ASMSG Scifi Fantasy Paranormal Ezine August 2014

S F P I n d i e I s s u e 3
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Cover
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SFP Indie Emagazine vol 3

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SFP Emagazine vol 1 Issue 3 Copyright August 2014
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Available on Amazon
http://smarturl.it/Rogue
Genesis
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CONTENTS

ARTICLES PG. 6
Light Behaving Badly 6
Whats a Story Molecule 8
Guardians of the Galaxy: Science Fiction or
Fantasy 11
Lucy: Asking the Wrong Question 13
Time Flow in Speculative Fiction 15
In the Spotlight: Tammy Salyer 17
Why All Writers Should Do Book Review 20
FICTION PG 22
Hers to Claim Excerpt by Patricia A. Knight 23
Moth Excerpt by Sean P. Poindexter 27
The Policeman Short Story by Drew Avera 29
Unexpectedly Mated Excerpt by Milly Taiden 33
REVIEWS PG 35
The Cat Wore Electric Goggles by Ian Hutson 36
Beyond the Black Sea by M Joseph Murphy 36
Snow Blood by Carol McKibben 37
Sight: Dream Chronicles Book Two by David
Bruns 37
Tin Men by Amalie Jahn 38
SCIENCE BEHIND
SCIENCE FICTION

LIGHT BEHAVING
BADLY PG. 6

TIME IN SPEC.
FICTION PG. 15

SPOTLIGHT ON
TAMMY SALYER,
AUTHOR OF
THE SPECTRAS ARISE
TRILOGY PG 17
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Marcha Fox
Originally Posted Here: Light Behaving Badly

Last time covered how sometimes light
behaves like a particle and others like a
wave along with how the double-slit
experiment was used to demonstrate these
properties. For example, if a steady light
comprised of numerous individual photons
hit a plate with one tiny slit to allow them
through, rather than getting a line that
matched the slit on the opposing wall it
would be spread out in a pattern that was
concentrated toward the center and fuzzy
around the edges. (See picture to right.)

When they used a plate that had two slits a
single photon would leave a dot, as
expected, but by continuing to release them
one at a time they would eventually form an
interference pattern, the same as what
resulted from a steady light source. It was as
if each photon had a mind of its own yet
collectively they would arrange themselves
in a certain pattern.
While exactly where each photon would
arrive couldnt be predicted, the pattern
itself could be, based on the wavelength of
the light. Thus there was a certain
probability that a photon would arrive in a
certain place, some more than others, but
which exact one would go where was
unknown.

It was apparent they couldnt predict
exactly where a single photon would land
but if it was a discrete particle of light then
it followed that it would go through one slit
or the other. (Remember that the
interference pattern resulted because there
were two slits so the waves could overlap.)
Thus, scientists, the first of whom was
Thomas Young (1773-1829), decided to
find out which slit of the two choices each
photon went through. To do so they
polarized the light going through each slit in
a different way with the detector on the
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other side capable of telling the differentce.
The photon could still theoretically
choose which slit (or both) it would go
through, but they would be able to tell
which one by its polarization when it
arrived on the detector.

Sneaky. But outsmarting Mother Nature is
not an easy task.

Much to their surprise, when they sent one
photon at a time toward the slits where it
was polarized the interference pattern did
not emerge!

Whoa!

Instead, they got random spots of light
which indicated individual particles.
Polarizing the light did not destroy its
ability to build interference patterns so this
didnt make sense. The results implied that
when they set things up so that theyd know
whether the photon went through one slit
or the other that the individual photons lost
their right to choose and behaved like a
particle. In other words, the probability
wave function had collapsed when the final
result would be determined.

In other words, the photon can change
from a wave to a particle when someone is
trying to figure out exactly what its going
to do. When someone is watching, it
behaves like a particle that not only goes
through one opening or the other but loses
its wave properties as well.

Say what?

Back then the expression WTF? didnt exist
yet, but something along those lines was
definitely what was going through
numerous scientific minds. By all
appearances, if someone was watching, i.e.
measuring the outcome, then the
probability wave collapsed and the photons
acted like particles.

Thinking perhaps this was because they
were polarizing the photons before they
went through one slit or the other, even
though they knew that didnt stop the light
from forming an interference pattern, they
rigged things up to determine which slit it
had gone through afterwards. Much to their
surprise they got the same result as before,
a rain of itinerant particles, as if each
photon had either known in advance or
perhaps even went back in time, deciding
how to behave.

This introduced the concept of an observer
affecting the outcome. Suddenly
consciousness was part of the mix, or at
least seemed to be since there was no other
explanation. Of course, physicists who deal
exclusively with the physical world were
less than enchanted by all this woo-woo
stuff. Thus began the philosophical notion
of whether or not a tree that fell in the
forest made a sound if no one was there to
hear it. May I remind you that these are
very intelligent people were dealing with
here and while some of them may not be
wrapped to tight as they walk the genius-
insanity interface; nonetheless, they are a
whole lot smarter than the rest of us.
Einstein called this spooky action at a
distance and didnt believe it, even though
he was the one who theorized that energy
and matter were essentially the same as
expressed by his famous equation E=mc2.
To this day people are still arguing about
this aspect of quantum theory with
different conclusions. Is it possible that an
observer or some form of consciousness
can influence physical matter? Do we,
indeed, create our own reality?
What do you think?

Photos from Wikicommons and Pixabay
About the Author:

Marcha Fox is a prolific writer who has addressed a wide variety of subjects but her favorite
is science fiction. It began as a love of astronomy which eventually led to a bachelor of
science degree in physics from Utah State University followed by a 21 year career at NASA's
Johnson Space Center in Houston, Texas where she held a variety of positions including
technical writer, engineer and eventually manager. Her NASA experiences included trips to
Cape Canaveral in Florida, visiting other NASA centers in Mississippi, Alabama and
Maryland as well as trips to the European Space Agency in The Netherlands but the most
memorable was the sad task of helping to recover space shuttle debris in East Texas
following the tragic Columbia accident in 2003.

Her Star Trails Tetralogy Series incorporates her knowledge of physics and space travel
within a family saga set on a primitive planet where survival is an ongoing struggle which is
further complicated by political intrigue.

Marcha Fox on Amazon Marcha Fox on Twitter
Marcha Fox on Facebook Marcha Foxs Official Website
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Click Here for a larger version of the picture above.

Kayelle Allen
Originally Posted Here: What's A Story Molecule?

Like me, my friend Melissa Snark likes the
TV Tropes website. What are tropes?
Theyre devices and conventions that a
writer can reasonably rely on as being
present in the audience members minds
and expectations. On the whole, tropes are
not clichs. The word clichd means
stereotyped and trite. In other words,
dull and uninteresting. The TV Tropes site
isnt about that. Its about the creative use
of these mega-themes.

The Periodic Table of Storytelling is a site
that makes good use of these themes. By
putting together all the basic tropes and
assigning them a range of colors and
letters, its possible to create a story
molecule using the themes of the story.

TRAILING KAIWULF:
STORY MOLECULE

Melissa had an idea. Why not take the TV
Tropes website and figure out how to apply
its amazing concepts to her own story? She
hit upon an even better idea. Why not
invite other authors to do the same thing?
Adding icing to the cake, she contacted the
TV Tropes site and asked if theyd like to

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Excerpt hwww.kayelleallen.com/exc-
kai.html
Amazon is.gd/SciFiAdventure_Kaiwulf

This is a Trace, Rescue, and
Identification League story.

Download the official TRAIL Facebook
cover and other goodies:
http://is.gd/kaiwulf_excerpt

Learn more about the Periodic Table of
Storytelling here:
http://designthroughstorytelling.net/peri
odic/

take a look. They did, she did, and a group
of us got together to share the idea of
creating a story molecule.

Mine is the last one in the series, so Im
doing my best to make it awesome. I hope
youll check it out. The book Im featuring is
Trailing Kaiwulf. Why not head over there
and take a look? Its amazing what she put
together.

Click here: http://is.gd/kaiwulf_molecule

Find an invisible man in another dimension?

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Travel to a godforsaken planet on the
outskirts of space. Check. Hold intrusive
military types at bay. Check. Find an
invisible man in a different dimension.
Check. Finish out the vacation TRAIL
yanked you back from to do it? Easier said
than done.

TRAILING KAIWULF

Yanked back from their first vacation in
ages, Jee and Dane get handed a top priority
mission. The pay is better than any theyve
earned before as agents for the Trace,
Rescue, and Identification League. With this
much money,
they might not need jobs. Theyre the best
there is, and the item, person, or secret hasnt
been invented that these two cant recover.
Until now.

Locating this quarry might be a bit past even
their considerable skills. After all, how do you
find an invisible man in another dimension?
And who, exactly, is footing a bill this steep?
Certainly not the archaeologist in charge. The
military wants to get involved, but they have no
monetary stake either. So who or what is
behind the request to trail Kaiwulf?

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M Joseph Murphy
Originally Posted Here: Guardians of the Galaxy: Science Fiction or Fantasy?

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
SCIENCE FICTION &
FANTASY
For some, this is a touchy subject. Some get
downright fanatical about the difference. For
example, Star Wars, they say, is pure fantasy
while Star Trek is pure science fiction. The
distinction between the two depends on
whom you ask. Heres one definition:

While science fiction draws on and
extrapolates from what we know about reality
and science, fantasy invents what does not
(and likely could not) exist in our reality.
Source: Whats the difference between
science fiction and fantasy?

In science fiction, the science or technology
needs to be integral to the plot of the story.
As Asimov If you can take the Science out
of the Fiction and still have a viable story in
another genre, you did it WRONG.

WHY THE DISTINCTION?
If were honest, aside from submission
editors, the only people who care about the
distinction between science fiction and
fantasy are science fiction fanboys. So why
do they care? Superiority. They want you to
believe that science fiction is inherently
better than fantasy. Any fantasy author or
reader knows this is ridiculous. In fact,
fantasy, as a genre, may be the older genre
of storytelling. (source: The Difference
Between Fantasy & Science Fiction)

Although many become fanatical discussing
the difference, I tend to agree with Guy
Gavriel Kay (see side bar).

SCIENCE FICTION VS.
FANTASY QUIZ
1. Is it Possible and Plausible?

Well, its as plausible as anything in Star
Trek or Asimovs Foundation series.There is
no magic in Guardians of the Galaxy.
Starlord has various technical toys but is
essentially Indiana Jones with better tools.
Rocket is the result of genetic manipulation
and cybernetics.

I doubt theres anything heroic in the
category fetish. We need them, as consumers
(and by extension, publishers and agents and
authors need them as suppliers) and Ive
never agreed with those who suggest that a
straight alphabetical shelving system for all
fiction in bookstores in the way to go. Having
said that, it seems only common sense to note
that many books will blur borders, many
authors will shift categories, sometimes with
reckless abandon (to the chagrin of marketing
departments everywhere), and many readers
will endlessly debate definitions of categories.
- Guy Gavriel Kay
(Guy Gavriel Kay Official Website )

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The only elements that appears mystical are the Infinity Stones. In
the movie they are forged by the interaction of multiple universe.
So, in a sense, their origin is tied to our current understand on
quantum physics. Sorta.

For more on the Infinity Stones click here: Infinity Gems by Comic
Vine

2. Is the Science/Technology Integral to the Plot?
Absolutely. The central MacGuffin is a piece of technology. Every
character in attempting to gain control of the Infinity Stone uses
space-aged equipment to retrieve it. It could be said that one of the
main characters is Starlords mix tape, an old form of technology
that keeps us tied to Earth even in the deepest part of space.

