Archive for the ‘Science Fiction’ Category

 

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.

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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

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 Beware the Coming Storm…

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Breaker

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The Price of Talent Book 1

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by AK Nevermore

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Genre: Spicy Dystopian SciFi Romance

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On an
alternate earth, a cataclysm has altered a subset of the population.
Talents are persecuted for their psychic and physical mutations,
giving rise to two conflicting societies based upon maintaining
genetic purity. And the Source, a shadowy corporate entity dependent
upon the exploitation of captive Talents, is hunting
them…

Self-exiled to the Outside, Flynn Scot is
oath-bound to a life of strict penance.

Cursed with a vicious temper
and haunted by the blood-stained debauchery of his past, Flynn’s
sworn off women, whiskey, and violence, and doesn’t give a damn
about whispers of the coming war. He sure as hell isn’t in the mood
to make good on a debt when it’s called in, especially when playing
white knight outs him as a Talent, and the damsel in distress as his
soulmate.

On the run from her future
as a broodmare for the Source, escaped Talent Kara Jester is no
distressed damsel.

And the last thing she wants is
to be trapped in a blizzard with a surly—and frustratingly
captivating—thug. Without the suppression meds holding her libido
in check, her biology’s primed to procreate, and Flynn’s growled
assurances that he won’t touch her doesn’t match the hunger in
his eyes.

It doesn’t align with what
fate has in store for them, either.

With elite troops hot on their
heels and the border set to close, it’s a race to the North, away
from Kara’s horrific future and towards the dark past Flynn wants
to keep buried. Clinging to the shreds of his oath, he’s forced to
choose between protecting the woman he’s afraid to love and letting
out the animal he swore he’d never be again. Either may destroy
him, if Kara’s secrets don’t get them killed first.

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Flynn put his book aside and eyed the massive pile of wood Kara had brought in. She stacked the last of the logs against the wall, pensive.

“You good?”

Her smile was forced. “Yeah, it’s just so quiet. I’m not used to it.”

She knelt beside him and unwrapped the compress. It’d long since gone cold. His gaze slid over her inspecting his knee. There was a competence and economy to her motions that gave the impression she was very good at what she was doing. He shivered at her touch, and a muscle in his jaw popped.

She peeked up at him. “Cold hands?”

“Yeah.” They were, but that wasn’t the issue.

“You have to stay off it.” She reached forward like she was going to ruffle his hair, then pulled back when he tensed, biting at her thumb.

Goddamn it. That kicked-dog look was back on her face. Flynn closed his eyes, fighting the urge to pull her into his lap and tell her everything would be okay. Wasn’t his fucking problem.

Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies. Shit was gutting him. Why the hell he felt responsible for her…

He wasn’t. Couldn’t be. Couldn’t handle his own train-wreck. Adding her to that equation would only get her hurt. Last thing he wanted was for her to see what a monster he was. For whatever had been in her eyes before to snuff out.

Screw her not thinking he was a white knight; she’d despise him.

His stomach churned, sick over it.

“Mind if I put on some pants?”

Kara stared at her hands, fingers laced together. “As long as I can get to your knee.”

“Grab me those.” She got his sweats, and he moved the recliner back upright, feeling like an absolute dick. He jerked his head at the cupboard. “Couple cans of soup in there, if you’re hungry.”

She hopped to, like he’d given an order. Flynn’s brow furrowed, pulling on the sweats. What was that about? It was like a part of her had just shut down—

He bit back a groan. That look she had before. The one where he’d sworn she thought she was fucking defective or some shit, and he’d been flat out rejecting her advances. Christ, he wanted to kick his own ass. Having an ugly prick like him say no had to be great for her ego. Motherf—

“How do I…?” She was turning a can over in her hands, frowning.

“Opener’s where you found the forks,” he muttered, watching her push around his meager supply of cutlery. God, he was an asshole, and there wasn’t anything he could say without making it worse.

“This thing?” She held it up for his inspection.

“Yeah, just clip it on and turn the wheel.”

She put her back to him, and it sounded like she was botching the job. Like she needed another blow to her confidence. Flynn sighed, hoisting himself up. So much for staying off his knee.

“You shouldn’t be—”

“I gotta piss.”

Kara turned away, flushing. He limped the six steps to the table and steadied himself with a hand to one side of her, grinning before he could help himself. She was so frickin’ adorable fumbling with the damned thing. How could you be clueless about operating a can opener?

“Here, just—no, not like—come here.” He moved behind her, adjusting her grip, and firmly clipping it onto the side of the can. Damn, she smelled good. As in there-goes-taking-a-piss-right-away good.

“Go on, turn it.” Her fingers were long and slender beneath his. Smooth.

“Like this?” she asked, peeking over her shoulder at him, all innocent and sexy as hell. It twined around him in that heady musk. Flynn’s eyes dropped to her lips—

Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

“Yeah.” He reached past her to grab a stout stick leaning between the cabinet and the wall. Woman was killing him. “Next one’s all you.” He lurched into the bathroom, cursing himself.

Kara’s bra hung limply from the curtain rod, mocking him. He ran the water, splashing the glacial iciness over his head, hard-on throbbing for the umpteenth time today. Pretty soon frostbite wasn’t gonna be a deterrent to jacking off.

And he was supposed to take her north.

Fucking Cal.

Nothing had gone right since he’d answered his call. And now he was stuck with her and a mandate hanging over his head. Keep his dick in his pants. The hell he would, she wanted him, and if she kept offering it up, who was he to say no?

Flynn blew out noisily, scrubbing at his face. No. That wasn’t him. Not anymore, and she deserved better. Emotions running riot, he doused his head in the sink, soaking his shirt in the process.

Whatever. It stank, just like the rest of him. He peeled it off and chucked it onto the pile in the corner, sponging himself down. A Binder. Why the hell did she have to be a Binder? Bred for talent and beauty. They’d done a bang up job with her. Her in that lacy bra flitted across his mind’s eye. Shit, those halos. He’d never seen—Christ, he needed a cold shower. This goddamn knee. He wouldn’t be able to keep his balance in there…though sitting in six inches of freezing water held a certain appeal. He grimaced, grabbed his scissors, and snipped a few errant hairs off his upper lip—

What am I doing?

He threw the scissors back behind the mirror, disgusted with himself. He’d keep his hands off her. Ducking his head, he sighed, staring down at his tented sweats, then at the dirty laundry pile, and finally, the walking stick.

Fuck my life. How the hell was this gonna work? He snorted, trying to remember the last time he’d had to hide an erection.

Oh yeah, about an hour ago.

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**FREEBIE ALERT!**

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**Get the Prequel Breeder FREE!!**

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https://aknevermore.com/books/breaker/breeder/

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AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and
gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a
certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when
she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her
beat-up camo Chucks.

Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated,
she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.

She pays the bills editing, wielding a wicked hot pink pen and writing a
column on SFF. She also belongs to the Authors Guild, is a chapter
treasurer for the RWA, teaches creative writing, and on the rare
occasion, sleeps.

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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

Author Gloria Pearson-Vasey is awarding 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.

Shushan Portal

by Gloria Pearson-Vasey

 

 

Genre: Science Fiction / Thriller

Synopsis

After her sister dies, Meara Deleaney invites her bereaved nephew, Jackson, to accompany her on a book tour to Canada’s Atlantic provinces. Fearful of leaving the security of her apartment, Meara bolsters her courage by recalling the imaginary dragons she and her sister slew as children behind the hollyhock hedge.

As they travel in a motorhome from park to park and bookstore to bookstore, Meara and Jackson are unaware of the manipulating forces intent on preventing their return home. They do, however, realize they are being stalked and therefore welcome the company of another touring author, criminology professor Bartholomew Wolfe.

A long-standing professional relationship between the authors builds to romance and a persuasive invitation to seek shelter at the professor’s lodge. However, to reach the lodge, Meara—now accompanied by her nephew, niece and mother—unsuspectingly travels through a portal which exits in a future dimension near a fortress.

From there, the family is escorted under guard through dangerous territory to a lodge where metaphorical dragons lie in wait, and security comes at a price.

Enjoy this peek inside:

Mystified, they grabbed up their bags and followed Gabe (the lodge manager) along the shore toward a solitary balsam fir. At their approach, a baby bird sitting in a sandy hollow at the base of the tree hopped off and disappeared into a clump of wild grasses.

“We’ve reached our end of the portal,” said Gabe. “It’s important we all huddle together in the hollow vacated by the bird so no one gets left behind as we transition from the OD to the FD.”

Feeling rather foolish, his guests exchanged quizzical smiles as they shuffled together into a loose cluster.

“You’re not huddling! Lean into the person beside you!” commanded Gabe.

“Mother needs to sit down soon,” protested Meara.

“Yes, I’m feeling a bit shaky and I can barely breathe,” said Agnes. “Enough of your inane prattle.”

Assuring them they would soon be enjoying comfortable transportation, Gabe asked them to close their eyes and count out loud to ten. They reluctantly complied, and by the count of four, all slipped into an ever-darkening vortex and lost consciousness. When they regained bewildered awareness, they were at the edge of a wooded area overlooking the stark walls of a fortress enclosing a medieval castle.

“The Shushan Citadel,” whispered Gabe, pointing toward the fortress.

“Can we go in?” asked Penny.

Gabe hushed the girl and hastened his charges toward a multi-legged vehicle camouflaged in dull paint splotches. He identified the vehicle as a solar-wind-powered Centipede and assisted them in entering through a door in its transparent dome.

Within moments of seating themselves, the passengers realized the Centipede was moving.

About Author Gloria Pearson-Vasey:

Gloria Pearson-Vasey weaves contemporary issues into her novels, and likes a story – be it literary fiction, historical fantasy or science fiction – to be authentic and end on a note of hope.

A member of The Writers’ Union of Canada, Pearson-Vasey has also penned non-fiction books on autism and pilgrimage.

The author feels blessed for experiencing the joy and chaos of merging child raising with career, camping, travel and pets.

She lives in a picturesque Ontario town, and enjoys reading, music, country drives and time with family and friends.

Author Links: Website / Facebook / Twitter/X / Goodreads

Purchase Links: Amazon / Amazon CA / Indigo / Booktopia / Waterstones / Abe Books

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The Closed Tunnel

by Anthony Harold

 

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Publication date: October 8th 2024
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction, Suspense

Ink & Cinema Official selection Best First Ten Pages 2023, USA.

Based on real materials.

What if we told you that 3,000 feet underground is a network of high-tech cities connected by tunnels? Yes, right now.

The main character of this story, Tony from New York, accepts a job from the strange head of a pharmaceutical company. It takes him first to the National Geophysical Research Lab on Long Island and then—unexpectedly!—underground.

He finds himself in Luxor Ville, the city of the elite, and explores Hearton City with genius scientists presumed dead or missing on the Surface.

Meanwhile, in the ancient tunnels, the world’s greatest physicists are conducting an unbelievable experiment that should redefine our understanding of the laws of the universe…

Why are the richest people buying up the last subterranean luxury apartments? How are NASA and Neil Armstrong connected to the underground world? How does the hostess of the Elusive Cafe predict the future?

And is there a common secret that unites Hearton City’s inhabitants, or is it an illusion?

Feel the forgotten vibe of the TV series Lost, unlock a jar of puzzles in the wave of The Da Vinci Code, and prepare for a journey into the depths like in Wool/Silo!

The Closed Tunnel units author’s own inventions, suspense, fantasy elements, physical experiments connected to Montauk project, mystery and thriller, fashion (!), real underground wonders, and a pinch of spice.

There are diverse characters, multiple POVs, Elusive Cafe, ancient board game, scientifically created oracle cards, and a central question: whom to trust.

Goodreads / Website / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Chapter 51. Messages to Die For

Professor Ron Jefferson

Bursting through the front door, Ron immediately bolted it from the inside and pushed against it with all his weight. He felt as if he was being pursued. It seemed to him that they would be here in a minute to take him to a distant underground grave and separate him from his son for years.

With the frenzy of a mad scientist, he tore himself away from the door and dashed up the stairs. Desperately searching through a stack of papers on the desk, he sought that particular notebook. He distinctly remembered placing it on the edge of the desk . . .

No, it must be in the top drawer . . . No, dammit, where is it?

The thought that people from the Consortium might have already rifled through his papers and taken the precious notebook shot through his head.

Oh, here it is, on the coffee table by the chair. I must keep a cool head. I’m still in control.

In a flurry of movement, Jefferson swept the papers from the table, snatched up the notebook, frantically flipped through its filled pages, tore them out, and secreted them in a hidden pocket. Then, ripping out a blank sheet, he scribbled down crucial information in a hurried, nearly frantic script, struggling to maintain his composure. Time was of the essence, and he feared they might arrive at any moment.

This made Ron cast anxious glances at the locked office door after every few lines.

“They don’t even need a key, do they? They don’t even need a damn key . . .” he mumbled, startled by his deteriorating mental state.

After filling both sides of the sheet, he hastily folded it several times and concealed it in a spot that strangers would overlook. Still, its intended recipient would undoubtedly uncover—inside the double bottom of the dracaena plant pot.

They won’t find the letter. They just can’t. It must not fall into the wrong hands.

Jefferson paced the room for a minute, uncertain what to hold onto. Then his eyes landed on a picture of his son on the table.

The boy was smiling, hugging their favorite dog.

“Rover . . .” Jefferson whispered.

He opened the adjacent break room and found a golden retriever sleeping peacefully in the middle of a large bed. The dog perked up and bounded toward his master, then jumped with his front paws on his chest.

As Ron stroked Rover’s back, a new plan crystallized in his mind. He decided not to take the priceless notes with him but to hide them in the house, just as he had hidden his letter, in an even more secure location. Here, in the favorite soundproof room of his ever-barking dog.

“Soundproof . . .”

That word triggered a chain of thoughts. He retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, muttering, “I still have some time.” His eyes gleamed with frenzied determination.

A knock on the door made him wince.

“Professor Jefferson, do you require assistance with your packing? Your capsule departs in an hour. We must hurry.”

Ron locked Rover inside the break room so he wouldn’t witness his beloved master leaving. With three heavy steps, Jefferson reached his office door, slowed down . . . and opened it, fully aware that he would never be back to his cozy house again.

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Author Bio:

Anthony Harold is the author of the upcoming sci-fi sensation The Closed Tunnel. This book explores underground cities connected by ancient tunnels and will hit shelves in April 2024.

Anthony holds a Master’s degree in Physics and a Ph.D. in Economics. He has an impressive background of nearly 15 years in the space industry, including developing space-based laser systems and managing finances for a leading rocket company.

Anthony dislikes most modern movies due to plot holes, so he prefers to read and, better yet, write. He’s passionate about delving into the mysteries of Earth, exploring ancient history, and studying the wonders of techno-civilization.

Currently living in Cyprus with his grown son, a lively Jack Russell terrier, and his talented wife, who doubles as his editor and marketer, Anthony enjoys spending his free time on the tennis court, jogging along the coast, or fishing.

Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram – Author / Instagram – Book / TikTok

 

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A physicist discovers the secret to time travel only to find out he was not the first, it is now his task to go back and repair history.

 

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Title: The Edison Enigma

Author: Thomas White

Publication Date: February 29, 2024

Pages: 196

Genre: Scifi/Mystery 

Edison, a Chicago physicist, manages to successfully transport an object through time. Almost immediately following this success Dr. Edison is shut out of the facility and told by benefactor Raphael Barrington, to take a vacation. He is contacted by Don Rivendell, a grizzled old man with a secret. Rivendell explains to Tom that he is not the first person to discover time travel. Someone else went back and changed history by saving a young girl from dying in an internal combustion engine explosion.

Dr. Edison is tasked with going back and fixing history. He travels back to 1904 to find the younger version of Rivendell and stop him from saving the girl.

You can purchase your copy of The Edison Enigma at Amazon at https://t.ly/_NOoo.

 

 

Enjoy this peek inside:

 

Tom, Lori, and Jerzy entered the lab and stood on the landing, looking over the commotion. There was a hustle and bustle of frenetic activity as lab personnel moved from station to station, checking data, preparing modules, and entering critical information.

“Every time I come in here, I expect to see tables with bubbling test tubes and old, toothless women sweeping the floor,” Jerzy said.

Lori laughed. “Well, it would be hard to explain what bubbling test tubes have to do with this project, but I get your drift. We are kinda like Dr. Frankenstein with this whole thing.” Tom vaulted down the stairs and skipped to the control area on the opposite side of the room. He high-fived everyone he passed and crossed to an older, balding man with a semi-circle of gray hair around the fringe of his scalp. A short gray mustache covered most of his upper lip. The man had a slow gait caused mainly by forty straight hours on his feet. Tom hugged him.

“Bruce! This is it! I feel like tap dancing!”

“Well, I’ve put up with worse from you. We’re just running the final check-down now; almost complete. The data you just sent down is perfect.” Bruce had a New Jersey accent highlighted by a Yiddish lilt that caused his mustache to bounce when he spoke.

The retrofitting of the building was designed specifically for this project. Constructed like a sports arena with a high domed ceiling, the lab was ten thousand square feet open from wall to wall. Three levels encircled the room starting at the floor. Each subsequent level rose above the one below and contained a series of computer stations lined up like the NASA control room, collating, interpreting, or generating data. The entire room was connected, hardwired, and air-gapped to The Quint’s central motherboard. The Quint was the fastest and most potent AI computer known to man and contained the most significant elements of learned behavior and artificial intelligence. More significantly, it could determine and pinpoint a specific moment in time.

In the main staging area, in the center of the room, was the masterpiece of the entire project – The Time Tube. The Time Tube was a four-story, transparent tube made from indestructible acrylic conducive to energy absorption. As energy swirled through the Time Tube, it created the power needed for time travel. It stood 18’ tall with an eight-foot diameter. A raised platform ran halfway around and had six steps that led up to a full-size door allowing access to the Tube.

The lab’s roof was six stories high and supported a series of lighting instruments, air conditioning units, and safety mechanisms.  Among the other things that lived in the ceiling was a series of tubing that wrapped around the room like a tornado and converged from the roof to the lab’s centerpiece. This series of tubing was called the Cyclone. Air was pushed through the Cyclone at incredible speeds, producing centrifugal force. That energy transitioned to Euler acceleration, creating a variation in the angular velocity. Theoretically, this opens a window in time and allows the object to pass through.

After years of research, study, and failed experimentation, Tom finally understood that time is, in fact, parallel, meaning that time moves through us rather than us moving through time. In essence, time is an ever-evolving moment. We move from one plane to the next as we move forever forward. The wonder is that it is infinite, never-ending, so we will never reach the edge of time as time continues to build moment next to moment. Once Tom accepted that theory, the means of moving through time began to evolve.

With enough energy, we can freeze ourselves in a moment, thus staying still as time moves on. The challenge became moving through thousands of moments to move back in time, or more accurately, let a specific moment of the past catch up to you. It had taken Tom and his crew almost five years to reach this point. They believed they could generate enough energy to move back and forth within their time sphere to moments that have happened or will happen and return to their own designated moment and survive.

One of the most daunting challenges the team had to overcome when sending something through time was having the entire entity arrive in the same moment. Any portion of an entity that arrived a millisecond later than any other part of that entity would be split in two by the paradox of time. Using an optical lattice clock allowed the team to calculate to a precise moment. When coordinated with The Quint, the top or bottom, front or back, the side to side of any entity would arrive at the same exact moment in time so as not to be split apart.

Subsequently, above the main control area, against the back wall, was the read-out of an optical lattice clock, accurate to one second every 400 million years. It was this technology that allowed Tom and his staff the ability to pinpoint a single moment in time. The optical lattice clock uses laser beams instead of atoms to calculate the second. The light from the laser excites the strontium atoms and increases the accuracy of determination of time.

With The Quint’s exceptional calculation ability, Tom could capture moments within a zeptosecond, one trillionth of a billionth of a second, targeting specific areas of history or periods of time, with phenomenal accuracy.  Projecting these moments into the future would allow them to move forward in time as well. Theoretically, at least.

That theory would be tested this afternoon.

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About the Author
 

 

 

Thomas White began his career as an actor. Several years later he found himself as an Artistic Director for a theatre in Los Angeles and the winner of several Drama-Logue and Critics awards for directing. As Tom’s career grew, he directed and co-produced the world tour of “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Coming Out Of Their Shells”. The show toured for over two years, was translated into seven different languages and seen by close to a million children. Tom served as President and Creative Director for Maiden Lane Entertainment for 24 years and worked on many large-scale corporate event productions that included Harley Davidson, Microsoft, Medtronic Diabetes, and dozens of others. The Edison Enigma is Tom’s third novel following up Justice Rules which was nominated as a finalist in the Pacific Northwest Writers Association 2010 Literary contest, and The Siren’s Scream.

Author Links

Website | X (Twitter) | Facebook 1 | Facebook 2 | Goodreads

 

 

Sponsored By:

 

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“First rate sci-fi novels. Atrium’s worlds compel both in their alien detail—and what they reveal about our own world.” — BookLife

HOME RULE was named a finalist in the Book Excellence Awards announced in April 2024.

**All books are half price at $1.99 in celebration!**

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The Bush Clinic

The Tribal Wars Book 1

by Stella Atrium

Genre: Science Fiction, Space Opera

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A space colonization story about seeking independence and home rule in the face of corporate greed. Tribal women bind together in a war zone where they are discounted as not important enough to save or keep safe.

On Dolvia, Lt. Mike Shaw demands Dr. Greensboro’s doctoring skills at the hospital, forcing the closure of her bush clinic. She witnesses forced labor, forced migration, and the threat of an epidemic from bad water. She sees how tribal women–often wearing burkas–find solutions for saving the children in a conflict zone, and she commits to the their cause for Home Rule.

Brianna Miller is an isolated girl–a mixed-blood orphan–among the Dolviet tribes. With the lessons from Dr. Greensboro, the abuse from soldiers, the sisterhood among victims, Brianna prepares for a future she will choose for herself. But first she must travel offworld.

**On Sale for Only $1.99!**

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The Body Politic

The Tribal Wars Book 2

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Brianna Miller returns to Dolvia where tribal women protest the oppressive rule of Rabbenu Ely by self-torchings in the Cylay Square. Brianna re-establishes her tribal schools and takes on assistant Kelly Osborn who is mixed blood and also a poet.

Kelly visits a neighboring planet Cicero where her aunt Carline Bryant takes over her education. While returning to Dolvia, Kelly meets the Australian adventurer Hershel Henry who has signed on for a tour of Dolvia as a photo-journalist. Henry takes an opportunity to interview the khalif on the opposing side of the tribal wars.

**On Sale for Only $1.99!**

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Home Rule

The Tribal Wars Book 3

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Brianna Miller and rebel leader Karlyhi emerge as leaders uniting the tribes against the offworld mining cartel. Reporter Hershel Henry opens a local newspaper to report a more honest version of events leading to regime change. But will bringing down Rabbenu Ely only stir more violence and unrest?

Unity starts at home. How can the tribes bind together as a nation-state after fighting among themselves for generations? Inspiring leaders are needed, and a flashpoint act that binds individuals to a single cause. When Henry witnesses (and broadcasts) the ninth death-by-fire, this one by respected teacher Kecouroo, all the tribes feel the outrage and call for Rabbenu Ely to step down.

**On Sale for Only $1.99!**

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Tribal Logic

The Tribal Wars Book 4

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From Paris, Jesse Hartley jumps back to Dolvia in the galaxy’s Westend. A bloodless coup on Stargate Junction interrupts her travel plans and sends her in a different direction. Hershel Henry is tasked with rescuing abandoned conscripts after the abusive Company withdraws from asteroid mining.

A change in leadership on Stargate Junction makes all characters question how the future will shape. How to survive the shifting loyalties among the city-states? Will my home even be there when I return?

While on a deep space rescue mission, Hershel Henry misses karsci on Dolvia the Abydian khalif steps down. Within the turmoil, will Henry connect with Jesse Hartley, or is that romance lost forever?

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**Get it for Only .99cents or free in KU! **

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What book do you think everyone should read?

 

The Little Prince is a classic for readers of all ages.

 

Do the characters all come to you at the same time or do some of them come to you as you write? 

 

Some characters are added to a scene so the action work, but later they step forward a primary characters. I’m often as surprised as the reader.

 

What kind of research do you do before you begin writing a book? 

 

Today’s writers are lucky with internet research so that details can be vivid and follow the laws of physics (at the very least).

 

I like to develop magic out of found-in-nature wonders, such as Utcan’s talisman that is a serpent pouch based on a “mermaid’s purse,” shaped in nature by a shark for a developing fetus. Utcan can spy though a hole drilled in the head of a dead fetus in the pouch and view the universe. No lie; true story.

 

What do you think about the current publishing market? 

 

Self-publishing changes every 18 months, and the services play follow the leader. If one group focused on direct sales from the writer’s website, soon enough all groups are offering the same. It’s all pay-for-play, so be certain that you have enough capital stashed away to afford the next steps such as offering audible books.

 

Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

 

I like humor and romance and action, but not so much dark apocalyptic setups where everybody dies after torture. Set-ups begin to bore me. I do find that when writing a long scene, I start the think that somebody has to die soon so the sequence can end.  LOL

 

If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

 

Don’t even get started. Writing is a life style choice. All your days are spent with characters that other people cannot know yet, and at the sacrifice of parties or friends or long walks with the dog.

 

Do you believe in writer’s block?

 

Writing is a daily discipline. There are many tricks to get past the dread of facing the blank page. One principle that I found was that when a scene isn’t working, the problem may reside with earlier scenes where better action is required for continuity. The later event is an outgrowth of a previous action.

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Stella Atrium presents planet stories about female protagonists of diverse ethnicities who encounter obstacles relatable to our lives today. How do women in a conflict zone gain voice in the public square using the few tools available to women?

THE BUSH CLINIC received an Editor’s Pick from BookLife, a 2022 Artisan Book Review Award, and a 2023 Independent Press Award for Science Fiction.

The second novel titled THE BODY POLITIC also received an Editor’s Pick from BookLife and a Artisan Book Review award.

HOME RULE debuted in the Top Ten Amazon rankings for the genre category in August 2023, securing an Editor’s Pick from BookLife, a Literary Titan medallion, and another coveted Artisan Book Review Award for Science Fiction.

TRIBAL LOGIC: Book IV of The Tribal Wars was released in January 2024.

Also be certain to pick up Atrium’s standalone novel SEVEN BEYOND that won a 2014 Reader’s Favorites Award in Science Fiction.

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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Wet, Warm and Noisy by David A. Willson Banner

Wet, Warm and Noisy

by David A. Willson

March 4-29, 2024 Virtual Book Tour

 

 

Synopsis:

A supernatural crime thriller set in Alaska, the Last Frontier…

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Surrounded by the unforgiving climate of the frozen north, Jake Ward, a tenacious Alaska State Trooper Investigator and cancer survivor, is on a relentless quest to regain his health and return to full-duty status. But Ward’s world takes a bone-chilling turn during a routine polygraph examination when a woman escapes custody, leaving an officer critically injured. What started as an ordinary investigation transforms into a complex web of intrigue, where medical experimentation and consciousness collide. In “Wet, Warm, and Noisy,” Willson masterfully blurs the boundaries between law enforcement and the supernatural, leading readers on a heart-pounding journey through a realm where the tangible and the mysterious intersect. With time slipping away, can Ward decipher the enigmas that defy reason, or will forces that transcend human experience overwhelm him? Author David A. Willson, with over two decades of experience as an Alaska State Trooper, brings a rare authenticity to crime fiction that will both enlighten and captivate you. Prepare yourself for an electrifying thriller that challenges the very foundations of our reality.

 

Book Details:

Genre: Speculative Crime Thriller

Published by: Seeker Press Publication Date: March 2024 Number of Pages: 236 ASIN: B0CR4BV1XP Series: A Jake Ward Novel, 1

Book Links: Amazon | Goodreads

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MY REVIEW

I don’t know what it is about frozen tundras that draws me to stories that occur in those environments. Perhaps it’s the cold, harsh environment. And how the characters have to survive it along with whatever means them harm. Perhaps it’s the characters themselves. They have to be double tough to survive and thrive. Or perhaps it’s the group dynamics that must happen on a place so cutoff, so isolated. It’s work together or survival of the fittest.

There were several things I especially loved about this book. One was the characters. They were genuine, with many flaws and vulnerabilities. Each had more than one challenge to overcome. Another was the inside look at investigating from a lawman’s perspective. Even the small steps were intriguing. And  then there was the supernatural element. Something totally foreign to me that felt so real, like it could happen. Last but not least was this story unfolded from several perspectives which made the characters that much more real to me. Explained why they reacted or did what they did.

Wet, Warm And Noisy. There’s a particular quote that explains the mysterious title. It’s remained in my head. Along with everything the author incorporated into this supernatural tale of quantum brain activity. I’m happy to say this book delivered in every way and I’m going to be watching this author now. I have my fingers and toes crossed that he will be writing a sequel, or several.

5 STARS

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Palmer, Alaska – Today
Cool springtime winds kicked up across the shooting range just outside the Palmer city limits. Behind the long mound of dirty ice and gravel that served as a backstop, the majestic Chugach mountains, half-covered in snow, stood proudly in the distance as two men faced a target stand. The target was cardboard, the outline of a human torso stapled to two upright posts. The men were real, however. One was an Alaska State Trooper firearms instructor serving as range master. The other was Trooper Investigator Jacob Ward. The shot timer sounded and Ward’s right hand went to his hip. In a fluid motion, his thumb defeated the retention mechanism and his fingers clasped the handgrip to free the .40 caliber Glock pistol from his belt, then pointed it toward the target. At least he hadn’t gotten hung up on the holster this time. Grip. Clear. Rock-and-lock. Almost a second had already passed when his left hand moved from its place on his solar plexus to the pistol, completing his grip on the gun. The smack step. He pushed it forward to the target, closing one eye as he focused on the front sight. The look step. He imagined his index finger pulling the slack off the trigger as he prepared to deliver two shots, center mass, but couldn’t be sure, because he couldn’t feel it. Not even a bit. Pop. Pop. Two shots. One had gone early, and hit wide of the target because his presentation was terrible. It’d been too long since he’d been to the range and the results were showing. Then, of course, there was the other issue. He aimed the gun higher, focusing on the head of the paper target. Focus. His finger started to pull back again when the shot timer beeped again. Pop. Too late. “Overtime,” the range master said, as if Jake didn’t know. It was his third penalty in as many rounds. “First shot went off early, which wouldn’t be a problem if you had a better presentation, but it’s wide. And slow.” “Yeah.” “Fingers still numb?” “Nah,” Ward lied, then turned back and forth, doing his safety scans before inserting a full magazine and replacing the pistol into the holster at his hip. Frustrated and nervous, he needlessly adjusted his hearing protection. A breeze swept across the range, startling him as it brought a chill to his shaved head. Maybe he should have worn something warmer than his State Trooper ball cap, but the blue BDUs and cap were as close to a uniform as he could get until he got approval for full duty. He wanted to feel like a Trooper today. In a bad way. “Are you pushing this too soon? The Captain is happy to keep you on light duty for a while yet.” “If I don’t get out here and just do it, I’ll never qualify. Neuropathy or not.” “True. But with three overtimes already, I’m not sure you’re gonna make any progress with a qual course today.” The burly range master took a step closer, a concerned look on his face. Ward had rarely seen the man show any feeling – he was all business. “Everyone knows you shoot well, but you’ve had a rough go lately. You’ll get there, but not all at once. Let’s ditch the course and do some slow presentations. Dry practice, maybe. Fundamentals.” But Ward didn’t move, instead squaring up to the target. It wasn’t just the neuropathy and numb fingers. He had weak toes and shaky hands. And shaky confidence. But he wouldn’t get his mojo back by sitting at a desk. And pity didn’t help one bit. “Suit yourself,” the range master said, then let out a huff and took a step back. He paused a moment, then raised his voice back to range levels. “Again, fail to stop drill at seven yards. Five seconds from the holster.” Ward focused, his eyes drilling a hole in the target where he wanted the shots to hit. “Shooter ready!” The timer sounded. * * * The drive to work along the Glenn Highway was uneventful, other than a speeder that insisted on doing eighty-five, tailgating everyone who dared occupy their lane. If he’d been driving his assigned vehicle, Ward would have activated his emergency lights and pulled the punk over for a friendly conversation. But light duty status means no Trooper rig unless you have special permission, not even an unmarked one. And no gun, at least until he could qualify. The occasional wind gust caused Ward’s blue Chevy pickup to sway within the lanes, distracting him from the sound of the political commentary streaming through the truck’s speakers. The talk radio host paused for a news report announcing a shooting at a gas station in Anchorage last night, municipal budget cuts, and something about a missing college kid. There would always be crime, and therefore, plenty of job security. The traffic got thicker as Ward traveled through Eagle River, Anchorage’s closest suburb, then even worse as he exited off the highway onto Muldoon Road. Muldoon became Tudor Road, and he turned into the parking lot of the Alaska Bureau of Investigation. He parked the truck and came through the side entrance, stopping at the break room to see if the coffee was rolling yet, hoping that a fellow caffeine addict had beaten him to work today. The empty pot announced no such luck. A few minutes later, he welcomed a steady stream of black goodness into the pot and he was on his way down the hall to the office. The Alaska Bureau of Investigation’s Technical Crimes Unit was a modest space in a boring, rectangular building in east Anchorage. What happened between those walls, however, was anything but boring. One sergeant, two civilian techs and three investigators were involved in some of the biggest criminal investigations in Alaska. Even when they didn’t have primary case responsibility, they provided critical support to other officers. It was the variety that had attracted Ward to this kind of work. Sure, he had a talent for technology, which helped get the job, but that wasn’t why he was here. What attracted him was the fact that no two days were ever the same. He could write a search warrant for a child exploitation case in the morning, then do a forensic computer exam for a homicide case before lunch. He might kick a door on a building search, only to be called away to sit shotgun in a helicopter, acting as a spotter for a search and rescue. The variety of work duties assigned to an Alaska State Trooper Investigator was unparalleled. Unless you were on light duty. “Ward!” It was Sergeant Ballack down the hall, shouting from his office. Ward got to his feet, snagging his notebook and a pen on the way out of his cubicle. That shout always came with some ‘other duty as assigned,’ or so the trooper saying goes. As always, the sergeant’s office smelled old, musty maybe. He didn’t know if it was Ballack’s bad cologne or his shampoo, but then his sense of smell kinda sucked. Chemotherapy will do that to ya. The Sergeant turned to face Ward as he entered, grabbing a few papers off his desk as he did so. The man had quite the glorious head of hair and it probably took some pretty fancy conditioner to keep its form, adding a good three inches to his already impressive height. “Whatcha got for me, boss?” “Have a seat,” Ballack said. He was impeccably dressed, as always, with a sharp red tie and blue tailored suit. “How ya feeling?” “I’m fine.” “Ward, you’re not fine. Cut the crap. Nobody who’s battling pancreatic cancer is fine. Serious. How are you?” “Surgery went well enough. Chemo is over and my oncologist thinks I’ve got a shot. Neuropathy is getting better every day. I’m ready for full duty, sir.” “My wife has a friend that works at a cancer clinic. She said you’re not out of the woods till you hit five years. Is that right?” Heck, I’d love to make it five years. A few months ago, I thought I was toast. “With pancreatic, it comes back fast, or it doesn’t come back at all. If I make it two years, I’m probably ok.” He didn’t tell him about the other problems, though. Digestive issues causing low energy, the numb fingers and toes, memory lapses, concentration, yada yada. Ya can’t kill cancer cells without killing a lot of other stuff, apparently. “Don’t rush it, ok?” Ballack put down the papers. “I can keep you busy on light duty for a long time.” Not the words he wanted to hear, and standing in the Sarge’s office discussing death and light duty, which was almost as bad, tested Ward’s patience. “What do you have there, Sarge?” “Polygraph. You game?” “Absolutely. What’s the case?” “Palmer patrol picked up some crazy chick on grave shift. Ahem. I mean, ‘a person in crisis.’ She tried to break into a warehouse a couple of nights ago. Then she babbled about being kidnapped, something about a kid, all kinds of nutty stuff.” Ballack rolled his eyes. “I’m thinking poly her, see if she’s cracked. If her claims are legit, we’ll follow up. What do you think?” “I’ve been looking for some actual police work to do.” He reached for the paper. “Find out about the kidnapping. If it happened at all. If you get admissions about why she was trying to get into the warehouse, well, that’s really the target.” “We rarely run polygraphs on victims.” “She’s full of crap. She’s a doper who tried to rob a building and we want to know why. Poly is a pretext for interrogation on the burg.” “That’s fine. I haven’t run a poly in months and I’m going blind on all those public information requests you keep handing me. It’ll give me something real to do.” Ward moved to walk out of the office. “Ward.” He turned back. “Take it easy, son.” “It’s a polygraph, boss.” Ward furrowed his brow. “I’ll survive.” “Sergeant Vance told me about the range.” Crap. “Don’t push it, Ward. I’m not talking about the polygraph, or the range. Just in general. Bodies take time to heal and you’ve been through hell.” He has no idea. “Got it, boss.” “I mean it. We’ll wait for you to be strong.” Ward bit his lip, trying to hold back, but the pity was too much for his pride. “I got it, ok? Got it. You care. Everyone cares. Don’t rush it. Loud and clear. I’m good.” Then he walked out of the room. *** Excerpt from Wet, Warm and Noisy by David A. Willson. Copyright 2024 by David A. Willson. Reproduced with permission from David A. Willson. All rights reserved.

 

 

About Author David A. Willson:
David A. Willson

David A. Willson, a retired Alaska State Trooper with more than two decades of service, brings unmatched authenticity to his crime fiction. During his career, he served as a certified police instructor, polygraph program coordinator, court-certified computer forensics expert and supervisor of both Major Crimes and Technical Crimes units. With over a decade in an investigative capacity, he supervised thousands of felony cases, chasing Alaska’s most dangerous criminals.

Catch Up With Our Author: www.DavidAWillson.com Goodreads BookBub – @DavidAWillson Facebook – @DWillsonAuthor

 

 

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for On The Threshold organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author M. Laszlo will award a $25 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.

On The Threshold

by M. Laszlo

 

 

Genre: Historical Science Fiction

Synopsis

Obsessed with learning the origins of the cosmos, the actual meaning of life, and the true purpose of civilization, a fine Scotsman named Fingal T. Smyth dedicates himself to the study of Plato’s most extraordinary ideas. Convinced of Plato’s belief that humankind possesses any and all innate knowledge deep within the collective unconscious mind, Fingal soon conducts a series of bold, pioneering occult-science experiments by which to resolve the riddle of the universe once and for all. However, Fingal forgets how violent and perilous the animal impulses that reside in the deepest recesses of the unconscious mind. And when Fingal unleashes a mysterious avatar of his innate knowledge, the entity appears as a burning man and immediately seeks to manipulate innocent and unsuspecting people everywhere into immolating themselves. Now, with little hope of returning the fiery figure into his being, Fingal must capture his nemesis before it destroys the world.

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Enjoy this peek inside:

Fräulein Wunderwaffe did not return the smile. Hand on heart, the little girl drew a bit closer. Then, as the hot, animalistic presence undulated all across Fingal’s body, the little girl’s eyes grew wide. Until the little girl’s expression turned to that of a vacant stare.

 

A moment later, her feet pointed inwards, she removed her hat and undid her long, flaxen hair.

 

Again, he cringed. “If you’ve noticed something, ignore all. This hasn’t got anything to do with you.” A third time, he cringed.

 

A most ethereal, lyrical, incomprehensible hiss commenced then: from the other end of the winding, decorative-brick driveway, each clay block shining the color of blue Welsh stone, a sleek Siamese cat with a coat of chocolate-spotted ivory had just appeared. And now the creature raced toward his shadow.

 

As he looked into the animal’s big, searching, blue eyes, the chocolate Siamese studied the off-center tip of his nose. Then the animal turned away, as if to compare the peculiarity with that of some disembodied visage hovering in the distance.

 

Out upon the loch, meanwhile, a miraculous rogue wave suddenly arose—and now the swell crashed against the pebbly strand.

 

Not a moment later, a cool flame crawled across Fingal’s throat. The strange fire rattled, too—not unlike the sound of fallen juniper leaves caught up in the current and dancing against the surface of a stone walkway.

 

Crivens. By now, the alien, pulsating presence held him so tight that he could barely breathe. Before long, he fell to the earth, and as the dreamlike flame continued to move across his throat, he rolled all about—until the illusory sensation of cool warmth wriggled and twisted and dropped into his neck dimple.

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About Author M. Laszlo

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M. Laszlo is an aging recluse who lives in Bath, Ohio. Rumor holds that his pseudonym is a reference to Victor Laszlo, a character in the classic film Casablanca. On the Threshold is his first release with the acclaimed, Australian hybrid house AIA Publishing. Oddly, M. Laszlo insists that his latest work, On the Threshold, does in fact provide the correct answer to the riddle of the universe.

 

Buy Link

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Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Out Of Body organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.

Author Kimberly Baer will award a $25 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.

Out Of Body

by Kimberly Baer

 

 

Genre: YA / Paranormal / SciFi

Synopsis

Those weird dreams Abby Kendrick has been having? Turns out they aren’t dreams after all. They’re out-of-body experiences, like the ones her cousin Logan is having. At first Abby has fun with her new ability, using it to spy on her neighborhood crush and spook a mean girl. But when Logan gets in trouble on the astral plane, the game changes, and Abby must bend the rules of out-of-body travel as she journeys to a distant realm. Her mission is a perilous one, and success is not guaranteed. Can she save Logan and find her way home again? Or will the cousins be lost forever on the astral plane?

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Enjoy this peek inside:

I strode back to the coffee table and pressed the off button on the remote. Instantly the TV went blind and silent, like a lopped-off head. But I didn’t make it to my bedroom. Before I could take another step, I saw it again, that flitting movement near the recliner. This time there was an accompanying noise—the unmistakable rustling of clothing.

I turned in dread, and at long last there was something to see. I felt the briefest flicker of triumph—Ha! Caught you!—before the horror of the situation thumped me in the chest.

My dad’s jacket had come to life. It was floating in the air beside the recliner, puffy and solid as if inhabited by a body. The sleeves were waving: Hey, look at me!

I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. My vision darkened as if I was going to pass out, but if I did, that would be the end of me, because that thing would come over and strangle me. It was a disembodied jacket. It couldn’t be up to any good.

The jacket’s sleeves reached down. They bent at the elbows. Up went the jacket’s zipper with a z-z-zip sound.

Somehow I managed to draw in a big, rasping breath, and I screamed. I screamed loudly enough to wake the Halloween dead.

Then I ran for the front door.

About Author Kimberly Baer:

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Kimberly Baer is an author and professional editor who was born and raised in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, a town marginally famous for having endured three major floods. She even lived there during one of them. She enjoys power-walking on days when it’s not too hot, too cold, too rainy, too snowy, or too windy. On indoor days, you’re likely to find her hard at work on her next novel or binge-watching old episodes of Survivor, her favorite guilty pleasure.

Kim has had her nose in a book practically since birth. Her first story, written at age six, was about a baby chick that hatched out of a little girl’s Easter egg after somehow surviving the hard-boiling process. These days she writes in a variety of genres, including adult romantic suspense, young adult, and middle-grade. Her books are published by The Wild Rose Press and have won several awards.

Author Links: Website / Twitter / Instagram / Facebook / TikTok / Amazon / Goodreads / BookBub

Purchase Links: Amazon / B&N / Apple / BookBub

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For a list of my reviews go HERE.

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