When Blood Reigns Barbara Cluster
Publication date: December 5th 2016
Genres: Adult, Horror, Science Fiction
Marked for death, Alexis accompanies her lover, Yeron, and four survivors of a zombie invasion on a search for the renegades who created a chemical that induces a zombie-like state. On the way, ravenous flesh-eaters attack Alexis’s team; one survivor turns on her. She realizes too late that the renegades have been tracking her every move. When officials capture her, she becomes deathly ill. Can DNA splicing save her? Will Yeron’s attempts at rescue jeopardize all their lives?
The author wanted you to know the book will be on sale fro $2.99 – regular 3.99 for the first month of release!
Teodon pointed toward Laurel and held a finger to his lip.
“Do not speak out loud. I will understand the answers you think.”
Okay, Yeron’s badly hurt and so am I. I can’t move him without making his injuries worse.
“All right, then I will levitate him. I know how and I will not see him die. Go ahead of us and lead me to Quyeba’s laboratory. You must forget your injuries and pain. It may seem impossible, but Yeron needs your help. I cannot carry two injured people safely, and if you stay, Laurel will come after you again.”
I understand. Alexis struggled onto her hands and knees.
Harsh chewing and slurping sounds issued from Laurel. Despite the pain wracking her body, Alexis crawled toward the door.
She had to find her way back to the lab. Yeron was moaning, and his cries were growing weaker. Teodon lifted him. He depended on her to lead the way. Any second, Laurel would tire of Woehar and come after her.
Never mind the pain. Find help.
Gritting her teeth, Alexis began her Bataan Death Crawl. Her incisions telegraphed bolts of stabbing pain with each movement. It doesn’t matter; Yeron’s life is on the line. She mind-opened the panel and led Yeron and Teodon through the exit.
Once in the hallway, Teodon hesitated.
“Left or right?”
Woehar had made a sharp right to enter the killing field, Alexis remembered. Left.
She edged along the long stretch of hall. The throbbing from her incision and back brought to mind the pain she’d felt from the rheumatoid arthritis during her job as a respiratory therapist. Her chest tightened at the prospect of navigating that long corridor the way it used to when she faced a heavy shift. No painkillers were forthcoming. She kept going.
It was simple. Woehar had guided right from the laboratory, and then a long stretch of hallway, past two sets of doors, before making her right into the death camp. So Alexis retraced Woehar’s steps and looked for steel doors on her left leading to the lab. Adrenaline would carry her. She’d once read a tale about a mother whose adrenaline rush allowed her to lift a car off her child’s injured body.
Agony bled into her incision with every shift of her knees. The pain was worse in her lower back, where Laurel had kicked her. Sweat rolled down her forehead, dripping on the grid floor. She was leaving bloody handprints and a ribbon of blood. None of that mattered. She strained her ears, listening for familiar voices.
Seconds later, she did hear Quyeba and Zoltar. A few paces further, ungodly spasms tore through her back. The black dots returned. She called for help. She last saw Teodon kneel over Yeron, placing something on his wounded shoulder. Behind them, Laurel emerged from the corridor, growling, her mouth opened wide. The dots swelled and the screams died in Alexis’s throat as the darkness took her.
Author Bio:
Barbara lives near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where she works full time as a respiratory therapist. When she’s not working with her patients, she’s enjoying a fright flick or working on horror and science fiction tales. She’s published Night to Dawn magazine since 2004.
Other books by Barbara include Twilight Healer, City of Brotherly Death, Infinite Sight, and Steel Rose; also novellas Close Liaisons and Life Raft: Earth. She enjoys bringing her medical background to the printed page, and then blending it with supernatural horror. She maintains a presence on Facebook, Linkedin, Twitter, and The Writers Coffeehouse forum. Look for the photos with the Mylar balloons, and you’ll find her.
The only rules are to grab a book (any book), turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader and find a sentence or a few (no spoilers) that grabs you and post it.
Then go over to Freda’s Voice and leave your link so we can visit your 56!
My 56 for this week is from:
Gemina
The Illuminae Files #2
by Amie Kaufman & Jay Kristoff
Genre: YA Science Fiction
From Page 56 in the hardcover.
If nothing was ever going to happen with us – and I know in what passes for reality for you that’s obviously not true, but just pretend – if nothing was ever going to happen, would you want to be my friend?
Would you even be talking to me?
~~~~~
Read on if you want to know more.
Synopsis
Moving to a space station at the edge of the galaxy was always going to be the death of Hanna’s social life. Nobody said it might actually get her killed.
