LGBTQ+ Identities (if applicable): A couple stories have LGBTQ+ characters: gay, lesbian
Keywords/Categories: science fiction, sci-fi, new release, announcement, anthology, collection, hopepunk, near future, Earth, 2100 AD, short stories
Is This Part of a Series?: No
Was This Book Published in An Earlier Edition?: No
Book Blurb:
Earth on the Cusp of the Twenty-Second Century
How the world has changed in the last seventy-six years. In 1948, scientists ran the first computer program, and “the Ultimate Car of the Future,” the futuristic, three wheeled Davis Divan, debuted. Since then, a succession of inventions—the personal computer, the internet, the World Wide Web, smart phones and social media—have transformed every aspect of our lives.
The next seventy-six years will change things too, in ways we can barely even begin to imagine. Culture, climate change, politics and technology will continue to reshape the world. Earth in 2100 will be as unrecognizable to us as today would be to someone from 1948.
Eighteen writers tackled this challenge, creating an amazing array of sci-fi possibilities. From emotional AI’s to photosynthetic children, from virtual worlds to a post-urban society, our writers serve up compelling slices of life from an Earth that’s just around the corner.
So dive in and take a wild ride into these amazing visions of our collective future.
Non-Exclusive Excerpt:
Tin Lizzy
Gail Brown
Chaos filled several of the workshop tables. Material overflowed a table with a sewing machine. Some heavy duty, water proof beige fabrics had drifted to the floor.
A thick vegetable and meat soup simmered on the stove in the tiny central kitchen area. Next to the stove was a table set for two. Without any chairs.
Celina rode her power chair over to the counter top stove to stir the soup. The counter was a few inches higher than was comfortable. Today she needed to cook more than her usual single serving. Maybe her height measurements had been off. The counter could be an inch shorter, and not be in her lap.
It was challenging to figure out how to build it low enough to see into a pan, and stir the food, while tall and sturdy enough to not knock it over when Lizzy slid under it.
There was only about a foot of space to work with, if she didn’t want the pan higher than her face, and not able to stir without her elbow at maximum height. Which risked boiling food splashing on her face.
Figuring out how to make furniture the correct height, so she could slip her non-functioning legs under it had consumed her waking hours, and even sleeping hours, for the last year.
The stainless steel pan reflected her face. Down to the pointed lines above her eyebrows. Even the eyebrow she had singed an hour before.
She turned the power chair back to her wood and metal design workstation. Another stainless steel surface. Covered with scars from the many experiments needed to build lowered objects, with a glimpse of personal beauty in their functionality.
What would Henril and Trinkle think of her newest achievement? Her former hiking partners no longer walked the trails as much without her.
Certainly not on the narrow bluff overlooking the river. Henril had avoided out of concern for Trinkle’s safety. Or so he said.
Hopefully, they would soon all be hiking together.
Can Ben and Erik put the pieces together to solve the case, or when the cards are dealt, will they be left holding the dead man’s hand
Blurb
Weird things are happening again in Cape May and the ghosts of old mobsters never rest easy.
Erik Mitchell gets a strange delivery of antique poker chips with odd markings tied to a casino that burned a century ago. Ben Nolan finds a dead guy in one of his rental units—turns out the guy’s been missing for twenty years and is linked to a long-lost treasure.
The ghostly energy of the old Commodore Wilson hotel juices up all the town’s spirits, and a stranger shows up with an unhealthy interest in both cases. Ben and Erik have just moved in together, and they’re still navigating the next step as partners and blending their lives.
Murder, missing persons, hidden treasure, and haunted poker chips. Can Ben and Erik put the pieces together to solve the case, or when the cards are dealt, will they be left holding the dead man’s hand?
Last Resortis a suspenseful MM paranormal romance mystery-adventure filled with second chance love, hurt/comfort, true soulmates, old curses, hidden treasure, dangerous secrets, restless ghosts, psychic visions, powerful witches, angry mobsters, and a very haunted hotel.
Excerpt
“This brings back memories.” Ben Nolan and his partner carried the last boxes up the stairs. “I spent too many Saturdays in my twenties helping my friends move in and out of apartments for free pizza and beer.”
“Look at it as a built-in fitness workout,” Erik Mitchell, his boyfriend, replied. “The good thing is that most days, you don’t need to go up and down more than once.”
“I’m sure I can come up with reasons to stay in.” Ben dripped his voice to a sexy growl and gave Erik a knowing look.
Erik shook his head fondly. “Sounds good—but we still need to go to work sometime.”
Erik owned Trinkets, the antique shop in the first floor of the old Victorian house where their apartment took up the second level. “Can’t beat the commute,” he added.”
“True—and mine’s still totally walkable unless the weather is foul.” Ben managed Nolan Resort Real Estate, owned by his aunt and uncle. Until recently, he had stayed in one of the company’s rentals. Ben had moved in with Erik a few months ago, but forgotten about a stack of boxes that were still stored in Trinkets’ back room.
The important stuff had already found a place in the apartment. Now Ben needed to figure out what in these last boxes to keep or toss. He’d packed long enough ago that he had forgotten what remained.
“Actually, I was surprised how fast I got used to the stairs,” Erik told him. “My place in Atlanta had an elevator, but nowhere near the charm.”
Both Ben and Erik had recently moved to Cape May, New Jersey to make a fresh start after their old lives went off the rails. Ben stepped away from being a Newark cop after a betrayal and a near-fatal shooting, and becoming a private investigator had left him burned out and bitter. Erik left his high-profile work stopping art fraud and antiquities smugglers when a bust gone wrong nearly got him killed—and his boyfriend cheated. Differing circumstances led them to Cape May and chance brought them together, but Ben thanked his lucky stars every day for how things had turned out.
“Now we just have to figure out what’s worth keeping.” Ben surveyed the stacks of boxes in the living room. “We already have an interesting decorating style.”
They had found a quirky way to blend his statues of Spider-Man and Optimus Prime and wall art of some of his favorite comics and sci-fi movies with Erik’s more traditional taste, honed by his work for art museums.
“Bring it on,” Erik said with a laugh. “It’s good to shake things up.”
Ben reeled him in for a kiss. “I can think of ways to get a whole lotta shakin’ going on,” he growled.
Erik kissed him and stepped away. “Hold that thought. We need to be able to navigate through the living room, so the boxes can’t stay—which means unpacking.”
“Spoil sport,” Ben grumbled good-naturedly.
About the Author
Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.
On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.
Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!
Keywords/Categories: super-powers, psychics, space battles, sentient storms, fated love, love at first sight, sexual healing, Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Pansexual, Intersex, Two Spirit, Transgender, Ace, Non-binary, fated love, love at first sight, sexual healing, science fiction, sci-fi, sci-fantasy, fantasy, romance, new release, announcement, giveaway
Tropes: fated love, love at first sight, sexual healing
Is This Part of a Series?: Yes
Position (Number) in Series: First
Series Title: The Lovers Universe
Screenshot
Book Blurb:
Lovable loner Casey Isaac thinks love isn’t for him. Not since extraordinary events left him with supernormal powers and a great deal of trauma. But when Oscar Kenzari looks at him, he can’t help but change his mind.
