Archive for the ‘Science Fiction’ Category



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Transference

by Ian Patterson

 

Publication date: October 1st 2024
Genres: Adult, Dystopian, Science Fiction

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Nicholas Fiveboroughs is a Sicko, someone that takes on others’ illnesses. In a city where diseases can be transferred, the rich buy longer lives without pain, and the poor get a short life of constant sickness. Maybe it was fate, or maybe someone is looking out for him, but after Nicholas barely survives his latest affliction, he gets the chance to try and change things. To finally stop the whole disease transfer network.

Tensions escalate as Nicholas infiltrates a higher society he doesn’t understand, and starts to fall for the very person he needs to manipulate to be successful. And between run-ins with a talking animal and genetically modified humans, the world around him just keeps getting stranger. Can Nicholas tear down the disease transfer architecture? And can he do it without losing his own humanity along the way?

Goodreads / Amazon

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Enjoy this peek inside:

The Disease Transfer Machine, or the Box as we call it down here, was invented some time before the city. It’s always existed here, the primary thing shaping our lives. It sounds noble at first, the elimination of disease, until you realize it only works that way if you can afford it. For those of us in the lower levels, it’s the thing killing us. It’s the only job we can find. It’s the poison that we can’t stop eating.

Do I know how it works? Not a fucking clue. One person sits on each side of the giant metal box, various tubes extend from it and connect to each of them. There’s a giver’s seat and a receiver’s seat, and no one else in the room when they turn the thing on. It’s a strangely intimate thing, sitting across the room from your destroyer. There’s a feeling of great suction all over your body, and then the misery sets in. The symptoms start like a bucket of ice water dumped on your shoulders. I’ve always wondered what a great relief it must feel like on the other side.

The backbone of our economy is built on it. The very rich trade their diseases to the very poor for appropriate compensation agreed on by both parties. But realistically, when you’re poor enough you’re too constrained to know what appropriate compensation is. Some people have tried to create laws around it, establishing contractual requirements and base pay for different diseases. They don’t mean much though, there was always someone willing to go under the base pay, there was always someone that needed the money badly enough to take the risk. Laws just give the illusion that what’s happening is fair. Of course, it’s not.

This new caste of people, the perpetually ill, were lovingly nicknamed Sickos. The working poor hated them for the ease they got their money, the middle class decried the horrors of rampant capitalism they represented, and everyone tried to buy their services when their own bill came due.

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About Author Ian Patterson:

Ian Patterson is many things. Importantly here, he’s the author of Transference, Book One of the Narrator Cycle. He’s also an engineer, cyclist, foodie, coffee lover, cat dad, human dad, and reader of books. Preferably, thick books that deal with strange things and big ideas. He’s dreamed of being an author for decades, but finally began the journey with the birth of his first daughter. This is an objectively terrible time to start work that requires quiet concentration, and he knows it, but he loves the chaos nonetheless. He lives in Colorado with his wonderful family.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Stellar Heir organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Scott Killian will award a $2o Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Stellar Heir

by Scott Killian

 

 

Genre: Science Fiction

Synopsis

Jael Ked’Korhva hadn’t anticipated becoming the galaxy’s most wanted.

He hadn’t planned on picking up a strange alien artifact, either, but once it was clasped around his wrist, Jael was granted extraordinary abilities. His senses were heightened, his reflexes faster, and he could now regenerate from damage that would spell the end for others, which was a boon, considering he was just a derelict scavenger.

That was until forces from every corner of the stars wanted Jael’s artifact for themselves, and they’ll stop at nothing to take it back. What initially appears as a boon swiftly transforms into a weighty charge. Yet, it’s a charge Jael accepts without hesitation, understanding the catastrophic potential should the relic fall into the wrong hands.

Prodded onward by visions of an ancient ally and a mysterious enemy, Jael becomes a pivotal piece in a vast interstellar play of power and dominion.

An action-packed space opera, perfect for science fiction fans of Sun Eater by Christopher Ruocchio or The Mercy of Gods by James S. A. Corey.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Silence fell over the derelict ship.

An ominous drone vibrated through the ship’s hull that Jael could feel beneath his feet and then the cargo hold was violently breached. A searing streak of plasma sliced through the hull, disintegrating the sturdy alloy walls as though they were made of paper. An Archon corpse floated by Jael, their helmet and head nothing more than a smoldering clump of matter vitrified to their pressure suit.

The other Archons unleashed a barrage of gunfire. Emerging from the breach, Mortuum biobots slithered into the cargo hold—serpentine constructs of metal and flesh, each limb a deadly weapon, protecting their central brain encased in layers of plasticrete casing.

Jael took a deep breath in and steeled himself for combat.

“Shoot the fraxxing things!” Garlial yelled over the comms, firing wildly at the biobots. His shots were haphazard, more out of fear than strategy.

A biomechanical tendril whipped over Jael. Garlial dove onto the floor to avoid it, dropping his rifle in the process. Their gazes locked and Garlial sneered, scrambling to grab his weapon.

Jael kicked away the rifle just before Garlial got his hands on it. He pushed off the floor, turning his body as he snapped out another kick and it connected with Garlial’s helmet. Jael drew his pistol and fired.

Garlial rolled and the beam barely missed him. He lurched forward, grasping the pistol before Jael could fire again and eject the lens cartridge.

Pulling free, Jael twisted himself around, positioning himself on Garlial’s back. He brought the pistol up and slammed it into Garlial’s helmet. Jael raised it again but leaped off and rolled as a wayward arc of plasma from a biobot raced toward him.

“Fraxxing scav!” Garlial scrambled to his feet and tipped a crate towards Jael.

Jael swung his body around and hopped up, avoiding the crate entirely. Garlial drew a combat knife from a panel on his thigh and slashed at Jael. With the palm of his hand on Garlial’s wrist, Jael stopped his attack. He grasped the inside of Garlial’s armored cuff and pulled him in close.

Jael dropped his weight on Garlial’s arm, and he felt the limb snap.

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About Author Scott Killian:

Scott Killian grew up in California where he consumed every bit of sci-fi and horror media he could find. Delving deep into the works of Thomas Harris, Stephen King and H. P. Lovecraft to name a few, those dark portals in his mind were opened and his obsession with the macabre began. Story telling, in any form, is his greatest passion.

Author Links: Facebook / Twitter / Email / Newsletter

Book Link: Amazon

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Welcome to My 31 Days Of Thrills And Chills 2024! I missed doing this the last couple of years due to Covid and so excited to do it again. I’ll be sharing reviews and lots of extra spooky stuff every day leading up to Halloween. I hope you’ll join me!

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Free Computer Seeks photo and picture

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I’m sharing all kinds of books, movies, and other spooky stuff for every day in October. Gots to get those scares on for the 31st!

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 Yuletide Invasion

by J.C. Moore

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Genre: Horror / Short Stories / Science Fiction /

c8df8-add2bto2bgoodreads2bblack

MY REVIEW

I could tell the author had the same love for B-movie horror and science fiction just by looking at the cover. Take a look at it. So cool!

The book is short so it’s going to be a short review. Don’t want to spoil it for you.

Baby, it’s cold outside. And the creature is stirring. I love wintry settings where the weather plays a pivotal role. And when the people gather together for warmth and safety. That’s where those group dynamics come out to play. I’m always into seeing who does what. And let’s not forget the creature. I probably shouldn’t tell you this but, I couldn’t wait for it to make an appearance and see what it would do.

Something fun. I was watching Dark Was The Night while writing this review. A blizzard is coming. The people gather for warmth and safety. And something monstrous is coming. Made this story even creepier. And I love creepy.

4 STARS

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Synopsis

A blizzard pounds upstate New York. The wind moans and the never stopping snow…and blood…pile up.
The weather forces strangers from different walks of life to shelter from the storm as a monstrous creature crashes their festivities. The being inhabits the bodies of the slain like a malicious virus.

This isn’t a night for Santa and children’s smiles as evil delivers a whole new meaning to a “night before Christmas!”

Amazon

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Click on the covers for more Thrills And Chills reviews.

 

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

,

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Stellar Heir organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Scott Killian will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Stellar Heir

by Scott Killian

 

 

Genre: Science Fiction

Synopsis

Jael Ked’Korhva hadn’t anticipated becoming the galaxy’s most wanted.

He hadn’t planned on picking up a strange alien artifact, either, but once it was clasped around his wrist, Jael was granted extraordinary abilities. His senses were heightened, his reflexes faster, and he could now regenerate from damage that would spell the end for others, which was a boon, considering he was just a derelict scavenger.

That was until forces from every corner of the stars wanted Jael’s artifact for themselves, and they’ll stop at nothing to take it back. What initially appears as a boon swiftly transforms into a weighty charge. Yet, it’s a charge Jael accepts without hesitation, understanding the catastrophic potential should the relic fall into the wrong hands.

Prodded onward by visions of an ancient ally and a mysterious enemy, Jael becomes a pivotal piece in a vast interstellar play of power and dominion.

An action-packed space opera, perfect for science fiction fans of Sun Eater by Christopher Ruocchio or The Mercy of Gods by James S. A. Corey.

~~~~~

About Author Scott Killian:

Scott Killian grew up in California where he consumed every bit of sci-fi and horror media he could find. Delving deep into the works of Thomas Harris, Stephen King and H. P. Lovecraft to name a few, those dark portals in his mind were opened and his obsession with the macabre began. Story telling, in any form, is his greatest passion.

Author Links: Facebook / Twitter / Email / Newsletter 

Purchase Link: Amazon

~~~~~

Giveaway contest ribbon promo label prize. Vector giveaway banner badge design template

a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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A typical night of partying leaves Daniel Blair with far more than a hangover.

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Wicked Tongue

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by C.L. Schneider

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Genre: Alien Horror, Science Fiction

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Finding the wicked thing inside him was only the beginning.

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A typical night of partying leaves Daniel Blair with far more than a
hangover. His myriad of strange symptoms defies explanation, as does
the blood on his pillow. And something is very wrong with
his tongue.

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Afraid he contracted a terrible unknown
illness, Daniel seeks help. But his frantic search for answers takes
a horrifying turn. Struck by violent impulses, and compelled by a
cryptic voice in his head, he commits unspeakable acts. He struggles
to fight back, but something is growing inside him, changing him,
breaking his mind.

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As his life spirals out of control,
Daniel discovers the “invasion” of his body has a purpose more
insidious and far-reaching than he could ever imagine. One Earth
isn’t ready for—and might not survive.

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Amazon
* Bookbub
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At first glance, he found nothing: no bruises or cuts to indicate a fight. Not even a split lip. Red veined across his eyes. Their bloodshot, puffy appearance was much worse than normal but not entirely out of the ordinary for excess alcohol and lack of sleep. Daniel wasn’t a kid anymore. Maybe it was time to admit that and listen to what his body was telling him.

And yet, instinct still said it was more. Something else was wrong.

A hangover doesn’t make your throat swell, he thought, turning his head side to side, noticing the slight bulging on both sides of his neck.

He leaned closer to the mirror. Parting only his lips, he kept his teeth closed for a thorough check. None were missing. No chips. Thank God. Daniel ran a finger over the outside of his back teeth with no surprises. So far so good. Next, he inspected the inside of his cheeks. He found no cuts but several small lumps of swelling, like he’d bitten the sides of his mouth. While I was sleeping? Or when I fell?

If he bit down hard enough, it might explain the blood.

Except, the tissue was whole with no lacerations. Any wounds able to cause such a large stain on his pillow would still be open and painful.

This doesn’t make any sense.

Saliva gathered rapidly, begging him to swallow, filling his mouth with the same foul taste as before. Why wouldn’t it stop? Jesus Christ, I’m slobbering like a rabid dog.

Annoyed at his numerous odd ailments, Daniel bent and spat in the sink. As he watched the red stringy glob slide down the drain, irritation turned to uncertainty, to outright fear.

The blood had to be coming from somewhere.

He looked in the mirror again and opened his mouth. Relief at finding no piercing faded at the sight of his tongue. It was severely swollen and discolored, almost purple.

Did I bite it? I must have. When I fell, he decided again.

Daniel concentrated, struggling to force the memory of what happened into his mind. He and Caleb shared a cab from the diner. He remembered that much. Streetlights blurred as the car drove across town, wind blowing in the open window. Did the driver hit someone?

Maybe I smacked my face on the window?

He tried to conjure a blurry flash of something, anything, to confirm the cause.

Come on, damn it. Think!

There was nothing. Not even a notion of getting hurt.

Daniel moved his tongue side to side, grimacing as pain radiated through his entire mouth and down into his throat. He stared closer, eyes widening as they focused on his dangling uvula, shrunken and shriveled like a raisin. Holy shit. What could cause that?

A pang of hunger twisted through his gut. His stomach demanded food, but how was he supposed to eat when swallowing his own spit was a challenge.

Blood seeped out from under his tongue. Is that the source?

Daniel prepared himself for the discomfort and raised it to look underneath, expecting to discover nothing but the cut he’d been looking for. Finding something else entirely, he cried out, jumping back from the sink with a startled, garbled, “What the …?”

Pulse racing, chest heaving, he stared at his own horrified visage in the mirror—praying for what he saw not to be real. It’s a trick of the light. A shadow. That’s all it is.

Please, God, let that be all it is.

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C. L. Schneider is an award-winning author of immersive fantasy fiction,
including
The Crown of Stones Trilogy and the Nite Fire Series.
While fantasy is her main focus, she also pens the occasional horror
or apocalyptic tale. Born in a small Kansas town, Schneider resides
in New York’s scenic Hudson Valley Region with her husband and two
sons. To learn more about the worlds she creates, please visit her
website at
www.clschneiderauthor.com
or connect with C. L. Schneider on social media, where she is an
active part of the indie author community.

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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 ATOMICA – BETWEEN SEA AND SKY, is a compelling saga of love, duty,
and sacrifice set against the stunning backdrop of a lush tropical
island— where the line between hero and villain blurs in the
shadows of a forgotten world.

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Atomica – Between Sea and Sky

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Atomica Book 1

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by Heather McKenzie

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Genre: YA SciFi Fantasy Romance

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 “Never judge based on appearances. Sometimes the most unassuming
can be the deadliest.”

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A compelling saga
of love, duty, and sacrifice set against the stunning backdrop of a
lush tropical island—where the line between hero and villain blurs
in the shadows of a forgotten world…

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In a land
ravaged by ancient vendettas, nineteen-year-old Eva has vowed to
protect Zoleya, a petite, blue-eyed girl with a powerful gift. But
when a catastrophic shipwreck strands her on a mysterious tropical
island and Zoleya disappears, Eva is forced to abandon her duty and
form alliances with a group of castaways to survive. While facing the
island’s perils and a corrupt band of Raiders intent on her
capture, Eva fights to reclaim her title as Zoleya’s
Guardian.

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Kade Thorn, a hunter programmed to seek and
destroy all remnants of forbidden technology, battles his opposing
impulses. Bound by ancient markings etched into his skin that incite
violence, he finds himself torn between blindly obeying his directive
or pursuing a powerful attraction to Eva, knowing either choice will
get him killed.

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Forced to rely on each other, Eva and Kade
seek refuge deep within the island’s jungle and become conflicted
about where their loyalties lie. Will they find their way back to
their predetermined paths or forge a new destiny together? The fate
of Zoleya—the catalyst to either save the world or destroy it—hangs
in the balance.

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Amazon
* Apple
* B&N
* Kobo
* Smashwords
* Bookbub
* Goodreads

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I had no idea how many days had passed when the ship began losing battle with a raging storm. All of us being held captive by the Raiders had gone through hell and back already, so this was an additional layer of torture. We were all hurting and scared to bits, yet the sea couldn’t care less—it was going to drown us one way or another.

And maybe that was a blessing.

As I watched Zoleya from across the cage, water began dripping down from the oily planks overhead and between the unbreakable iron bars. We were in the belly of the ship, the women cowering in the corner either praying or crying, and the men moaning in agony and fear. I was helpless to do anything, only able to watch dried blood turn to tiny red rivers on Zoleya’s skin as she became soaked to the bone. Our journey across Aldira had been hellacious, to say the least, but being responsible for the state she was in felt worse than a million knives slicing up my heart. I was supposed to protect her, and I had failed.

“We’ll be okay,” said a doe-eyed woman with arms and legs thin as toothpicks. All her front teeth were broken, making her hard to understand. “The storm will pass soon.”

Normally I’d respect someone who was just trying to be comforting, but that was a bald-faced lie.

One of the men chained up across from me snorted in disgust. “Delusional,” he said and spat, adding to the slimy water lapping at our toes.

We could all hear the Raiders up on deck losing battle with the violent weather and churning seas, panic thick in their voices as they yelled “Secure the lashings” and “Man overboard.”

As water inched past our ankles and up our calves, Zoleya’s gaze met mine. The light from the quivering lanterns danced in her irises. She was so pale. The sky-blue sundress she favored torn and splattered with filth. Her long white hair hung loose down to her hips, clinging to her petite frame—I hadn’t had a chance to braid it for the day before we’d been captured.

“Calla is correct,” she said, agreeing simply to provide an extra ray of hope. But Zo was bad at lying. Her lip always quivered. “Things will be just fine. Our journey will come to an end soon,” she added.

Well, that was at least true. Soon we’d all be dead.

“If you mean that we’re going to drown, then so be it,” a giant of a man with sores all over his face practically growled at her. “I’d rather die at sea than on Cal de Mac. Drowning would be better than what the Raiders will put us through if we make it to their homeland.”

He was right. The women would be sold as slaves, and the men and I, with our wrists chained over our heads and ankles shackled together, would be forced to fight in the arenas until our last breath. Being captured by these thieves of the land and pirates of the sea was a certain death sentence, and I saw no way out.

The wind howled like a million wounded Black-Blooded, shrill and curling up tight to my eardrums. As the ship seemed to break apart, I thought of Mom, of Delia, and of Father, their graves dug deep in the toxic Aldiran dirt. Then I prayed to a god who never had a moment to spare for me, begging her to magically transport me back to the cabin with the little woodstove and bury my body next to theirs.

Those who were not chained up in the cage toppled into each other as the ship crested a wave before dipping sharply downward and then leveling out. Lightning crackled through the sky. Someone let out a heart-wrenching wail… I couldn’t just hang here like a carcass waiting to be gutted, I had to try to do something. Anything.

Tugging on my restraints caused the shackles to dig deep into my wrists. A sickly warmth trickled down my arms. I nearly passed out from the pain, but I kept tugging; at least I would die with honor trying to save Zoleya.  

“They can’t be barbaric enough to leave us down here to drown,” said a woman with a small child clinging to her legs.

A man across from me with black greasy curls let out a pained laugh. “Oh, but they are.” His voice was raw with hatred and his face was bruised, one eye nearly swollen shut. “Raiders are no better than the maggots swimming in your dinner.”

Crates full of stolen food, weapons, silks, and spices slammed into each other, releasing a plume of crushed cloves into the dank air. Someone up on deck shrieked and the wind shrieked back. I wondered if we had minutes. Seconds even. If I had to rip my hands off I would.

“Eva. Stop that, please,” Zoleya pleaded.

If I could only break some bones then maybe—

“Aye, stop for heaven’s sake!” said a massive man directly across from me with hair as red as the blood leaking from his broken nose. His skin was black with filth. His clothes were rags. “It’s bad enough we be trapped in here together. Watching ye torture yourself is making it worse. Besides, even if ye git free, there ain’t nothing a wee missy such as yourself can do. You be just a girl.”

My pulse throbbed at my temples; how many times had I heard that before? “Don’t you think there’s a reason I’m chained up like the rest of you?”

The redhead had some sort of answer perched on the tip of his tongue, but the sea spoke first. With another shriek, it dragged its salty claws along the sides of the ship, grabbed hold, and wrenched it to the left. A barrel tipped over, mixing brine and writhing squid into the rising water. More clearly than ever, we could hear the frantic voices of the crew dancing with death above while we waited for it below.

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 I am Canadian, born and raised in Alberta on a lovely acreage just
outside of Edmonton to musical parents. I began my arts career as a
musician, leaving home at the age of fifteen to play in a rock band,
then went on to become a singer/songwriter. I wrote songs and told
stories with melodies, lucky enough to tour Canada and record four
studio albums, as well as work as a studio musician. I spent years
singing my heart out. However, when I discovered the limitless
creativity of novel writing, I shifted my focus to a literary career.
My extraordinary experiences as a musician continue to fuel my
writing. I am deeply inspired by art and profoundly humbled by the
creativity of others. Creating is a fundamental part of my life, and
expressing myself through storytelling is incredibly important to me.
I strive to transport readers to different places or provide them
with a companion for three hundred pages, impacting them as my
favorite writers and artists have impacted me.

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I like to write
about deeply flawed characters with relatable struggles and how they
react in extraordinary circumstances. The Rocky Mountains and the
wonders of nature greatly inspire me, and I love to explore the
juxtaposition of these settings with urban landscapes. My novels are
characterized by action, adventure, lots of romance, and unexpected
twists. I like to put my characters in unique settings and fully
explore their motivations while drawing heavily on my personal
experiences.

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I am honored to be
represented by Elizabeth Winick Rubinstein of McIntosh and Otis, one
of the USA’s longest-running literary agencies, representing
remarkable authors such as the late John Steinbeck and Harper Lee. As
a ‘hybrid’ author, Elizabeth represents my adult works, while I
represent my young adult works. I am determined not to limit myself
to one specific genre and hope to follow in the footsteps of authors
who have achieved success this way, as I value the artistic freedom
it affords.

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At present, I have
four published novels; Serenade, Nocturne and Rhapsody, all which
have achieved bestseller status in digital sales. My newest novel,
Atomica: Between Sea and Sky, was just released on August 27, 2024,
and is the first book in a new young adult fantasy series.

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Website
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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

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~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Journey To The Dark Galaxy organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Hannah D. State will award a $10 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!

And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Journey To The Dark Galaxy

by Hannah D. State

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Genre: Science Fiction

Synopsis

A mysterious signal from deep space. Mischief and murder at a military base.

Earth’s leaders are given an ultimatum: deliver Sam Sanderson to Logom, a planet known to house a hostile AI civilization, or face interplanetary war.

When Sam receives a strange letter drafting her into the Great Alliance for Interplanetary Affairs as a matter of international security, she expects to get answers. But instead of receiving a warm welcome, she finds that most people under the surface are distant, cold, and have built walls of silence. While grappling with her unique power and the consequences of her actions, she learns that the organization she’s supposed to serve has a chilling past and guards a dark secret.

While Earth’s scientists scramble to defend their world and the planetary alliance from the AI threat, Sam is forced on a mission to the Dark Galaxy. A place where dangers lurk, tensions run high, and things are never what they seem.

But will the journey change her forever?

As Sam desperately navigates a maze of lies, dark secrets, and finds herself at the heart of a dangerous journey, she discovers that it will take much more than her courage and power to save humanity.

Time’s running out, and there’s no turning back now…

From the award-winning author of Journey to the Hopewell Star comes the highly anticipated sequel that’s sure to be a thrilling ride!

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Sam’s throat tightened. Tears collected in her eyes, but she wiped them away before the others saw. She couldn’t let them see her like that, vulnerable and fragile. She didn’t want them to worry about her.

She instead focused on the people they passed in the hallways. Joyful and welcoming and…

Wait. No, that’s not right.

She slowed down and tried to take in every detail about their features and body language.