The saga that began with Illuminae continues on board the space station Heimdall, where two new characters will confront the next wave of BeiTech’s assault. Hanna is the station captain’s pampered daughter, Nik the reluctant member of a notorious crime family. But while the pair are struggling with the realities of life aboard the galaxy’s most boring space station, little do they know that Kady Grant and the Hypatia are headed right toward Heimdall, carrying news of the Kerenza invasion.
When an elite BeiTech team invades the station, Hanna and Nik are thrown together to defend their home. But alien predators are picking off the station residents one by one, and a malfunction in the station’s wormhole means the space-time continuum may be ripped in two before dinner. Soon Hanna and Nik aren’t just fighting for their own survival. The fate of everyone on the Hypatia—and possibly the known universe—is in their hands.
Red Queen meets The Hunger Games in this epic novel about what happens when the galaxy’s most deadly weapon masquerades as a senator’s daughter and a hostage of the galactic court.
A Diabolic is ruthless. A Diabolic is powerful. A Diabolic has a single task: Kill in order to protect the person you’ve been created for.
Nemesis is a Diabolic, a humanoid teenager created to protect a galactic senator’s daughter, Sidonia. The two have grown up side by side, but are in no way sisters. Nemesis is expected to give her life for Sidonia, and she would do so gladly. She would also take as many lives as necessary to keep Sidonia safe.
When the power-mad Emperor learns Sidonia’s father is participating in a rebellion, he summons Sidonia to the Galactic court. She is to serve as a hostage. Now, there is only one way for Nemesis to protect Sidonia. She must become her. Nemesis travels to the court disguised as Sidonia—a killing machine masquerading in a world of corrupt politicians and two-faced senators’ children. It’s a nest of vipers with threats on every side, but Nemesis must keep her true abilities a secret or risk everything.
As the Empire begins to fracture and rebellion looms closer, Nemesis learns there is something more to her than just deadly force. She finds a humanity truer than what she encounters from most humans. Amidst all the danger, action, and intrigue, her humanity just might be the thing that saves her life—and the empire.
S.J. Kincaid was born in Alabama, grew up in California, and attended high school in New Hampshire, but it was while living beside a haunted graveyard in Scotland that she realized that she wanted to be a writer. Her debut, Insignia, came out in July of 2012. The second book in the series, Vortex was released in July of 2013. The final book in the trilogy, Catalyst, came out October 28, 2014. Her standalone novel The Diabolic will be released in fall 2016.
Before Tomorrow Pintip Dunn
(Forget Tomorrow #1.5)
Published by: Entangled: Teen
Publication date: October 31st 2016
Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult
Prequel to the New York Times bestselling and award-winning novel, FORGET TOMORROW!
In a world where all seventeen-year-olds receive a memory from their future selves, Logan Russell’s vision is exactly as he expects — and exactly not. He sees himself achieving his greatest wish of becoming a gold-star swimmer, but strangely enough, the vision also shows him locking eyes with a girl from his past, Callie Stone, and experiencing an overwhelming sense of love and belonging.
Logan’s not sure what the memory means, but soon enough, he learns that his old friend Callie is in trouble. She’s received an atypical memory, one where she commits a crime in the future. According to the law, she must be imprisoned, even though she’s done nothing wrong. Now, Logan must decide if he’ll give up his future as a gold-star swimmer and rescue the literal girl of his dreams. All he’ll have to do is defy Fate.
He could see her now, and it made him want to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. If he had known, he never would’ve let her come.
Her face was pale, so pale, and her eyes stood out like stars in the black sky. But they weren’t lustrous stars full of verve and sparkle; no, her stars were the ones at the end of their lives, the ones in danger of blinking out. Her bones looked fragile, her skin was as thin as parchment paper. Bruises decorated her arm like the latest fashion trends. In a mere week, she looked like this. In a week, she had transformed from a girl to an apparition.
His heart shook, and shame flooded him. I’m sorry, Callie. So sorry. I didn’t know. I thought this was what you wanted. I thought I was doing the right thing.
He hadn’t known—but he should’ve. He was the one with the connection to the Underground. The one with access to information other people didn’t have. He should’ve known, and he should’ve stopped her.
But then, so quickly he barely registered it, she crossed the floor and laid her hand on his chest. He blinked—and then blinked again. What was she doing? They had to get out of here.
“You feel amazing,” she said, oblivious to the urgency. She didn’t sound like herself, either. What was going on? And then she shuffled forward until their shoes were touching. He inhaled sharply and forgot everything else. The touch was nothing. He knew that. Synthetic rubber against synthetic rubber. But now they were connected in two spots. Everything inside him sizzled and popped. If she touched him anywhere else, he might explode.