As Divinators, Casey and Oscar have used their psychic powers to defend humanity from sentient, extradimensional storms for one hundred years.
But a storm more powerful than any before is brewing. MaalenKun, prince of the maelstrom, conqueror of countless realities, plans to turn the tables by infecting Casey’s mind.
MaalenKun is not the only threat.
Casey and Oscar must determine who they can trust: the eccentric trillionaire keeping them in the dark, the independent contractors with secrets of their own, or a seemingly helpful extradimensional being shrouded in mystery.
As Casey works to defeat threats around and within himself, he must open to love for his chosen family, for Oscar, and for himself to unlock a transformative power capable of banishing MaalenKun. And Oscar must make a difficult choice that could cost him the future he dreams of.
Can Casey and Oscar’s love break the storm?
“It’s fantastic to have such an emotional, thoughtful, and at times really sexy story to enjoy and identify with. I love books that take characters who are usually shoved to the margins and make their stories, their struggles, fears, hopes, tragedies, and triumphs the focus–which is exactly what this book does.” –Doug Spearman, Actor/Activist/Writer/Producer/Director, From Zero to I Love You
“From the title page onwards, I was unable to put this book down. With excellent worldbuilding and rich, dimensional characters, T.Q. Sims’ Godspeed, Lovers skillfully weaves a world that is equal parts fantastical sci-fi, spirituality, and queer joy. I can’t wait to see where Casey and Oscar go next.” –Colette Bennett, Author, Enter the Meta
Non-Exclusive Excerpt:
I realize that without assistance nearby from Casey, I would not be able to maintain the psybridge alone. I send him waves of gratitude and he nods at me. No one has to do this all on their own. It occurs to me, then to both of us. His special divination, his unique attainment, is empathic. He gleans from other divs that he syncs and replicates their capabilities. This is a new skill he is tapping into. He smiles with a hint of surprise and amazement before a hint of fear shows in his eyes. We both know the ability he is beginning to unlock through Four is incredibly rare and powerful. I nod at him, signaling my confidence in his abilities.
“Ready, Div Kenzari, Div Isaac,” Murtagh speaks and transfers her message to ensure we are tuned into each other in body and mind. “Prepare for mass heartstar turning.”
Murtagh stands in the pontiff suite at the metaglass bow of the yacht. She lifts her hands to the heartstar shining brightly in her chest. Casey does the same. Through the psybridge Murtagh’s voice is mighty as she addresses hundreds of divs ready to level up. Everyone, steady.
Murtagh and Casey turn hundreds of heartstars, locating within each the light-thread connecting each Div to MaalenKun’s energy. The sound of a bass drum echoes throughout our connections, and a low steady AUM builds as glowing mandalas expand and turn around Casey’s mudras. Hundreds of light-threads pour through the psybridge, glistening through space, and funnel through the mandalas. The array reaches into the crystal chamber and pins MaalenKun down just as Vasif breaks through, tearing away an entire end of the crystal before flowing inside and descending onto the immobilized Haddyc.
Now! I shout through the psybridge.
All the divs, all the Sages create space with and through their light-threads. Casey channels it into the trapped storm being enveloped by Vasif’s radiance. Vasif expands like rolling fog descending onto the darkened storm cloud. The force pushes against the Haddyc’s body within Vasif. As planned, the force steers the crystal closer to the rift.
Vasif roars like breaking timber as MaalenKun screams the sounds of bending metal. With fast moving vines, Vasif pulls MaalenKun into its body. A flash of purple-black lightning is quickly disarmed within Vasif’s expanding luminous body. The dingy cloud that is MaalenKun explodes into sprays of grey light and ash which slam against the interior of the crystal chamber and knock us onto our knees. The violent bursts of grey give way to explosions of white light before the explosions become invisible light, seen only psychically. As Vasif’s luminous body rips apart the Haddyc’s storm, sounds of metal bending and breaking reverberate through the crystal’s cracked surface.
The cracks grow and spread as the crystal chamber moves toward the rift.
Yahima looks back toward Mira and Liam. “Signal Vasif!”
“Hurry!” Mira urges. “Vasif is struggling!”
Yahima slides the ornate cover away from the coffer and hands it back to me.
The misty leaves which merged with the golden festoon within the ring shine brightly as they peel away. The leaves stretch long and thin. They become a film of glowing colors which psychically reaches towards Vasif. The EDB has shifted its shape as well. It has become a luminous whirling pale mist stretching toward the rift. A flash emerges from within the ring and a high-pitched peal pours from it. The rift crackles before a low hum reverberates from it. It is unlocked. The Helixx Corp drones zoom forward into the rift. Their flashing lights drift into the half-lit interior and disappear. Hundreds of divs work to immobilize and dull MaalenKun, and Vasif consumes the Haddyc. Vasif stretches itself into the dull half-light of the rift and expels the shredded body of MaalenKun and all of the Haddyc energy it had consumed and contained back
Through the psybridge, the sounds of hundreds of divs reaching new Levels builds. An ebullient music of their emotion swells and cascades around us. Joy bubbles forth from within and rolls like a wave through us, uplifting us all.
The unstable crystal shatters!
Vasif begins to drift. Luminous thin mists stretch from its body, and it clings to the open space around it.
From within the rift, a bolt of purple-black lightning rushes out, sizzling the space around it. As it moves past us, several of our gear functions are affected. I try to call Ops through the comm but hear only my voice reverberating in the helmet. My HUD flickers and faintly indicates that all of our thrusters are offline, but I swear I hear their quiet whistle through a looped sensation.
Casey drifts into the rift first. Yahima slings the coffer containing the ring back, away from the rift, as they sail into the half-light. Through our psybridge, I hear Liam and Mira and Carmel screaming as the two prescient divinators who could not see this coming disappear into the rift. Mira and Liam drop away from my psybridge. Carmel panics.
The music of the levels becomes discordant. Joy is torn away. The nimbuses grind against each other as they fall out of sync. There are so many. Even the Sages cannot hold them in place.
Vasif catches the coffer and begins to shapeshift into its more human-like body. I drop the ornate coffer cover, and it floats away. Misty vines wrap around the cover and the clear box containing the ring.
Behind me, a bright, fiery light grows as the purple-black lightning breaks the shields and pierces the wings. The psybridge is filled with wailing moments before the low boom of exploding deep space V’s reaches me. It all fades into muffled distortions as I drift helplessly amidst broken crystal and empty space.
My thrusters come back online, and I right myself.
TQ Sims writes stories that center Queer characters in supernormal situations. In their first novel Godspeed, Lovers, two men fall in love while using their psychic powers to battle sentient storms and an evil corporation that wishes to control them. Godspeed, Lovers is a story about mental health, post-traumatic growth, and found family.
