Release Blitz + Giveaway: Conspiracy (A New World #3) by M.D. Neu

 

Title:  Conspiracy

Series: A New World, Book Three

Author: M.D. Neu

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/16/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 126800

Genre: Sci Fi, LGBTQIA+, Space travel, aliens, politics, grief, interspecies romance

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Description

A little blue world, the third planet from the sun. It’s home to seven billion people with all manner of faiths, beliefs and customs, divided by bigotry and misunderstanding, who have been told they are not alone in the universe. Anyone watching from the outside would pass by this fractured and tumultuous world, unless they had no other choice.

It’s been a little over a year since Todd Landon’s life changed with the arrival of the Nentraee. Continuing his duties as Special Envoy for Terran Affairs, Todd finally feels at home with the aliens; gaining more responsibility and influence with both races. Plans are underway for two Interplanetary spaceports and additional solar exploration. It’s an exciting time for both the humans and the Nentraee.

Not everything is as perfect as some hope. Speaker General Mirtoff and Vice-Speaker Mi’ko of the Nentraee are worried that the Liberi Dei plot additional terrorist attacks and may have inside help. Threats are clear, but who can they trust? Could Todd be helping them unknowingly or worse covertly? Will these new space endeavors continue to bring the human and the Nentraee together or will a conspiracy hiding in the shadows fracture an already shaky alliance?

Excerpt

Conspiracy
M.D. Neu © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The Security Training area appeared ordinary, especially since the space was in a secured part of the ship. Yes, the area had grass and a few shrubs outside the façade, but the endless sky feeling didn’t exist here; overall, this area had been built more for function and less for form. Still, Todd was glad he had access to the location, and the gym had everything they needed for a good workout. He had even managed to have the Nentraee bring up some human gym equipment for his use, as he didn’t want to risk his life on the Nentraee equipment. Sure, the human machines got a few odd looks from the Nentraee security when he and Dan used them, but Vi-Narm confided in him several of the security personnel had tried the pieces and used them when no humans were around.

He cracked his neck, thinking of his earlier conversation with Brad. Seeing his brother again would be a nice treat, and Brad had been correct: too much time had passed since Todd had seen Brad or the rest of his family down on Earth. The infrequent visits weren’t all his fault; so much had changed over the last year, and he had a lot of work to do, especially knowing Liberi Dei continued to lurk out there, waiting. A shudder ran down his spine. Martha’s words still haunted him.

Too bad you won’t live long enough to find out. What had she been organizing? Her death was a shame really, killed by her own people before he found out what she and Liberi Dei actually wanted. However, they were still out there planning. Which added to his frustration of late: Mi’ko and Mirtoff no longer included him in anything to do with the terrorist organization, saying keeping him detached from the matter kept him safe.

Todd had no reason to doubt them, but something tickled the back of his mind and he wasn’t sure if this was the only reason they kept him in the dark about Liberi Dei.

He missed the tick of his pocket watch.

So much has changed.

He dug through his bag, pulled out his pocket watch, and checked the time.

“Where is he?” Todd huffed and put the timepiece in his gym bag, his hand brushing along the cool surface of his datapad.

Dan should have been here twenty minutes ago; at this rate Todd would barely have enough time for their workout and for him to get changed and ready for the interview.

A chirp called his attention.

Todd reached into his bag and pulled out his datapad. Now what? He tapped the pad to activate the device.

“Dan!” Todd’s voice called out louder than he had hoped, but no one around him seemed to notice. “Where are you? You’re late.”

“I know.” Dan’s expression remained flat with no Danness to flavor his words. “Listen, I’m heading to Earth. I have to see my family and take care of some things.”

“What? Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Dan’s tone faltered and his expression sank. “They’re fine, sorry; just a lot going on and my mom isn’t getting any younger.”

“I get it, my parents–”

“Look, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“When you–”

The communications ended and the Nentraee seal appeared.

“What the hell?” Todd shook his head and dropped the pad into his bag.

Todd raked a hand through his hair. Well, now he would have plenty of time to get ready for the interview. He made his way over to the lockers to change into his work clothes and ceremonial robe. Once Todd cleaned up, he made his way out of the locker room.

“Special Envoy.” A deep familiar voice caught Todd’s attention as he left the facility.

He turned to see Vi-Narm standing there in the equivalent of workout wear: loose pants and a flowy top.

“Hi, Vi-Narm.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to meet with GNN?”

Todd nodded. “I planned to get in some training with Dan today, but…”

“If you would like to train, I would be happy to workout with you, after your duties.” Vi-Narm tossed her long ponytail over her shoulder.

Todd picked at his deep-blue ceremonial cloak, the one given to him by Mi’ko and Mirtoff to represent his standing in Nentraee society. The cloak draped over his shoulders, and the wide embroidered collar with silver stitching sparkled as the threads caught the light. He checked the two large silver clasps with matching deep-blue stones attaching the cloak to his shoulders. The ends of the cloak fell to the floor, revealing the embroidery as the stitching continued down to each of the eight symbols representing the Nentraee clans and the one representing humans.

“Do I look okay?” Todd asked.

“You look respectable for your position and the purpose of your meeting,” Vi-Narm said.

“And with that not-so-shining endorsement, I’ll head off.” He winked at her. “Thanks for the offer to work out. I’ll have to take you up on the suggestion, especially if Dan keeps ditching me.”

On his way out, he gave one more glance over his shoulder to the facility and the surrounding area. Dan and he were supposed to work out twice a week, and yet over the last several months Dan had cancelled many of their get-togethers, not just the workouts. Each time they met, Dan appeared more preoccupied. More distant. Todd shook his head. At least he still had Brad’s visit to look forward to, even if he would be here for work and not play.

He felt the tick of his pocket watch and marched on in time with each tick. Once he found a viewport, he glanced out, seeing one of the Speaker General’s ship’s parks. A group of xĩmé flew by, the deep blue of their feathers a contrast to the yellow leaves of the nabutimaba tree. He chuckled and shook his head. Recent events seemed insane to him, like something out of some sci-fi series.

“What a year.” He sighed as he continued on.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

M.D. Neu is an award-winning queer Fiction Writer with a love for writing and travel. Living in the heart of Silicon Valley (San Jose, California) and growing up around technology, he’s always been fascinated with what could be. Specifically drawn to Science Fiction and Paranormal television and novels, M.D. Neu was inspired by the great Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, Stephen King, Alice Walker, Alfred Hitchcock, Harvey Fierstein, Anne Rice, and Kim Stanley Robinson. An odd combination, but one that has influenced his writing.

Growing up in an accepting family as a gay man he always wondered why there were never stories reflecting who he was. Constantly surrounded by characters that only reflected heterosexual society, M.D. Neu decided he wanted to change that. So, he took to writing, wanting to tell good stories that reflected our diverse world.

When M.D. Neu isn’t writing, he works for a non-profit and travels with his biggest supporter and his harshest critic, Eric his husband of twenty plus years.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Giveaway

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Audiobook Blog Tour + Giveaway: Dropnauts (Liminal Sky: Redemption Cycle #1) by J. Scott Coatsworth

 

J. Scott Coatsworth's diverse hopepunk space opera Dropnauts Is out in audio, narrated by Kevin Earlywine. And there's a giveaway!

Life after the Crash.

Over a century after the end of the Earth, life goes on in Redemption, the sole remaining Lunar colony, and possibly the last outpost of humankind in the Solar System. But with an existential threat burrowing its way into the Moon's core, humanity must recolonize the homeworld.

Twenty brave dropnauts set off on a mission to explore the empty planet. Four of them—Rai, Hera, Ghost and Tien—have trained for two-and-a-half years for the Return. They're bound for Martinez Base, just outside the Old Earth city of San Francisco.

But what awaits them there will turn their assumptions upside down—and in the process, either save or destroy what's left of humanity.

Amazon Audio | Universal Buy Link | Goodreads

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Giveaway

Scott is giving away a $25 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47248/?

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Excerpt

Listen to chapter one:

[audio mp3="https://www.otherworldsink.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/DS-CH-1.mp3"][/audio]

We’re going home.

Rai sweated inside his suit, white-knuckling the arms of the retrofitted launch chair under his suit gloves. He watched the Zhenyi'slaunch countdown clock.

Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…

Outside he was calm, but inside he vibrated like an erhu string, his stomach doing acrobatics in his chest. I’m not ready.

Five teams of dropnauts had strapped themselves into their jumper ships, prepared for the ascent from Redemption on the lunar surface to Launchpad station. Outside his porthole, the blue-green marble of Earth beckoned.

Forty-five, forty-four…

Rai cast a nervous glance at his three teammates. Hera was doing her preflight check, her back to him, sweat dripping down the umber skin of her neck from her short-cropped, curly black hair.

Behind him on his right, Tien’s eyes were closed, and she was still as a golden statue. Zen.

He turned to find Ghost looking at him from behind. His ex grinned, running his hand through his lanky, dirty blond hair, his green eyes twinkling. His skin was as white as Rai’s own, but with a dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose.

Rai managed a pale imitation of a smile back. -It's totally safe.- Ghost's voice pinged in his head, em to em.

-Easy for you to say.- Ghost had never feared a thing in his life.

Rai sighed. If he had to, he could take the small ship apart and put it back together with his bare hands, a skill learned under Sam's supervision—the mech was as harsh a taskmaster as any human Rai had ever worked for. Still, he felt like puking. The speeches and adulation of the farewell celebration were over, and now his doubts circled like vultures. I'm not ready.

Thirty-two, thirty-one…

-You'll be ok.- Hera's determined voice this time. She turned to squeeze his knee, and then fired up the Zhenyi'shydro-fuel engine. He flashed her a sheepish grin.

A hundred meters away, the Bristol's takeoff shook the landing pad. Rai watched it rise, carrying Dax, Jess, Ola, and Xiu Ying, the London team, toward the bright stars above. The jumper’s expelled water froze almost instantly, falling as snow over the snaking lava tube that held the city of Redemption. A lunar blizzard whipped by them and shimmered into nothing.

Rai closed his eyes, remembering the night before. Jess, laughing and dancing with him at Heaven, the clear dome of the lunar sky sparkling above them, the heavy beat of the thromb club pulsing through his chest. Dancing like no one was watching.

He rubbed his jaw. It still ached from the fist he'd taken to the face. Wild party. And a wilder night with Ayvin, the jack he'd picked up at the club.

"Zhenyi, ready for liftoff in T-Minus ten seconds.” Sam's voice, coming from Team Five's ship, the Liánhuā, was cool and collected. Did the mech feel emotion, like the nausea that was boiling in Rai's guts? His teammates were strong, smart, and prepared for anything. I can do this. Besides, it was too late to back out now.

"Affirmative.” Hera shifted in her seat, her biframes stretching her paralyzed legs for her.

"You’ll do okay, tiger.” Ghost elbowed him in the ribs.

“Six, five, four…” Hera swiped the glossy white control deck, and the launch controls appeared, floating over the white surface.

“Leave him alone.” Rai could hear the icy frown in Tien’s voice.

He closed his eyes, willing his stomach to calm. Here we go. Nothing he could do about it now.

“Three, two, one… hang on.” Hera fired the engines, and the craft lifted on a cloud of steam into the star-filled skies of Luna.

Rai squeezed his armrests again as G-force pushed him hard back in his seat. He was committed now. Poppies, Chinese Houses, Fiddlenecks, Baby Blue Eyes, Yellow Pansies, Star Lilies… Reciting the flowers of the old San Francisco basin helped soothe his abraded nerves as the rumbling of the little craft rattled his bones.

He opened his eyes to see Redemption receding below them. The great lava tube was striped with sparkling bands of solar receptors that let sunlight into the city below. Rail lines snaked out from Redemption to the transit center like roping vines—to the seed launcher at Copernicus Crater, to Renewal colony, and beyond.

As the city shrank below them, his fear turned to sadness, a lump forming in his throat. He’d taken his home for granted, enthralled by the idea of joining humankind’s greatest adventure in a century. Now he might never see it again.

The hydro rocket thrust them up out of Luna’s gravity well into naked space, toward the bright blue skies of the empty Earth above. Rai stared at it, that enigmatic ball in space which no one had visited in over a century. What secrets are you hiding?

The roar cut off as quickly as it had begun, leaving the Zhenyi drifting upward in silence as they slipped out of Luna’s grasp.

Hera’s hands flew across the deck, swapping the launch controls for navigation, and nudged them onto a new course following the Bristol toward the Launchpad.

Rai let go, his breath coming out in a heavy sigh.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Ghost unbuckled his seatbelt and stretched, yawning as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

God, he's beautiful. Pale as his namesake under his mop of dirty blond hair, the engineer’s thick arms were just a suggestion under the bulky suit, but Rai could still see them in his mind. Ghost’s well-toned muscles, the smell of his skin after—

“You okay, buddy?” Ghost was staring at him, one dark eyebrow raised in concern.

Rai bit his lip and looked away. “Just nervous. Wondering if we’ll ever make it back home”

“Hey, if things go well after the drop, maybe you and me could open the first Earthside bar since the Crash.” Ghost leaned over him from behind to stare at the Earth through the porthole, his cheek close to Rai’s

“That’s crazy.” But his spirits lifted. It was idiotic. And just the distraction he needed.

Ghost sank back into his own seat. “Every outpost needs a good bar where the colonists can blow off a little steam, right?”

Rai laughed in spite of himself, warming to the idea. “We could call it ‘The Frontier’.”

“Or ‘The Wild Hookup’.”

“Best beer this side of the planet.”

“Only beer!”

Rai snorted. Just like old times. He hadn’t forgiven Ghost, though. Not yet. He looked down at his gloved hands, emblazoned with the leaf-and-orb of Redemption’s space service.

Things had ended badly between them—crash and burn bad. Still, they’d be too busy the next few weeks to think about anything but the drop. The survival of Redemption and the remnants of humanity depended on them.

He could let it go. I have to. He’d managed the launch, after all. I can do this too.

Ghost squeezed his shoulder and closed his eyes, touching his temple and bobbing his head to a song only he could hear.

Rai turned away.

You're stronger than any of us. Hera had told him that the night before. Still, he didn’t feel strong.

He looked out of the porthole again at the Earth—the same view they’d had from Heaven. And yet somehow, it looked different. More real.

Poppies, Chinese Houses, Fiddlenecks, Baby Blue Eyes, Yellow Pansies, Star Lilies…

He touched his hand to the porthole. Even through the glove, it was cold. We're going home.

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Author Bio

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is a full member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor/

Author Twitter: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com/jscoatsworth

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

Author BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/j-scott-coatsworth

Narrator Bio:

Kevin Earlywine is an actor, director, singer/songwriter, and audiobook narrator who hails from Rockford, Illinois! His debut album DANGER was released February 28th, 2017. Kevin started writing songs for the album in 2012, and finally in November, 2015, he started recording the songs!

Cover Reveal: Barons of Oartheca (The Oarthecan Star Saga #2) by James Siewert

Author James Siewert and Other Worlds Ink share new cover and book info for new MM space opera, Barons of Oartheca (The Oarthecan Star Saga #2)! Discover more today!

James Siewert has a new MM space opera romance out, The Oarthecan Star Saga book 2: Barons of Oartheca. And we have the cover reveal!

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and your enemies bolder…

Headed in opposite galactic directions, Rowland Hale and Toar Grithrawrscion must find a way to reunite despite the myriad of challenges dogging their every step. An unwelcome surprise finds Rowland picking up the pieces of what he thought was his life, and Toar learns the hard way that the Pryok’tel always settle the score.

Can their blossoming relationship survive, or will it be torn to bits between needle-sharp teeth?

In Barons of Oartheca, the exciting sequel to the one-of-a-kind adventure Allure of Oartheca, James Siewert plunges our two heroes into an epic fight for survival with adversaries both old and new, and asks the question, ‘Is family those you love, or those you trust … with your life?’

Universal Buy Link

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN

Goodreads

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Excerpt

Nothing quite like being marched down the hallway by a squad of elite Pryok’tel slavers to put a dampener on your day. Shame, especially since up until now, I was otherwise having a fantastic time aboard the Oarthecan Space Services Navy (OSSN) Grolthon’s Spear.

It’s my sixth, and by all appearances, last day aboard the Spear, and even though during this time I was both a patient recovering from a near-fatal plasma blast and a prisoner in custody for breaking the Oarthecan Decree, I felt like I’d been on a bit of a holiday, really. It’s a misery that it’s come to an end the way it has—we were scheduled to arrive home tomorrow, but that’s all gone up in smoke.

Was looking forward to seeing my Dad, I was. He’d managed, under his authority as the High Baron Grithrawr XXI, to send me a personal message, which, due to my previous conviction in getting the Baron Thursk killed, is technically against the law. However, Dad’s not used to having his will thwarted, and I suspect that my near-death experience bought him the leverage he needed to bend the rules.

The message was genuinely kindly, if somewhat stern, which is a good summation of my baron-father in general. Though he is looking forward to me being home, Dad’s not entirely pleased with my recent escapades. Have the feeling he’s going to be far less pleased with my current ones, however.

Pity about all this, especially since I’m in a much better place health-wise than when I first arrived on the Spear, entirely due to the excellent care of my doctor, Yozthren Letherclan—or due to his penchant for unnecessary needles, Dr. Pokey, if he’s cared for you long enough. I hope he’s all right; it’s been a horrid morning for everyone aboard the Spear, and I’m worried, to a rage, about what these sireless Pryok’tel ghouls have planned for us.

Under Dr. Pokey’s vigilant eye (and still quite talented hands, but that’s just between him and me), I’ve all but made a full recovery from a rifle-shot that burned a fist-sized hole in my left side, just above my hip. I’ve had an intestine graft and a freshly cloned gallbladder installed, and according to yesterday’s medical exam, both have set up shop like they’ve always been there.

And while my two vaporised kidneys and damaged liver were still on my list of things to get sorted, Dr. Pokey told me there’s no desperate need for those, as my remaining two kidneys are handling things well enough and my liver’s at just under eighty percent. An incredible recovery, Dr. Pokey remarked, but it all seems a bit of a waste now.

As for my arrest for having broken the Oarthecan Decree that prevents contact between Oarth and human males (which I most thoroughly, and enjoyably, accomplished)—well, thanks to the kindness of Derrarvral Henthrothsire, captain of the Grolthon’s Spear, that’s been more of a formality than an actuality. Never even saw the brig, so kind he’s been to me.

The Decree, put in place to prevent contact with a human male’s permanent and lethally-charged Allure (that they have no control over, either), is one that is not to be trifled with, yet trifled with it I did: about a week ago, I’d rescued said human male, the incredibly handsome, wondrously intelligent and terrifically brave Rowland Hale, after his ship had been destroyed during a Pryok’tel raid. I then made the decision to help Rowland recover both his kidnapped crew and a stolen VEILLED system, which, had it fallen into the hands of the Pryok’tel, would have resulted in them learning how to turn their ships invisible.

Normally, the punishment for breaking the Decree is essentially life-time imprisonment and being permanently exiled from your family. So far, I’ve only been charged with breaking the Decree, and there’s quite a lot of mitigating circumstances that might save me from being convicted: my meeting Rowland was under an act of mercy, and our subsequent adventure not only prevented the VEILLED technology from being harvested, but also resulted in the rescue of his crew and twenty Oarth. Importantly, two of the rescued Oarth were barons, and one was an embercoat drone, our red-furred cousins who up until that rescue were thought to have been driven to extinction.

So instead of being sent to the brig for my crime, Derrar gave me the Spear’s guest suite, the one that’s usually reserved for high-ranking dignitaries. While not as fine as the Spear’s barons’ quarters, my room was nevertheless quite on the luxurious side. Tastefully decorated and wonderfully spacious, with good, sensible Oarthecan architecture throughout—curved walls, flowing lines, and not a sharp corner in sight.

On my first night, I discovered that I could stand fully upright, even on my tippy-toes, and still have excellent clearance for my head, which was a treat I’d not enjoyed on a spacecraft for quite some time.

That, and my sleeping pit was so large and lush that I could stretch out entirely and not even reach the sides, and sink down deep for a proper sleep. Ah, I’ll miss that, for certain—the Pryok’tel don’t deem us Oarth worthy of proper rest, let alone proper bedding—it’s the cold floor for us drones, if we manage to survive ‘till bedtime, that is.

At this particular moment, I’m being led down the hallways of the Grolthon’s Spear by my nose via a sturdy metal chain that’s attached to a muzzle I’ve been forced to wear, and with the other end in the hands of the lead Pryok’tel raider. It’s not your typical muzzle, like the one you’d use to train a sharp-toothed cretralth, but a custom-built one the Pryok’tel designed specifically for us drones. It’s a full metal casing that fits round our heads and tightly over our nose and mouth, preventing us from using our sharp teeth as weapons, but that’s not the worst of it.

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Author Bio

James and his husband live in beautiful British Columbia, Canada. Part-time office drone, part-time storyteller, full time science-fiction and fantasy aficionado, James couldn't find enough stories involving characters who are like him and his husband: big men with big hearts! Taking matters into his own hands, James hopes to share stories where brawny blokes with hearts of gold take centre stage. Join him in his worlds and discover authentic characters, gripping scenes, lush imagination, a touch of the mushy stuff and one-of-a-kind heroes in truly daring adventures!

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21531168.James_Siewert

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/James-Siewert/e/B095T25ZSB

Release Blast + Giveaway: Cherish (The Valespian Pact #4) by Lexi Ander

 Author Lexi Ander and Other Worlds Ink share new release, Cherish (The Valespian Pact #4)! Learn more about the latest in the space opera series and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway!

Lexi Ander has a new LGBTQ+ space opera out, The Valespian Pact book 4 (Ace, Demi, Bi, Poly): Cherish. And there's a great giveaway!

Saving a life can change the course of history.

Destin is torn away from his chicks and his bonded when the Terrens invade Aries 7. Experimented on in Terren labs, and made to work their mines, the GyrFalconi struggle to survive. Destin becomes their caretaker, endeavoring to save as many as possible, despite the emotional toll. Amidst the battle for survival, the universe shines on him and he bonds with not one but four people who give him a reason to keep fighting. When Valespia sends its Legions to the GyrFalconi’s aid, Destin and his bonded are eventually freed, only to face new cruelties from their own people.

Freedom comes with its own trials, though, as a divide forms in GyrFalconi society between the winged and the wingless. Destin and his bonded are given a chance at true happiness and they keep what they claim, no matter what.

Warnings: violence, captivity, experimentation/not shown, physical trauma, death of unnamed character/not shown, talk of suicide, suicide not on page, death of chicks when eggs go cold.

Amazon | Tolino | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | QueeRomance Ink | Liminal Fiction | Smashwords

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Giveaway

Lexi is giving away three $20 Amazon gift cards with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47219/?

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Excerpt

Dashing tears from his eyes, he finished packing a small but heavy satchel. Alaina and Paxx waited for him in the receiving room holding large, overstuffed bags. At least they were not flying any great distance. The door was open to the balcony and the sight beyond confirmed their reality like nothing else could. Transports large and small zipped between the tall spires of this residential quarter of Skylight. The buildings were hundreds of floors tall with every roost boasting a balcony or three for landing. Usually, municipal transports flew above the spires, but these originated from the base of the buildings where the personal transports were stored.

The aircraft were not the only traffic. GyrFalconi flew everywhere, either singly or in small flocks, and there was a lot of swerving and near collisions, the people too panicked to pay attention. A lead weight formed in Destin’s stomach and a sense of urgency whispered that they needed to hurry. At least his parents’ rookery was only a couple spires over.

“Stay close to me,” he warned. The fledglings’ eyes were round with dawning fear as they observed the chaos. Paxx and Alaina nodded vigorously.

Clutching the pack to his chest, Destin sprinted and leaped off the balcony, his wings spread as he tested the air for a wind to glide on while he waited for his fledglings to catch up. They carried more, so they dropped quicker and had to flap hard to reach him, their burdens clutched to their chests. Destin spiraled down to the building’s lower floors, hoping that the air there would be less travelled, and he was right. As long as they stayed above the storage levels, they would not cross many individual flyers.

A few minutes later, they reached his parents’ building. Destin searched for his mahen’s storage garage where she and his dahen would be waiting. All the bay doors were open and the interiors empty. He did not need to read the labels, since his mahen, Akela de la Zudora, stood in the opening to her bay watching for them. Her golden-brown feathers were streaked with a darker brown that made her look severe when her feathers were clapped tight to her crown. Her brown-ringed black eyes held a wealth of worry as well as a touch of fear, which abated when her gaze landed on them.

Destin circled around behind his fledglings and made them land first. Both immediately went to Akela when their feet touched the floor. She wrapped them in a calming embrace as she clicked her nose-plate to theirs. His dahen, Imrie, rushed from the transport when Destin set down. Imrie’s long, sweeping gray-tipped pink feathers were ruffled in the strong breeze that pushed into the bay. The pink contrasted beautifully with his ebony skin. Of all the Aries collectives, Destin thought his dahen’s feather coloring the prettiest. His own were red feathers dusted with the broody black of Aries 1. When he was much younger, he’d wished he had the pretty pinks of Aries 4 like his da. Destin had outgrown such vanities and he was content with his coloring, though he still thought the red and black was somber.

Imrie grabbed his face and clicked his hard yellow nose-plate against Destin’s. “Where is Dena?” he asked softly enough that the chicks did not hear.

Destin refused to answer, not wanting to bring to the fledglings’ attention that he and their mahen were at odds. Imrie’s blue eyes narrowed with comprehension, and Destin did not envy the dressing down that his dahen would give Dena when he saw her next.

His parents’ personal transport was a modest five-person pipit. Glancing inside, food stores were crammed into every available space, leaving just enough room in the back for Destin’s fledglings. They would be holding their overstuffed burdens in their laps since there was no other room to store the bags.

“I think we can make room for you,” Mahen said, coming up behind him. But they could not and still eat. There were questions about whether the sky-cities receiving refugees would have enough foodstuff to feed everyone. Destin would not have his family going hungry when there was a seat for him on another transport.

“Dena made arrangements for me,” he replied. Akela pursed her lips, sweeping her gaze over him and the fledglings as if to say, ‘yes, my son, I can see the accommodations your bonded has made.’ He forged on. “Speaking of, they are waiting on me. I am already several minutes late.”

His chicks made frantic noises. They were all talk about building a nest of their own, but here they were, not wanting to be separated from him. It warmed Destin’s heart more than it should have. Perhaps Dena was correct, and he was holding onto the fledglings too tightly. He wrapped each chick in his arms, reminded of how much larger they were when he tilted his head up so they could click their nose-plates against his.

“Do what you are told and help your granden and granhen with what they need. They will rendezvous with your bondeds’ families. Together, they will all work to keep you safe.” Destin waited for them to nod before he stepped away.

“When will you and Dena be joining us?” Mahen asked, pushing the fledglings toward the transport.

“The de la Bao flock are meeting up with some of their extended family. I will make my way to you once we stop,” he replied, hoping that the fledglings did not notice he said nothing about their mahen. The fact was that he did not know what her plans were, especially after their argument.

Imrie pulled out his data pad and demanded Destin give him the location where he would end up.

“I will come and get you myself once we have settled Alaina and Paxx,” Akela stated, her expression telling him not to argue with her. Destin nodded, saying hurried farewells to his parents before sprinting to the open bay door and leaping into flight.

He was not exaggerating when he said he was late. He owed the neighbors many apologies when he arrived. They were kind, patient people but the stress of fleeing to safety could make anyone terse, especially when waiting on someone who delayed their safe departure.

The weight of his bag seemed heavier than before, which Destin was sure it was just in his mind. There were more individual fliers clogging the airways. With great care, he dodged a couple of near collisions before reaching the correct building. The bay door was open, and Destin pulled up from his dive to land on the edge… of an empty storage slot. He double checked the name and number to make sure he had arrived at the correct place. This was where he was supposed to meet up with the neighbors.

Destin stared at the bare floor, his mind stalled for a few precious seconds as he tried to comprehend what it meant. Again, he double checked the ID to make sure he was at the right location, and he was, but they were gone. They had left. He was only a few minutes late, but the bay was not even warm from the aircraft’s engine, so they had been gone much longer than he was late.

Had Dena cancelled his seat, thinking he would be travelling with her? He could not imagine the neighbors leaving without him. They were close friends of Destin’s and if they were leaving, they would have contacted him, and there were no waiting messages on the data pad. If Dena told them he did not need the seat, then why did she not say something to him? Did she forget since they had fought? Was—

Destin shook his head, trying to clear his mind. This was not the time to allow emotional turmoil to take over. He would broach the questions with her later, after he reached safety. He considered flying back to his parents’ bay, but they were probably gone already, and he could not waste the time. He would have to fly.

---

Author Bio

A two-time Rainbow Award recipient, Lexi has always been an avid reader and started reading (secretly) her mother's romances (the ones she was told not to touch) at a young age. She was the only teenager she knew of who would be grounded from reading. Later, with a pencil and a notebook, she wrote her own stories and shared them with friends because she loved to see their reactions. A Texas transplant, Lexi now kicks her boots up in North Carolina with her Yankee husband and her 80-pound puppy named after a vacuum cleaner.

Author Website: http://www.lexiander.com

Author Facebook (Personal): http://www.facebook.com/lexi.ander.9

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/Lexi-Ander-1808012509319412/

Author Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/LexiAnder1

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/lexi.ander.9/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6521302.Lexi_Ander

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/lexi-ander/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/lexi-ander/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lexi-Ander/e/B009PT22GM/

Blog Tour + Giveaway: Triumph's Ashes (The Cassidy Chronicles Vol. 5) by Adam Gaffen

Author Adam Gaffen and Other Worlds Ink visit with a promo stop for Triumph's Ashes (The Cassidy Chronicles Vol. 5)! Read more on the QUILTBAG space opera and check out the massive giveaway! Enter for a chance to win $100!

Adam Gaffen has a new LGBTQ+ space opera out, The Cassidy Chronicles volume 5: Triumph's Ashes And there's a $100 giveaway!

Viva la revolucion!

The Primus, Vasilia Newling, is facing her worst nightmares:

• A revolution on Luna.
• Titan and the Asteroids abandoning the Solarian Union.
• Defections from within her own government.

All because of those damned Cassidys!

But she's still as ruthless as ever.

And if Aiyana and Kendra thought she was playing dirty before? They're going to see how filthy she really can get.

There isn't room for both the Terran Federation and the Union.

This time, one is going down.

For good.

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon CAN | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Liminal Fiction | Smashwords

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Giveaway

Adam is giving away a $100 Restaurants.com gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47213/?

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Excerpt

Habitat Njord

“Commander? Aren’t you on your honeymoon?”

Commander Daniela Garcia-Kay stopped filling her coffee cup and to stare at the questioner.

“Ma’am,” she belatedly appended.

“Better, Rat,” Garcia-Kay said, finishing the pour. “And for your information, yes, I am, but I need to stay sharp.”

She added, in a much more conversational tone, “Boomer’s been after me as well. He says that he’s still trying to integrate with his new body and I should be flying him, so…”

Rat, Ensign (JG) Judith Bastin, grinned. The Epsilon-class AI’s installed in the Direwolf fighters could be nearly human in their personalities, if encouraged by their human counterparts. A good number of the pilots of Nymeria Squadron did so, reaping the benefits of the enhanced partnership, taking after the lead of their commander.

Daniela, as the first Direwolf pilot, had led the way. She’d investigated the interests the Admiral had in 20^th/21^stcentury ‘television’ and ‘movies’, eventually arriving at ‘Boomer’ as a good name for her AI. As a result, his personality tended to be cool, calculating, and confident, with a special knack for engineering his way around problems. His level-headedness complemented Daniela’s more aggressive flying style.

“I heard they salvaged your chair,” Rat said.

“They did,” agreed Daniela. “That was about all, though.”

Her face clouded briefly at the memory. Her prior Direwolf had been ruined by a mid-space collision with another fighter during an exercise in which the other pilot had lost her life. It was the first non-action casualty the squadron had faced and it still stung.

Rat picked up on her discomfort and tried to change the subject. “How’s Boomer doing? Does he like the new ship?”

“He appreciates the new capabilities, but keeps sending me messages about how things just aren’t quite ‘right’ with it. Which is why I’m here at oh six hundred instead of in bed with my husband,” she finished, raising her mug.

“Aye, ma’am,” said Rat, raising her half-empty mug in mock salute. “Do you need a wing? I’m scheduled for the mid-watch CAP, but I have a couple hours.”

“Thanks, Rat, I’m covered. Locksmith is going out with me.”

Rat nodded. Locksmith was the XO of the second Direwolf squadron under Lt. Commander Ashlyn Bontrager. Red Squadron was officially assigned to the TFS Endeavour, but only half the fighters could fit aboard at any one time for away missions if there would be a couple of the older Wolves attached for the duration. The other half remained at Njord and did drills until the Endeavour returned.

“Catch you later, Double Dip,” Rat said and strolled out.

She had to smile. For all that Starfleet was a military organization, the formality and rigidity which plagued longer-established militaries simply didn’t exist. Given the preferences of the Admiral, it probably never would.

Daniela spent the next few minutes with her thoughts before Locksmith arrived.

Lieutenant Lexie Marsh, recently promoted, was nearly a mirror image of Double Dip. She was just as tall and built in a similar, athletic manner. Her hair, which she wore in a single long braid, was dyed a pale green which set off her emerald eyes and dark skin. Her most prominent feature, though, was her smile. It was said in her division that as long as Locksmith was smiling you were doing well. If it flickered, though, you were in trouble. Nobody knew what would happen if it disappeared. Yet.

Today, it was in full force.

“Morning, Danni,” Locksmith said, already carrying her own mug.

“Morning Lexie,” Daniela answered around another sip. “Ready for today?”

“As soon as I finish my cacao.”

“You and Commander Cassidy,” Daniela chuckled. “What is it about that stuff?”

“I could ask you the same,” countered Locksmith. “Coffee, yuck.”

“Just for that I’m going to dust you,” Daniela said.

“Hello? We’re both flying the same bird?”

“Nope. I have the first of the Mark II’s.”

Instantly Locksmith was all business.

“I didn’t think they were going to be in production until next year! That’s why my girlfriend told me, and she should know; she works at HLC, testing.”

“She’s not wrong. But someone has to break them in before they start rolling them out, and since I have the most hours in Direwolves of any pilot in Starfleet, well, the decision was simple. Mine’s one of the two-seaters, too, a training model.”

“Is the scuttlebutt true?”

Daniela laughed. “I hope so! We’ll find out today anyways.”

Locksmith put down her mug, sloshing the contents onto the table, and stood. “What are we waiting for?”

Daniela took a final swallow and led the way to the bay. After they’d done the mandatory walkarounds and pre-flight checks they each climbed into their cockpits.

“About time,” grumped her AI as she settled in.

“It’s my honeymoon,” she grumped right back. “I’m permitted.”

“It’s all well and good for you, you can get out of the ship just by standing up. Me, it takes major mechanical surgery.”

“Sorry, Boomer. Admiral’s orders. I tried to delay the wedding but she wouldn’t allow it.”

“Hmmph.”

She could tell he was somewhat mollified, though, as they ran through the power-up checklists. They’d developed enough of a rapport over the previous months that they could do the tasks almost on automatic while holding a conversation.

“How does she feel?” Daniela asked now.

“It’s different,” Boomer said. “The basic systems are all the same, except where they aren’t. It’s tough to explain.”

“Anything I need to be concerned about? Anything radically different?”

“No. Most of the changes they made are incremental, evolutionary. Like the aiming mechanism on the lasers.”

“We can aim?”

“A little. About two degrees, but it’s enough so we can do some pinpoint shooting at longer ranges.”

“Awesome!”

“If you ask me, though, I’m most impressed with the new reactor, if it works.”

“What do you mean, ‘if it works’?”

“It’s a new design. The old reactor was a laser-pumped design, while the new one is a z-pinch. If it works the way it should, we ought to achieve increased thrust as well as higher power for the other systems.”

“How much increased thrust?”

“Up to 650 g.”

Daniela allowed herself a low whistle. The Mark 1 already had the highest acceleration of any sublight craft in any fleet, 500 g, and a skilled pilot/AI combination could squeeze an extra 10 g or 20 g performance. 650 g, though, was unheard-of.

“What will I feel?” she asked. She knew she could tap her implant to get the information, but one of the reasons she and Boomer were such an effective team was she treated him as a partner. Currently, at max accel, she felt 6 g, which was eight times more than the Federation standard aboard vessels and habitats. Her nanobots prevented the lower gravity from weakening her bones and muscles, but she’d been in Starfleet since the beginning. Three-quarter g felt normal now, hence her concern.

“You’ll love this. Five g.”

---

Author Bio

I was born in Maine, didn't live there for long before my parents figured out that it was too bloody cold and moved south, all the way to Massachusetts. Grew up there and in Connecticut, lived in Maryland and Indiana for a while before moving back to Maine. Lived there for twenty years before I, too, decided the winters were too long. Of course, where do you to get away from long winters? COLORADO! Naturally. Married to a wonderful, inspirational, supportive woman; between us we have five kids, five dogs, and five cats.

As for my writing, well, I've thrown a bunch out onto Amazon. There's a couple Sherlock Holmes stories, a few horror-ish shorts, and then you get to my longer books: Refuge, a time-traveling take on vampire stories, and The Cassidy Chronicles. Triumph's Ashes is the fifth book in the series and completes the Artemis War story arc.

Like I said, thanks for dropping in! You can find me on Allauthor.com, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and on my website www.cassidychronicles.com.This month, I'll be appearing on the Meet the Author Podcast/Vidcast on November 24th, so tune in and check it out! It's an hour of Cassidyverse talk and it's at https://indiebooksource.com/podcast/ I love interacting with fans, but be warned: I often add my fans into my books!

Author Website: https://cassidychronicles.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/adam.gaffen

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/AdamGaffenAuthor

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/adamgaffen/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6587896.Adam_Gaffen

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/adam-gaffen/

Author Amazon: https://smile.amazon.com/Adam-Gaffen/e/B009QMIW3K

Blog Tour + Giveaway: Time Paradox (Thumar Saga #2) by M. Timothy Murray

Author M. Timothy Murray and Other Worlds Ink share blog tour stop for space opera, Time Paradox! Discover more and enter in the Amazon gift card giveaway!

                                                  

M. Timothy Murray has a new space opera out: Time Paradox. And there's a giveaway!

The time crew are unexpectedly thrust six hundred years into Thumar’s past, where a planet wide plague is raging. These intrepid time travelers are predestined to find a cure. When they return to the future, they discover their actions dramatically changed their original timeline.

With help from Derak’s brother and the mysterious Time Sentinels of the universe, they set out across time, space, and dimension to fix their time paradox. Can they stop the space-time-continuum from tearing itself apart and destroying the known universe?

Amazon | iUniverse

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Giveaway

Timothy is giving away an Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47189/?

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Excerpt

Prologue

The large scorpion centered in a barbed circle glowed blood red on the back wall of the Supreme Council chamber. Imbedded computer screens illuminated the ominous faces of the council members. A single blinding white spotlight in front of the raised curved dais focused on the poor soul being interrogated in the center of the darkened room.

Number Three continued. “Commander Thompson, are you telling us this is all you found? What good are you and your men if this is all you return with? You’re useless, we can assign you a more appropriate mission.”

Charlie Thompson served the council for over two hundred years. He was their best assassin. He could infiltrate any government, corporation, or secured site, until now. This perplexed Charlie and infuriated the council which never accepted failure at any level.

“Number Three,” he choked out. “We exhausted all our resources and tortured everyone who had momentary contact with Derak Jamar. His immediate and extended family disappeared. Their files are closed. Not even our highly placed mole had the security clearance to view Jamar’s files. It’s as if his entire history never existed.”

Number Two addressed the commander. “What about his friend, Jack Morgan, and his family? We can get to him that way.”

“They disappeared too. Their files have the same security clearance. Our mole informed me she couldn’t spy any further without risking her cover.”

“Then what use do we have for this worthless slug?” Number Three demanded.

“None, Sir. She and her entire family met a slow, painful end, one of my more creative works of art. I brought her deputy into the fold with a little persuasion. He should prove more useful,” commander Thompson reported.

“Let’s hope so, for your sake, Commander,” Number Two threatened.

Number One spoke. “Commander, did you bring back any useful information?”

“Yes, Number One. There are three intergalactic corporations that have equal security measures. They have Derak Jamar’s fingerprints all over them. He is a dangerous enemy; it is reported he single-handedly took out a battalion of Kek in the Chambar Valley Offensive. It is rumored that Master Li trained him.”

“That traitor!” Number One exploded. “I have a special death reserved for him. We must tread cautiously with these two. Find a hole in Jamar’s security. Don’t fail us this time, Commander. Dismissed!”

The commander left the dreaded chambers and made his way to April’s Pleasure Palace. Maybe he could catch up with his buddy, Dr. Vander.

After the chamber doors closed behind the commander, Number One went off. “Is that what we’re down to? Pansies and cowards who have forgotten all the good we’ve done for them? I’ll show them all! Number Nine, make sure the commander’s wife dies in premature childbirth, along with the child. That will send the proper message.”

“Isn’t that extreme, Number One? He has served us…”

“Number Nine! Would you like to keep your seat?”

“Yes, Number One,” he choked out. “I’ll see to the arrangements.”

“If the known galaxy doesn’t want to acknowledge our honorable intentions and peaceful salutations, we must give them something to pay attention to. Our goal is the same, a unified galaxy ruled by our values of fairness and judgment. Who could ask for a better arrangement?”

The Planetary Survey

Derak commanded the planetary survey mission, Jack was the pilot. Shesain, Shenar, Dr. Bundett, Thumar’s leading herbal doctor, and Seamus McGrew, a planetary geologist from Earth, rounded out the crew. Jack laid in the course to the first set of coordinates.

While on the flight controls under Jack’s watchful eye, Shesain became curious about a section he had not taught her. “What does this do?” she asked, pointing to a yellow touch pad with a warning light flashing red.

“Don’t touch that.” Jack said. Damn techs were supposed to disengage that time-control panel before we left. Why is it still on? “That’s part of the time travel circuit.”

Before Jack could reach the control to disable it, Shesain’s hand slid in the direction of the yellow touch pad. Derak moved to stop her, but her fingers brushed the pad. Everyone in the ship froze. Derak, in mid-stride, felt queasy. As the crew recovered, Derak’s momentum carried him forward, and he touched the pad before hitting the floor hard. He got up and removed Shesain from the pilot’s seat. Jack took the science station.

“What did I do?” Shesain asked in shock.

“I don’t know yet!” Derak growled.

The indicator upon entering hyperspace is a clockwise swirling of stars in an inverted cone shape. This tells the Captain and navigator that they entered an artificially created wormhole. The wormhole they entered rotated counterclockwise.

“What did I do?” Shesain asked. Her voice quivered.

“I don’t know yet. I have to check the navigation computer,” Derak answered, in a consoling tone this time.

“Jack, what are you seeing?”

“The readings are crazy! Wait, the chronometer is running backwards! We’re going back in time, and I don’t know how far.”

“Is the ship recording this? We’ll need the data to return,” Derak said.

“From the start,” Jack responded.

“We should stop soon,” Derak said.

They watched in horror as the cone of earth and sky rotated counterclockwise. It slowed down, and the crew went through the same transitional sensations as they had in the beginning. When they entered normal space again, they held their breath as they hovered over a similar, yet unfamiliar feeling landscape.

“Put her in D-gen, Jack, we don’t want to be seen. We must not cause a time paradox. There is no way to know how this will affect the future we originated from, or the present timeline.” Derak ordered.

“D-gen activated. We should land and access the situation.”

“Excellent idea, Jack. Set her down in a concealed area.”

Jack landed The Shesain in a well-protected meadow outside a sizable village and shut down the engines. They all breathed a sigh of relief. Jack and Derak turned to Shesain sitting in a corner hiding her head.

“I told you NOT to touch that pad!” Jack yelled at Shesain.

“I…I…didn’t mean to. It…it…was an accident,” she answered, breaking down into tears.

Derak stopped Jack before he could go any further. He sat down next to Shesain and put his arm around her as she buried her head into his shoulder. “My dear, Chimera, when a flight instructor tells you no, they mean it.”

Derak turned towards the others. “We need to know how far back we travelled.” He lifted Shesain’s chin; smiled and kissed her. She wiped her eyes and sniffled before looking up at the others. “Shesain, you and Shenar look up the histories while Jack and I figure out how far back in time we traveled. Seamus and Dr. Bundett help the girls out, will you?” They nodded and led Shenar and Shesain to the computer station.

Jack and Derak looked at each other and shook their heads. After consulting the ship’s chronometer and computer, they time-traveled back to the year 1814.

---

Author Bio

Tim lives in Nevada City, California, with his wife, Ronna Lee Joseph, and their scrappy cat, Harley. He is involved with several writers groups.

Besides documenting the adventures of Thumar, he writes short stories about talking animals and rude Christmas trees.

Author Website: https://www.thumar1.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/tim.murray.127

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/thumaruniverse

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/thumaruniverse1

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram/thumarpublications/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/66519409-tim-murray

Blog Tour + Giveaway: Tiny Planet Filled With Liars by Stephen M.A.

Stephen M.A. and Other Worlds Ink visit on the Tiny Planet Filled With Liars blog tour! Discover more about the space opera and enter in the $20 Amazon gift card giveaway!

 

QSFer Stephen M.A. has a new diverse military space opera out: "Tiny Planet Filled With Liars." And there's a giveaway!

An armada that never dies. A society on the verge.

Every 30 days, Fleet Eternal arrives to surround the planet and lay siege to a complacent populace. Its armaments are unbeatable, its numbers uncountable, but the terrifying assault has one fatal flaw: a mere .01% loss in combat strength triggers automatic retreat and reset.

For decades, the Unified Fiduciary Dominion has relied on the Board and its military contractors to defend the planet and maintain the knife's edge of survival. Now, riven by greed and false confidence, those corporate lords have abandoned their duty in pursuit of political power.

The tactics of the Alpha Vector Defense Corps have served for generations—so why are they suddenly faltering? And why do Board members seem increasingly unconcerned with the tenuous state of the system? Armed with the exclusive authority to investigate, one fussy ex-military reporter must partner with a generous Madame to chase down the story behind a string of failed battles—and pray they find answers before the districts are turned to ash.

As casualties rise, The Interviewer faces deadly resistance ... and discovers a disturbing conspiracy at the highest ranks.

The world's security is careening toward disaster, and this whistleblower is running out of time. But when every answer seems to bring more questions, one reminder guides the way:

Don't come here looking for truth. This is just a pack of lies and the end of the world.

A genre-busting dramedy & political satire thriller in military sci-fi clothing.

Universal Buy Link

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Giveaway

Stephen is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47161/?

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Excerpt

2

Bartimus Caldwell

Onyx Hoteliers LTD., Suite 7382, Courtesy Level Omega Plus Royale

[Interviewer]

First, let me say welcome to the suite.

[Bartimus Caldwell]

Uh. Thank you.

[Interviewer]

It’s courtesy level Omega Plus Royale, you know.

[Bartimus Caldwell]

Okay.

…

Uh, I mean, that’s great. Very impressive.

[Int.]

Thank you. You need to purchase 2,000 units of Class A shares just to get the invitation to apply for a reservation.

[B.C.]

I see.

[Int.]

Mm-hmm.

[B.C.]

I’ll … uh … I’ll look into it, for sure, though I don’t know what I’d do with a room this fancy on my own.

[Int.]

You are Bartimus Caldwell.

[B.C.]

Yes, sir.

[Int.]

Don’t call me that. I’ve been discharged for years.

[B.C.]

I’m sorry, si—I mean, I’m sorry. I won’t.

[Int.]

State your position, rank, and assignment.

[B.C.]

Yeoman Sensor Scry, Grade III, Alpha Vector Defense of the Unified Fiduciary Dominion.

[Int.]

State your duties, in the most simple and clear terms you are able to.

[B.C.]

Uh … I coordinate the intake and regressive analysis of real-time sensor data to monitor the mid-threat-time development of incursions in the Alpha Vector, when under the command of UFD Central Board Oversight.

[Int.]

…

You’re a watchman and analyst.

[B.C.]

Uh … correct, sir.

[Int.]

How long have you been enlisted?

[B.C.]

I … was assigned commission four years ago.

[Int.]

You’re not volunteer enlisted?

[B.C.]

…

No, sir.

[Int.]

Why are you even allowed in the Operations Center, in that case? Or have those regulations been changed?

[B.C.]

I don’t—uh … I was not given such information, sir. Just the assignment.

…

I’ve been told my predecessor retired out of her indenture due to debilitating stress. Uh … several predecessors, actually. For the same reason.

[Int.]

I see.

[B.C.]

Yes.

[Int.]

Are you stressed, Bartimus?

[B.C.]

Yes, sir.

[Int.]

Bartimus.

[B.C.]

Yes, sir.

[Int.]

Stop calling me sir.

3

Bartimus Caldwell

Alpha Vector Operations Center

DURING incursions Bartimus Caldwell often feels chained to his desk.

Though incursion has initiated in the late afternoon (within a Unified Time Stamp of plus or minus 30 seconds) for the last twenty-six-and-one-half years, all personnel Grades V and below are still required to take stations no later than 0600 on the morning of.

Bartimus hates waking up so early, which may be why he avoided commission for so many years. It is to his great misfortune that he’s a whiz kid with sensor analysis, and inevitably discovered that Central Board Oversight had been made aware of his talents when he was abruptly recruited (then indentured) for a 20-year service stint four years ago, precisely two weeks after his 31^st birthday. At the time he was gainfully (and happily) employed in the remote sexual screening industry, but that’s not relevant to this portion of his story.

Bartimus Caldwell’s desk, which binds him so readily, is located on the upper balcony of the Alpha Vector Operations Center, when under the command of Central Board Oversight.

This room represents the most exclusive and highly classified product catalogs of no less than three dozen military contractors. However, those who’ve bothered to learn as much know that in reality only two conglomerates perch atop the corporate meta-structure which hides its many tendrils behind each of those contractors.

In some professions, as you know, acknowledging this easily verifiable duopoly is quite literally illegal. For instance, service personnel are forbidden to acknowledge or discuss, in any capacity, any information that might insinuate that the dozens of military contractors working with Central Board Oversight are not in fact plucky small businesses that have been rightfully rewarded with thick and hefty revenue streams by virtue of patriotism and good old-fashioned UFD entrepreneurship.

Bartimus Caldwell adheres to this policy with unerring slavishness and would never even think of speaking ill toward the contractors. I know this because he has assured me of it several times.

When Alpha Vector Defense is not under the command of Central Board Oversight, Bartimus Caldwell’s desk is in the auxiliary hangar, packed in alongside the other 382 service members in the unit. In that venue, each such member enjoys no less than two square meters of personal space in which to perform their duties, of which their auxiliary desk takes up no more than one-point-two-five square meters.

Bartimus Caldwell bubbles with gratitude toward the military for providing this generously outfitted working space to its service members. I know this because he has assured me of it several times.

However, this was an incursion week, which meant that Board members would be in attendance for their usual round of post-contact media conferences and photo opportunities, which meant Bartimus Caldwell and his unit were stationed in the Alpha Vector Operations Center, showcasing the finest product catalogs of the military contractors owned by said members of the Board.

From his desk in the front ring on the upper balcony of the Alpha Vector Operations Center, Bartimus enjoys an unobstructed view of the entire room. Behind him on the octagonal balcony, which encircles the entire outer wall of the Operations Center, two more layers of desks and control consoles are laid out, fully staffed with unit members of Grades II and I.

The bidding wars to manufacture the desks used on the balcony have been quite fierce in recent years, and a new contract seems to be assigned every other month. Bartimus has grown quite used to arriving for OC duty and discovering a brand new desk in front of his seat, though thankfully, after one long stretch of genuine UX insanity, a regulatory design decree was issued that now ensures the general layout and functionality of each new desk model is largely the same as the last.

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Author Bio

Stephen M.A. is an ex-film student, Great Recession survivor, and first-generation tribal descendant originating from a reservation in big sky country. He now lives and writes in the northeastern United States.

Author Website: https://www.smapublishing.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/SMAPublishing

Blog Tour: Virasana Empire: Dr. Laurent Book 1: The PV-3 Mutagen by Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus

Authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, along with Other Worlds Ink, host today's tour stop for Virasana Empire: Dr. Laurent Book 1: The PV-3 Mutagen! Read more about the science fiction story today!

 

Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus have a new sci fi/space opera book out, Virasana Empire: Dr. Laurent Book 1: "The PV-3 Mutagen."

As a history scholar and courier for the secretive Circle of Thales, Rene Laurent is a man of many talents - none of them lending themselves much to a life of adventure.

But when a chance meeting with a young, idealistic Belligra priest drags him into a wild quest to keep a dangerous mutagen off the streets of Floor, his curiosity gets the better of him. Between monsters both human and man-made, he realises that maybe fieldwork is more of his game than he had ever thought possible...

Written by Rainbow-Award-winning authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, 'The PV-3 Mutagen' is a colourful non-romance sci-fi adventure set in the wildly diverse 'Virasana Empire', and the first novel of the 'Doctor Laurent' series.

Warnings: Not a romance. Harsh setting, but hopeful.

Amazon US | Amazon CAN | Amazon UK | iBooks | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords

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Excerpt

Chapter 1 – Info Brokers

There were five of them. At least, five that Rene was aware of.

He had spotted the three following him when he took the escalator to the bottom floor of the mall. He had originally planned to take the tube train to Cherry Hills, but instead he turned into the access tunnel that led up to the street, trying to shake them off. Judging by the two who were now cutting him off just ahead, that had been a bad idea. The tunnel they were in was sufficiently removed from the cheap glitz of the mall to be only dimly lit, and the only other person here was a woman pushing a shopping cart, purposefully hurrying away from the developing confrontation.

A quick look around showed Rene there weren't any convenient emergency doors he could slip through, either. He was in trouble.

At least, they didn't seem to be professional mercenaries, just some gangers, though they moved with too much purpose to be out simply to mug him. And no ganger deserving of their colours would mug a scruffy street rat like him, anyway. To them, he had to look like he didn't have anything worth the trouble, as much a carefully crafted facade as laziness – he liked his comfortable rags a lot, thank you very much. So what did these particular thugs want from him?

And more importantly, how to get rid of them?

He was well aware that he didn't stand a chance against them in a fight. Combat skills were at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in. Also, the mall was too cheap to have any sort of camera surveillance. It didn't even have security guards though Rene doubted any would have come running if they had existed. He wasn't a valued customer, and as long as the gangers didn't make too much of a mess, no one would care.

The best course of action seemed to be to play the helpless victim and let them rough him up a little. It wasn't like they would manage to inflict any lasting damage, anyway.

He had come to that conclusion when one of the thugs, whom Rene mentally labelled their 'leader', shoved him against the wall.

Rene turned to face them, clutching the stack of folders he was carrying to his chest protectively, trying to present a credible picture of being scared. The other thugs had formed a semicircle around him and their boss. Judging by the nasty grins of his ambushers, it wasn't very hard to fool them.

“Gimme that,” the leader snarled and grabbed the folders.

They held the weekly update on the topside situation in this sector of Floor. Nothing too important, and certainly not irreplaceable. Rene had picked them up a few minutes ago at the office of the info broker the Circle of Thales was currently employing. He congratulated himself on not yet having picked up the datacrystal with the off-planet reports from the Beetle Shack under Cherry Hills. He had planned to do that on the way back down before having a lunch of lava beetle while he was there.

He let go of the folders with a strangled whine and cowered.

“Hank's Beehive is off-limits,” the leader sneered, “didn't you get the memo? He is about to shut down.”

So that was what this was all about. The info broker Rene had just visited had been in a turf war with another info broker two malls down the street for a while, but apparently, things were heating up. Not something he cared to get involved in even though Hank was a decent guy. Well, make that a decent guy for Floor.

“Can't have that idiot handing out charity, can we? Not the Floorian thing to do, eh?” The leader clearly wasn't expecting an answer as he rammed his fist into Rene's stomach.

The punch drove the air out of his lungs and hurt like a bitch. Or rather, it hurt for the few seconds it took his body to repair the damage. Rene crumpled to the ground in a heap. If he looked sufficiently hurt, they would hopefully leave him alone quickly. And not search him. If they tried to take his phone, he would have to do something, though he admittedly had no idea what.

“You understand me, little shit? You stay away from now on!”

“Hey! Stop that!”

A voice ringing out loud and clear in the narrow tunnel rudely interrupted the leader's little speech.

Rene glanced up through his long hair hanging in his face and did a double-take. The tunnel leading back towards the mall was almost filled out by a tall figure in heavy, plate armour, wielding both a broadsword and a fucking tower shield so large he could completely hide behind it. The symbol on his surcoat and shield was unmistakable – Temple Belligra, the Fist of the Church. It was about the last faction Rene wanted to have get involved in this minor scuffle.

Priests were infamous for poking their noses where they didn't belong. Luckily, they were rare on Floor. Yes, they had a few Verata, but they mostly remained inside their Fort Phosphoros Monastery. The occasional Jansahar only paid attention to the local flock who worshipped at the small shrines they kept all over the planet. Both groups were easy enough to evade for someone who didn't need supernaturally talented people scanning them and finding out they were an unregistered psion.

But seriously, a Belligra? There were no faithful in need of protection here on Floor, mostly because there were no faithful here. Floor prided itself with being the most secular planet of the empire, and it was a reputation hard-won.

But apparently, this particular Belligra was set on rescuing him.

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Author Bio

We are Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, a couple currently living our happily ever after in the very heart of Germany, under the stern but loving surveillance of our cat.

Both of us are voracious but picky readers, we love telling stories and drinking tea, good food and the occasional violent movie. Together, we write novels of adventure and romance, hoping to share a little of our happiness with our readers.

An artist by heart, Beryll was writing stories even before she knew what letters were. As easily inspired as she is frustrated, her own work is never good enough (in her eyes). A perfectionist in the best and worst sense of the word at the same time and the driving creative force of our duo.

An entertainer and craftsman in his approach to writing, Osiris is the down-to-earth, practical part of our duo. Broadly interested in almost every subject and skill, with a sunny mood and caring personality, he strives to bring the human nature into focus of each of his stories.

Author Website: http://www.brackhaus.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/people/Osiris-Brackhaus/100011014541510

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/brackhaus

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brackhaus/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6427435.Osiris_Brackhaus

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Osiris-Brackhaus/e/B00IVTRO2E