Angel - Softcover

Marrow, Nicole \Coco\

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0765330237 ISBN 13: 9780765330239

Verlag: Forge Books, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

A beautiful woman awakens on a plane and discovers that things are going terribly wrong. The plane is about to crash into the Hudson River…and she can't even remember her own name.

After she survives the crash, the airline determines that her name is Angela Sands. But she has no idea who she really is.

Reporter Dante Kearns is fascinated by the woman the media dubs "the Angel of the Hudson," especially once he discovers her shocking secret. Angela can hear voices in her head—the thoughts of all men around her. And when a man gets close, her face and form change into the woman of his dreams.

Who is Angela? And why does she believe that she was murdered before she woke up on that plane in a stranger's body? Together, Angela and Dante are going to find answers, even if they have to bring down a killer to do so.

Nicole "Coco" Marrow, wife of Ice-T, keeps readers guessing with her pulse-pounding debut novel.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Nicole "Coco" Marrow and Laura Hayden

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Angel

By Nicole "Coco" Marrow

Forge Books

Copyright © 2011 Nicole "Coco" Marrow
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780765330239

1
 
 
CoastalEast Air Flight Number 617
The woman’s body convulsed. She woke with a gasp. It was as if she suddenly recalled why and how to breathe. The screech of roaring engines at full thrust thrummed in her ears. The noise was so loud it made her body vibrate in a similar pulsating rhythm.
A second later, a different shiver coursed through her. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember …
Even trying to remember was like moving through a fog. Nothing was visible. Nothing made sense.
The overwhelming wall of sound seemed to take her over, as if her body was in the grip of its rhythm.
She clenched the arms of … what? A chair?
Where am I?
She opened her eyes, slowly focusing on the blue panel directly ahead of her: a small flat-screen television that featured a tiny icon of an airplane pictured against a map of the East Coast of the United States.
What’s that?
The screen changed, the map now showing a larger airplane over a jagged blob tagged with “LGA.”
I’m … on a plane?
A male voice from an intercom tried to cut through the shrieking engine noise. “Ladies and gentleman, the pilot has informed me that we’ve been cleared to land. Please turn off and stow all portable—”
The plane bucked and the passengers groaned en masse.
Where am I going?
“—electronic equipment. We apologize for the turbulence.”
Where have I been?
“Please return to your seats, make sure your seatback is in an upright position, and—”
The plane pitched sharply to the right and dropped a good fifty feet. She gripped the arms of the chair and fought the small wave of nausea that seized her stomach. The other passengers reacted with universal sounds of alarm including groans and more than a few screams.
What’s happening?
The flight attendant’s voice lost its cultured polish. He swore “Oh, shit…” into the uncovered microphone. Then the sound cut off.
What was happening?
Now the attendant barked into the mike, “Fasten your seatbelts, now!”
The seatbelt?
She unpried a hand from the chair arm long enough to reach down to discover the safety strap was already pulled tightly across her lap. Nevertheless, she tugged the free end of the belt harder.
If tight was good, tighter must be better.
She glanced to her right at the sleeping man seated next to her. Slumped against the window, he was evidently the sort of seasoned traveler who didn’t let a little turbulence disturb a good nap. At least he wore his seatbelt.
Was he a stranger? Did she know him? Were they traveling together? Questions pounded at her, slamming into the blank wall of her memory.
I don’t even remember getting on this pla—
The aircraft lurched again, resulting in another chorus of screams from the passengers. Two young men on the other end of her row laughed and raised their arms as if riding on a roller coaster.
And yet neither the rough ride nor the noise woke the dozing man next to her.
Glancing past him, she looked through the small window, expecting to see rain lashing the glass, or bolts of lightning slicing through angry clouds … anything that could be considered an unfortunate but logical cause of the plane’s erratic movements. But she saw nothing unusual. She looked down at Manhattan, where the tops of very tall buildings clawed a cloudless blue sky like fingers searching for a handhold.
It was at that moment when she realized that the small window at the end of her row was actually part of an exit door. She stared blankly at the instructions on how to open the door in case of emergency, but her mind was too confused to absorb much detail. The directives and graphics printed there mostly boiled down to open door, throw it aside, and get the hell out.
If the situation warranted it, she would do just that.
The plane shuddered again, this time with such violence that several unbelted passengers slammed into the ceiling. Her mind supplied the sound of breaking bones but she couldn’t have heard anything over the now-unsteady roaring of the engines. Several of the overhead bins burst open. Their contents spilled out, flying around and striking unsuspecting victims.
Shouts of concern or surprise transformed to screams of pain and fear.
The man next to her awoke. “What th’ hell?”
She had no time to answer. Another sharp motion slammed her to the left, then to the right, and then, God help her, turned them all upside down.
The sound of screeching metal, screaming people, and explosions replaced the engine roar.
Suddenly, whole chunks of the airplane tore loose as they slammed into something hard. The plane bounced, maybe even cartwheeled several times, before settling upside down.
Something hit her hard on the head, then blackness.
She must have passed out for a moment.
When she awoke, she heard no screams, no panicked pleas for rescue by man or by God. Either the explosions had affected her hearing or everyone else was dead.
She was afraid to look around to see which it was.
But she had to do something.
As she hung from her seat, her fear and panic shrank into one small, highly condensed knot in her stomach. Something deep inside told her that she wouldn’t have a choice of fight or flight.
If she wanted to live, she’d have to do both.
Bracing herself, she took a good look at the wreckage of the plane she still couldn’t remember boarding.
She took stock of her options for escape. Where the right wing had been attached to the fuselage, there was now a great gaping hole. She could see flashes of daylight through it. But it was ringed with tangled metal and sparking wires. The smoke boiled through the opening, rapidly filling the cabin. Despite the decreasing light, she could see that the seats just one row ahead of her had been torn away.
Then she smelled burning. The smoke reeked of plastics and wiring … and the unmistakable stench of burning flesh.
She looked forward.
The first-class section was engulfed by an inferno. And then the sound of water rushing in, along with a great wave of burning fuel washing down the center of the plane, racing toward her. But not here yet, not yet …
“Hell! Time to move!”
She reached over the bloody body of the man who had been sitting next to her, trying to ignore that fact that most of his face was now missing.
Before she could reach the exit-door handle, the plane shifted with a groan of metal on metal.
She clutched the arms of her seat. At least she was no longer hanging upside down. She was on her side, with a gaping hole in the plane threatening to drown her.
The ragged hole dipped so close to the water’s edge that oily waves lapped into the plane.
The metal of the remaining fuselage groaned under the stress. She could see cracks forming in the plastic and metal sides of the jet. It was breaking up under the pressure, and sinking fast. No time for the door, she thought.
She coughed, struggling to breathe, somehow aware that there were toxins in the smoke. Between that and the rising water, she had to react.
Now.
Using her legs to brace herself, she released her seatbelt. It took all her control to stay in place and not plunge into the smoldering...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Forge Books
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2011
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0765330237
• ISBN 13: 9780765330239
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 304
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar