Tracy Cooper-Posey's Blog, page 10
July 16, 2023
Good Faith and Filthy Lucre
I mentioned this post in yesterday’s BookFunnel email, while telling everyone about the deal for Promissory Note, this week.
Actually, the original version of this post ran in another BookFunnel email, this time last year.
But it’s interesting (to geeky me, at least!), so I thought I’d post it for everyone to see.
Today in 1661, the first European banknotes–that is, paper money–were issued by the Swiss bank, Stockholm Banco.
Wikipedia reported this event as the first banknotes in use, period. Only the Chinese introduced paper money–that is, Promissory Notes–way back in the 11th century, which Wikipedia also faithfully reports. It pays to research well! 
From the beginning of history, civilizations had used coins as a medium of exchange. It was a reflection of growing financial sophistication that bank notes were created in the 17th century.
Bank notes are a form of promissory note: The bank promises that if you present that note to them, they will exchange it for the equivalent value in gold. Honest banks would not issue more notes than they had gold to exchange for them.
If a bank puts out more notes than they have gold in reserve for, it can stimulate inflation.
These days, the direct relationship between bank notes and gold has fallen away. That makes our currencies “fiat” money — it’s money based on nothing but the good faith of the society that uses it that the value will hold.
That good faith can actually be measured indirectly. When I was travelling around Europe (well before the EU was formed), I found that I could use British Sterling, and US currency instead of exchanging for local currency at a bank or exchange service. The exchange rate sucked, but the merchants were willing to take the foreign “bank notes” (which they still are) because they knew they would hold their value. But they wouldn’t take my native Australian dollars.
This is the reasoning that underpins most of the non-romance storyline in Promissory Note. (Gee, wonder where I got the book title from?)
Tracy
July 15, 2023
A Helluva Deal and a Don’t Miss This last chance, and One More Vital Piece of News
I have two deals to tell you about today. I prefer to keep a post at just one item but there’s so much going on at the moment, and these are both time-sensitive. The third item is one you’ll appreciate, I suspect.
Let’s get on with it.
40% off Promissory Note
Another big deal of the week for you. Last time, I offered a book set in Canada, as it was Canada Day. Today I’m offering Promissory Note because, well, this is completely backwards, but I have a post running tomorrow that talks about promissory notes and an anniversary to do with money. So I thought it would be cute to offer Promissory Note today.
Make sense to you? Oh, good!
Anyway, Promissory Note is the third book in The Endurance science fiction romance series. It starts off with the heroine, Laura, finding out that a promissory note she had given to a market stall owner in exchange for…well, something else, has been sold to someone else entirely. A very unpleasant someone. The hero.
The whole romance is built around the use of money, how currency works, and most importantly, why. (Bet you didn’t think money would make a good romance, huh?)
Here’s a for-instance: Did you know that the British pound note once had the instruction upon it that if you present the pound note to the bank, the bank would give you a pound of gold in return? The note itself was a promise. In other words, a promissory note.
But times have moved on. A pound no longer buys you anything close to a pound of gold. (I wish!) Inflation has seen to that. You won’t find the promise written on the notes anymore, either. But the implied promise is there–that the note you hold will buy you the equivalent in goods and services. It’s your confidence in that purchasing power, and the confidence of everyone in your society, that allows fiat money (money not backed by gold, the way it once was) to be used as a medium of exchange.
Once that confidence is broken, once members of society no longer have confidence that they can use that currency to buy things, society can very swiftly collapse. The economy implodes, and it can get very nasty after that.
Promissory Note starts off at the other end of the process; the setting up of currency and trying to instill confidence in the people aboard the Endurance that they can use the money to buy things, instead of using barter and (unofficial) promissory notes.
Tomorrow’s post will have a bit more about that, too.
Check out the blurb for Promissory Note here (because this post has already gone on long enough).
To buy Promissory Note at 40% off, copy this code:
B7PQXRYJThen click over to the book on SRP here to buy it.
Coupon is valid until end of day MDT, this Friday, July 21st, and only on Stories Rule Press.
PS: Book 1 of the series is free. 
This one caught me by surprise because I’d forgotten something. I put up Adelaide Becket’s Adventures onto Stories Rule Press for pre-order, announced it here, then set about putting it up for pre-order on all the other retail sites (which is not a short, quick task!).
And ran smack bang into Amazon’s restrictive pricing policies. That was the thing I’d forgotten.
I seethed for a while. Amazon is forcing my hand, making it horribly expensive to price the collection at a reasonable price. And, unfortunately, if I don’t use the same price everywhere else, Amazon will price match, and take the difference in royalties out of my pocket.
So.
I can risk holding the old price on Stories Rule Press for a few days, then I will have to raise it. At the moment, the set is $14.99 USD. At the end of the week, it will go up to $19.99.
This is a last-chance warning to grab the set at the old price.
You can find the series information here.
You can pick up the seven-story Adelaide Becket’s Adventures collection here on Stories Rule Press.
No coupon needed–it’s still at the old price…for now.
Faster, Smoother Shopping on Stories Rule Press
This is the news item I hope you find useful. I know I’m thrilled about it.
I’ve been using the same site host to host all my sites, including Stories Rule Press, for over ten years.
But in the last year or so, the responsiveness of the sites has been diminishing. And in the last few months, Stories Rule Press in particular was constantly crashing. If two people tried to buy books at the same time, the whole site went down.
Of course I constantly harangued my site host and demanded they fix it.
Then a couple of weeks ago, it got so bad that when I tried to open a page to edit it (on the back side of the site), it took over TWO MINUTES to open. If it opened at all. I was just as likely to get a 503 error code.
My site host had the balls to tell me there was nothing wrong, that they couldn’t re-create the error (i.e., it was all my fault).
I’d been quietly shopping around for potential new site hosts for a few weeks, because I had an uneasy feeling how this was going to go. So when it became really bad, and when customers (you guys) started to notice, I acted.
After a week or more of long days, longer nights and a new and scary credit card balance, Stories Rule Press is now with a site host who specializes in WooCommerce e-stores.
And it is so fast!!
Even if you don’t want to actually buy something, check out the store and the speed by browsing around: https://StoriesRulePress.com. It’s the same address and if you’ve bookmarked it, your bookmarks will continue to work. It’s where the site is hosted that has changed…and that makes all the difference.
Addendum: Now I’ve dealt with the major headache, I’ve noticed that now my author sites are starting to misbehave in the same way. They don’t have ecommerce stores in them, so the load is a bit lighter. But……I might have to find a new home for them, too.
It’ll have to wait a bit. The company credit card has to recover from its heart attack, first.
Tracy
July 13, 2023
Some Science Fiction Romance at a Really Good Price
Two weeks from now, I’ll be releasing the second Endurance boxed set — surprise! I haven’t had a chance to talk about it until now.