When they looked at Rian and her friends, their expressions were easy to read—relaxed, carefree. Delighted to see them. Yet, when their eyes traveled to Sam…

Their expressions changed, if only by a fraction. Nothing anyone would notice. Except she noticed. She sensed…discomfort, fear. Their eyes shifted, and within them, an apprehension lingered. They tensed up slightly, too; a tightened jaw, a rigid stance. Hesitation. They seemed to be holding back, nervous about something.

Sam smiled, trying to elicit a similar response from them.

But they didn’t smile. Or if they did, it was forced.

It was like they were all hiding a deep, dark, terrible secret.

And it was about her.

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About Author Hannah D. State:

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Hannah D. State is an award-winning Canadian author. She graduated from McGill University with a BA and earned her MPL from Queen’s University. Hannah is bothered by inequality, violence, greed, complacency, snakes, entering a dark room, and not getting enough sleep. She enjoys writing about strong-willed characters who don’t fit the norm and who overcome great obstacles with perseverance, self-discovery, and help from others. Sometimes Hannah can’t keep up with her characters’ ideas and plans, so she takes breaks, drinks coffee, does yoga and tai chi, and takes nature walks to calm her mind and really listen. Journey to the Dark Galaxy is her second novel. You can find her author page on Facebook.

 

Author Links: Facebook / Goodreads / Instagram

Read for free on Kindle Unlimited

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a Rafflecopter giveaway

~~~~~

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

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I am so excited that the paperback
of ANTI-HERO BLUES by Christopher Lee Rippee is available now and that I
get to share the news!

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If you haven’t yet heard about this
wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

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 ANTI-HERO BLUES

by: Christopher Lee Rippee

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Pub. Date: August 16, 2024

Publisher: Balance of Seven

Formats:  Hardcover, Paperback, eBook, Audiobook

Pages: 400

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Find it: Goodreadshttps://books2read.com/ANTI-HERO-BLUES

 

How do you save a world that believes you’re the villain?

In Union City, where superpowered vigilantes are celebrated as saviors, rebellious
grad-student Brandon Carter sees them as anything but. Haunted by the death of
his father at the hands of a masked “hero,” Brandon’s defiance might
have landed him in a jail cell if not for his gift for physics.

At twenty-three, Brandon is on the precipice of success. Using his research, his
team is just one test away from a world-changing scientific breakthrough-a test
that nearly ends in catastrophe due to an “error” in the code.

With the project set for termination, Brandon throws caution to the wind, sneaking back
into the lab to rerun the test in secret. But when a mysterious, powerful
assassin attacks him and sabotages the experiment, a devastating explosion
levels the lab.

Against all odds, Brandon survives, transformed in mind and body. With his life on the line
and no idea who to trust, he sets out to uncover the truth behind the attack,
gain control of his strange, new powers, and protect those he loves-even if it
means saving a world that would label him a supervillain.

 

Enjoy this peek inside:

.

ONE

.

Failed Experiment

.

You want to know about the explosion and the pillar of
fire in the sky at the Resistance Day celebration? What happened to
Vincent Vaydan? Sure, we’ll get  there, but we need to start at the
beginning.

It all went off the rails the day we turned MICSy on. 

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Union City University and
the Vaydan Institute for Experimental Physics, welcome!” Claire’s South London
accent colored her  greeting as she smiled at the research review
committee.  She was really turning on the charm, which made sense
given that the committee could pull the plug on our project with an
email. 

.

That worried me, but not as much as the possibility  of
blowing us all up in the next few minutes. My heart  pounded against my
rib cage as I raced through the pre-ignition checklist for the twentieth time,
trying to focus. With my hands shaking and a tangled snarl of anxiety,
excitement, and dread roiling in my stomach, I  glanced at the
clock. 

.

9:57 a.m. 

.

Three minutes until the moment of truth. 

.

On the dubious bright side, if the test went badly, I
wouldn’t have a lot of time for regrets. 

.

“We have what will undoubtedly be an exciting  morning
in store!” 

.

Dr. Claire Wright was the head of our research  team, my
mentor, and basically a member of my family.  She was in her fifties,
having spent her life climbing to the  top of her field. Despite her
professional stature, Claire  was only five foot five in two-inch heels,
and slim. Short,  iron-gray hair framed a face that seemed cheery
despite  her aura of cool professionalism. As usual, she wore an
elegantly conservative blazer and matching skirt. 

.

For our test run, she’d gone with navy blue. A few members of
the research oversight committee  were clumped by the door. Most were
watching remotely.  We’d expected a better turnout, but I suspected the de
sire to be present for a scientific breakthrough was outweighed by an aversion
to the possibility of sudden energetic events—explosions, for the
nonscientific. Two representatives from the physics department  chatted
with the Vaydan Industries contingent, a suit in  his late twenties named
Ashcroft and a tall woman I  hadn’t met, while Dr. Clifford from the
Department of  Energy, a grumpy-looking bureaucrat in a tweed jacket
older than I was, glowered at everyone from behind an  impressive
mustache. 

.

The lab used to be a bomb shelter, so it wasn’t exactly
spacious. Despite taking every safety precaution  imaginable, the chance
of us causing a massive explosion in a couple of minutes was slightly greater
than zero, so it  was good we were wrapped in concrete and steel a
dozen  feet underground. Unfortunately, it also meant the lab  was a
cramped maze of fabrication machines, workstations, and bundles of wiring taped
to the floor. Most of the equipment was impressive, but none of  it
compared to the machine in the middle of the room. Claire turned to me and the
rest of the team standing  awkwardly in front of the machine that
dominated the  lab. “These individuals represent some of the
brightest  young minds in our field, and they deserve the real accolades.
Despite my title, all I did was approve purchase  orders.” Claire’s smile
turned mischievous. “Rarely in a  scientist’s career does one have the
opportunity to take  so much credit for doing so little.” 

.

The observers chuckled.

.

She gestured to Harvey, who nodded curtly before
looking away. 

.

“Dr. Zhang comes to us from the University of  Toronto
and specializes in the computational modeling  of energetic
systems.”  

.

Harvey was pale and thin, with a mop of stylishly
unkempt black hair. Dressed in a tight, black button down and fitted jeans,
Harvey looked more like a model  than a mathematician. He’d seemed like an
asshole when  we first met, but he just wasn’t great with people. I
wouldn’t have called us friends, but we weren’t far from  it. 

.

He didn’t smile as the observation group shifted  their
collective gaze to him. He made most stoics seem  emotionally
unhinged. 

.

“Next is Dr. Itzel Rodriguez,” Claire continued. “Dr.
Rodriguez is a mechanical engineer from the University of Mexico, by way
of MIT. She specializes in exotic matter containment and applied
xenotechnology.” Itzel was short, with an olive complexion and a mane  of
wavy brown hair, streaked with blue, that surrounded  a face with round
cheeks. She was in one of her many  science-pun T-shirts, battered jeans,
and Chuck Taylors. Her shirt of the day had a smiling proton telling an
electron to be positive. 

.

Itzel’s endless enthusiasm almost made up for her
tendency to sing when she was excited. Nothing helped  complex engineering
problems like lab karaoke. Still, I’d  put money on her winning a Nobel
Prize. 

.

Vibrating with excitement, Itzel beamed when Claire
said her name. “It’s great to meet everyone,” she said,  with a hint of a
Mexican accent. 

.

Claire pointed to our third team member. “Many of  you
already know Dr. Nathan Chambers.” 

.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

.

Barely. 

.

Nate was blandly handsome, with sandy-blond hair,  blue
eyes, and the muscle tone of someone who worked  out for looks.
Straightening his salmon polo, he smiled  with the casually smug air of a
guy used to being showered  with praise. I guess it came with being the
child of a  billionaire. 

.

Nate was the son and heir apparent of tech mogul
Jeremiah Chambers. His PhD was just part of preparing  for his
legacy. 

.

As much as I disliked the rich, though, Nate’s money wasn’t
why I couldn’t stand him. 

.

The guy was just awful. 

.

He ignored Harvey and treated Itzel like a waitress,
but he reserved his real contempt for me. I was the only one in the lab
without a PhD, but that didn’t bother him  as much as the fact I’d grown
up poor. 

.

The first time we met, Nate had asked Claire if she’d
given all her strays research projects. I’d asked him if he  was planning