3. Does it Extrapolate from Known Science?
Every device we see is an extension of a currently existing one. It
gives the movie a very grounded feel. Again, the only item that
appears unimaginable is the Infinity Stoneand it is supposed to
defy explanation.

One of my favorite parts was something subtle many may have
missed. Throughout the entire movie, we are SHOWN that Starlord
wears a small black device behind his right ear but it is never
discussed in conversation. This is a nod to a universal translator that
allows various species to communicate with each other. But no one
talks about it because it is a common, everyday part of the culture.
If you think about it, when was the last time you had a conversation
with your friends about the technology and purpose behind a
phone. Everyone knows what it is so no one talks about it.
Similarly, in Game of Thrones, no one talks about the lack of moon
in the sky because no one has ever considered there should be a
moon in the sky.
The ear piece is an example of how worldbuilding done properly. It
is there for the people that are looking for it but doesnt get in the
way of the story. Over-explanation can ruin a story. Need I mention
midichlorians?

The Real Problem with Midichlorians

CONCLUSION
Based on these guidelines, Guardians of the Galaxy is best
described as science fiction. However, you classify it, it is one of the
best movies Ive seen in years. I cant recommend this movie
enough. If you havent seen it yet, get off your computer, put away
your phone, and go see it. You can thank me later.

LINKS TO GREAT ARTICLES ON THE
DIFFERENCES BETWEEN SCIENCE
FICTION AND FANTASY

Science Fiction & Fantasy: A Genre With Many Faces

The Difference Between Fantasy and Science Fiction

The Blurred Lines Between Science Fiction and Fantasy

Definitions of What Science Fiction Is and Is Not

History of Science Fiction and Fantasy

Guardians of the Galaxy Official Website

IT SHOWS THE SCIENCE BUT
DOESNT EXPLAIN IT

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I saw the much-anticipated Lucy last weekend
and, before going into my review, Id like to make
a few preliminary comments. First, I am a huge
fan of Luc Besson. Ever since La Femme Nikita,
I was convinced this guy could do no wrong.
Second, I am in love with Scarlett Johansson
dont tell my wife. Third, Im very aware that no
matter what I say here, this movie will make a ton
of money. So that said, whats my take?

I was disappointed.
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Stephen Ramirez
Originally Posted Here:Lucy - Asking the Wrong
Questions

SPOILER ALERT!

THIS WAS TWO MOVIES
Apparently, Lucy couldnt decide what it
wanted to be. On the one hand, it is a
smart, funny, bloody sci-fi thriller that
doesnt skimp on the action. On the other,
its an vfx-laden treatise on the history of
man and his ability to utilize the untapped
potential of his brain. Judging by the
official trailer, I was promised the former.
And I was getting it in all its Luc Besson
glory until Lucy finally meets Morgan
Freemans Professor Norman in Paris.

There was an upside to the mindy, spacey
stuff that takes us from mans beginnings
with the original Lucy to the wonders of
the universe. I enjoyed the visual effects
especially when Lucy stops Time with a
wave of her hand. Sure, thats cool. And
the movie came in at ninety minutes,
which meant we werent saddled with a
slow-moving second act. But when the
screenwriter stops caring that Lucy is on
the lam and an evil Korean guy is after
her, and opts instead to focus on her
morphing into a frickin computer made
of giant Nutella-like tendrils, thats when
you lose me.

EVERY HERO NEEDS AN ARC
This is a basic tenet of screenwriting. As
weve learned over the years, its the
Heros Journey, people. The heroor the
protagonistreluctantly sets off on a
journey where a bunch of stuff happens.
Whether its good or bad stuff doesnt
really matter. In the end its life changing.
And theres always a final battle, which the
hero must win. Then he returns home
changed and tells the others what he
learned. The model may be old, going all
the way back to Gilgamesh, but it works
.
So what happened to Lucy? Well, she
didnt come back! Instead of an arc, we
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got a trajectory. She never gets to have the
final battle with Mr. Jangthats left to
the battle-weary French cop Pierre Del
Rio. Once Lucys brain reaches a hundred
percent utilization, she trips off
somewhere beyond Time and Space,
probably meeting up with an alternate
universe version of herself, which is the
OS from Her. Seriously? What am I
supposed to do with pure energy? I
invested a lot of my emotions in this
woman, and now she just disappears? And
just like Professor Norman, I am left with
nothing but a thumb drive with a bunch of
ones and zeroes on it. Great. I guess I
should start that backup now. Oh wait, she
melted all the computers.

HOW MIGHT THIS HAVE
WORKED?
The movie already has the elements of a
great sci-fi action thrillerbad guys,
experimental drugs, exotic locations and a
woman who, though she graduated Phi
Beta Kappa, starts out dumb as spit when
it comes to choosing men. Speaking of
bad guys, the only thing better than a
Korean bad guy is pairing him with an
English bad guy. Bravo, Luc!

As I said before, I was good with
everything until the fateful meeting with
Professor Norman. Previously, she had
only spoken to him by phone or video
screen. He was becoming her Alfred. But
once she meets with the good professor
and other scientists, were transported to
the Science Channel as Lucys brain
utilization increases and everyone
discusses the nature of Time and Space. At
this point, I wouldnt have been surprised
if everyone adjourned to a nice restaurant
and spent the next five hours discussing
Sartre or the symbolism behind clowns in
horror movies.

Heres my idea for a third act. When Mr.
Jang and his army arrive at the university
to kill Lucy, she is already starting to lose
her powers because the drug is wearing
off. That, coupled with a blinding
headache and other side effects from the
drug, its a question of whether she can
still take out the bad guys before they can
kill her. A massive final battle ensues
where everythingthe university,
everythingis destroyed as Lucy battles
with Mr. Jang and his men while becoming
weaker and weaker.

At a critical moment, Mr. Jang shoots
Lucy. Weak and bloody she still manages
to send him to hell. Then she collapses as
the professor makes his way to her. As the
professor examines her, he realizes that
she is once again human. How? Well, her
irises appear normal. Working fast, he and
Del Rio get her to the hospital, where
surgeons operate on her and she recovers.
Epilogue. Lucy is standing outside the
airport with Del Rio. Shes going home to
see her parents. He says, I guess well
never know what would have happened
had you hit a hundred percent. Just then,
a toddler drifts into the path of an
oncoming taxi, his mother running after
him and screaming in French. Suddenly,
the taxi stops completely, as if Time itself
had stopped. The crying mother retrieves
her child as Del Rio stares at Lucy in
amazement. What? she says, smiling.
Then she kisses the cop on the cheek and
walks into the terminal. Setup for a sequel?
You bet.

THE WRONG QUESTION
Every great movie asks a question at the
beginning that must be answered at the
end. In Lucy, the question appears to be
what would happen if we could access
our whole brain instead of just ten
percent? To me, thats the wrong
question. It has nothing to do with a
heros life. What happened to Lucy could
have happened to anyonethe conniving
boyfriend, the French cop or Professor
Norman.

I think a better question is, Will Lucy
become the person she is meant to be?
With my ending, I think the movie would
have answered that. It still would have
been a kick-ass story and we would have
left the theatre satisfied that Lucy
completed the heros journey.

15 | P a g e

Ceri London
Originally Posted Here: Time Flow Premise for Rogue Genesis

Ive pressed the publish button on
Rogue Genesis and am contemplating
the science points raised in some of my
advance reviews. The clues of
speculative mad science are in the book
blurb.

One man. Two worlds separated by a
universe. Space-time warped by black
holes. In the passing of seconds on
Earth, Major Niall Kearey has
witnessed the birth and death of
generations on Astereal. Astereal is in
decline, the dueling forces of black
holes threaten extinction. Time is
running out as Astereal races towards
annihilation and temporal alignment
with Earth.

It is speculative fiction. It is a mad plot,
and it gets crazier, and thats why it was
so much fun to write and, I hope, fun
to read for those willing to suspend
beliefa requirement for most science
fiction, science fantasy and fantasy.

However, I am happy to explain my
initial thinking on the premise. I have
put clues to most of this in the story.

1) DIFFERENT TIMEFLOW
Its theoretically possible for different
timeflows to exist throughout the
universe. But I wanted a solar
system/galaxy where time starts flowing
faster relative to the rest of the universe
eons ago. NOT SLOWER!

Not as much plot fun in that. What
supports a faster time flow in addition
to 1 above?

2) MAKE STUFF UP
Is it a plot device still to be revealed in
the series? Maybe. Maybe not.

3) CHANGING POSITION
Its changing position in the universe
relative to everything else.

4) A CLUSTER OF BLACK
HOLES
Its possible a cluster of black holes is
creating a situation where combined
gravitational forces keep an otherwise
doomed solar system in balance and
weird effects on time. Dont believe the
first is possible? Check out
http://www.newscientist.com/article/d
n21081-astrophile-the-sticky-star-
cluster-thats-mostly-black-hole.html
Okay, what about weird effects on
time? Well, why not, in my fictional
world?

5) LOWER MASS THAN EARTH
Time could flow faster on Astereal
simply because it has a lower mass than
Earth, plus its distance from the central
mass of the universe. I wasnt
convinced by that, so didnt really use it.
16 | P a g e
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I also needed time to start slowing
down on Astereal relative to Earth.
Alignment. Thats easier. If Astereal
exists in a faster timeflow to start with,
then being on the edge of the universe
means an accelerating velocity, and
faster velocity slows time. The cluster of
black holes gaining mass over time will
also slow time down, and, if this occurs
in a way that alters the combined
gravitational balances, it could also start
to undo whatever side-effect increased
the rate of time in the first place.

Or perhaps my plot device in 2) is
running down.

One black hole increasing mass quicker
than the others provides both a reason
for time slowing and an extinction
event. One of my betas pointed out,
Astereals disintegration could take a
very long time, maybe billions of years.
Fortunately, it doesnt take long at all
for that solar system to stop supporting
life. That will happen well before the
solar system breaks apart and very
quickly.

I threw in a shifting universe for good
measure. Alignment sounds good
when I have wormholes linking two
planets together. I need that link to get
stronger, so aligning galaxies and
timeflows makes for a nice device and
ties in with prophecies and provides a
potential source of dark energy.

That basically is my premise for
timeflows. There is more that I wont
discuss for fear of spoiling the story,
but yes, the speculative science and the
case for abusing the General Theory of
Relativity increases. I used some artistic
license. I couldnt find out what
happens when wormholes link different
time flows across the universe, so I
made it up.

Since writing this I came across the following article! http://www.livescience.com/39159-time-travel-with-wormhole.html
Its theoretically possible for
different timeflows to exist
throughout the universe
Ceri London
17 | P a g e

18 | P a g e
Maer Wilson
Originally Posted Here: In the Spotlight: Tammy Salyer

Today we welcome Tammy Salyer to
the blog along with her Sci Fi Thriller,
Spectras Arise. The third book of this
trilogy is the recently released Contract
of War. Lets find out more about
Tammy and her newest book.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tammy writes a bit, reads a bit, and
frequently races cars across
intersections from the saddle of her
bike. Consequently, you could probably
crack walnuts shells on her thighs, but
she hopes no one ever tries, because
awkward. Find her on
her blog or Twitter, or sign up for
her newsletter to be the first to know
of contests, new releases, and special
events you might enjoy. Shes currently
working on a prequel to the trilogy and
another project that has something to
do with space Vikings. She hopes you
enjoy reading her works and welcomes
your reviews.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Contract of War begins in the aftermath
of the system-wide war between the
Admin and Corp Loyalists and the non-
citizen population of the Algols, where
everything once resembling order has
been leveled. Scattered enclaves of
survivors dot the worlds, living,
however they can, in snarled
lawlessness. Aly and her crew have
carved out a niche of relative peace,
doing their best to go on with their lives
through salvaging, scavenging, and
stealing. But with no force left to keep
the lid on the pot, the pressures of
chaos and discord soon cause conflicts
to boil over. As enemies close in from
all directions, even, sometimes, from
within, the crew once again must
fightnot just for survival, not just for
their way of life, but this time for a
future that can finally lay to rest the
systems bloody and savage past.

