A MelanieM Review: Sūnder (Darksoul #1) by Lexi Ander

Rating: 5 stars out of 5

If Sūnder Alārd had been born female he would have been cherished for being faeborn—born with magick—and his birth celebrated. Instead, his L’fÿn mother insisted on his death. Only his Panthrÿn father’s desperate escape through the forest saved him. With most Chándariāns uneasy in his presence due to rumors he is doomed to become a darksoul, and unlikely to find a mate because of it, Sunder has nevertheless carved out an honorable existence as a warrior and commander. Serving as bodyguard and chaperone for the Chándariān prince, Sūnder accompanies his charge to the annual mating festival on Earth, and when the prince is injured, he can’t help but be fascinated by the tongue-tied nurse who attends them at the hospital.

At sixteen years of age, Gabriel St. Baptista came home to discover his parents had taken off into space, leaving him behind to look after himself. Gabe never recovered from the unexpected desertion, and keeps everyone at arm’s length to avoid being abandoned again. However, after meeting Sūnder, Gabe finds himself unable to resist the bond between them and breaks all of his carefully crafted rules to spend time with the Chándariān, regardless of the fact that Sūnder will soon leave. Scared by what he feels for Sūnder, Gabe can only hope his heart won’t be too broken when Sūnder returns to Chándaria.

But deceit and treachery is all around them, and when Gabe saves Sūnder’s life, it sets off a chain of events that could either tear Gabe and Sūnder apart or give them both exactly what they want.

I’m totally captivated by the fantasy world and characters of Sūnder (Darksoul #1) by Lexi Ander. Finishing at wee morning hours, I lay there lost in the relationship of Gabe and Sūnder, the amazing resolution of the saga that had unfolded through the night hours, all the beings that I had met and fallen madly in love with and knew I was not ready to leave any of them behind.

Ander has created such a deeply layered, diverse universe for the Darksoul series. There are a multitude of beings, hybrids, mixtures of cultures, planets, religions, levels of soldiers, magics and technologies interwoven with history, past wrongs and current politics (galactic and racial). That’s a lot of elements to juggle but Lexi Ander does a remarkable job of it while keeping the tension and suspense tight and the romance between our two main characters hot and everything you love to read.

Yes, you can have a remarkable foundation but without the characters, the heart of the story, you have nothing. Here the author truly delivers. Gabe is one that almost breaks your heart. Abandoned by his parents inexplicably when he’s in his teens, he has but one friend in his life, Ronan, whose family took him in when his parents left. Now grown, Ronan remains his best and perhaps only friend who helps him recover from things like his latest boyfriend breaking up with him and going off planet. Gabe’s that endearing mixture of vulnerability, kindness, and intelligence that draws you in immediately. Then he meets Sūnder, the faeborn with his own anguished past and pained present, one who smells sooo good, and I’m so connected to this pair that the thought never occurs to me to put down the story.

Told from Sūnder’s perspective as well as Gabe’s, you understand what Sūnder has gone through his entire life, being on the outside, never being acknowledged for who he really is. Like Gabe, he too carries his own family induced pain, lessened only by the love of his adoptive mother Princess Válora (adore her too). Ander lets both Gabe and Sūnder become true partners to each other, working through and supporting each other. It’s such a joy to read, especially with all the amazing storylines going on around them that adds to the suspense.

There’s so much more I’m not going into here. A Jade forest, Guardians, moving trees, battles…this story is a feast on every level! I just love it so! And there’s the promise of more. I especially want Ronan and Akira’s story so I hope the author is listening.

If you love fantasy, run immediately get this book! And prepare to fall in love just as I did. It’s going right on our STRW Fantasy Rec List!

Cover art by Kirby Crow is perfect for the character and book.

Buy Links: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iTunes

Book Details:

ebook, 2
Published September 4th 2017 by Lexi Ander
Edition LanguageEnglish
SeriesDarksoul #1

On Tour: E.M. Hamill on Writing, and ‘Dali’, (author interview, excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Dali

Author: E.M. Hamill

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 8/7/17

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 85200

Genre: science fiction, space travel, third gender, interspecies sex, kidnapping, genderfluid, space opera

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♦︎

Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host E.M. Hamill here today. Thank you for taking time to sit in our author interview chair. The author also brought an excerpt and giveaway. Don’t forget to check both out after the interview!

♦︎

~ Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words E.M Hamill Interview ~

Do you write on a typewriter, computer, dictate or longhand?

Computer. It keeps up between my brain and my fingers better than pen. I used to do data entry and I type really fast.

How long on average does it take you to write a book?

Six months for the first draft of a full length novel, usually. You can’t rush editing, though. I average about a year before it’s ready to try and publish.

Do you ever get writer’s block? If so, how do you deal with it?

Oh, gods, yes…just keep plugging away, is all I can do. Even a few words a day is better than none. Eventually it cracks. I may start an entirely new section just to get flowing again. Worst case scenario, walk away from it for a week or so and then come back.

What are your thoughts on good/bad reviews?

Writing is such a subjective thing. There are books I disliked, which were beautifully written and are someone else’s absolute favorite books. A review is simply the manifestation of personal taste. When someone’s taste coincides with mine and they love the story I’ve told, it’s a warm and wonderful thing. A bad review can really crush my ego, but if it’s constructive, I try to take those things into account.

What is your favorite motivational phrase?

Be the change you want to see in the world.

What is your favorite quote?

“We are the music makers,

And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

And sitting by desolate streams;—

World-losers and world-forsakers,

On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers

Of the world for ever, it seems. – Arthur O’Shaughnessy”

Synopsis

Dalí Tamareia has everything—a young family and a promising career as an Ambassador in the Sol Fed Diplomatic Corps. Dalí’s path as a peacemaker seems clear, but when their loved ones are killed in a terrorist attack, grief sends the genderfluid changeling into a spiral of self-destruction.

Fragile Sol Fed balances on the brink of war with a plundering alien race. Their skills with galactic relations are desperately needed to broker a protective alliance, but in mourning, Dalí no longer cares, seeking oblivion at the bottom of a bottle, in the arms of a faceless lover, or at the end of a knife.