to be buried in his father’s shadow or just  live his whole life in
it. 

.

It went downhill from there. 

.

As much as I hated the guy, though, Nate was good  at
computational physics. It was why Claire had brought  him in on the
project, even if his presence was a needle  in the heart of my
chill. 

.

“And of course, I want to introduce Brandon Car ter.” Claire
gestured to me, her smile expanding with  pride. “Brandon came to my
attention years ago, thanks  to his high-school physics teacher.” 

.

Someone snickered. Maybe they’d been born with  an
advanced degree. 

.

“While research is a team effort, Brandon’s equations—his
revolutionary way of visualizing and modeling  gravitational waves in
tandem with highly energetic systems—are this project’s foundation. The first
time I read  the paper that launched all this,”—Claire gestured around the
lab—“a paper Brandon wrote as a second-year under grad, I might add—I thought
it was rubbish, mostly because I didn’t think what he was suggesting was
possible.”  Claire chuckled. “When Brandon explained his work to  me,
I realized I was holding something extraordinary.” 

.

The observers looked at me. Some seemed impressed; others,
dubious or dismissive. 

.

I managed not to glare. 

.

Whatever they saw, I doubted physicist was the first
word that came to mind. Musician, maybe, if they were  being generous.
Armed robber if they weren’t.

.

I was twenty-three and nearly six foot four, with a
wiry build and the colorless complexion of my Irish  roots. My hair was
dark, a product of the Korean side of  my dad’s family, chopped short and
shaved on the sides.  I wasn’t what people called handsome. Striking,
maybe,  with deep-set hazel eyes under a heavy brow, a large nose,
prominent cheekbones, and a strong chin. 

.

My uniform—a hoodie, band shirt, jeans, and a pair  of
boots, all black—didn’t exactly scream scientist. Neither did the tattoos that
peeked out from beneath my  sleeves and spread across my hands. 

.

If asked, almost anyone who knew me growing up  would’ve
said the only way I’d end up in a physics lab was  by robbing it. Before
fifteen, I would have agreed. The  trajectory of my life hadn’t been aimed
anywhere good. 

.

Why? 

.

Because a superhero killed my dad when I was eight. If it
hadn’t been for that high-school science teacher  sending a paper I’d
written to Claire, I probably would’ve  ended up in a jail cell instead of
a lab. 

.

Claire smiled again. “Collectively, this team has
accomplished something monumental: the first step in  bridging the gulf
between our world and the infinite other  worlds beyond.” 

.

She waved at the device behind us. “Our machine  uses
alien matter to shape a gravitational distortion and  generate a
microscopic breach in the membrane separating our reality from others, allowing
us to receive electromagnetic radiation from a nearby multiversal strand.
To  put it another way, we’ll be capturing radio signals from
parallel Earths.” 

.

The size of a cargo van, our machine might have  looked
like a haphazard tangle of wires, cables, and components grafted at random
to a metal frame, but  every module, field generator, and dedicated
processor  had been custom built for this experiment. Collectively,
it represented three years of my life and more than $9  million of
funding. 

.

The machine’s official name was the Multiversal
Intermembrane Communication System. We called her  MICSy. 

.

MICSy wasn’t pretty, but she didn’t need to be. At  her
heart, straining against a xibrantium containment  bottle, was a piece of
voidrium the size of a fingertip,  capable of generating enough gravity to
punch a hole  through the fabric of space-time. 

.

Assuming the test didn’t kill us all in the next few
minutes. 

.

“That’s right. Some of you traveled two thousand  miles
to watch us turn on the world’s most expensive  radio,” Claire said,
eliciting more chuckles. “But if we’re  successful, the technology will
pave the way for full matter  transference.” 

.

The multiverse wasn’t a theory. It was a fact made  hard
to ignore by the occasional monster attacks and invaders from alternate
timelines. Masks had been known  to travel to other multiversal threads,
or parallel worlds,  and tread on strange and “undreamed shores,” to
borrow  a phrase from Shakespeare. They did it in ways not easily
replicated, however: Magical portals. Falling through  black holes. 

.

If successful, we’d take a step toward making the trip
easier. 

.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, shall we make history?” Claire
turned to the team and raised an eyebrow. I looked at the clock, my stomach
churning.

.

It was 10:01 a.m.

.

Breaking apart, we headed to our workstations. Har vey and I
were on one side of the room, monitoring the  control system and the
voidrium to ensure the exotic  material’s energy output remained within
the containment fields’ tolerances. On the other side, Itzel monitored MICSy’s
power system, while Nate watched CPU  usage on the control-software
servers to make sure they  didn’t crash. 

.

I glanced at the team. They seemed as nervous as I
felt, even Nate, who had the least to lose, outside his life. Taking a breath,
I pulled up the ignition sequence.  “Everyone ready?” 

.

Harvey nodded. 

.

“Make it so!” Itzel chirped. 

.

“Get on with it, Carter,” Nate groused. 

.

“Here we go.” I took another deep breath and  clicked
the initialize button. 

.

The refrigerator-sized xenotech power block began  to
vibrate, and MICSy hummed as she generated a series  of overlapping
containment fields. The smell of ozone  filled the air, but the
diagnostics showed everything as  nominal. 

.

“Containment fields on, control system running,” I
breathed. “How are we looking on your end, Itzel?” “Stable. MICSy’s purring
like a kitten.” 

.

“Opening the containment bottle and bringing
the voidrium online.” Hoping I wasn’t about to kill us all, I started the
activation sequence. 

.

The power block’s hum deepened as the xibrantium  bottle
at MICSy’s heart opened. The voidrium inside  glimmered with violet light
as energy flowed through it. A stillness filled the room. This was the real
test. If it went well, we’d change the world. If it went poorly . .
.  well, we might still change the world, at least on local
topographic maps. 

.

“Uh, Brandon, you should look at this,” Harvey
murmured, a ripple of tension in his tone. 

.

“What?” I asked, hoping my voice wouldn’t carry to  the
observers. Harvey’s calm demeanor was a joke in the  lab, which meant the
worry in his tone amounted to  hysterics for anyone else. 

.

“We’re getting some instability in the voidrium modulation
field.” 

.

A chill ran through me. Shit. 

.

Voidrium was highly unstable. Investigators had discovered it
among the wreckage of the Rakkari ships that  assaulted Earth nearly three
decades ago. The Rakkari  had used it for faster-than-light travel, but
research so far  had produced no results other than fatal accidents.
Our  project was one of a handful authorized to work with the exotic
matter, and only for a brief window of time. 

.

Sliding out of my seat, I made my way to Harvey as
quickly as I could without running, weaving around  equipment and through
wires. Harvey slid to the side as  I stepped in front of his terminal. The
screen was covered  in graphs and other monitoring tools that would
have  been incomprehensible to most people, but we had designed the
system. I saw what he meant instantly. 

.

An alert message flashed in the field control system.
Uh-oh. 

.

Voidrium’s energy production rate was unstable.
Previous attempts to harness it had failed due to unpredictable power spikes,
almost as if the voidrium were  fighting to break free. To compensate,
Harvey and I had  created an algorithm to predict energy fluctuations
and modulate the overlapping containment fields in real time.
Without it, we couldn’t have put enough power into the  voidrium to
penetrate the membrane separating our reality from other multiversal strands without
it exploding. Some of the best computational physicists at the university—and
by extension, the world—had reviewed our  algorithm. We’d run thousands of
simulations, using data  models constructed from other experiments. It
should have been working. 

.

Instead, the algorithm was failing to predict nearly a
third of the energy spikes, pushing the field generators to  the limit of
their tolerances. Unless we could get the  spikes under control, the
generators would burn out. If  we lost one, failure would cascade through
the rest, which  would be very, very bad.

.

Our theoretical modeling predicted that an explosion probably
wouldn’t generate an ever-expanding singularity that would engulf the solar
system, but it would destroy the lab, along with a significant portion of
the  building, not to mention kill everyone inside. 

.

No pressure, I thought, breaking into a cold sweat. I racked
my brain, ignoring the voice telling me to  shut MICSy off. If I hit the
emergency shutoff, I could  check the field generators and debug the
algorithm. I  could blame a faulty power relay and use the incident
to  demonstrate our rigorous safety protocols. But our research review was
at the end of the month, and there was  no guarantee the Department of
Energy would let us  keep the voidrium long enough for a second test run.
This needed to work. 

.

Suddenly, the solution hit me. My fingers flew across
the keyboard as I threw commands into different windows.

.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Claire asked from