TQ’s story “The Ritual” was a finalist in competition at the Tennessee Williams and New Orleans Literary Festival in 2022. Their work has appeared in Louisiana Words, Beyond Queer Words, and The Queer and Trans Guide to Storms. They live in New Orleans with their partner and a growing number of cats.
Tropes: romantic suspense, hot-headed journalist, troubled player, lovers to enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, found family, second chance, gay romance, mm romance, romantic suspense, gay, mm, romance, new release, announcement, giveaway
Is This Part of a Series?: Yes
Position (Number) in Series: 4
Necessary to Read Previous Books: No, But It Doesn’t Hurt
Series Title: Jake’s Bar
Other Books in Series Available for Review?: Yes
Title for Other Book(s) in Series:
1-End of the Line
2-Crossing the Line
3-Outside the Lines
Book Blurb:
Revenge is a Dangerous Obsession.
Dean Hunt needs the story of a lifetime—Since his uncompromising attitude got him fired, the investigative journalist is hell-bent to expose the powerful and corrupt Conway family. It’s a career move, and absolutely not a vendetta against the oldest son Noel, who ghosted Dean after a mind-blowing weekend together.
Noel Conway needs a new start—After years away, Noel has come home to rebuild the bridges he’s burned. Too bad his past caused a ripple effect he can’t outrun. Now, he’s asked to save his family from the one man he never expected to see again but can’t forget.
Dean is chasing front-page news, and Noel is trying to protect the ones he loves. But the line between enemies and lovers gets blurred when a dangerous criminal from Noel’s past resurfaces. Will the truth shatter their tentative trust? Or do they have a shot at happily ever after?
But none of that matters when suddenly Noel disappears…
Down the Line, the final book in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a spicy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar.
Warnings: smoking cigarettes and weed in the hot tub, kidnapping (on page scenes restrained), verbally abusive father
Series Blurb:
The award-winning Jake’s Bar series is a set of steamy, M/M romantic suspense novels, featuring a rainbow- colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle.
Non-Exclusive Excerpt:
As Dean reached the top of the staircase, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of his door. Dean straightened his shoulders. “Detective Conway.”
“Hunt.”
In a parallel universe, they might have been friends. They were fighting the same fight. Had the same enemies. In this world, they weren’t brothers in arms. In this world, Dean had been cast as the villain.
“How can I help you this fine morning?”
“Open the door. We gotta talk.”
“Look, it’s been a long night—”
“Just open the damn door.” Conway snarled, pushing into Dean’s personal space.
Dean stood his ground. “Are you here in an official capacity? Because then, the answer is no, I won’t let you in. You have no warrant, no permission to search my property. I don’t consent—”
“Just shut the fuck up. None of us wants this shitshow to be on the record,” Con growled.
Dean, curious, took a step back and raised his empty hand, palm up. “Okay.”
He fished for his key, pushed open the door, and quickly disarmed his alarm system. Conway didn’t wait to be invited in, just crossed the living room, dropped his shearling coat onto the sofa, then walked over to the large window overlooking the river.
The view was the only redeeming feature of Dean’s otherwise-generic apartment. The mess didn’t help. There were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, a pizza box on the breakfast counter separating the cramped kitchen from the living room, and an unmade bed in the other corner of the room.
“For a guy who anxiously waited at my doorstep, you’re awfully quiet.” Dean smirked. “Coffee?”
“No.” Conway turned his back, now studying the row of framed newspaper front pages Dean had hung on the apartment’s interior wall. His personal collection of historic headlines—headlines that changed the world.
The oldest was from July 6, 1776. The Pennsylvania Evening Post, printing the Declaration of Independence on its front page. Next to it, the Daily Telegram, declaring the end of the Second World War. The two most recent, the New York Times’ “OBAMA: Racial barrier falls in heavy turnout” and, of course, the front page the day after 9/11.
Dean had added a few more personal favorites, like Moneta J. Sleet’s photography of Coretta Scott King at MLK’s funeral. The first Black man to win the Pulitzer for journalism.
Conway took his time examining each framed newspaper. Dean already regretted allowing the intrusion into his space. He felt exposed—vulnerable—under silent scrutiny.
Irritated, he started banging around the kitchen. He was in no mood to explain that looking at those headlines every day fueled his ambitions and inspired his dreams. Dean believed with every fiber of his being in the power of a free and independent press.
He turned on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. As if Conway felt Dean’s angry glare across the room, he finally turned and stared right back. For a moment, they engaged in a silent standoff.
Unease flittered through Dean. Camille had been right. Her brother was seething with anger. And Dean had no fucking idea what he’d done to piss him off. He sighed and shook his head, then took two mugs out of the cabinet and put them onto the island. “Miguel, have a damn coffee. You look like you need it.”
“Says the man who clearly slept in his party clothes and crept home at sunup.”
“Guilty as charged.” Dean shrugged.
Conway curled his lip. “I do not know what my sister sees in you.”
It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t bother with an answer. “You wanted to talk? So, talk.”
Instead of talking, though, Conway pulled out a stack of papers. Pushing aside the coffee cups to make room, he spread them out over the counter.
Dean froze. The first blurry photograph featured Dean in another man’s arms. In the next, the same man was pressing Dean against a white porch railing, his own hands tangled in the man’s messy curls. Conway fanned the stack, revealing nearly a dozen more.
Dean and Noel Conway, kissing.
Suddenly, he was there again, the ocean breeze tugging on his clothes. Noel’s warm skin, tasting like sunshine and a hint of salt, his eyes blown with desire. Goddamn, so fucking beautiful, with that shy smile, whispered promises—
Dean’s throat was desert dry. His ragged breath and the hissing of the coffee machine came together like a fucking symphony. “I—”
“Save it. My sister thinks you’re this hotshot journalist. Full of passion. Braving adversity. Motivated by a noble cause. Yeah, fuck that. You’re after my family because Noel pounded your ass, then dropped you like he does everybody else. Your pride—your precious ego—is hurt because you’re just another notch in my brother’s carved-up bedpost.”
Conway grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. He turned and added, “Watch it, Hunt. You got no job. No friends. No prospects. But if you think you’ve reached rock bottom, think again.”
Dean contained himself until he heard his door close with a soft click. Only then did he allow himself to swipe papers, cups, and the fucking photos off his counter. The cups shattered on the tile floor.
Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.
When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.
Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.
When workaholic Pierce Simms’s sister passes, he suddenly finds himself unemployed, back in the hometown he fled, and raising his niece and nephew. Despite that, he’s confident he has things under control—at least until his sister’s high-school sweetheart shows up.
With his teaching grant ended, Dalton O’Dell is at loose ends and tight purse strings. Just as the world crashes down on him, he learns his ex-girlfriend has passed and named him guardian of her two young children. Chaos ensues when he and her brother, Pierce, are forced together to raise the toddlers in Pierce’s family farmhouse.
Nestled in the enchanting beauty of the farm, Pierce and Dalton bond over the challenges of co-parenting and their shared grief as unexpected love blossoms. Love might not be enough, however, if they can’t learn to bridge the gap between their different worlds and overcome the trauma of their pasts.