She seemed determined to try. She trailed her hand across his chest, over his shoulders, up, up, up to his face. And then, she rubbed her fingers back and forth, and the breath shot out of him. He’d never felt anything so sweet, so exquisite. It felt so good it almost hurt. No, it did hurt, but if this were pain, he’d go to Limbo for an eternity.
Her fingers skipped to his lips—and he couldn’t take it anymore. His body broke free from the force that was paralyzing him. He could either grab her and kiss her senseless—or he could put a stop to this and get on with the mission.
He struggled. Oh, how he struggled and damned Fate to the moon and back. Every fiber in his body screamed, Do it! Kiss her now! And if they were anywhere else, if it were any other time, he would’ve.
But he couldn’t forget the bruises on her body. If he didn’t break her out now, he’d never be able to live with himself.
He reached up and covered her hand with his trembling fingers. Fate help him, if he was going to end this moment, he wanted at least one touch of his hand against hers. Something for him to remember during his sleepless nights.
He moved her hand from his lips, and it felt like he was dragging it through wet concrete. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he said hoarsely, “but we don’t have much time.”
Her eyes snapped into focus, and everything about her features sharpened. “You’re real?”
Author Pintip Dunn
When her first-grade teacher asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, Pintip replied, “An author.” Although she has pursued other interests over the years, this dream has never wavered.
Pintip graduated from Harvard University, magna cum laude, with an A.B. in English Literature and Language. She received her J.D. at Yale Law School, where she was an editor of the YALE LAW JOURNAL.
Pintip is represented by literary agent Beth Miller of Writers House. She is a 2012 RWA Golden Heart® finalist and a 2014 double-finalist.
She lives with her husband and children in Maryland.
This Alien Warrior will fight—kill—any who dare attempt to take his female.
Dekkir, war chief and military leader has found his mate…a human. She is tiny contrasted to his hulking size, but her luscious curves and delectable scent call out to his heart like no other.
Anthropologist Grace was sent by Earth Military Command to act as emissary to Dekkir’s planet. Her mission was clear: make contact and live among the aliens recording details on their culture and world. The job should’ve been simple but like the story of her life sh*t got complicated fast. Now she has a hot alpha alien warrior trying to claim her like some caveman. WTH?
Adding to the chaos of her life, she’s attacked by her own military command. Dekkir is prepared to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Can they survive the coming battles? Or will they die before he can claim his mate?
Dekkir is the first book in the Galaxy Alien Warriors series, it features steamy sex, thrilling battles, and plenty of romance. All books in this rock-hard science fiction series can be read as standalones, there are no cliffhangers, and happily ever afters are guaranteed!
I smoothed his tangled hair back from his brow, and gentle warmth swelled inside me. Perhaps the bond was not completed, but I could feel it now. And it was time for me to do something about it.
I took off my boots and settled on the bed with him. After a moment, he stirred, and his eyes opened.
He sat up, startled to see me leaning over him, and then stared at my face. “Your eyes,” he murmured. “What have you done?”
“What I knew had to be done. Anything else wouldn’t have been fair to either of us.”
“But—”
I laid a finger on his lips and then moved forward and put my arms around him. It was like embracing a sun-warmed statue. There was nothing soft about him but his skin and hair. I ran my hands over his muscled back through his tunic, eagerly mapping the contours of his body with my fingertips. He shuddered, his eyes hooding again, but held himself still, as if wary of frightening me off. I reassured him the best way I could think of, leaning up and pressing my lips to his.
He caught me in his arms, pulling me against him hungrily. The kiss ignited suddenly as we clung to each other, intensifying until my lips stung, stealing our breaths until we finally had to lean back from each other just to catch them.
“I… do not wish to hurt you,” he murmured. I could feel his muscles tighten with restrained strength as he held me.
I smiled. “You’ve bled for me twice, Dekkir,” I purred as I ran the back of my hand down his cheek. “I’m not worried about you hurting me in any way I wouldn’t like.”
Author Lara LaRue
Lara LaRue is a romance author who lives in New York City. She loves writing sizzling, sexy stories.
To learn more about Lara LaRue and her collection of romance novels, visit her at www.laralarue.com.
It’s always good when I come across a new zombie book. But one with dinosaurs too, how could I resist?!
This was a blast.
Check out my review.
Enjoy the excerpt.
And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!
And………
Pale Rider is currently free on Amazon. Click HERE or on the cover below to grab your free copy!
