Linda Nightingale's Blog, page 71
November 15, 2014
Beautiful Outlaw by Emily Minton
Synopsis
After the last fourteen years of
surviving as a walking, talking, living doll, Laura feels dead inside.
She has sacrificed everything for
her family, marrying a man she could never love. Her husband doesn’t beat her,
doesn’t berate her. He transforms her, forcing her to live as a stand-in for
his long dead wife. She stays silent as piece after piece of herself
disappears, willing to do anything to protect the people she loves.
When his demands go too far, she
finally tells her brother the ugly truth.
Wanting to protect her without
putting the rest of their family at risk, he sends her to the one place he
knows she’ll be safe. He places her into the hands of his best friend, Vice
President of the Savage Outlaws MC.
Once again, she is transformed into
someone new; Shay.
Bowie has spent many nights
dreaming about his best friend’s little sister. The reality is so much sweeter
than his dreams. He wants to be more for Shay, needs to protect her, but he’s
not sure if he knows how.
Can an Outlaw show her how
beautiful life should be?
Excerpt
I push Shay in front of my body. She tries to pull away, but I tighten my grip and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t move.”
My voice has her shaking; her fear is so strong that I swear I can taste it, but this shit has to be done. Putting my hand under her chin and lifting her eyes to the crowd. I run my other hand up to cup her breast, making sure the boys get my point, as I start to talk. “Take a good look, brothers. This here is mine. If I even hear of one of you laying a finger on her, I will fuckin’ kill you.”
A few hoots and hollers fill the room, but I ignore them. I look around, just to be sure everyone understands. “I claim her as my property. She’s my Old Lady. Stay the fuck away from her.”
With that, I lower my hand from her face and place it on her arm. I pull her along as I make my way to my room. As soon as I step inside, I slam the door. Looking down at her, I lay out the rules. “Never fight me in front of those boys, and I mean fuckin’ ever. If you don’t like what I do, tell me when we’re alone. Throw all the sass you want behind closed doors, but never show anything but complete respect in front of them.”
Her face is hard. Instead of the tears I expected to see, her eyes are burning with anger. “So, I can say whatever I want right now?”
Her voice comes out in a hiss, as she crosses her arms. Every inch of her is vibrating with fury, and she looks hot as hell. I nod, trying not to crack a smile. “Yeah, any fuckin’ thing you want.”
She lifts a hand, point a finger at my chest. “Next time you decide to treat me like a piece of meat, give me a little warning. Tell me you’re about to parade me in front of a bunch of bikers and let them look their fill. Don’t scare the hell out of me like that.”
“Is that all?” I ask, still working to keep my laughter in check.
She moves forward, her finger now poking me. “I’ll treat you with respect, but you are going to do the same for me. I’ll play your little lap dog in front of your friends, but you better not do something like that to me ever again. If you do, I’ll be out of here and back at Nina’s before you can even blink an eye.”
The humor of the moment dies a fast death, and I reach down and grab her. Walking her back to the bed, I push her down and climb over her. As I cage her body below mine, I start to speak. “Never fuckin’ threaten me again. You’re not going to Nina’s or any damn where else. You’re mine, and you better never forget it.”
Buy Link
Author Bio
USA Today Best Selling Author,
Emily Minton is a Kentucky native. She claims she bleeds blue–Wildcat Blue!
Emily loves to read, and this love of the written word led to her writing
career.
Social Media Links
Facebook-
http://www.facebook.com/AuthorEmilyMinton
Twitter-
http://www.twitter.com/emilymintonbks
Pintrest-
http://www.pinterest.com/EmilyMintonBks1/
Website-
http://www.emilyminton.com/
Goodreads-
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7171978.Emily_Minton
Amazon- http://www.amazon.com/Emily-Minton/e/B00FHIMV3O/
Giveaway
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November 13, 2014
High Andes by Rolf Margenau
Rolf will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour: a Rafflecopter giveaway
BLURB:
Wylie Cypher, suffering from a mid-life crisis, decides to challenge fading youth by taking a trekking vacation across the Cordillera Blanca (White Mountains) of the High Andes in Peru with his daughter, Mercy, just graduated from college. It is 1981.
While working with legal clients in Lima, he inadvertently acquires documents that contain explosive and damning evidence about the Peruvian government’s extreme interrogation techniques. He learns that something is amiss when police detain and torture him. He loses his little toe. A series of misunderstandings precipitate a heart-pounding chase across the high mountains as two sets of villains – government thugs and members of the communist guerrilla Sendero Luminoso – seek out the Cypher group with murderous intent. Combat in the thin air of the mountains, deceptions of numerous sorts, hairbreadth escapes, torture, action in underground caves populated with mummies, and unexpected plot twists fill the pages of this book.
It is in the United States’ national interest to observe the growing communist threat in its hemisphere, so C.I.A. agents are involved. While Wylie and his cohorts are running for their lives, the author also reports on international smuggling of historical artifacts, the fate of a 600-year-old child mummy, and the ancient spirit of the mountains, Pachamama.
Excerpt:
The special child seemed almost weightless in his arms as he approached the niche in the rocks where he intended to place her. Ayar continued to gauge his ascent carefully, constantly scanning the path below and the horizon. Special concern was necessary, as the Chimu had not yet settled the war between their nations. They still sent out raiding parties even as far south as Huaraz.
The body of the four-year-old girl he carried was the daughter of Cuca, wife of Maita Capac. Cuca herself was now sick with the plague that lay like a dark hand on the people of the White Mountains. That disease had quickly taken the life of her firstborn, the lively and adored Cocohuay, named for the turtledoves kept in a dovecote outside her window.
The sickness spread almost faster than the noble runners could report. There was news about strange white people at Tumbes in the north. They wore silver jackets and sat on four-legged beasts three times the size of the largest llama. They had huge wooden houses that went on the sea, and sticks that carried thunder.
The plague began at Tumbes, and the wooden houses left two of the strange men there and sailed away. Huayna Capac sent to have them brought to him, but they were lost along the way. Now the ruler’s people in Chavín de Huántar were dying. The embalmer’s services were in high demand.
Cuca called Ayar when her little daughter died. As wife of the regional administrator, Cuca was highly placed and her demands took priority. Not that the embalmer would have denied her. Once he saw the frail little child carefully arranged on the low table among sweet-smelling grasses and flowers, and noted the florid flush of her face and body, his heart went out to the grieving mother. He would do all he could to prepare the little girl.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
The author of Public Information has had a varied career. He has been a scrub nurse in an operating room, a professional photographer, a soldier during the Korean War, a correspondent for the Pacific Stars and Stripes, an attorney specializing in international corporate law, a volunteer executive running a not-for-profit dedicated to housing the homeless, a manager of large and small businesses and, lately, an author and Master Gardener.
He first published short stories as an English Major from Yale. Finding the double-digit pay for that work insufficient to support a wife and one and a half children, he went to law school in hopes of finding better paying work. Fortunately, that proved to be the case.
