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A monthly mystery book club....get clued in!
September reading:
Black Sun by Graham Brown
Black Sun by Graham Brown
BLACK SUN
An ancient secret found in the ruins of a Mayan temple...
A terrifying prophecy that speaks of destruction...
And the last race against time...
Black Sun - Prologue
Bering Sea, November 2012 The fifty foot trawler, Orlovsky Star, pushed on through frigid arctic waters and a lingering fog that seemed to have no end. The sea was unusually calm and the wind non-existent but with the outside temperature dipping to fifteen degrees Fahrenheit and the water holding just above the freezing point, the conditions were anything but benign.
Alexander Petrov stood at the wheel inside the darkened pilothouse, a grim air surrounding him. His weathered face, shaven head and clenched jaw all suggested a burden his broad shoulders were struggling to carry. He stared into the darkness ahead of the boat, listening to thrum of the heavy diesel engine and the occasional muted thump of ice banging against the hull.
So far the ice had been thin, small free floating chunks that his ship could slide through at half speed. But the pack ice formed quickly at this time of year, spreading south like a plague, and just an hour before there had been no ice at all.
Guiding the boat on feel as much as sight, Petrov knew the danger: if the ship didn’t reach warmer waters soon, they’d be trapped and the thin hull ground into metal filings long before any rescuer could reach them. Then again, perhaps they deserved such a fate for what they were attempting to do.
A voice spoke from behind him. “It’s getting thicker. We need to make better speed.”
To read the rest of the Prologue go to www.authorgrahambrown.com
A terrifying prophecy that speaks of destruction...
And the last race against time...
Black Sun - Prologue
Bering Sea, November 2012 The fifty foot trawler, Orlovsky Star, pushed on through frigid arctic waters and a lingering fog that seemed to have no end. The sea was unusually calm and the wind non-existent but with the outside temperature dipping to fifteen degrees Fahrenheit and the water holding just above the freezing point, the conditions were anything but benign.
Alexander Petrov stood at the wheel inside the darkened pilothouse, a grim air surrounding him. His weathered face, shaven head and clenched jaw all suggested a burden his broad shoulders were struggling to carry. He stared into the darkness ahead of the boat, listening to thrum of the heavy diesel engine and the occasional muted thump of ice banging against the hull.
So far the ice had been thin, small free floating chunks that his ship could slide through at half speed. But the pack ice formed quickly at this time of year, spreading south like a plague, and just an hour before there had been no ice at all.
Guiding the boat on feel as much as sight, Petrov knew the danger: if the ship didn’t reach warmer waters soon, they’d be trapped and the thin hull ground into metal filings long before any rescuer could reach them. Then again, perhaps they deserved such a fate for what they were attempting to do.
A voice spoke from behind him. “It’s getting thicker. We need to make better speed.”