Pale Rider
Zombies Versus Dinosaurs #1
by James Livingood
Genre: Science Fiction / Fantasy
This is free on Amazon. Just click on the cover to grab your copy!
My Review
I like a good post-apocalyptic story. How could I resist one with zombies and dinosaurs in it.
Mind you, this takes place in modern times. No cavemen here. Civilization has ground to a halt. Humans are no longer at the top of the food chain. Instead, zombies roam freely while humanity cowers, struggling to survive.
Pockets of survivors are trying to change things. They engineer these creatures, similar to dinosaurs, to help with clearing land and planting crops. Others think it’s foolish. So, of course, they fight amongst themselves.
You get the picture. Read it before. But with dinos and zombies? Don’t think so.
Gory, funny, and over the top. This may not be one that wowed me, but it kept me entertained and I read it in one sitting. Plus, the ending was left open for more and I’ll be watching to see if another chapter is released.
3 Stars
~~~~~
Synopsis
“I am often left to wonder why a zombie, walking around in the sun, smells better than a pooping dinosaur.”
Two worlds collide in this action novelette. Zombies have destroyed civilization. Gasoline fuel is no longer an option, but humanity must find a way to survive. In response to trying to restore our way of life, we engineer franken-monsters. Because of their small brains and massive sizes, these beasts make quick work of farming and clearing land. These large creatures are immune to the zombie virus and perform excellently in loud conditions. They are easy to train. They behave like war horses, prone to help charge in and defend our livelihood.
In honor of the past, and to help build our future, we named these creatures dinosaurs.
~~~~~
Excerpt
Avant was massaging his temples when the plan was thunderously shattered by a panicked dinosaur. Clearing land rarely went to plan, but it was rare that it went off course so soon.
The vegetation deeper in the forest was the first sign of trouble. The commotion started with cracking trees as a large animal thumped out of the nearby forest. As if being saddled in a giant rodeo, the brontosaurus kicked and bucked with its back legs. The beast kept jumping from left to right as if something were riding it. Our simple plan gave way to my bellowing commands between the bleating roar of the long-necked dinosaur.
“Re-group point! Re-group point!” I yelled to my crew, pointing down the fence line. This order would cause a lot of noise, but a quiet operation was no longer an option. We also had to continue the plan. Solomon was still preparing for our sweep, though I couldn’t imagine a better crier than a loud, pained dinosaur. Were there ants on its back? No. Those were zombies. The brontosaurus must have been foolish to stop for vegetation or bed down nearby.
~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
James was born in Montana, raised with three brothers, and provided trouble for two parents. In his 20’s he fell in love with the Pacific Northwest. He then moved out to Seattle after college and started a life. In 2014, he started to write full time.
Welcome to the genreCRAVE Science Fiction and Fantasy $1200 Giveaway! We have something really exciting set up for you. First, some KILLER Science Fiction and Fantasy books at a steal, and after that, a chance to enter our $1200 Gift Card Giveaway! Read on for more information, but first, check out the books from our sponsors at the link below!
Ambassador 1: Seeing Red
I had never been on first-name terms with the president, but while I sat there trying hard not to succumb to jet-lag, he chatted about my father, whom I had just visited, and who had finally retired from Lunar Base to his native New Zealand. Sirkonen opened the drawer of his desk and took something out, which he flipped across the gleaming wooden surface. I could do nothing but catch it. A datastick. I turned it over. The black plastic cover reflected the sunlight.
“What’s on it?”
“You might find it useful. Think of it as some . . . personal advice, from me to you. We’ll talk about it later, when you return for your first briefing.” He shut the drawer with a thud as if closing the subject.
This was highly irregular. “Mr President, can I ask—”
He shook his head, and offered me a drink—Finnish vodka, best in the world, he said. While he poured, his hands trembled.
I should have insisted that he tell me what was wrong, but who was I? An unimportant, sending-out-our-feelers type of diplomat, expendable and twenty years his junior. Not the type of person to draw attention to his problems—with alcohol or otherwise.
We made a toast. The heavy scent of the vodka did nothing to improve my alertness.
“Mr Wilson, when you come back in six month’s time, you must present your report to the general assembly. We need to know in detail what sort of regimes we’re dealing with.”
I didn’t understand why he spoke in such empty generalities; I wondered when he was going to open that folder on his desk and sign the contract. Nicha, my Coldi assistant, was waiting in the foyer. We had a whole heap of work to catch up on. I was annoyed that Sirkonen had changed our meeting time at the last minute—the original meeting had been scheduled for tomorrow morning.
Sirkonen stopped speaking.
