The second mini-story within the prologue is about a young Australian couple backpacking around the world. In Pakistan they get caught up in the ideological conflict with the West. Being Jewish adds to their vulnerability. Their kidnapping is traumatic, especially with Sarah's pregnancy. Unexpected help comes from a young local girl whose simple faith challenges stereotypical views.

Extract 4 (Prologue, page 8)
Sarah had nodded off to sleep. Nathan watched her and wondered at her beauty. She was almost four months pregnant and had that glow his mother used to call the ‘glow of motherhood’. The pregnancy wasn’t planned but was welcomed nevertheless.
It had been an hour since they had left the manic bustle of Karachi and the contrasting tranquillity at 35,000 feet was just what they needed. Nathan expected that Islamabad would be just as busy and was glad that Sarah was using the time to rest.
The six months since they left Melbourne seemed like a lifetime ago. They had promised each other that they would travel for a year when they finished university. The experience was more than they had anticipated, largely because they didn’t have much money and had backpacked most of the way. This meant that they got closer to places and people than they would have done as more conventional tourists. They had travelled eastwards through South America, the United States and Europe. Then onto Israel and the Oman before flying to Pakistan. From Islamabad they would continue eastwards to the Himalayan foothills and Nepal.
Nathan let Sarah sleep until they began their descent to Islamabad. It was just as well for the heat and the clamour of the airport was exhausting.

Extract 5 (Prologue, page 10)
The one pointing the gun at Nathan responded in perfect English,
‘You would be wise to keep quiet. We don’t like Zionists here.’
This was what Nathan had feared. He and Sarah were Jews. His grandfather, the only one of six brothers to escape the concentration camps, had left Poland in 1941. Although he no longer practised his faith, in any religious sense, Nathan still felt culturally a Jew and had a strong feeling of kinship with Israel – a nation with many enemies.

Extract 6 (Prologue, page 11)
About two hours later they came to a halt. The sun was just beginning to rise above the horizon as they were led out of the van towards a group of single storey buildings. They seemed to be on the edge of a small township. A group of locals watched them in silence.
Their abductors seemed unconcerned that they were seen. What kind of community is this? Nathan asked himself. Why do they do nothing to help? Why don’t they say something?
They were taken into the front room of what appeared to be someone’s house. There was an old wooden table and several plain chairs. On the table was a jug of water and beside it a bowl of oranges. The room beyond was much smaller. It had only one window, high up, which meant that the room was still in darkness. There was no furniture.
Nathan and Sarah were made to sit back to back on the earth floor and their arms were bound behind them. The door was locked and they were left alone. Sarah began to sob quietly.

Extract 7 (prologue, page 11)
One amongst the group who witnessed the captives being taken from the van was touched by what she saw. Her name was Leila. She was seventeen. She had lived in Kerish all her life. The farthest she had journeyed was to Bantipur, a bigger town about six miles away.
She had never seen foreigners before and was surprised at how much like her the young woman looked. Leila could see that she was pregnant. She could see also that she was frightened. The man with her seemed nice. He had tried to support his woman as she stumbled on the rocky ground. Surely it was not right to take these people like this? What had they done to justify such treatment?

Extract 8 (prologue, page 12)
Leila knew that if she was found out, her own life would be forfeit. But her natural kindness was stronger than her fear. She was motivated by compassion. For this was her understanding of her faith. Allah, her God, the one who loved her without condition, called her to do likewise for others.

Extract 9 (Prologue, page 13)
The clamour roused the inhabitants of Kerish who came out onto the streets to see what was happening.
Men in camouflage uniform were dragging bodies out into the open. Two were helping Nathan and Sarah out of the building that had been their prison for two weeks. They looked bewildered and scared, and much thinner than when they had arrived.
A convoy of vehicles approached at great speed, their lights cutting swathes through the darkness. Out of one land-rover stepped the tall, authoritative figure of General Khan, who immediately began to direct the mopping-up operations.
A young woman approached him. It was Leila.
‘I am so relieved you came. For a while I thought that my message had not got through.’
‘Ah. So you are the young informer. They must pay well in Bantipur.’
Leila was indignant.
‘I did not do it for money. I did it because they are just people like us.’
General Khan looked at the young woman in front of him. Her earnest expression did not mask her pretty features. He admired her courage but despised her idealism. Such generosity of heart was dangerous and subversive.
He said nothing for a moment, then he gestured her to follow him to the rear of the land-rover.
There, out of sight, he held his hand over her mouth and in one swift movement broke her youthful neck.
He let her slump to the ground and re-joined his men. There was no place in his world for people like Leila.

Extracts from The Domini Conspiracy.

The book opens with two mini-stories within a prologue. They are seemingly unconnected but both illustrate a world where ruthless greed and goodness co-exist. There is another more profound link that becomes evident much later in the main story.

The first of these mini-stories is about a priest in Colombia whose life is threatened because of information he has about US businesses behind the Colombian drug scene. The priest, Father Manuel Romero, is interrogated repeatedly. Eventually, to save the lives of a parishioner and his young daughter, Romero agrees to let his captors have the name of the person who has given him the details about high-ranking officials in the Colombian government and US businessmen implicated in the drugs deals.

These are some brief extracts from the text:

Extract 1 (Prologue, page 1)
Father Manuel Romero was ill. He had been held for twenty-six days. The room that was his prison was so small there wasn’t space for his tall frame to lie down. There was no window and the dank air could only be replenished through the gap under the door. Water constantly seeped through the walls. Everything, including his clothes, was filthy and damp.
They gave him food once each day. It was always the same – stale bread and rancid lard. He was given no water and had to survive on what he could get from the puddles that formed on the floor of his cell.

