excerpts – Page 3 – One Thousand And One Parsecs

WIP excerpt: Edenfall

It’s been a while since I did one of these, so I thought I’d share a quick excerpt from my current WIP. This one is from chapter 2, where Khalil Al-Marikh is introduced. He and Estee are the two major viewpoint characters of this book.

This excerpt hasn’t been edited yet, so any typos or other mistakes will be fixed before I publish the book.

Paradise Found

Lieutenant Khalil Ibn Yusef Al-Marikh tapped his earpiece with one hand and held onto his seat with the other as the lightly armored rover bounced on the uneven, rocky ground. His driver, Private Andre Cernovich, seemed to be in a great hurry to arrive without even knowing their destination. That, or Cernovich was simply joyriding.

“Sergeant Peters, this is Khalil. What do you have for me?”

“We’ve found what looks to be the scientists’ expedition compound two klicks out from the space elevator. Our heat sensors show that it’s inhabited. What do you want us to do?”

On the display screen just below the windshield, a green dot blinked to show the sergeant’s. Corporal Cernovich swerved and headed in that direction.

“Are they armed?” Khalil asked.

“Not from what we can tell. Though they may be armed with bows and arrows like those natives who shot at us on the way in.”

Khalil remembered the look on their shuttle pilot’s face as the arrows had clattered against the cockpit window. His men had proceeded through the brush with caution, though thankfully, the natives hadn’t shown up since.

“Hold your ground and wait for us to join you. We’re about five minutes out.”

“Copy, Kali. We’ll establish a perimeter and await your arrival.”

The connection cut out. Khalil focused his attention forward as the roar of the rover’s engines not quite managed to drown out the sound of the native wildlife. The ground, though rocky like his Martian homeworld, was covered in high grass and patches of thick brush. The mountains, which had appeared red from orbit, weren’t yet visible in the pre-dawn twilight.

There was no denying the alienness of this world. From the large double moons and the strange constellations to the thick, musty scent of the air, the inescapable sense of otherness seemed to permeate everything. It set Khalil on edge almost as much as Cernovich’s driving.

The rover hit an unusually large bump, and the resulting bounce nearly flung his gunner, Private Vance, into the air. A chorus of angry profanity was the predictable result.

“Dammit, Andre, you drive worse than my drunk grandma!”

“Stay frosty,” Khalil ordered, scanning the horizon with his heat sensors. The wheels of the rover cut through the grass like a hot knife through butter, and the dry, dusty air blasted Khalil’s face. The landscape was so full of life, it was difficult to tell which targets were harmless and which posed a potential threat.

As they rounded a large rocky outcropping, a swarm of enormous insects took to the air. Vance immediately opened fire. The crack of laser fire mingled with a shout of surprise, which gave way to whoops of victory as dozens of the bugs exploded in a shower of splattered guts.

“Hold your fire,” Khalil ordered. “It’s just the native wildlife.”

“Damn, Kali. Did you see the size of those things?”

“Get used to it, private.”

He glanced up at the trigger-happy teenage marine. Khalil was barely eighteen Terran years himself, which still put him ahead of most of the soldiers under his command. Any older, and the forty years of crysostasis they’d undertook to get here would have significantly reduced his probability of surviving the voyage. Even the main force, which was still on the outskirts of the system, was staffed almost exclusively by teenagers.

Unlike most of them, though, Khalil had never had the luxury of a childhood. His parents were refugees twice over: first from Iraq, and then from Earth. Khalil had never been to his family’s ancestral homeland, but he did have memories of their Syriac Orthodox Church in Los Angelos burning as the Sharia police looked on.

He drew a sharp breath and put such thoughts from his mind, refocusing on the mission.

“There, Cernovich,” he said, pointing to a spot on the map near Sergeant Peters’s current positon. “Drop us off there.”

“Got it.”

A few minutes later, Cernovich brought the rover to a stop behind a small hill. Khalil checked his rifle and dismounted with Vance and Cernovich. Tensions were high, but none of them said a word as they took up positions in the waist-deep grass and prepared to move out. Khalil checked his earpiece.

“Are you there, Lieutenant?”

Sergeant Peters’s voice sounded uncannily loud in Khalil’s ear, now that they’d left the rover. Even the buzzing of the native insects seemed quieter.

“We’re here, Peters. Where are the others?”

“Spread out to the east of the target, with a good overlook position on the right. Hold your position; we’ll come to you.”

“I copy.”

A few moments later, Sergeant Peters materialized from the shadows with Specialists Mikhailov and Martinek. Green and black streaks of face paint covered their faces, making effective camouflage in the high grass. Peters was the taller one.

“What have we got?” Khalil asked quietly.

“It’s the scientists, all right. The dome gives it away. Gilbert and Baier are in position on our right flanks, with Matheson on our left and Ahiga on the far side of the compound.”

“Good work,” Khalil praised his noncom. “Got a vantage point?”

“Right this way.”

He followed his sergeant into the high grass, switching his goggles from infrared to heat signatures. Almost immediately, he could make out the rest of the platoon. They had spread out over a distance of almost a hundred yards, some of them prone, others creeping forward.

Up ahead, on the other side of the rise, he made out structures. Most of them were made of clay and native mud, and still radiated traces of heat from the previous day. A couple of them were dome-shaped, though, and clearly not made from native material.

“How long have you been monitoring this compound?” Khalil asked quietly.

“Only since we arrived. Should we wait until daylight, or move in now?”

Khalil looked skyward, as if to seek out their eyes in orbit. If they’d deployed their probes first instead of sending out the marines, his men might have had advance notice of this compound. Then again, with a mysterious alien structure towering above what appeared to be an otherwise virgin planet, he couldn’t blame his superior officers for wanting to establish a beachhead first. Speed, not stealth, was their chief advantage now.

“Move in,” he said softly. Peters nodded and made a quick cutting motion with his hand. All around them, the marines moved quietly forward as they began to converge on the compound.

WIP excerpt: Edenfall

I’m a little less than halfway done with Edenfall, so I figure it would be good to share a couple of excerpts with you. If all goes well, it should be out by September.

As a reminder, this is the sequel to my first novel, Genesis Earth, so you may see a couple of familiar characters in this excerpt, which is taken from the first chapter. I’ve already got plans for the third book, and will hopefully complete the trilogy by the end of the year.

Enjoy!

The boulder felt rough and warm under Estee’s bare feet, the hot air dusty and dry. She scrambled up its face, laughing as her little sister struggled to keep up.

“Slow down!” Celeste cried. She lost her footing and began to slip. “Help!”

Estee turned around and dropped to her stomach. A warm breeze tousled her hair as sweat ran down the side of her face. With the grainy sandstone hot against her skin, she caught Celeste and pulled her up.

“You’re okay. Come on!”

Celeste’s face was pale, but she recovered quickly. Together, they stood atop the massive boulder, panting to catch their breath.

“Race you to the next one!”

In an instant, Estee was off, laughing at her sister’s cry of dismay. Thankfully, the next boulder wasn’t so hard. She panted for breath as she scrambled up it with Celeste following closely behind, her terror forgotten as she struggled to keep up. In less than a minute, they had both conquered the rock.

From the top, they had a majestic view of the wide, golden-green savannah and the tabletop mountains all along the horizon.

“It’s hot,” Celeste complained.

“Here,” said Estee, leading her to the northward facing side. “It’s not so bad over here.”

They both laid down with their backs against the slickrock. Estee closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the sun warming her dust-caked skin and drying the beads of sweat on her forehead. It was wonderful.

“Hey, look!”

She opened her eyes and looked where Celeste was pointing, in the direction of the beanstalk. A thin, familiar line rose from the ruins of the ancient ones into the blue sky, disappearing high above the clouds. But the thing that caught Estee’s attention was a point of light, shining like a star where the beanstalk disappeared from view.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Celeste. “Look, it’s moving.”

Indeed it was. A light breeze whistled around the boulders as the star drifted soundlessly toward the south. Estee rose to her feet, shielding her eyes with her hand as she traced its curious progress across the sky. Beside her, Celeste stood up as well.

“Is it a falling star?” Celeste asked.

