Edward Hoornaert's Blog, page 20
March 14, 2020
Effing Feline sneezes at Covid 19 #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, am enjoying watching humans panic over catching the covid19 virus. Call me selfish (though of course I’m not), but if you ask “can I catch the virus from my cat?” you’re asking the wrong question.
What’s the right question? I’ll tell you after this word from our sponsor, TSGA (pronounced tuh sugga), aka The Solid Gold Aliens.
So far in The Solid Gold Aliens, we’ve been following Tresky Buffrum’s thread. Not today. We’re going to switch for a while to the POV of a policeman with problems. What those problems are should be somewhat apparent after today’s snippet.
“Stealin’ a private squinty at the beast, eh?”
Major MacKay Rullitch froze with a hand on the doorknob of the Golden Sloth exhibit room. Caught in the act, like a five-year-old stealing a cookie before dinner! He could’ve sworn the spaceport lobby was empty.
Without warning, Rullitch’s chagrin exploded into an angry clamor of voices that ricocheted through his skull and down his neck, filling his body with echoes that pounded the inside of his skin like prisoners trying to batter through the walls of a jail.
A subordinate is spying on you, one voice screamed, trying to discredit you.
A second voice whined, What you’re doing isn’t illegal. So you find the golden Sloth fascinating; so what?
Rullitch stared at his outstretched hand, surprised bumps weren’t visible where the voices struck from the inside.
Does the spy know you’ve come here every night after closing for the last week; know you gawk at the exhibit; pray to it, even?
Effing Feline here again. What is the right question? Obviously, it’s “can your cat catch covid19 from you?” That’s what you should be worried about.
The answer, by the way, seems to be “no“.
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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The Solid Gold Aliens
For 500 years, the aliens were no threat. But they were just waiting . . .
All Tresky Buffrum wants is a taste of adventure before resigning himself to the life of a shepherd. What he gets instead is a mysterious wife, fiercely chaste, who drags him to the Midas Crater, where hundreds of the planet’s intelligent natives have been transformed into gold.
Everyone on the caravan has an ulterior motive — except Tresky, who just wants to make love to his wife. Spies are everywhere. An Offworlder hero runs mad and murders people. A grim policewoman becomes attracted to Tresky while struggling to capture the psychotic sniper.
Observing this bizarre trek across the desert is an old, mute, lion-like alien. After befriending Tresky despite stern taboos, Virtrillica seeks a reason for her people to spare humans from a blast of extinction. Can the two of them save humankind and defeat the interplanetary conspirators who seek to destroy the Midas Crater and its sinister yet liberating secret?
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March 10, 2020
Wearing pajamas and a robe with Hello Kitty appliqués #mfrwhooks
In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Marianne met Quinn Lebatarde, wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform. For safety from a rebel attack, they’re in one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra Island. Charleyjohn is supposed to be her bodyguard.
When they hear furtive sounds like the footsteps of a huge rat she gets to see him in action. Last week’s hook ended with “The footsteps slowed as they drew close to the intersection. Charleyjohn flattened himself against the wall and waited, knife at the ready.”
Note: Klootch is a mildly unflattering Kwadran word for woman, roughly equivalent to broad.
Quinn waited, the stiletto solid and reassuring in his hand. At the same time, it felt ridiculous. His modus operandi was to run from danger. He could handle himself okay in a fight—he was still alive, after all—but he was a Superman at running. Pressing his back against the wall, he willed the soft footsteps to turn around and leave. But they kept coming.
Why the Hell’s ding-dongs was he doing this?
Because of the Harmon klootch, of course. Marianne Harmon’s heart-shaped face was cute, if you liked European types. Best of all, under the prince’s jacket she wore a gauzy ball gown designed to bug a guy’s eyes right out of his head. More than anything, he wanted to live long enough to see that dress without the jacket hiding it.
A ball gown was making him leap into combat like a mush-brained hero? The klootch’s first words had hit the bull’s-eye. He was an idiot.
The footsteps paused. Had the intruder heard something?
Quinn pounced around the corner while the pouncing was good. The intruder was turned away, so he caught the guy by surprise. Just like a real hero, Quinn grabbed him around the chest, trapping his arms, and put the knife to his throat.
Uh, no. Not his throat. Her throat.
It was a girl, maybe ten or eleven, with straight, black Kwadran hair that fell to her waist. She smelled of shampoo. He hoped the klootch couldn’t see him holding a knife on a little kid wearing pajamas and a robe with Hello Kitty appliqués.
He released the girl and opened his mouth to apologize and ask if he’d hurt her.
Kicking backward, the kid whacked his shin with the heel of her sturdy shoes. With a yip of outraged pain, Quinn dropped the knife and hopped backward on one foot.
He didn’t see her next kick, aimed at his crotch, until it was too late.
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
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Tucson Festival of Books cancelled
We are sad to announce that the 2020 Tucson Festival of Books has been canceled. We know the Festival brings so much joy to many in our community as well as visitors from around the country. Unfortunately, we find… https://t.co/Uc2g6H1WeN
— Tucson Festival of Books (@TFOB) March 9, 2020
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Tucson Festival of Books on the University of Arizona campus
The effects of the covid19 pandemic start to hit close to home. The third-largest book festival in the US hosting 100,000 visitors a year (and conveniently located just three miles from my home), has had so many authors back out because of travel and health concerns that it has been cancelled for the first time ever.
Even though I wasn’t going to be speaking at this year’s festival, that is sad news indeed.
March 8, 2020
Proof of God #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline,
this word from our sponsor, TSGA (pronounced tuh sugga), aka The Solid Gold Aliens.
So far in The Solid Gold Aliens, we’ve been following Tresky Buffrum’s thread. Not today. We’re going to switch for a while to the POV of a policeman with problems. What those problems are should be somewhat apparent after today’s snippet.
Other human worlds glittered with electric lights, but aside from the pathetic hamlet of Offie Town at the foot of this mesa, Jones slumbered in a candlelit stupor. The uncivilized heathens in the Rift were beneath the notice of a gentleman and an officer; rumor said they slept wherever they happened to be when darkness fell, be it road, pigsty, or outhouse. He believed it, too, although he’d never ventured off Heaven’s Table, which housed the planet’s lone spaceport.
3 Rullitch ran both hands over the stubble on his shaved head and turned to the huge golden statue for strength and salvation. It sat upright, with its stubby tail acting as the third leg of a stool. In the open palm of its top-left hand it held a four-winged bird in an attitude of . . . something Hunger . . . supplication . . . love for a pet?
2 One side of the statue had been peeled to reveal golden muscles and golden bones and a golden stomach filled with half-digested, golden food. This was no work of art, but a once-live creature.
1 Transformation into gold, the old alchemists’ dream, was impossible — yet it had happened.
2 How? Scientists speculated, but Rullitch knew how — it was a miracle, proof that God existed.
Effing Feline here again.
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
[image error]
The Solid Gold Aliens
For 500 years, the aliens were no threat. But they were just waiting . . .
All Tresky Buffrum wants is a taste of adventure before resigning himself to the life of a shepherd. What he gets instead is a mysterious wife, fiercely chaste, who drags him to the Midas Crater, where hundreds of the planet’s intelligent natives have been transformed into gold.
Everyone on the caravan has an ulterior motive — except Tresky, who just wants to make love to his wife. Spies are everywhere. An Offworlder hero runs mad and murders people. A grim policewoman becomes attracted to Tresky while struggling to capture the psychotic sniper.
Observing this bizarre trek across the desert is an old, mute, lion-like alien. After befriending Tresky despite stern taboos, Virtrillica seeks a reason for her people to spare humans from a blast of extinction. Can the two of them save humankind and defeat the interplanetary conspirators who seek to destroy the Midas Crater and its sinister yet liberating secret?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
March 7, 2020
Effing Feline aspires to sloth #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, wish I was a sloth. (Hey, you in the back row — I heard that crack about me sleeping all day like a lazy sloth! You’ll regret that!)
The sloths I refer to aren’t the large, slow-moving beasts from South America, but the large, slow-moving creatures from planet Jones. They’re most everything I aspire to, and I’ll tell you why after this word from our sponsor, TSGA (pronounced tuh sugga), aka The Solid Gold Aliens.
Naive shepherd Tresky Buffrum meets beautiful Ebbril and marries her, but she takes his money and abandons him at The Happy Louse Inn. He defies taboo and common sense by sitting with a sloth, the mute natives of the planet. NOBODY approaches a sloth. Except Tresky
Last week, we saw Ebbril’s unapologetic return. There was a hint of why she married him (“The moment we married, your money became mine, legally and morally”), but she informs him she’s leaving again — already. Tresky assumes he’s going with her.
“I’m going to the Midas Crater; you can come or not, as you wish.”
“The place where the golden Sloths were discovered? But it’s so far, and dangerous, too.”
When she didn’t react, he reached out defiantly and placed his hand on the Sloth’s fingers. And when he leaned back and rested his cheek against the Sloth’s head, Ebbril’s eyes went wide. Market Square erupted in gasps and cheers and coins flew — half-silvers and one heavy copper pelted his head and littered his trousers, though most fell to the ground.
Ebbril claimed to be ethical, and he had to believe her because she was his wife, but her moral code mystified him. By his code, however, letting his bride take a long, treacherous journey alone would be wrong.
“I wanted to see the wide world, so I’ll go with you.” He waved his hand grandly, as though the idea had been his all along; “To the Midas Crater!”
Effing Feline here again. Here’s why I admire these sloths:
They’re sentient and very intelligent, as shown by the fact that they do little work. That’s not laziness, that’s smarts!
They’re devious. People who mess with them mysteriously vanish in the middle of the night. Yeah!
They’re tough. Nobody messes with a Sloth. Nobody!
They read people’s minds. If you’ve ever wondered why your cat stares at you, here’s your answer!
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
[image error]
The Solid Gold Aliens
For 500 years, the aliens were no threat. But they were just waiting . . .
All Tresky Buffrum wants is a taste of adventure before resigning himself to the life of a shepherd. What he gets instead is a mysterious wife, fiercely chaste, who drags him to the Midas Crater, where hundreds of the planet’s intelligent natives have been transformed into gold.
Everyone on the caravan has an ulterior motive — except Tresky, who just wants to make love to his wife. Spies are everywhere. An Offworlder hero runs mad and murders people. A grim policewoman becomes attracted to Tresky while struggling to capture the psychotic sniper.
Observing this bizarre trek across the desert is an old, mute, lion-like alien. After befriending Tresky despite stern taboos, Virtrillica seeks a reason for her people to spare humans from a blast of extinction. Can the two of them save humankind and defeat the interplanetary conspirators who seek to destroy the Midas Crater and its sinister yet liberating secret?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
March 2, 2020
Moving in utter silence #mfrwhooks
In last week’s snippet from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Marianne met Quinn Lebatarde, wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform. For safety from a rebel attack, they’re in one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra Island. Charleyjohn is supposed to be her bodyguard. Here she begins to see him in action.
“Reese,” she began, “Prince Eaglesbrood, I mean, said I should trust you to protect me from whatever’s going on. He ordered me to obey you, if you can believe that.”
“Obey me? Now that’s interesting.”
“Not very. At his best, Reese has a commanding personality, but at his worst he’s just bossy, you know? But you do know him, of course, and I’ll bet he’s given you plenty of orders.” She took a deep breath and tried to rein in the alcohol that caused her to talk so much. “I’m rattling on and on, aren’t I? Sorry about that, but after the bomb blast—speaking of which, what’s the latest you’ve heard about it?”
Instead of answering, Charleyjohn thrust her behind him. “Get down!”
When she didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed her around the waist and plopped her down on her bottom. He was stronger than he looked.
“Wait here.” He did something to make the switchblade appear in his hand and then darted in a silent crouch toward the tunnel’s three-way intersection.
Only then did Marianne hear the furtive sounds, like the footsteps of a huge rat. Charleyjohn crouched deeper and edged forward, moving in utter silence. The footsteps slowed as they drew close to the intersection. Charleyjohn flattened himself against the wall and waited, knife at the ready.
‘Obey him?’ Interesting orders, considering Quinn’s a con man, not Captain Charleyjohn . . .
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
[image error]
Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
February 29, 2020
Effing Feline declares war #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, am furious. And determined. Last week Lisabet — whom I thought a friend because she has featured me on her website — rubbed my nose in the fact that I’ve never caught a mouse.