ABOUT THE SERIES
Contract of Defiance, Contract of
Betrayal, and Contract of War follow
heroine Aly Erikson and her crew of
anti-Admin smugglers through an ever-
escalating glut of life-and-death
adventures and the trials of a living on
the side of liberty and freedom
whether they agree with the law or
notin the far future of the Algol star
system. As former Corps members,
most are no strangers to fighting and
dissent, but more than anything, they
want to spend their lives flying under
the radar without control or
interference from the systems central
government, The Political and Capital
Administration of the Advanced
Worlds. But the Admins greed-
drenched dualism of power and
corruption has other plans, and
throughout the series, Aly and her crew
are reminded of one lesson time and
again: when all other options run out,
never let go of your gun.

NOW LETS SHINE THE
SPOTLIGHT ON TAMMY

Maer: Thanks for joining us to tell us
about your new book, Tammy.
Tammy: Hi Maer. Thanks so much
for featuring me on your site and giving
me a forum to do what authors love to
dotalk about themselves! Er, I mean,
talk about writing, of course.
Maer: Im very happy to have you here
,Tammy! Lets jump right in. What is
the funniest or oddest thing that has
happened to you as an author?
Tammy: Im not sure if this qualifies
as funny or odd, but one of
the most miraculous things
that has happened to me as
an author was meeting my
biggest fan, and then
marrying him. I know, theres
probably some kind of rule in
the International Author
Guidelines and Standards
manual about not doing this,
but sometimes you just have
to be a rule-breaker. A few
months before I published
my first full-length novel,
Contract of Defiance, I met
my muse and now husband
through a music website. We
became great friends and running
partners and spoke on a near daily basis.
He read my book as soon as it came
out, then gushed and gushed about how
much he enjoyed it. Flattery is
apparently my kryptonite, and the rest,
as they say, is history.
Maer: That is a great story! Do you use
beta readers, and, if so, what qualities
do you look for in a beta?
Tammy: Oh yes, I rely heavily on my
beta readers to keep me in check. I have
several friends who read for me, and
they all fit into different categories.
Some are general readers who simply
enjoy science fiction, my primary genre;
some are professional reviewers who
bring a wider understanding of the
genre and the market to their critique;
19 | P a g e
and lastly, several are author friends
who base their feedback more on the
crafting and plotting of my books. The
combination of all these different
perspectives really gives me a wide
range of feedback, which I can
synthesize to produce stories that (I
hope) are strong in all aspects.
Maer: What is a one-line synopsis for
your book? And is this a stand-alone or
part of a series?
Tammy: One-liner: In the aftermath
of a system-wide civil war, Corps-
deserter and ex-arms smuggler Aly
Erikson and her crew face threats of
chaos and disorder at every step as they
attempt to rebuild a life in the midst of
the devastation.
Contract of War is the final book in the
Spectras Arise Trilogy. Contract of
Defiance is the first book, and Contract
of Betrayal is the second. The first is
easily a stand-alone, but the trilogy is
best read in order.
Maer: Which character, other than Aly,
is one of your favorites to write and
why?
Tammy: In all three novels, my
favorites beside the protagonist, Aly,
have been the villains. Writing bad guys
is giving yourself permission, in a way,
to be bad yourself. Its always given me
a vicarious thrill.
Maer: If you had to pick a color to
describe Aly what would that be and
why?
Tammy: Red, definitelyshes very
volatile.
Maer: You gotta love a volatile
heroine! So, who are your favorite
authors to read?
Tammy: This is such a wonderful
question! But it always makes me pine
for some free time to go pick up one of
their books. The shortlist is: Stephen
King, Neil Gaiman, Neal Stephenson,
and lately, Ceri London. Her Rogue
Genesis novel is absolutely captivating.
A visionary work of science fiction.
Maer: Some of my own faves there.
And I have Ceris novel on my TBR list.
Can you share a bit about the project
youre working on now?
Tammy: After I finished writing my
trilogy, I had every intention of shifting
to a new series that can only be
described with these words at the
moment: Vikings and galactic shifts.
But I guess my subconscious wasnt
ready to let go of the Spectras universe
just yet, and Im currently writing a
series prequel that will either be a
novella or a collection of novellas
featuring many of the different
characters involved throughout the
series.
Maer: I love prequels! What do you do
when youre not writing?
Tammy: I am endlessly passionate
about the written word and make a
living as a freelance editor (heres
my editing site). When Im not writing
or taking time off to pursue my hobbies
of running and cycling, Im eyeball deep
in others books. Its a rough life, but
you know, someones gotta do it
Maer: LOL. What influenced you to
write in your genre? Do you write in
others?
Tammy: There are so many things
that inspired this series and in this
genre, but Ill try to be brief-ish. First is
that I grew up loving science fiction
movies with strong female protagonists
(Aliens being my all-time favorite
movie), so there was never a question as
to who my protagonist would be.
Second is the fact that I am ex-army
and wanted to create a world and story
that explored to some degree the
military mindset and effects of a
military lifebut in a more Heinleinien
setting. Space marines, ooorah! Not to
mention that I needed a world where it
was not only acceptable to use a lot of
foul language, but almost compulsory.
In that respect, my characters potty-
mouths are an extension of my own, at
times. And finally, I love a story
where you cant help but root for the
underdog, and the crew of the Sphynx,
which is a transport ship that features
heavily in the first two books of the
series, is definitely that. I also dabble in
other genres, but not to the same
degree as SF.
Maer: What music, if any, do you like
to listen to while writing?
Tammy: Oh yes! I love listening to
epic movie soundtracks when Im
writing or editing, but often Ill put on
SimplyNoise.com to the sound of rain,
too.
Maer: Ill have to look into that
website. We dont get much rain in the
desert and I like the sound too. Thanks
again for joining us today, Tammy. Do
you have anything youd like to add?
Tammy: I always welcome comments
or feedback from readers and fans and
would love to have more beta readers
for my next novel. Anyone who
subscribes to my newsletter will receive
a free copy of Contract of Defiance, so
I encourage everyone who loves
explosions and action to sign up here.
Thanks again, Maer!
Maer: It was definitely my pleasure.
Thanks for a great interview. Ive added
your books to my TBR list.

Grab all three novels in the trilogy while
theyre on sale for 99 cents each through
mid-August at these retailers:

Amazon Apple
Barnes & Noble Kobo
Libiro PayHip

You can find Tammy at these links:
Tammys Blog
Tammy on Twitter
20 | P a g e

W
WWh
hhy
yy A
AAl
lll
ll
W
WWr
rri
iit
tte
eer
rrs
ss
S
SSh
hho
oou
uul
lld
dd
D
DDo
oo B
BBo
ooo
ook
kk
R
RRe
eev
vvi
iie
eew
wws
ss
David Bruns
Originally Posted Here: Why All
Writers Should Do Book Reviews

I never gave much thought to book
reviews until I became a writer.
Recently, a chance encounter on
Goodreads made me reflect on the
topic more deeply.

I clicked through to the blog
Supposedly Fun for the love of a
good book and ran across a post
entitled On Ethics and Book
Reviewing (No Sock Puppets!) The
author focused on what Ill call soft
sock puppetry, where he suggests
that bloggers who have a
relationship with a publishing
company will be more likely to write
positive reviews.

Hed surveyed the Amazon
discussions boards and came to the
conclusion that bloggers would
rather not post a review than post a
bad one. I am one of those people.
That realization made me think
about book reviews and why I do
them at all.

ITS KARMA, BABY
Reviews on Amazon are the currency of
social proof for potential book buyers.
It tells your customers that others have
taken the plunge with this piece of work
and the waters fine.
As a writer, I ask for reviews all the
time.
21 | P a g e
In the back of all my books, I ask my
readers to visit Amazon and leave a
review. If someone emails me with
something nice to say about one of my
stories, I ask them to leave a review.
Ive contacted a slew of book bloggers
with queries and gotten into their
review queues. But heres the thing: if
Im going to ask for something from
the readers/reviewers out there, I feel
like its my obligation to give something
back to that same community.

I didnt always have this attitude. Before
I became a professional writer, I had a
Goodreads account and did the odd
review as a way to (1) keep track of
what I had read and (2) show how
smart I was as a discerning reader. It
wasnt until I started asking for reviews
that I realized the great imbalance that
exists between books and reviewers.

An imbalance that I can do something
about.

ITS NETWORKING FOR
WRITERS

Writing is a lonely business. The
amount of positive reinforcement that
comes your way before, during, and
after the birthing of your novel is pretty
scarce. And thats just the beginning of
your journey. Once that baby is released
into the world you need to market it,
and to market your book you need
reviews.

As Ive done with other writerly
problems, I pondered this question
while wearing my business hat. What do
business professionals do when theyre
stuck or need support? They reach out
to their network.
Try this experiment: buy an indie
authors book, read it and post an
honest review on your website. Then
email the author and tell them the good
news. I can almost guarantee you will
get a message back from the author.

A few things to keep in mind:
1. Aim for a newer author.
If you are the 1000th reviewer of
WOOL, does your review really
move the needle for anyone?
(Although, for the record, I did
review one of Hugh Howeys short
stories in an anthology and got a
personal thank you from him!)
2. This is not a quid pro quo
arrangement.
Do the review as an act of
generosity, without any expectation
of gain.
3. Only post a positive review if
you really liked the book.
Otherwise, youre no better than a
sock puppet.

IT MAKES ME A BETTER
WRITER
Youve heard the old saw: if you want
to be a better writer, be a better reader.
It reminds us to seek out new voices as
we sharpen our own craft. James Scott
Bell had a great post on The Kill Zone
blog last week in which he applied some
basketball wisdom from coach Bobby
Knight: Practice doesnt make perfect.
Perfect practice makes perfect.

Writing a book review requires you to
articulate why you enjoyed the book,
and in doing so you will add to your
understanding of the craft.

PLEASE DONT SEND ME YOUR
BOOK
After all this thoughtful commentary on
book reviews, you might be tempted to
send me your book.
Dont. I am not a book reviewer.
I read because I love to read and I want
to improve my craft as a writer. If a
book review shows up on my website,
its because I liked the book and I want
you to hear about it.
But lets get back to where this all
started. Yes, I am one of those people
who would rather not leave a review
than leave a bad one. Does that come
from some deep sense of altruism
toward my fellow writers?
No, the reason why I dont post
negative reviews is because if I dont
like a book, I dont finish it. Im not
about to write a review on a book I
didnt read.

David Bruns is a writer from Minnesota, and creator of the
sci-fi series The Dream Guild Chronicles. Check out
his website for updates, new releases and a free short story.
Connect on: Twitter Facebook Newsletter

22 | P a g e

23 | P a g e
Hers to Claim
Patri cia A. Knight

BLURB:
Scornfully rejected by her desert lover and uncertain
of her place in the world, Adonia travels an arduous road
fraught with peril to the fabled mountain-city of Nyth
Uchel. She wishes to heal their sick and dying, but in the
arms of Heltheir highborn princeAdonia discovers
where she longs to belong.

Noble born, a descendant of the greatest kings their planet
has known, Hel willingly bears the burden of his dying city
and its people on his massive shouldersalone. But
forced to watch helplessly as a dark evil attacks the very
soil under his feet, he crushes his pride to summon help.
He is staggered to discover the answer to saving his city
and perhaps all Verdantia might lie behind a heavy fall of
chocolate hair and shy brown eyes.