Excerpt
“Let’s discuss how to proceed,” Pierce’s attorney, a short, businesslike woman, said. For thirty minutes, Pierce kept the baby occupied while his attorney and Uncle Tim discussed the details of the will. I sat watching Pierce.
The little girl kept bringing her uncle toys that had been left in the office for kids to play with, and each time, he’d smile or ask her questions. Eventually, the baby boy settled and snuggled sleepily in his arms. That’s when my heart melted. This wasn’t an absentee uncle. Clearly, he was important to them and vice versa. It made me question whether a custody fight was prudent.
“Why did Lizzie want me to raise her kids instead of you?” I blurted, interrupting our attorneys and surprising myself.
A pained expression crossed Pierce’s face as he spoke to me for the first time. “When she made her will, she probably figured I’d never come back. We were… estranged,” he said, voice gruff.
“But you’re back now, and these two seem to trust you. How long have you been taking care of them?”
His pained look morphed into one so grief-stricken I felt tempted to hug him. “About six months,” he whispered.
I nodded in thought. “Do you have a job? Are you married? What’s your wife like? Is she on board with helping raise them?”
My uncle cleared his throat, signaling to me to let the lawyers handle the questioning, but I couldn’t help myself. For a moment, Pierce looked a little stunned by the sudden barrage, but he answered. “I’m recently unemployed, but I received a good severance package. I’m set for at least a few months before I need to work full-time again. I’m not married.” He hesitated then, his face resolute, before spinning the question back around. “You?”
I shrugged. “Unmarried and recently unemployed as well.” Ignoring his challenging stare, I continued honestly. “I see these two love you, depend on you. I don’t understand all this, but I trust Lizzie had her reasons for naming me their guardian. I won’t relinquish that responsibility. Not without knowing for certain they’re in good hands.”
Pierce nodded, and his expression softened a little. “I’m not stepping out of their lives without knowing the same thing. Frankie and Max have already been through too much for two little kids. I’ll be here until they don’t need me.”
“So we’re at an impasse,” I said.
Uncle Tim cleared his throat again. “Or maybe it’s an opportunity. Mr. Simms, may I call you Pierce? I understand you inherited your father’s farm?” Pierce glanced at him and nodded. “And Dalton, you’re looking for a place to stay. Why don’t you boys combine forces? Dalton, your farming experience might be of great help to Pierce, and you’ll both have time to get to know one another and observe the other’s parenting style.”
I looked at my uncle, aghast. “Uncle Tim, that’s probably not a good idea. Mr. Simms, surely you have a girlfriend or something? I couldn’t impose—”
Pierce barked out a laugh, nearly waking baby Max, who’d fallen asleep in his arms. “I’m gay and single.” He glanced down at his nephew, then over to his niece, Frankie, before refocusing on me. “I understand you work with kids, but do you feel comfortable caring for kids this young?”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t have much experience being around kids this age. In my previous job, they already knew their ABCs when they came to me.”
Pierce appeared lost in thought before he sighed and his shoulders dropped, as if he were giving up the fight. “Honestly, I could use the help. When Lizzie got sick, friends and neighbors helped, but that tapered off. Now it’s just us. I could use another pair of adult hands, especially at night.”
“And there’s room at your house?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying in my sister’s room, which has an adjoining area where the kids sleep. You could take the main bedroom right across the hall. But fair warning,” he said, a mischievous smile forming on his lips, “if you move in, you’ll have night duty too. Max only sleeps four or five hours, which means 1:00 a.m. diaper-changing time. You up for that?”
I could tell he was testing me, and screw him. I slept like the dead, but I could set an alarm.
I nodded. “I’m up for it if you are.”
We both looked at our attorneys, who wore matching grins. “Well, then,” Uncle Tim said, “sounds like we’ve got a plan.”
About the Author
Greyson McCoy loves to travel. After years of being tied down to a life of kids, work, running a small farm, and all things domestic, he and his husband have taken full advantage of their empty nest to travel the world.
The joy of writing came to Greyson late in life. While completing his master’s degree, he found himself fighting between desperately wanting to write fiction and finishing the homework and papers he’d been assigned.
After his master’s was finished, Greyson decided to shirk his life of responsibility and pursue his dream of writing full time. His stories reflect many of the locations he and his husband have visited over the years.
Keywords/Categories: fantasy, science fiction, sci-fantasy, dragons, sci-fi, new release, announcement, gay, lesbian, bisexual, non-binary, young adult, crossover, gay, bisexual, non-binary, lesbian, new release, announcement, giveaway
Is This Part of a Series?: Yes
Position (Number) in Series: 3
Necessary to Read Previous Books: Yes
Series Title: The Tharassas Cycle
Other Books in Series Available for Review?: Yes
Title for Other Book(s) in Series:
0 – Tales From Tharassas
1 – The Dragon Eater
2 – The Gauntlet Runner
Was This Book Published in An Earlier Edition?: No
Book Blurb:
SILYA COMES INTO HER OWN, BUT WILL SHE BE ENOUGH?
Silya finally has everything she always wanted. She’s the Hencha Queen, head of the Temple, and is working to master her newfound talents. So why does the world pick now to fall apart?
Her once-nemesis Raven is off riding dragons, and their mutual friend (and her ex) Aik is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, a new threat menaces the Heartland from the East, and if she can’t convince a reluctant Gullton city council to prepare for the worst, she may lose everyone and everything she’s ever cared about.
As she uses her magic-like abilities, wit and sheer determination to try to save the city, she’s joined by Raven and his new friends. Will their help tip the scales? And will they finally find out what happened to Aik as a dark storm threatens to sweep them all away?
Forget messy. Things just got apocalyptic.
Series Blurb:
The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.
First Two Books On Sale (& Get a Free Book)
Use the included tharassas-sale.jpg graphic with this section.
Books 1 & 2 are on sale through March 31st for just 99¢ each (eBooks, all vendors). And if you buy one (or all three) of the main series books, email scott@jscottcoatsworth.com</a> and let him know and he’ll send you a free copy of Tales From Tharassas, the prequel.
A sharp crack filled the wine cellar. Kerrick swung the heavy mallet back and then assailed the flopwood boards that blocked the tunnel entrance again. The ancient wood splintered under the blow, sending shards clattering across the stone-paved floor.
It felt good to work out his frustrations. Still, the stubborn wood held out against his assault.
He rested the mallet on the black-tiled stone floor, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Even after a hundred years, the barrier was strong. He’d tried to pry the boards out of the solid stone, but they’d been fastened in too tightly. Brute force it is.
“You’re doing great!” Cor’Lea’s voice was artificially bright, and she was as tall as he was, maybe a little taller, peering over his shoulder at the sealed tunnel entrance.
Silya had tasked her with bringing him down here to check out these hidden caverns under the Temple, in preparation for the coming war. Important, sure, but also clearly an excuse to get him out from underfoot while she prepared for her official Raising.
He grunted. “Thanks. These boards are hard as iron.” And hard as Silya’s will.
One day things would be different between them, once this crisis was over. I just have to be patient.