The New Puritan Movement is rising to power within the government, preaching strict genetic counseling and galactic isolation to ensure survival of the endangered human race. Third gender citizens like Dalí don’t fit the mold of this perfect plan, and the NPM will stop at nothing to make their vision become reality. When Dalí stumbles into a plot threatening changelings like them, a shadow organization called the Penumbra recruits them for a rescue mission full of danger, sex, and intrigue, giving Dalí purpose again.

Risky liaisons with a sexy, charismatic pirate lord could be Dalí’s undoing—and the only way to prevent another deadly act of domestic terrorism.

Excerpt

Dalí
E.M. Hamill © 2017
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Human beings are assholes. I should know. I’d become one in the last few months.

You’d think the near extinction of our entire species after the pandemics and global poisoning our last world war inflicted might let us all pull together. Even with galactic war breathing down our necks, when almost everyone realized the human race constituted less of a threat to each other than some of the other things out there, we continued to be dicks.

Those attitudes started problems—in particular, Europan attitudes, of the New Puritan variety. I no longer possessed the self-control or sufficient fucks to avoid adding fuel to their fire.

His voice floated over the excited din of the crowd and the pregame show on the holographic screens above the bar.

“Abomination.”

I sighed and turned my head. The Team Europa-jacketed hulk next to me exuded a cloud of loathing against my empathic nets. I raised one eyebrow at him.

“Really? You can’t come up with anything more original after fifteen minutes of shit-talking?” The conversation behind me started as a diatribe against the rally for third-gender rights, held outside the arena and glimpsed on the main holo screen. I didn’t pay attention to either until the comments got louder and were meant for my ears.

“Faggot.”

“How very twentieth century of you.” I downed another of the six shots the robotic bartender dispensed in front of me. I wasn’t looking for trouble, only anesthetic. Outside, a cluster of media bots interviewing star athletes had driven me into the bar to hide. The presence of mechanized paparazzi still unsettled me. I didn’t want them in my face.

The annual Sol Series tournament games between Mars and Europa bordered on legendary for their savagery. No one took rugby as seriously as a gritty Martian colonist or a repressed New Puritan, and the bar overflowed with both, waiting for the station’s arena to open. Spectators gathered around us in the bar, drawn by the promise of a fight, glittering eyes fixed on us. My empathic senses drowned in their excitement and fear, even with the numbing effects of synthetic alcohol.

He invaded my personal space and leaned closer, face centimeters from mine. His breath carried a trace of mint and steroid vapors. Great. A huffer, his molecules all hyped-up on testosterone. He stood over a head taller than me, about twenty-five kilos heavier. His fists would do damage. His minions stood at either side, more meat than smarts. Neither spoke. Their mouths hung open while he harassed me, and I expected shuttle flies to crawl out at any time.

“You’re nothing but an A-sex freak.”

“Better. Still lacks originality.” I threw back the last shot. “How about androgynous freak? Hermaphrodite? No, those words are probably too big for you.”

The titter of laughter from the crowd only pissed him off. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Technically, I can’t. But I can fuck anybody else in this room. Can you?”

Shocked laughter rose from the circle of spectators. The guy clenched his fists and flexed his muscles. I continued, “Do I scare you?” I swiveled on the stool to face him and changed posture, crossing my legs in demure modesty. My voice rose into a husky, suggestive alto as I leaned one elbow on the bar. “Or do you want to find out what’s under my kilt?”

I hit a nerve. His eyes went blank, black, and his rage flooded over my senses. The crowd gasped and took a step back. Minion One caught his rising fist and spoke. “Jon, don’t you know who…”

Jon’s lip curled. “It’s an atrocity. It should have been killed at birth.”

“I prefer the term changeling.” I stood, and the circle around us got wider. The potent mix of hormones surged through my bloodstream as they altered my chemical makeup and bulked strategic upper body muscles. I let a cold smile form on my lips and dropped into a Zereid martial arts stance. Jon took half a step back as I became more definitively male in ways he recognized. “Oh, go ahead and hit me, by all means. A good fight is almost as good as sex.”

“Break it up.”

The crowd parted into nervous brackets with security’s arrival. Caniberi lumbered into the midst of the circle with the boneless roll space-born started to get after generations in orbit. He cast a sour eye in my direction.

“Dalí, why is it always you?”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

The constable growled at me. He turned to Jon. “You can’t play in the tournament if I throw you in the brig for violence. Move out.”

Jon stared at me a minute longer. The threat of not getting to beat the hell out of some hedonistic Martians made him reconsider. He and the minions moved away, but he threw one more sentence in my face like a javelin.

“You’ll be alone, changeling.”

The truth in his words knifed through me all the way to my gut and cut me deeper than any microsteel blade. “I’ll be waiting.”

Caniberi squinted at me as the crowd began to disperse. “Dalí, do I need to talk with the Captain?”

“No, sir. Leave my father out of this.” He’d dealt with enough from me already. My mother was now away on the diplomatic mission I’d been suspiciously—but rightly—deemed unfit to assume. Without Mom there to buffer the uncomfortable presence of my grief between us, Dad was lost.

“One of these days you’re going to push the wrong buttons and end up hurt, or worse. Some things the medical officer can’t fix.” His gaze softened. “Drinking and getting the shit beaten out of you won’t bring them back.”

“I’m well aware of that, sir.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. One of the best officers on the station, Caniberi had known me a little over a decade, and he never hesitated to kick my ass if I deserved it, no matter what gender I chose at the moment. This time, he just stared at me with an odd expression. His pity broke in tepid surges against my senses.

“Get out of here. I don’t want to arrest you again.”

I turned and left the bar. With the bots still hovering outside, I ducked my head to foil their facial recognition apps and fought my way upstream from the arena.

The shakes hit me in the aftermath of the hormone flood. The synthetic alcohol in my system warred with my normalizing chem levels and sour nausea threatened. I grabbed one of the rails lining the corridor and took several shuddering breaths as my muscles cramped, rearranged, and settled back into the lean, sexless frame where I am most at home.

The crowd jostled around me and headed toward the game. My empathic nets buzzed dully with their anticipation and excitement, but the sense of being watched pushed at the back of my mind. A familiar presence tripped a memory and an emotion.

The watcher knew me.

I turned my head. The Zereid made his way toward me, head and shoulders above everyone else, long, muscular limbs wading with passive grace through a river of human bodies as the crowd shifted for him. An eddy of cautious glances swirled and vanished downstream.