As their entire planet faces encroaching black death, Hel
and Adonia, two seemingly disparate individuals, forge a
partnership of love and sacrifice that alters their future
forever.
More? Here are the first two chapters:

CHAPTER ONE
The nails in the worn heels of Prince DeHelios boots
clicked against the stone as Hel climbed the stairs, and
then softened to a rhythmic thud as he strode the carpeted
hall to the small corner of the castle still maintained as a
residence. He looked neither left nor right and ignored the
signs of prosperity dimmedroom after room empty and
dark, rooms where laughter and love once abided. He
stared sightlessly past the shrouded portraits of his long-
dead ancestors, the first kings and queens of Verdantia,
now ghostly rectangles adorning a poorly lit hall. A
melancholy sorrow pierced his heart when he passed the
empty nurseryits fleeting pain as biting as the cold
outside, but he shrugged it off with a grim discipline.
Thank the Goddess, you are back. A stooped,
elderly man accosted Hel as he entered a cozy chamber
where a fire radiated warmth and candles lifted the gloom.
Heavy tapestry curtains covered the floor-to-ceiling
windows and prevented any draft. From the bookcases
lining the walls crammed full of leather-bound tomes, the
room had served as a library or office in an earlier time.
Now, the pale bodies on low pallets arranged about the
room testified to another usea sickroom.
Bernard, give me a moment. Hel shrugged his
steward off and nodded at an older woman attending one
of those ill. Sara, how is Rolly?

She shook her head. He wont last the night, my
lord.
Hel disguised his pain at the news. The man was a
friend. Ill come sit with him. Give me a moment. He
turned to Bernard. I got your message. I came directly.
Hel pulled one of the squat, upholstered stools close to the
fire and sat holding his hands out to the warmth. The
icicles in his heavy black beard dripped onto the floor as
they began to thaw. Bernard hovered over him radiating
anxiety.
We must have a skilled medicus and more brite-
weed. I am unlearned in the healing arts, my lordall of
us are. We do our best, but The elderly man closed his
eyes and seemed to shrink. We lost Edgar today
another good man who was hale and hearty two months
ago. The perimeter you set last month on the western
border has failed. I dont understand why. We could
always count on at least eight months, but we will have no
wheat fields come spring if the blight cannot be pushed
back.
As if the burden of feeding and housing his people
was not sufficient, an unfamiliar, insidious blight, a black
sickness, seemed to affect both the animate and inanimate
on his mountain. One by one, his people had succumbed
to a disturbing affliction that sucked their vigor, their
anima, until they surrendered any attempt to live and just
faded into death. The same contagion that afflicted his
people drained the life from his land. The blight attacked
24 | P a g e
the very soil under their feet, rendering it putrid, barren,
unable to sustain life.
Hel sighed and hunched closer to the fire. His
shoulders bowed as if every word from Bernards mouth
added yet another weighty burden to their width.
His stewards voice faltered but his recount of the
latest catastrophes continued. Julian Goodman asked for
the makings for brite-weed tea today. He said his wife was
sickening. I told him to come back later. I couldnt risk the
panic should he learn we had none.
At the old mans words, Hel straightened and raised
his eyes to Bernard. Tessa? Tessa is fading?
Bernard nodded.
Hels body tightened when he remembered the sweet,
erotic surrender of the woman. Ah, Tessa.
Together, they had performed the sexual rites to clean
Nyth Uchel of an ugly remnant of the Haarb wars, soul
wraithsthough Hel preferred the term leeches. Warm,
giving Tessahe could not let such a gentle soul die. His
thoughts went to that day in the windswept courtyard
when he had requested a partner for the rites and Tessa
had answered, over her husbands vocal protests.