When the author discovered that his wife kept all the 300 plus letters he wrote her from Korea, he decided to use that material as the basis for a novel about the Korean War. It was a story he had wanted to tell for many years.
Public Information is based on his experiences as NCO in charge of a combat Infantry Division Public Information (hence the title) Office in Korea. It tells the story of Wylie Cypher, a hapless young soldier who arrives in Korea in the midst of bloody combat. Wylie manages to survive his sixteen-month tour of duty as Margenau recounts in gory, ribald, poignant and accurate detail. His adventures are recounted in military jargon and his sometimes abrasive involvement with the “Army way” describes the good, bad and incredible of life in the military. Along the way, Wylie manages to find and lose love.
Other veterans have found the story authentic and highly illustrative of the background and details of the Korean War. Publisher’s Weekly commented on the author’s ability to create a sense of time and place. During the summer of 2012, Public Information became an Amazon.com Kindle best seller.
Pistils and Poetry is the author’s second book. It is a compilation of Margenau’s favorite Elizabethan poems (Shakespeare, Marlowe, Donne, and numerous others) juxtaposed with the author’s photographs of flowers. It is a rich and engaging poetry book, enhanced and complimented by luscious photos of flowers. The book is considered as an elegant way to tease reluctant poetry readers into an appreciation of the beautiful sentiments and language of long ago masters of the English language.
Encouraged by the reception for his first novel, Margenau published Master Gardener, his second novel, in March 2013. It is a story that explores conflicts between the benefits of engineered crops and their potential for ecological disaster. Wylie Cypher, the hero of Public Information, is now seventy-five years old. He uses his life and legal experience to defend one of the women in his life, Anne Proctor, against the machinations of malevolent BIG AG. Senior citizens band together as eco-terrorists to save the monarch butterfly, and Dick Geier, the ruthless and profane CEO of BIG AG, engages in corporate shenanigans that reflect current headlines. The story is set in Middletown, New Anglia, not too far from Philadelphia, and episodes along the Amazon River in Peru bracketed by episodes along the Amazon River in Peru..
His third novel, published in August 2014, is High Andes. The central narrative follows Wylie Cypher, in his mid-forties and suffering from a serious mid-life crisis, and his daughter, Mercy, as they try to elude various villains chasing them across the White Mountains of Peru. The story deals with armed insurrection by Maoist guerillas, smuggling ancient artifacts, “disappearances” of troublemakers, a five hundred year old child mummy, and the CIA.
Rolf Margenau lives in rural New Jersey with his wife, three dogs, a 1932 Chrysler convertible, and a flower garden favored by monarch butterflies. He is now working on his fourth novel. Tentatively titled National Parks, the story recounts what happens, in the near future, when Congress decides to nationalize America’s National Parks.
November 12, 2014
Computer Love Inc. II: Gestation by Kurt and Jessica Hansen
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Enter to win a $50 Amazon gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
After the sudden deaths of two previous Computer Love Inc. CEOs, Marius takes control of the company. Embracing the talents of his godson, John, and his best friend, Zak, he hires the boys to oversee the Companion Services Division. Marius refines his breakthrough technology, the Brain Machine Download, and as a result, creates his double, M2, as the prototype. Together, they ignite the future of Computer Love Inc. by acquiring an elite team of scientists to expand the company’s technological boundaries. Meanwhile, Marius struggles with the government’s demands for a clandestine initiative – the Secret Service Companion. Between the looming government presence and the overwhelming force behind his new team of inventors, can Marius survive the outcome of his own creations?
Enjoy an excerpt:
“So, Marius, I’m pleased, as I’m sure you must be, that the download between you and I went so well.”
The remark was sudden and bewildering.
“Yes, I am also pleased…” Marius paused. “What brings that up, M2? Is there something you feel we need to improve upon?”
“No, actually, I don’t think that at all. In fact, I think the process and aftermath have proven to be extremely fruitful, don’t you?”
“Well, yes… But then, what is it?”
“I just recalled an idea we had, that’s all,” M2 said.
“’We’ had an idea?”
“Well, as you know, to say that we think alike would be an understatement.” M2 paused and allowed Marius to have a laugh. “So obviously your knowledge of robotics resides not only within you, but within me as well. I know you’ve thought about it, the possibility to help the company pounce into the next generation. What if, say, we were to make a team of Companions, not unlike myself, created from experts in different fields? For example… We could use that famous technology instructor, the woman from Advance Propulsion Labs who’s won awards for all of those groundbreaking projects they’ve done recently, or even that metal-loving genius who combines materials recovered from asteroids with titanium and such. It would be a team of biorobotic and propulsion brilliance with unlimited potential!”
About the Author:
Kurt and Jessica Hansen reside in northern New Jersey . Kurt has worked in the aerospace electronics industry for over three decades and enjoys the outdoors, writing, and composing music. Kurt is easily recognized with a guitar in his lap, a pencil in his mouth, and a piece of paper in front of him.
Jessica graduated from Montclair State University, summa cum laude, with a B.A. in English. Her favorite pastimes include reading, running and spending time with her family. She can usually be found with a book in one hand and a hazelnut coffee in the other.
The Computer Love Inc. series is a collaborative effort between father and daughter.
Kurt and Jessica Hansen Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Kurt-Hansen/e/B00E9ZHCGM/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Website: http://computerloveinc.com/Home.html
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/ComputerLoveInc
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Computer-Love-Inc/396920320362031
Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.
November 11, 2014
Aegis Rising by S.S. Segran
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly drawn commenter will receive a $40 Amazon GC. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Over a remote northern forest, a small plane carrying five teenage friends flies into a freak storm. Struck by lightning, the aircraft crashes and the passengers find themselves cast into a life-changing adventure.
In a hidden valley, a mysterious people gaze at the stormy sky as a glowing object with fiery wings disappears behind a mountain ridge. The astonishing sight reignites an ancient prophecy foretelling the arrival of five chosen ones destined to become bearers of light against a dark storm gathering on humanity’s horizon.
In a distant city, a secretive organization led by a shadowy figure initiates a sequence of cataclysmic events designed to wreak havoc across the planet, beginning with a remote mining site in northern Canada.
As the three worlds collide, unlikely heroes arise. Armed with powers entrusted to them by the ancient prophecy and the resilience of their life-long bond, the five teens take a stand against a malevolent foe.
REVIEW: “Astonishingly imaginative and thoughtful. Aegis Rising sets a festive narrative table and makes the reader eagerly anticipate a sequel.” ~ Samuel F. Pickering, Professor Emeritus of English, University of Connecticut & Inspiration for the film Dead Poet’s Society ~
Jag placed two fingers on his mentor’s neck and felt a very faint pulse. He slammed his fist against the ground, knowing Tayoka was hardly hanging on.
“Is he still alive?” Tegan murmured.
“Barely.”
Aari looked up at the Osprey. “We need to get him out of here. The plane’s going to turn back soon.”
“Take care of him,” Jag said, an edge to his voice as he stood up.
