"JACOB'S FIRE"
                                                                by
                                                Nan DeVincent Hayes
                                           Renaissance Alliance Publishing, 2001
Major Characters:

             Jacob ("Jake") Ben Abram: a devout Jew who, as a scientist and professor, 
  has created the formula for cure for AIDS if used properly; if not, it will end civilization.
             Isleen: of mixed race is a brilliant pharmaceutical CEO and scientist who wants
  to mass produce Jake's formula for AIDS for the benefit of civilization; however, her
  superiors have more sinister motivations. In the end, Jake they befriend one another,
  with Isleen teaching Jake about Tribulation and the Rapture, and Jake sharing his
 Judaic values with her.
             Cardinals Borgoni and Romano: are two holy men in the Vatican who publicly 
  proclaim Christianity and the Catholic See, but who privately blackmail and double-cross
  each other to form a fateful mistake in which Jake and Isleen innocently get caught up in.
                 This excerpt below occurs during the marriage of Jake's daughter in
                        Rome where the two Cardinals are concelebrating the Mass.


                                          EXCERPT FROM JACOB'S FIRE 

              Note: Jacob is at his daughter's wedding in a piazza in Rome, where the two 
  Cardinals-Borgoni and Romano-had just completed the wedding vows. The newlyweds 
  and their guests have begun the festive celebratory activities.
             Music blared. It was time! He turned around, hunting for Bethie. When he saw 
  her running towards him in a state as frazzled as he, he chuckled and hugged her, ran
  his hand down the back of her hem to smooth out the wrinkles. He told her repeatedly
  how gorgeous she was and how much she looked like her mother. He worried she was
  cold in her pure white gown with no coat in the nippy air.
             The music played gaily and loudly, and passersby paused to watch the event. 
  He tried matching his daughter's steps as they promenaded up the aisle but not having
  had other daughters, he was uncomfortable with his movements. Near the altar, he felt
  her tug on his arm, and so he stopped. She took a few steps to her left, leaned over
  Isleen, pecked her on the cheek, and handed her a long-stemmed rose. He watched, 
  mesmerized, trying to hear their exchange of words. Then Isleen stood, lifted Beth's veil
  and kissed her on the forehead. He felt tears spring hot and quick to his eyes.
             Beth returned to his side and they continued parading up to the altar. 
             How can I stop this wedding to protect my daughter from insane Cardinals and 
  a corrupt husband . . . if Borgoni was being honest about Tony? He pursed his lips,
  scolding himself for thinking that way. Stopping the wedding would not only hurt Beth
  but it would embarrass her as well; after all, he had no proof Tony had done anything
  wrong: Only what one crazy Cardinal said in retaliation against another. Still, something
  isn't right here. But neither is anything right around the world.
             To the question, "Who giveth this woman away," he suddenly heard himself say,
  "her uncle and aunt do," and knew then it was too late to stop the ceremony . . . or the
  memories of his own wedding day kaleidescoping past him where Annie had beamed
  her smile so wide, he knew decades ago he would never tire of it. 
             In a blur, he kissed his daughter at the altar, then turned and, still dazed, walked
  to the chair next to where Isleen sat. In his numbness, the Mass seemed to float by, with
  the priests doing this and saying that, people jumping to their feet, sitting back down, then
  kneeling--even on the ground since folding chairs served as pews--and singing, uttering
  this and that, with many filing down the aisles for Communion.
             He only knew to rise and exit the row with Isleen after he heard Borgoni say in
  gnarled English, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present Signor and Signora Biondi."
             The applause cracked in Jake's ears. People around him slapped him on his back, 
  congratulated him as the proud uncle of the bride.
             In no time, the plaza was converted into a reception hall, with the altar replaced 
  by a dance platform, and a long line of tables with dishes of endless food and sparkling
  drinks supplanting the folding chairs. Four portable bars popped up out of nowhere,
  manned by bartenders dressed in red vests and pants and white shirts with red bow ties.
  At one end of the long tables stood a five-foot cake on a large platform. No wonder it cost
  me a fortune. He was moved by the lively Italian music and how the locals danced ethnic
  style, the women's gowns flowing in rhythm to their steps, expressions of deep emotions
  etched on their faces, and their arms extending to the hems of their gowns which they pull
  ed high to skip to the Tarantella.
             During the reception, Cardinal Paolo's eyes met with Jake's, and both immediately 
  turned away. Amid the clink of glasses, crackle of ice, dancing to Mediterranean tunes,
  and shoes shuffling along the buffet line, Jake managed to find a few minutes of privacy
  with Isleen. After their initial chit-chat, he whispered, "Let's get going as soon as possible.
  I don't want to be driving from Rome to Naples late at night. The nuptial Mass lasted too 
  long, and I'm uncomfortable here anyway."
             "Because no one knows you as the great professor and research scientist?" 
  she teased.
             He frowned. "Did you see Security behind the altar before Mass started?"
             "The ones who looked like the S.S.?"
             "Federation police, I'll bet . . . maybe to protect the Cardinals and big-wigs here.
  What he thought but didn't say was that Security was to protect one Cardinal from another,
  and maybe even his new son-in-law, the rat. All of it gave him the freaks.
             An excited voice interrupted: "Come, Uncle. The photographer wants to take 
  our picture. You, too, Aunt Isleen." Beth giggled, milking her part in the charade. She
  picked up her long white gown and trooped off while waving at everyone who wanted her
  attention. She laughed some more, grabbed her groom's arm and stood posing in front
  of the camera and before floral arrangements colored in reds, yellows, whites, purples,
  and greens. 
             Jake walked over and stood on Beth's one side, while Isleen stood on her other 
  side, next to Tony. Looking over at Isleen, Jake winked. Her broad grin made him smile
  back and he felt good inside. Then he glanced at his daughter who was staring at him,
  smiling. He mouthed, "I love you," and she giggled that laugh he loved so much. Then,
  before the cameras went off, she yelled to him, "I love you too!" Just then, cameras
  everywhere flashed and whirred. 
             Suddenly a sound like popcorn snapping at high volume exploded the air. Jake 
  turned toward the noise. In a fog, he heard screaming as his eyes took in people
  aimlessly racing from the crackling spray of bullets; food flying; bodies tumbling to the
  ground; slugs hammering the huge round bass drum, and people scattering like
  cockroaches in light, some hiding under tables and chairs, behind the dance platform,
  while others, like Jake, remained standing in shock.
             Then, just as instantly as it started, the shooting stopped.


                                               -END EXCERPT OF JACOB'S FIRE-


  This novel may be purchased in bookstores nationwide, through the publisher 
  (Rapbooks.com) or via Amazon. Check also to see if the author has any copies 
  available.



  All materials are copyrighted ©; do not reproduce any part of this or any other  materials on
   this website without the permission of the author at ndhayes@att.net or 410-543-9019.