In my defense, Mrs Valentine is too good a housekeeper to ever allow mice in her home, and since I’m a house cat, that kinda limits my opportunities. But this means war — I’m gonna get me a mouse or die trying!
But first, a word from our sponsor, The Solid Gold Aliens. Naive shepherd Tresky Buffrum meets beautiful Ebbril and marries her the very next day. But she takes his money and abandons him at The Happy Louse Inn. He waits all day on a slotporch, in case she returns — and to his surprise, she does. Instead of apologizing, though, she defends herself aggressively. Tresky’s last complaint was “But the Happy Louse,” he said, hating the whine in his voice but unable to help it.
“It was cheap and I need to watch my money.”
“Your money?”
“By the customs of my people, property is held in common by man and wife. The moment we married, your money became mine, legally and morally. And there’s not much left.”
“What? How can you have spent it all in one day? There was enough to live on for months!”
“But scarcely enough to get me where I’m going.”
This was happening too fast. He hadn’t adjusted to her return, yet she was already leaving? Gasparre women were domineering — they wore the skirts in the family — yet they were nothing compared to Ebbril. His head throbbed again. “Mind telling me where we’re going?”
Effing Feline here again. I’ve completed my preparations for mouse hunting. Think I’ll have any luck?
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Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
[image error]
The Solid Gold Aliens
For 500 years, the aliens were no threat. But they were just waiting . . .
All Tresky Buffrum wants is a taste of adventure before resigning himself to the life of a shepherd. What he gets instead is a mysterious wife, fiercely chaste, who drags him to the Midas Crater, where hundreds of the planet’s intelligent natives have been transformed into gold.
Everyone on the caravan has an ulterior motive — except Tresky, who just wants to make love to his wife. Spies are everywhere. An Offworlder hero runs mad and murders people. A grim policewoman becomes attracted to Tresky while struggling to capture the psychotic sniper.
Observing this bizarre trek across the desert is an old, mute, lion-like alien. After befriending Tresky despite stern taboos, Virtrillica seeks a reason for her people to spare humans from a blast of extinction. Can the two of them save humankind and defeat the interplanetary conspirators who seek to destroy the Midas Crater and its sinister yet liberating secret?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
February 25, 2020
My hot, sexy babe #mfrwhooks
In last week’s snippet from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Marianne met Quinn Lebatarde, wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform. For safety from a rebel attack, they’re in one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra Island. Charleyjohn is supposed to be her bodyguard.
Marianne is the sister of the Kwadran queen, who met the king while filming a TV show introducing to the world the newcomers — alien humans from an alternate earth.
Marianne had done dozens of TV interviews about Kwadra. She was the on-air spokesperson for a line of Kwadran hair-care products licensed to an American corporation. Her affair with Prince Reese had been trumpeted by both American tabloids and Kwadra’s professional gossips. But did anyone remember her? Nope. She was always Queen Elinor’s kid sister.
“Wow,” Charleyjohn said. “I never thought I’d meet Harmon’s sister.”
Against her will, Marianne smiled. No matter how tired she was of being overshadowed, no one had ever had a better big sister. In addition to making first alien contact, Ell had filmed a TV show with Tro during their three weeks quarantined together. Alien Contact for Idiots, as Ell sarcastically called it, had averted war by showing the world that the alien invaders were civilized humans worthy of a good woman’s love.
“You’re a Harmon,” he gushed. “Hey, you know my first name?”
Marianne blinked. “Well, gee, let me guess. Rumpelstiltskin?”
His answering laugh was distinctive, like the rumbling of a race car zooming toward the checkered flag. “It’s Maquinna. Quinn for short. Captain Quinn Charleyjohn at your service, mah botay klootch.”
Marianne stiffened. His last phrase meant my beautiful young woman, but with connotations of my hot, sexy babe. She answered him with an insult of her own, in Shanoog. “And I am at yours, mah cultus grosyah meck.”
Instead of being offended, he gave another fast, deep laugh as he raised his arm for a handshake.
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
[image error]
Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
February 22, 2020
Effing Feline leaves a tip #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, have spent the last month trying to become independent of humans by learning how to open cat food cans. I’ve decided there’s an easier way, though — Let Ed open the cans, fill my bowl, and clean the bowl when I’m done.