Extract 2 (Prologue, page 3)
On the thirty-first day of his captivity, at around sunrise, Manuel Romero was taken from his cell and led along a corridor into a shabby room, dimly lit by a single light bulb suspended from a tobacco stained ceiling. They sat him on an old wooden chair and bound his hands behind him. No one spoke.

Extract 3 (Prologue, page 6)
Romero sat at the table and slowly wrote on the paper he had been given. When he had finished Jiminez snatched it. As he read what Romero had written his expression changed from irritable impatience to explosive anger. He glared at the priest.
‘That is correct,’ said Romero calmly. ‘That is the name of the person who told me all about your boss’s criminal dealings.’
Jiminez thumped the sheet of paper on the table and thrust his face inches away from Romero’s.
‘You take me for a fool? You give me this nonsense! Tell me the truth now or I swear I will shoot you.’
‘I have told you. What I have written is the truth,’ said Romero.
Jiminez hardly hesitated. He took the pistol that was habitually tucked inside the waistband of his trousers and held it against the side of Romero’s head.
‘One more chance priest.’
Manuel Romero was tired and sick and did not fear death. He reached inside his shirt and clasped once more the cross around his neck.
‘I have nothing more to say.’
He was still holding the cross when the momentum of the shot knocked him sideways onto the floor.
Blood from the gaping wound spread quickly and mingled with the filth on the floor. Jiminez was expressionless. One of his companions retched and hurriedly left the room. Another picked up the piece of paper that Romero had written on. It simply read, "Ramon Gonzalez".
‘But this is impossible! We got rid of Gonzalez eight years ago!’
‘I know,’ said Jiminez. ‘The priest was lying. Gonzalez never knew the names of our contacts so he could not have told anyone. Unless of course his ghost has being spying on us!’
They both laughed and left the room with Romero still lying on the floor. In the corridor they came across their companion who was leaning against the wall with vomit over his shoes. Jiminez kicked him as he passed.
‘Get rid of the priest’s body. No traces you hear, or it will be you next.’

More extracts to follow...

A secret order has controlled world politics and religion for centuries. Its purpose is to maintain power and wealth amongst its elite membership. It has supported social and religious structures that suppress equality and free-thinking and will eliminate anyone or anything that gets in its way. The result is that mankind has become stunted intellectually and spiritually, unable to reach its full potential. A band of people have come together to break this hold on humanity by revealing truths about life and the hereafter that will liberate us all. But the forces against them are powerful and ruthless and the mission of this small group seems doomed. An ordinary man gets a letter with a message from his deceased wife. The letter is anonymous – the only clue is the Inverness postmark. His attempt to find the author of the letter draws him into an adventure of violence, mystery and love. The future of the world is at stake.

This blog has been set up to explore some of the issues raised in the recently published novel, The Domini Conspiracy.

Over the next few weeks a selection of extracts from the book will be posted with an invitation for comment and discussion from readers of the blog or of the book itself.

Although The Domini Conspiracy is a work of fiction and a fast-moving thriller, the insights it contains are based on a view of reality which readers find challenging but ultimately hopeful.

Big subjects are dealt with including:

The afterlife
Personal destiny
Near-death experiences
What are we here for?
Who is in control? - politics, power and religion
Are we alone in the universe?
Do those who have passed on watch over us?

To start with, here is a brief extract that describes a dream experienced by one of the book's characters, David MacLeod. Such events have been recorded by individuals over the centuries and are not dissimilar to the experiences described by some people resuscitated from clinical death. My view is that there must be some profound truth behind these phenomena. What do you think?

Extract from Chapter 7, page 39

I don't feel under any stress or difficulty. I am happy with my life and find my work as a minister deeply fulfilling. Yet last night I had a dream that will change my life forever.

In my dream I was an onlooker in an unknown place in an unknown time. I was with a group of people who were mourning the loss of someone who had been very important to them, someone who had loved them and whom they in turn had loved deeply.

The loss of this person was profoundly significant to these mourners. Their sadness and desolation brought them to the lowest depths of despair. All was dark. All meaning, all purpose in life had simply ceased.

Despite not knowing who it was they were mourning, I shared their grief. My heart was gripped with icy coldness. I felt their hopelessness and despair. All was lost. All was meaningless.

But just as the mourners, and I with them, reached the point of utter darkness, it all suddenly changed. Through some ineffable communication we somehow knew that the person we were mourning had not ceased to exist. It became nonsensical to us that this person whom we loved and who loved us should simply be snuffed out, like a candle in a winter's breeze.

Of course! Of course! It all made sense. As we had shared misery we now shared joy. And oh what joy! I have no words to describe it. Love! Love is the answer! Love is the essence of life, not just here and now, but always. Death is not the end! It is simply a doorway to the next stage.

What joy! What utter joy! I felt waves of love flowing through me and over me. I was engulfed in love. It was physical, it was emotional and it was spiritual. The closest experience I can think of is the fulfillment of sexual love, but multiplied a thousand fold.

My spirit soared into a place of glorious light and beauty. A million, trillion beings of light, full of love and kindness, shimmered and shifted together. There was laughter and great happiness.

My heart was bursting with love and I knew I could simply let go and join this glorious throng. But I pulled back. I cannot, I said. I have done nothing yet! I have done nothing in my life! It was only then it subsided. But I knew something I did not know before. From that moment I knew that life goes on after death and that love is at the heart of the universe.

Today everything seems different to me. I take delight in things I took for granted yesterday. Flowers and trees and clouds and birds and insects and ... everything holds a new meaning for me! People are different or, at least, I perceive them differently. Within each is a spark of something beautiful and eternal.
End of extract.