Tegan caught a look in his eyes and knew something was brewing in his mind. “What are you—”
“Just get him to safety,” he cut her off, turning to look at the plane. Without another word, he started to sprint in the direction of the aircraft. He heard his friends shouting his name but his mind was set and he was not turning back.
About the Author:
S.S.Segran spent a good chunk of her childhood exploring the enchanted forest of a million tales in the mystical land of books. In her early teens, she began crafting intriguing new worlds and conjuring up characters who came alive with the flick of her wand… err… pen. With the publication of Aegis Rising in her senior year of high school, she was surprised by the abundance of time that magically appeared right after graduation. She plans to use this newfound resource to expand the arc of the Aegis Series. Her future plans include studying Cognitive Science at university and helping youths in developing countries realize their potential through the non-profit organization, Aegis League (www.aegisleague.org)
When not devouring a book or writing one, S.S.Segran can be found standing behind the cauldron of life, stirring a potion made up of chores, parkour, gaming, drawing, horseback riding and—having recently jumped off a perfectly fine airplane at fifteen thousand feet – perhaps skydiving.
• website: www.aegisnovel.com
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aegisnovel
• Youtube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/user/segranbooks
• Buy the book at Amazon.
November 5, 2014
Ash’s Fire by Callie Gold
Callie will be giving one commenter a $50 Amazon/Barnes & Noble Gift Card! So, enjoy, comment and enter a Rafflecopter giveaway!
BLURB:
ASH’S FIRE is a romantic mystery novel for real-life, thinking women. Its main ingredients are consuming desire, addictive love, grave suspicions, the testing of friendship and loyalty, and the hardships of modern monogamy. It is the first novel in a planned trilogy.
In a nutshell: Attorney Jordan Cohen has built a solid life with Sam, her husband, best friend and brilliant criminal defense attorney. At forty-something, she is accomplished and beautiful, but despondent. What’s next? Old age, then death? When Sam invokes their old pact and demands Jordan’s consent to his affair, Jordan fights her fear and anger.
A chance encounter with the New York-based concert pianist Ari Ash offers Jordan a venue for retaliation. But enthralled with Ari’s dazzling smile, stirring music and raven locks, her fling turns into a full-blown affair. And Ari’s heart-stopping, mind-bending sex games turn her into an addict. When Sam finds out, the Cohens’ friendship – and partnership – is tested.
When Ari becomes a suspect in a grisly, execution-style murder, Jordan stands by him and enlists Sam to defend him. But her loyalty to her lover is eroded as she uncovers one troubling fact after another. Ari has many secrets…
And then her marriage and the Cohen & Cohen law firm are threatened by a manipulative police detective who threatens Jordan with exposure of her affair…
In the old-meets-new vibrant city of Tel-Aviv, a tormented Jordan races to uncover the truth, save the two men that she loves, and ultimately, reclaim her own path.
Excerpt:
“Are you okay?” she asked, reigning in her instant desire for him, feeling the burden of the empty shelves in the empty apartment.
“Keeping busy,” he texted.
“How was your rehearsal?”
“Better than yesterday,” Ari wrote.
“That’s great,” she wrote back, and added another smiley. “I miss you.”
“Me too,” he wrote. “I think of your hands caressing me.”
“Lots of caressing waiting for you when you come back.” Ari knows how to cheer himself up, she thought, focus on the positive, on what he was doing, on the good things to come. And then she added, “I miss your hands, too.” She imagined his hands, big and strong and sensuous, more knowing than any that had ever touched her. She thought of his long menu of touches, from fluttering butterflies that landed and danced, to hungry lions, that pounced and devoured. From ticklish caterpillars that wriggled slowly, to finicky kittens that bumped exuberantly. His hands told innumerable stories, took her body on imaginary voyages. His hands knew how to fill her with fantasy, with excitement.
“Where exactly do you miss them?” he asked.
“It’s a very long list.” she answered, a smile pulling her cheeks up, her skin tingling. Jordan felt his hands on her face, caressing her gently, reaching into her hair, and then behind her neck, holding her head, nestling it. Ari’s hands knew how to sooth her pain, give her patience to wait for his return. She felt his hands waking her body, exciting it, make her blood heat and run faster in her veins.
“I’m looking at your beautiful face now,” he wrote back, “I want you to do the same.”
“Got it,” she smiled. “You XL piece of sweet caramel candy, you!” she said. “I wish I could be there to help you with the shelves.”
“Me, too. You can hold, while I drill. Give me a hand?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Callie Gold is an Israeli and a Jew. She has lived in the USA for about a decade before 
returning home. She is a lawyer, a divorce mediator and a marriage counselor, and she helps couples work through their personal and marital crises. She is the author of a practical guide for couples in a committed relationship, published in Israel in 2014. Ash’s Fire is her first novel. Callie is married and a mother of three kids.
http://www.amazon.com/Callie-Gold/e/B00O2X5LLE/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_5?qid=1412210048&sr=8-5
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8591375.Callie_Gold
https://www.facebook.com/Calliegold.Israel
FOR MORE CHANCES TO WIN THE $50 gift card, follow Callie on her tour and read more interesting excerpts:
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2014/10/virtual-book-tour-ashs-fire-by-callie.html
BOOK BLAST & GIVEAWAY
BOOK BLAST FOR SINNERS’ OBSESSION & GIVEAWAY! Enter to win a chance at a Vampire wine glass or an eBook of either The Night Before Doomsday or Gemini Rising (winner’s choice). http://www.welovekink.com/sinners-obsession-by-linda-nightingale-trailer-excerpt-and-giveaway/ or follow me on my blast at any of the following: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1fKSz4W223xIafUbgTn1q554n5J5zcsYMwn0MVeMN_T8/edit?usp=sharing
Cardinal Desires is on sale at Amazon for 50% off cover price. Grab your copy! http://www.amazon.com/Cardinal-Desires-Linda-Nightingale/dp/1771151420/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1415194542&sr=8-1&keywords=cardinal+desires
November 3, 2014
Mind of the Beast by Brian and Juliet Freyermuth
(a Sundancer Novel, Book 2)
Brian and Juliet will be awarding a $25 Amazon giftcard to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour a Rafflecopter giveaway
Brian and Juliet kindly agreed to share a little about themselves in an interview:
What is your greatest temptation?
Juliet: Thank you for having us. Hmm. Greatest temptation? That would have to be Chai 
Tea Lattes from Starbucks. There’s just something delicious about a smooth hot beverage with a little bit of spice, especially when the weather cools down.
Brian: For me it’s pumpkin pie, especially when I make it from scratch. A nice flaky crust, pour in the pumpkin, add the sugar and a touch of nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves… nothing says the holidays like fresh made pumpkin pie.
What is your greatest weakness (example: buying shoes)?
Juliet: I know this is predictable, but I’d have to say books, especially romance novels. My kindle became so overloaded a few months ago that I had to go online and delete books just to be able to open it!