If you like science fiction romance, or you’re a fan of the Endurance series (as many of your emails and messages asking about the next book always assure me you are), this is a chance to pick up three of the main novels and one of the novellas in the series as a price that is less than you’d pay for all the books bought individually.
So if you’re also a fan of boxed sets, this is your deal.
Because we’re two weeks out, this is when I would normally run the first chapter in the upcoming release. That would be chapter One of Xenogenesis.
But there’s a nice little bonus after the chapter, so keep reading….
Chapter OneThe short night had ended when Pasi found Rex at the side of the pool and told him in a voice that wouldn’t reach any of the guests that there was a call for him and the caller was refusing to be put through to a virtual screen.
Rex handed Pasi the book he had been reading. “Where is the call now?” The demand for security and privacy wasn’t unusual. Some of the people he dealt with preferred to keep their business affairs off the Forum and out of general gossip.
“In your office, sir.”
“Do you know who it is?” Everyone who was paranoid enough to insist upon privacy and who might have reason to call Rex was already here, somewhere in his house.
Pasi shook his head, his dark eyes troubled.
Rex patted his arm. “It’s fine, Pasi.” He looked around the courtyard garden. The growing daylight was revealing the aftermath of a night of indulgence. There were people asleep or passed out on the loungers around the pool and two more drifting on floating loungers in the water, their feet wet, their eyes closed. One—Rex thought his name was Evram—was snoring musically, his glass of whatever he had been drinking still clutched in his hand.
From somewhere inside the house, Rex could hear music. Now he was consciously listening to it, he had the sensation it wasn’t the first time the track had played in the last hour or so. Someone had put their own playlist on cycle and left it running. At least the jazz was low-key.
“It might be time for breakfast,” Rex suggested.
“Cook is already working on that, sir,” Pasi told him. “Along with a variety of morning-after preparations.” He glanced around the garden himself. “A large number of garments have been strewn across the house. I gathered them in the front foyer for guests to sort out as they leave.”
“You might also have a pile of disposable robes on hand, just in case,” Rex suggested. “What clothing is left behind can be recycled.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rex walked into the house. All the walls had been pushed aside for the evening’s party. Rex had paid the environmental engineers who controlled the climate in the Palatine to set up sultry weather for the night, even though the Palatine was currently moving through its winter cycle. The humid evening had encouraged most of the guests to dive into the pool at least once during the night. Some had removed their clothes. Some hadn’t. Everyone appeared to have had a good time, either way. It had certainly sounded as if they had. The laughter, the music, the chatter, had all filtered through to his office where Rex had been reading, a pleasant backdrop to the peace in the room.
The lounge pit had its share of occupants, too. One of them was Barny. He was snuggled up against the pretty strawberry blond whom Rex had noticed very early in the evening, looking pouty and reserved.
Rex diverted to the lounge pit, crouched down at the edge and bent farther to shake Barny awake. Barny stirred and blinked. “Dad?”
“Any idea where Julian is?”
Barny frowned. “I think…upstairs.” The blonde stirred sleepily and nuzzled his chest and Barny’s frown deepened as he looked at the top of her head, almost as if he was just realizing she was in his arms.
“In his room?” Rex clarified.
“He has company.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Rex rose to his feet once more.
Barny tried to sit up. The blonde was a dead weight, holding him down. “Do you need something?”
“I thought you might want some breakfast before the stampede to the kitchen begins.”
“Hell, yes.” He shook the blonde. “I’ll dig Julian up, too.”
Rex nodded, satisfied. He headed for his office. As he passed the private sitting room next to his office, he halted and backed up a few steps to look inside. Something odd had caught his eye as he had passed by.
Now he could see what it was that had snagged his attention. There was a tight ball of bright orange übersilk on the floor, huddled in the angle created by the wall and the big terracotta tub holding the miniature cocoa bush.
Michaela had been wearing that vibrant color last night. He had seen it fluttering here and there when he had passed through the house, greeting guests and lingering for short conversations when pressed into it.
He had also heard her laughter, too, somewhere over where the tankball game had been running in 3D, with everyone gathered around the scaled images, swearing and groaning as the game progressed. When first blood showed, barely ten minutes into the game, it had been Michaela’s laughter that had underlined the moment.
Rex drew closer to the orange übersilk. The garment she had been wearing had been a throwback to ancient Terra, with loose, flowing drapes that outlined her still slender figure. Now, it lay in motionless heaps…and Michaela was still in it. She was beneath the silk, as if she had burrowed under it. The belt around her waist had gone. She had pulled up the loose folds of the silk to hide her face and arms. She was curled up into a tight ball beneath it.
Rex bent and pulled the übersilk away from her face and rested his fingers against her neck. The pulse was erratic, yet it was there. Her face, normally held in stiff lines of suspicion, especially when talking to him, looked very childish now.
He lifted her up and put her on the sofa. She weighed next to nothing and as soon as he let her go, she tightened up into another ball, her knees to her chest, her face hidden by her knees. She wasn’t completely unconscious, then. She was nowhere close to being sober, either.
Rex looked around the room, wondering why he was bothering to care. He spotted the crystal dish that didn’t belong on the sideboard and went over to it. Something white and powdery coated the bottom of it. There were red fragments in it, too. He had no idea what it was. Michaela’s definition of what constituted a good time had shifted over the years. Since Julian and Barny had emerged two years ago, the mechanisms for enjoyment had become more extreme.
He left her there. Pasi would take care of putting her to bed and having someone watch her. He was practiced at it.
Rex went to his office. The fixed screen showed the caller still patiently waiting for him. The man was as much a stranger as anyone on the Endurance could be. He had bags under his eyes and a thin face and jowls. His sandy hair was shaggy and rumpled. He looked overworked and underfed. Rex might have seen his face before, although he was not someone Rex knew either officially or unofficially.
“I apologize for the delay,” Rex told him.
“Rex Julyan?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
“Your man…Pasi?” The man grimaced. “He said you might take a moment to get here. Unfortunately, this is not something I could leave for a more convenient time.”
“And you are…?”
“Burchard Bacchus. Head of the civil guard.”
Bacchus was a civil servant. No wonder they had not met before.
“Did someone complain about the noise? Or the heat?” Rex would have been surprised if they had. Everyone who lived within a kilometer of the house was here, somewhere.
Bacchus shook his head. “I saw the lights from your house as I passed over a couple of hours ago. There was no noise I could hear. That’s not why I’m calling.”
“You’re in the Palatine?”
“I’m at the white house,” Bacchus said.