Estee didn’t think so. Falling stars only happened at night, and they usually flickered out in the blink of an eye. Mama liked to study them. She always knew when the best times were to look for them, and sometimes took Estee out with her to see. Mama and Papa both knew a lot about stars, because that was where they’d come from. But Estee had never seen anything like this.

“Is it?” Celeste repeated.

“I told you, I don’t know.”

“Where is going?”

The star grew brighter as it moved closer to the horizon, leaving a bright yellow streak. It was falling to the east, past the village of the little people. Estee thought it would pass out of view beyond the tabletop mountains, but then it turned abruptly north. Falling stars never did that.

“Look!” said Celeste. “It’s making a cloud!”

Sure enough, a thin whispy cloud cut a line in the star’s wake. It reminded Estee of the smoke from a candle. As the star dipped lower, it passed in front of the tabletop mountains and alighted in the nearby foothills. A shiver of excitement ran down Estee’s spine.

“Come on—let’s go!”

“No,” Celeste protested. “It’s too far away.”

“Don’t you want to find it, though?”

“The daylight is fading. We’ll get in trouble.”

Estee groaned, but her sister was right. Besides, Mama wanted them back before dark, and the sun was already starting to get low.

“Race you home. Last one back is a lazy sun-dragon!”

“Hey!” Celeste cried as Estee scampered down the boulder. “Wait for me!”

The high grass tickled Estee’s legs as she ran across the plains. Fine, red dust caked her sweaty skin, but she ran until her lungs burned and her heart pounded, simply for the joy of it. She startled a swarm of leaping locusts grazing nearby, and shrieked in surprise as they leaped high above her, rattling their wings as they sought somewhere more peaceful to graze.

“Celeste! Where are you?”

“Back here!” her sister called.

“Well hurry up!”

By the time they made it back, the beanstalk was already beginning to shimmer in the light of the setting sun. Smoke had started to rise from the adobe oven—that meant Mama was cooking, which meant that they were late.

“Oh, dungheaps,” Estee swore.

Celeste ran up beside her, still out of breath. “What?” she asked—then, noticing the smoke, “Oh.”

“Come on,” said Estee, “let’s go to Papa’s workshop.” If they came in with Papa, then maybe Mama would think they’d been with him the whole time. Papa was always late.

They snuck as quietly as they could out through the hedgerow gate, making a wide circle until they reached Papa’s workshop about fifty yards away. The thatchwork patches in the plasteel dome roof waved in the afternoon breeze.

Five of the little people rose to their feet as Estee and Celeste rounded the corner. Two of them rose swiftly to their feet, brandishing spears, but their leader scolded them and they stepped aside.

“That’s right,” said Estee, holding her palms outstretched. “It’s just us. No need to fear.”

The leader was one of the chiefs of the little people, his rich orange mane bearing jewelry carved from bone. Estee squatted so as not to seem taller than him. In just the last year, she’d grown so much that all but the strongest hunters were shorter than her. She still hadn’t gotten used to that.

The chief stepped forward and put his hand on Estee’s chest in a gesture of peace. She did the same, leaning forward so that they stood cheek to cheek. His furry skin was hard and tough, his mane so long that it tickled her arm. They both took a deep breath together, and the scent of sweat and musk filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes and let it seep into her, until his heartbeat echoed hers.

Opening her eyes, she stepped back to let Celeste greet the chief in like manner while the others stood back. It wasn’t every day that they met the little people like this, but it happened often enough that they both knew what to do.

Satisfied, the little people bowed and let them pass. Estee knocked once, then parted the heavy rug door and stepped inside.

“Papa?” she called. The workshop was brightly lit. Bottles of various chemicals sat on the counter among baskets of dried leaves and flowers. Papa was on the far side of the room, next to the operating table.

“Shh,” said Papa, gesturing for them to stay quiet.

The two girls crept forward to watch. One of the women of the little people sat on the operating table, trembling with fear. She held an infant child on her chest, limp and unconsious.

Papa rinsed off a bloody pair of tweezers in the sink, then returned to the mother and child. “There, there,” he whispered. “Just one more—got it!” From the baby’s leg, he pulled out a black sliver as long as Estee’s pinky finger and dropped it into a nearby bowl.

“Gauze,” he ordered without looking up from his work. Estee rushed to assist him. After carefully cleaning the wound, he applied an herbal dressing before taking the offered gauze and wrapping it around the baby’s leg. “That should help with the infection,” he muttered, then held up one of the smelling salts to the baby’s nose until it began to whimper and cry. The mother clutched her baby to her chest and jumped off the table, rushing out the door to her waiting companions.

“What was that?” asked Celeste.

“Just a splinter,” said Papa. “But they didn’t come to me until the infection had already set in.” He emptied the wash basin and scrubbed his hands with soap and pumice.

“Why?” Estee asked.

“Because they were afraid. They see us as gods, you know. Because we came from the sky.”

“We didn’t,” Celeste said, pointing to Estee and herself.

“But you are our children,” said Papa. “And in their eyes, that makes you gods like us.”

“But why does that make them afraid of us?” Estee asked.

Papa smiled. “Let’s go see what your mama is cooking, shall we?”

“Yeah,” said Celeste. “Let’s go!”

Estee groaned. She hated it when he ended their conversations without giving her a clear answer. Recently, it seemed he did that more and more often. It was especially bad when she asked if Mama would have another baby. Hermes had already seen his first winter.

They followed Papa outside, squinting in the evening sun. Mama was waiting for them at the door of the hut, arms folded across her chest.

“You were out late,” she said, looking Estee in the eye.

“No we weren’t,” Estee lied. “We were with Papa in the workshop.”

“Were you?”

She fidgeted under Mama’s knowing glare. “No,” she admitted. “But we didn’t stay out that long—and we didn’t go far.”

“Yeah,” said Celeste, backing her up.

Papa gave Mama a kiss. “Evening, dear. You look gorgeous.”

“And you look exhausted,” she answered him back. Still, she smiled and ran her fingers through his hair.

Estee rolled her eyes. “Come on! Are we going to eat or what?”

“Hold on, you ravening locust,” said Mama. “We’ll eat soon enough.”

WIP excerpt: Gunslinger to Earth

Chapter One: Back to the Academy

My name is Rex Carter, and I am—or rather, was—from Earth.

I don’t blame you for not believing me. If I hadn’t experienced firsthand the events of my own life, I would be skeptical as well. But I assure you, my story is true. The legends of humanity’s lost homeworld are, for the most part, based in fact. Sol was indeed the cradle of the human race, not Sirius or Aldebaran or any of the nearby stars. The xenologists’ main criticism of Sol, that it lacks a habitable-zone planet, are moot because the world they are looking for—Earth—no longer exists in our plane of reality.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Rex Carter, and I was born on Earth only a few years after humanity made contact with the galactics. As a young man, I played a key role in…

[SPOILERS REDACTED]

…so I enrolled at Earthfleet Academy a year earlier than most of my peers. If I had to attend school, I was determined to get it over with as quickly as possible so as to get back to the business of having adventures.

Little did I know, adventure would soon find me.

Earth had a single large moon, which we called Luna. It was gray and rocky, with one-sixth the gravity of Earth, and no atmosphere. It was also the location of Earthfleet Academy. After a week-long break to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday with my parents down on Earth, I grudgingly returned to my studies at the Academy.

“Hey, Rex,” my roommate Frank greeted me as I entered our dorm room.

I dropped my duffel bag at the foot of my bed and flung myself onto the mattress. Earthfleet Academy had its own artificial gravity to compensate for Luna’s, so it felt very much as if I’d never left Earth. The fact that I’d taken a teleporter back contributed greatly to the illusion.

None of which improved my mood.

The dorm room was clean and Spartanly decorated, as you would expect from a military academy. Frank lay back against his pillow with his laptop on his chest, playing some game or chatting online with some friends back on Earth. Quite possibly both.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, giving me a lopsided grin.

I rolled my eyes. “More than I missed this place, that’s for sure.”

“Oh come on. The academy’s not so bad. Besides,” he said, giving me a knowing look, “you-know-who is back from Antarctica.”

Blood rushed to my cheeks. He was talking about Charlotte Bujold, the girl I’d been crushing on since my first semester. I regretted having ever confided that to him.

“She is?” I asked in spite of myself.

“Yeah,” said Frank. “Came back just yesterdayshift. I was going to tell her that you were coming back early too, but—”

“Dammit, Frank. Please tell me you didn’t say that.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, my friend. I’m just teasing.”

I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in my pillow. I’d navigated my brother-in-law’s starship through space battles and war zones, and traveled far beyond the Gliese colonies of Earthspace, but girls like Charlotte still made my knees go weak and my tongue stammer. What can I say? I was still young.

“To be honest,” Frank continued, “I think Antarctica may have actually thawed the cockles of her cold little heart. She gave me a smile as we passed in the hall this morning. Didn’t say anything, but she smiled. I don’t think she has anything planned before classes start on Monday. If you’re going to ask her out—”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious. Now’s as good a time as any. What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing,” I said sullenly, burying my face even deeper. Of course, that was a lie.

“Dude,” said Frank. He set his laptop aside and turned to face me. “If you like this girl, man up and ask her out. Nothing’s going to happen unless you take the first step.”

I said nothing. This dissuaded him not at all.

“Seriously. You’re not going to get a better chance than now. Once classes start up again, we’ll all be swamped from now until Christmas. She’s sure to leave Sol for the holidays, and—”

“I get the picture,” I said, cutting him off. “What do you suggest?”

Frank sat up, his grin as lopsided as ever, and rubbed his hands together as if he were starting a project. My heart both sank and skipped a beat at the same time.

About half an hour later, not quite sure how I got there, I found myself on a tram to the Earthfleet Academy library. Charlotte’s roommates had told me she was probably there when I’d checked at her dorm. They’d asked if I wanted to leave a message, but I’d blushed, mumbled something incomprehensible, and gotten out of there as fast as if one of them had thrown a live grenade.

The main campus of Earthfleet Academy sprawled out leisurely across the mare, or lunar plain. Since it was cheaper to maintain a lot of small but interconnected artificial gravity fields than to put everything under one giant dome, all of the various buildings were connected by trams. The library was on the other side of campus from the dorms, not far from the spaceport and Earthfleet headquarters itself.

It was currently night on the moon, and the Earth hung like a brilliant blue-green marble in an otherwise dark sky. Swirls and streaks of bright white clouds covered its surface. The tram was mostly empty, so I had the view almost entirely to myself.

“Phoenix Tanner from Earthfleet News,” the announcer on the radio stated, briefly interrupting my nervous thoughts. “Tensions remain high at New Australia as the Earthfleet task force headed by Field Admiral Cox refused to lift the military quarantine of the system. The two civilian ships detained by the task force remain under Earthfleet control, and repeated requests by the colonial authorities to release the crew have been denied. For the last several months, the president of New Australia has defied the Grand Council of Earth’s ban on the immortality serum to treat children suffering from chronic illnesses, while medical authorities on Earth insist that there are safe, legal ways to address the colony’s medical needs. In other news…”

My mind drifted as the news droned on. The only reason I’d picked up that first story was because Charlotte was from New Australia. A little less than half of the students at the academy were from the colonies. Sam Kletchka, my brother-in-law, had attended for a year before dropping out. If he hadn’t insisted that I finish my studies first, I would have already dropped out and joined his crew.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I probably would have stayed on a couple more months, just to see how things worked out with Charlotte. But the moment she rejected me, as I inwardly dreaded she would, I would have been out of there.

The tram came to a stop, and the doors slid open. I walked out on watery legs. The library was a big place, even for Luna’s standards, but I had a pretty good idea where to find her. Sure enough, she was studying at a cubby on the library’s top floor. I’d seen her in the same general vicinity several times in the previous semester—not that I was stalking her, of course. Her attention was focused on her tablet, with headphones in her ears in a way that said “do not disturb.”

Allow me to take a moment to describe just how gorgeous Charlotte is. Thin and petite, with hourglass proportions and a narrow waist, her eyes are a piercing blue and her hair is as black as midnight. It was cut just above her shoulders, so it bobbed and swung with every move of her head. Her face was long, her lips red and moist, her nose small and slightly upturned. It was the fire in her eyes, though, that really got to me. She may have been small, but she was full of energy and passion, and a hell of a lot stronger than she looked.

With all that said, you can understand why I was intimidated. The moment I saw her, I ducked behind a nearby bookshelf and spent the next few minutes working up the nerve to talk to her. Heart pounding and legs weak, I eventually decided to hell with it and walked over.

“H-hi Charlotte.”

She glanced up at me with a look of contempt normally reserved for strangers. Seeing that I wanted to talk, she reluctantly pulled the headphones out of her ears.

“What do you want, Rex?”

“I, uh, I heard you just came back from b-break,” I stammered. “Your roommates said I might find you here.”

She stared at me evenly, betraying no reaction. I inwardly flagellated myself.

“So, uh, we have a few days before classes start, and I was wondering, uh, if maybe, uh, you wanted to get lunch or something?”

She blinked. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “Food court, student center, tomorrow at noon. What do you say?”

From the expression on her face, it looked like my attempt at asking her out had just crashed and burned. My heart sank. If falling through the floor was an option, I probably would have taken it.

“I’ll let you know,” she said, slipping her headphones back over her ears as she turned back to her tablet.

“Uh, thanks,” I stammered.

She glanced up one last time, as if to ask why I was still there. I beat a hasty retreat, tail tucked firmly between my legs, and silently cursed myself with every bad word in my vocabulary.

I felt six inches shorter. I felt like I’d forgotten to put on pants this morning.

I felt like a fool.

Our encounter had lasted mere seconds, and yet as I walked in a daze back to the tram, I couldn’t help but dissect and analyze every moment of it. Charlotte’s icy gaze. My own nervous stammering. Her utterly unreadable face. The longer I thought about it, the more convinced I became that I’d made an utter fool of myself. Frank was wrong: asking her out in person had been a collossal mistake. Any hope I had of dating her was over.

As the empty tram took off again, I stared up at Earth, wondering what the hell I was doing with my life. I didn’t care about Earthfleet. I didn’t care about my studies. I did care about Charlotte, but that was all in the toilet now, thanks to the fool I’d made of myself.

That was when my phone buzzed.

I frowned and pulled it out of my pocket. It was a text—from Charlotte. My heart skipped a beat, and for a very brief moment I hesitated, fearing to read it. But curiosity soon got the better of me.

Food court tomorrow at noon. I’ll be there.

A boyish grin spread across my face as I pocketed my phone, and with no one else on the tram I pumped my fist and shouted “yes!”

Maybe it hadn’t gone as badly as I’d thought back in the library. Maybe she didn’t think I was a fool. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance things could work out with Charlotte and me.

As I was soon about to learn, I had no idea what I was in for.

WIP excerpt: Gunslinger to the Galaxy

Gunslinger to the Galaxy

Phase:1.0 Draft

100%

MyBookProgress by Author Media

I’m happily at work on Gunslinger to the Galaxy right now, just coming up on the halfway mark. With my new writing process, I make all the revisions as I go along, which means that the first chapter is more or less in a presentable state.

(As a side note, someday, I should do a blog post on my new writing process, because it’s radically different from the way I used to do it. Still got to work out some kinks, which I’m doing right now with Gunslinger to the Galaxy, but once I’ve got it down I should be able to produce publishable books on the first draft, in only a few weeks, as opposed to taking multiple drafts over the course of several years. Exciting stuff.)

In any case, here’s an excerpt from the first chapter. Enjoy!

In Which My Dear Husband and I Return to Earth

My name is Jane Kletchka, and I’m here to set the record straight.

By now, you’ve already heard my dear husband’s account of the Gorinal incident: how we were stranded in the armpit of the galaxy when the Gorinal jumpgate went down, how we both got caught up in an outcast Immortal’s million-year vendetta, and how together we thwarted it and stopped the galaxy from falling into a civilization-ending war. If only we’d known what we’d unleashed by doing so.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. As I’ve already said, my name is Jane Kletchka. I graduated summa cum laude from Earthfleet Academy with a double major in xenolinguistics and history. My parents urged me to pursue a graduate degree planetside, but I took the path less traveled and became a freelance xenologist. After gazing down on Earth from Luna for so long, it just didn’t make sense to clip my wings for another four years. I figured I’d spend a few years traveling the galaxy, do my part for intergalactic peace, then come back, find a nice Mormon boy, and settle down to raise a family.

Instead, I found my dear husband on the far side of the galaxy. If you’d told me only a year before that I’d marry a gunslinging mercenary, I would have laughed in your face. But so it was. Needless to say, settling down wasn’t in the cards anytime soon.

Still, as an old-fashioned Earth girl, I insisted on introducing him to my parents. So once our work at Gorinal Prime was complete, we set the Star Runner on a course for Sol.

* * * * *

“Sixteen days,” said Sam, shaking his head in disbelief. “Can you believe it? Sixteen f—”

“Ah ah,” I said, stopping him before he could swear. I love my dear husband, but he has a tongue as wild as the colony of New Texas where he was born.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, putting an arm around my waist. I tousled his dirty blond hair and glanced out the cockpit window at the starry warp-bubble that surrounded our ship.

“How long did it take when you first left Earth space?” I asked.

“Ten freaking months,” he said, catching himself. “Took a third-class berth on a Hyadian star crawler headed straight for Aldebaran, and by the end I was so bored I half-considered shooting myself for the diversion.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I said, stroking his back with my fingertips.

Down by my legs, a calico cat meowed. The Star Runner is a cozy little ship, designed for a crew of two with room for only one passenger. That was why Imutab had taken her cat form. A shapeshifter empath from the Silver Diadem, she’d signed on with us shortly after the Gorinal incident. As newlyweds, we didn’t mind her, so long as she was discreet.

“Uh, Jane,” said Tarak from the copilot’s chair. “Sam’s thinking about—”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Unfortunately, “discreet” does not accurately describe Sam’s copilot and first mate. Tarak is a Myadian, a race from the Scutum-Crux arm of the galaxy. They look a bit like hairless satyrs. Being telepaths, others tend to distrust them, so they mostly keep to their own kind. Tarak fell out with his clan, making him doubly the misfit. He’s a good person, though. It took a while for Sam to come around to him, but even he had to admit that it can be useful to have a telepath as your first mate, no matter how awkward or annoying he can be.

I leaned over and gave my dear husband a rather lengthy kiss. Imutab purred contentedly, while Tarak thankfully refrained from any more unwanted commentary. A cozy ship like the Star Runner makes everyone feel close.

“Let’s come out of warp before we’re inside Luna’s orbit,” I said. “I want to let my parents know we’re coming.”

“Sure thing, honey. We’re in no rush.”

“Also, I’m sure that Earthfleet will want to debrief us.”

“Debrief?” he said, frowning, “Honey, we’re private citizens.”

“Private citizens with a warship and a letter of marque and reprisal that goes straight to the top of Earthfleet itself. Or have you already forgotten all the upgrades we got from the EFS Auriga?”

“Don’t tell me you never dreamed about marrying a pirate.”

“Actually,” Tarak interjected, “Jane never—”

“That’s enough, Tarak,” I said, leaning over to give my dear husband another kiss. Imutab’s purring grew louder.

* * * * *

Returning to Sol was the easy part. Getting to Earth was much harder.

First, we had to get permission from Earthfleet to approach the planet itself. The Star Runner was originally a Setarni ship, which meant that the authorities didn’t recognize us as human at first. Even after we showed them the letter of marque and reprisal, they still insisted on an escort—for our “convenience.”

At least the debriefing was relatively painless. Since we fell in a category somewhere between mercenaries and pirates, they moved us along as quickly as possible. The same can’t be said of the authorities at Earth.

I won’t bore you with all the catch-22s of the bureaucratic nightmare we had to endure just to set foot on our beloved homeworld. Since since Sam had lost his passport and Earthfleet didn’t officially recognize us, we spent almost thirty-six hours waiting on a temproary ID from the colonial consulate. When the customs agents found out about Sam’s numerous firearms, they tried to force him to register them all, which threw him into a fit. I can’t remember how I managed to smooth that one out.

Eventually, we worked out an arrangement that left the Star Runner in high orbit, technically still in Earthfleet’s jurisdiction, and agreed to teleport onto the main spaceport for a shuttle to the surface.

“I don’t see why we need a shuttle when we’ve got line of sight to the surface,” Sam muttered as we made the final preparations for our departure.

“Because the only place we can register is on the spaceport,” I told him. “If the authorities pull us over when we’re planetside, and we haven’t—”

“I know, I know.”

I gave him a quick kiss, which seemed to help. Tarak keyed the teleporter, and the next we knew, we were surrounded in a conduit of shimmering blue light.

Teleporting is never a pleasant experience, but I take to it better than Sam does. As the light dissipated to reveal the spaceport concourse’s teleport pad, he made a face like he’d swallowed his own vomit. Thankfully, that was the worst of it.

The first thing about the spaceport that stood out to me was the sheer number of humans that filled the place. There were very few aliens in the crowd, and most of those were Hyadians. After spending so much time on the far side of the galaxy, it felt weird to be surrounded by people who look just like me. The second thing that stood out was just how crowded the spaceport was. Between the teleport receiving pads and the security checkpoint, people were packed almost shoulder to shoulder.

A haggard security officer with a permanent frown and bags under her eyes ushered us off of the platform. “This way down, this way down,” she said with practiced monotony. “The checkpoint is directly ahead, on the right.”

I’ve never seen Sam so tense outside of a combat situation. I took his hand.

We passed through the security scanners without incident. There was some confusion on the other side when the officer failed to locate his ID implants, but the documents from the consulate checked out and we proceeded to customs and registration.

Here, we were not so lucky. The customs officer refused to recognize Sam’s documents and called up his supervisor, who detained us for questioning. I rubbed my dear husband’s back and ignored his muttered cursing as we waited in the windowless interrogation room.

At length, the door swung open. “Greetings,” said a short man with brown skin and slanted eyes. His navy-blue uniform was wrinkled but clean.

Sam said nothing, so I smiled and offered my hand.

“Hi.”

He pointedly ignored my gesture and took a seat across from us.

“Your documents show that you are Sam and Jane Kletchka, from New Texas.”

“From Earth,” I corrected. “Sam is from New Texas, I’m from Earth.”

“Yes,” the officer muttered, checking his tablet. “Your ID checks out, miss Jane Elizabeth Carter. However, we have no record of marriage to a Mister Sam Kletchka.”

“Our marriage was performed at Gorinal Prime by Captain Isiatuk of the Silver Diadem,” Sam told him calmly.

The officer frowned. “Gorinal Prime? That doesn’t sound familiar.”

“It’s in the Scutum-Crux Arm,” I explained. When that failed to register a response, I added: “Of the galaxy.”

“Ah,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I take it that isn’t in Earthspace?”

My dear husband frowned so deeply that his mouth disappeared into his beard. Things didn’t get any better from there.

I’ll spare you a blow-by-blow. Once again, the colonial consulate had to smooth things over, and we very nearly spent a night on those hard plastic seats in the interrogation room.

Eventually, though, we boarded a planetside ferry shuttle. Exhausted from the ordeal, we did so without a word, joining the mass of other zombie-like travelers who crowded the aging shuttlecraft like so many human sardines.

WIP excerpt: A Queen in Hiding

The arrival of the starfarer caused stirred a great deal of excitement at Little Gaia. Eve couldn’t remember the last time a man from the stars had visited their humble space station. As one of the few unmarried and eligible girls, she took extra notice of the rumors.

Old bald Thomas, the station’s geneticist, said that the starfarer’s arrival was a miracle. His wife Ethel was the matchmaker, and together they did more to determine the fate of the colonists’ lives than even the station master himself. They were the ones behind every betrothal and wedding. They were the ones with veto power over any proposed marriage. Before she could even walk, the course of Eva’s life had already been set, with her choice of suitable husband reduced to only three. Two of them were already married men more than twelve years her senior, and the last was a childhood friend that she would almost certainly have to share.

So when the mysterious starfarer declared his intention to settle down permanently, it provoked no small stir of commotion.

Almost at once, Eve’s life began to turn upside down. Ethel and old bald Tom immediately selected three young women for the starfarer, but the first of them refused. Predictably, this outraged old bald Tom, causing a small scandal.

“I hope you won’t be so obstinate,” he told Eve privately. “It’s been almost a generation since we had an opportunity like this. Without new blood, our colony is doomed to perish.”

“Don’t worry,” she reassured him. “I’m happy to wed the starfarer.”

“Good. And I hope your union will be blessed with many children. Stars know that’s what we need.”

The second woman was Astrid. She was only two years older than Eve, though growing up, they had never been more than friendly acquaintances. Eve had never expected to share a husband with Astrid, so she had never made a special effort to be close to her. Now, all that had suddenly changed.

Astrid reached out to her first, shortly after the engagements had been arranged. They met privately in Eve’s family apartments, the stars spinning silently through the windows underfoot.

“I sincerely hope you harbor no hard feelings for me,” said Astrid. “Please know that I have none against you.”

Eve smiled and gave her future sister wife a reassuring hug. “Of course I don’t, Astrid. I always expected to share a husband.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

Astrid’s grandfather had been a star wanderer from beyond the Good Hope Nebula, giving her some of the best genetics in the colony. From the way she had kept herself aloof in her earlier years, Eve had always assumed that she held this above everyone else. The desperation in Astrid’s voice surprised her.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.

“Certainly, Eve.”

“Why choose to marry the star wanderer? With your gentics, you could have your pick of almost any boy on the station. Why him?”

Astrid swallowed. “If you’re asking why you have to share him with me, I—”

“No, no, not at all,” said Eve, putting her hand on Astrid’s arm. “Please don’t take it that way.”

The moment passed awkwardly. Astrid smiled, but the tension still hung in the air.

“There’s more to matchmaking than genetics,” Astrid said at length. She didn’t offer any more of an explanation, and Eve didn’t push her for one. They spent the next two hours talking to each other, and by the end, they were much closer than before. But still, the unspoken questions hung over them like something rotting in the bulkheads.

Before the marriages could be solemnized, the laws of Little Gaia stated that the betrothed must be given an hour alone together, in total privacy without any outside interference. Afterwards, if either of them desired to cancel their vows for any reason or none at all, it was their legal and moral right to do so. Of course, Astrid and Eve weren’t to go in to the star wanderer together. Each would have their hour alone with him.

Astrid went first. The station master’s office was the designated room, since it was one of the few living areas on the station with soundproof bulkheads. She wore her finest red silk dress, handed down as an heirloom from her grandmother, with a silver girdle inlaid with opals. Eve didn’t have anything nearly so fine.

The hour passed like a neverending eternity. Eve sat outside the office, her emotions vacillating from fear to impatience and back again. She’d heard stories about what couples did in their alloted time alone together, up to and including sex. Things that wouldn’t otherwise be permitted were fair game, since no one would ever have to know.

The hour finally passed. Eve stood breathlessly at the door, waiting for Astrid to emerge. When another full minute passed without any indication from inside, Eve wondered if perhaps she should knock. But before she could, the door slid open and Astrid stepped out.

“Well?” said Eve, her heart pounding nervously.

Astrid stared off as if distracted by something down the hall. Her hair was a little messier than it had been before she’d entered, and her dress was wrinkled ever so slightly. Eve’s gut began to clench.

“Astrid?”

“Oh,” said Astrid, suddenly noticing her. She gave her a smile, which Eve weakly returned.

“Well?”

“Eve, your face is pale. Are you all right?”

I could ask the same of you, Eve thought silently. She shook her head and looked away.

“I’m fine.”

“That’s good.”

An awkward moment of silence passed. There were a thousand questions Eve wanted to ask, but none of them seemed appropriate, and Astrid wasn’t volunteering any answers. In fact, she went right back to staring off at the distance, as if Eve weren’t even there.

“Well,” Eve said at length, “I guess I’d better go.”

“Wait.”

Astrid lay her hands on Eve’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. Her expression was suddenly serious. A chill ran down Eve’s back.

“What is it?”

“Tomas, our future husband, he’s—how do you say?—a telepath.”

She frowned. “A telepath?”

“Yes. Not just him, either. He’s one of many, and now I—I don’t know how to put it. But if you don’t want to go in to him, that’s okay.”

She gently took Astrid’s hands and eased them off of her shoulders.

“Please don’t scare me like this, Astrid.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to—honest.”

“Is he… dangerous?”

“What?” Astrid laughed. “No, of course not. Well, he did used to be a pirate, but those days are behind him now. He just wants to settle down.”

How do you know so much about him?

“Eve,” said Astrid, putting a hand on her arm. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Then why did you say it was okay if I didn’t want to go in?”

“Forgive me. What I meant is that you don’t have to let him read your mind. If you do, you won’t ever be the same.”

Her words were not reassuring in the least. By now, Eve’s heart was pounding something awful. But she swallowed and nodded, steeling her nerves.

“Thank you, Astrid. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Spontaneously, Astrid gave her a hug. It was one of the most open and honest hugs that Eve had ever received. They held each other for several moments, Eve’s nervous heart still fluttering.

The station master’s office was one of the most richly furnished rooms on the station. An ornate blue and gold rug graced the floor, the geometric design breathtaking in its detail. The table that sat in the center was made from authentic wood, its legs gilded with gold. Hand-woven and highly stylized tapestries depicted the history of the small colony from its founding nearly ten generations ago. Plush, oversized divans ringed the walls, with dozens of tasseled pillows strewn about for additional comfort.

The star wanderer sat on the far side of the room, his arms resting comfortably along the back of the divan. He was healthy and young, with a head of thick brown hair and a trim, attractive figure. The moment his eyes laid hold of her, they never left. Eve stared at the floor demurely, unsure whether to sit across from him or on the same divan.

He gestured for her to join him, which shattered her indecision. Still, her heart pounded as she sat with her knees close together, only an arm’s breadth away. She looked up at him expectantly, but he did nothing to break the silence.

His gaze, for all its intensity, was surprisingly gentle. As she looked into his eyes, she realized there was no need to feel threatened by him at all. His clothes were foreign but simple, a gray uniform shirt that bore no isnignia with a synthleather jacket that had seen considerable wear. They gave him a roguish appearance that only increased his allure.

Should I say something? Eve wondered as the silence rapidly became unbearable. She remembered what Astrid had said about him being a telepath. Was he reading her thoughts even now? If so, what did he think of her.

He leaned forward and put a hand on her knee. A thrill of excitement shot through her body at his touch.

“Hello, Eve,” he said, his eyes never leaving her. “My name is Tomas. Astrid told you about me, didn’t she?”

Eve’s eyes widened. “You—how can you—I thought you couldn’t speak our language.”

“I can, with Astrid’s help. She’s shown me much about your people. I hope that in time, you can show me much about yourself as well.”

He spoke slowly and carefully formed his words, but there was no doubt that he understood them. Eve cleared her throat and sat up straight, her hands in her lap.

“What would you like to know?”

He withdrew his hand from her. “Do you fear me, Eve?”

“No. I’m… just a little nervous, is all.”

“That’s understandable. Things always move quickly when a star wanderer settles down. I take it you didn’t expect to be marrying one?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I’m looking forward to it.”

“As am I.”

He leaned back and crossed his legs. “Astrid told you that I’m a telepath?”

“She mentioned it, yes.”

“Would you like to be one, too?”

Eve paused. “What do you mean?”

He held out his hand toward her. As she watched, a faint blue light traveled up his arm, growing brighter until it reached his palm. She realized that he was offering it to her.

“There is much that I can show you, Eve. But if we are to join minds, it must be your choice, not mine.”

She swallowed, unsure what to do. Astrid’s words came back to her, about how she would never be the same once she let him into her mind. But if they were to be married, wasn’t she supposed to give herself to him anyway? She’d never heard of anything like this, but it didn’t seem too much to ask.

Tentatively, she reached out her hand. As their fingertips touched, the pulse of light ran across her skin, sending chills in its wake. She withdrew and shut her eyes as it passed all the way to her heart.

A sudden wave of dizziness made her head spin. Though her eyes were closed, she could clearly see the station master’s office with all of its furnishings. Except it wasn’t the starfarer she saw seated on the divan. It was her.

She opened her eyes with a start. Now she was looking at Tomas again, but she could still see herself through his eyes. She could also see the hallway outside, where Astrid was waiting for her. That wasn’t all. Other images swam before her, of places she didn’t recognize—places she had never been. There was a dark, bare room with bars around the door like a prison, and a spaceous mausoleum with large, windowed coffins lining all the walls. She saw them as clearly as if with her own eyes.

“Take a deep breath,” Tomas advised her. “Put everything to the back of your mind except what you can see with your own eyes.”

She did as he told her, and the dizziness soon passed. At the same time, she felt a whole host of thoughts and emotions, none of which were hers. The cacophony in her mind was deafening, and she soon felt overwhelmed.

That was when the voice of the mother-queen spoke.

Be at peace, Eve. You are among friends.

The voice instantly brought calm to the chaos. It was quiet and still, yet it had a commanding presence that dispelled her confusion and fear. She saw, as if in a dream, a young woman whose body was covered in tattoos. The woman looked straight at her, and she realized it was no dream.

I am Reva, the mother-queen. I am in you, and you are in me. My voice brings peace to the chaos, and light to the children of the stars.

What is this?

You are one of us now, Eve. Your mind is melded to ours.

She instinctively reached out to Tomas, who put a hand on her shoulder. His touch was another point of familiarity that provided an anchor to her. She looked at him, and realized that he could read all her thoughts.

“What is this?”

“It’s a long story,” he began.

In the blink of an eye, his life’s history flashed before her mind. A modest childhood, on a colony much like her own. His departure on his father’s starship, full of excitement for the future. His first year as a starfarer, struggling to make it on his own. But then things began to change. A war had broken out in the frontier stars, spreading like fire from world to world. His starship lost, he had fallen in with a band of fearsome pirates, who had taken him beyond the most distant colonies to a hidden world where no soul had ever been. And there, something wonderful and terrifying had happened.

Reva closed her eyes and guided Eve through all of their collective memories since Star’s End. She seamlessly wove the disparate pieces into a narrative that encompassed the full breadth of their experience, from the awakening of the collective to Tomas’s departure and arrival at Little Gaia.

Eve gasped for breath. She felt as if she’d lived a dozen lifetimes in the space of a few minutes.

“Less, actually,” said Tomas.

“Beg pardon?”

He gently caressed her shoulders, bringing her back to herself. “It’s been less than a few minutes.” We can read each others’ mind, you know.

Is this what Astrid meant that my life would never be the same?

Yes.

Eve paused, unsure what to think about that. Until just a few moments ago, it would have terrified her. But now that her mind had been expanded, she felt as if a concourse of bright and fantastic worlds had suddenly opened up to her. All her life, she had only known the hundred and twenty two people on board her little station. But now, she saw worlds full of faces, friends, and family she’d never known. She felt the pain of loss and the joy of reunion, the thrill of victory and the despair of defeat. It was as if her whole life up to this moment had been cast in black and white, and only now had begun to take color.

It’s incredible, isn’t it?

The last thought came from Astrid. Eve reached out to her and saw, in an instant, all of her apprehensions about sharing a husband with a sister wife. Most of it was simply due to the uncertainty, and as Eve opened up in kind, her anxieties rapidly dissipated.

You really don’t hold it against me.

No, of course not. Why should I?

My mother was in a polygamous marriage, and it made her miserable.

Immediately, Eve saw everything: the years of toxic jealousy and rivalry, all kept scrupulously hidden from the public eye. Years of speaking as little to each other as possible, with passive-aggressive turf wars over every inconsequential thing. It was enough to drive anyone crazy.

Then why did you choose Tomas, when you could have had your pick of anyone?

Because all my life, the other girls have seen me as a threat. That’s the dark side of having good genetics. I would love to have a husband all to myself, but things can change quickly, and I’d rather marry an unknown than be trapped with a sister wife who hates me.

It all suddenly made sense to her. As she looked into Astrid’s mind, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of compassion and empathy. She wasn’t the stuck-up girl everyone thought her to be. In fact, she was more like Eve than either of them had realized.

There’s no need to worry about sharing a husband, Astrid. I’ll be happy to be your sister wife.

Out in the hallway, Astrid quietly wept. Her relief was so strong that Eve herself was nearly brought to tears. If they had been in the same room, she had no doubt but that they’d embrace each other.

Thank you, Eve. That means a lot to me.

It’s the least I can do. We sister wives have to stick together.

We certainly will.

Tomas smiled. “I think this is the start of something wonderful.”

“Yes,” Eve agreed, cuddling up to him. He put his arm around her and kissed her long and slow. No longer were they strangers. As one kiss gave way to another, Eve’s fears and apprehensions melted away, and she felt as if she’d known her husband-to-be for a lifetime.

WIP excerpt: Patriots in Retreat

I finished the 2.0 draft of Patriots in Retreat (Book 6 of Sons of the Starfarers) yesterday, and it’s turning out a lot better than I expected. The next step is to send it off to my editor, and if all goes well, we should have it up for preorder by November. I’m definitely excited to get it out!

In the meantime, here’s an excerpt. Enjoy!

Ayesha wasn’t sure what to expect as she boarded the Starflight II. For that reason, she activated her pocket AI before she stepped into the airlock.

Calculating threat level, the pocket AI whispered silently in the back of her mind. A stream of data appeared on the edge of her vision, giving her a rundown of the ship she was about to board. She touched her right thumb to her middle finger, and the text disappeared, though the targeting display in the center of her vision did not.

Though she was careful not to show it, her mood always soured at these subtle reminders of her lack of humanity. She was a cyborg, a human with enough cybernetic implants to no longer legally qualify as a person. Most of her implants were hidden from sight; her long black hair hid the neural jacks in the back of her neck, and her eye implants were disguised with cosmetic surgery. Still, they were always with her—as well as the memories of her life before she’d received them.

Prepare for high functioning mode, she ordered as her fingers flew over the airlock control panel. Her energy pistol was holstered and uncharged, but the laser-blade in her boot was ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

Time slowed as the door hissed open. Hyper-awareness flooded her senses as stepped onto the ship. A short corridor led to a standard cabin: wall compartments, double bunk built into the bulkheads, retractable table with a holoscreen surface, and a small corner alcove with a food synthesizer and kitchenette. A door on one side led to what she presumed was the bathroom, while a narrow doorway led to the starship’s cockpit.

The place had a peculiar musky smell, like faded sweat in an old shirt that has been recently cleaned. It was not unpleasant. The hum of the ship’s ventilation system was soft enough that she probably wouldn’t have noticed it if she weren’t in high-functioning mode. The air was comfortably warm, and surprisingly fresh for a ship of such small size. Though the wall compartments were all closed and the floor was clutter-free, the bed was unmade, revealing velvet bedsheets that were remarkably smooth.

Sweat began to pool in the back of Ayesha’s neck, so she stood down from high functioning mode and returned her metabolism to normal. It was clear enough that she wasn’t in immediate danger.

She found Samson in the cockpit, making preparations to leave. While he was distracted, she slipped into the copilot seat beside him. If her presence on the ship unsettled him, he made no visible sign of it.

“Is this the way you always greet your guests?” she asked, crossing her slender legs.

“I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m a bit pre-occupied,” he said, his eyes never leaving the ship’s holoscreen displays. “Getting out of this sector is a rather high priority at the moment.”

“Why is that?”

“Cats don’t play well with wolves. Hang on.”

The floor shuddered, and a deep metallic clang told her that they had undocked from the Starfall. Moments later, the bulkheads began to hum, and a growing sense of nausea told her that they were about to make a jump. She closed her eyes and used her cybernetic implants to induce a meditative state that dulled the disorientation of jumpspace. The moment they were through, she opened her eyes and assessed the situation.