Brian: I’ve collected quite a few odds and ends over the years. I’m a real Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer nut, from my huge Bumble figure to my little Island of Misfit Toys. When I worked on Epic Mickey 2, I began buying Oswald the Lucky Rabbit. T-Shirts, stuffed animals, you name it. No matter where I’m working, you can pretty much find action figures and Legos on my desk.
If you could have any kind of car, what would it be?
Juliet: Frankly, I love my Mazda 5. It gets into any parking spot, turns tight corners and I can load it up when going on road trips and still have room for my teenage son and dog.
Brian: Do I have to choose one? I’d love to have a fixed up VW Bug, but barring that, I had a 2000 Ford Mustang Convertible that I loved. And lastly, my dad used to own a little Alpine Sunbeam rag top. So we’ll definitely need a bigger garage.
(Brian, you are like me — You’d have a garage-mahal! Linda)
Your dream home – mountains or ocean?
Juliet: That’s a tough one. A beach house would be nice. I could sit on my patio with my chai tea latte watching the sunset over the Pacific in California. I like walking along the shore at sunset, watching the sun paint its colorful exit as I listen to the waves slide in and out against the coast. I then close my eyes and give my stresses over to God.
Brian: Juliet is more of an ocean person than I am. I love the mountains, probably from when I grew up in the mountains of Colorado. The pine trees, the crisp air, the paths through the trees… they always make me feel like I’ve taken a trip into one of the fantasy novels I love to read.
Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, how do you overcome it?
Juliet: Absolutely! I had a writing drought that lasted years until I heard that Hemmingway thought first drafts were always bad. If you think about it, writing is a lot like creating a figure out of clay. The first draft is when you build up the clay until you have a generic shape but no real detail. It’s in the rewrites that you shape it, take away from here, add to there and finally polish it so it becomes something beautiful.
Thinking that way really takes the pressure off and the writer’s block is usually lifted. If that doesn’t work, I take long drives and walks. You’ll find me pacing laps around my downstairs if I’m working on something particularly frustrating. It really confuses my dog.
Brian: Usually I have to walk away from the scene for awhile. Play some video games, watch some television, that sort of thing. Clear my head.
The biggest thing that causes writer’s block for me is if I’m trying to force a character to do something he really doesn’t want to do. The only solution for that is to sit back and listen to what he or she has to say. Even if means rewriting a scene or even redoing the outline, I need to stay true to the character’s motivations. That usually gets the scene moving again.
What are you currently working on?
Brian: Right now I’m working on the first pass of Book 3 of the Sundancer series. Our process is pretty simple. We both brainstorm and come up with the story beats, and then I work on the rough draft. It then gets handed off to Juliet to tweak, cut, and redo scenes. At that point it’s the “official” rough draft, and we can both begin editing.
Juliet: While Brian is working on his part for Book 3, I’ve been going through old stories on our hard drive and deciding what to do with them. I recently added a short story called Sliding Down to our website. As soon as Book 3 is published, we’re going to reverse our process while I work on a new book I’ve been mulling over for a few months. Brian will rewrite stories I’ve found and I’ll be working on a rough draft. It’s been so much fun working with him.
Are you nervous about friends reading your book?
Juliet: Not at all. Brian and I are blessed with amazingly, supportive friends. They encourage us and tell us if something isn’t quite right.
I wasn’t always like this. I used to be terrified of anyone reading what I wrote. Until one day, a boy in my math class grabbed a really bad romance story I was writing and read it in front of the class. None of my fears can true that day so I started letting people read my stuff from then on.
Brian: Not at all. We’re always hungry for feedback, and that includes friends as well. Like Juliet said, we trust them to be constructive with their criticism.
Where are you from?
Juliet: I spent my elementary years in Las Vegas, which is the setting for Book 3, but I consider Southern California my home, no matter when I live.
Brian: I lived on the other side of Pikes Peak, in the mountains of Colorado. It was a tiny town where everyone knew each other. The humorous thing was when I moved to California in eighth grade, my new class was bigger than my entire school back in Colorado!
If you could hop on a plane now, where would you go?
Juliet: Since Narnia is not an option, I’d have to say San Diego so I can visit friends up and down the coast. Maybe visit San Diego Zoo if we had time.
Brian: Hey, Narnia sounds like a great trip to me.
What was your inspiration for Mind of the Beast?
Brian: I was actually having a really hard time with Mind of the Beast. Two drafts in, I realized that the story wasn’t something I wanted to tell. So I spent an hour doing research into old myths, and that’s when I came across the Green Man. There are a series of mysterious ancient carvings scattered across Europe. No one knows what they represent or who carved them. I started thinking about ancient beings forgotten over the centuries, and the story just flowed from there.
Juliet: There was a fight scene in Sal’s apartment that was inspired by a set of gnomes I saw when I visited a gifts shop in Julian, CA. I should have grabbed them. One was See No Evil, another was Hear No Evil and the third was Speak No Evil.
How long did it take to write Mind of the Beast?
Brian: The rough draft took about 2 months to write, and then about 5 more months to edit and get it out the door.
What is Number 1 on your Bucket List?
Juliet: Traveling the world and seeing different cultures. I’m fascinated by stories whether they are in the adventures you find in books, traditions of different cultures and beliefs, or a town’s history. We’ve been trying to hit as many states as possible before going abroad.
Although the U.S. definitely has its own united story, each place has their own story too. There’s a section of Seattle called the Fremont District. It’s got a very artsy feel to it. People there come from all different walks of life. But there is an underlying acceptance of the unusual there. One great example is every year there is a parade of naked people bicycling though the neighborhood. No, I have never participated.
I would like to travel cities in Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia, discovering both the stories of their cities and their people.
Brian: Don’t forget Narnia. Gotta get us a wardrobe…
*******
BLURB:
When a vampire asks Nick St. James to investigate his friend’s murder, the answer should have been easy, right? NO. Okay, not so easy. How do you say no to a friend like Felix?
Besides, with Thelma by his side, what could go wrong? She’s got that, umm … cute pink backpack of Voodoo magic. Of course it hurts that she manages to look good even when she accidentally conjures and gets possessed by a drunk loa. No, it won’t be at all distracting to have her along.
Since no good deed goes unpunished, a crazy man with starry eyes jumps out of the shadows at the victim’s apartment and pummels them. Their attacker doesn’t just beat them up but also infects them with some bad mojo that’s killing Thelma and making Nick angry … angrier.
If the trail to the suspect—the Green Man—is any indication, they’ll be killed before the poison finishes the job. The old gods are more dangerous than helpful. The Watchers—even the one who seems to have a brain—are always a hazard. And what’s with the all the minions? Who has minions anymore? Not to mention the rapid progression of the infection that quickly upgrades Nick’s condition to ‘blind-rage-filled.’
Why couldn’t Felix have just asked Nick to help him move?
*****
Excerpt:
She shot him again, but he continued toward her. Two bloodstains formed on his ratty shirt. He swung at her, but she quickly shifted to the left.
It was my turn. I punched him from the side and sent him flying into the desk across the room. Sounds of the monitor shattering and wood splintering filled the air as I rushed toward him.
