Inversion Sneak Peek + A Huge Sci-Fi Sale
I hope this post finds you healthy and safe in this strange, surreal time. I’m enormously grateful to be able to report that for me, not too much about my daily life has changed, except that my husband is working from home (which has honestly been awesome), and my groceries are delivered to my door (which is nice, if not my preference).
But I know for many of you, this lockdown hasn’t been easy or comfortable, and I want to give you a small treat today—a reward for hanging in there and not murdering your family and pets or burning down your neighborhood. I can't get the next book into your hands any faster, but I can give you a little glimpse at it—so here are two excerpts from my upcoming novel, INVERSION:
CAVEAT: The excerpts contain some pretty major spoilers for CONTINUUM, so if you haven’t finished reading it yet, save this email for later.
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EXCERPT 1:
A Savrakath in military field attire stopped in front of Malcolm’s cell with a hiss. “You are awake. We thought you might die. A surprise that Humans are so frail and fragile.”
“I might still die if you don’t treat this wound. It’s infected.”
“Infection is good for the soul. It tests the body. Strengthens it, if it can pass the trial.”
“Well, I’m not Savrakath, so I’d as soon skip the trial. I’m also no good to you dead. A little antiseptic would go a long way toward keeping me alive.”
The Savrakath sniffed the air. “Prove your worth to us. Give us the name and location of an important but soft Concord target, and we will treat your wounds.”
Prove your worth to us. They didn’t know who he was? Because he’d been on the assault team like a complete moron,* they must have assumed he was just a ground-pounder.
His presence here, in their custody, gave them more valuable leverage in the conflict with Concord than any hordes of intel he could (but never would) provide, but they didn’t know what they had.
An image of Mia flashed into his mind, stunning in a white silk robe, her long raven hair whipping around her face on the balcony of the suite they’d rented for their unofficial anniversary three months earlier. The urge to utter a meager few words overwhelmed him, and only his Marine training stilled his tongue. Provide his name and rank, and he’d become a high-stakes bargaining chip—and also the best-treated prisoner housed in whatever gulag this was. His wound would be treated post-haste, because the Savrakaths would no longer risk him dying.
But Concord would need to weaken their position in the conflict to trade for him, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. Duty and honor before self. Semper fidelis.