The white house was on the other side of the parkland belt from here. Rex knew the place. It was one of the oldest houses in the Palatine and everyone seemed to have heard of it, even if they had never seen it before. People on the other side of the parkland liked their privacy, including Nerida Giles, who was the current owner of the house.
Rex’s gut tightened. When had he last spoken with her? It had been years. More years than he cared to admit to.
“You’re at Nerida’s house?” Rex asked Bacchus. “Is Nerida all right? Has something happened?”
Bacchus looked even more grim than before. His face, with the jowls and bags under his eyes, had already looked sad. Now his expression was alarming.
“No, I’m afraid Miss Giles is very much not all right,” Bacchus said and sighed. “She is dead, Mr. Julyan.”
Rex drew in a breath, riding out the shock. “She’s younger than me!” He was fifty-five, not even middle-aged yet. Then he put it together. “Why is the civil guard attending a medical matter?” he demanded of Bacchus. “Her medic should be there.”
“Oh, he is,” Bacchus said quickly. “He called us in because of what he discovered. She left a note, Mr. Julyan. It was addressed to you.”
Rex sank down onto the chair. His heart squeezed. “Then…?”
“Yes.” Bacchus sighed. “It appears she killed herself.”
* * * * *
Even though Belen got to the administrative wing early, Vilma and Pelagius were already waiting for her, sitting on the small chairs outside her office with pensive expressions. Belen smiled to herself. She could have predicted they would be here.
Both of them jumped to their feet when she walked up to her door and unlocked it.
Vilma, who was the administrative lead for the Medical Institute, lifted the board in her hand. “One hundred expressions of support!” Her wiry hair was jutting out from her head, waving at her movements. Even her pale eyes seemed to be bulging slightly.
“And good morning to you, too,” Belen told her and went into her office. She didn’t invite them in. They would follow her in, anyway.
Vilma waved the board again. “One hundred is well over a significant majority, Belen. One hundred is sixty-seven percent of all medical personal on the ship. Nearly seventy percent of medics are insisting upon a raise…and not just a simple raise.” This issue of pay scales had been Vilma’s pet project for nearly a year now. Belen had finally relented enough to agree to a straw poll of medics, to determine the majority opinion on the matter. Vilma had probably spent all night collating the results.
“They want salaries that reflect the value of the role they play on the Endurance,” Vilma added. She sounded ferociously happy about it, too. If the medical profession got the raise they wanted, then Vilma would get the same raise. As much as Vilma would protest, Belen knew that had figured into her championship of the medics’ entreaties for more money.
Belen’s office didn’t have a desk or visitor chairs. There was the single high stool she used when she was tired and she sank onto it now with a silent sigh. It was barely eight in the morning and already she felt drained. “The work we do reflects the value of our role,” she said. “Treating the sick, making them well, that is our reward.”
Vilma nodded. “Exactly,” she said fiercely, her hair waving forward with the quick nod she made. “Without us, the population of the Endurance would not enjoy the good health and the pleasure a life free of illness brings them.”
“Because the environmental engineers who supply the breathable atmosphere and the mechanical engineers who keep the ship together and flying have nothing to do with that pleasant lifestyle at all,” Belen said dryly. “To say nothing of the tank ball players who provide entertainment, the civil guards who maintain the law and…oh, about twenty other essential professions we couldn’t live without.”
Vilma’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. “Yes, but…medics are even more important than mechanical engineers. We should be paid in a way that reflects our standing in the community.”
“You get paid already,” Belen pointed out, struggling to keep her tone civil. These arguments about money reflecting perceived value always bothered her for reasons she had never been able to fathom.
“It’s not enough,” Vilma shot back stoutly.
“Not enough? You don’t have money for food?” Belen asked. “No, wait, you get basic rations just as all of us do. You get a roof over your head. What do you not have enough money to buy? I’m curious.”
Vilma’s mouth opened.
Belen glanced at Pelagius. So far, he had said nothing, leaving Vilma to argue by herself. His round face looked troubled.
“You’re head of medical services coordination,” Belen told him. “You feel as Vilma does about this?”
Pelagius looked at Vilma. His cheeks colored. “I…her argument has some merit.”
Belen turned back to Vilma. “The medics on this ship are considered to be an essential service. Therefore, we all are paid over and above the standard rations, as a reward for choosing to serve the ship. That’s why you live in the Palatine, Vilma. That’s why Pelagius can put on those expensive dinner parties of his every month. To ask for even more is offensive.”
Vilma looked taken aback. “But…but all the other essential services get paid more, too.”
“As they should,” Belen said flatly.
“I think, what Vilma is trying to say,” Pelagius said in his high, tight voice, “is that we train longer and the demands of our profession are more rigorous than, say, that of mechanical engineers. Anyone can be a mechanical engineer. Not everyone can be a medic.”
“And not everyone is a medic.” Belen got to her feet. “When a candidate is accepted for medical training, that is what distinguishes them within the community. Not some ephemeral credit value that will mean nothing next year. The work we do is the reward…or it should be. If any medics feel their work is no longer rewarding, they’re free to move on to another profession at any time.” Belen injected snap into her voice.
Vilma looked as if she wanted to protest, although they had been working together for a long time and she knew the tone Belen had used was her don’t-push-me voice.
Belen relented. Just a little. “What in the world would you do with even more money, anyway, Vilma? Use your public spreadsheet as wall art?”
“Money is money,” Vilma said stiffly. “That’s the point. I can use excess money to buy anything I want.”
“And what are you going to do with all the pretty things you buy? Buy a bigger house to display them all? Where does it end?” Belen shook her head. “I don’t want to hear another word about pay raises, Vilma. Go back to your committees and tell them that. I will not present this to the Captain. I will not entertain any notion of money being in any way a reward or reflection of our status on the Endurance. The concept is utterly revolting.”
Vilma let the board hang at her side, clamped between her fingers. “Then, if there was a reason for a raise other than as a reward or marker of status, you would consider that?”
The woman was relentless. Belen admired her for that. She was a very good administrative director for the Institute, although sometimes her thinking was channeled.
Belen gave her a small smile. “You’re welcome to do more research and see if there is a better reason out there and I will listen if you find it. I doubt you will. Money is purely a medium of exchange. To add anything else to its meaning is asking for trouble.”
Vilma nodded. She was no fool. She understood the implications as thoroughly as Belen did. She just didn’t like it. If she followed her usual form, then she would try to get in the last word now. Belen waited.
“If money is really just a medium of exchange,” Vilma said, “then why do those who chose not to serve the ship in an essential profession end up with so much more than we do? They hoard their things. They flaunt them.” The resentment in her voice and her eyes was strong.
Belen had no answer for her, not for that question. It was one that had bothered her as much as it bothered Vilma. She looked at Pelagius. His expression was just as unhappy.
“If I knew the answer, Vilma,” Belen told her, “then they would make me captain.”