Another sound of gunfire rang out but didn’t stop him from getting to his feet. He barreled toward me like a freight train. The gunshots slowed him considerably, but it didn’t stop him. Pain radiated through my chest as his fist made contact, sending me into the wall between the two rooms. A crack traveled up the wall to the ceiling, and plaster rained down around us.
More shots sounded as I got back to my feet. Two more holes opened in the man’s shirt. He was almost to Thelma when I grabbed him from behind. I used all my enhanced strength to lift him and toss him toward the kitchen. His body flew through the open door, smashing the wood of the frame in the process.
On the counter was the third gnome, his hands covering his speak-no-evil lips. I grabbed it and swung for the man’s head. It contacted with a sick thunk, and blood splashed across the gnome’s face. The bastard wouldn’t go down! I snarled and swung again, but this time he grabbed my wrist in midair and twisted it before tossing me to the ground.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
After 18 years of marriage, Brian and Juliet Freyermuth decided to try something crazy; write a book together.
Brian’s writing is not limited to print. For twenty years he wrote and designed games such as Fallout, Star Trek: Starfleet Academy, Epic Mickey 2 and Lichdom: Battlemage.
Juliet’s love for writing began with a fourth grade assignment. She has been writing ever since. Her writing took a new direction when she enrolled in journalism and met amazing people. Whether it is an article about anthropology or a hero’s journey in a magical world, she hopes to inspire readers to new possibilities.
When Brian and Juliet aren’t writing, they enjoy reading, watching shows like Persons of Interest and going on road trips with their son, Kyle.
Website: http://www.magicalunderworld.com
Twitter:
Brian: @brianfreyermuth
Juliet: @julietfrey
Facebook:
Brian: https://www.facebook.com/bfreyermuthofficial
Juliet: https://www.facebook.com/authorjulietfreyermuth
Buy Link:
Demon Dance (Sundancer, Book 1): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CA9IAOW
Mind of the Beast (Sundancer, Book 2): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MQ38D2Q
FOR MORE OPPORTUNITIES TO WIN, FOLLOW BRIAN AND JULIET ON TOUR:
http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2014/09/vbt-mind-of-beast-by-brian-juliet.html
November 2, 2014
The Love Brothers by Liz Crowe — COVER REVEAL!!
This post is part of a virtual book tour to reveal the covers of Liz Crowe’s newest series The Love Brothers: Love Garage, Coach Love, Love Brewing, and Family Love.
Liz will be giving away:
A Grand Prize pack which includes $60 worth of Amazon GCs, ebooks, and other prizes. There are also First and Second Place Prize packs consisting of Amazon GCs and books.
Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.
When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love becomes ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony’s garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: “Don’t smoke in my truck, don’t be late for work, and don’t mess with my girlfriend.”
But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony’s lifelong best friend and all bets are off.
Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River–except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.
The Love Brothers: A family saga with humor, heat and heart—not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball
Enjoy an excerpt from Love Garage:
Love Garage opened bright and early the next morning, a Saturday, a day Aiden had hoped to spend recovering.
“I get so many oil changes and random small jobs on Saturdays, it doesn’t make sense to be closed and let the jackasses with the Quickilube at Walmart get the business,” Antony insisted when Aiden groaned with dismay upon being awakened after two hours of drunken sleep. It didn’t help that the awakening occurred at the business end of a thrown pillow. “Get up, Romeo. You owe me rent money.”
He did, slowly, queasily hitting a shower, sore all over, his skin mottled from bug bites. But nothing topped the glorious agony of a bourbon hangover like the one that had him firmly in its evil grasp.
He slouched out the door, cursing Antony, cursing Tricia, cursing her ex-husband for throwing her in his path last night. But mostly cursing his own weak-ass uselessness. He rested his head against the cool comfort of the truck window until Antony hit a bump or two, which sent extra pain jolting down his spine.
“Sorry,” his brother muttered, glancing over at him.
“No, you’re not.”
“Got me there. And you’d better warn me if you’re about to toss your cookies. I won’t have that in my vehicle, got me?”
Aiden rubbed his neck and nodded, swallowing the urge to throw up all over the pristine interior on principal. “Why d’you hate me so much? You used to like me.” He stared over at his brother, heart thumping, ears humming, throat closing up with nausea. He despised waking up still drunk.
“I don’t hate you.” Antony turned onto the main road headed into town.
“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a real asshole anymore. Worse than Dom.”
Antony merely shrugged, not rising to that tried-and-true bait. So they spent the rest of the ride to the garage in silence. Once there, Antony sat gripping the wheel. Aiden waited, hoping he’d get something out of him—something he would assure him that the man he thought he remembered as the protective, funny, and loving guy he’d grown up with still existed inside the guy walking around wearing Antony’s skin.
Finally, he let go of the wheel, exhaled, and squared his shoulders as if prepping for battle. Aiden made a mental note to talk to Kieran about how badly Antony had descended into his life of non-stop mourning and jerk-hood.
“So, Rosalee, not putting out for you or what? You need to get laid maybe? Knock the edge off?”
The glare Aiden got for saying those particular words did make him worry Antony might punch his aching head through the passenger-side window.
He clenched his jaw in the way Aiden remembered from their childhood. “That is so far outside the realm of your business as to be in another galaxy. Get to work and don’t say her name to me again.”
And with that, Aiden was left with the fleeting thought that mentioning Rosalee directly was probably not a good idea. He surely didn’t need Antony to guess that her name was on his lips, or front and center of his mind.
He shook his head—a Bad Plan because it summoned the pounding agony back with a vengeance. Groaning, he climbed out and shuffled over to the door.
A new day began at Love Garage.
The pre-order link for Love Garage, the first book in the Love Brothers Series, is http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P4GJCL8
The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.
When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.
Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.
Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.
COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game.
Enjoy an excerpt from Coach Love:
As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer–one of his favorite seasons–were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves made him smile.
“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”
He waved and drove on, gratified but sad, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of four lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.
It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.
He’d been home and recuperating from radical knee surgery with the best prognosis he could hope for after such a nasty break–to walk normally, much less play the occasional pick up game. His depression had been deep, wide, and terrifying. He woke every day at his parents’ house, unwilling even to get out of bed, not that he could without help for the first few weeks.
Antony had tossed a laptop computer at him one day when he’d been sulking, unshaven, and eating an entire bag of potato chips, something he’d not done since the age of ten when his fate–bound for basketball fame and fortune–had been determined.
“Here, find a job, find a date, find something,” he’d said before yanking the empty chip bag away and smacking Kieran’s head hard enough to make his ears ring.
“Ow. Leave me alone, asshole. I’m grievously injured,” he’d said, not caring about the swear-free zone he inhabited.
“That’s three dollars young man,” his mother had called out from the kitchen.
“You live with this, jerk, and see how you feel about finding ‘a date.’“ He’d hooked his fingers around the words, heart in his throat at how badly he’d wanted to call Cara right then.