Her gentle voice carried in the quiet of the courtyard.
Julian, please reconsider. Lady Athena is dead and our
lord has no one else. I have enough aristocratic blood to
be of use to him. It will save all of us. It is just the
temporary use of my body.
Her gentle eyes had shamed her husband and hed
turned away with a snarling, Do as you will.
Julian avoided Hel from that day forward. With
regret, Hel considered he had made a lifetime enemy of the
man; but Tessa, sweet, sweet Tessa had been a revelation,
such a contrast to his dead wife who was cold even in life.
Hel felt a presence at his back and the woman
tending the sick room quietly addressed him. My lord,
you best come now. I dont think he has long.
Hel rose and moved between the ill to a chair pulled
beside the pallet where Rolly lay covered with blankets.
Vivid, suppurating sores covered his scalp and face and his
flesh hung slackly as if melted onto his skull.
Rolly. Hel sat, then bent over his former
gamekeeper and spoke his name gently. Rolly, its
DeHelios. Im here with you.
The man moaned and moved slightly but otherwise
gave no sign he had heard. Anger born of impotence rose
in Hels gut. He wished there was something he could do
for the man. Of course, he wished many things and
thought again of Tessa and all those whose lives depended
on him.
Breath rattled in Rollys lungs, and then he fell silent.
His chest no longer rose and fell. Hel listened intently and
watched for any sign of life.
I think hes gone, sir, Sara said.
The effort not to scream or pound his fist through a
wall left him rigid. When he was certain he could control
himself, Hel stood and faced Bernard. My damnable
pride, my refusal to ask the Tetriarch for help has brought
us to this. We need the radiance of our sigil tower to blaze
forth once again and kill this dark contagion. For that, I
need a magistra. Tessa was an incomplete substitute for my
wife. A tender, willing heart cannot replace the genetics
and the schooling that make a magistra a true conduit for
power. I have wasted precious time that might have
brought an end to this nightmare.
My lord, the corruption beset us on multiple fronts.
You made the best decision at the time. You couldnt have
known the blight would spread with such speed and
devastation.
Bernards words didnt lift his sense of guilt. Tell the
people I have gone to the new capital, Sylvan Mintoth. I
will return with a magistra, a healer and more brite-weed. I
will beg for charity on my knees if I must.
~~~
After a long week of arduous, perilous travel, Hel
reached his destination. In a surge of force, he stiff-armed
the immense double doors to Queen Fleur Constantes
audience hall. Boom! The thick, metal-strapped doors flew
open and rebounded against the walls of chiseled stone.
The resonating crash silenced the hum of voices and
pulled all eyes to him. The only noise came from the
papers fluttering down from overbalanced stacks on a
trestle table. The table flanked a throne-like upholstered
chair on an elevated dais at the end of the hall. A group of
half a dozen or so men and women clustered in
conversation with a diminutive woman seated in the chair.
Their conversation ceased and their heads raised as if a
herd of chital at a waterhole alerting to a predator.
His keen senses absorbed the large chamber of
polished stone floors and rugged walls before he took a
second step into the audience chamber. Heavy beams of
entire trees supported and braced a roof rising at least
thirty feet. Clerestory windows ranging the length of each
long wall flooded the audience hall with natural light. As
befitted the first noble house of Verdantia, the crimson
DeHelios banner, his banner, with its rampant white
stallion surrounded by the rays of a sun, hung beside the
purple and gold crowns of the currently ruling House
Constante. Below them hung the banners of the thirty
lesser noble Houses of Verdantia.
He shed his heavy coat and hat of icebear pelt as his
aggressive, confident strides took him down the center of
the great hall. The mass of previous supplicants fell away
in silent recognition of a superior force to allow him
unfettered passage. I am Prince DeHelios of the standard
that hangs by privilege of rank beside your own. House
Constante will provide me a skilled healer, a magistra level
five or higher, and ten pecks of brite-weed. Time is of the
essence. My people are dying. In the unnatural silence, his
resounding baritone carried his demands to the furthest
parts of the audience hall.
25 | P a g e
Immediately, three menand a woman dressed in
battle leathersstepped in front of the upholstered chair
and screened the queens person from him, a living
barricade. Their hands rested on the pommels of their
swords. Assorted palace guards hastened to encircle the
queen in a ring of bristling weaponry.
Hel snorted. I have not forgotten all civilized
behavior. I come unarmed.
A man dressed with austere elegance in close-fitting
black leather stepped forward. I am High Lord Ari
DeTano, Primo Signore of the Second Tetriarch, and
Consort to Queen Constante. You may address your
concerns to me. His bearing and commanding voice
conveyed the expectation of obedience.
Hel casually examined the High Lord of Verdantia.
So, this man led the forces that defeated the Haarb. I
heard the Constante queen had taken two lovers. My
words are for our monarch, not the men who warm her
bed.
DeTano stiffened and his cool gaze became arctic.
A tall, blond man of ethereal beauty moved to stand
beside the High Lord. I am Visconte Doral DeLorion and
Segundo Signore of the Second Tetriarchthe other
lover. Who in the seven hells are you.
The blonds quiet voice held menace. If Hel wasnt
mistaken, the man had palmed a throwing knife into his
right hand, poised for a lethal strike. Hel suspected either
man would prove formidable in combat, but something
about the slender blond suggested the killing edge of a
well-honed razor. He must be DeTanos assassin.
A third male crossed his arms over his chest and with
a low rumble of laughter, relaxed his stance. DeHelios.
Ha! The last time I saw you, you sprawled unconscious in a
shrub leaving a lovely piece of horseflesh in need of an
owner.
Hel studied the speaker. He knew that laconic
drawlbut its owner was a criminal with no love for
Verdantian nobility. What was this man doing here?
Ramsey DeKieran, you nefarious thief! You owe me the
price of that fine horse. You fell on me from a tree, you
coward. I never had a chance.
Ramsey snorted. Still an egotistical ass. You should
be grateful I took only the horse. Your head is still nicely
attached. He caught the eyes of the other two men.
Gentlemen, that tower of smelly fur is Hel. You may
know him by a different name. The Haarb called him bs
dtostthe silent death. Ramsey rolled his eyes.
Hel raised his lip in a snarl at Ramseys mockery.
Such illustrious company, DeKieran. Your status in the
world seems to have risenbut then it could hardly have
fallen lower.
Ramsey grunted. Unlikely, eh? You may address me
as Lord DeKieran, Fifteenth Earl of House DeKieran, and
the striking redhead preparing to unman you from ten feet
away is my wife, Lieutenant Colonel Steffania Rickard of
the Queens Blue Daggers. Be careful with your words,
Hel. My vixen is wicked with a throwing knife and takes
insults to me personally.
Hel arched an eyebrow in surprise and nodded at the
glorious redhead measuring him with amused golden eyes.
Maam, my condolences on your marriage. I assume you
had no choice.
The stunning mercenary hid laughter turned to cough
behind a closed fist.
So the bs dtost was real. I was never certain, the
blond assassin murmured to High Lord DeTano.
Hel swung his regard to the queens second lover and
snorted. Im real enough.
I thought you dead on that pile of ice you call a
mountain, said Ramsey.
Hel paused before answering. Many nights, alone
with his memories and tormented by dreams, he thought
death might be a kindness but he refused to take the easy
way out. A few of us still fight to survive.
A soft feminine voice caught Hels ear. Behind the
men blocking his access to the queen, Hel noticed
movement. A tall, handsome woman, a brunette with
strong, angular features cocked her head as if listening then
bent down out of sight. Her warm brown gaze, alive with
intelligence, had locked with his for a tangible moment. A
pulse of electricity ran down his spine and his instincts
jumped to alert. By Her light, who are you? Hel casually
lifted his head hoping to catch a further glimpse but she
had retreated behind solid bodies. The womens whispered
conversation carried just enough to hear.
Adonia, with your height what do you see? Describe
it.
A rather large man, Your Majesty, at least, I think
there is a man underneath all the hair and pelts. A black
beard and mustache obscure his face and his hair hangs in
ratted clumps down his forehead and back. The only thing
I can tell with certainty is that he is a hulking lump with
gray eyes and desperately in need of a barber.
Hel laughed inwardly. Yes, hulking lump in
desperate need of a barber probably described him well.
He heard a sigh and a creak from the upholstered
chair then the lilt of a melodious voice. Ari, Doral, Lord
Ramsey, please move aside so I may speak with,
ahDeHelios.
With obvious reluctance, the High Lord and his
assassin made an opening. Ramsey stayed where he was,
arms crossed, but turned to allow Hel room to pass.
Hel climbed the steps of the dais toward a delicately
beautiful blond woman, a mere pittance in the upholstered
chair. Her weight barely dented the cushions in spite of her
advanced pregnancy. The addition of a padded step stool
prevented her legs from dangling. She arranged her arms
across her belly as if somehow she would shield her
unborn babe from danger. Pain at the thought she would
consider him a threat to her child softened his aggressive
stance. His steps paused several feet from her, and he
gentled his manner.
26 | P a g e
Your Majesty is with child.
Clear blue eyes held his and her smile radiated joy.
Yes. It will be our fourth. She pushed up on the arms of
her chair and shifted to another hip. And she cannot
come soon enough. I find the waiting a
littleburdensome.
My wife complained of the same. Four children?
You are truly blessed, Maam. I wish you a trouble-free
birth and a healthy babe. He softened his gruff tone and
finished with a respectful bow. He had issues with the
Constante ruler on the Verdantian throne, but the utmost
respect for motherhood.
Thank you. She studied him for a long moment.
House DeHeliosthe first kings and queens of
Verdantia. The First Tetriarch. Hmm. Your House and the
mountain city, Nyth Uchel, are so revered by the common
people you are almost fable. All Verdantia grieved the loss
of Nyth Uchel and the radiant Torre Bianca. We thought
your line dead and Nyth Uchel razed in the Haarb
massacres. I give heartfelt thanks to know we are in error.
What brings you down from your mountain, Sir?
Maam, it is a dire and complicated story. I suggest
my tale is best discussed somewhere more comfortable for
you.
The queen moved her gaze to her consorts who
stood protectively at either side of her. Ari? Doral?
High Lord DeTano nodded. The children will be
running riot in our apartments but my office should be
comfortable enough. I would like DeKieran and Steffania
to join usand Medica Corvusattend the queen,
please. His eyes caught the tall woman who stood behind
the queens chair and the brunette nodded.
All right. Queen Constante wrestled her ungainly
body to a stand. Shall we?
Hel stepped back and held out his arm to assist her
down the steps but the beautiful blond man moved
forward and swept the slight figure of the queen into his
arms. The two exchanged a look of such love that Hel felt
he intruded on an intimacy and he immediately turned
away. The young queen must have seen his discomfort.
She reached out and touched his arm and Hel turned back
to her.
Prince DeHelios, my Segundo dislikes seeing me
waddle like a duck and finds it too painful to watch my
slow, ponderous steps. He says it is necessary to carry me
and I must confessI rather like it. Her playful grin
pulled an answering quirk of lips from Hel and an arched
brow from Doral.
My preference, my Queen, is that you forgo walking
at all and stay in bed these last two weeks, but I am just a
poor male whose wishes you blithely disregard. Doral
descended the steps and carried his queen out of the
audience hall followed by High Lord DeTano, Lord
Ramsey and his wife, Steffania, and the woman called
Adonia. Hel trailed all of them but clearly heard the
queens gentle gurgle of laughter.
I just like the feel of your arms around me, my
love.
Hel found it difficult to continue his dismissal of this
sweet-natured, loving young queen as that upstart
Constante woman. Perhaps he should have come down
from his isolated mountain sooner. He acknowledged with
bitter honesty that he envied Ari DeTano and Doral
DeLorion. They possessed what he yearned fora warm,
passionate woman to love and bear him children. Hed
even settle for what hed had beforea marriage of cold
respect if the nursery held children once more.
Light and warmth, the delectable smells of baking
bread and savory roasting meats and the lift of happy
voices wafted through the palace halls. Hel contrasted the
inviting interior of this palace with the silent, cold gloom
of Nyth Uchel. He promised himself, again, that he would
labor until the city and his home reclaimed their former
majesty and pulsed with vibrancy and lifeno matter if it
took him the rest of his life to accomplish it.

Pre-order Hers to Claim Verdantian Series Book 4 Here.

Available Sept 12, 2014

27 | P a g e
Moth
Sean t. poindexter

excerpt- Chapter 1
Dont you usually come in pairs?
Officer Unruh smiled and nodded. Yes, sir.
Max grinned. You just get out?
Yes, sir. US Marines.
Ahyeah, I recognize the haircut. It wasnt just
that. Max stood a foot over him at six feet, but the
patrolman made up for it with broad arms and a big chest.
He didnt look like he needed a partner. And then there
was this sir business
Have you been doing this long?
Ive been with the Joplin PD for five months. And
you?
Max drummed his fingers on the bag hanging from
his shoulder. Ive been a social worker long enough to
know which house on this street were going to, even
without looking at the numbers. It was the one without
siding, just bare insulation boards nailed to the outer wall.
Yes, sir.
Max didnt resent Unruhs presence; he just didnt
think it was necessary. Hed taken cops with him lots of
times, and on a few of those instances, it turned out hed
needed them. But Brian insisted the workers take cops
with them anytime an allegation of drugs was involved in a
hotline. It irritated him for a number of reasons, not the
least of which happened to be that Brians job used to be
his.
That was another story
The lawn was overgrown and the wooden porch
sagged, but they arrived at the door without incident. Max
knew the drill. The burly young policeman stepped to the
side of the locked screen door and knocked. A few
seconds later, an interior door opened and a mans face
appeared behind the filthy fly screen. Max had been
expecting a woman.
Is Donna here? The man looked at Max with
bulging, bloodshot eyes that darted back to the cop as
though expecting a friendlier face. Whatever look Unruh
gave, it wasnt what hed hoped. He returned to Max, who
repeated the question.
Shes not here.
It was eight thirty in the morning, so if she worked
she might have been there. Max didnt have employer
information for the mother. Also, he kind of doubted she
had a job.
Unruh rattled the latch a bit, but it didnt budge. Sir,
could you unlock the door please?
Whats this about?
Max stepped to the screen and held up his plastic ID
badge. It said Max Hollingsworth in big letters under a
rather unflattering picture of him. The bulging-eyed man
looked at the ID then back up at Max. He looked
surprised. He shouldnt have been.
Sir, repeated Unruh, Could you unlock the door
please?
He looked back to Unruh and nodded. After a click,
the door swung open. Max and the patrolman entered the
home.
The look on Unruhs face implied disgust. Max
grinned, he really hadnt been doing this long. The home
was a mess, but Max had seen worsefar worse. In a very
short time, so would Unruh. Places like this would become
normal for him. Max remembered when this kind of mess
would have bothered him, too.
The term shithole was tossed around so much, but
it wasnt that bad. The awkwardly rectangular living room
smelled like dog and had a few plastic microwave food
boats piled on an old coffee table. Despite the smell, there
was no dog in sight. The most expensive piece of furniture
in the room, probably the house, was a flat screen
television. It was paused on an image of a video console
football game. The wireless controller rested on a ratty
couch covered by a slightly less ratty blanket.
Donnas sleeping
You said Donna wasnt here. Max glanced over his
shoulder. The man wore dirty grey boxer shorts and a
plaid robe. Hed forgone the courtesy of a shirt, so his
guests were treated to ribs poking through the mole-
speckled, pasty skin of a man who rarely left the house.
Yeah, he replied with a dirty chuckle. I saw the
cop and said that. He looked at Unruh like he thought the
28 | P a g e
cop would be amused. The cop was not, so he looked
away.
Max produced a small notebook and pen from the
bag hanging at his side. Who are you?
Im JimI live with Donna.
You sleep on the couch? He gestured to it. Jim
shook his head.
Only in the day.
Must be nice, Max thought, sleeping in the day. You
work nights, then? Max had perfected the art of over-tact,
being a complete dick without getting punched. The
people he dealt with didnt tend to get subtlety. Unruhs
grin showed he got itthe cops usually did. They both
knew the answer already.
Naw, Im what youd call unemployed.
He thought about asking him to elaborate: What
exactly do you mean by, unemployed, sir? But that might
be overdoing it. White trash will only tolerate so much
subtle condescension.
Would you call Donna unemployed? Max asked,
after collecting pedigree information; Jims last name, date
of birth, social security number. Max was always surprised
when people gave all that to him, especially the social
security number.
No, she works at Maceys. That was not to be
confused with Macys, the retail giant. Maceys was a chain
of convenience stores/gas stations. Joplin had ninety of
them or something.
Is Madolla in her room?
No, she sleeps downstairs.
Max crooked an eye. Donna or Madolla?
Madolla. Shes around the corner, in the kitchen.
Max stopped writing. The baby sleeps in the
kitchen? He looked at the entrance to the dining room.
Presumably the kitchen was beyond that, behind the stairs.
The baby keeps us up if shes in the room.
Yeah, theyll do that.
Max walked around the corner. The stairs were
wooden and covered with peeling brown paint. A few of
them were cracked. They ended in a carpeted second floor.
The dining room lacked a table, and the kitchen beyond
was full of dirty dishes and flies. A few feet from a
neglected refrigerator sat a playpen, apparently doing
double-duty as a baby bed.
Let me get Donnas ass out of bed
Unruh stepped in from of Jim as he tried to leave.
Not just yet. Max approached the pen. Jim
followed, but Unruh stopped him at the dining room
entrance.
I think Donna should be here, I cant just let anyone
see her kid you know
Im not just anyone...I work for the State.
Shes sleeping. He seemed to be gauging his
chances of darting past Unruh without being tackledor
perhaps his odds of survival if it occurred. He chose the
prudent path. If you wake her up, Donnall be pissed. She
cries a lot.
Theyll do that, too.
She was crying for like, hours last night.
Aside from the slight dirty-diaper smell, Madolla and
her pen were clean and well taken care of. The report said
she was six months old, but she looked like a newborn.
She was lying on her belly, still and peaceful. Max started
to smile
She was bawling all night, until about four this
morning.
When was the last time you or Donna checked her?
Max lowered his hand into the pen and pressed his fingers
to her little scalp.
Checked her?
To see why she was crying.
I turned up the TV and she cried herself out.
When?
When what?
When did she stop crying?
Jim scratched his scalp through greasy brown hair.
Like three or something. It usually takes longer.
Max withdrew his hand from the pen and wrote all
that down. The tap of pen on paper competed evenly with
the soft hum of the refrigerator condenser.
Officer Unruh, can you call an ambulance please?
Jims eyes widened. Ambulance?
Unruh didnt ask any questions. The distraught look
on his face showed he didnt need to. Unruh stepped away
from Jim to the living room and pressed the button on his
shoulder communicator.
Oh, shit Should I wake Donna? Jim stepped
closer to Max so he didnt interrupt the stream of
ambulance-summoning cop jargon.
That would be a good idea, Max kept his voice as
flat as possible, but under the circumstances his bile filter
was a little taxed.
Shit! What do I tell her? Is Madolla okay?
Max turned his eyes to the pen.
Shes dead.

Seans Links:
Website: http://www.seanpoindexter.com/
Goodreads: Sean T. Poindexter on Goodreads

Moth on Amazon.com: Moth on Amazon
29 | P a g e

The Policeman
A short story in the Dead Planet Series
By Drew Avera

I could feel my communicator buzzing in my left
breast pocket as I strolled through downtown Archea. My
intent to ignore the call was secondary to my need to finish
my assignment. To say that I didn't have time for this was
putting it lightly. In the last year of working with the
Agency I have put down at least twenty hits, most were a
standard procedure of tracking and killing, but this one
was different. My target was a woman who was a newer
member of the Syndicate, at least for now. My brief had
stated that she had been embezzling money through a
series of contracts in order to build up her wealth.
Apparently personal growth and success in the
organization known as the Syndicate, a group of business
class criminals was a no-no.
The hardest part of tracking this woman was that she
bore a resemblance to my sister, Kara. I had seen a
holographic display of Ms. Taggert and it had caused my
blood to turn cold...briefly. My programming had kicked in
and dulled the personal attachment that I was associating
with my target which would allow me to focus on the task
at hand, to kill her.
Downtown Archea was alight with activity. The
solstice festival which was underway was a week-long
celebration that had roots to our earthly beginnings. I'm
not sure of the significance, but it gave most people an
opportunity to lay back and consume copious amounts of
alcohol and opiates. The party atmosphere was both
distracting due to the sights, as well as making it hard to
find Ms. Taggert, whom may or may not be dressed in
festive costumes like most of the people in the square.
"You see anything?" my associate Thom asked as he
appeared from behind the shadows of an overhang. He
was fresh out of training and had been assigned to me as
my protg. Mentoring in the Agency was something liken
to a big brother program for at risk youth. It was designed
to serve a noble purpose, but most mentors misused their
authority and destroyed the relationship between
themselves and their fellow policemen. I felt a
responsibility to do things differently, though. Perhaps it
was part of my consciousness that was still intact from
before the brain washing known as programming.
"Nothing, You?" I asked more as a way of reassuring
the fact that he had done everything in his power to track
our target. Sometimes a question that you fail to ask
yourself can be the difference between turning over all of
the stones, or just turning over the wrong ones.
"No, sir," he said. "I even took the opportunity to
survey Pontiff White's Palace to see if he had any guests,"
The possibility of White taking an opportunity to host a
lovely woman in his Palace was not out of the question,
though given the fact that he was little more than the
Syndicate's puppet made me wary to think that he had the
audacity to aid a fugitive. He was usually the first to know
about hits filed through the Agency, unless of course he
was going to be the target.
"Very well, let us go back to Taggert's home. Maybe
she will be returning soon," I said as I shoved my hands
into the deep pockets of my uniform jacket. The gauntlet
on my right wrist made it a tight fit, but I was used to it.
"Are you sure? She most likely knows about the hit
by now," Thom said with concern shown upon his face. I
could tell that he was going to take failure personally. It
was just a part of the programming he received as a
prospect of the Agency. I had the same reactions early on
in my career, it was a notion that dulled over time, but
would never really go away.
"We don't have much choice," I assured him as I
turned to walk back to her apartment. It was an unusually
large complex in a luxurious tower that overlooked the
Archean Sea. Thom followed me the five blocks towards
Taggert's home in silence. It was rare for two policemen to
engage in work conversation in public due to the sensitive
nature of our work, the strategic killing of political targets,
targets assigned by the Syndicate and carried out by
policemen who worked for the Agency.
30 | P a g e
We arrived in the lobby of the apartment building
about twenty minutes later and the entire lobby was
adorned with shimmering crystals that reflected the lights
in the ceiling. I came across a mirror that rested between
two elevator doors and I couldn't even recognize myself
anymore. My cheeks were sunken in and my raven black
hair rested in an unkempt fashion atop my head. The
image actually made me realize that I was hungry and
hadn't taken the opportunity to eat anything since
yesterday. Kara had mentioned the fact that she felt that
there was something wrong with me, like maybe I was
depressed and starving myself. I had assured her that was
not the case, assured her, not myself.
"Are you all right?" Thom interrupted my self-
loathing as his reflection stepped closer to mine. He
looked much healthier than I did, with his plump cheeks
and red hair that was combed back and held in place with
product. We looked like opposing sides of the same coin.
Our black jackets hung off of us and dangled at an angle
behind us. It was the fashion of the day, but it was a
useless design beyond that. The elevator dinged and the
doors opened, drawing my attention to the fact that I had
been staring at our reflections and failed to answer Thom's
question.
"I'm fine," I lied. The truth was that I was tired of
waking up each day for a job that I hated. I knew that I
should not have those thoughts about my job, not because
it shouldn't be true, but because my programming was
supposed to have removed those types of thinking from
my mind. A certain amount of fear resided because of that
knowledge, something I would have to take to the grave, I
figured. No need to show the Agency that I was flawed or
else risk losing everything, which wasn't much to be
honest. I only had my sister, Kara. It was a cardinal sin
within the Agency to maintain contact with our families. I
did so in secret and kept it to myself. I had only shared my
secret with one other person, Thom, whom I trusted most.
We entered the elevator and I watched as he pressed
the touch screen and typed in the number sixteen which
would lead us to that floor. I could feel the gentle rise of
the elevator beneath my feet and if I struggled to listen I
could hear a slight whirring sound that emanated from
outside pulleys and cables guiding us to our destination.
The stop was just as subtle as the rise had been and the
doors opened automatically to reveal a lavish hallway
adorned with framed paintings of the men and women
who had owned the apartments, I was certain that more
than one of them had been members of the Syndicate
themselves. I wondered how many of them had died by a
policeman's gauntlet.
Those questions would have to wait until later.
We moved through the hallway to the door that led
into the suite where Ms. Taggert was reported to live. I
noticed instantly that the door was slightly ajar. This had
not been the case a few hours ago when we originally
scoped the area. I made a nod towards Thom to silently
alert him to what I had seen and he shook his head in
acknowledgment. This could mean one of two things,
either she was home and neglected to close the door
properly, or another policeman had been assigned to the
case. There were only a few times that I could recall
multiple policemen being tasked with the same target,
usually that was reserved for severe cases where the
Syndicate feared the person was a flight risk. Usually a
single policeman was assigned a job and was only relieved
if he could not get it done.
I reached down to the silver gauntlet that resided on
my right wrist and used the touchscreen to adjust the dial
setting. The gauntlet was powered and controlled through
small needles that were injected into my skin which
connected to the nearest nerve endings in my muscle
tissue. This allowed me to control the rate of fire much
like a person can control their grip on an object. The
nerves would receive stimuli from the brain and trigger
whatever effect the person desired. The electronic
impulses from the brain also allowed a trickle charge to the
gauntlet which powered the touchscreen where I adjusted
the intensity of the laser and could turn the sight beam on
and off. I adjusted the gauntlet to full force, no need to
milk the woman's death. I had nothing to gain in doing so.
I nudged the door open and winced at the slight
creaking noise that followed. I much preferred the
advantage of stealth like movement when stalking a target.
Not many of them fought back, but you never truly knew
who you were up against. Thom followed me inside and
we made our way through Taggert's home as quietly as
possible. I could see a few holographic pictures that
illuminated above the entertainment center. It appeared
that she had a brother who was a few years older than I
was and her mother was around my own mother's age, at
least if my mother was still alive. I buried that thought as
quickly as I could. I needed to focus on the task at hand,
not on the past. I could hear sounds coming from the
bedroom of the apartment, it had to be her, and it sounded
as if she were speaking with someone.
I eased closer to the dark mahogany door that led
presumably into Ms. Taggert's bedroom and placed my
hand on the doorknob. I gave it a gentle, quiet turn and
pushed it open while keeping my eyes open for any
potential threats. I was correct at assuming this was a
bedroom, but there was no way it belonged to a woman. It
had a dark, sullen look and it was far too cluttered to
belong to a wealthy woman who based her life decisions
on perceptions from other people. I let loose of the