Coral laughed. “I’m sure a big, strong man like you can break through them easily.” She squeezed his bicep appreciatively.
He shrugged her off. He wasn’t sure if the gawky initiate was flirting with him or just trying to encourage him to get on with it, but either way, he wasn’t interested. “Stand back.” He hefted the hammer again, and she scurried out of his way.
He suppressed a smile, swinging the mallet around for another heavy blow.
Craack.
This time the board buckled inward visibly. Another few hits should do it.
He pulled back the heavy iron hammer again and hit the same spot with blow after blow. Craack. Craack. Craack.
The mallet broke through and a board fell away into splinters, clattering across the stone floor. One down, three more to go. “Why did they seal this cavern up?”
Cor’Lea gestured at the natural chamber. “There was a winery here before the Temple. Sister Dor said they used to use it for extra wine storage.” She looked around the natural chamber, which was now filled with wooden shelving holding a variety of bottled food stores. “When Jas ordered the Temple to be constructed, they kept this wide cavern and blocked off the rest of the tunnels.”
“Just in case the gully rats got in?” That thief Raven had apparently made his home in one of the underground tunnels. Who knew who else—or what else—lived down there?
Cor’Lea snorted. “Maybe.”
Are tunnels all connected, somehow? That was one of Silya’s most urgent projects, to map out the network of caverns beneath the city. Another reason she sent me down here—to get me out from under her robes.
A few more whacks at the next board served to both break it and let out his frustrations at the situation preventing him from doing his sworn job and keeping them apart. And at what she said was coming.
Craack. Craack. Craack.
The board snapped in half, and he judged that he’d cleared enough space to step through into the blocked-off tunnel. “Hand me that lantern?
Cor’Lea complied, taking the opportunity to brush his hand.
He rolled his eyes. I should be flattered. But his heart was already taken.
It was times like these he wished his brother Enrick were still alive. He’d know what to do. He’d been absurdly confident about everything, even though he’d been younger than Kerrick.
Kerrick wasn’t great with women.
He took the lantern and stepped over the bottom board, holding it in front of him. The bright light temporarily blinded him as he sought to get his bearings.
“What do you see?” Cor’Lea peered through the hole behind him.
His sight adjusted, and the tunnel’s walls came into focus.
He whistled. Stacked along the side of the tunnel were hundreds of crates, all strapped together in groups and sealed. “It’s… I don’t know what it is. But I’ll bet Silya will be surprised.” They’d have to find a place to put all this stuff—whatever it was, it was likely rotten after all this time. Silya needed somewhere to store people, not ancient goods.
Cor’Lea stepped carefully over the splintered boards to join him. “What do you think’s inside them?”
The long row of crates disappeared into the darkness. Who knew what the ancients had considered valuable enough to stash down here. Coin? Lost treasure? “One way to find out. Does the Temple have a crowbar?”
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.
He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).
Today, I’m delighted to hand over my blog for the release of The Hencha Queen by J. Scott Coatsworth. Congratulations on your new release, Scott! Wishing you every well-deserved success with your story!
Keywords/Categories: fantasy, science fiction, sci-fantasy, dragons, sci-fi, new release, announcement, gay, lesbian, bisexual, non-binary, young adult, crossover, gay, bisexual, non-binary, lesbian, new release, announcement, giveaway
Is This Part of a Series?: Yes
Position (Number) in Series: 3
Necessary to Read Previous Books: Yes
Series Title: The Tharassas Cycle
Other Books in Series Available for Review?: Yes
Title for Other Book(s) in Series:
0 – Tales From Tharassas
1 – The Dragon Eater
2 – The Gauntlet Runner
Was This Book Published in An Earlier Edition?: No
Book Blurb:
SILYA COMES INTO HER OWN, BUT WILL SHE BE ENOUGH?
Silya finally has everything she always wanted. She’s the Hencha Queen, head of the Temple, and is working to master her newfound talents. So why does the world pick now to fall apart?
Her once-nemesis Raven is off riding dragons, and their mutual friend (and her ex) Aik is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, a new threat menaces the Heartland from the East, and if she can’t convince a reluctant Gullton city council to prepare for the worst, she may lose everyone and everything she’s ever cared about.
As she uses her magic-like abilities, wit and sheer determination to try to save the city, she’s joined by Raven and his new friends. Will their help tip the scales? And will they finally find out what happened to Aik as a dark storm threatens to sweep them all away?
Forget messy. Things just got apocalyptic.
Series Blurb:
The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.
First Two Books On Sale (& Get a Free Book)
Use the included tharassas-sale.jpg graphic with this section.
Books 1 & 2 are on sale through March 31st for just 99¢ each (eBooks, all vendors). And if you buy one (or all three) of the main series books, email scott@jscottcoatsworth.com</a> and let him know and he’ll send you a free copy of Tales From Tharassas, the prequel.
A sharp crack filled the wine cellar. Kerrick swung the heavy mallet back and then assailed the flopwood boards that blocked the tunnel entrance again. The ancient wood splintered under the blow, sending shards clattering across the stone-paved floor.
It felt good to work out his frustrations. Still, the stubborn wood held out against his assault.
He rested the mallet on the black-tiled stone floor, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Even after a hundred years, the barrier was strong. He’d tried to pry the boards out of the solid stone, but they’d been fastened in too tightly. Brute force it is.
“You’re doing great!” Cor’Lea’s voice was artificially bright, and she was as tall as he was, maybe a little taller, peering over his shoulder at the sealed tunnel entrance.
Silya had tasked her with bringing him down here to check out these hidden caverns under the Temple, in preparation for the coming war. Important, sure, but also clearly an excuse to get him out from underfoot while she prepared for her official Raising.
He grunted. “Thanks. These boards are hard as iron.” And hard as Silya’s will.
One day things would be different between them, once this crisis was over. I just have to be patient.
Coral laughed. “I’m sure a big, strong man like you can break through them easily.” She squeezed his bicep appreciatively.
He shrugged her off. He wasn’t sure if the gawky initiate was flirting with him or just trying to encourage him to get on with it, but either way, he wasn’t interested. “Stand back.” He hefted the hammer again, and she scurried out of his way.
He suppressed a smile, swinging the mallet around for another heavy blow.
Craack.
This time the board buckled inward visibly. Another few hits should do it.
He pulled back the heavy iron hammer again and hit the same spot with blow after blow. Craack. Craack. Craack.
The mallet broke through and a board fell away into splinters, clattering across the stone floor. One down, three more to go. “Why did they seal this cavern up?”
Cor’Lea gestured at the natural chamber. “There was a winery here before the Temple. Sister Dor said they used to use it for extra wine storage.” She looked around the natural chamber, which was now filled with wooden shelving holding a variety of bottled food stores. “When Jas ordered the Temple to be constructed, they kept this wide cavern and blocked off the rest of the tunnels.”
“Just in case the gully rats got in?” That thief Raven had apparently made his home in one of the underground tunnels. Who knew who else—or what else—lived down there?
Cor’Lea snorted. “Maybe.”