Pelagius snorted. “Captain Antoni Tyler has more than anyone else on the ship and he’s an essential service, too.” Now the bitterness was unmistakable.
“Pelagius,” Vilma said, horrified.
Then Pelagius remembered who Belen was. He gasped and put his hands to his cheeks. “Oh my…I…I must apologize, Belen. I had no intention of insulting your partner.”
“That’s quite alright,” Belen assured him. “Besides, you’re wrong. Tony is not the richest man on the ship. Not even close.” She knew those who were counted among the richest. She rubbed shoulders with them every time there was an official function and every time Tony socialized. They were his cronies, although even when she was feeling charitable she would still be hard pushed to describe them as his friends.
Vilma stepped back, disassociating herself from Pelagius and his faux pas. “Well, I must get on with things. If you will excuse me?”
Belen nodded and Vilma hurried away, relief making her shoulders droop.
Pelagius was still beet red and sweating.
“Really, it’s fine,” Belen assured him.
He nodded. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“You’re not here about the raises?” Belen asked.
“Oh, more money would always be useful,” Pelagius said, “Only, that’s my personal opinion. I don’t think higher salaries would in any way enhance our professional standing on the ship. In fact, it might even backfire.”
“By putting us on the same level as the Captain and his friends?” Belen asked.
Pelagius’ face bloomed again. “I suppose…yes.”
“That’s an argument I will use next time Vilma raises this, as she will.” Belen dismissed the subject with a wave of her hand. “What can I do for you, Pelagius?”
“Actually, it’s…delicate.”
“More delicate than insulting your boss’ partner?”
However, Pelagius had already mentally shifted ground and this time he barely blinked. “I received a question from Ove Tenyson, who is in the Palatine right now, attending a…well, that’s why he contacted me. He was looking for directions on how to handle…a suicide.”
“Suicide?” Belen could feel her brows lifting high. “Has there ever been a suicide? Ever?”
Pelagius nodded. “I looked it up. Nearly two hundred years ago. Willard Bordon.”
Belen frowned. “The first person to be shunned.”
“That was before we properly understood how extreme the impact of shunning is upon a subject. Sentences are much shorter now. Bordon survived four years of shunning before he deliberately walked into a gamma radiation field and sat there until he died, two hours later.”
Belen shuddered. “And now there is a second suicide. Did you tell Tenyson to call in the civil guards?”
Pelagius nodded. His face worked.
“What is it?” Belen pressed him.
“The suicide. It was Nerida Giles, the former tankball topman.”
Belen found herself sitting back on the stool, with no clear idea how she had got there. “Nerida…”
Pelagius was studying her. He was an intelligent man, which his fussy manners and rotund figure usually disguised. “Nerida Giles was the first pro Rex Julyan put under contract.”
Belen breathed, forcing herself not to jump at the mention of his name. “I believe so.” Her voice emerged evenly, only the volume wasn’t there.
“Rex Julyan is a friend of yours, isn’t he?” Pelagius asked. Even the way he spoke Rex’s name was irritating. He said it deliberately, as if he was savoring every syllable. The admiration in his tone was undisguised.
Belen knew why. Tony had cronies and among them were some of the richest and most influential people on the ship. Business people, entrepreneurs and hard-nosed business owners. Rex Julyan put all of them to shame. Rex wasn’t a part of Tony’s circle of associates, though. He was too successful to slum among the rich.
Belen shook her head. “Rex Julyan doesn’t have friends. He has assets and I’m not one of them. I’m just a poor medic.”
Which wasn’t the complete truth. She wasn’t poor and Rex was no longer a friend…or anything else, either. He had enough assets without her.
The second four science fiction romances in a unique series, collected together.XENOGENESIS
Rex has never been worthy of Belen’s love. Can he change that?
Life aboard the Endurance is disintegrating—unemployment, inflation, crime and destitution, all ignored by the super-rich, including Rex Julyan, the wildly successful and most hedonistic man on the ship. When Rex meets an old Artificial Intelligence called Emma, she tells him there may be a way to save the ship, but does he care enough to try? For the woman he once loved, Belen Tirrell, is now the partner of the ship’s Captain, Antonio Tyler. She left Rex to be with him, long ago. Nothing would win her back now…would it?
JUNKYARD HEROES
How does someone afraid of their own shadow become a hero and win love?
Pint-sized Noa Doria and her “loser” friends help a stranger in trouble—none other than Haydn Forney. Haydn is the son of the most hated man on the Endurance, Fornell Acardi, leader of the psychotic Caver movement. Strife follows Haydn everywhere.
EVANGELIYA
He must choose between the woman he loves and the child he has always wanted…
Liya and Gelin have worked for ten years to find a way to live together, despite few resources and less hope. Then Gelin learns he has been selected to become a parent…and the other parent is not Liya.
SKINWALKER’S BANE
They can’t stand each other.
Devin Bronson has climbed from an abject childhood, determined to reach the pinnacle of the Endurance: the Captain’s chair. Association with the wrong people could destroy her hopes.
Adam Wary is a typical skinwalker, living hard and fast, for life can be short. When his friend Lincoln dies and leaves a message for Adam to give to a woman called Devin, Adam tries to deliver, to Devin’s horror. Lincoln’s message threatens Devin’s career and pulls Adam into the dark underbelly of the Endurance in search of the truth.
These four titles are part of the science fiction romance series readers are calling gripping, superb and fantastic. Written by award-winning SFR author Tracy Cooper-Posey, it is set aboard the marathon-class vessel Endurance, a generation ship a thousand years from its destination. If you like the smart, romantic SF of authors like Linnea Sinclair and Anna Hackett, you will love the Endurance series.Dive into this thought-provoking new romance series today!
This book is part of The Endurance SFR series:
0.5 5,001
1.0 Greyson’s Doom
2.0 Yesterday’s Legacy
3.0 Promissory Note
3.1 Quiver and Crave
3.5 The Endurance Box One
4.0 Xenogenesis
5.0 Junkyard Heroes
5.1 Evangeliya
6.0 Skinwalker’s Bane
6.5: The Endurance Box Two
7.0 Mongrels United
…and more to come!
A Science Fiction Romance Novel.
If you like that sample, and you have not yet got into the series, you might like to know that Greyson’s Doom, the first book in the series, is free at any bookstore, including mine.
July 6, 2023
Do you read on a Kindle or use a Kindle reading app? You might be missing good stuff
This is a pretty bad image, but I had to hunt one down as I do not read on either a Kindle or a Kindle reading app. (I use Google Play Book’s reading app.)
The image shows what pops up when you reach the end of a book.
But did you know that this is not the end of the book?