Oily quicksilver eyes without lids narrowed, their shape signifying the equivalent of a smile. His resonant voice buzzed in my ears. “He is the size of a cargo bot, you know. Even the arts we learned can’t change gravity. He might kill you.”

“I won’t let it go that far.” I shrugged. I actually hoped I’d bitten off more than I could swallow this time.

But the presence of my childhood friend undid me. A lump rose in my throat, pressure in my head, and I closed the distance between us. He gathered me in against cool flesh. I was locked in arms capable of crushing a human like a piece of foil but which held me with careful tenderness. Against his enormous chest, I felt like a small child, even though in developmental terms, Gor and I are the same age. His concern brushed my mind with affectionate familiarity.

“I see you, Dalí,” he murmured. “I mourn with you.”

I breathed in the scent of Zereid. Gor smelled of his homeworld—rain and earth and copper clung to his leathery turquoise skin and short, downy fur even in absentia. Homesickness washed over me.

I’d lived on Zereid most of my life. My mother, Marina Urquhart, served as ambassador for fifteen years. Dad’s career required he return to Sol Fed, and rather than separate our family, Mom resigned her appointment. My differences were clear, even to my third-gender mother, but there, we were aliens. I wondered what it would be like to have more friends who blinked.

When we got back to our own kind, I found out I was still an alien.

Gor pulled away. In the tarnished silver of his eyes, like antique mirrors, my unkempt reflection stared back at me. His dismay at my mental and physical state, impossible to miss, sighed against my mind.

“How did you hear?” I said.

“Your mother. “

“Of course.”

His head cocked. “I tried to come sooner, but the travel permissions into the colonies are daunting.”

“No, I understand.” I wanted to sit and talk with Gor. I eyed the bar, but couldn’t go back in there yet. “Come on. We can go to Dad’s quarters. He’ll be on the bridge.” My own cramped space wouldn’t accommodate Gor’s height or his bulk.

We squeezed into the private lift and rode up to the command deck. My thumbprint opened the door to the Captain’s suite, and Gor made a sound of wonder as he ducked through the port.

Three levels of transparent alloy shielding overlooked the U-curve of Rosetta Station. Shuttles buzzed in and out of bays like honeybees in the hydroponics domes, ferrying passengers to huge starliners docked on the outer limbs.

“An inspiring view.” Gor gazed out the window.

Ochre planet-shine from Jupiter’s face illuminated the room, the swirling storms in the gas giant’s atmosphere familiar to me now. I never found them beautiful, only an echo of the chaos in my head. I dropped into one of the chairs facing the viewport.

Gor eased himself into the seat opposite me. “You’re in crisis, Dalí.”

I couldn’t hide anything from him. Even if I wanted to, he was a telepath; his empathic senses much more attuned than my own modest abilities. Our friendship spanned far too many years, our trust well established. Lying to him would betray our oath of crechemates, a Zereid custom similar to old Earth tradition of blood brothers.

“Today would be the second anniversary of our wedding.” I stared at my hands. I still wore a ring on each of them, the ones Gresh and Rasida gave me.

“I remember. The love between you and your mates deserves celebration.”

Triad marriages with two members of the same sex and one of the opposite were common. The female population had not rebounded as fast as the male. But mine was the first triad marriage to include a changeling spouse under the new laws we helped to bring about. The legislation was both praised and vilified by hundreds of other citizens while we exchanged vows beneath the domes of the lunar capitol. My parents, Gresh’s mother, and Gor celebrated with us. Rasida’s mother refused to attend the wedding of her only daughter.

The three of us had been inseparable, invincible. Without them, I staggered, incomplete.

Our child would have been three months old now.

“Don’t say it.”

Gor’s eyes elongated in confusion. “What?”

“That they wouldn’t want me to be like this.”

“I did not come here to admonish you for grieving.”

I gave a short laugh. “What did you come here to scold me for?”

“For ceasing to live. Abandoning the larger destiny for which you trained.”

“Ambassador?” I dug a vape out of the pocket of my coat and thumbed the switch, inhaling illegal chemicals deep into my lungs. His gentle reproach against my empathic nets rebuked me without a word.

“You were sure of your calling as a peacemaker six months ago.” Zereid reverence toward conciliation is, ironically, unforgiving and unbending.

“I was certain of a lot of things then.” I exhaled a cloud of spicy mist. If any of the scent remained, I’d catch hell later for vaping in Dad’s quarters.

“There are always those who work against peace, even in their own hearts. As you are doing now.”

“I don’t know if I believe in peace anymore.”

“Because you do not possess it.”

“Stop feeding me platitudes, brother.”

He spread six-fingered hands wide. “What would you have me do? Tell me. Your pain is mine to share, beloved friend. Allow me to help you. Your rage is fearsome but undirected. You point it at yourself.”

“I was supposed to die, not them.” I cursed the terrorists who missed their target by eight minutes. When I decided not to address the media bots and chose instead to hold a private farewell with my family, I put myself ahead of schedule. I should have died with them. Even though the bastards failed to kill me, they destroyed me.

“Come home.” Gor waited for me to answer. I didn’t. He continued. “Madam Ambassador thinks Zereid would be a place of healing for you. You can study at the temple with me again, be teacher and student. This year’s crop of younglings is a challenge.” His vocal pipes fluted in laughter. “As we were.”

“That isn’t much of an incentive.” A grin tried to tug at the corners of my mouth, stiff and out of practice with the expression. “I’ll think about it.”

“Will you?” His doubt hovered between us.

The port slid open again and my father thundered in—Captain Paul Tamareia—“The Captain” to everyone on the station, even me at times. I stood at automatic attention, swaying a little. Gor rose too.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “And turn that goddamned vape off.”

I complied. “A misunderstanding, sir.”

“Misunderstanding, my ass. Six shots of the synthetic piss that passes for whiskey says it wasn’t.” He turned to Gor and bowed. “Welcome aboard Rosetta Station, honored friend. Forgive me for not greeting you first.”

“Captain Tamareia.” Gor bowed back.

“How long will you be staying? I insist you use my quarters as your own. Stop by the constable’s office and he will register you for my door. I’m afraid most of the cabins are small, and we’re overcrowded with the tournament.”

“My thanks, sir. My travel clearance is good for the next two weeks, and then I must return.” Gor nodded at us. “I should collect my belongings now. I will go to your constable on the way back.”

“It’s good to see you, Gor.”

“You as well, Captain.” He put one enormous hand on my shoulder. “Dalí, please think about what I said.”

Gor let himself out. Dad and I both understood he made a graceful exit so we could shout at each other in peace. Zereids don’t carry a whole lot of baggage. They don’t wear clothes.

“Did you need to pick a fight with the number eight of the bloody Europan rugby team?” He tossed his personal data device on the table. “Do you even know who he is?”

“Other than a prick, no.”

“Jon Batterson. Does the name ring a bell at all?”

“Batterson.” I blinked through mental processes made sluggish by the vape. “As in President Batterson?”

“Light dawns. The heir apparent to his self-righteous little robotics empire.” He ran both hands through his hair. I inherited my dark-brown waves from him, but Dad’s customary high-and-tight showed little hint of curl. Mine now fell to my shoulders in a shaggy, tangled mane. “Do you realize the mess I would have had to clean up if you really let loose on him? Even if he is built like the ass end of a freighter, you could put him on the injured list.”

“It wasn’t my intent.”

“From what Caniberi told me, you were about to unleash hell on him. You sure stirred up some crap. The president is coming to the game tonight. The constable didn’t know who he was either, or he might have thrown you in the brig to prove a point.” He sat down with a thud on the steel bench and sighed. “Dalí. Come here.”

I sat next to him and braced myself.

“It’s been six months. Your leave from the diplomatic corps is finished, and if you don’t return, you’ll be dismissed. This has to stop. When you go back to your life, you’re going to encounter people like Batterson on a daily basis. Your reputation and your career are at stake. You can’t do this anymore.”

“That life’s over.”

“Don’t throw it away. You did so much in so short a time. You have a gift for understanding, and you will be a formidable ambassador. Sol Fed needs you in the negotiation chamber at the Remoliad. Luna is a better place because of your work.”

“Because of Gresh’s work. Because of Sida and our child. They were my reasons for everything. I’m not sure I feel as strongly for the rest of the human race.”

“Then you need to find another way to deal with their deaths. I won’t watch you destroy your future. You worked too hard for it.”

“Tell me how, sir.” My fury rose. “Tell me how I can deal with it because I’m looking for an exit.”

He stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” I rose and stalked away. He started to call after me, but the communication tones went off.

“Captain Tamareia, report to the bridge. The president’s shuttle is incoming.”

“On my way. Dalí!”

I ignored him and ducked through the port.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

E.M. Hamill is a nurse by day, sci fi and fantasy novelist by night. She lives in eastern Kansas with her family, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse. She also writes young adult material under the name Elisabeth Hamill. Her first novel, SONG MAGICK, won first place for YA fantasy in the 2014 Dante Rossetti Awards for Young Adult Fiction.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Blog

Tour Schedule

8/7 MM Good Book Reviews

8/8 Love Bytes reviews

8/8 Boy Meets Boy Reviews

8/9 Bayou Book Junkie

8/9 Divine Magazine

8/10 MillsyLovesBooks

8/10 The Novel Approach

8/11 My Fiction Nook

8/11 Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews

8/11 Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

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RELEASE BLITZ for Teresias Bound by Rebecca James (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Teresias Bound

Author: Rebecca James

Publisher: Rebecca James

Release Date: July 29

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: approximately 81k

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Science Fiction, mpreg

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Synopsis

Aiden is a man in a woman’s body. His dream is to fly to Aquarix where the elusive Fluens–the only species capable of changing his life record and physically making him a man–reside, and for years he’s been working at a seedy brothel in Solarias to save enough money to make that dream a reality.

Lydo, the prince of Teresias, has spent his youth leading his father’s army and avoiding his responsibilities on his home planet. On brief leave during a dangerous mission, he stops at a brothel and acquires the services of a feisty young prostitute who insists Lydo refer to her as a boy. Amused by the girl, the prince pays her way to Aquarix.

Aiden is euphoric at his transformation, but Lydo is more than a little disconcerted by the fact he is attracted to Aiden as a man. When it’s time to part ways, Aiden fulfills his second dream by taking a job on a spaceship. Resigned to step into his expected role on Teresias, the prince returns to his homophobic planet. But as the king parades princesses before his son in hopes of a betrothal, Lydo finds his heart remains with a certain adventurous boy somewhere out in space.

Excerpt

“Good to know now you’re not a man of
your word, before I start to trust you in any way,” Lydo said, face tight.

Aiden feigned ignorance. “What’s that
supposed to mean?”

“We had a deal.”

Aiden crossed his arms over his chest,
still a little surprised at the feel of the taut, muscular pectorals rather than
the soft breasts he’d lived with for so long. “You never believed me in the
first place.”

Lydo bent close to Aiden’s face, and
Aiden straightened his spine, refusing to be cowed. Tilting his head back, he
looked at the big man face-to-face, heart rocketing into overdrive on multiple
levels. Lydo was threatening, sexy, and unreadable, and if Aiden wasn’t
careful, he was going to do something incredibly stupid like allow his crush to
deepen into something much more dangerous.

“Are you able to get me out of here?”
Lydo’s warm breath brushed Aiden’s face. “Or was it all a lie to get into my
pants?”

“Answer me.”

Aiden sighed. “I could do it. The
question is, is leaving what you really should do?” He put his hand on Lydo’s
arm and touched the corded muscle of bulging bicep before snatching his fingers
away again.

“There’s so much you could do here if
you ruled as king. You saw those people, Lydo. The Konnics. They live a
miserable existence on a barren wasteland because they have no other choice. If
you were king, you could fix all that.”

Lydo’s eyes burned into Aiden’s for a
long moment before the prince stepped away, putting some space between them.
Inwardly, Aiden sagged with relief.

“You don’t know what you’re talking
about,” Lydo grumbled.

Aiden considered that perhaps Lydo
didn’t have it in him to be a good ruler. Remembering the sharp disappointment
not an hour earlier when he’d realized it wasn’t Lydo giving him pleasure,
followed by the twist of the knife when the Pusari female reported Lydo had
been the one to send her, Aiden reminded himself only an acute sense of
self-preservation had gotten him this far in life, and right then that sense
was flashing a red light of warning.