Are tunnels all connected, somehow? That was one of Silya’s most urgent projects, to map out the network of caverns beneath the city. Another reason she sent me down here—to get me out from under her robes.
A few more whacks at the next board served to both break it and let out his frustrations at the situation preventing him from doing his sworn job and keeping them apart. And at what she said was coming.
Craack. Craack. Craack.
The board snapped in half, and he judged that he’d cleared enough space to step through into the blocked-off tunnel. “Hand me that lantern?
Cor’Lea complied, taking the opportunity to brush his hand.
He rolled his eyes. I should be flattered. But his heart was already taken.
It was times like these he wished his brother Enrick were still alive. He’d know what to do. He’d been absurdly confident about everything, even though he’d been younger than Kerrick.
Kerrick wasn’t great with women.
He took the lantern and stepped over the bottom board, holding it in front of him. The bright light temporarily blinded him as he sought to get his bearings.
“What do you see?” Cor’Lea peered through the hole behind him.
His sight adjusted, and the tunnel’s walls came into focus.
He whistled. Stacked along the side of the tunnel were hundreds of crates, all strapped together in groups and sealed. “It’s… I don’t know what it is. But I’ll bet Silya will be surprised.” They’d have to find a place to put all this stuff—whatever it was, it was likely rotten after all this time. Silya needed somewhere to store people, not ancient goods.
Cor’Lea stepped carefully over the splintered boards to join him. “What do you think’s inside them?”
The long row of crates disappeared into the darkness. Who knew what the ancients had considered valuable enough to stash down here. Coin? Lost treasure? “One way to find out. Does the Temple have a crowbar?”
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.
He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).
Was This Book Published in An Earlier Edition?: No
Book Blurb:
The Earth shook the morning actor Ethan Bradley arrived in Los Angeles looking for a second chance. He hoped his former producers Reese Matheson and Toby Griffiths meant it when they said to look them up if he were ever in LA because he had no other options. The pictures the paparazzi took at the wrap party for their London show made sure of that. What he wasn’t counting on was the reception he got from their manager, Arthur Frye. He was absolutely the kind of together guy Ethan wished would notice him, and for more than his pretty face and talent. Too bad Arthur only sees Ethan as a complication.
Arthur Frye has his hands full with his best clients—and best friends. The last thing he needs is another diva to care for, especially one who has a reputation for causing trouble. He has a strict rule against getting involved with the talent, no matter how pretty they are. Only Ethan Bradley shines for real, and when Arthur realizes his nice-guy innocence is genuine, he’s ready to do anything to help Ethan get his career back on track and get him out of LA. He’s too much of a temptation, and Arthur can’t afford to lose focus…not even for a chance at happiness for himself. Especially not when his star clients are about to risk their professional and personal happiness with their newest creation; a musical about two boys falling in love in the 1960s featuring music written by Reese’s grandfather, whose health is in decline.
Ethan Bradley shakes things up wherever he goes, and Arthur Frye is afraid he’ll be left in the wreckage if he gets too close. Can these two opposites find love on solid ground?
Warnings: implied sexual abuse off page
Series Blurb:
Forces of Nature follows a group of talented men who are natural disasters, and the men who love them.
Non-Exclusive Excerpt:
The morning after Ethan Bradley landed at LAX the earth shook. Literally. Being from Iowa, he’d always been afraid of earthquakes. He remembered watching footage when he was a little boy of the one that hit Northridge and it stayed with him. He’d even turned down a part in the film San Andreas because he was terrified of the real thing.
Plus—at the time—he’d wanted to be considered a serious actor, and accepting a role in a Hollywood disaster blockbuster didn’t fit in with his professional goals. Instead, he’d ended up going to London to film a clever romantic comedy. Then came the stage and more accolades at the age of twenty-six than he’d imagined possible.
When his hotel room rattled his first morning in LA and sent him diving under the desk in the early hours, he’d wished he’d stayed.
But London had nothing to offer him after the paparazzi ruined his life, and he couldn’t go home. So there he was, back in the states, and ready to grovel before his former producer—and crush—for a role, any role, that would allow him to get back to doing what he loved…acting, singing, performing.
Love was a strong word. It was what he knew, what he was good at, where his God-given talents lay.
He’d come to LA with a plan. Sort of. Go see Reese Matheson. Pray he opened the door and took pity on him. And that he didn’t hold a grudge.
He plugged the Malibu address he’d gotten from his London manager’s office into the Lyft app and went outside to wait for his ride. And prayed.
If Reese wouldn’t see him, he had a plan B.
He’d go to see Reese’s business partner Toby Griffiths. Which was probably a terrible idea, but the best he had.
Because there was no plan C.
He had exactly fifty dollars cash on him and a credit card dangerously close to being maxed out. Rock bottom was flying up to meet him fast.
The Lyft driver dropped him off at the end of a long driveway leading to a quaint little house that backed up to the Malibu shoreline. He knew nine o’clock on a Sunday morning was early, but the earthquake had shaken him so much, he couldn’t wait to get out of his room at the Holiday Inn. He’d been to LA before to promote his films, but he’d never felt comfortable among the glitz and glamour of Hollywood and Beverly Hills.
Malibu had the scenery people thought of when they imagined Southern California. Palm trees, mountains that broke off into the sea, miles of sand with beautiful people jogging along the water’s edge. It was picturesque, and sometimes cliché. For Ethan, it represented his last hope.
He climbed the steps, cleared his throat, reached for that enthusiastic confidence that used to come so easy for him once upon a time—
The door opened before he even had a chance to knock.
The short Filipino man standing there in a pair of scrubs had one eyebrow raised and a hand on his hip.
“Can I help you?”
His tone didn’t come across as helpful, despite his words.
“Yeah, sorry. I’m looking for Reese Matheson? My name is—“
“I know who you are.” The man’s raised eyebrow turned into a frown. “Just a minute,” he said before closing the door with a little less force than a slam.
Breathe. It’s fine. Reese is a good guy. He won’t be angry that I showed up. He’s a generous, kind person—
R.L. Merrill brings you stories of Hope, Love, and Rock ‘n’ Roll featuring quirky and relatable characters. Whether she’s writing about contemporary issues that affect us all or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, she loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after.
Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, Foreword INDIES finalist for Summer of Hush and RONE finalist for Typhoon Toby, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after.
She writes diverse and inclusive romance, contributes paranormal hilarity to Robyn Peterman’s Magic and Mayhem Universe, and works on various other writing and mentoring projects that tickle her fancy or benefit a worthy cause. You can find her connecting with readers on social media, educating America’s youth, raising two brilliant teenagers, trying desperately to get that back piece finished in the tattoo chair, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more Rock ‘n’ Romance.