Amazon have coded the Kindle and Kindle apps to look for typical markers for the end of a story. So if an author adds “The End”, or a horizontal divider, or a page break marker, Amazon jumps in there with the screen you see above, asking for a review, and also recommending books that are NOT those of the author you’ve just finished reading.
The problem with this practice is that there could be pages left in the book — pages that include information about the next book in the series, and a convenient link.
There might possibly be an excerpt from the next book, too — maybe even an entire chapter or two.
There will also be pages for dedications and acknowledgements, information about the author, and a list of other books they’ve written.
And if you’re particularly geeky about books and like reading the copyright page, you’ll frequently find it at the back of ebooks, not the front.
It’s also entirely possible that, especially these days, the author could have a coupon code for buying the next book directly from them, or they could (as I do for some series) give away the second book in exchange for your email address.
But you don’t get to see any of that once Amazon has hijacked the end of the book with their demand for reviews, ratings and exhortations that you buy those other books by different authors.
There is, however, a hack to get around Amazon’s end-stopper.
Simply hit the back button, or swipe down the screen to dismiss the dialogue box, and you can reach the end of the book…as the author intended.
July 1, 2023
A Canadian Romance for Canada Day
It’s Canada Day, sorry. (Eh!)
The original cover for Fatal Wild Child. Dar Albert, my cover artist, hand painted the heroine’s hair to make her a strawberry blonde….
I’ve written a few books set in Canada. Not nearly as many as are set everywhere but Canada, though. In fact, I’m in the middle of writing one set mostly in Canada right now. Kiss Across the Universe — which is blowing out my usual word count. It’s going to come in loooooong.
But I digress. One of the earliest books I’ve written, set in Canada, is Fatal Wild Child, which is part of the Romantic Thrillers collection.
I originally wrote the book intending to pitch it to Harlequin Suspense, but I seem to be categorically unable to write “to market” — to make a book conform with the tropes, the expected scenes, etc. My stories always take on a life of their own, once the characters start talking at me, instead of saying what I want them to say.
And category romances like Harlequin Suspense are charted out with mathematical precision. The meet-cute must start on page 2, there must be exactly 200 pages, the first kiss must be on page xx. Etc.
I don’t know for sure that these are the expectations. They’re just examples I made up. But the writing of category romances is a specialized art that includes structured requirements like these, and that I am completely unable to, well, conform to.
So Fatal Wild Child ended up as a stand-alone romantic suspense set in my home province of Alberta, which meant that any mainstream romance publisher would also be completely disinterested in it. Around that time, USA or “exotic” settings in Europe — as long as both hero and heroine were American — were the only romances the publishers would consider. And forget about making one of them famous; that was a huge no-no.
Of course, this was back in the day when Amazon’s Kindle wasn’t even a thought in an IT geek’s head (I have been publishing since 1999). Traditional, NY-based publishers were my only publishing option. I tried a couple of them and, as expected, was flatly turned down.
Fast forward to 2011, when indie publishing was four years old, and I switched over to 100% indie overnight.
The current cover of Fatal Wild Child. Often, I can’t advertise this book because of his bare chest and the “sexually suggestive” implications of them in a clinch. But I really like him, and I really like the cover, so for now, I’m sticking with it.
As soon as I realized the freedom and opportunity to chart my own course that came with indie publishing, I blew the dust off a lot of novels that were sitting around unpublished because New York had stringent ideas about what a romance should be.
Fatal Wild Child was the second indie title I published, in April 2011. It’s had a change of covers since then. The original cover is at the top of the post, and the current cover, which matches the rest of the Romantic Thrillers Collection, is here.
Today, and for the rest of the week, to mark Canada Day, I’m offering Fatal Wild Child at a 40% discount.
Here’s the coupon: 5W8HNYTC (Copy it before you head over to SRP!)
Valid until midnight, MDT, Friday July 7th, 2023.Coupon valid only at Stories Rule Press.You can use the coupon in conjunction with other discounts, coupons, and your reward points.Not all armor is visible. Can he win through hers?When Seth O’Connor pulls Gabrielle Sherborne out from under her wrecked car in the middle of an icy river high in the Canadian Rockies just before Christmas, he never thought someone might actually be gunning for the infamous wild child of the famous Hollywood director, Cameron MacKenzie Sherborne III, and the family that puts up with her antics.
Told by his superiors to insert himself into the Sherborne family and protect Gabrielle, Seth learns that the former film star is anything but a brat. She’s all woman, incredibly sexy and smart, with a vulnerability that eats right through the armor over his heart. That makes doing his job suddenly very tough for Captain Seth O’Connor, for the unfriendlies are closing in….
This story is part of the Romantic Thrillers Collection.
Dead Again
Deadweight (A free story on the author page)
Dead End (A free story available at the end of Deadweight)
Dead Drop
Dead Double
Fatal Wild Child
Terror Stash
Thrilling Affair (Boxed Set)
A Romantic Suspense Thriller Novel
Buy From Me @ SRP!Enjoy!
Tracy
June 29, 2023
Lady Adelaide, all in one volume
Can I tell you something awkward?
I’m not a fan of boxed sets. Oh, I don’t mind the price. If it’s a series I’m sucked into, getting all the books in the series at a discount is a great deal.
I just hate reading the boxed set all in one big file.
The geek in me gets frazzled because the progress bar never seems to move, and you can’t tell how far through this book you are.
And if I want to go back to the front matter, or on to the end matter (to check out what else the author has written), it can be a real pain trying to get back to where I left off reading.
Plus, quite often the boxed set cover isn’t very pretty at all, while the individual covers for the books are marvellous. So I miss out on the individual covers, when I buy the boxed set and have the ugly cover displaying on my reader, instead.
Grump, grump. Yeah, I’m that nerdy, sorry.
So it took me a long while to realize that most readers love and adore boxed sets. Just call me thick and hit me with a hammer. Eventually, I get it.
You’ve told me via emails and messages that you like boxed sets because (a) the price, (b) you don’t have to go searching for the individual books, (c) related to the previous point, you don’t have to find out what those individual books are, and in what order they should be read, because they just follow along behind each other. (d) you also don’t have to find the side stories, if the author has included them in the set (I do). And best of all, (e) boxed sets are made for binge reading. Finish the last book, flip the page and settle into the next one.
So I’ve been putting out a lot of boxed sets lately. (And, while I’m confessing, putting out boxed sets also means I’m releasing something, as my writing has suffered greatly while I deal with my cancer.)
Today’s release is one that I’ve personally been looking forward to. It’s the first seven stories in the Adelaide Becket historical suspense series.
I know some of you aren’t really thrilled about shorter reads like novellas and novelettes and that you avoid short stories altogether. As the first seven stories in the Adelaide Becket series are all novelettes, you might have been ducking reading them.