Aiden’s desire for Lydo was blooming
into something that threatened to throw him off course. The demanding, arrogant
man who had come into the brothel had turned out to be more complicated than
Aiden had at first thought. After managing to crawl beneath Aiden’s defenses,
Lydo continually ran hot and cold. He seemed perfectly willing to give his body
in payment for the favor he desired, yet he obviously had a problem with the
concept of sleeping with a man.

Pre-Order at Amazon

Meet the Author

Best-selling author of contemporary and paranormal gay romance, Rebecca James is an English major with a life-long love of reading and writing who found her niche in M/M romance.

Rebecca will be a supporting author at GayRomList 2017 this October in Denver. Let her know if you’ll be there and if you’re one of her newsletter subscribers, she’ll have a special gift set aside for you!

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | eMail | Amazon | Newsletter

Check out Rebecca’s River Wolf Pack Series!

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In the Spotlight: Jordan’s Pryde (Pryde Shifter #1) by Giovanna Reaves (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Jordan’s Pryde

Series: Pryde Shifter Series Book 1

Author: Giovanna Reaves

Publisher: Independent

Release Date: June 30th 2017

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 83K

Genre: Romance, Science Fiction, Mpreg, Paranormal Romance

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Synopsis

All he did was apply for a job and then his world was turned upside down.

Thrust into the world he had no idea about, Jordan Sutton’s only goal was to get a job working for Duncan Pryde of Pryde Industries. He thought werewolves, vampires, and faes belonged in fairy tales, not in the real world. What will he do when he finds out that there’s more than meets the eye to his boss and his family?

Duncan Pryde had too much going on in his life. He became the sole guardian of his twin niece and nephew along with the addition of his pack and company. He had no time to think about a mate when trouble came to his front door. What happens when the man he hired for one job turns out to be his destined mate? Does he deny what he feels or embrace it?

Excerpt

Chapter One

Jordan

Jordan pulled up to the address he was directed to by his GPS. His mouth fell open in complete shock at the mansion looking back at him. He was applying for a position to work for the CEO of Pryde Industries. The handsome and jaw-dropping Duncan Pryde. The position was as his personal assistant. Unless people had been living under a rock, everyone knew exactly who Duncan Pryde was. A self-made billionaire who had his fingers in everything from computer software to fashion design. The man was intelligent, wealthy, and drop-dead gorgeous and didn’t look a day over forty. Simply put, everything Jordan could want in a man. But with one snag—the man was completely straight according to all the magazines he’d read.

When he heard there was a position opening up at Pryde Industries and it would be working for the CEO, Jordan researched everything he could about Duncan Pryde. One thing was evident, Pryde was never without some slim, beautiful female model or actress hanging off his arm. Other than his attraction, Jordan admired Duncan Pryde from afar, since he started tracking his success.

It was only by chance Jordan found out about the job opening and jumped at the opportunity. He admitted to himself that he had a selfish reason for wanting to work for Pryde Industries. It was the opening Jordan needed to get his foot in the door in the business world. Even if he was starting out as a personal assistant. Jordan would be foolish to pass up the chance. Being rich was not his primary goal, success and recognition for what he could do were what he was after. Call him ambitious, but Jordan learned a long time ago that success didn’t come easily. You have to step over a few people to get where you want to be in life. He practically bit his nails down to the knuckle the day he sent off his résumé. It was not a job at the corner store, but working for a CEO with a major Fortune 500 company.

The minute Jordan got the call for the interview, he did a more in-depth research on Duncan Pryde, that was available on Duncan, and his businesses. There was not a lot. He could find little on Duncan’s personal life, but there was more than enough information on Pryde Industries. It frustrated Jordan, to the point of obsession, that he could not learn more about the man he wanted to work for. The only personal information he could find was that a tragedy had occurred in his life six months earlier.

He had turned the running of the business over to the hands of his vice president until he was able to return. No matter how much he searched, Jordan was not able to find out what had happened. Duncan Pryde had also withdrawn from public life. No one seemed to know what happened. Wild speculations swirled around that he had been severely injured in a car accident and his company was covering it up. Some reported that he was bound to a wheelchair and would never walk again.

Taking a deep breath, Jordan looked at the file sitting in the passenger seat next to him. It was his résumé and work experience. There wasn’t a lot to go on, but Jordan had glowing letters of recommendation from previous employers along with those of volunteering administrators. He was ready, and he was pretty confident that the job belonged to him and no one else.

No need to keep sitting here, the job’s not going to come to me this way. Jordan nervously got out of the car closing the door.

Checking his suit to make sure that everything was pristine, he smoothed out invisible wrinkles and lint while praying to the gods that he wouldn’t come off as an idiot in his interview. He wanted to make a good impression the first time meeting Mr. Pryde, who was conducting the interview himself. Jordan squared his shoulders, and looked at the large white painted mansion with black window trim in front of him. The lawn was well manicured with shrubbery and trees on both sides of the walkway leading up to the door.

What he could not understand was why the interview was at a mansion and not at the head office located downtown. Jordan shrugged his shoulders, again. As long as Jordan got the job he did not care where the interview was held. Wealthy and influential people had their quirks, it wasn’t for him to judge. Determined that he was ready to meet the man he was hoping to work for, Jordan walked to the red painted front door and cleared his throat, he raised his hand, ready to knock on the door when it was flung open for him. A ragged-looking woman burst through the door.

“I don’t care how much you pay me; I will not take care of those hellions!” she yelled, walking or rather running down the driveway and got in the car parked next to his, speeding off like a bat out of hell.

Well, that’s interesting.

Jordan quickly stepped to the side holding his folder to his chest, not sure if someone or something else was going to come flying out of the house and hit him. His heart was pounding in his chest. Instead of feeling nervous he was starting to get scared out of his fucking mind. The little voice in the back of his head told him to cut his losses and get his ass back in his car and go home, and let someone else be terrorized by Duncan Pryde. He ignored the voice and waited a few minutes before he decided that nothing else was going to come flying in his direction. Peeking his head through the door, not seeing anyone, Jordan stepped forward and walked in the foyer looking around for someone to ask for directions. The place was just as large on the inside as it was on the outside.

Shouldn’t there be a maid or a butler to answer the door? Jordan heard voices coming from down the hall and followed it. His previous apprehension went away as his curiosity took over.

“You guys, know that I have meetings to attend, I might not go into the office, but I cannot stay with you pups all day long.”

“We know, Uncle Duncan,” a cute, tiny little voice said.

“But she was so mean,” another small voice added.