I stared at him, realising with embarrassment that I’d been off with the fairies. Was I meant to have said something? Was I breaking rule number one of the diplomatic circle: never show any sign of sleep deprivation?
An attack of dizziness overtook me. My vision wavered, as if the world were painted on a silk flag that flapped in the wind, and all the furniture was rimmed in a red aura. “Mr President, I’m—”
I just managed to put my vodka down. The glass hit the wood with a soft clunk, the only sound in the frozen silence.
There was a small sound from outside, a click.
As if stung, Sirkonen turned to the window; his eyes widened.
“Sir?”
The president opened his mouth, but a sharp crack interrupted his words.
—
Releasing Rage
She stepped into the firewall square. The door behind her closed and she authorized the interior door to open.
A buzz swept over her. No, not simply over her. Into her. She gasped, her inhalation of air drawing more of this unknown presence inside her.
It was too much, almost suffocating. Joan swayed, lightheaded. “Do not faint. Do not faint,” she repeated to herself, closing her eyes.
The rolling under her feet gradually stopped. She opened her eyes and wished she hadn’t. Crimson spray covered everywhere she looked. Gore was splattered into the farthest corners, hanging from the ceiling. Cleaner bots scrubbed the walls and floor.
This was why she felt dizzy, she reasoned. She smelled and sensed this butchery.
C899321, the being she had been told was responsible, stood in his uploading dock, a cable inserted into his nape, his towering form naked, covered with blood, his long black hair dripping with it.
He turned his head, locked his gaze with hers and she sucked in her breath. There were worlds of agony, of rage, in those bright blue eyes. This was no rational, logic-driven cyborg. This was a man, an animal, crazed by bloodlust and pain.
“They thought to pacify me with the use of a human female?” he thundered, his deep gravelly voice clawing across her skin, awakening parts in her she didn’t realize slept. “I’d kill you before I allowed you to touch me.”
This insult didn’t hurt her the way he’d intended. Joan knew she wasn’t the slim tiny female males desired. She was solidly built, good breeding stock, as her mother had once said.
She discarded his words and focused on the torment in his tones. He hurt. Horrifically. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, tremendous. Judging by the flex of his powerful biceps and thigh muscles, by the anger radiating from him, he wouldn’t appreciate that response.
He also wouldn’t listen to any command she issued. A reprimand, verbal or physical, would add to his hostility. Some being had already tried to restrain him and failed. The reportedly unbreakable wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the frame of the uploading dock had been shattered, rendered useless.
Joan discarded four solar cycles’ worth of theory on how to handle malfunctioning cyborgs, realizing now that the academy experts knew nothing.
Her late father, however, had taught her how to deal with wild beasts.
“I would never touch you without your permission.” She lowered her gaze, showing submission, recognizing C899321 as the dominant male he was. He’d seek to harm any aggressor, to protect himself and his territory. If she wasn’t female, she suspected she’d already be dead.
“I also would never hurt you.” Joan stuffed a couple of cleaning cloths into her pockets and dropped to her knees, into a puddle of red. The moisture soaked through her flight suit. “I’m here to serve you, to clean you.”
.
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THIS GIVEAWAY IS FOR SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY FANS ONLY. IF YOU ARE NOT AN AVID READER OF THOSE GENRES, YOUR ENTRY WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. Please do not try to find a way around this. There will be other giveaways Enter this one if you love SCIENCE FICTION and FANTASY! Thank you!
Dawn of the Vie Laura Diamond
(Immortal Aliens, #1)
Published by: Curiosity Quills Press
Publication date: October 3rd 2016
Genres: Dystopian, Science Fiction, Young Adult
Since their Arrival less than 30 years ago, immortal Vie rule the planet like the super-predators they are. Enslaved humans are their servants…their entertainment…and their food. Anemies—humans with various types of anemia—are simply exterminated. Their nutritionally deficient blood is useless to the Vie.
Or so it’s thought…
_________
Alex, an Elite Vie, is a bit of a Renaissance Alien. Part scientist, part Raid Specialist, part drug addict, he knows Anemie blood is valuable. Rather than blindly carrying out his boss’s kill order, he convinces some colleagues to spare a few Anemies, not only for study, but also to reserve a secret stock.
The more Anemie blood Alex drinks, the more he slips into delusion, and the more his double life threatens to crumble. But quitting Anemie blood is not an option. Every Anemie has their own personal flavor. Each gives a unique high.