behind me, her normally unflappable cool unable to  keep the tension from
her voice. 

.

“It looks like the algorithm isn’t modulating the
fields properly,” Harvey whispered. “It’s failing to prevent roughly thirty
percent of the energy fluctuations.” 

.

“Shut it down,” Claire ordered. “Immediately.” Harvey reached
for the emergency shutoff. 

.

I grabbed his wrist. “Don’t.” We locked eyes. His were wide
with fear. “I’ve got this.” 

.

We looked to Claire. 

.

“We’re still within tolerances,” I said. “I need sixty
seconds.” 

.

Claire’s eyes narrowed, and she glanced at the committee.
“One minute. If the power fluctuations aren’t  under control in one
minute, shut it down.” 

.

I was typing before she’d finished speaking. Our energy
growth model wasn’t the issue. It had to  be a software bug. The night
before, Nate had “fixed” a  syntax error I’d supposedly overlooked. I was
guessing  whatever he’d done had broken something. I initialized the
previous version of the control software on a backup server. MICSy sent data to
both primary and secondary control systems as a failsafe. I could  compare
the readings on the secondary server to the  primary and, if there were no
errors in the earlier version,  switch to it. The two control systems ran
concurrently, so  there shouldn’t be any interruptions. If I was right,
the  switch would stabilize the process. 

.

The program was system intensive, so it took time to
synchronize. Each second felt like an hour as the diagnostics flashed
alarms. 

.

I tried not to think about the consequences of
being wrong as MICSy’s smooth purr shifted into a rumbling  growl,
drawing concerned murmurs from our observers. “Apologies, gentlemen!” Claire
flashed them a practiced smile. “It wouldn’t be science without a little
excitement.” 

.

Nearly there. Five seconds until the backup came
online. 

.

The lights flickered.

.

Four seconds. My pulse pounded in my ears. Three. 

.

The grumbling increased. Harsh, violet light radiated from
the containment bottle. The field generators’  output levels began to
redline. 

.

Two. 

.

The acrid stench of overheating electronics filled the
room. Electricity crackled, and a blue flash, followed by  a spray of
sparks, erupted from MICSy. It was only the  secondary power relay burning
out. We were still good. 

.

One. 

.

A field generator blew, sparks erupting from the side
of the machine, but the other generators still worked. The fix was going to
work. I was sure of it.

.

The prior version of the control system finished
initializing. Immediately, I could see I was right. The energy  curve
began to smooth out. I switched control systems,  and the levels started
to stabilize. 

.

“I’ve got it—” 

.

Claire hit the emergency override. MICSy sputtered and
went silent as the diagnostic panel flatlined. The stench of smoldering
electronics intensified, and a haze filled the room. 

.

People coughed behind me. 

.

Shit.

 .

About Christopher Lee Rippee:

.


Christopher Lee
Rippee won a young authors contest in third grade, which was the day he
officially decided to become a writer. He prepared by reading comics, playing
too much Dungeons & Dragons, and devouring every sci -fi and fantasy novel
he could get his hands on.

Along the
way, thanks to some great people and a lifelong love of punk rock, Chris found
his way to social work and currently works at a Pittsburgh-based nonprofit.
He’s also a certified mental-health first-aid trainer, has worked as a
neurodiversity consultant for several Pittsburgh-based tech startups, and has
contributed to several tabletop RPG products. When not writing, Chris reads,
plays games, and spends time with his lovely wife, Nicole, and their adorable
rescue dog, Belle.

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To Preserve, Protect And Destroy

by Matthew D. Saeman

 

 

 

Synopsis (from Amazon):

NASA Geologist Unearths Deadly Martian Stones: A Race Against Time to Thwart Catastrophic Mission and Save Millions from Imminent Disaster!

In To Preserve, Protect and Destroy, we follow the gripping journey of Terrence Sullivan, a dedicated NASA geologist, as he is thrust into an unexpected mission of universal importance. Tasked with the perilous job of collecting volatile stones from the hostile terrain of Mars, Terrence is initially led to believe that his mission is purely for the safety of the universe. These are no ordinary stones, but the very same that caused the catastrophic end to the first terraforming mission on the red planet.

As the narrative unfolds, Terrence uncovers the chilling truth behind his mission’s ultimate goal. The stakes are higher than he could have ever imagined, with the fate of his crew and millions of innocent lives hanging in the balance. The ship is set to return to Earth, but with a deadly cargo that could cause it to crash land in the Middle East, resulting in an unimaginable disaster.

Caught in a web of deceit and danger, Terrence must navigate the treacherous path of duty, morality, and survival. With time running out, he is forced to make decisions that will not only determine his fate but that of humanity itself. Will he be able to thwart the impending catastrophe and reveal the truth to the world, or will he become another casualty in this deadly game of power and control?

To Preserve, Protect and Destroy is a thrilling exploration of space travel, the fragility of life, and the lengths one man will go to protect it. It is a testament to the human spirit’s resilience and the power of truth in the face of overwhelming odds. This gripping tale is sure to captivate fans of space exploration and those who relish in seeing the mighty fall. Prepare for a journey that will take you to the edge of your seat and beyond, as you delve into the heart-stopping world of To Preserve, Protect and Destroy.

.

Enjoy This Peek Inside:

“Madame Speaker, the President of the United States.”

Having been formally introduced to this joint session of Congress, President William Dowd III made his way down the center aisle of the House of Representatives chamber. The stark blue carpet matched his eyes perfectly and complimented the expensive, custom tailored suit he wore. As he proceeded, he was inundated with hands to shake, all of which he ignored. The president’s face resembled that of a boxer preparing to defend his belt, focused solely on the fight he’d been training for. He wanted no distractions and his pace was nearly at a slow jog.

Passing the podium from which he’d speak, President Dowd made his way to the back of the ceremonial seating posts where he shook hands with his Vice President and the Speaker of the House. He then headed back to his podium, stood and waited for the applause from half the audience to quiet down.

“Madam Speaker. Mr. Vice President. Members of Congress, Madam Chief Justice, and associate Justices of the Supreme Court. I’m certain you are all well versed in the subject of World History, so I won’t presume to educate you on this particular topic. But please bear with me as I highlight the most important tenet of the Nazi party’s rise to power.”

The president, certain his speech’s opening was a shock to all, allowed the audience to murmur for a few seconds before proceeding. “In 1918, shortly after the end of World War I and the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, a man named Anton Drexler formed the foundation of what would come to be known as the Nazi party. His beliefs and philosophy centered around German nationalism. Nothing wrong with being a patriot, right? Unfortunately, for the nearly 84 million people who would lose their lives as a result of the Second World War, Drexler’s ideology was steeped in the blaming of anyone not belonging to the Aryan master race for every problem the German people encountered. And once Adolph Hitler, a gifted orator, joined forces with Drexler, it was only a matter of time before what started as a fledgling, some would say outlandish, concept began taking root with the German people and eventually garnered full fledged acceptance.

“It’s been many decades since the thankful end of World War II, the Holocaust, and the Nazi party. But has it been too long? Are we, as citizens of this great country, in danger of forgetting the atrocities committed by one man with a silver tongue? ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’ George Santayana, a Spanish American philosopher spoke these words in 1905, more than a century ago… and they couldn’t be more applicable today. I received the video I am about to show not more than twenty four hours ago. It was captured by an agent who has been working undercover for several years amongst the terrorist organization ISIS in Iraq. I called together this joint session of Congress so that all of you could see first hand the danger posed by Abu al-Hussein, the newly crowned leader of this lawless organization, now that he has convinced Al-Qaeda and the Taliban to join forces with his in an effort to complete their Caliphate dream of uniting all Muslims around the world. The Muslim faith is one of honor and respectability, but al-Hussein and his newly formed regime have bastardized this proud religion, converting it into an organization replete with decadent thugs. Once the leader gets a taste of power, his appetite won’t be satisfied. And as has been too painfully recognized many times over in days gone by, once the mob mentality takes control, there is no way to stop it before the loss of too many lives.”