doorknob and walked in, a little off guard much to my
detriment.
It wasn't until I heard the lurching sound coming
from Thom's throat that I realized that we were under
attack. I spun around to see Thom dangling by his neck by
the man I had seen pictured with Taggert in the other
room. This man was about my height, but seemed to have
the strength of four men. I leveled my gauntlet at him, but
31 | P a g e
with a sweep of his arm he leveled me. I grasped the side
of my head from the blow and recoiled into the fetal
position when he drove a booted foot into my sternum. I
felt pain like I had not experienced since my time as a
prospect.
I looked up to see the man throw Thom across the
room and into a wall. The Sheetrock buckled under
Thom's weight and he smashed through the wall and fell
limp to the ground. I knew I needed to move, but the
sharp pain in my chest prevented me from doing so
quickly. I struggled to breathe. There was nothing else I
could do as Taggert's brother drove his foot down onto
me again. This time I knew there would be broken ribs
involved, the evidence of it protruded from my ribcage
and punctured the skin on my right side. I gasped for
whatever amount of air could replenish my aching lungs
and labored as my chest cavity expanded with each
attempt.
"Linnis," I heard a woman shout barely over the
ringing in my ears. I tilted my head up to see my target
stand there with dark hair that rested above her shoulders.
She was dressed in a pant suit with gold adornment along
the edging of the jacket. I could see the look of shock on
her face, but was it because her monster of a brother was
attempting murder in her home, or was it the fact that two
policemen were in her home? She could surely put two and
two together and deduce why we were there. She was
targeted by the Syndicate.
Linnis stood down from his attack and crossed his
arms in a defensive pose. It was clear his older sister ruled
his small little world, but I was unsure to what extent her
control over him would last. I could see Thom move
slightly out of the corner of my eye which was a small
relief in a rather bleak introduction to the Taggerts.
"Forgive my brother," she said as she extended a hand to
help me up. I grasped it with my right hand and the blue
beam that shown from the diffuser of my gauntlet
illuminated upon her shoulder. She stared at it for a
moment before speaking, "It would seem that Linnis
interrupted a rather important assignment, Mr.?" she
paused and waited for me to say my name.
"Blackwell, my name is Serus Blackwell," I said with a
rasp. I could barely stand, let alone talk due to the pain.
"Well, Mr. Blackwell, to what do I owe the honor of
the momentous occasion?" she asked after dropping her
arm from my grip and walking slowly to a plush navy blue
love seat that was nestled against a gray wall. I noted that
this was the most respectable piece of furniture in the
room, a room with dirty laundry and electronics strewn
about haphazardly.
"I think you are aware of that by now," I said.
"Yes, well, I can only assume at this point that
someone in the Syndicate has it out for me. The reason
you may be more privileged with that information than I
am," she said as matter-of-fact as she could.
She was a strong woman. That was for damn sure.
I exhaled deeply and retrieved the communicator
from my pocket. The missed calls were stacked up in the
queue, but I ignored them. I didn't have time for returning
them. I scrolled through the assignment list and opened
the file for Mira Taggert, I scrolled down the holographic
image that appeared above my communicator and found
the supposed reason for the assignment. "Apparently
someone believes that you have been embezzling money
from your business and stocking up your wealth. There is
evidence that points towards fraudulent account
transaction and misrepresentation for expenditures
through your corporate entity, Taggeris Incorporated."
Taggeris was a company founded by her great
grandfather about a century ago which was the leading
manufacturer of the electromagnetic plates and nano-fiber
used to repair our artificial atmosphere. They had
revolutionized the technology that otherwise had not
changed much since its initial inception. Now the service
life of each plate was extended by four times the previous
models service life. To put it in layman's terms, they are
more efficient and more reliable than the previous
competitors out there. It was also much more expensive.
"That's nonsense!" she stood exasperated. "Our
company was founded on integrity and I would never do
anything to jeopardize my family's company. It means
everything to me," she said.
"That's not my problem, Ms. Taggert," I said coldly
as Thom, who was now sitting upright against the
crumpled wall that Linnis had thrown him into looked up
at me. His face was bruised and a small amount of blood
was dried under his nostrils.
"Do I not at least have an opportunity to confront
my accuser?" she was stalling. I could tell that she had
noticed the extent of my injury and planned to leverage it
against me in order to make her escape.
"You know it doesn't work that way," Thom said
sourly. He knew the system and how it worked, just as
much as she did. Mira looked down as Linnis stepped
behind her and draped his arms around her.
"I know," she replied as she curled into Linnis' arms
and placed a delicate hand around his neck. Her face
drifted into his shoulder as she waned from the reality of
what was to be her end.
Linnis looked up at Thom as a barely audible whisper
escaped her lips. I was not attuned to reading lips, but
based on the cold glare when Linnis stared at Thom I
could see that this family was not going to go down
without a fight. Without any type of physical warning
Linnis lunged at Thom and bore his full weight into
Thom's stomach. I could hear the air escape in a solid
burst of air that reminded me of a balloon bellowing the
air as it was squeezed free from its confinement, even to
the staccato bursts at the end of the exhale.
Mira caught on to my distraction and leapt towards
me with an ornate spear that had been resting against the
bedroom wall. The glistening ivory of the shaft was
32 | P a g e
engraved with some kind of writing that may have been
traceable to her familys ancestry before colonizing Mars.
Or it could have been decorative, either way it would
impale me to a certain death. Not one that I was
particularly interested in experiencing.
I brought my left hand down as the spear
approached. Her hesitation at the last minute had given me
just enough time to grip it tightly with one hand and to
shove my fist into her shoulder knocking her to the floor.
The effort took a bit out of me and I could see blood
dripping from my body to the floor at a steady rate now.
"You son of a bitch, do you understand who I am?
Who my family is? You will be killed for what you have
done to me!" she screamed before choking on a sob that
was caught in her throat. Her makeup was running down
her face and it reminded me of one of the masks I had
seen at the Solstice Festival earlier in the evening, as the
red and white lights danced against the plastic exterior of
the woman's face in the square. Mira ran her sleeve across
her face and she sat on her knees and waited for the blast
from my gauntlet that would end her life.
I looked up at Thom to see that he had killed Linnis
with the silent killer that rested on his own arm. Mira did
not follow my gaze. She knew the silence that filled the
room answered the question that poured from her heart.
What about my brother? She would feel the question
more than ask it. I knew because I had felt the same when
my mother had passed.
I watched above as her head fell into her hands and
muffled the anguish of her loss. She would not feel it
much longer as I lifted my arm and pointed the beam in
her direction. I was only following orders in the same
detached way I had been trained to do, but I felt
something more this time. You could call it a connection,
or a twinge of sympathy that had no business clouding my
mind. The programming kicked in as my emotions entered
the equation, rational thought was smothered by my
training and I braced myself for that simple, controllable
act, and fired.
It was over, another assignment that ripped the
tethered soul that rested somewhere deep inside the
monster that I had become. The monster I should not
recognize as a monster because of the programming, but
yet it still reared its ugly head. I lowered my arm and
turned away from Thom who was watching me, learning
from me, as was his lot in this relationship. I could not
bear to allow him to see me struggle with this
assassination, wounded or otherwise.
It was not the death, but the life that it resembled that
tore at my mind. Mira bore such a close resemblance to my
sister Kara. I could not help the fact that my association
with the two entered my mind as the laser blasted through
my targets head. It was done, there was no going back.
Even if I could take it back, another policeman would be
assigned to carry out the execution.
I swallowed bile and the burn in my throat brought
me back to reality. I inhaled deeply before walking away,
holding my side and grimacing in pain.
"Are you all right?" Thom asked with concern
coloring his face.
"I'm fine," I lied. The only way I was going to get
through this was to remove the emotional attachment that
I carried with me always. I knew what needed to be done. I
had to distance myself from my only surviving relative. I
had to destroy my family before the monster inside of me
destroyed it for me. "Can you file the report, Thom?" I
asked in an effort to take some time to myself.
"Of course, Serus," he said behind me.
"Good. I've got something I need to take care of," I
said as I left the Taggert residence and reached for my
communicator. Kara's number was the fourth one from
the top, and I slid my finger over her name and waited for
the sound of her voice to greet me on the other end. I had
known for some time that this day was inevitable. It was
for her own good, and mine. The part that hurt most was
that I knew it would be for the last time. I had to let go of
the past in order to survive the future. I just hoped that
she could understand that and not hate me for it later. This
genuinely was an act of love, even if it did not feel like it.
"Hello," she said into her communicator. I hesitated,
trying hard to delay the inevitable, the hurt and the
heartache. "Serus, are you there?"
I couldn't wait any longer.
"Kara, it's me. We need to talk," I said finally. And
that was how I was to put the past behind me, with death
and depression.

If you enjoyed this preview, email at drewavera@gmail.com and he will send you a PDF version
Dead Planet Book One: Exodus for the low, low price of FREE! Thank you for reading!

For more Drew Avera: Drew Avera on Amazon or Drew Avera on Smashwords

33 | P a g e

Unexpectedly Mated
Mi l ly taiden

EXCERPT

FOR CRYING OUT loud! Nicole Acosta tugged the
earpiece out and glared at it. It wasnt that she didnt like
Emma, heck, most of the time she pretty much ignored
her friend. Emma was justbossy. Yeah, bossy. But
tonight, that wasnt the problem. She glared into the
darkness. There better not be any mosquitoes or shed go
ballistic. Already her skin crawled with the thought of what
could be in the area.
She shoved the ear piece back in.
Its only for a little while, Jordan said. Well be out
of here in no time, Nic.
Right. Not frickin likely. She bit her lip to swallow
the yell she wanted to throw at her friends. There were
bugs all over the place and she and bugs did not mix. Shed
have to buy new trainers after this. There was no way in
hell shed wear those mud-covered ones again.
Its not the end of the world, Emma whispered.
We all agreed to come and do this for Ellie. Just suck it
up.
Suck it up? Easy for her to say. Emma loved the
outdoors and all that stuff. Outdoors to Nic meant the
park. Or the pool. Now here she was, like a deranged
teenager, spying on a scent ritual that was sacred to Ellies
people. All for what? To catch a glimpse of Jake Wolfe.
That philandering mutt.
She couldnt help herself, she peeked over the
ceremony site where Mrs. Wolfe or as she preferred to be
called, Barbara, motioned the guys into the woods. Ellie
said theyd be on watch. Something moved on Nics leg.
Oh God. Was it a snake? She peered into the darkness and
swatted away whatever crawled on her.
The things she did for her insatiable crush on Jake.
Itd been that way from the first time shed met him. And
what a way to meet a man that had been. If first
impressions were everything, Nic got the best first
impression of Jake ever. Shed visited Ellies house for a
weekend sleepover when theyd been in college. Their
gazes met and she swore shed been electrocuted. Shed
been rooted to the spot like an idiot, staring at his
hunkiness in all his wet and naked glory with stars in her
eyes. Well, thats what he loved to tell her.
From that moment on, Nic knew she couldnt let Jake
get to her. He was the worlds biggest flirt, used to women
falling to his feet. And while she wasnt familiar with the
whole love thing, she knew all about lust. Hed smiled one
time. Thats all it took. For him to show her that dimple
she
adored and her girly bits had readied for surrender. Not to
mention her brain cells had gone AWOL. It was pathetic.
It was also the reason why shed let herself get talked into
sitting on a picnic blanket, with her knees to her chest. She
still couldnt figure out what made the noise in the grass.
Maybe Ellie was wrong. What if there were snakes
there? A firefly zoomed around her. She watched the tiny
bug light up the dark with its yellow glow, zipping and
buzzing back and forth in front of her. Some bugs werent
so scary. From far away.
Her attention shot down to the blanket in the
darkness. Shed swear it moved again. Her mind ran on
overdrive and she knew the likelihood of her seeing shit
that wasnt even there was big. She took a deep breath and
sighed. Her muscles ached from how tense she held
herself. The nights coolness did nothing to stop the heat
from the earlier part of the day. Her tank top stuck to her
back. She yanked on the front part and blew on her boobs.
Thank goodness she was alone or shed look so stupid
doing that.
The others had gone silent. She wondered what they
were up to. Where they as freaked out as her? Probably
not. Shed bet Emma would live in the damn forest if she
got a chance. Leaves crunched from a nearby bush. With
an agility she knew she didnt possess, she got on her
knees on the blanket. The noise in the trees increased. Fear
froze the blood in her veins. Her heartbeat thundered in
her ears along with the sound of the harsh breaths that
34 | P a g e
struggled in and out of her lungs. There was a wild animal
near her.
Holy. Shit.
Oh, hell no! There was no way she would sit
around to find out what the heck was in the bush. She
struggled to her feet. Her leg had gone numb so she had to
put her weight, which was not just a couple of pounds, on
her other leg. Screw the video, shed return in the morning
and remove the camera.
She bent and yanked her bag from the blanket.
Something poked at her ass. She turned on her heel to run.
Her knees hit a big lump offur? Her body did a full flip
over the big furry body and she landed on her back with a
thud, half on and half off the blanket.
Ouch!
Within seconds, a furry face she knew all too well
came into view.
Jake?
The big wolf lowered his head down to her face and
licked her cheek. Figured. He was such a horndog. Even in
