Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Unconditional Catalyst organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.
Author Gail Koger will be awarding a $15 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.
. Unconditional Catalyst
By Gail Koger
Genre: SciFi Comedy
Synopsis
I was sixteen when I found out not only am I an alien hybrid, but monsters called the Tai-Kok were getting ready to invade our world. Guess who gets to stop them? Me! How?
My uncle, the mad scientist, created a machine called the portal that instantaneously sends a test subject from one location to another by converting them into energy. His idea is to port me onto a Tai-Kok ship. All I have to do is leave a bomb, hit the retrieval button on my spiffy traveler’s belt and poof! I’m back on Earth before the Tai-Kok ship goes kaboom. Sounds simple, right?
Wrong. Uncle Ben doesn’t have a clue where I’ll actually appear on the ship. It could be the engine room, the crew quarters, or even the bridge. It’s like playing Russian roulette. The Tai-Kok don’t like surprises or uninvited guests.
To make things even more fun, I have an alien battle commander stuck in my head and I’m related to a powerful Coletti warlord. Yippee. The chances of me living to see eighteen aren’t good.
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Enjoy this peek inside:
“Give ‘em hell.” A wild look in his eyes, Uncle Ben tapped on the console.
The circles of light surrounded me, but this time it felt like a zillion fire ants were crawling over my body. Holy hell! Something had gone wrong! I appeared in midair and dropped like a rock. Smack! I slammed into someone, and my Glock went flying.
My eyes bugged. I was on the bridge of a futuristic warship, and the viewscreen showed one hell of a space battle going on. To make things even more fun, I was lying across the lap of a huge, muscle-bound male wearing black battle armor. Since he was sitting in the captain’s chair, I was assuming he was the boss.
A very angry-looking boss. I blinked. Holy cow was he good-looking, if you were into the whole merciless predator thing. Huh? The red chains woven into his black warrior’s braids matched the communication device on his left wrist. Who knew aliens accessorized and why did I care? I took a deep breath trying to control the panic streaking through me.
A low growl rumbled in his chest.
One look into his disturbingly hostile amber eyes and I knew I was in big trouble. I reached for my retrieval button.
His arms clamped around me painfully, and he spat a bunch of gobbledygook.
“Sorry, I don’t speak that language,” I replied mentally. Somehow, I knew he was psychic.
A harsh voice sounded in my head, “How did you get through our shields.”
“Dunno. My uncle is the scientific genius, not me. I’m just the delivery girl.”
“What do you deliver?”
Did I look stupid? The minute I told him bombs; he’d kill me. I pasted a friendly smile on my face. “Stuff. I’m Lexi and you are?”
“Battle Commander Kaelen. I serve Zarek the Coletti Overlord.”
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About Author Gail Koger:
I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea what a real emergency is. Take this for example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone I took up writing.
High Couch of Silistra, first of the notorious
Silistra Quartet, brings us to a realm where thought alters probability, where
creativity is inextricably linked to the urge to own and dominate, and where
the universe itself is amenable to a focused mind.
Rooted deeply in humanity’s mythic past yet unaware
of the planet Earth, High Couch of Silistra begins one woman’s mythic quest for
self-knowledge – with surprising results.
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High Couch of Silistra
The Silistra Quartet Book 1
by Janet Morris
Genre: Dystopian Epic SciFi Fantasy Romance
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Biology shapes reality…
One woman’s mythic search for self-realization in a distant tomorrow…
Her sensuality was at the core of her world, her quest beyond the civilized
stars.
Aristocrat. Outcast. Picara. Slave. Ruler.
“Engrossing characters in a marvelous adventure.” – Charles N. Brown,
Locus Magazine
“The amazing and erotic adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in
tomorrow’s universe”
– Frederik Pohl
“The best single example of prostitution used in fantasy is Janet Morris’
Silistra series… Estri’s character is most like that of Ishtar who describes
herself as “‘a prostitute compassionate am I'” because she
“symbolizes the creative submission to the demands of instinct, to the
chaos of nature …the free woman, as opposed to the domesticated woman”.
Linking Estri with these lunar and water symbols is not difficult because of
the moon’s eternal virginity (the strength of integrity) links with her changeability
(the prostitute’s switching of lovers). […]
Morris strengthens the moon imagery by having Estri as a
well-keepress because wells, fountains, and the moon as the orb which controls
water have long been associated with fertility, […] In a sense, she is like
the moon because she is apparently eternal, never waxing or waning except in
her pursuit of the quest; she is the prototypical wanderer like the moon and
Ishtar. She is the eternal night symbol of the moon in opposition to the
Day-Keepers […]
At her majority (her
three hundredth birthday), she is given a silver-cubed hologram letter from her
mother, containing a videotape of her conception by the savage bronzed
barbarian god from another world. […] If Estri’s mother then acts as a bawd,
willing her lineage as Well-Keepress to her daughter, then Estri’s
great-grandmother Astria as foundress of the Well becomes a further mother-bawd
figure when she offers her prophetic advice in her letter: “Guard Astria
for you may lose it, and more. Beware of one who is not as he seems. Stray not
in the port city of Baniev …look well about you, for your father’s daughter’s
brother seeks you”. Having no brother that she knows of does not stay
Estri from undertaking the heroic quest of finding her father.”
– Anne K. Kaler, The
Picara: From Hera to Fantasy Heroine
I am Estri Hadrath diet Estrazi, former Well-Keepress of Astria on the planet
Silistra. I have begun three times to tell this story, and three times I have
been interrupted. This, then, the fourth attempt, will surely prove successful.
Perhaps you have heard of Silistra, the planet that was catalyst to the sexual
revolution in the year twenty-two thousand, seven hundred and four Bipedal
Federate Standard Time, or of the Silistran serums that lengthen life and
restore vitality in virtually any bipedal life form, or perhaps you have at
some time contracted the services of a Silistran telepath, or a precognitive,
or a deep reader. It is possible that you have in your own home the
scintillating, indestructible web-cloth woven by our domestic arachnids, or
have seen holograms of our golachits, those intelligent builder-beetles who
exude from their mouths a translucent, superhard substance called gol and
create from this gol, under the guidance of the chit-guards, the formidable and
resplendent structures in which we live and work.
And perhaps you have seen no web-cloth, no gol, never been ill, and are not
interested in sex. If so, you may never have heard of Silistra.
I carry Silistra in my mind’s eye, here under this alien sun. In my mind alone
can I look out the east window of my beloved exercise hall in Well Astria and
see the sun’s rising burst upon the jewel-like towers and keeps of the Inner
Well and a thousand rainbows arc and dance in the greening sky.
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What is something unique/quirky about you?
I breed Morgan horses. I consult with Morgan breeders to help them choose breeding combinations to achieve a desired result.
I am also a song writer; I play bass guitar with my husband Chris who sings and plays guitar. We have an album on MCA records. Look for Christopher Crosby Morris on Soundcloud or N1M.com
Can you, for those who don’t know you already, tell something about yourself and how you became an author?
I wrote my first novel, High Couch of Silistra in 1975; a friend sent it to an agent who chose to represent me; I had already written the second book in the Silistra Quartet and my agent told me not to disclose that until they finalized the contract for the first one. When the publisher learned of the others, Bantam Books bought the succeeding three. When the fourth book was published, the series already had four million copies in print. Suddenly I was a novelist specializing in environmental, gender, historical and political subjects. In the process, Chris became my editor and ultimately a co-writer. Since then, we have co-authored many books.
Who is your hero and why?
Heraclitus of Ephesus, a pre-socratic philosopher, whose Cosmic Fragments foreshadow our knowledge of reality and how to perceive it. Among his precepts is the statement that change alone is unchanging. I’ve worked Heraclitus’ fragments in here and there throughout our books.
Which of your novels can you imagine being made into a movie?
All of them. I write cinematically, our books are vivid adventures I undertake without knowing the destination. I, the Sun, The Sacred Band, and Outpassage are particularly suited to film. The Threshold Series is a feast of opportunities for today’s special effects creators.
What inspired you, to write The Silistra Quartet?
The Silistra Quartet was a unique departure for me and it included issues of women’s rights in the 70’s before Handmaid’s Tale.
Convince us why you feel High Couch of Silistra is a must read.
The Silistra series in which High Couch of Silistra is book 1 blazed a new trail in science fiction and fantasy, many critics saying that I had created a new pantheon of warrior women giving rise to heroines like Xena. Today it is more important than ever for everyone to accept women in leadership roles and I would like to think we had something to do with gaining them more recognition.
Who designed your book covers?
Most of my covers, including High Couch of Silistra, are realized by Roy Mauritsen, a gifted graphic artist.
Advice to writers?
As for advice to writers, here is all I know: write the story you want to read. Start at the beginning, go to the end, and stop. Seriously. From start to finish you must inhabit the construct in a manner that makes the reader choose to continue; if I, as the writer, can’t feel what it’s like being there, my readers can’t either. So close your eyes, look at your feet where they are standing on the story’s ground; tell me what you see. Tell me what you hear. Ask at the end of each paragraph ‘what happens next?’. If you lose touch with it, wait until you’re back inside it. Tell the story that comes to you, and from you, to me.
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Best selling author Janet Morris began writing in
1976 and published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris
Morris or others. She contributed short fiction to the shared universe fantasy
series Thieves World, in which she created the Sacred Band of Stepsons, a
mythical unit of ancient fighters modeled on the Sacred Band of Thebes. She
created, orchestrated, and edited the Bangsian fantasy series Heroes in Hell,
writing stories for the series as well as co-writing the related novel, The
Little Helliad, with Chris Morris. She wrote the bestselling Silistra Quartet
in the 1970s, including High Couch of Silistra, The Golden Sword, Wind from the
Abyss, and The Carnelian Throne. This quartet had more than four million copies
in Bantam print alone, and was translated into German, French, Italian, Russian
and other languages. In the 1980s, Baen Books released a second edition of this
landmark series. The third edition is the Author’s Cut edition, newly revised
by the author for Perseid Press. Most of her fiction work has been in the
fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical
and other novels. Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several
book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal
weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national
security topics.
Janet said: ‘People often ask what book to read
first. I recommend “I, the Sun” if you like ancient history;
“The Sacred Band,” a novel, if you like heroic fantasy; “Lawyers
in Hell” if you like historical fantasy set in hell;
“Outpassage” if you like hard science fiction; “High Couch of
Silistra” if you like far-future dystopian or philosophical novels. I am
most enthusiastic about the definitive Perseid Press Author’s Cut editions,
which I revised and expanded.’
(Dark Horse Series, #1)
Publication date: December 9th 2025
Genres: Adult, Dystopian, New Adult, Science Fiction
Kristen Zimmer, author of The Gravity Between Us, When Sparks Fly, and Forbidden Girl takes readers on an adrenaline-fueled dystopian journey into the future where a scrappy band of rebels rise up to bring down an unequal and unrelenting government.
This is your future.
The United States of America has been gone for over a century.
In its place, The Unified American Territories—a nation divided, the impoverished and the wealthy are separated by a looming steel wall. In the Northern Territories—The Vault, as it is known by its inhabitants—the government rules with an iron fist: All citizens are tested for intelligence and aptitude, thrust into compulsory higher education and saddled with insurmountable debt. All student loans are granted and controlled by a branch of the regime called The Federal Bureau of Education. Failure to repay their debt consigns borrowers to the Knowledge Reclamation Process, a mysterious government-sanctioned brainwashing program that strips them of their education with dire mental and physical side effects.
Fletcher Daniels is a recent college graduate struggling to stay ahead of her arrears. After a visit from Reclamation Agents, she knows her life is about to change for the worse. Enter Youth Opposed to Reclamation, a scrappy band of rebels who try in their own small way to bring some relief to the people of The Vault by smuggling as many potential Reclaimees to safety as possible. When Fletcher meets and falls for fellow female YOR member, Sparrow, her world is twisted away from the one she once knew even more radically. The group offers Fletcher a chance to escape her fate, but through them, she sees the promise of bringing real change to The Vault. History has taught her that even the smallest rebellions can trigger revolutions. It’s time for history to repeat itself.
FLETCHER HAD BEEN ENJOYING the luxury of her sole day off work, reading The Scarlet Letter. Happily. Quietly. Until some unknowable thing, a strange tug in her chest, made her look up. She shut down her antiquated digireader with a tap of the cracked screen and watched from her bedroom window as a sleek, silver sedan pulled to a stop at the curb outside of her dilapidated row house. Agents.
She couldn’t see them through the car’s blacked-out windows, but it was obvious. The simple fact that the vehicle had the shine of something new was enough to give the Agents away. Being from The Vault, or The Northern Territories, as Fletcher’s part of the country was known officially, she rarely saw any cars on the road at all; cars in such impeccable condition were all but complete anomalies. Why do they even bother plastering the Department of Reclamation’s seal on the doors? She wondered.
That hideous seal. Words failed to capture how much Fletcher both loathed and feared it. The great red and black per bend crest, showcasing a scroll of parchment in one half and a tasseled mortarboard in the other, had always been reviled by citizens of The Vault. It meant that someone hadn’t paid their dues, and The Department of Reclamation had come to collect.
The Department of Reclamation employed the Agents who did the strong-arming for The Federal Bureau of Education. While the BOE housed the bookkeepers, The Department of Reclamation’s Agents handled the unseemlier work… and their work was generally quite unseemly. The Governing Council of The Unified American Territories had long ago authorized Reclamation Agents to use brute force “in the event of necessity.” More often than not, visits from Agents did end in violence—if not on their first visit, when a potential Reclaimee received their Notification of Violation, then most definitely on their second visit, when the Agents returned to take the Reclaimee into custody. Reclaimees seldom initiated said violence, of course; Fletcher had heard that most cried or begged for just a few more moments with their loved ones. They would be flogged once or twice and give up or otherwise be knocked out with narcotics. Occasionally, a Reclaimee would try to escape. Those individuals had it much worse. Fletcher closed her eyes and, although it pained her to do it, allowed herself to envision the brutality Agents inflicted upon braver people: Arms twisted so violently that shoulders snapped out their sockets, fingers bent backward with such force that the metacarpals fractured, skulls cracked against living room floors. She shuddered as if her skin had been kissed by an icy wind.
Reclamation Agents were no strangers to The Vault, considering it was the part of the country reserved for the impoverished, the destitute and the disillusioned—those who needed “excessive assistance” from the Government. Those like Fletcher. She would need at least ten more fingers to be able to count the number of times she had seen Agents in her neighborhood in the last week alone. Watching these two men march toward her home, she couldn’t help but wonder if they had come for her this time.
“Fletcher,” her father’s voice boomed through the dimness of her room. “Can you come out here, please?”
“I’ll be right there.”
She peered into the tarnished mirror atop her bedside table. Using the remnants of daylight to aid her vision, she pulled her long blonde hair up into a ponytail. “Alright,” she sighed to herself, her sharp jawline clenching and her hazel eyes burning with angst. “If they are here for you, you’ll find out soon enough.”
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About Author Kristen Zimmer:
Kristen Zimmer is the author of The Gravity Between Us, which spent 12 weeks as the number one best-seller in both the Lesbian Fiction and Lesbian Romance genres on Amazon. It was listed as one of USA Today’s “10 Best books to read for Pride 2018” and in December 2021 was named one of Reader’s Digest ’50 Best Romance Novels of All Time’
That same year, her follow-up novel, When Sparks Fly, debuted as the best-seller in Lesbian Fiction and Lesbian romance, and clung to the spot for four weeks.
Her latest novel, Forbidden Girl, a dark mafia sapphic romance, is available now.
Kristen lives in Salem, Massachusetts— yes, where the witches were.
Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Extraterrestrial Noir organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.
Author Rick Leder will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!
And you can click on the banner to see the other stops on the tour.
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Extraterrestrial Noir
By Rich Leder
Genre: SciFi
Synopsis
A PSYCHO-CRIMINAL EXTRATERRESTRIAL ON A SUBURBAN CUL-DE-SAC
A FAMILY ON THE BRINK OF ALL-ENCOMPASSING INSOLVENCY
A TWELVE-YEAR-OLD UBER-GENIUS DAUGHTER IN THE LINE OF FIRE
CAN SHE SAVE THE FAMILY, NOT TO MENTION THE PLANET?
An extraterrestrial crashes into a suburban cul-de-sac Colonial, absorbs every binary bit of information ever chronicled in all of human history, rearranges its molecules and presents itself as a couple of late and legendary film noir superstars, then immediately displays an appetite for debauchery, depravity, decadence, and destruction, seducing the family into its psychopathic criminal orbit with irresistible Hollywood panache, alluring sexual charisma, and inconceivable intergalactic powers.…all in the name of saving the family from their emotional, marital, and financial ruin.
But uber-genius-daughter Mike Devine figures out fast that the extraterrestrial’s principal plan is to employ its unfathomable interplanetary muscle and implode the planet. Which leaves the fate of her family, not to mention the world, in her twelve-year-old hands.
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Enjoy this peek inside:
“Forget the meteor,” Peter said. “Where’s the hole?”
“There it is,” Lazlo said. But he was pointing at the ceiling, at the same size and shaped hole that ran in a line at a forty-five-degree angle through the house. The cul-de-sac husbands all looked up at the hole, through the dining room, the master bedroom, and the attic to the sky. Only Maggie followed the path down to its conclusion.
“What in the world is that?” she said.
And then the room went silent, as if all the air had been sucked out of the house through the succession of small rectangular holes.
Connie and Maggie had decided on white oak floors when they’d finished the basement, and then covered them with colorful Karastan rugs. Lying on a deep-red-and-brown rug, five feet in front of the giant flat-screen television, surrounded by debris from the various ceilings and floors that followed it down as it smashed through the house, was a silver box.
It was, like the holes it created, the size and shape of a Frye cowboy boot box, but smoother along the edges. Perfectly smooth, in fact. It wasn’t particularly polished, more matte finish than shiny, and was completely unmarked. There was simply no evidence whatsoever that it had burned through the atmosphere and smashed through a suburban Colonial at a million miles an hour.
“It’s like somebody bought a pair of boots and left the box on the floor,” Bill said.
“Doesn’t look like it came crashing down,” Peter agreed.
“Looks like it came in for a landing,” Maggie said.
~~~~~
About Author Rich Leder:
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Rich Leder has been a working writer for more than three decades. His credits include eight novels for Laugh Riot Press and 19 produced movies—television films for CBS, Lifetime, and Hallmark and feature films for Lionsgate, Paramount Pictures, Tri-Star Pictures, Longridge Productions, and Left Bank Films.
He’s been the lead singer in a Detroit rock band, a restaurateur, a Little League coach, an indie film director, a literacy tutor, a magazine editor, a screenwriting coach, a wedding consultant (it’s true), a PTA board member, a HOA president, a commercial real estate agent, and a visiting artist for the UNCW Film Studies Department, all of which, it turns out, was grist for the mill.
Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Predestined organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.
Author Rachel Byrne will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B&N Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner. Don’t forget to enter!
And you can click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
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Predestined
By Rachel Byrne
Genre: SciFi / Mystery
Synopsis
In a place where nothing is as it seems, who can be trusted?
Mysteriously invited to attend the elite Haverford Pines Academy, sixteen-year-old Lina Jamison feels out of place. With mediocre grades and no special talents, she questions why she was chosen to be among her generation’s brightest and most promising teens. Only after Lina saves a fellow trainee’s life does she begin to glimpse her own potential.
Settling into the academy’s training, she starts to uncover secrets and question Haverford Pine’s motives. Why is HP monitoring its trainees’ conversations? How were they selected? And what’s behind the alarming rumors of former trainees meeting dark fates?
As the term progresses, Lina realizes that her presence there may not be a coincidence. With danger lurking around every corner and her own destiny hanging in the balance, Lina must uncover the truth before it’s too late.
Gold Award, Independent Publisher Book Awards – Young Adult Fiction
Gold Award, Readers’ Favorite Book Awards – Young Adult Mystery
2024 Colorado Public Radio “Books We Love”
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Enjoy this peek inside:
In the back of the rental SUV, my stomach burned, and a sour taste flooded my mouth. One week into summer break and my family was dumping me at this strange academy. While I struggled to find my purpose, they would be in Aspen, Emma Claire enjoying a ballet workshop while my parents lounged at the pool.
I had planned to hold my ground and insist on the rec center job, but then Dad got the red-light ticket. As I heard him slam his way through the front door, I raced to intercept him before he could start yelling.
I had briefly debated telling the truth—my anger at the stricken look on Noah’s face as pee ran down his legs and puddled on the floor. I imagined Dad puffing up with pride that I had stood up for a boy being bullied. That fantasy was discarded because I knew Dad wouldn’t get it. He and Mom had never experienced classmates jeering at them and the way it made you curl up inside and want to die.
I then considered accepting the consequences he started listing—no screens, no permit or license until I was seventeen, no allowance, etc. I could handle those but DJ wouldn’t stop until she knew why I had taken the car out in the first place. And that couldn’t happen if I wanted to survive the rest of high school.
Instead of an explanation, I offered him a deal. If I agreed to go to Haverford Pines, he wouldn’t punish me, tell DJ, or ask any questions.
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About Author Rachel Byrne:
Rachel Byrne, a Colorado native, is inspired by her state’s majestic landscapes. With a BA in psychology from Dartmouth College and a master’s in physician assistant studies from the University of Colorado, Rachel has forged a career in psychiatry and addiction medicine. Her role as an educator has fueled her passion for teaching and understanding human behavior.
Driven by a lifelong fascination with the complexities of human nature and a love for American history, Rachel enjoys a career that explores the depths of the human psyche. As a devoted mother and dog lover, she treasures family moments and indulges in hobbies like reading, writing, tennis, and travel. Rachel’s commitment to literature stems from her childhood as a shy bookworm, aiming to create engaging stories that resonate with readers and leave a lasting impact.
A sci-fi-tinged
action-adventure with heart and humor, the TimeLock series is
set in the crime-ridden near future where a bold new technology transforms the
justice system and challenges America’s moral compass. Only one problem—what
happens if you’re innocent?
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The Millennium Paradox
Time Lock Book 3
by Howard Berk & Peter Berk
Genre: SciFi Action Adventure
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The
Award-Winning series co-written by award-winning writer Howard Berk
(“Columbo,” “Mission: Impossible”) and Peter Berk.
Newly relocated to the charming Alaskan town of Caribou Bay
after bidding farewell to his best friends Morgan and Janine Eberly, Yoshi Ito
inadvertently prompts his boss, geneticist Dr. Emory Layton, to try a new
genetic acceleration protocol in a local prison. Using technology from the
TimeLock process, the experiment goes awry.
Instead of yielding the desired medical benefits, it generates a terrifying
outcome that infuses a convicted killer with superhuman powers.
As the killer begins to exact revenge upon his enemies, local helicopter pilot
Tom Brooks recruits the Eberlys’ help to stop the unstoppable force before the
residents of Caribou Bay—and possibly the whole world—are forever at the
killer’s mercy.
TimeLock stole
twenty years from Morgan Eberly’s life. A terrifying new version of the radical
technology might just end it.
Two years after the events of TimeLock, a new and unhinged
president of the United States approves an immoral and illegal plan to develop
a weaponized form of the TimeLock process for use on the battlefield.
But only one man, geneticist Dr. Lionel Garvey, can execute the program. When
both he and his wife Kiyoko are kidnapped in Kyoto, Japan, Morgan and FBI Agent
Janine Price receive a frantic text from Kiyoko’s brother, Yoshi.
Realizing they can’t trust anyone in their own government, Morgan and Janine
fly to Japan and team up with Yoshi for an unauthorized rescue mission. After a
daring raid of a research facility in Japan, the trio realize they have only
delayed the president’s insane plan. They must now execute a dangerous assault
on a frozen corner of Siberia to accomplish their mission. Can Morgan and
Janine stop the president from unleashing a newly weaponized version
of TimeLock before it’s too late?
“A deftly crafted dystopian style science fiction
suspense thriller of a novel, “TimeLock” by the team of Howard and
Peter Berk is a compulsive page turner of a read from cover to cover and
unreservedly recommended . . .” —Midwest
Book Review (TimeLock)
When everyman Morgan Eberly is arrested for a murder he
didn’t commit, he’s subjected to an experimental new technology that instantly
ages prisoners the number of years of their sentence. Now 43 and on the run,
can Morgan and rogue FBI agent Janine Price unlock the truth about TimeLock
before it’s too late to turn back?
An innocent man. A radical punishment.
The clock is ticking . . .
With crime rampant, the President authorizes a hugely controversial
program: TimeLock, a cellular acceleration process whereby select
prisoners are instantly aged the total number of years of their
sentence. In other words – three strikes and you’re old…very old.
A sci-fi-tinged action-adventure with heart and humor, TimeLock is
the first in a new series of novellas set in the crime-ridden near future where
a bold new technology transforms the justice system and challenges America’s
moral compass. Only one problem—what happens if you’re innocent?
What Readers
are saying about the series:
TimeLock is a
high-octane action thriller with a classic feel, reminiscent of Michael
Crichton or Tom Clancy. It’s familiar, but in all the right ways.
The central concept is brilliant . . . The novella is tightly paced,
and there’s not a dull moment. . . .The introduction is particularly engaging,
with an absolutely killer prologue that sucks you in right from the
start. Reading TimeLock, I felt like I was watching a movie . . . It’s a crowd-pleasing blockbuster of a
novella, with all the thrills you’d hope for, and a cracking start to a
series. – Read
the full review
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Whoa!! Okay so this was awesome and I have to say first off- I hope like hell
someone picks this up to make a movie or a show out of it!! This was a
super interesting premise so I was hooked. It moved at a great pace and I was
on the edge of my seat the whole time. -Book Blogger @gryffindorbookishnerd
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
I vastly enjoyed this quick read . . . The writing was keenly honed and
smartly detailed . . . In sum, was a well-plotted and shrewdly paced
action-packed thriller featuring slightly frayed characters and storylines that
were cleverly laced together with wry humor and witty snark.
–Empress DJ/Honolulubelle, Books
and Binding Book Reviews
An award-winning novelist and screenwriter, Howard Berk’s
credits include memorable episodes of such classic TV series as “Columbo,”
(including “By Dawn’s Early Light,” for which guest star Patrick McGoohan won
an Emmy), “Mission: Impossible,” “The Rockford Files,” “The Fall Guy,” “The New
Mike Hammer” and “The Contender,” starring “V” and “The Beastmaster” lead Marc
Singer. Howard Berk also wrote the feature film, “Target,” starring Gene
Hackman and Matt Dillon.
Peter Berk has
written six novels, three TV pilots and a dozen screenplays, including several
with his father, Howard Berk, which became the basis for the TimeLock series
of novels. IE also published Peter’s political murder mystery, First
Line of Defenseand will publish his forthcoming novel, Fireline. Peter and his
family live in Southern California.
Welcome to my stop on the virtual book tour for Among Us organized by Goddess Fish Promotions.
Author V.G. Harrison will be 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.
Among Us
by V.G. Harrison
Genre: SciFi
Synopsis
She’s in the most dangerous place in the world.
Prof. Meridia Vail, a member of the Bridgeway Space Station, has escaped the government stronghold and is on a mission among the human population of this “new” Earth. She needs to find scientists, engineers, researchers, anyone who can help her and her crew get back to their derelict space station that has crossed over into a different dimension. The sooner the better, too. The Bridgeway is in a decaying orbit and has the potential to kill millions, if it crash lands on the planet.
Trusting anyone in this New Earth is going to be hard to come by. The authorities have branded her as a maniac who has escaped from a mental hospital. For the past five years, multiple countries have colluded in declaring no survivors from the Bridgeway Space Station incident. When Meridia’s finally able to convince a university professor, Dr. Dana Haden, of who she is, Prof. Vail realizes she’s not home-free yet. She has to convince the entire world who she is and expose the lies nations have been telling their citizens. Will governments be forced to free her crew so they can work the problem…or will they take their chances and nuke the station from orbit to bury their secrets?
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Enjoy this peek inside:
“Wait! Stop!” Dr. Haden grabbed the chair, but wasn’t able to yank it from my grip. She placed herself between me and the window. “What are you doing? Put this thing down.”
“He threatened you,” I replied. “I can break the glass with this and we can make it out on the ledge. I might be able to even carry you in my arms and we jump–”
“Oh my God, no.” She shook her head before smiling and motioning for me to lower the chair. “It’s okay. I swear. He’s a friend. Put the chair down; he won’t hurt us.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She eased the chair out of my hands and placed it back on the floor. A sigh released the tension from her face and shoulders. “You would’ve seriously thrown that thing and tossed me across your shoulder before jumping three stories to your death?”
“Of course. I don’t know if I would’ve come away unscathed, but I would’ve taken the chance, as you’re my only chance to get back to my space station right now.”
“Wow. That’s some friendship.”
“You’re welcome…I think.” I half-smiled.
“I’m not even sure my husband would’ve gone to those depths.” A chuckle seemed to calm her more as she made her way to the door. Her hand motioned for me to relax. “It’s just my colleague, Professor Carlin.”
She opened the door and motioned for him to enter.
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About Author V.G. Harrison:
Amazon best-selling author, V.G. Harrison enjoys creating smart heroines who are more comfortable dealing with things like Fine-structure constant and quantum entanglement than the fallout from their conflict. She loves to write stories that leave her audience so engaged they can’t sleep at night, thinking about the possibilities.
V.G. holds a Bachelors in Biomedical Engineering and a Masters in Information Technology. When she’s not writing, she’s an IT manager for software company.
Her ever-growing list of hobbies include astronomy, attending comic cons, keeping an eye on the cryptocurrency and stock markets, hydroponics gardening, hiking, and connecting with her daughter on a cool level. Building Lego sets at night with milk and cookies on the side come in handy for that.
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…
Chaos rules the city of Glynfyls.
And all Flynn Scot can do is watch. With the hill frozen in
the shadow of the coming Incursion, and the commons giving into a bacchanal
madness, the city’s chances of survival are dire. His hands tied by mandates,
in order to do what he knows is right and give them a fighting chance, Flynn
will have to risk everything by doing wrong.
Meanwhile, Kara can’t hide her declining health.
The Triam’s location remains elusive, and the window to get
the treatment she needs is closing. Unwilling to give in, or idly await her
fate, she hatches a daring plan to help save the city, even if it ends up
destroying her politically.
Because Titus’s army is marching closer to Glynfyls, and
they’re not alone.
With them comes a monster that threatens not only the city,
but the entire Breaker hierarchy. As the world watches on tenterhooks, Flynn
and Kara race against the clock to save their people, but there’s no guarantee
they can save themselves.
Flynn’s bedroom door slammed open and the lights flicked on.
“Get up.”
The hell? He blinked, lifting his aching head to glare at Rogan. Man looked even more beat to shit now that the bruising from their fight had set in. One side of his jaw was twice the size it should be, and he didn’t look any happier to be standing there than Flynn was to see him.
“Fuck off,” he growled, his arms tightening around Kara. She murmured in her sleep, a “V” pinching between her brows as she snuggled against his chest.
Rogan laughed. “Wish I could, kid, but Titus’s troops are crossing the border, the city’s burning down again, cattle are running riot through the streets—” He swiped up a pair of pants from the floor and chucked them at Flynn. “—and we’re on fire brigade.”
Goddamn it.
“Are you serious?” he hissed, catching them as he pushed up to sit.
Kara huffed and curled into a little ball, out cold despite the asshole’s bullshit. Flynn frowned, but wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t slept at all the night after succumbing, and he damned well knew the toll of unmaking the damage Otto had done to her bitch mother was more than Kara was letting on.
Rogan’s gaze dropped to her bared shoulder and slid down her back to the blankets pooling around her hips. His tongue flicked over his lip. “Think I’d be in here otherwise?”
Flynn growled, ripping a blanket up to cover her. If that motherfucker even thought about—goddamn it. Man had just handed Flynn his own ass in front of the entire Breaker line. If Rogan, the Alpha fucking Prime, wanted to challenge for her, he’d win, and they both knew it.
So did the thing growling in the recesses of Flynn’s psyche, its hackles raised. Wasn’t conducive to him being in a particularly cooperative mood.
He slung his legs over the side of the mattress, talent crackling around his fingers. Goddamn it. That didn’t help either. He snuffed the sparks in his fists and pulled on his pants. Fabric was still sticky with gore. What time was it? His eyes found the clock as he zipped up. A little after two in the morning. Didn’t this fucking city sleep? “When did Titus cross the border?”
“Vanguard’s a couple hundred miles in and moving fast,” Rogan said as he reached down to scritch behind Hiss’s ears. Stupid cat let him. “Stonefist called Quorum. I was on my way to wake your ass up for that when the fire broke out. Shit’s officially hit the fan.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” Flynn grabbed a shirt and kicked into his boots, still glowering at Rogan. Asshole shot another look at Kara before he flashed that goddamned grin and backed from the room. Flynn killed the lights and just stopped himself from slamming the door shut. God, he hated that prick.
“What the hell are they rioting about now?” he asked, smacking the button for the lift.
Rogan shrugged and stepped in. “They’re throwing one hell of a party on the lower rungs, but this ain’t that, far as I can tell. Heard somebody say a cow kicked over a lantern, and it’s Chicago all over again.”
“Chicago?” Flynn asked, hitting the button for the main floor.
The Breaker rolled his eyes. “You know, big fire, O’Leary’s—never mind. All you need to worry about is it putting it out.” He pushed past him as the lift door opened and stalked toward the gate.
Flynn’s temper spiked and his talent sparked with it. “Me? How am I supposed to—” He stopped to scuff out a patch of smoldering carpet. Christ, that was getting old.
“Right there all the time, isn’t it?”
Flynn scowled. “Yeah. Weren’t you gonna do something about that?” Talent flared around his fingers again, and he swore.
Rogan sighed, glancing at the gate. “Right. How do you control your Shade ability?”
Was he an idiot? “Control my—I don’t. It’s not like—I gotta pull it to use it. They call it cloaking for a reason. It’s like gathering—whatever, it doesn’t matter. I asked about this Breaker shit.”
“Everything matters. Nothing’s important.”
“Did you just quote Nietzsche?”
Breaker cocked an eyebrow. “Did you just call me out for quoting Nietzsche?”
“Christ, you’re a dick.”
“You should talk. Look, in case you haven’t figured it out, Breaker talent isn’t static. It’s tied to your emotions, just like bloodlust. The fact that you’re as moody as a teenaged girl doesn’t help.”
Flynn glared at the man, his teeth gritting together at another flare of talent. “Then what do you suggest?”
“You know anything about physics?” Flynn’s eyes narrowed, and Rogan sighed. “Look, I’m not any more thrilled about this arrangement than you are, so let’s do it and have done. Easiest way for me to explain it is to equate Breaker talent to Ohm’s law—”
“Ionic flow. Got it. Energy is dissipated as heat. Then what?”
Rogan’s brow raised. “Then you reach equilibrium by dissipating it, maintaining the state by breathing the potential out, and letting talent cycle through you,” the Breaker said. “You don’t let it build until you need it.”
“How the hell do I do that?”
Rogan made a come hither motion. “Watch and learn.”
They stepped through the gate and into hell. Flynn wiped his brow, his skin abruptly too tight. Smoke seared down his throat and hung thick in the air, stinging his eyes and occluding the morass of standing water and hard baked sludge coating the street. The haze softened the edges of the blaze as a line of Fixers fought to keep it in stasis, while every Fetch able to shift an oxygen molecule battled to snuff the flames. Their crimson blue flicker and the silver and bronze glow of talent warred, filling the streets with an unearthly glow. Within the thin shell of talent, booms shook the ground. A rain of smoldering debris peppered the street, and a fucking cow ran by.
Rogan held out a hand to him, and Flynn scowled. “Thanks, Gramps, but I promise I’m big enough not to get lost.”
“Asshole. I want you to feel how I channel the fire’s potential.”
“I gotta hold your hand to do it?”
“I can put my foot up your ass if you’d prefer.”
Flynn eyed the man’s outstretched hand. Something big exploded, accompanied by a whomp of flame
“Take your time. Not like there’s any reason to hurry.”
Flynn glared at him and slapped his palm across Rogan’s. The Breaker’s halos flared and talent welled, crackling between them. Instead of something blowing up, it was a steady draw. The raging flames shuddered in response, dying back, and the ground beneath them hummed with a weird vibration. What the hell?
“Feel that?”
“Yeah, what’re you doing?”
Whatever it was, wasn’t easy. Sweat poured from the Breaker, and it wasn’t from the ungodly temperature. His halos bathed everything within a fifty-foot radius a gruesome scarlet. “Acting as a ground,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Like it’s electricity?”
“Yeah. Same principle, and you keep shorting.” He snorted at Flynn’s scowl. “Instead of letting the energy flow to heat, I’m converting the fire’s potential and acting as a conduit, redirecting it out and away. Try reaching for it. If you can call it, you can snuff it, and I could use the help. There’s some kind of accelerant in there—” The ground shook with another series of explosions and hot concrete rained down around them.
Fuck that. Flynn threw up a shield. He pushed it out and away, reinforcing the Fixer’s line. They slumped against one another as he took up the burden, the power of the battering flames sending him back a step. Christ. Yeah, there sure as hell was some kind of accelerant in there. Shit was burning like it was jet fuel. He wiped a hand across his brow, dizzy with the heat.
“Wrong talent, asshole,” Rogan gritted out.
Flynn scowled at him, trying to focus. Reach for the fire…how the fuck was he supposed to…he eased his shield and the sense of it hit him square in the chest. Flynn grunted, stumbling back again.
“Yeah, no shit. Now let it flow through you and ground it out.”
Flynn took a shaky breath; the intensity of that potential Rogan had been talking about was crushing. How the fuck was he handling all that? Man should be a blackened smear—
“Anytime now, kid.” Rogan grimaced.
Shit. Flynn’s jaw tensed, trying to take a hold—he eased his shield again and the flames surged forward. He slammed it back up and the fire’s potential bypassed him, arcing from his grip. Christ, he couldn’t—
“Kara still make that little noise when she comes?”
Flynn’s shield disintegrated as the blaze’s potential flooded into him with his rage. It built, his hair standing on end. He was gonna kill—
“Ground it!”
—that motherfucker. Flynn bellowed, channeling the fire’s potential into the ground along with what Rogan was converting. The street buckled and the surrounding buildings listed. The two men fell to their knees, the inferno sucking down like someone had pulled its string, guttering.
Rogan collapsed to sit, swiping a hand over his brow. “Not bad—”
Flynn’s fist took him in the jaw, knocking him back. “Anything about that ever comes out of your mouth again, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“No promises.” Asshole chuckled, wiping the corner of his mouth as he sat up. “And don’t expect it to go any better than your last attempt…but you’re welcome to keep trying.”
God, he hated him. Flynn’s brows furrowed, taking in the smoking ruins. At the far end of the block, Markham spoke to a group of Fetches. He patted one of them on the shoulder, and they staggered off, too exhausted to shift away.
Flynn knew how they felt. His insides were hollow with what’d just gone through him. His glower deepened as his eyes flicked to Rogan. Shithead had baited him, again, and he’d played right into his hands, again. Goddamn his fucking temper. That thing inside him…it was too fucking close. Flynn frowned, staring at his palms, the memory of blood staining them. No. Not here. He was safe in the city.
“When you call it, where does the fire come from?” he asked, wiping this hands on his pants and trying to distract himself. “Doesn’t the potential need a catalyst?”
“Look at you all brainy when you’re not taking potshots,” Rogan muttered, rocking his mangled jaw. “That’s a little more complicated, and I’m spent. It’ll wait.”
Flynn’s brows bunched, glaring at the man who’d claimed to be his great-grandfather. Attitude was on point, but any physical resemblance…to him, to Lot. Complexion was all wrong, but maybe something around the eyes…
The man flashed his teeth. “Yes?”
Christ, that was it. That goddamned grin. Flynn looked away. Markham was headed in their direction, albeit at a snail’s pace. “You the one that figured out how it works? The whole electricity thing?”
“A Breaker’s talent? No. Not controlling it, at least. I was pretty hell-bent on everything but. When I was ready to listen, most of the hard work had been done.”
Flynn flicked a bit of rubble away. Asphalt had caved in around them like a giant fist’d smashed into the street. “Did you want it?”
Rogan’s face went stoney. “When the Surge blasted us back to the Dark Ages, people lost their shit, turned on each other. Nobody understood it. Thought the world was coming to an end, God was punishing us…first to espouse the Sons’ ideology were Talents. Turned into a goddamned cult of suicide bombers. You could hear them imploding. See them flare up at night, taking out everything around them until the Corporation showed up with their promise of a cure. So, no. None of us wanted it, but it’s what we got. Didn’t that asshole teach you anything?”
Flynn chewed his lip. “Cal wasn’t around all that much.” Not even when he was.
“What about Lot?”
A surge of temper sent talent flickering around Flynn’s fingers. “What about him?”
“Never mind.” Rogan swore under his breath. “You’re clamping down and getting all pent up again. Breathe it through you.”
Flynn let out a slow exhale. Damn, he wanted a cigar. Thinking about his father, his Shade talent coming in… Jesus, that’d been a miserable fucking experience, but at least the only person that’d gotten hurt had been him. Accident or not, he’d killed people when Kara had been abducted. Guilt tamped down his anger, self-loathing rising up to snuff what was left of it. He needed to get a handle on this before he lost his shit again and took out any more of the city. Another incident like that, and the Pinch would be prime real estate.
Rogan’s mouth screwed up like he wanted to ask something and knew he wasn’t gonna like the answer. Goddamn it.
“Look, the less Lot and I see of each other, the better,” Flynn said, beating him to it. “Ascending to head was supposed to be the end of it. Come up here, assume the fucking position, and spend the rest of my life voting on granite curbing.” Shit, that almost sounded good. He kicked away some debris, the warmth of the ruined pavement cozy in comparison to the arctic air battering down the radiant heat.
“Funny. You don’t strike me as a white picket fence, two kids and a dog kind of guy.”
A gust of wind sent a squall thick with ash at them. Flynn put a hand up, keeping it from his eyes and spat the grit from his mouth. He’d take the fence and kids in a heartbeat right about now. The dog could go fuck itself, but the rest of it sounded like a dream come true. “Kara would’ve been happy. Safe.”
Rogan cocked an eyebrow. “Would she?”
A defeated numbness stole over Flynn. Probably not on either count. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met. Didn’t want the same things. Christ, what did she want? It pissed him off that figuring it out was taking a backseat to everything else, and there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do to change that.
He grimaced as he met Rogan’s eye. “Probably not. I just—It feels like I’m being steamrolled towards something, and no matter what I—” Flynn flushed. What the hell had possessed him to drop that nugget? He mussed ash from his hair, the reality of his goddamned existence weighing him down. The remaining flickers of talent around his fingers drained away. Damn. This shit really was tied to his emotions.
“That’s it. Low and slow. Breathe it out. You get worked up, ground what pulses through you.” Rogan leaned back on his elbows. “The universe usually pushes you for a reason. Why fight it?”
“Because I don’t trust it.”
“No, you don’t trust yourself.” Flynn scowled, and the asshole’s grin was back. “You should. That was good work just now, but it would’ve been better if you’d get over that goddamned reluctance and stop second-guessing yourself. You’re Breaker, kid. Acting on instinct is what we do. Leave the overthinking to the Binders.”
Markham huffed over, and Rogan stood. Flynn rose with him. The only thing his instincts were screaming at him to do was to bury the prick.
Except he’d tried that and failed miserably. Motherfucker. “So, what’s next?”
“Combat nap. Phyllis’s already filed the paperwork to officially step down. Between assuming First, and everything else making up this shit show, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have to drink breakfast if I wanna get through the rest of the day.” Rogan frowned, scratching his stubble. “Should probably shave.”
Flynn rolled his eyes. “No, I meant talent-wise.”
“Try to not blow anything up until the Source gets here. If there’s an after…” Rogan shrugged. “We’ll work on your control. Start with little shit. Light some candles, break frozen peas.” A smile ghosted over his lips, then he pushed past Flynn with a growl. “Get a handle on your equilibrium first.”
Man stalked to the gate and was gone. What the hell had that been about?
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**FREEBIE ALERT!**
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Get a free bonus novella, Conspirator at the back of the book!
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.
Step into a world where the Pumpkin King reigns supreme, and other tales haunt your every thought.
Or step out of this world into the sheer terror of the unknowable and incomprehensible deep space.
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The Pumpkin King and Other Tales of Terror
by R. David Fulcher
Genre: Horror Short Stories
Gravelight is pleased to present the first volume in a two-book series collecting the horror fiction of R. David Fulcher!
THE PUMPKIN KING AND OTHER TALES OF TERROR offers up 20 works by Fulcher, each updated and revised by the author. Each tale has been fully revised by the author, making these the definitive versions of the stories.
The collection Includes
*Eulogy to E.A. Poe
*Marienburg Castle
*The Pumpkin King
*Heavenly Strains
*A Matter of Taste
*My Days With Mahalia
*A Night Out With Mr. Bones
*Merry Are We of the Lake
*The Night Flyer
*Pumpkin Seed Spit
*A Night for Animals
*The Man Next Door
*Extra! Extra!
*The Flight Dummy
*For the Children
*The Watcher’s Web
*Dreaming, The Copper City
*The Huntress
*The Faerie Lights
*The October Man
Features a wrap-around cover and contemporary design. Perfect for Halloween or dark, rainy nights.
Introducing
ASTEROID 6 AND OTHER TALES OF COSMIC HORROR! The companion book to R. David
Fulcher’s 2023 indie horror hit, THE PUMPKIN KING AND OTHER TALES OF TERROR!
In this newest collection, Fulcher explores concepts of the insignificance of
human existence, terror of the unknowable and incomprehensible, and more motifs
found in edlritch horror. Fulcher draws his influence from a wide assortment of
authors ranging from Poe and Fritz Leiber to Stephen King and Dean Koontz.
The title story features an astronaut named Jones who, while on
asteroid-clearing duty, crash lands onto a massive asteroid where he is drawn
to an alien monolith and discovering an ancient race trapped in stasis. Does he
dare set it free?
R. DAVID FULCHER is an author of horror, science fiction, fantasy, and poetry. Major literary influences include H.P. Lovecraft, Dean Koontz, Edgar Allen Poe, Fritz Lieber, and Stephen King. Fulcher’s first novel, a historical drama set in World War II, Trains to Nowhere, and his second novel, a collection of fantasy and science fiction short stories, Blood Spiders and Dark Moon, are both available from authorhouse.com and Amazon.
FULCHER’S work has appeared in numerous small press publications including Lovecraft’s Mystery Magazine, Black Satellite, The Martian Wave, Burning Sky, Shadowlands, Twilight Showcase, Heliocentric Net, Gateways, Weird Times, Freaky Frights and the anthologies Dimensions and Silken Ropes. Fulcher’s work can also be found in the DPP collection Halloween Party 2019, available at Amazon and at the DPP online store. A passion for the written word has also inspired Fulcher to edit and publish the literary magazine, Samsara (samsaramagazine.net), which has showcased writers and poets for over a decade. Fulcher resides in Ashburn, Virginia, with his wife Lisa, and their rambunctious cats.
ATOMICA – BETWEEN SEA AND SKY, is a compelling saga of love, duty,
and sacrifice set against the stunning backdrop of a lush tropical
island— where the line between hero and villain blurs in the
shadows of a forgotten world.
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Atomica – Between Sea and Sky
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Atomica Book 1
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by Heather McKenzie
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Genre: YA SciFi Fantasy Romance
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“Never judge based on appearances. Sometimes the most unassuming
can be the deadliest.”
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A compelling saga
of love, duty, and sacrifice set against the stunning backdrop of a
lush tropical island—where the line between hero and villain blurs
in the shadows of a forgotten world…
.
In a land
ravaged by ancient vendettas, nineteen-year-old Eva has vowed to
protect Zoleya, a petite, blue-eyed girl with a powerful gift. But
when a catastrophic shipwreck strands her on a mysterious tropical
island and Zoleya disappears, Eva is forced to abandon her duty and
form alliances with a group of castaways to survive. While facing the
island’s perils and a corrupt band of Raiders intent on her
capture, Eva fights to reclaim her title as Zoleya’s
Guardian.
.
Kade Thorn, a hunter programmed to seek and
destroy all remnants of forbidden technology, battles his opposing
impulses. Bound by ancient markings etched into his skin that incite
violence, he finds himself torn between blindly obeying his directive
or pursuing a powerful attraction to Eva, knowing either choice will
get him killed.
.
Forced to rely on each other, Eva and Kade
seek refuge deep within the island’s jungle and become conflicted
about where their loyalties lie. Will they find their way back to
their predetermined paths or forge a new destiny together? The fate
of Zoleya—the catalyst to either save the world or destroy it—hangs
in the balance.
I had no idea how many days had passed when the ship began losing battle with a raging storm. All of us being held captive by the Raiders had gone through hell and back already, so this was an additional layer of torture. We were all hurting and scared to bits, yet the sea couldn’t care less—it was going to drown us one way or another.
And maybe that was a blessing.
As I watched Zoleya from across the cage, water began dripping down from the oily planks overhead and between the unbreakable iron bars. We were in the belly of the ship, the women cowering in the corner either praying or crying, and the men moaning in agony and fear. I was helpless to do anything, only able to watch dried blood turn to tiny red rivers on Zoleya’s skin as she became soaked to the bone. Our journey across Aldira had been hellacious, to say the least, but being responsible for the state she was in felt worse than a million knives slicing up my heart. I was supposed to protect her, and I had failed.
“We’ll be okay,” said a doe-eyed woman with arms and legs thin as toothpicks. All her front teeth were broken, making her hard to understand. “The storm will pass soon.”
Normally I’d respect someone who was just trying to be comforting, but that was a bald-faced lie.
One of the men chained up across from me snorted in disgust. “Delusional,” he said and spat, adding to the slimy water lapping at our toes.
We could all hear the Raiders up on deck losing battle with the violent weather and churning seas, panic thick in their voices as they yelled “Secure the lashings” and “Man overboard.”
As water inched past our ankles and up our calves, Zoleya’s gaze met mine. The light from the quivering lanterns danced in her irises. She was so pale. The sky-blue sundress she favored torn and splattered with filth. Her long white hair hung loose down to her hips, clinging to her petite frame—I hadn’t had a chance to braid it for the day before we’d been captured.
“Calla is correct,” she said, agreeing simply to provide an extra ray of hope. But Zo was bad at lying. Her lip always quivered. “Things will be just fine. Our journey will come to an end soon,” she added.
Well, that was at least true. Soon we’d all be dead.
“If you mean that we’re going to drown, then so be it,” a giant of a man with sores all over his face practically growled at her. “I’d rather die at sea than on Cal de Mac. Drowning would be better than what the Raiders will put us through if we make it to their homeland.”
He was right. The women would be sold as slaves, and the men and I, with our wrists chained over our heads and ankles shackled together, would be forced to fight in the arenas until our last breath. Being captured by these thieves of the land and pirates of the sea was a certain death sentence, and I saw no way out.
The wind howled like a million wounded Black-Blooded, shrill and curling up tight to my eardrums. As the ship seemed to break apart, I thought of Mom, of Delia, and of Father, their graves dug deep in the toxic Aldiran dirt. Then I prayed to a god who never had a moment to spare for me, begging her to magically transport me back to the cabin with the little woodstove and bury my body next to theirs.
Those who were not chained up in the cage toppled into each other as the ship crested a wave before dipping sharply downward and then leveling out. Lightning crackled through the sky. Someone let out a heart-wrenching wail… I couldn’t just hang here like a carcass waiting to be gutted, I had to try to do something. Anything.
Tugging on my restraints caused the shackles to dig deep into my wrists. A sickly warmth trickled down my arms. I nearly passed out from the pain, but I kept tugging; at least I would die with honor trying to save Zoleya.
“They can’t be barbaric enough to leave us down here to drown,” said a woman with a small child clinging to her legs.
A man across from me with black greasy curls let out a pained laugh. “Oh, but they are.” His voice was raw with hatred and his face was bruised, one eye nearly swollen shut. “Raiders are no better than the maggots swimming in your dinner.”
Crates full of stolen food, weapons, silks, and spices slammed into each other, releasing a plume of crushed cloves into the dank air. Someone up on deck shrieked and the wind shrieked back. I wondered if we had minutes. Seconds even. If I had to rip my hands off I would.
“Eva. Stop that, please,” Zoleya pleaded.
If I could only break some bones then maybe—
“Aye, stop for heaven’s sake!” said a massive man directly across from me with hair as red as the blood leaking from his broken nose. His skin was black with filth. His clothes were rags. “It’s bad enough we be trapped in here together. Watching ye torture yourself is making it worse. Besides, even if ye git free, there ain’t nothing a wee missy such as yourself can do. You be just a girl.”
My pulse throbbed at my temples; how many times had I heard that before? “Don’t you think there’s a reason I’m chained up like the rest of you?”
The redhead had some sort of answer perched on the tip of his tongue, but the sea spoke first. With another shriek, it dragged its salty claws along the sides of the ship, grabbed hold, and wrenched it to the left. A barrel tipped over, mixing brine and writhing squid into the rising water. More clearly than ever, we could hear the frantic voices of the crew dancing with death above while we waited for it below.
.
.
I am Canadian, born and raised in Alberta on a lovely acreage just
outside of Edmonton to musical parents. I began my arts career as a
musician, leaving home at the age of fifteen to play in a rock band,
then went on to become a singer/songwriter. I wrote songs and told
stories with melodies, lucky enough to tour Canada and record four
studio albums, as well as work as a studio musician. I spent years
singing my heart out. However, when I discovered the limitless
creativity of novel writing, I shifted my focus to a literary career.
My extraordinary experiences as a musician continue to fuel my
writing. I am deeply inspired by art and profoundly humbled by the
creativity of others. Creating is a fundamental part of my life, and
expressing myself through storytelling is incredibly important to me.
I strive to transport readers to different places or provide them
with a companion for three hundred pages, impacting them as my
favorite writers and artists have impacted me.
.
I like to write
about deeply flawed characters with relatable struggles and how they
react in extraordinary circumstances. The Rocky Mountains and the
wonders of nature greatly inspire me, and I love to explore the
juxtaposition of these settings with urban landscapes. My novels are
characterized by action, adventure, lots of romance, and unexpected
twists. I like to put my characters in unique settings and fully
explore their motivations while drawing heavily on my personal
experiences.
.
I am honored to be
represented by Elizabeth Winick Rubinstein of McIntosh and Otis, one
of the USA’s longest-running literary agencies, representing
remarkable authors such as the late John Steinbeck and Harper Lee. As
a ‘hybrid’ author, Elizabeth represents my adult works, while I
represent my young adult works. I am determined not to limit myself
to one specific genre and hope to follow in the footsteps of authors
who have achieved success this way, as I value the artistic freedom
it affords.
.
At present, I have
four published novels; Serenade, Nocturne and Rhapsody, all which
have achieved bestseller status in digital sales. My newest novel,
Atomica: Between Sea and Sky, was just released on August 27, 2024,
and is the first book in a new young adult fantasy series.
