by C.L. Roman
Cheri Roman is a writer, editor, teacher, wife, mother, grandmother and friend, in whatever order works best in the moment. Most days you can find her on her blog, The Brass Rag, or working on the next novel in her fantasy series, Rephaim. Cheri lives with her husband and two Chihuahuas in St. Johns, Florida.
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Publisher: Brass Rag Press
Release Date: July 1, 2013
Synopsis: When Captain Fomor leads his unit of six angelic warriors to Earth in an attempt to escape the war in Heaven, not only do they unwittingly set into motion the age of legends, but they must face an inescapable evil that threatens to destroy them, the humans they fall in love with, and the Earth itself.
Creating a new life on antediluvian Earth is no where near as simple as Fomor’s team had hoped it would be. A tragedy occurs early in their sojourn that convinces the seven that they must avoid both humans and fallen angels. But when they unexpectedly meet with the Nephilim, a tribe of unusual humans with unknown origins, the results are unprecedented. However, falling in love with humans is the least of The Unit’s problems.
Mankind is busily descending into a maelstrom of violence and profane religion. The Fallen, angels transformed into demons by their rebellion, have regrouped and are using the tattered remnants of their power to prey upon humankind in horrific ways. Not only is a demon demanding human sacrifice in a nearby village, but the world is careening towards a global disaster that not even The Unit can stop.Amazon
“You must choose now.”
Captain Fomor’s quiet voice echoed against stone walls. He stood facing Second Lieutenants Gant and Phaella in the long, stone hall of the unit’s barracks. Floor to ceiling windows were spaced along the hallway to admit a pale, wavering light. Dormers at the top of each casement were open to admit fresh air and the sweet scent of the gardens outside. Opposite the windows, spaced widely along the wall, were doors that he knew opened onto meeting rooms and domiciles, and, at the far end, a set of double doors that led to the dining hall.
Outside, the faint sounds of battle drew minutely closer through the flickering light. Gant raked strong fingers through his black curls and turned hazel eyes to assess Phaella’s reaction. They were a matched pair, even calling each other “brother” and “sister,” though there was not, could not be, any such blood tie between them. In truth, their relationship was more like that of siblings than co-workers or fellow soldiers. Created at the same time, they might have been cast from the same mold with similar abilities and talents. Even their thought patterns matched more often than not.
Both sported a compact, athletic build and olive skin. Black, curly hair topped attractive, long nosed faces with strong jaw lines and dark, expressive eyes. The resemblance didn’t stop with the physical. The pair possessed a keen intelligence and were as loyal and steadfast as dogs but with a fierceness in battle that bore greater resemblance to the wolves Sabaoth had created than to those companion helpers of human kind. It pained Fomor to require them to make this choice.
“What you ask is not easy Captain Fomor.” Phaella avoided her captain’s eyes by keeping her own on the floor as she toyed with her long, black braid. After a moment she looked at him, “Sabaoth has not even called us yet.”
“Sister,” Gant reached out to put a gentle hand on her arm. “Would it be better to wait until He summons us into battle, and disobey Him?”
Phaella’s breath sucked in, her dark eyes widening as she shook her head.
Gant turned back to his captain. “What of Sena?”
“Lieutenant Sena waits for us below,” Fomor replied. “She, Volot and Jotun have chosen not to fight in this war.” An explosion, perhaps two hundred cubits outside the corridor, rocked the trio and sent smoke drifting into the wide hall. Fomor ignored the interruption, merely brushing a few strands of black hair out of his eyes before continuing. “Adahna went ahead to find a sheltered area where we can settle in for…” he stopped. It was hard to admit, even to himself, that he didn’t know how long they would need to shelter on Earth. “She asked me to remind you that we are all children of the same maker. It is not right for siblings to kill one another.”
Trouble clouded Phaella’s gaze. “Still, to disobey…”
For the first time Fomor’s pale skin reddened slightly and his voice held a cold edge. “We cannot disobey an order that has not been given. This is the point Phaella. To leave before it is given.”
A trumpet sounded outside, followed by another detonation, closer this time, and the air became dense with smoke.
“Decide quickly, or the call will come, and it will be too late.” Fomor spun on his heel, the fastenings on his boots glinting in the dim light, and shifted, disappearing in a flash of green sparks.