Publishing Company: Vegan Wolf Productions (Self-published)
Cover Artist: Kim Ramsey-Winkler
Primary Plot Arc: Speculative Fiction
Pairings: MM
Main Genre(s): Paranormal, Romance
Story Type: Novel (>50k)
Word Count: 80000
LGBTQ+ Identities (if applicable): Gay
Keywords/Categories: werewolves, fated mates, gay, cisgender, shifters, paranormal, romance, PNR, paranormal romance, mm romance, gay romance, mm, gay, new release, announcement, giveaway
Is This Part of a Series?: Yes
Position (Number) in Series: Fifth
Necessary to Read Previous Books: No, But It Doesn’t Hurt
Series Title: Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat
Other Books in Series Available for Review?: Yes
Title for Other Book(s) in Series:
1- Salad on the Side
2- Veggie Burgers to Go
3- Hummus on Rye
4- Try the Tofu
Was This Book Published in An Earlier Edition?: This book was originally published in 2014 under the same title. This edition has been re-edited and updated from the original, and a new ending has been written.
Book Blurb:
Tobias Rogan never wanted to be a leader. But in the past several months, he’s gone from a quiet life as Alpha of the smallest pack in the United States to ruling the entire Northeast Region. With his mate, Kyle Slidell, by his side, Tobias is adjusting to his new normal.
But now, with the future of the entire werewolf world at stake, Tobias must step further out of his comfort zone. The Anax, ruler of all werewolves in the United States, is no longer competent to rule. Only Tobias is dominant enough to defeat the Anax. And when Kyle’s life hangs in the balance, Tobias must choose: Challenge the Anax to claim the rank, or allow the Anax to declare war.
Warnings: Mentions past child abuse and sexual assault; depicts PTSD; some homophobia.
Series Blurb:
Kyle Slidell didn’t move to Boston expecting to be changed into a werewolf. But that’s what happened. He can’t control whether he shifts at the full moon, but he can damn sure continue being vegan–even in wolf form.
Tobias Rogan, Alpha of Boston North Pack, never expected to fall in love with anyone, let alone a man. A male Alpha is not supposed to have a male partner. But when he meets Kyle, he’s immediately attracted. And after Kyle is changed, Tobias realizes the truth: Kyle is not only his partner, but his mate.
The werewolf world isn’t a simple place, and Kyle and Tobias are thrown into the middle of conflict within and among the packs of the United States–a conflict that extends all the way to the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Can they and their love survive what they face?
Non-Exclusive Excerpt:
The Anax had left me alone to rule the Northeast Region since March. All along, I’d known the respite wouldn’t last. Every time someone entered my territory, I wondered if they were the Anax’s new puppet. Every time I sensed something off-kilter, I wondered if the Anax had finally decided to have me killed. It wasn’t a pleasant way to live, and my relationship with Kyle had suffered for it. I hadn’t been able to relax and enjoy being with him, and we were both always on guard.
Knowing someone had finally come here on the Anax’s orders—and likely under his control—was almost a relief. He had finally made his move, and now I could respond.
Fear ran along the bond between Kyle and me, and I sent back reassurance. He was still asleep, but he’d sensed something. I couldn’t let him leave the bedroom. If I had to worry about him being harmed, I wouldn’t be able to focus on the fight awaiting me outside.
I’d hesitated deliberately, hoping to put my visitor off-balance. He would have expected me to barge outside to confront him, because that was what dominant wolves did when someone invaded their territory. I wasn’t a typical dominant wolf, though, something the Anax should have told his little pal.
Now I opened the door and stepped outside. My eyes adjusted almost instantly to the difference in light between the kitchen, where two nightlights stayed on throughout the night, and the back yard.
I saw no one, but the sense of an unfamiliar presence grew stronger. He waited just out of sight, possibly hidden in the trees on the other side of the lawn.
I stepped down onto the grass. “I know you’re there.” I spoke softly and sent a pulse of compulsion through the words. “Come out and speak to me. Tell me who sent you. Tell me why you’re here.”
If I was wrong and this was merely a typical visitor, the compulsion would have worked. I was more dominant, and therefore more powerful, than most of the wolves in the country. Generally I could even cut through compulsions set by alphas or other arkhons. But I couldn’t counter a compulsion set by the Anax, especially if he still controlled the wolf. Somehow, over the course of his rule, the Anax had gained the power to completely take over any of his wolves who were weak enough. It made him and his servants even more dangerous.
I took two slow steps forward, bracing myself for an attack that still didn’t come. The scent of an unfamiliar wolf, not from my region, filled my nose. I was unable to detect his exact location. He was definitely male, and definitely ready for a fight. Waiting, most likely, for me to come to him.
“You don’t have to fight me,” I said gently. “Come speak with me. I can help you.”
Something rustled to my left. The intruder was in the woods, then. That might be a problem. The trees would give him cover to attack me before I saw.
“I can help you,” I said again, adding more compulsion to the words.
I felt as if I were pushing on a brick wall. Only the Anax had the power to block my compulsion so thoroughly. And yet I did get through the block to a degree. A soft whine from the same spot as the rustling told me so.
I couldn’t let this drag on. There was no way I could completely break the Anax’s control of my visitor. If I simply went back inside, refusing to fight, the intruder might follow, which would bring danger to Kyle and to my employees. If I remained where I was, he would come to me, which would at least put any fight in my control.
We would fight, though. That was what I sensed most strongly. The wolf who had come to me hadn’t come by choice, and he wouldn’t leave until one of us was dead.
It would be him. I was a better fighter than anyone the Anax could send. I didn’t want to kill the poor sap lurking in the bushes, but if it came to a choice between him and me, I would survive by whatever means necessary.
I approached the area where I’d heard the sounds. Even though it probably would have been smarter to remain silent, I continued to speak, hoping I would somehow persuade him to at least return to human form. I didn’t want to fight in wolf form. Wolf fights tended to be messy. If he confronted me in human form, I might be able to prevent death.
“Shift back,” I urged. “Become human again so we can talk. I know what your orders are and from whom they come. That doesn’t mean you have to follow through. We can talk about it. I can help you if you shift back.”
Sending strong compulsion against the block the Anax had set in the wolf ’s mind gave me a headache, but I kept trying as I slowly walked forward. The wolf whined again, more loudly. Pain flooded the noise. His head was probably also throbbing right now from the dueling compulsions in his brain.
“I know it hurts,” I murmured. “Shift back and I can help you stop the pain.”
Before I could say another word, he lunged out of the bushes and knocked me to the ground. Claws and teeth tore at me, and an ugly, putrid scent filled my nose. This wolf was nearly dead already. God only knew how far he’d traveled on the Anax’s orders.
I had a second to glance into his eyes. Any rationality that might once have been there was gone.
Karenna Colcroft lives just north of Boston, Massachusetts, and has been in love with the city since childhood, though she has yet to encounter any werewolves, vampires, or other paranormal beings in her travels. At least none that she knows of.
Karenna is a polyamorous, nonbinary human who splits time between the home she shares with her husband and the one she shares with her committed partner. She also has two adult children and three “bonus” kids, four grandchildren, and two and a half cats. (Half in terms of time the cat lives with her, not in terms of the cat itself…)
In the distant star cluster Messier 4, the vast and stagnant civilization of the Apeilous sits on the verge of its next great expansion. Several massive corporations have merged to start the Endeavor, the most far-reaching economic and humanitarian effort in history.