“She promised if we behaved she would let us have ice cream,” they chimed in together.

Kids, nothing I read said that Duncan Pryde had kids.

“And we were especially good,” one of the kids said.

From the tone, Jordan assumed it was a little boy. He stood outside the door listening shamelessly to their conversation. He found it adorable how the kids finished each other’s sentences.

“Be that as it may, you were both wrong for putting mud in her shoes and lizards in her pockets.” Duncan Pryde’s voice sounded quiet but stern, not frightening considering the conversation with the kids.

“We’re sorry,” they chorused together.

“What am I going to do with you both?” Duncan Pryde asked.

“Please, don’t be mad at us, Uncle Duncan,” one of the tiny little voices said. To Jordan, it sounded like a little girl. The pleading and the sniffle at the end broke Jordan’s heart, he was so tempted to go into the room and comfort the little one himself and call Duncan Pryde out for being mean to his kids.

“I’m not angry. But, guys, I need to be able to go back to work.” The room was quiet for a few seconds before Duncan Pryde spoke again. “Promise me you will give the other nanny a chance.”

“We promise, Uncle Duncan,” they said together.

“Okay, now let’s hug it out.”

Jordan heard an oof sound and then peals of laughter. He stood in the hall a bit longer letting the small family enjoy their time together before he interrupted. Pulling himself off the wall, he walked the short few steps and stood at the entrance to the room and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Duncan Pryde’s voice echoed strongly from the other side of the door.

Jordan took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before opening the door and stepping over the threshold and stopped, he had to hold back the gasp that threatened to escape. Magazines and television did not do Duncan Pryde justice because standing in front of Jordan was one of the sexiest men he’d ever laid eyes on.

Nope, Duncan Pryde is not wheelchair bound, he doesn’t even look as if he has a scratch on his perfect muscled body.

The only disappointment, in Jordan’s opinion, was the confused expression on the man’s handsome face. Duncan Pryde stood about six feet four inches. Wide muscled shoulders and arms that looked like they could bench press the two kids in one hand and him in the other without breaking a sweat.

“Who are you?” Duncan Pryde demanded and stepped in front of the kids, shielding them from Jordan’s view. To Jordan, it had sounded as if he growled his words rather than spoke them.

“Y…your front door was open, and I heard voices so I…” Jordan stuttered through his response.

“You didn’t answer my question, who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” he demanded again, placing the children entirely behind him.

Jordan was about to walk further into the room, but paused at the man’s deep voice and hoped he did not let on just how much Duncan Pryde’s very presence was affecting him in a few short seconds. With his pale complexion, he was probably blushing from the tips of his ears to his toes.

Fuck, the man’s tall.

Jordan took a deep breath, finally he was able to string a few sentences together. “I’m sorry, my name is Jordan Sutton. I was told to meet you here for an interview.”

Duncan Pryde stared at Jordan as if he’d lost his head. His blue eyes widened as if he just remembered their meeting.

“Oh shit,” he said, and the kids gasped.

“Uncle Duncan, you said a bad word,” the little girl said looking up at her uncle.

“Now you gotta put money in the bad word jar,” the little boy added to the conversation.

The kids are adorable.

“You’re right, guys,” Duncan Pryde said, he still had his eyes trained on Jordan, but his tone was gentle when he spoke to the kids. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot, things got a bit out of control this morning,” he apologized to Jordan.

“That’s okay,” Jordan assured him with a shrug of his shoulders.

Jordan watched as Duncan turned and kneeled in front of the kids who looked so much like him. The twins had the same dark brown hair with sprinkles of silver highlights. His curiosity was piqued, wondering if it was a family trait kind of thing.

“Okay, my little pups, here is what I need you to do for me.” The twins nodded, looking up at him. “I need to meet with Mr….” He turned and looked at Jordan.

“Sutton,” Jordan answered for him.

The twins were staring at him, and Jordan knew why. He always got the same look everywhere he went. It used to bother him when he was a kid growing up, but he wasn’t bothered by it anymore. There had to be other people in the world with white hair and red eyes. Many thought he dyed his hair and wore contacts simply to freak them out or was being rebellious and balked when he told them that he was born this way.

“Thank you,” he said to Jordan then looked back at the twins. “I need to speak with Mr. Sutton for a few minutes. I need you both to go to your rooms and play with your toys. I promise I won’t be that long. Afterward, we can do anything you guys want to do.” Their heads bobbed at the same time nodding, before hugging their uncle then walked out of the room, whispering to each other and looking back at him. Jordan smiled and waved.

“Did you see his eyes?” the little boy asked.

“Yeah, and his hair,” the little girl said. “I want my hair like his.”

Duncan got up from his position and looked at Jordan. “I say we have a good twenty minutes before they get bored, and I will have to think of something to bribe them with,” Duncan told Jordan with a smile.

“In that case, how about we cut to the chase, then,” Jordan said. “And I just lay out why I’m the perfect candidate for the job as your assistant, you hire me, and I can start working immediately.”

“Bossy, demanding, and confident, I like that. But, let’s go through with the formalities and see how you do.”

Jordan tried not to smile, but the sudden change in Duncan Pryde’s demeanor put him completely at ease.

Duncan walked over to his desk and sat down. He looked over to the young man standing in front of him. He was properly dressed, which impressed him. He only hoped he continued to impress him during their short interview. He wasn’t kidding when he told Mr. Sutton that they had twenty minutes, Maddison and Benjamin were a handful. Duncan could not believe the morning he’d had, and it wasn’t even noon. He’d planned on going into the office, but had to shift his schedule around by doing the interview at his home. Because the twins begged him to stay home with them, and he gave in with the promise they would behave for Charlotte. That didn’t work out so well since they decided to terrorize Charlotte, who was nanny number, hell if he knew, he went through them quicker than it took him to blink an eye. At times the twins reminded him more of him and Mari than he would like to acknowledge.

“Have a seat,” he instructed. “I assume that you have a résumé in that folder you’re clutching tightly to your chest?”

Duncan extended his hand, waiting for the young man to give him the folder. After sitting down, the young man gave the folder to him. Duncan got comfortable as he flipped it open and began reading through Sutton’s qualifications. An indescribable sweet scent wafted under his nose, but Duncan ignored it. As a lykosian, or a werewolf, he was sensitive to certain smells.