Phaella and Gant stared at one another, misery shared, but not lessened. How did one choose between abandoning Sabaoth and fighting, perhaps killing, fellow angels? It was as if a father were asking his children to fight one another; an impossible choice.
In the end Gant reached out his hand, “I cannot leave Sena.”
Phaella’s smile was dim, but determined. She gripped his fingers with her own, “And I will not leave you, brother.” A third blast struck the hall, raining bits of marble and dust down upon the siblings until the dark blue of their tunics looked gray.
“Well then, sister, time to move?” Gant forced a grin and the two stepped together into the fog shrouded corridors of the Shift. Light and sound from the hall they left behind was cut off as suddenly and effectively as a slammed door. Cold pressed against their skin through the fluid dark, while frigid gray fog probed their faces, pressed against lips and eyes, clinging and trailing behind as they moved through what seemed to be an endless, black expanse.
My official writing career started seventeen years ago with the publication of two short stories in Clubhouse and Clubhouse Jr. magazines. When I got the acceptance letter I was ecstatic. I may have squealed a little. I know I danced.
It’s been a long and interesting ride since then, some of it uphill, some down, through dark country and sunlit scenery. I regret none of it because it brought me here. But there are a number of things I’d like to have known when I first started out.
1) Trust yourself. If a plot point, character or editor isn’t working out, be brave enough to step away from them. Worthy characters and plot points may find homes in future work and a good editor is worth their weight in pages. Don’t waste your time on less.
2) Be patient. There are seventeen years and a lot of lessons learned between my initial success and my most recent publication. I’m only unusual in that the first story I submitted was accepted. Most authors have several finished manuscripts that will never see the light of day. It’s called honing your craft. Make time for it.
3) You need honest feedback, even if it hurts. There is a special form of blindness which most of us succumb to in regards to our writing. A good critique group can heal you of it, if you let them.
4) Most people view writing as a hobby, not a real job. That’s fine as long as you understand that they are wrong. Writing well requires diligent, sweat inducing WORK. Don’t expect writing to be easy, and don’t let non-writers make you feel like a dilettante.
5) Guard your writing time with your life, because it won’t come automatically. Even your most supportive friends and family members will, often unintentionally, pull you away from your work because they don’t understand that above every other tool, writing requires time. Don’t be surprised if your insistence on holding writing time sacrosanct meets with puzzlement, or even resentment. And try not to be offended. But don’t give in either. You’ll be miserable if you do, and that isn’t helpful for anyone.
The more I write, the more I need to write. The less I write, the easier it is to put it off. It’s a simple lesson, but the price of not learning it is high. The nagging ache of what you haven’t written only gets worse with time, and can only be cured by setting the words free. These are some things I wish I’d known seventeen years ago. What do you wish you’d known, just starting out?
The 1st time I read the synopsis, I knew I wanted to read the book. I have a deep fascination for angels, when I saw it was about angels, I was sure I was going to like it.
Descent is a deep reading that will take the reader to the beginning of the time, it is a kind of a re telling of the Bible but much more enjoyable, and even if you are not a believer you will like it.
The story has some flaws that make me give it a 4. The beginning is really confusing, I even thought that the Messenger from the 1st chapter was the main character and when he didn't appear again I was kind of lost. The characters are presented at the same time and I didn't know who was who, it took me some time to clear that.
The chapter where the bad guys appear where a bit boring, I knew they where essential for the plot but I couldn´t avoid jumping from line to line to arrive to the chapters of the main characters.
But the good things super a los the flaws. The main characters are really good developed, some more than others because they don’t have the same amount of importance. I really liked Gant and Sena, there was a specific scene of both of them that melted my heart. They were really cute. The issue of love is wonderfully developed, I’m sure the author is a romantic because the love scenes were amazing, I even took note of some of the quotes.
The writing style is easy to follow though there were some terms that confused me, I don’t know if they were written in Hebrew or what but I think a glossary of terms would have been useful.
Descent is a really enjoyable read about friendship, loyalty, faith and love. It is well structure and easy to follow even if you haven’t read the Bible because everything is perfectly explained
“Then I think you need to start at the beginning because if that thing was your brother,
Fomor, then you cannot possibly be human. I need to know what it is I’ve given my heart to.”It was his turn to have his mouth drop open and her lips trembled into a thin, joyless smile.”