Put altogether into a boxed set, though, the novelettes collectively present an on-going story that is 74,000 words long. That’s a hefty novel’s worth.
There will be more stories in the Adelaide Becket series, but they will be novel length, as the series has grown too complicated to contain stories to a mere novelette length.
So this boxed set is a great, lengthy introduction to the ongoing series.
The first seven Lady Adelaide stories in one volume.As Europe draws toward war, an extraordinary woman steps into the arena. In Edwardian England, Lady Adelaide Azalea Margaret de Morville, Mrs. Hugh Becket, lately of the Cape Colony, was born the daughter of an Earl, but is now the widow of a commoner. She straddles two worlds, speaks fluent German, and can ride, hunt and shoot. Her talents draws the eye of spymaster William Melville, who recruits her to help him fight a shadow game with German agents both at home and aboard, as Europe heads toward an inevitable conflict…
A Historical Suspense Espionage Omnibus
The Adelaide Becket series.
1: The Requisite Courage
2: The Rosewater Debutante
3: The Unaccompanied Widow
4: The Lavender Semaphore
5: The Broadcloth Midnight
6: The Salinghall Error
7: The Indecent Agent
7.5: Adelaide Becket’s Adventures
…and more to come.
An Edwardian Suspense Espionage series
{Also see: Thrillers, Espionage, Historical, Novelettes}
As usual, if you buy directly from me at my Stories Rule Press bookstore, you can finagle a discount;
1) If you’ve never bought a book from SRP, you can find a 10% off discount coupon code on the front page of the site.
2) If you’re a repeat customer (hello! And thank you!), then you can use your reward points to earn a discount on the title.
Buy from Me @ SRP!
Monthly SRP Sale starts today — earn double your Reward Points
Today is the start of the four day SRP Monthly 20
This month’s sale is a little different. There’s no discount on the books themselves, but instead, you earn double the reward points for each sale.
The points can then be used to give yourself a discount at checkout. If you have enough points, you can earn entire free books.
Even if you’ve shopped on SRP before, you may not realize that you get 1,000 points just for setting up an account on SRP. That will get you instant discounts, for doing nothing but register on the site.
The coupon code to earn double your reward points is
NM44WTFW
Add the coupon code to the discount box on the checkout page.
Your doubled-up reward points will be added to your account once you have finished paying, and are available to be used right after that.
The coupon code is only valid until midnight MDT, July 2nd.You can use the coupon as often as you like during the next four days.You can give the code to friends and family, and other readers.The coupon code will double the points on any purchase, including books on sale, boxed sets, etc. But it will not give reward points for free books.The coupon code is only valid for Stories Rule Press purchases. It will not work on other retail sites.To open an account and earn 1,000 pointsIf you’ve never shopped on SRP before, you can open your account now and immediately earn 1,000 points. Start here, to create your account. It will ask you to log in. Add your email address and a new password, and submit.
To start ShoppingOnce you’ve set up your account, or if you’re a return customer, you can start browsing the bookstore here.
Enjoy!
Tracy
June 22, 2023
Another Update
As I promised back in December, I haven’t flooded you with updates about my health. I have been keeping everyone who wants to know updated on Facebook and via private emails, and if you are curious to learn even more about my health status, you can find all the updates here.
I’ve learned that many people appreciate the monthly-ish updates. Just this week I learned that another Myeloma sufferer is following my posts–she’s about three months behind me, treatment-wise and is learning a lot from my posts.
I shouldn’t be surprised, but I *am* surprised by how many cancer sufferers are out there. I’ve been contacted by people recently diagnosed and scared out of their brains. I’ve heard from survivors who have been cured or in remission for years. Cancer patients currently going through chemo have shared their stories with me privately. It has been a humbling and educational period for me.
So here’s my current update.
1. I am officially in remission.
I actually have been in remission since before the transplant – when my m-proteins hit zero. I thought that this was the case but wasn’t sure. I asked the oncologist and he agreed that yes, I am in remission.
The stem cell transplant I had in April will ensure that the remission period lasts as long as possible.
2. In July I will have a CT scan.
This will help determine the degree of remission, and help the oncologist figure out next steps.
Next steps may or may not include a couple more rounds of the lighter chemo, just to nail the lid shut. It may also include an ongoing low dose chemo drug. The scan and my blood work in July will help determine what happens next.
3. I’m recovering super well from the stem cell transplant.
The oncologist asked me today to rate how I feel in general, with 10 being jumping out of my skin with energy and good health, and 0 being how I felt when I came out of hospital.
I rated myself at 4 to 5 out of 10. The oncologist was very pleased with my answer. He said that most patients, at this point in their recovery from the transplant, usually rated themselves around 1 or 2.
4. My response to the treatments so far gives me a promising outlook.
The average remission period for someone in my situation is 5 years. This is a statistical figure, which means that half the people enjoyed a longer remission period, and half the people in the database experienced remissions that were shorter than five years.
Because my cancer has responded so strongly to the chemo, etc., my oncologist feels fairly confident that I will get to enjoy a longer remission period than average.
5. There will be no more stem cell transplants for me.
Because of how strenuous and physically challenging they are, the Cross Cancer Institute has an age cut-off point for stem cell transplants. If my remission period really does last longer than five years, then I will be over the age limit for a transplant.
But the oncologist doesn’t feel that will be an issue, because….
6. A great many new and highly promising treatments and techniques are on the cusp of being introduced to patients in general.
My oncologist was very excited about some of them, too. When I do finally relapse (as Multiple Myeloma is a relapsing/remitting cancer), he feels that these treatments will be far better options for me. He said, and I quote, “We’ll have you living to a ripe old age.”
___________
So there you have it. It was a very good news day for me.
As you’re reading this post, I’m assuming you’re interested in how my health is affecting the production of my books, which is the reason why I wrote the first update last December.
The stem cell transplant slowed me down a lot. But now I’m home and recovering well, I’m easing back into a full writing schedule. I’ll be catching up as quickly as I can.
The best way to hear about new releases is, of course, to subscribe to my newsletter, because it is there where you will hear first about release dates and upcoming titles.
Cheers,
June 15, 2023
First Chapter from the Adelaide Becket Boxed Set
We’re two weeks away from the SRP release of Adelaide Becket’s Adventures, the boxed set that pulls together the seven stories (so far) released in the historical suspense series.
That means, it’s time for the first chapter for you to sample. Only, there are no chapters in the stories, so I’ll drop below for you a longish excerpt from the first book in the collection, The Requisite Courage.
The Requisite Courage
Balmoral Castle, Ballater, Scotland. 1906
Adele had attended too many royal functions to consider a party at Balmoral more than merely interesting, even if it was a weekend house party at which King Edward himself would be present—weekend house parties being notorious for generating scandals and adventures to supply the rest of society with gossip to last the season.