What’s that you say? That’s what I was doing before?
There’s a difference! Now I’ll accept the food like a proper cat — as though it’s my due and Ed is nothing more than hired help. To prove my point, I’ll even leave him a tip. Any suggestions how much I should leave?
Now a word from our sponsor, The Solid Gold Aliens. Naive shepherd Tresky Buffrum meets beautiful Ebbril and marries her the very next day. But she takes his money and abandons him at The Happy Louse Inn. He waits all day on a slotporch, in case she returns — and to his surprise, she does. Instead of apologizing, though, she defends herself aggressively.
“Let me tell you something about me, Tresky Buffrum. I’m a very moral person, possibly the most righteous person you’ve ever met, and I have overwhelming reasons for what I do — better reasons than you can imagine or even understand. It was necessary to leave you alone this morning, but I can’t, and won’t, explain myself.”
“But, Ebbril –”
“I won’t explain further.”
“But –”
“No ‘buts,’ Tresky.”
He fumed, torn between wanting to quarrel and wanting to believe her proud declaration. It was hard, though, to imagine anyone more righteous than his mother, a respected rancher and matriarch who was too honorable to get someone drunk, rob him, and abandon him.
“But the Happy Louse,” Tresky said, hating the whine in his voice but unable to help it.
[image error]Effing Feline here again. I’ve decided on the tip I’ll leave. After each meal, I shall leave Ed . . .
A hair ball. Perfect, no?
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
[image error]
The Solid Gold Aliens
For 500 years, the aliens were no threat. But they were just waiting . . .
All Tresky Buffrum wants is a taste of adventure before resigning himself to the life of a shepherd. What he gets instead is a mysterious wife, fiercely chaste, who drags him to the Midas Crater, where hundreds of the planet’s intelligent natives have been transformed into gold.
Everyone on the caravan has an ulterior motive — except Tresky, who just wants to make love to his wife. Spies are everywhere. An Offworlder hero runs mad and murders people. A grim policewoman becomes attracted to Tresky while struggling to capture the psychotic sniper.
Observing this bizarre trek across the desert is an old, mute, lion-like alien. After befriending Tresky despite stern taboos, Virtrillica seeks a reason for her people to spare humans from a blast of extinction. Can the two of them save humankind and defeat the interplanetary conspirators who seek to destroy the Midas Crater and its sinister yet liberating secret?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
February 18, 2020
TV shows don’t have sisters #mfrwhooks
In last week’s snippet from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Marianne met Quinn Lebatarde, wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform. For safety from a rebel attack, they’re in one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra Island. Charleyjohn is supposed to be her bodyguard.
Marianne is the sister of the Kwadran queen, who met the king while filming a TV show introducing to the world the newcomers — alien humans from an alternate earth. The show was called Alien Contact for Idiots (book one in the eponymous series).
“You are Captain Charleyjohn, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, sure, of course I are. Read nametag, eh? Who are you?”
Having a sister in the Kwadran royal family meant Marianne knew Shanoog. The language was based on the old Chinook trade jargon used by natives and Europeans in the Pacific Northwest, with generous borrowings from French and Spanish. Her mediocre Shanoog was better than Captain Charleyjohn’s English, so she switched languages.
“Didn’t they tell you?”
“They? Who’s they?” His eyes shifted from side to side. “And where are they?”
A shiver ran through her. The rocks overhead seemed to press on her shoulders. If her protector was as unprofessional as he appeared, who would take care of her in this scary underworld?
“Oh yeah, you’re wearing the prince’s jacket,” Charleyjohn said in Shanoog. “Are you the klootch he took up to his room for some…?”
Although he didn’t finish the insinuation, Marianne kept her temper with an effort.
Charleyjohn looked her over from toes to nose. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Which one?”
“Huh?”
She rolled her eyes. One of them had to act like an intelligent, civilized adult, so she kept her voice level. “My name is Marianne Harmon.”
“Yo, I’m… Wait a minute. Harmon?”
Marianne braced herself.
“The sister of Alien Contact for Idiots?”
“Television shows don’t have sisters. But yes, I’m Ell Harmon’s sister.”
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
[image error]
Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
![[image error]](https://eahoornaert.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/solid-gold-aliens-2019g_600x900-2.jpg){kind=link}