Duncan felt his skin prickle, and the scent got stronger. Pulling on his restraints, he ignored the way his body was reacting and concentrated on the reason the young man was there in the first place. Even in the height of protecting the twins Duncan couldn’t help but stare the first moment he saw the young man standing in front of him. He was entranced by his glistening ruby jeweled eyes and his silver white hair. If the kids’ fingernails were not digging into his skin, Duncan would have surely forgotten they were in the room.

Not many humans that he’d seen were born with such exotic appearances, it made Duncan wonder if he was something other than human. If he weren’t sure that there was a male standing in front of him, Duncan would have mistaken Jordan for a woman with his delicate features. Duncan tried to distract his wandering thoughts by looking through the file in his hands. He already read a few things he liked. Duncan was a very busy man and needed someone who could keep up with him. He was organized and by his references he seemed to be more than qualified for the position as his personal assistant.

This was the part Duncan hated, he’d gone through six assistants in the past year. All women and all under the illusion that he would fall in love with them. There were three lykosian females from his pack that tried to trap him into mating with them. They were immediately fired from the company and banished from the pack. There were consequences for such actions. Trying to manipulate a member of the pack into a mating when they were not mates would result in the member being banished from the pack for ten years. Duncan hated doing it, but he had no other choice.

Duncan was the pack leader of one of the largest lykosian packs of Cypress Prince Island. Cypress Prince was much more than an island; it was a bustling city filled with all walks of life. Duncan looked up from the file in his hands and stared at Jordan for a few seconds assessing him before a thought popped into his head. He was in need of an assistant and a new nanny, why not interview for both positions and see which candidate would fit perfectly for either position.

“Tell me, Mr. Sutton, why do you want to be my personal assistant?”

Duncan watched as a worried expression crossed over Jordan’s face before he answered. “Do you want me to be honest or give you the placated version that would make sure you hire me on the spot?”

Duncan chuckled, he liked the kid. He was also glad that the timidness he saw a few seconds earlier was no longer in his posture. “If you do get the job, what you need to know about me is that above all things, I value honesty from my employees.”

“I really need a job,” Jordan started. “I’m pretty close to moving back in with my parents and my little baby parked in your exquisite driveway is being held together by luck, hope, and Gods know a lot of prayers.” Jordan finished with a sigh. Duncan could tell he was trying not to sound desperate about needing a job, but he did ask the man for honesty. “I’m also inexperienced in the sense that I have never worked in the world of business, but I have admired you and your drive to succeed. I feel working for your company, or you specifically, will help me achieve my goals.”

He smelled the honesty coming from the young man. “Are you trying to butter me up, Mr. Sutton?” Duncan asked raising an eyebrow.

“Only if it’s working,” Jordan countered back with a smile that had Duncan thinking thoughts he really shouldn’t about the applicant.

Duncan chuckled at their natural banter, it had been a while since he smiled so much in an interview. He spent a few more minutes asking Jordan questions. Duncan liked what he was hearing from the young man with each answer he gave to the questions posed. He had a few more applicants to interview by the end of the week, but he was positive that Jordan would be a value to his company. Twenty minutes on the dot Duncan’s keen hearing heard the pitter patter of little feet heading in their direction. He stood to his feet as did Jordan. Duncan extended his hand wrapping up their meeting. He would have loved to sit and speak with the young man a few minutes more but knew that wasn’t possible. Not with the twins seconds away from his office door.

“I will have someone contact you by the end of the week to let you know if you have the job.”

Jordan shook his hand as they walked to the door. “Thank you for taking the time to see me.” A spark of electricity ran down his spine, but again Duncan ignored it. Maybe he would examine what was going on later if he was still bothered by it.

When he opened the door, the twins were standing at the entrance with an innocent expression on their tiny faces that Duncan did not believe for a second. The twins were so much like he and his twin sister, Mari, were when they were their age. A sad feeling settled in the bottom of his stomach.

“Are you ready now, Uncle Duncan?” they asked together.

“Yes,” he answered. “Let me walk Mr. Sutton to the door and I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

They nodded and followed behind him and Jordan. Duncan opened the door for the young man. He watched as the younger man walked to his car, or what resembled a car. The kid wasn’t lying; Duncan was not sure how much longer that car was going to last. Once the kid drove off, Duncan turned around and focused his attention to the twins who were starting to get that impatient look on their faces.

“Okay, my little munchkins, I canceled all my other appointments to spend the day with you. So, what will it be?” he asked them. They smiled, and he knew exactly what he would be spending the rest of the day doing, and there was no way he could get out of it.

Later that week, Duncan was found slouched on the sofa, a drink in his hand and three applicants’ files sitting in his lap. He’d spent the rest of the week taking care of the twins and truth be told he was exhausted. Duncan needed someone quickly. He loved having and taking care of Maddison and Benjamin, but he had a pack and a company to run, he never thought he’d miss getting up and going to work so badly. Six months earlier, when he told his sister, Mari, that he would watch the kids while she and her husband, Ben, went on their second honeymoon, Duncan did not expect that it would be for the rest of his life. The private jet that Mari and Ben were on crashed on their way back from Paris. Duncan was devastated and had no idea what he was going to do. He had to bury his sister and his brother-in-law.

He had a hard time trying to explain to his five-year-old niece and nephew that their mom and dad would never be coming home again. Duncan had to change his life drastically to accommodate the twins. He’d gone from a doting uncle who saw them when he missed them, to a father figure in the span of months. He’d also gone through about the same number of nannies as he had personal assistants in the past few months. Duncan was a perfectionist and wanted things done his way. Mari used to tease him that he needed to loosen up a bit and give people a chance to make mistakes.

Mari and Duncan were twins, but the public had no knowledge of her existence. As wealthy and well-known as he was, Duncan respected Mari’s wish to keep her away from the public. So not to be recognized as his twin in public, Mari dyed her hair and grew it out to the middle of her back. It was her choice to live a modest life and taught at the school that Duncan had built when he took over as Alpha of his pack. The same way he protected Mari he did with his pack, keeping their existence a secret.

It had not been easy, but Duncan felt it was better to hide in plain sight. The employees that worked in his company were both pack members and humans who had no idea that they were working with lykosians. Duncan thought about hiring other creatures, but since the great war, each sect had lived separate lives. The thought of intermingling was considered blasphemous. He was not under the naïve impression that his pack was the only living among them. There were a few other shifter clan leaders that Duncan had known since childhood whom he had relied on over the years. There were even sanguine, or vampire, covens on the other side of the island.