When Alex takes a hit of Justin’s blood, his hallucinations bleed into reality…
_________
Anemie Justin knows his little sister, Sammie, and he are living past their expiration dates. It becomes a guarantee when they’re bitten by a Vie named Alex during a raid. (The bite is fatal, thanks to a toxin carried in Vie saliva.) Alex adds insult to injury by promising Justin a second chance—an antidote in exchange for agreeing to be a lab rat.
And a mule…of his own blood.
When Justin says no, Alex takes off with Sammie.
All Justin has to do is find them, beat Alex, and cure himself and Sammie. All he has is a stake and serious lack of self-preservation.
I hated afternoons the most. Soon after came darkness—the time when a raiding squad could snatch you out of bed and drain all the blood from your body. It was amazing that any Anemies survived with the extermination campaign ridding the world of us red blood cell-deficient freaks.
I gently squeezed my sister’s hand to make sure she kept up. Dirt caked under her fingernails like it caked under mine. The cuff of her torn sleeve had stains like mine. Her pant cuffs were rolled up six times… also like mine. A younger version of me—mouthiness and all—in girl form. Unlike me, Sammie tended to dawdle, and since we held onto the last rung of the society ladder by the tips of our fingers, giving in to distraction could get us hurt—or killed.
My gaze jumped to the pale, indifferent sky then jittered to the partially constructed biodome edge as I walked. Large, clear panels filled the metal framework in a beehive of hexagons. Eventually, the damn thing would cover the entire city, including the river surrounding the island and part of the ocean capping the south side. The project had been progressing since before I was born.
Once the construction workers completed the biodome, Vie wouldn’t have to fear the destructive UV rays of our sun and could wander freely during the day. We’d have no safe period whatsoever. Vie could get us any time.
Author Bio:
Laura Diamond is a board certified psychiatrist currently specializing in emergency psychiatry. She is also an author of all things young adult—both contemporary and paranormal. An avid fan of sci-fi, fantasy, and anything magical, she thrives on quirk, her lucid dreams, and coffee. When she’s not working or writing, she can be found sniffing books and drinking a latte at the bookstore or at home pondering renovations on her 225 year old fixer upper, all while obeying her feline overlords, of course.
A Vegas cocktail waitress. An Indian herbalist. A British chemistry professor. An Italian-American widow. Four unique women with one thing in common: each is haunted by a tragedy from her past. The women are surrounded by ghosts long before they step aboard, but once they do…
~~~~~
Enjoy the glimpse inside.
Somewhere in the Atlantic, 1949
In an ocean as dark and still as death, the Queen floated. The scythe-shaped moon engulfed in mist gave off only a dank tinge of light. Waves skimmed lazily along the Queen’s sides, like the careless caress of an indifferent lover. She was only fifteen years old, but she’d already witnessed so much misery: war, love lost to tragedy, and once, a vile murder that had left a stain on her no sea she traveled had ever washed away.
Now she was about to witness another. The killer’s rage was silent and patient. And yet, she could feel it. In desperation, the Queen willed her fog horn to blow…
***
Under the cover of the dimly lit stairwell on the deserted sports deck, the sailor waited. He’d timed it well. The watch wouldn’t make his rounds up here until after it was over.
Long before he could see his prey, he heard the click of her heels on the planked wood, echoing off the water as she approached. He pressed himself back further into the darkness as she came into view, her eyes focused on what he’d stolen to lure her, carefully placed so that it would be visible to her while he remained hidden. As she bent to pick it up, he stepped swiftly behind her and clamped his forearm around her throat, cutting off her scream and her breath as he pulled her into the shadows.
She felt her windpipe close up and the blood rush to her head. She couldn’t twist around to face him, but ─ oh, God ─ she knew who he was. How ironic. In a life as mousy as the color of her hair, the one impetuous thing she’d dared do, would end her. As dreary as her life had been, she didn’t want it to be over.
So she struggled. She dug her nails into Death’s rigid forearm and clawed at the skin on his elbow. But he only swore at the blood she’d managed to draw and kept that arm hooked resolutely under her chin, dangling her legs up off the deck, pressing even tighter against her throat as she kicked. He shook her and she felt the cool night air hit the sole of her foot as one of her shoes fell off. The thump it made against the deck startled him. He lost his vice hold on her for an instant and she tried again to scream. He slammed his other hand across her nose and mouth. With a rush of stinging pain, the salty iron taste of blood filled her mouth, mingled with the smell of his familiar aftershave. Who’d have thought Death would come wearing Old Spice? He’d groomed himself as carefully for her murder as he once had for her seduction. She went queasy with the realization that his arms were not the only part of his body that felt rigid against her.
But mere seconds later, she was too lightheaded to feel disgust or even fear. She now lay in his arms, compliant, his hand still pressed against her bloodied mouth and nose. Her head was tipped back as he continued to suffocate her and she could see the night sky, a depthless backdrop for the stars that flickered through the gauzy veil of ocean fog. And the moon looked like a grin. Lovers walking the decks below must think it all so romantic. Dimly, she could hear the band playing in the ballroom. She was amazed she could even recognize the tune ─ a new one, just come out that year:
“Some enchanted evening, you may meet a stranger…”
Her final act was to pray that he wouldn’t dump her before she was truly dead. As cruel as his arms were, at least they were warm. She didn’t want the ice cold water to be the last thing she felt.
~~~~~
Author
Patricia V. Davis is the author of the bestselling Harlot’s Sauce: A Memoir of Food, Family, Love, Loss and Greece, and The Diva Doctrine: 16 Universal Principles Every Woman Needs to Know. Her latest work, “Cooking for Ghosts: Book I in The Secret Spice Cafe Trilogy” first of three novels set aboard the RMS Queen Mary, is due to be released in October 2016. Despite the diversity of Patricia’s writing projects, they share the universal theme of “female dynamism,” a term she’s coined which signifies women taking positive action to support each other and better the world around them. To that end, Patricia also founded The Women’s PowerStrategy™ Conference.
I very much enjoyed this series and am thrilled to share it with you.
Scroll down to read my review.
And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!
Title: Storm of Arranon Author: R. E. Sheahan Publisher: Rule of Three Press Pages: 300 Genre: YA Science Fiction/Fantasy
My Review
The story takes place in the future. The daughter of a famous general, Erynn is in training to be an interceptor fighter pilot. A sudden betrayal reveals an alien species has infiltrated the government at its highest levels. They want to harvest the planets of Korin and Arranon for their resources, which means total annihilation. With betrayal everywhere Erynn and her friends are not sure who to trust anymore.
Forced to flee Korin and seek safety on Arranon, Erynn learns about the mystery of her origins and her ability of Prophesy. She begins to understand her connection to the planet. A secret forced upon her since childhood may hold the key to saving both planet if only she can unlock it in time.
What an adventure! It is fantasy and science fiction all rolled up in one.
I really enjoyed reading Storm of Arranon. All of the characters are well-developed and understandable and the world building is almost visual without being too complicated and overshadowing the plot.
Erynn’s connection to the animals on Arranon was fun to read. I kept trying to envision what a Capora looked like – maybe a cross between a yak and a horse? And the Maejen, maybe a giant species of timber wolf?
R.E. Sheahan does a superb job of world building. She shows you the planets, their inhabitants and their cities, revealing an earnest desire for you to easily understand and enter these worlds.
If you have seen Avatar and remember how the flora and fauna all glowed with iridescent,brilliant colors, that is how I picture the Anim Blath.
They are alive, sentient, and they speak to Erynn, sing to her. Like the living voice of Arranon.
There is a budding romance between Jaer and Erynn, but the author kept it in its place. It was not the focal point of the plot but did add to my interest.
Storm of Arranon has magic, action, good and evil, friendship and romance, with an out of this world flavor. I think young readers and adults will enjoy this story. So well written, I was surprised that this was R.E. Sheahan’s debut novel. This story can stand alone and the ending is very satisfying. I am happy to hear there will be more. A great beginning to a series.
4 Stars
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Synopsis
A forbidden birth. A remarkable young woman. A marauding alien society. The battle begins.
A brutal alien society invades Korin and Arranon, intent on destroying the two worlds that make up Cadet Erynn Yager’s home. Forced to expose her strange abilities and reveal her forbidden birth, a guarded web of secrets unravels.
Stranded on an unfamiliar planet of eternal winter and predatory wildlife, the mysterious living consciousness of Arranon intervenes, leading Erynn on a mystical journey.
Aware of Erynn’s potential, the alien enemy pursues her. She struggles to gain control of her growing powers while in a constant race to elude the invaders, and join the forces preparing to fight a mounting occupation.
Erynn’s secret may be her worlds’ only hope, but at the cost of her life. Swept up in a chain reaction of events, Erynn’s dedication extends far beyond service and duty. She learns the true meaning of sacrifice.
Along with courage and hope, Erynn finds something unexpected on her journey of awareness and growth.
Discuss this book at PUYB Virtual Book Club at Goodreads.