What was vexing was to step beyond the butler’s silver tray and size up the guests as Melville had instructed her, only to find she knew the first guest her gaze rested upon rather too well.
Six feet and two inches of debonair Saville Row tuxedo, thick dark blond hair combed into rare obedience, and grey eyes which missed nothing. Those eyes were narrowed and examining her right now.
Daniel Hargrave Bannister. The Second.
“Oh, bother…” Adele murmured. She plucked a champagne glass from the tray the footman held out to her and thanked him absently as Daniel moved toward her.
“Lady Adelaide, how delightful,” Daniel said in greeting. “And here I thought that Cape Town had acquired you forever while I lingered neglected, here in England.”
“I heard you were in East Africa, Daniel. Collecting ivory, wasn’t it? Or were you a miserable failure at that, too?” She smiled and sipped and tried to examine the other guests, but Daniel’s shoulders were simply too high and rather broad, as well.
“I am a perfect shot,” he said coolly. “As you well know.”
The mention of guns made her reticule feel suddenly too heavy on her arm. “I’m not sure how I might know that,” she said stiffly. “The only time I’ve ever seen you was in drawing rooms, usually propping up a mantelshelf, which seemed to adequately suit your personality.”
Daniel’s jaw grew firmer.
“I must present myself to the King,” Adele added before he could fire a return salvo, for she had spotted the King’s corpulent figure, surrounded by glittering teagowns and satin lapels. “Excuse me.”
She crossed the room, scanning faces as she moved. Most of them were people she knew from her few seasons in London, but she hadn’t seen any of them for several years.
One of the small group gathered around the King was Boyd Waterman. The Earl of Whitehead, he was now. She touched his elbow. Boyd glanced at her, most of his attention upon the King, who was speaking. Then Boyd swiveled his gaze back to her, his eyes widening.
“Good Lord! Adele!” he exclaimed softly, turning to her. “I thought you were in the Cape Colony.” He bent and brought his lips and his bristling mousy-brown moustache within an inch of her cheek. “How marvelous!” Then his smile faded. “I’m so sorry about Hugh.”
She managed to keep her smile in place. “Thank you.” She nodded toward the King. “Would you do the honors, Boyd?”
“You’ve never met Bertie?”
“No, I’ve never had the pleasure.” She had been one of the last debutantes to be presented to Queen Victoria.
“Well, then.” Boyd brought his arm around her back and shepherded her into the little circle, while stepping back to make room for her. He cleared his throat.
King Edward finished speaking to Miriam Lynwood, then raised a brow at Boyd. His gaze shifted to Adele.
“Your Highness, may I present to you Lady Adelaide Azalea Margaret de Morville, Mrs. Hugh Becket, lately of the Cape Colony but now returned to us.” Boyd added, “Lady Adele, His Royal Highness, King Edward VII.”
Adele gave a shallow curtsey. “Your Highness. Thank you for the invitation. I am honored to be here.”
Edward’s eyes twinkled with good cheer. “You are very welcome, Lady Adelaide.”
“Adele, Your Highness.”
“And I am Bertie—at least here among friends,” he told her. “You do light up this chilly old place in a most pleasing manner.”
Adele gave a polite laugh. “Thank you, Your…Bertie.”
“Yes indeed.” He smoothed his moustache with one finger. “I would be interested to see how you improve the northwest corner of the floor above us.”
Everyone tittered nervously. Adele made herself smile, although she didn’t understand the King’s comment.
Boyd swayed toward her. “The royal bedroom,” he breathed.
“Oh…” Adele smiled even more brightly at the King. “You are too kind, Your Highness.”
King Edward beamed at her.
The butler standing at his elbow cleared his throat and murmured, while the King turned his head to listen. “Ah!” Edward said. “Arthur has arrived back from Ireland. I must have a word with my little brother before he hides in his room to sulk.” He nodded at everyone, who bowed and curtsied.
The King hurried away.
“Oh, dear,” Adele murmured, watching him go.
Boyd turned to Adele. “You did make an impression.”
“I’m afraid so.” How could she properly assess the King’s guests, if the King was far too interested in her? And time was short…
She turned on her heel and surveyed the room. “I must speak with Miriam,” she murmured. A footman eased toward her and proffered his tray of full glasses and she swapped hers for a fresh one, then moved toward the small group Miriam Lynwood was part of.
When she was only part way across the room, Miriam turned her head. Her expression was utterly blank, as if she was glancing at a stranger.
Adele stopped short, her heart stirring. “Oh, dear…” she murmured.
Thirty minutes later, Adele had switched from mild exclamations to pithy curses—purely in her own mind. She stood by herself at the end of one of the elegant French sofas, drinking moodily and assessing her progress.
She had forgotten a fact of society life since leaving for the Cape. Women in Cape Town could speak to whomever they wished, for everyone knew everyone else there, and one’s station was immaterial.
Too, her station had diminished somewhat since she had last mingled with the upper classes of England. She was the widow of a commoner, now. That was something she was sure William Melville had failed to take into account when he had convinced her to help him with his work.
He had called upon her unannounced only ten days ago, wearing an insipid suit and unremarkable bowler hat and introduced himself, with a near-bow, as a friend of her husband’s.
Adele had stood amidst trunks and sea chests and mounds of packing straw, feeling hot and dispirited, while Melville explained why he had come to the house her father had grudgingly acquired for her only two days previously, when Adele had not yet announced her new address to anyone in London.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Adele said bluntly, after he had spoken for several minutes. “What has my husband to do with German colonial efforts?”
“Nothing at all, Lady Adelaide,” Melville replied. “It is you who can help me.”
“I?”
Melville’s jovial expression faded. “You speak fluent German with an upper-class accent, thanks to your three years in Cape Town. You are a peer and a member of society. And you are…well, forgive me for saying so, Lady Adelaide, but you are a woman and are therefore easily discounted in the minds of men—if they notice you at all.”
Adele brushed her hands. “I see. You’d best get to your point, Mr. Melville. I have a dinner appointment to prepare for.”
“You are eating alone, as usual,” Melville replied. “Cod, tonight, I believe.”
She stared at him. “You are uncommonly informed.”
“It is my responsibility to be so informed,” Melville replied. “You could achieve that level of understanding, too, Mrs. Becket. You are uniquely placed to serve Britain in a way few women can.”
Adele blinked. She sank onto a still-closed tea chest. “Go on.”
Melville spun his bowler brim in his fingers. His eyes no longer appeared to be amiable but filled with a quick intelligence which didn’t match the outward demeanor. “I must be blunt and short, Lady Adelaide, for time is ticking. My work is very simple. I root out German spies, here at home and abroad, if necessary, to stop them from undermining Britain. Five days ago, I learned of a conspiracy that reaches to the highest levels of the land.”