No sign of Outworld warships, she observed as she looked out the forward cockpit window. He hasn’t betrayed me—yet.

“You can relax,” he said as he powered down the engine. “I don’t know the location of the Confederate fleet, and even if I did, I wouldn’t turn you in.”

Ayesha bristled a little at how easily he had read her. She sat back in her chair and affected nonchalance.

“An interesting choice of metaphor. Some would say that the Outworlders are the true wolves.”

“Wolves are pack animals by nature, and highly territorial. Outworlders are more like cats: untameable, independent, and free.”

“But ultimately leaderless.”

He glanced at her sideways. “Yes, there is that. Too many housecats and not enough lions.”

“Do you consider yourself a lion?”

“Far from it. All the lions have enlisted by now. I’m more of a stray.”

Though his body language was casual, she detected a subtle yearning in his voice. But there was also something he was careful to keep hidden from her. That didn’t surprise her, considering the circumstances. But if Admiral Orion expected her to hold Samson at gunpoint for the duration of her mission, he had no appreciation of her finesse.

She rose to her feet and stood in the doorway, facing the cabin. “I take it you’re rarely alone on these voyages.”

“Did the second bunk give it away?”

“It looks like you only use it for storage.”

“I generally do.”

She smirked. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been in bed with the enemy, I take it.”

“Why should I think you’re my enemy?”

His question made her turn. If he noticed her reaction, though, he made no sign of it.

“I’ve only seen a lion once,” she said, more to cover for herself than anything else. “It was in a zoo on the capital world, Gaia Nova. Magnificent beasts, but they’re horrendously expensive to maintain.”

Samson grunted. “That’s only because their homeworld no longer exists. On Earth, they lived in the wild.”

“You still believe the myth about a place called Earth?”

“Don’t you?”

She shrugged. “I suppose such a world could have existed. More likely, Gaia Nova was our homeworld, but the ancients turned it to a desert and recolonized it during the Earthseeding.”

“Interesting theory. I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Theories bore me,” she said, running her fingers along the back of his chair. “And lions belong in captivity, not the wild.”

“That’s why I’m more of a stray.”

“I assure you, I’m more than capable of keeping a stray like you under control.”

He glanced at her and smirked. “And what makes you think that?”

She parted her hair and showed him her neural jack. He nodded, duly impressed. Then, to her dismay, his smirk turned to a smile.

“You remind me of a girl I gave passage to the Nova Minitak system. She was a cyborg not unlike yourself, and also just as gorgeous.”

Ayesha scowled. “The thorns on this rose are sharp.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. And it’s not my intention to pick you.”

“Then what are your intentions?”

He rose to his feet and stood just close enough to be uncomfortable. She fingered the laser-blade hidden in her smartskirt.

“You’re not one of them.”

“Of who?” she asked, frowning.

“You know. The Imperials. They haven’t tamed you yet.”

Their eyes locked, neither of them yielding. Samson didn’t realize it, but their little game of words had crossed a line. She rolled up her left sleeve, revealing her tattoo of the double-headed eagle of the Gaian Empire. In its talons, it held two planets: one, the old Earth of legend, the other the dome-covered world of Gaia Nova.

“You are wrong. Long live the Emperor!”

He said nothing, but continued to smile. She rolled her sleeve down and folded her arms.

“You will work with us to defeat this Outworld Confederacy. Then, when the New Pleiades are fully pacified, you will be free to do as you please.”

“As free as you? Branded into a life of Imperial service?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, as if expecting either a kiss or a slap. Perhaps both.

“Make yourself comfortable, Ayesha Bint Hasan Al-Hasani. You’re my guest, not my enemy.”

The Sword Keeper — excerpt 8

Master Ivanar looked Tamuna in the eye, putting both hands on her trembling shoulders. “We must go south, to the kingdom of Aramand. You’ll be safer there.”

“But what if Araste gives chase?” someone asked.

Ivanar turned to face the room. “We’ll split up to confuse him. I’ll travel to the coast and alert the Aramandi people so that they’ll be ready to receive us. In the meantime, we must do all we can to keep the sword bearer from being discovered.”

The faces around the room were grim, but several of them nodded in approval. Ivanar searched them until his eyes settled on a tall, blond-haired young man. He nodded, and the young man stepped forward, his expression as hard as flint.

“Alex, I’m entrusting the girl to you. Take her west over the mountains, until you reach the stronghold at Akalika. Wait for me there.”

“Yes, Master Ivanar.”

Alex bowed curtly and turned to Tamuna. His arms were strong and muscular, his chest broad. He had a sharp chin and high cheekbones, with deep blue eyes. Even though he was clearly a warrior, he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than her.

You do realize that you may never come back, said Imeris. A war is coming, and this village may not be here when—or if—you return. I wish that you had more time to say goodbye, but that is a luxury neither of us can afford.

Tamuna swallowed, and her knees went weak. She glanced at Sopiko, whose face was red with rage. Part of her longed to hug her, but she hesitated, worried that her aunt would nag her for being so sentimental. In that brief moment of indecision, Aunt Sopiko turned and stormed out of the room before she could say goodbye.

“Here,” said Ivanar, fitting a cloak over her shoulders. “It’s a bit large, but it will have to do until we can get you a proper one.” He reached into his rucksack and pulled out what looked like a belt, but wider and with broad leather straps. As Tamuna adjusted the cloak, he put on the belt and fastened the scabbard to it.

“This may feel a bit cumbersome, but you’ll soon get used to it.”

Alex bent down and pulled the leather straps tight. When he was done, it felt as if she were carrying a bag of rocks on her hip, but the strap across her chest and shoulder offered enough support to make it comfortable.

You’ll grow used to it with time, said Imeris. I won’t always be such a burden.

“No, it’s fine,” she said aloud, blushing as she remembered that only she could hear him. But Alex and Master Ivanar were too busy conferring with each other to hear, and most of the others had already left. She glanced at the door, hoping to catch sight of her aunt, and instead saw Nika. Her eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Nika!” she said, hurrying over to him. “Did you hear what happened? There’s so much to tell you, I—”

“Mistress Leladze,” said Master Ivanar, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, but we have to go.”

Nika looked from her to the sword keeper and back again, thoroughly confused. A horrible sinking feeling rose in Tamuna’s stomach, and without thinking she threw her arms around him.

“I have to go, Nika,” she said. “I don’t know when or if I’ll come back, so… goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” he said, giving her a stunned look as she drew back. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Away, far away.”

“But when will you—”

“Goodbye!”

She turned her face to hide her tears and followed the sword keeper out into the yard. A rooster crowed as the sun began its descent behind the mountains, while all around her the monks took to their restless horses. She glanced one last time at Aunt Sopiko’s tavern—the only home she’d ever known—before following Alex onto a chestnut mare. He spurred the horse forward, and she held tightly onto him as they galloped southward.

The Sword Keeper

$12.99eBook: $4.99

Author: Joe Vasicek
Series: The Twelfth Sword Trilogy, Book 1
Genres: Epic, Fantasy
Tag: 2017 Release

Tamuna Leladze always dreamed of adventure, but never expected to answer its call. That changes when a wandering knight arrives at her aunt's tavern. He is the keeper of a magic sword that vanished from the pages of history more than a thousand years ago. The sword has a mind and a memory, and it has chosen Tamuna for purpose far greater than she knows.

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The Sword Keeper — excerpt 7

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”

Nika stopped at the farmhouse gate and sheepishly turned to face his father. “To the tavern,” he muttered, hoping that was an acceptable response.

“Why, boy? The tavern’s closed.”

“Sopiko said she still needs me.” And Tamuna’s been sick all day.

His father jabbed the pitchfork into the ground and swore. “That damn woman had better be paying you for this. Have you had your supper yet?”

“No, sir, I—”

“Good. Eat it there.” He turned to the yard, where Nika’s two older brothers had paused in their work. “Giga! Lasha! What are you doing standing around? Get back to stacking those cornstalks!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember: Who doesn’t work, doesn’t eat!”