Enjoy The Excerpt
TENDRILS OF BLUE STATIC POPPED and snapped around Lieutenant Erynn Yager’s fingers as she tapped the keypad. Black numbers and symbols streamed across the white screen of her monitor. She glanced up, checking the equation on the large overhead at the front of the cramped classroom and smiled, her answer correct.
Delicate blue currents reached out and wrapped around her hands with a faint tingling sensation. In a breath Erynn whispered, “Com avlash.” She brushed at dappled shadows that danced across the pool of sunlight at the edge of her desk, amused by the wispy blue filaments tracing her movements. They flowed like a lazy stream, trailing the path her fingertips traveled before the energy faded. As the static disappeared, she glanced around to make sure no one noticed.
No one ever had.
The buzz of winged centinents drifted in on a warm breeze through the open window next to her. She sighed and fingered the neck of her white uniform shirt, the stiff collar tight and irritating in the rising temperature.
From the front of the classroom the instructor, Major Kendal, his tan uniform meticulous, asked, “Does anyone need more time?” He scanned faces in the room. No one responded and he continued, “I trust you took into account gravitational pull, divided by trajectory angles, while factoring in speed given mass and friction before multiplying . . ..”
Erynn tried to listen, but his incessant droning soon matched the hum from outside.
Static crackled, and the air thickened with a sinking heaviness. The temperature plunged to an icy cold, chilling her moist skin. A sweet, spicy aroma replaced the electronic scent of computers and sour sweat of bodies pressed into a tight space for too long. She glanced out the window and frowned. What—
Broad yellow, orange, and red leaves trembled in the breeze. Brown stone buildings melded with the blue sky and manicured green lawns. The colors ran, blurred, and morphed into dark oily shapes with faint outlines of long arms and legs. She stiffened and squeezed her eyes shut. Images played in her mind like a silent vid in fast-forward.
Flash—a brilliant jeweled city nestled in a deep green forest. Flash—majestic spires of trees surrounding a clearing, the woods tossed in a violent windstorm. Flash—mountain peaks covered by snow and ice.
More impressions swirled and sped by, eclipsing her thoughts, taking control.
Bright pinpoints of red and orange exploded, swarming under her closed lids. The high-pitched sound of a hundred musical instruments in discord screamed in her mind. The syrupy aroma intensified. She caught two words through the cacophony—a plea, and a warning.
“Cadjoo. Mabrath.”
Her chest constricted, unable to expand.
Help. Death.
The meaning of these two words, in a language she’d made up as a child, took her breath. She pushed recognition away, refusing the insistent vision that pried at the corners of her mind seeking purchase.
Prophecy.
The word slithered across her nerves like a dry whisper.
Heart thudding, her lids flew open. At the periphery of her vision, the sparkling colors blinked out, and the heavy atmosphere in the room lifted. Erynn’s ears popped and the shrieking voices died, sudden quiet making her believe the shrill proclamation left her deaf. She jumped up, chair legs screeching backward on polished tile as the desk banged into the seat in front of her. “No!” Her shout rang out in the small, quiet room.
Floor heaving like rolling waves, she leaned against the desk on unsteady legs. Startled students in her weapons-and-tactics class stared at her, most of them shaking their heads and smirking. Ridicule and resentment came as a barrage of stinging barbs digging under her skin. Concentrated emotions of pity, anger, concern, scorn, disgust and envy bombarded against her attempt to focus, to gain control.
In a practiced technique, Erynn envisioned a wide tunnel of white brightness spiraling into a tiny point of light. This method narrowed her exposure to the emotions of others. The reactions assailing her all but disappeared. She hissed quick breaths through clamped teeth and the nauseating sensation of motion stopped.
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Author R.E. Sheahan
I have always been a reader. I love books. When I’m not able to read, I listen to audio books. I started writing while working as a Paramedic/Firefighter in Northern California. Trust me, it’s not like it appears on TV. There was plenty of time for books, mostly reading them. I didn’t seriously start writing until I moved to my ranch in Oregon. While waiting for lambs to be born in the middle of the night, I would head back to the house for an hour or two and sit down at the computer. Before I knew it, I had a manuscript. Not a good one, but a start.I joined critique groups and attended writer’s conferences. I was on the fast track to learning.
In 2013, I received an honorable mention in Writer’s Digest’s Self Published book awards for MG/YA. I guess I am learning something!
Ideas from dreams follow me into warm sunny days or the quiet of falling snow. “What ifs” feed a vivid imagination. Even mistyped phrases may lead to an “aha” moment. Brain storming sessions standing in windy, dark parking lots with fellow writers release thoughts that pry at the corners of my mind, grasping for purchase. Sometimes the ideas pursue me, with persistence.