But by the next weekend he was caning and limping his way toward the door to some faux-fancy Italian restaurant in Lexington, rubbing his freshly shaved face and trying not to sweat through his dress shirt. The woman from the internet site sat at the bar, twirling an olive-laden swizzle stick in her martini glass, long, slim, bare legs crossed, feet encased in sky-high patent leather heels. He’d exhaled, beyond relived that he’d not been cat-fished by some troll, or worse, a dude.
He’d hesitated then, something in him telling him to turn around and leave, fast. But at that moment, she’d flashed him the whitest, most perfect smile he’d ever seen and he’d been hooked. He still didn’t know how. They’d gone out for three weeks before she let him kiss her. It’d been another three weeks before he got anywhere near her tits. It had been a solid four months before he scored but that encounter had been, in a word, epic.
Melinda liked to talk dirty, wear heels and a garter belt while he fucked her. Loved doing it with all the lights on and in semi-public places. She gave head like a pro at first, before he’d given her an engagement ring.
Her bitchiness had come across as extreme decisiveness, sort of hot in way, he’d admit, since he tended toward the spontaneous and unplanned–”wishy washy” as he now understood it thanks to Melinda’s re-categorization of his personality. Her tight grip on her emotions and her surroundings, the OCD way she ordered her life did grate on him at times but he figured she tolerated his innate sloppiness and willingness to wake on a Sunday without a plan in place for the rest of the day. When he realized he sat across from her at some overpriced, hipster restaurant near her office after going out with her for eight months, ready to present her with a ring he could barely afford, it had shocked him without seeming to even faze her.
“Well, of course I’ll marry you, but you’ve got to find a better job,” she’d drawled as she sipped her champagne.
“A new job?” He’d gotten the teaching gig at his old high school and couldn’t imagine any job he’d want or like better. She made six figures for Christ’s sake, at least he thought she did.
Elated, drunk with lust and achievement, he’d tried to get his long legs adjusted under the small table jammed between all the others and covered with small plates of “tapas” which, best he could tell were “appetizers” only twice the price and half the helpings.
“I’ll do anything you want, Melinda. You saved me, honest to God you did.”
She’d fluttered her inky black lashes and gazed at him with an expression that convinced him he’d made the drastic move for the right reasons. The following year had been a combination of frustration, anger and high school level blue balls. The double drama Antony and Aiden had foisted on the Love family during that time hadn’t helped but it had distracted him. He’d taught his classes, helped out with the basketball team pro bono without telling Melinda and had been happier than he’d ever been as a pro athlete.
The fact that she maintained her uber-bitch persona around his family killed him. But he was hooked.
Still.
Mostly.
Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.
While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.
Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.
Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.
Enjoy a pre-edited excerpt from Love Brewing:
Dominic would give anything be able to talk to Kieran. They’d gotten close in the last months since he’d required a rather alarming rescue from a jail down in Georgia and his brother had shown up, very few questions asked. But no, Kieran had his own issues and likely at that very moment was busy trying to convince his high school girlfriend to marry him, even as she stood dressed and ready to marry someone else.
He had to squeeze his eyes tight shut to banish images of Kent for the zillionth time.
“You need dry clothes,” Diana said, interrupting his pity party.
He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the view of rain. “Your garden looks like shit. When’s the last time you bothered to pull weeds?”
She snorted. He smiled. He used to love it when she’d do that. He’d honestly had no intention of showing up here today. The Brantley farm remained way off the beaten track, if the track around Lucasville could be considered “beaten” in any way. When he’d raced out of the stifling hot sanctuary and hotwired Kieran’s car he’d driven off without a single thought in his addled head other than “escape.”
But when he’d finally released his death grip on the steering wheel he’d looked through the windshield and found himself facing the old two-story farmhouse where he’d lost his virginity—not to Diana but to her sister Jen, an older version of the girl he’d been hanging around with since God was a boy. The whooshing sound that had deafened him for the last couple of days had receded ever so slightly at the sight of the place.
He’d not been anywhere near it in over six years, ever since he’d run out here to find Diana when Gina had bolted for New York. Her reaction to his surprise visit had been decidedly less hostile then. He groaned and ran a hand down his wet face.
No one to blame but yourself for this reception, numb nuts.
As if on cue, the dog whined and bumped his leg with its huge muzzle.
“Bossy bitch,” he said softly, giving her another scratch behind the ears. The animal gazed at him adoringly. Yeah, dogs always did love him. He glanced up and caught sight of Diana tugging on a shirt that looked way too big for her. The sight of it sent a thrill of something he didn’t want to acknowledge as jealousy down his spine.
You have less than no place being jealous of anything about her, he reminded himself. She stared at him as she buttoned up the light blue, obviously man-sized shirt. He had to restrain himself from blinking too fast at the onrushing memories that threatened to mow him down.
“Put on a few pounds eh Di?” he said, leaning back against the rough barn wall. The dog practically crawled up onto the hay bale and laid its head in his lap. Damn thing weighed over eighty pounds and smelled like rancid pond water, but he didn’t stop it.
“Fuck you,” she said, turning away and giving him a lovely view of the backs of her slim, tanned legs. “Come up to the house and get some dry clothes on, you dumbass.” She stood there, wearing that shirt that made his chest hurt, pondering where it had come from, her legs bare and beautiful. It made him want to weep. He set his jaw and turned away from her.
“I missed you and your ladylike ways,” he said, almost absently, as he turned back to study the rain that pounded the window. “Ow!” The towel pop flicked his neck, then his thigh. “Damn girl, you on your period or what?” He rubbed his leg and noted that he was, indeed, soaked through and could use a change of clothes. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that when he ran away from what remained of his former life.
“I can feel your crybaby BS from clear across this barn,” she said.
He turned fast, angry at her words. But her gaze comforted him. And suddenly, he realized why he’d found himself here, on what could be labeled as the worst day of his sorry-ass thirty years.
“How’d marriage work out for ya,” he said, shoving the dog off his lap and getting to his feet.
“How d’you think? I mean, I’m sure it was the talk of the town.” She kept staring at him, not moving. For a split second, Dom found himself headed toward her, needing to feel her skin, taste her lips. But he stood, keeping the four or so feet between them, the dogs milling around their ankles making worried noises. An errant drop of water fell from a lock of hair over his eyes. The moment felt fraught and he cursed himself for causing her pain, again. And again.
“Well, I guess the guy was lucky to escape with his balls intact,” he said, finally. “You’re still as ugly as homemade sin,” he lied.
The corner of her lips lifted. He let himself exhale.
It was on now. And he knew she’d let him stay here as long as he needed.
COMING LATE SUMMER 2015!!
About the Author:
Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe lives Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Website:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor
Facebook Group: www.facebook.com/groups/lizcrowefans
Twitter: www.twitter.com/beerwencha2
Beer Wench Blog: www.a2beerwench.com
Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/Liz-Crowe/e/B00573TC7M
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November 1, 2014
My Vampires are Viral Mutations of DNA — Possible?