Nika took that as his cue to leave. He slipped out the gate and pulled it shut before dashing across the dusty lane and into the fallow field on the other side. The tall grass brushed against his legs, ticking his skin through the holes in his pants, but he kept running until he was well out of sight. Only then did he slow down enough to catch his breath.

Tamuna was so sick that Sopiko had closed the tavern—which she never, ever did. When he’d arrived in the morning, the door had been locked. Only after knocking for several minutes had Sopiko finally opened it.

“Come back later,” Sopiko had told him when he’d come around back. “Tamuna’s taken ill, and we’ve closed down the tavern until she’s better.”

“She’s ill?” Nika had asked, his stomach falling. “What do you mean? Is she going to be all right? What happened?”

“We don’t know. We found her passed out on the floor in the private room, and she hasn’t woken up since. Come back this evening; we may need you then.”

Nika had wanted to ask more, but Sopiko had pressed a few coppers into his hand and sent him on his way home. His father had thrown the meager coin angrily against the wall, and probably would have beaten him, except that his mother had intervened. He was a harsh man, and Nika wasn’t his favorite. Sometimes, Nika wondered if his father cared about him at all.

Thoughts like these always made his heart heavy. But the cool autumn breeze and the splash of gold across the evening sky soon lightened his spirits. A rooster crowed somewhere in the distance, and the sound of cows mooing in the thicket made him smile. Old Giorgi’s cow had just had a calf a few days ago, and he’d been there to witness the birth. It was amazing how the little ones could walk almost from the moment they left the womb.

Sometimes, when he wasn’t busy, he liked to sit in the shade of a tree and watch the mother hens roam the yard with their broods. While the little chicks pecked and played, the mother hen stood watch, chasing away anyone who dared come too close. And in the evening, while the other chickens flew into the trees to roost, the mother hen would stay on the ground and gather all her chicks under her wings, protecting them throughout the night.

Of course, there was always a straggler who didn’t get to the food as fast, or couldn’t keep up with the rest. Whenever he could, Nika would take the straggler aside and hand-feed it to make sure it grew up strong. Sometimes, it was enough to make a difference.

The footpath turned into the wide lane that led from the village to the western mountains. He passed a few cows and a small clutch of geese, who moved to the other side of the dirt road as he walked past.

In a lot of ways, his friend Tamuna was a straggler. Just as the mother hens knew the difference between their chicks and the ones that didn’t truly belong to them, Sopiko clearly knew that Tamuna wasn’t her true daughter. It showed in her stern demeanor and overly-critical eye. Of course, Tamuna never saw it that way. When she needed someone to talk to, though, he always tried to be there for her. He often stayed in the stables late into the night just to talk with her, after all her chores were done.

The Sword Keeper

$12.99eBook: $4.99

Author: Joe Vasicek
Series: The Twelfth Sword Trilogy, Book 1
Genres: Epic, Fantasy
Tag: 2017 Release

More info →

$1 off the ebook with coupon code: BUY DIRECT

FREE ebook when you buy the audiobook direct!

FREE ebook when you buy the paperback direct!

The Sword Keeper — excerpt 6

Tamuna swallowed again, shooting a nervous glance at her aunt. I’m sorry for all this, she wanted desperately to tell her. Please, forgive me.

“Well?”

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “Yes, I did.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he withdrew his hand from her shoulder. For a moment, she wondered if he thought she was lying, but then he held the sword out to her, hilt first. Once again, the room fell silent.

“If what you say is true, then prove it by drawing the sword.”

She hesitated, unsure what to do. Her aunt shook her head, but once again she felt as if some unseen hand was pushing her forward, down the path of destiny.

Don’t be afraid, Tamuna, came Imeris’s voice. You made your choice, and you made it wisely. These men are here to help you, I promise.

Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her fingers around the ancient hilt. To her surprise, the sword practically leaped into her hands. She stumbled backward, the blade ringing in the stunned silence, and for a very brief moment she lost her balance. The tip swung down and hit the wooden floor with a thud.

“I’m sorry,” she said, horrified at herself. “I didn’t mean to—”

Before she could finish, the silver-haired traveler went down on one knee and bowed. Words failed her, and it was all she could do to keep from dropping the sword entirely.

“All my life, I’ve longed for this moment,” the traveler said reverently. “For almost a thousand years, we have kept the sword Imeris hidden from the eyes of the world, searching for the one who would fulfill the ancient prophecy, and now, our search has finally come to an end.”

He looked up, and his eyes shimmered with tears. Tamuna didn’t know what to say. All around them, the silence gave way to a torrent of hurried and excited words, like the patter of rain from the breaking of a storm.

He’s right, said Imeris. You are the sword bearer.

“I don’t—”

Hold on.

For an instant, she saw a man on a black horse, galloping full strength at the head of an evil storm. In his hand, he held a sword that shimmered like lightning, a red-speckled black stone embedded in the hilt. She shuddered in fright, but the image fled as quickly as it had come to her.

We’re in danger, said Imeris. The others have seen your face and know our location.

“But—”

There isn’t time to explain. We need to go now!

Tamuna’s stomach fell, and her heart began to race. The memory of the darkening shadows came back to her, and she knew, intuitively, that Imeris was right.

The Sword Keeper

$12.99eBook: $4.99

Author: Joe Vasicek
Series: The Twelfth Sword Trilogy, Book 1
Genres: Epic, Fantasy
Tag: 2017 Release

More info →

$1 off the ebook with coupon code: BUY DIRECT

FREE ebook when you buy the audiobook direct!

FREE ebook when you buy the paperback direct!

The Sword Keeper — excerpt 5

“Imeris!”

Tamuna reached out into the darkness and found her arms tangled in something thick and woolly. Her eyes snapped open, but a wave of disorientation and nausea made it difficult to tell which way was up and which was down. Before she could take stock of her surroundings, though, hands held her down and a warm, wet towel was draped over her forehead.

“What… where…” she stammered, then blinked and looked up at the people standing above her. Almost immediately, she recognized Aunt Sopiko, her habitually stern expression softened by deep concern. The sight of a familiar face calmed Tamuna considerably.

“Tamuna!” said Sopiko. “You’re awake now, I see. Are you all right?”

“I think so,” said Tamuna. She tried to sit up, but her arms were weak and she soon collapsed back against the pillow.

“There now—give her something to drink,” came a voice from off to her right. A sheepskin flask was pressed to her lips, and a spurt of deliciously cool water dribbled into her mouth. She swallowed, coughed, and reached up to take hold of the flask herself. As she drank, her strength slowly returned.

Where am I? she wondered. It didn’t take long to recognize that she was back in the tavern, lying on her aunt’s bed in the master bedroom. A crowd of strangers had gathered around her, many of them dressed in the same gold-embroidered tunic that the traveler had been wearing. The sun was already shining through the western window, indicating that it was almost evening.

She coughed and put the flask aside. “How long has it been since—”

“Almost a full day,” said her aunt. “And we’ve been so worried, we closed the tavern to tend to you.” She held out a spoonful of porridge and all but forced it down Tamuna’s throat. “No more questions—now you must eat.”

Tamuna almost choked on the first spoonful, but soon forced it down. Her aunt had mixed some raisins in, which meant she was more concerned than angry. Still, Tamuna couldn’t help but chide herself. A full day—that was a lot of lost business. With the sun already setting, there was no chance they’d be up and open again in time for the evening. The bar would be empty tonight, and it was her fault.

But if that was true, who were all these strangers?

She scanned the room between spoonfuls of porridge until her eyes finally fell on the silver-haired traveler. He stood by the door, his arms folded and a look of deep solemnity across his face. Her eyes strayed to the wall behind his back and the dull green emerald that sat just above his left shoulder. With a start, she recognized the corded hilt of the sword Imeris, with the emerald set squarely in the pommel. For a fleeting instance, she saw the face of the young man from the vision.

“Imeris?” she said, reaching out with her hand. Instantly, the room fell silent.

“What was that?” her aunt asked. “Never mind. Don’t overexert yourself.”

“Hold on,” said the old traveler, stepping forward. He looked Tamuna straight in the eye as he unstrapped the scabbard and held it up before her.

“Are you speaking of this?”