his animal shape, he was still a flirt.
Jake, Im sure you have better things to do than
scare me half to death. Then, when she remembered
where she lay, she scooted up to sit on the blanket. I need
to get out of here before something else crawls on my leg.
Jake growled. She widened her eyes in disbelief. Did
you just growl at me you big mutt?
The wolf prowled around her in a full circle. She
couldnt figure out what the hell Jake thought he was
doing, but she had to get off that grass. There was shit in it
and she couldnt see it for the life of her. She lifted a hand
to her ear. The others were much too quiet. Her hand
touched a small diamond stud. Shed lost the ear piece.
Fuck!
Jake growled again.
Shut it, mutt. If youre not here to help me, then you
better go, she hissed, then tapped the massive wolfs nose
and turned. Now on all fours, she tried to peer into the
darkness for the ear piece. This is the shit I get into for
minding other peoples business. If Id have stayed home
and bought shoes online, this wouldnt have happened,
she mumbled, feeling along the blanket for the small piece
of technology. I could be having a nice Apple Martini or
a Cosmo and watching my man Vin Diesel riding the
streets in his latest flick. But no, I had to come here to see
what all the fuss was about with mating between shifters.
She didnt care that she continued to ramble while
Jake, in the form of a wolf, stood behind her. The idea of
him as nothing more than a possible pet was easier to
handle than his sexy human face. Or those big arms. Or
those washboard abs. She gulped. Crap if she continued to
think of him as a man, shed end up all kinds of turned on.
If she started thinking of him naked shed be in all
kinds of trouble. That had been the worst way to meet a
man. Although with his body, it was probably the best
unexpected nudity shed ever come across. Her first time
in the Wolfe household and shed opened the wrong door
to see Jake. A very wet and naked Jake that had just
showered. Her mouth had dropped open, ready to
apologize, but then hed smiled. Shed been a goner ever
since.
So many years had passed and hed never let her
forget that day. From then on hed flirted endlessly with
her and did his best to taunt her into seeing him as more.
Only with Jake, more came at a price. From what she knew
he wasnt interested in anything long-term, much less a
serious relationship. Not that Nic wanted long-term
commitment either. She wouldnt mind long-term fun
though. And Jake the dirty-talker could probably make her
come with just the things he said to her. Christ. Most of
the time their conversations ended with her rushing home
to take a cold showerwith her vibrators.
Jake was another story. According to Ellie he didnt
even have a cell phone on contract because he didnt like
commitment. That spoke volumes of him. It didnt stop
the fact that Nic had developed some feelings for Jake.
Feelings she didnt like to think about most of the time.
Emotions were dangerous. She wasnt familiar with them
much and preferred to keep them as far away as possible.
Nic
Hearing Jake say her name made her squeal. Before
she could catch her breath, his hands were on her hips,
pulling her back into him. Air caught in her throat. He
gripped her waist. Held her captive. The hard bar of his
cock pressed at her butt, the thin spandex from her yoga
gear no match for his hardness.
Jake What? Her throat went dry. She didnt
know what to say, only that she really liked how good he
felt holding her. How wet it made her to feel him pressing
on her ass.
God, Nic, he growled softly. I love how fucking
good you smell. Youre hot for me. Arent you,
sweetheart?
Buy Links
Amazon.com: http://goo.gl/m1v07Y
B&N http://goo.gl/nsWpNp
Add to your Goodreads To Read List Unexpectedly Mated on Goodreads
ARE Cafe: http://goo.gl/DY0eTa
35 | P a g e

36 | P a g e
The Cat Wore Electric
Goggles by Ian Hutson
By Christoph fischer (WEBSITE)

The Cat Wore Electric Goggles by Ian
Hutson is an inspired, absurd, hilarious and
witty selection of highly amusing short
stories. Whether set in space or in the
English Countryside, expect the unexpected
and enjoy as the nonsensical makes oddly
sense. It would be hard to pick a favourite
story. I loved Captain Faraday and his cat in
space, Mister Stringer and the consequences
of choosing the proper water for his tea and
the British attempt at travelling to the
moon. All of them sparkle with ideas and
originality, some louder than others, but all
very entertaining.

Hutsons humour is great fun but it has a
profound basis in English culture and
human nature. It is light-hearted but behind
the silliness there lies a mind capable of
sharp and true observations. His ability with
the English language is superb; his style is
elegant, confident and magical. A truly
excellent selection, highly recommended.

According to sources close to the authors
cat walker the aim was to write old-
fashioned science-fiction with lots of rocket
ships and chaps doing splendid stuff but
buried amongst it is the usual humour with
an attempt at some serious commentary on
the meaning of life too Age range of the
book is from just weaned to pensioner
in nappies.
THE OFFICIAL BLURB GOES LIKE
THIS:
Twelve mildly amusing fictions in vague
science from an old-fashioned English
gentleman who believes wholeheartedly in
the cast iron foundation of rocket ships,
good manners and always firing a warning
shot over the heads of any belligerent mob
before sending in the memsahib to duff em
up.

If variety is the spice of life then this
collection is a damnably splendid curry of
improbable human conditions and
improbable human beings. The ingredients
include a spot of gentle medieval scifi,
proper rocket ships, alien invasion of
England, secret government satellites
crashing and releasing stockpiled dinosaur
DNA, insane Cold War time travel, groovy
Victorian orang-utans in space, the
televising of Englands first Moon landing,
a very rude first contact, young Mr
Darwins explanation of evolution placed in
startling juxtaposition to flora and fauna on
a distant planet, one or two maritime
ghosts, a terrifying new virus and a
detective with a serious career problem. I
refrain for obvious reasons from
mentioning here the elderly ladies in fur
bikinis, and the least said about the Austin-
Morris Motor Car Companys robotic
labour relations the better. Suffice it to say
that the man from the past isnt happy, and
alls well that ends well, provided that
youre a whale.

You wont be a better person for having
read this collection, but you will have a very
respectable frown and a ruddy good
permanently raised eyebrow under which to
secure your monocle. Life is such utter
nonsense.

Short author bio: Born during tiffin at half-
past nineteen-sixty. Grew up initially in
Hong Kong speaking only Cantonese, then
bounced around living some really boring
places (Air Force bases) and some brilliant
places, such as the Isle of Lewis in
Scotlands Outer Hebrides. Lived in
seventeen different homes as a child,
attending twelve different schools and
missed one complete year at age nine years,
while living in Banham Zoo in Norfolk.
Home there was between the monkeys and
the bears, looking out over the penguins
and the wolves (these latter two were in
separate habitats of course).
During the eighties was recruited into the
British Civil Service, studied for a B.A. in
Operational Research Systems Analysis,
then an M.A. in Industrial Relations.
Thrown out of the Civil Service, worked for
a few multi-nationals such as ITSA, EDS,
AVIVA. Thrown out of the multi-nationals,
started own businesses. Went splendidly
bankrupt, ended up in County Court in
front of a seriously lovely Judge and lost
house, car and valuables but not liberty, to
the banks and to Her Majestys Official
Receivers.

Now lives in uber-serious penury in a
corner of a field in Lincolnshire, England,
as a peacenik, vegan, non-theist hippie and
when not writing spends his time
wandering the lanes ranting at sparrows and
the occasional passing tractor. Is a very
lucky, and a very happy chappy indeed.
Next book(s) will be The Dog With The
Bakelite Nose (scifi collection) and some
updated, mangled legends and fairy-tales.
Amazon link -http://smarturl.it/TCWEG
iTune link - http://smarturl.it/iTCWEG
Smashwords link -Ian Hutson on
Smashwords

My previous feature on Ian

Beyond The Black Sea
by M. Joseph Murphy
Travis luedke (website)

Those naughty little half-demon bast-
ards are at it again! Wisdom, a genie and
time-traveler extraordinaire, is back with all
the usual suspects, for round two of the
Activation saga. The mythology delves deep
into the very origins of humanity, birthed
from the decadence and decline of Atlantis.

37 | P a g e
Plots hatched millenniums ago are
coalescing into the endgame and the end
of mankind.

In short: Earth is screwed.

The only thing standing in the way of
Armageddon is a gang of half-demon
bastards, the last people youd ever want
tasked with saving the world. Antiheroes
abound in this short, intense tale of a bad
situation gone to hell faster than a jail cell
fills with drug addicts.

Its X-men on crack, complete with
doomsday devices, wizards, winged
lizardmen assassins, dragons, shapeshifters,
body-snatching demons, and of course,
undead cybernetic solders that catch a scent
and hunt their prey to the ends of the Earth
all the old favorites.

Fans of dark fantasy, urban fantasy and
horror should love this fast-paced novel
chocked full of mayhem, chaos,
destruction, and snappy one-liners. Joseph
Murphy at his best.

Grab it on Amazon OR
Add it to Goodreads.

Check out my review of the paranormal
badassary of Joseph Murphys first
novel, Council of Peacocks.

Snow Blood BY CAROL
MCKIBBEN
STEPHANIE MCKIBBEN (WEBSITE)

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Our main character, Snow Blood, is the
best vampire guard dog ever!! If I turn into
an undead, I want Snow Blood covering my
back!

This story is along the lines of
unconditional love like the authors last
book Lukes Tale but Snow Blood is
more epic!

We get to see things through the eyes of a
dog watching the love of Brogios life walk
in while the jealous god that cursed him
tries to rip the lovers apart. Snow Blood has
none of that and seeks to help Brogio and
Selene be together!

Fun, fast read!
Snow Blood on Goodreads
SIGHT: The Dream Guild
Chronicles Book Two
by David Bruns
CERI LONDON (WEBSITE)

In
the exciting sequel to Irradiance, its been
four months since the six refugees fled the
dystopian Community of Sindra, and
already the Joined adults are showing signs
of sickness. In their search for a new home,
time is not their ally.

A routine planetary survey goes horribly
wrong, leaving a native boy near death. In a
desperate attempt to save his life, the boy is
given a transfusion of Sariahs bloodand
the crew makes an amazing discovery.

Sariah is adopted into the boys clan as the
Fountain of Dreams, the mysterious girl
from the stars who brought them the gift of
dreams. But superstitions run deep in the
clan and not everyone is happy with the
new freedoms, especially Nisador, the
tribes Sacred Mother.

Sariah learns the ways of the clan are
harsheven deadly.
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Not too long ago I reviewed Irradiance,
Book One in The Dream Guild
Chronicles, and had been eagerly
awaiting the next book in the series. So
when David gifted me Sight, I tucked it
away for my holiday! What decadent
pleasure - the Tuscany sun, a shaded
terrace overlooking rolling vinyards, a
glass of wine, and Sight.

In Book One of The Dream Guild
Chronicles, I was captivated by one familys
fight to escape a sophisticated society, a
commune of telepaths, whose leaders are
prepared to commit any atrocity and ignore
any danger to preserve their way of life. In
Sight, the second book in the series,
Maribel and Reese are searching for a home
for their daughter, Sariah, and they believe
the inhabitants of an Earth-like planet can
provide Sariah her destined future.

Sight is Sariahs tale and her immersion into
her new adopted family reveals a fascinating
culture. I stepped into Sariahs new world
and watched a girl grow into a young
woman, torn between her heart and duty as
layer upon layer of clan history is slowly
divulged.

David Bruns creates a world of dream
bubbles and inner sight, mystical orbs and
Sacred Mothers. This society that has taken
Sariah into its midst has a ranking system
that promotes jealousy and competition as
well as courage and compassion. But when
the powerful do not abide by the code of
honour at its heart, Sariah becomes a victim
of envy and suspicion as traditional laws
turn young love into a dirty secret and allow
her elders to dictate her life under the guise
of duty for the common good.

As the story reaches its dramatic
conclusion, the source of the Sacred
Mothers rule over the clan alters Sariahs
life forever. The ending is quick and signals
the start of a new chapter in the characters
lives, a signature of the author I am
discovering. Fortunately, there are
questions still to answer as the fate of
Reese, Maribel and Sariahs twin, Gideon,
remains unknown.
38 | P a g e

Roll on Book Three!

Add Sight to your Goodreads To Read List

TIN MEN by Amalie Jahn
By Christoph fischer (WEBSITE)

I consider myself very lucky that I managed
to get hold of an ARC of Tin Men by
Amalie Jahn.

After reading The Clay Lion I couldnt
wait to see where she would take her young
adult time travelling series and Jahn did not
disappoint me at all.

In Clay Lion Brooke tried to save her ill
brother through time travel, this time the
focus is on her boyfriend Charlie, who at
the funeral of his father, finds out that he is
adopted. The opening scene at the dreary
funeral and the emotions that follow are
portrayed with her usual sensitive, warm
and empathetic style. Even if you have not
read the Clay Lion you will feel for the
wonderfully kind lead characters with their
problems, choices and feelings.

The discovery of an old picture in his
fathers belongings sets in motion the
question of identity and a search for
Charlies real family. Again, Jahn handles a
difficult subject matter with sensitivity,
grace and depth. As Charlie and Brooke
play detectives the subject of adoption gets
highlighted from different angles, leaving
plenty of food for thought with this reader.
The series is set in a time where Time travel
is possible and legal, yet heavily regulated
and restricted. Brooke persuades Charlie to
use his once-a-lifetime time travel trip to
find out more. From here Jahn takes us into
a cleverly plotted sequence that puts Charlie
towards tough choices. The novel explores
the logical implications of time travel and
cause and effects brilliantly and had me
quite in awe of the twists and turns that this
brought with it.

At the heart, this is a story of love and
family, about family values and deep
emotional ties. The bond between Charlie
and Brooke is strong and beautiful to see,
as is the bond between Charlie and his
sister Melody. The characters in this book
are all very engaging and serve the story and
its message of true love very well.

This is every bit as accomplished as The
Clay Lion was and Amalie Jahn is a
talented, thoughtful and kind-hearted
author whose books will bring tears to your
eyes but will leave you moved, warmed and
full of hope.

The book on your Amazon site

39 | P a g e

GET A WORLD OF WORLDS TODAY: FREE!
40 | P a g e
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