As President Dowd stepped away from the podium, the Vice President and Speaker of the House took the seats next to his in the front row. The lights slowly dimmed as a large projector screen was lowered. It reached its extent with a metallic thud, causing some in the silenced gallery to jump. And then the video began to play. Shot with a cell phone, the operator was close enough to the speaker for his words to be heard and the thousands upon thousands of mesmerized onlookers to be seen clearly. Though Arabic was the language used by al-Hussein, an English translation of his delivered message was displayed at the bottom of the screen.

It was clear from the way he spoke and the hand gestures used, that he had familiarized himself with Hitler’s greatest hits. Every statement flowed methodically and strong, and the pace with which he spoke was slow enough to ensure all listeners, no matter their learning level, could easily understand the points he was attempting to make. He used strategic pauses in order to keep his audience intrigued, and the expression on his face was one of genuine care for his people.

According to the translation, al-Hussein was bemoaning the loss of so many centuries stolen from them by infidels from foreign lands and the loss of life resulting from infighting amongst their own kind. He touted the new regime as having seen enough of their own blood, and that now was the time to band together in order to rebuff any opposition who tried standing in their way. Upon hearing these words, the crowd drew to a near frenzy of approval, and as al-Hussein saw this, he took a step back from the microphone so he could relish in his success.

The remainder of the footage resembled a political rally comprised of no opposition to the speaker being celebrated. Everything al-Hussein said was gladly accepted and then answered by thunderous waves of applause. He concluded his remarks by indicating this unification was only the beginning. That as one with Allah, they were capable of anything.

It was dead silent as the screen went dark and began rising back toward the ceiling. When the lighting brightened, and as the president walked back to the podium, he could see the challenged faces of all in the auditorium; some uncertain, some frightened, but most categorically mad.

“Though other world leaders have viewed this footage, none seem to have seen it with the concern that I… and you now have. They are considering al-Hussein with a lack of concern as did President Roosevelt, Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, and President Lebrun of France with Hitler. The difference, of course, being that the three men I just named had no reason to believe the worst could happen. Now that we have seen the possibilities, it would be irresponsible of us not to act. And since we, the United States of America, remain the greatest country ever created by God, the responsibility falls upon our shoulders.”

The president received a standing ovation, and allowed it to persist a bit longer before furthering his thoughts aloud. “Of course, I’m not asking for a declaration of war. There are those in Iraq as well as other countries in the Middle East who deplore the movement which has begun gaining footage. My recommendation is to send in a single battalion of highly trained soldiers who will train the young men and women of these countries how to fight for what they believe in; a democratic way of life where you’re not told how to dress or whether or not you can hold a job other than raising children and bowing to your spouse’s every whim.”

The round of applause President Dowd earned following that statement was similar to the one al-Hussein received, the only difference being that no one in the House of Representatives chamber fired off their guns in celebration.

“Let me be clear. Our soldiers will be nowhere near the front line. In fact, they will be safely back home long before any aggression takes place. I simply ask you all to consider the potential ramifications of allowing al-Hussein’s movement to swell, and to remember the mistakes made in the past that took so many lives. God bless you, and God bless America.”

On his journey back up the center aisle, President Dowd’s pace was much slower. He shook every hand thrust his way and showed genuine appreciation for the verbal bi-partisan support he received. But in the quiet space of his own mind, he wondered how long it would take these people to realize they’d just been duped, or if they ever would.

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MY REVIEW

Do I think we’ll ever set foot on Mars? Yes. But not for a long time. There’s too much still to learn about traveling such a long distance. Do I think once we do go there it will be exploited? Yes. There’s always those who hunger for power and wealth waiting for a new way to get it.

To Preserve, Protect And Destroy. Such an apt title. Something is discovered on Mars. People are sent to retrieve it. Some want to study it. Some want to bury it. And some want to use it. There’s that saying…” just because you can doesn’t mean you should.”

I was pulled in right from the first couple of sentences. Those brief descriptions put me there. I learned what was on Mars. Thought about what it might mean and formed my own opinions. Shared the excitement, fears and desires along with the crew. And kept turning the pages. I needed, no, had to know what the outcome was.

As I neared the end of the book all I thought was, “there’s no place like home.” And I hoped the last few pages showed me it was still there.

I enjoy science fiction stories. Especially those that might be able to happen. Throw in characters I grow to care about and some bad guys I’d like to drop kick, and I’m a happy camper.

4 STARS

 

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Interview With Author Matthew D. Saeman

On writing:

 

How did you do research for your book?

The majority of the research I did was from the Geological perspective since I knew very little about that branch of science. That information was readily available online, as was everything I needed regarding NASA, the White House, and the President.

 

Which was the hardest character to write? The easiest?

The hardest character to write was President Dowd since I’ve never met a U.S. president, especially one of his ilk. The easiest was Terrence Sullivan since I based most of his emotions after my own.

 

Where do you get inspiration for your stories?

I keep an open mind, and when an idea pops into my head I ask myself two important questions: Has it already been done and would it be fun to write?

 

What advice would you give budding writers?

Since I still consider myself one, my advice is something I tell myself every day: Trust your gut and write stories YOU think would be fun to read.

 

Do you have another profession besides writing?

I teach High School Special Education.

 

How long have you been writing?

As far as novels, only six or seven years. Prior to that I wrote screenplays and short stories.

 

Do you ever get writer’s block? What helps you overcome it?

I don’t believe in “writer’s block.” The only times I have difficulty progressing with a story are when the story has a fundamental flaw that must be fixed. Once it is, the “block” goes away.

 

What is your next project?

I have a friend who fell while rock climbing. She’s kind enough to allow me to use her experience in the story I’ll write… though I have no idea what that’ll be yet.

 

What genre do you write and why?

The majority of the stories I write are Suspense/Thrillers, mostly because there are so many fun ways to tell interesting stories in that genre.

 

What is the last great book you’ve read?

Legion by William Peter Blatty.

 

What were the biggest rewards and challenges with writing your book?

The biggest reward was finishing it, the biggest challenge was having the patience not to start writing before the outline was solid.

 

Which authors inspired you to write?

Gordon McAlpine was a friend who inspired me to do what I love.

 

 

 

On rituals:

 

Where do you write?

Resting comfortably on my couch.

 

Do you write every day?

If I’ve got a story that’s flowing well, I write every day. My goal is at least 1000 words a day.

 

In today’s tech savvy world, most writers use a computer or laptop. Have you ever written parts of your book on paper?

Never. I write on my phone, it feels more personal.

 

Fun stuff:

 

If you could go back in time, where would you go?

1700s USA. I’d love to see first hand how our founders worked together.

 

Favorite travel spot?

The Republic of Ireland

 

Favorite dessert?

Chocolate fudge cake… the richer the better.

 

What’s the funniest thing that ever happened to you? The scariest? The strangest?

The funniest was when I ordered a lamb stew that had a hoof in it, the scariest was when I almost accidentally dumped Ray Bradbury out of his wheelchair, and the strangest was hearing a cat crying outside our house that sounded like a small child.

 

Any hobbies? or Name a quirky thing you like to do.

No real hobbies, but when watching a TV show or movie, I enjoy checking my phone to see how tall the actors are.

 

If there is one thing you want readers to remember about you, what would it be?

I’m hysterically funny, despite what my wife and daughter would say.

 

What TV series are you currently binge watching?

I just finished Defending Jacob and am about to begin Billy the Kid.

 

What is your theme song?

“The Modern World” by The Jam

 

What song is currently playing on a loop in your head?