Vesta Amore leads a small team of private security specializing in the protection of whistleblowers and corporate defectors. She has no interest in the Endeavor until she is swept off her feet by the suave leader of the Fortuna Corp, an equal partner in the Endeavor. Balancing her altruism with the realities of power, Vesta joins the Fortuna as they work to establish a supply route along the contested northern border.
Cal Sunn is a career detective looking forward to retirement. When the Maressellya Corp backs out of joining the Endeavor, they hear rumors of a defector in their ranks and put Cal on the case. What starts as a simple assignment becomes a fight for survival as he works to untangle a shadowy conspiracy that threatens the Apeilous. With the Fortuna’s backing, he and his crew rush to uncover the plot.
Warnings: Combat violence, “off-screen” sexual assault, large scale loss of life
Series Blurb:
In the distant star cluster M4, the vast civilization of the Apeilous barrels through a geopolitically tumultuous era. The independent northern state of Tressel is upset by territory grabs orchestrated by the largest corporations of the Apeilous through a humanitarian operation known as the Endeavor.
Vesta Fortuna, once a lowly private security contractor, rose to power to lead the largest and most controversial state of the Apeilous: The State of Vesta Fortuna. The SVF series explores the rise and fall of Vesta as a state-maker, a wife, a mother, and ultimately an authoritarian leader. Shorter companion novels detail the origins of the people who rise to support or oppose Vesta:
Aelia, a refugee turned warrior turned politician who will stop at nothing to bring down SVF.
Kiton, a bright young detective keen to support SVF by rooting out corruption in its ranks.
Valentia, Vesta’s daughter and heir to the Fortuna family.
Augustus, Vesta’s son and the unlikely heart and soul of SVF.
Non-Exclusive Excerpt:
Context:
Main character Vesta and her best friend Jak spend Act 3 forging ties between the Fortuna Corporation and the leadership of the independent planet Atayuma. Keen to make connections outside of the autocratic government, Vesta and Jak engage in a bit of old-fashioned diplomacy with group of mid-level army and navy personnel at the most popular bar in town. By this point in the story, Vesta and Jak have already made friends of several revolution-sympathizers in the armed forces.
Fun fact, the song in this excerpt was adapted with permission from the artist, Jason Webley!
Excerpt from Chapter 29, God Save the King:
Rau’s Taphouse Capital City, Atayuma (ISY-AT)
Three musicians sat in the corner of the room belting out drinking songs on a tuba, a drum set, and an accordion. The accordionist sang loudly, yet his voice barely rose over the short beats of the instruments and the din of the bar.
Vesta and Jak sat at a table for six, joined by three captains from the Royal Navy. The sixth member of their gathering was Captain Ernesto of the army division Aline had selected for the coming monsoon. While Vesta had spent the fore of the evening chatting and getting to know them, her efforts were stymied by a raucous sing-along song about storms and angels. Then the music struck a somber tone. The singer had his bandmates restart the intro, seemingly to get the crowd’s full attention. He sang the first verse softly.
“To the old, cracked screen,
Of my mother’s voice,
I still cry when I hear her sing.
The clock struck twelve,
The voice I love so well,
Was eaten up by the machine,
It was eaten up by the machine!” Vesta wondered what exactly he meant by the machine. Maybe he’s talking about the mines. Every voice in the bar joined in the second verse.
“When the glass is full,
Drink up! Drink up!
This maybe the last time
We see this cup.
If angels wanted us sober,
They’d knock the glass over,
So while it is full, we drink up!”
Just as Vesta started to tap her toes to the beat, the drum and tuba quieted, and the individual taps on the accordion’s keyboard became clear. The singer glanced at her with a kind smile and sang softly, twisting the next verse into something unknown to the crowd.
“A toast to our guests,
A girl from the stars,
I hear the king courts her,
But all of this cheer,
And maybe the beer,
Has brought her back here,
So let’s help her drink the place dry,
Yes, let’s drink the damn place dry!”
The crowd cheered, and many raised their glasses toward Vesta before downing them. Jak slapped her on the shoulder with a little too much force, and the singer repeated the verse. A few people joined in. Then the rest shouted along for the last three lines. The standard verses followed, and the discordant singing continued. Vesta could only sit and sway to the beat. Jak had other ideas, rising to his feet to join a line of people dancing forward and backward with their arms on the shoulders of those next to them. Ernesto joined too, shouting with the dance line that now snaked clear across the length of the bar.
The music crescendoed upward, and the singing grew louder for the last verse.
“…knock the glass over.”
“So while it is full drink up!” the crowd screamed. People clapped, some tossed coins and banknotes at the band members, and others spilled their drinks as they tried to toast with their neighbors at the bar. The joyous frenetic atmosphere remained past the end of the music, but there was a clear shift in tone and a color shift for Vesta’s deeper vision. A calm contentment filled the minds of the patrons closing out their tabs and shuffling out the front door. Many said goodbye to their friends for the night, clasping each other’s hands in front of their chests with a tense shake. Eager to return to the palace, Vesta cut off Jak’s animated conversation with one of the navy captains, handed the bartender enough money to cover the table, and started toward the door.
A crowd of eager-eyed Atayumans stood outside Rau’s. They all bubbled with joy as Vesta stepped onto the street. She took Jak’s hand, smiled, and moved through them, trying not to flinch as every person attempted to touch her shoulders. Countless glowing Atayuman eyes met hers before they reached the edge of the gathering.
A raindrop landed on her hand. She reached up and felt that the top of her headscarf was damp. She pulled her hood up and activated her wrist computer, nearly blinding herself with its white light. Navigating to the archaic weather app that the Atayumans operated, she looked at the radar map of the incoming weather formation. It was predicted to be light and move past the city shortly after sunrise.
“God damn, I love diplomacy,” Jak said, words soft despite their volume. “If only the [Vesta’s ethnicity] weren’t so uptight, we could’ve been doing this on [Vesta’s home planet]!”
“Jak, please,” she said sharply. With a bit of tugging and pushing, she guided him up the sweeping main road toward the palace gates. Some distance from the royal guards, Vesta tensed her jaw and held her breath to redden her face.
“Are you doing that thing?” Jak asked, taking a series of tiny steps to steady himself.
“Yes,” she huffed, shooting him a sideways look.
“Why don’t you just think about those photos you had me take—”
“Jak!” she said loudly, playfully pushing him, then grabbing his shirt to keep him from falling over.
“You know, the ones for Piata—”
“Yes, I know!” she said, feeling her cheeks burn. Embarrassed, she channeled her shy charisma and played a nervous flirty drunk. The four guards at the gate seemed none-the-wiser and cleared the way for them.
Walter Robinson is a speculative fiction author based in Western PA.
A classically trained engineer with experience in product development and advanced materials manufacturing, he has a passion for telling the human stories that are fundamental to the built world. When he isn’t writing or drawing, Walter spends his time designing and fabricating.
Ellie Thomas Romance 