In my mythos, my vampires never died to be resurrected corpses. They are mutants, a virus having altered their mortal DNA into immortals with powers greater than their original human selves. Interestingly enough, I found the information below on the internet. My viral mutations are actually possible (maybe not to the extent in my books yet still within reason):
Date: January 8, 2010
Source: University of Texas at Arlington
Summary:
“About eight percent of human genetic material comes from a virus and not from our ancestors, according to a new study. The research shows that the genomes of humans and other mammals contain DNA derived from the insertion of bornaviruses, RNA viruses whose replication and transcription takes place in the nucleus.”
In the 2000s, a scientist at the University of Michigan studied people with HIV and found other viruses in the blood of these subjects. Surprisingly, these viruses came from within the patients’ own DNA.
Retroviruses, including HIV, share three common genes: gag, which gives rise to the inner shell that stores the virus’s genes; env makes knobs on the outer surface of the virus, allowing it to adhere to the cells and invade them; and finally pol. The latter makes an enzyme which introduces the virus’s genes into the host cell’s DNA.
Actually, the human genome contains segments of DNA matching pol, env, and gag. Scientists have found sizeable quantity of retrovirus DNA in our genes, in fact, as stated above, eight percent of the human genome. Both in human and other species, studies of these endogenous retroviruses reveal that they have genetically merged with the human DNA. Retroviruses regularly infected our ancestors, but rarely infected sperm or an egg, but when they did, they managed to permeate an embryo, new cells in the embryo inheriting the retrovirus DNA. When the child grew into an adult and produced offspring, the DNA of the virus was transmitted as well.
So, Morgan, Lucien and Sterling could possibly exist.
Happy Saturday! You have viral altered DNA. :-)
October 29, 2014
Dragon by James Austin McCormick
Author is holding a contest for a free paperback copy of the book at
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJamesAustinMcCormick?sk=app_512541485429310
An author referred by a reviewer friend of mine would like to share an excerpt of his riveting novel, Dragon:
Chapter 1
The Legacy of Suleiman
Asmara was a small desert moon orbiting its gas giant parent at a distance just great enough to put it outside the planet’s radioactive reach. It was a cold, dusty little place, barely capable of supporting microbic life. Yet it did have one thing in its favor, its location. Asmara was in the gray zone, an area of space almost central to the six worlds. None dared lay claim to it and consequently it was free of all outside authority. That was why the crime syndicates built their Pleasure Dome there, and in the two decades after the Dark Age Wars it flourished.
It was here, at one of the casino tables, the last three players of a merciless card game studied their hands. Two of them, a human and a reptilian Tuolon, were far from happy, glaring angrily at the third player as he whistled out a tuneless melody. If Sillow had been human, he would have been judged to be no more than fourteen. He wasn’t; he was a Sylvan, and his childlike face and adolescent build were quite normal for his twenty-five years.
As he looked over his cards from beneath a shock of dark green hair, only his large eyes were visible. It was just as well, for his lips moved frantically as he mentally played through the possible scenarios.
Finally he gave a little nod and placed his cards face down. He took his cigar from the ashtray and began puffing heavily on it. The human, a skinny man with pockmarked features, ran a hand over two day’s stubble,
“Make your damn move,” he growled. “If you’ve got the goods, show them.”
Sillow shrugged. “Hey, give me a break Garrick,” he replied in his soft, musical voice. “You can’t rush something like this.”
He looked at his cards again, studying them as he blew smoke rings in the air. His little feet tapped all the while on the hard marble floor.
His fellow players regarded him with extreme irritation, and the human came to the decision the Sylvan was playing mind games with them. The truth though was far different. Sillow was scared and was trying to decide how best to safely extricate himself and the credits he needed from his present circumstances.
Although he couldn’t say why, he was certain now the Tuolon was a professional assassin here to kill him. His would be killer even blew his ship up to stop him escaping.
Since then the little Sylvan had been busy at the tables making the money he needed to get a freighter off the Dome. There was a royal summons to answer and he’d delayed too long already. The message was just one word, Suleiman.
“Okay, ready,” he finally announced. “You want to see this hand it’ll cost you…” he paused for effect, “six more credits.”
The human thought hard for a moment, shook his head then threw the chips into the pot in the middle of the table.
“Damn your pointy green ears,” he growled. “You take me on this hand and I lose the whole pay from my last haul.”
Sillow turned to the Tuolon. “What about you, En’n?” he asked, knowing his reptilian companion was more than out of his depth. The leathery area around the Tuolon’s eyes tightened and he opened his canine like jaws to reply. His physiology prevented him from forming Amalgam words, the common language used between the races. Instead he was forced to rely on the electronic collar at his neck.
“Not enough credits,” he answered in a synthesized voice, “but stay, watch.”
Sillow shook his head. “Sorry. You know the rules. You fold, you leave.” He waved his cigar towards the exit.
“Bye.”
“Stay,” the reptile hissed.
“Can’t do that,” Sillow told him.
The Tuolon thrust a clawed finger at the Sylvan. “I do not take orders from a weak creature like you,”
Sillow blew a cloud of smoke directly at the huge reptile. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to.”
The Tuolon’s lip curled away from his razor teeth. “I will…”
“What?” Sillow asked, placing a shaking hand to his cigar as he feigned a calmness he didn’t feel. “You’ll kill me?”
The Tuolon’s anger was growing, Sillow realized; now was the moment to push him past his limited self-restraint.
“Get lost!” he said.
The human gasped, pushing his chair away from the table. The Tuolon got to his feet, his powerful frame shaking with fury. “I will kill you,” he hissed.
Sillow felt his heart beating like a jack hammer. He was ready to bolt at the reptile’s slightest move. A faint hum of a sentinel though told him his plan was working. The spherical droid appeared above them.
Sensors flashed as it monitored everything in its immediate environment, heart rate, respiration, hormonal skin level. Its three red optics trained on the Tuolon.
“You have indicated a desire to commit violence,” it stated in a cold, metallic voice. “Is this assessment correct?”
The reptile stared up at the black sphere. “Not correct,” he answered, nostrils flaring. “No threat.” His chest heaved as he answered.
“No threat here,” Sillow added, reaching over and giving the assassin a pat on the arm.
“My friend though was under the impression you can remain at the table even if you aren’t playing.”
“Negative,” the sentinel replied. It positioned itself in front of the Tuolon, laser banks flashing dangerously. “State your intention,” it ordered.“Do you wish to continue with your hand or fold?”
With a huge effort the Tuolon sat down. “Play,” he replied.
Sillow looked the reptile over. “What can you bet with?” he asked.
He leaned back, tapping a finger on his cheek. “You’re almost out credits. How about jewelry?” He looked at En’n’s simple animal hide armor, “no.” He frowned, then snapped his fingers. “I know,” he announced, pretending the idea had just come to him, “your ship.” The Tuolon gave a start.
Sillow took a puff on the cigar. “Yeah, I could really do with one, you see…” He fixed the Tuolon with a meaningful look. “Some scum bag blew mine up.”
“Do you agree to this wager?” the Sentinel asked in its emotionless voice.