“22” by Taylor Swift. My daughter listens to her nonstop!

 

What is something that made you laugh recently?

A YouTube video where a guy is on the phone at work and his colleagues placed a tarantula on his shoulder. His reaction was priceless!

 

What is your go-to breakfast item?

An apple with reduced fat peanut butter.

 

What is the oldest item of clothing you own?

 A ratty t-shirt I refuse to throw away. It’s at least 20 years old.

 

Who was your childhood celebrity crush?

Kathy Coleman who played Holly Marshall on Land of the Lost (the TV show).

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Guest Post

I’m fascinated that EVERYONE doesn’t love to write. The thought of crafting a story from scratch, developing the characters and plot in whatever form of outline works best, then writing one chapter after another until the book is finished makes me giddy! Being a High School teacher, it’s rare for students not to ask “How many sentences do we have to write?” when I give them a writing assignment. They make it sound as if the process were the equivalent of a root canal with no novocain, which is why I do my best to make it as interesting as possible. I first tell them there are NO wrong answers. I compare writing to painting, explaining that every artist sees things in their own way, then showing them how I do it and how much fun it can be. Does this procedure work with every student? Absolutely not. But it does allow their minds to open up just enough to get the work done, and for some, exposes a love for the written word they never knew they had.

In sixth grade, my teacher asked us to write a Halloween story. To this day, I still remember how cathartic it felt to craft that one page piece. It’s something inside that can’t be defined but it truly exists. I do believe all of us possess this creative gift, yet most choose to ignore it. To each their own. I love writing. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of either the story I’m currently working on or the one I’d like to write next. I’m a dedicated soul, an attribute passed down from my parents. When I begin a project, no matter what kind, I finish it. When it comes to writing stories, completing them provides a sensation of pride from which I derive my optimistic outlook on life. I’m thankful every day that I’ve chosen this facet as my creative outlet, if for no other reason than it allows me an internal peace which, in these crazy times, seems so hard to come by for too many.

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About Author Matthew D. Saeman:

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Matthew D. Saeman, a native of Orange County, CA, is a distinguished graduate of Cal State Fullerton. He has dedicated his life to shaping young minds as a Special Education teacher in San Diego. His personal life is as fulfilling as his professional one, being a loving husband and a doting father to one child. A proud owner of a Great Dane, Matthew’s life is a blend of compassion and commitment.

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Author Marketing Experts tags for social media: Instagram / Twitter

Purchase Links: Amazon / Goodreads

 

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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The Moon Run

by Kathleen Contine

 

(The Moon Run, #1)
Publication date: May 1st 2024
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction

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He’s her biggest rival in The Moon Run. And the reason her co-pilot is dead. Now they’re being forced to race together.

Finley Clarke swore off racing after a fatal crash cost her first place and her teammate. As she comes around to the idea of entering again, she finds out the only person who is willing to be her new co-pilot is the man named Garis who caused the crash.

As Finley and Garis enter The Moon Run, they realize there’s more than just the harsh desert out to get them. The other racers will stop at nothing to win. Even if it means they have to kill. Can Finley and Garis put aside their past to win the race?

The Moon Run is the first book in a sci-fi racing series by Kathleen Contine. If you like action, compelling characters, and a dash of romance, then you’ll love this new space adventure.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Finley Clarke would never get used to hurling across the desert at hundreds of miles an hour in a small metal tube. Most people saw her ship with its faded red paint flying toward the city and thought she was a talented pilot, especially because she stayed in first place for the entire race. Finley never bothered to tell anyone that in the last few minutes of every race, she had barely any control of the ship. Even now the joystick vibrated violently in her hands as she pushed it forward, surrounded by the endless buttons and knobs she’d meticulously memorized.

Just a little bit more.

Behind her in the navigation chair sat her copilot, Cayne. He faced backwards, his attention on the many monitors in front of him. They took up the entirety of the back of the small ship so that he needed to crane his neck to see every screen. Every so often, he would type something to check on the ship or the location of the other racers.

“We’ve got one coming up behind us.”

“I’m not worried about it. We’re too far ahead of the others for someone else to take first place now,” Finley said, but she kept an eye on her radar as the small dot behind them grew closer.

“Don’t get too cocky, Fin. It’s Garis,” Cayne cautioned.

Finley smirked. “Don’t worry about him. Just worry about who’s buying the first round once we win.”

Cayne laughed. “It’ll be me. Always me.”

“That does seem to be the case, doesn’t it?”

She’d been paired with Cayne a few years into her racing career, and their winning streak hadn’t stopped since. Finley knew Cayne was responsible for most of her wins. There was no one else she wanted as her copilot.

A third voice came over the communicators. Deep and gravelly. “Don’t spend money you haven’t won yet.”

Cayne laughed. “How about joining us, Bhizin? Our agent needs to celebrate with us once in a while.”

“I prefer to swim in my money instead of spending it on drinks.”

Finley sighed as her eyes narrowed on the flat, sandy terrain before her. “Later, guys. I need to concentrate.”

The small outline of the city grew closer. She pictured the crowd waiting for the ships to come roaring through the finish line. Her and Cayne climbing out of their ship to cheers as the president of The Moon Run handed them a trophy while they wore first place medals. The next few days would be filled with the flash of cameras, the shaking of hands, and multiple interviews. And then, just like that, they would start it all over again as they entered their next race. But they weren’t there yet.

“Hang tight. Garis coming up on your left,” Cayne said. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand how he’s caught up to us so fast.”

Out the left side of the cockpit window, another ship the same size as theirs steadily made its way past. It kicked up a cloud of dust, making it nearly impossible to see anything. Somehow, Finley’s grip tightened even more on the joystick. “Why is it always Garis?”

“You’re both evenly skilled. A good rivalry makes for good races and more bets,” Cayne said matter-of-factly.

“I still haven’t forgiven him for that last race in Keveka,” she yelled over the rumbling of the cockpit. “We should have won.”

“Point three seconds is point three seconds,” Cayne said, mimicking Bhizin.

Finley held in her groan as she eyed a small switch on the dashboard. One quick push and it would give them a small burst of speed.

“Easy there,” Cayne said.

“How did you know I was thinking of using it?”

“Whenever the sprint to the finish line is between you and Garis, you always want to use it.”

“Well, you did say to only use it for emergencies, and this is as good a time as any.” Finley flipped up the case covering the switch. “Hang on.”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“It’s this or lose.” With a satisfying click, she pushed the switch down.

The ship rattled and shot forward, pushing Finley back into her seat. They flew through the sand cloud, past Garis’ ship, and back into the lead. She risked taking her eyes away from the window to look at him as they passed.

Garis sat in his cockpit with his head down. The visor on his helmet obscured his face, so she couldn’t be sure if he saw them or not.

Finley waved anyway before focusing back on the race.

“Are you happy with yourself?” Cayne asked.

“Of course,” she answered. “How much farther to the finish line?”

Before Cayne could answer, Garis’ ship pulled up next to them. Red light filled the tiny cabin as an alarm sounded in the cockpit.

“He’s way too close. You need to take evasive maneuvers, Fin,” Cayne yelled.

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About Author Kathleen Contine:

Kathleen Contine is an award-winning author who has always loved stories about aliens and far off galaxies. She graduated from Saint Leo University with a bachelors in English with a concentration in professional writing.

When she isn’t writing her newest sci fi book, she’s watching Star Wars, playing video games, and reading other thrilling space operas. Metal Bones is her debut novel.

To keep up with Kathleen, visit her website at KathleenContine.com

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

 

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