Adele gripped her fingers together. “A…conspiracy?”
Melville nodded. “I have learned there is a plot to assassinate King Edward, for he holds little regard for Germany and his attitude tends to filter downward to the Houses, and to those who make official policy in Britain.”
“Oh my,” she breathed. Then, “How can I possibly help with such a dire matter as that?”
Melville pointed to the other nailed-shut tea chest. “May I?”
She nodded.
He perched on the edge of the chest. “The King is holding a weekend house party at Balmoral, in two weeks’ time.”
Adele shook her head. “If you think I can help you with that, you are wrong. I have not been invited.” In fact, she had told no one outside her immediate family that she was back in the country. She had wanted time alone to adjust to the dampness of England and the sounds and smells of London which she had once known very well. St. James was a stranger to her now. Mayfair was distressingly unfamiliar. Even Hyde Park was…changed.
Melville shook his head at her refutation. “The King’s secretary has learned that you are recently returned. You will receive your invitation this afternoon.”
Adele pursed her lips. “I wonder…did you tell him that?”
Melville smiled, which changed his features and made him appear to be a completely different man. “There. You see? You have a natural affinity for the work.”
“My husband always decried my suspicious nature,” she replied tartly. “It is hardly an asset.”
“In this work, it is,” Melville assured her.
Adele pressed her hands together once more. They were damp. “I fail to see how an inclination toward suspicion can possibly stop a plot of the sort you think might be happening.”
“Oh, it will happen,” he assured her. “I have thoroughly questioned a German who has confirmed it. Your role, if you agree to help me, is simple. The man who is coordinating the attack will be at Balmoral.”
“One of the guests?” Adele breathed, horrified. “But…but they are peers! People I know! None of them could possibly—”
Melville held up his hand, his palm toward her.
Adele drew in a breath and made herself stop babbling.
Melville’s expression was sympathetic. “I understand that this is a shock to you. Perhaps it will serve to underline just how ruthless the Germans can be. They exploit the weaknesses of good men, turn them and make them work for German interests.”
“How could any man ever consider…” Adele shook her head.
Melville considered her. “What if I said to you that I know the truth about your husband’s and your son’s deaths?”
Adele gasped, sickness swooping through her. “What could you possibly know about it? They died in a house fire.” It hurt to speak of it.
“But what if there were more to the matter?”
Adele gripped the metal edges of the tea chest, which dug into her fingers. “My husband was a dry goods merchant.”
Melville nodded. “Yes, indeed, but can you see how the Germans could twist it and make you biddable? They could come to you and say they know the truth about the fire, that they know who set it and killed your husband and your son. That they are willing to tell you everything they know, if you will only help them with a small matter of theirs…”
Adele stared at him in horror. “This is what they did with…with whoever intends to kill the King?”
“Yes,” Melville said flatly. “They have an agent in the castle itself, who will oversee the planting of the bomb. Shortly before the bomb explodes, I am sure he will contrive to leave the castle, so he is out of the way and safe.”
“A bomb…” She brought her hand to her throat. Her chest hurt from the ramming of her heart. “You want me to learn who the man is, do you not?”
“There. You are capable of independent and clear thought, just as I had hoped. Yes, Lady Adelaide. I need you to identify who the agent is. I will be on the grounds, disguised as a groundskeeper and will be watching as closely as I can. Once you know who the man is, your part in the matter will be over. I will move in and deal with him, after that.”
Adele considered. “What if the man, whoever he is, learns that I am looking for him?”
“Ah.” Melville reached into his pocket, withdrew a small handgun, which he placed on the tea chest next to him.
Adele stared at it.
“I know you have fired guns before,” Melville said.
“Rifles!” she protested. “Hunting rifles.”
“And shotguns, yes.” He gave her a tight smile. “It is the same principle. Make sure the gun is loaded, cock it and fire.” He paused. “You will do splendidly, Lady Adelaide. Only you can help me save the King.”
She swallowed. “You had best call me Adele,” she told him. “I hope you like fish.”
The first seven Lady Adelaide stories in one volume.As Europe draws toward war, an extraordinary woman steps into the arena. In Edwardian England, Lady Adelaide Azalea Margaret de Morville, Mrs. Hugh Becket, lately of the Cape Colony, was born the daughter of an Earl, but is now the widow of a commoner. She straddles two worlds, speaks fluent German, and can ride, hunt and shoot. Her talents draws the eye of spymaster William Melville, who recruits her to help him fight a shadow game with German agents both at home and aboard, as Europe heads toward an inevitable conflict…
A Historical Suspense Espionage Omnibus
The Adelaide Becket series.
1: The Requisite Courage
2: The Rosewater Debutante
3: The Unaccompanied Widow
4: The Lavender Semaphore
5: The Broadcloth Midnight
6: The Salinghall Error
7: The Indecent Agent
7.5: Adelaide Becket’s Adventures
…and more to come.
An Edwardian Suspense Espionage series
{Also see: Thrillers, Espionage, Historical, Novelettes}
Adelaide Becket’s Adventures will be available on Stories Rule Press on June 29th, two weeks from now. It will be available more widely, on the other bookstores, a bit later in the year.
Don’t forget to grab the 10% off coupon on the front page of Stories Rule Press if you’re a new customer.
Or you can use your reward points to gain a discount on the set, if you’ve shopped on SRP before.
Buy from Me @ SRP!
June 10, 2023
This Military Romance Series Returns to Full Retail Next Saturday
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, now that the COVID pandemic is officially over, all the series that I discounted by 50% to help readers in lockdown or financial straits afford something to read, are now being returned to full retail over the last few, and next few, weeks.
The next series to return to full retail is the Vistaria Has Fallen series — military romance with a twist — the military heroes are Latino, based in a fictitious island nation off the coast of Mexico. The heroes and heroines face a bloody revolution that takes the entire series to play out.
All the books in the series are here.
Book One of the series, Vistaria Has Fallen, will remain free.
Books Two to Six will have their prices raised from $2.99 to $4.99 next Saturday.
There is a series boxed set, if you like boxed sets, and the price for that is not changing.
There is more about the series here: https://tracycooperposey.com/vistaria-has-fallen-series/.
Or you can jump straight to the store pages here: https://storiesrulepress.com/product-tag/vistaria-has-fallen/
If you have never bought books from SRP (my publisher and store) before, then stop by the front page on Stories Rule Press (https://StoriesRulePress.com) and pick up the introductory 10% off coupon code.
If you’ve bought books from SRP before, you can use your rewards points to earn a discount on these already discounted books.
Or you can buy them from any other retail store (links are on SRP, too), without the discount.
Enjoy.