Sillow watched En’n’s discomfort with satisfaction. The Tuolon, he knew, could not afford to lose his ship, but he could also not afford to let his prey out of his sight either. It was, after all, frustration with his elusive quarry which forced him to the card table in the first place.
The Tuolon nodded, fury burning in his black eyes. “Okay,” he said. “I bet.”
Sillow turned to the human. “You’re a witness to this right, Garrick?”
The man sighed. “Guess so,” he replied.
“I am also a witness to the wager,” the sentinel added. “If the Sylvan wins the hand, the docking bay computer will be informed the ship has a new owner.”
There was a pause, small lights flashing as the sentinel conveyed the message.
“Proceed.”
The man gave a shrug of his bony shoulders. “What the hell,” he groaned. He threw his cards down, four of a kind. The Tuolon gave a soft grunt then threw down a superior straight. The man let out a despairing cry and slumped back in his chair.
Sillow’s childlike face was unreadable. He shrugged and scratched his cheek in an absent minded way as he regarded the cards in front of him. “Oh, well,”he said after some moments, “guess that makes me the winner.” He flashed his reptilian opponent a smile then laid down a royal flush.
En’n froze, unblinking. His chest rose and fell dangerously, and his fists clenched so tightly his claws cut into his palms. The sentinel, Sillow knew, would be monitoring all this. It was time to push his adversary over the edge. He took a long draw on his cigar and blew a stream of smoke in his direction.
“Bad luck, En’n, and so long,” he said scooping the pile of credits towards him. He put them into the leather pouch around his waist.
“How do you say it in Tuolon? Ah, yes…” he finished putting the last of the credits away and leaned forward. “Ekarak,” he hissed in a bad imitation of the warrior farewell.
To the cold logic of the sentinel there was nothing provocative in these words, but Sillow knew such familiar language from one not of the Tuolon warrior caste would infuriate the reptile.
The assassin roared in fury and, forgetting all other considerations, swung at the Sylvan’s throat with his lethal claws. Sillow, however, with the quick reflexes of his race, backed out of range. En’n, his attempt frustrated, plunged into a berserker rage and began to swing out wildly in all directions.
Sillow pushed Garrick’s chair backwards, sending its occupant sprawling to the floor. En’n now lunged for
Sillow. Before he could close the distance though, the sentinel fired an energy bolt, sending the reptile crashing unconscious to the floor.
The black metallic body turned, a large optic focused on Sillow. “State your name and when you wish to depart.”
“Silla Low,” the Sylvan answered, “and I plan on leaving right now.”
A wave flickered over the sentinel as lights flashed on and off in succession. “I have made the arrangements. Take your winnings and depart.”
Sillow needed no prompting. He was about to leave when he caught the haunted, despairing expression on Garrick’s face. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a handful of credits, far more than the man was able to count.
“Tell you what,” he said, throwing them down onto the table. “I only stopped off at the Dome to pick up a fresh supply of cigars. How about you pick me up a couple months’ supply?”
The man, still flat on his back, managed a small nod.
Sillow wiped the sweat from his brow. “That should more than cover it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really have to be somewhere.”
~ * ~
The Tuolon ship was a sleek craft, built like a needle with a power core capable of great speed. He could make it to Sylvan in less than a day in this thing. There were, however, two big problems. The first was a good, working knowledge of the Tuolon language was necessary to operate the complex controls, as opposed to the few phrases he knew. The second was it was a two man ship, possibly three. There was no way he could pilot this thing alone.
Sillow gave a soft curse as he ran the problem through his mercurial mind. He brought a small fist down on the control panel in frustration. He had no choice but to hawk it at a low enough price to make a quick sale. Doing so, however, would mean more delay and danger too. The assassin En’n might be safely locked up, but whoever he was working with wasn’t.
Decision made, he rushed out of the craft and headed off in the direction of the barter quarters. The portcullis like doors opened automatically and Sillow rushed through. Two Tuolons were waiting for him. Smaller in stature than En’n and clearly not the fearsome killer their master was, they were nevertheless a frightening sight, especially for the diminutive Sylvan. The doors slammed shut behind him.
“The master’s ship,” one of them rasped. “Return it to us.” The reptile made a motion for him to step back inside. “Only you have access,” he went on, “give us the codes.”
Sillow realized it was all over if he did. What could he do? He’d never learned to fight and had no idea how to use the compact staff he carried on his belt. Even if he did, he seriously doubted he could have taken these two on anyway. His only advantage was his speed, but to make it work he needed to get some space between them and him.
“Computer,” he said, turning his head to speak into the voice com, “this is Silla Low,” he took a deep breath, then “…help!”
A warning siren sounded in response to his cry. The Tuolons panicked. One reached out to grab him, lunging forward. Sillow timed his move carefully. He jumped up onto his larger opponent’s outstretched leg and somersaulted over him.
Before either of the Tuolons could react, Sillow was sprinting away down the corridor. “Help!” he screamed again, this time at the top of his voice,“somebody…anybody.”
The Tuolons turned and raced after him but soon realized keeping up with their quarry amongst the labyrinthine corridors would be no easy matter.
Sillow never slowed, even as he heard his pursuers’ footsteps growing fainter behind him. Eventually though, curiosity overcame terror and he chanced a look behind him. He should have looked ahead for it was then he ran into the wall.
Author Bio
I’m a college lecturer from the rainy city of Manchester, England and have been writing speculative fiction for over a decade and a half, mostly science fiction, horror and a little fantasy. For me writing is all about escapism and imagination, the further a tale is from reality the more I enjoy it. Mostly I write short stories and novellas and have been fortunate enough to have had many of these published professionally. I also write short novels (40 000 to 60 000 words). My first science fiction novel and my ‘baby’ is called Dragon. I wrote the first draft of it ten or so years ago and since then it steadily evolved into the version published in October 2013 by Class Act Books. I’ve had three other works published since then with one more (another Dragon novel) to come out in November of this year.
Background to the novel:
Dragon grew out of two ill matched protagonists who’d been in my mind for a long time. One was a restless, reckless and neurotic elf and the other a taciturn, ill- tempered barbarian, think Conan without the brains or charm. Originally I planned to write a series of interlinking fantasy novellas following their adventures together. The tone was to be comedic and I intended them to be a sort of comedy double act, the elf the clownish figure and the barbarian the straight man, the foil as it were. Well, the characters developed a life of their own and survived, as did the interlinking format to follow their adventures but somehow the story seemed to work better with a science fiction spin. Because of this transition from fantasy to science fiction the novel took about a decade to fully evolve into its present manifestation. It does retain a strong fantasy element though and the two protagonists still travel around by Dragon, although a metallic one instead of the reptilian creature that existed in the original conception. The final chapter “Relics” blurs the lines completely between the world of magic and gods and science as an ancient mystery is finally answered. Although it would be next to impossible to write an actual sequel the twenty year time span the novel occupies allows me a lot of scope to write further tales around the same characters. I have a second novel, Dragon: Smuggler Tales coming out in November, a series of connected stories that take place in the year that elapses between chapters one and two of Dragon.