The world was filled with many other sects. Many believed that lykosians were the first beasts formed. It was written that the gods—that once roamed the earth—wanted more than human worshipers and decided to create beasts and creatures who would not only protect their providence but be their warriors. The mistress of the moon, created the lykosians. In the beginning many beasts mated with humans before realizing they could also mate with their own kind. Lykosians and other shifted sects were given unmanageable strength and the ability to change from man to beast. Other sects were also given special abilities, some known and some not. The nyxian sect was known for their beauty and mysterious abilities. The elfkins, or elves, who were just as mysterious as the nyxians, were close in relation with their appearance. Both sects were created by the gods of the sun and given abilities to defend themselves.

There were many other sects that had hidden their people away and had remained a secret even to him. One sect Duncan was sure they had died out centuries ago, were the draconem. They were hunted and killed for their blood and heart. Men and beasts were attracted to the idea of a long life. By eating the heart of a draconem a person could live up to one hundred years plus. It was also written that draconems were quite powerful and possess magic liken to that of witches and warlocks, it was how they controlled their fire that dwelled deep inside of them while in their human form.

Duncan had always wondered how a sect as powerful as the draconems could have failed to protect themselves and died out. Some died during and after the war. After the great war, a treaty was signed by the leaders of each sect. No matter how much he researched, Duncan could not find the reason why or who started the war in the first place. The only thing that was apparent was that many died senselessly. In the end, each sect decided it was better that they all lived their lives and didn’t intermingle. Duncan and a few other lykosian alphas had worked together to keep the peace with other packs and shifter clans across the globe.

As with humans, there was always a bad apple in with a bunch of perfectly good ones. Duncan would never deny how competitive he was and the lengths he’d gone through to ensure his pack’s safety. One of his primary goals was to make sure that his members would have the best life possible. He was quite young when he took the pack over after challenging—and killing—his uncle for leadership. Duncan hated the way his uncle used and abused his power as Alpha of the pack. Women were being used for his sole pleasure, couples were not allowed to mate until the Alpha had his way with the females first. Some tried to run away but were caught before they could leave the island.

Some were killed in front of the rest of the pack as an embellished way to keep the members in line. On the full moon, the pack was not allowed to shift and run together. According to his uncle, that pleasure belonged to him alone. Duncan’s uncle told the pack that the previous Alpha was weak, which was why he was easily defeated by their enemies. He put more fear in the pack members telling them the goddess of the moon saw fit to bless him with her strength and considered the members weak and needed him to guide them.

Duncan was a child when his father, Thorin, was killed. He was not aware the role his uncle, Bradley, played in Thorin’s death. There were two things his uncle wanted: Galicia, who was Duncan’s mother, and the pack. Duncan couldn’t believe his uncle held such jealousy in his heart to kill his own brother. No one spoke of how his father died. It was forbidden, punishable by death to even mention his name. After Thorin’s death, Bradley approached Galicia and offered to be her mate, but Galicia turned him down. Bradley became furious and punished the pack instead.

When he got older and found out what happened to his father, and that his uncle was the one that killed him, Duncan acted by challenging his uncle. He was only eighteen when he took over the pack. Galicia who was still depressed because of her mate’s death moved to Virginia to live with her sister. She was too heartbroken at the loss of his father to stay in the pack. His mom looked happy when he saw her a few months before Mari died. Duncan and Mari were ecstatic when she announced that she had opened her heart again to the possibility of love and finding a new mate. Her mate was gone, but there was nothing wrong with having someone to love again in her life.

After taking over the pack, Duncan was ridiculed by the same pack members he saved from his uncle’s tyrannical rule. That was so long ago, but at times it still felt as if it were yesterday. It took him quite a while to gain the trust of his pack members. Duncan was one hundred and fifty years old but looked like a man in his late thirties. After taking over the pack, he appointed his best friend, Ryland Burnett, as his Beta. Ryland’s father was also killed by his uncle for being an opposition to his uncle’s tyranny and for the color of his skin. He and his mother were allowed to remain in the pack because she was the right color and his uncle was not afraid of a weak-minded woman.

Duncan also named Ryland’s three cousins, Parker, Charlie, and Sebastian, as his enforcers of the pack. They had been more than just his Beta and enforcers; they had become his family. Duncan worked hard on building up his pack and changing their image. He attended community college and studied business and finance. He used his smarts and invested money into the pack and ultimately his company.

Before Duncan took over, the women in the pack were not even allowed to better themselves, such as attending school. The men were considered the authority apart from the Alpha. Little things were seen as punishable offenses, such as associating with humans. Duncan had done a lot to change the image of his pack. He felt the more the pack stayed hidden, the easier it would be for them to be found out. They had a target on their backs, no matter if they stayed hidden or not. Duncan wanted his pack to live in the light instead of staying hidden.

There are other organizations like the Blackburn hunters who would stop at nothing to try and eradicate his pack and others like him. However, they are not as organized or well-funded as the Blackburn Organization. Duncan felt hiding would bring more suspicion. Living in the spotlight also has its disadvantages, one would be his appearance. Duncan reinvented his image so that it would not draw too much attention or questions from reporters. Duncan had lived a long time, and if others looked close enough, there would be questions as to why he hadn’t aged in his early thirties and how he was able to keep his youthful appearance.

To the humans of this world, he was Duncan Pryde, the fourth who took over his father’s company after the man died. No one seemed to question why he looked almost the same as his father. The easy answer was the strong genetics that ran in their family. The Pryde pack had come a long way. He had to work hard to get over the emotional scar that continued to hang over the pack. Duncan prided himself, knowing that his pack was more accepting than others. A few years after he took over, the pack started to grow. Members were finding their mates and having pups. Duncan prided himself on being an open-minded Alpha and allowed his members to voice their likes and dislikes with respect. He practically bought the entire island of Cypress, so that his pack could expand and his members could live in peace.

Coming back to the present, Duncan looked down at the files resting on his lap. He needed someone he could trust to take care of the twins when he had to travel out of town or when he had to work late at the office. Duncan knew he had to be selective. It would be easier to choose one of the female lykosians from his pack. But in the past, he realized they were using the pups to get close to him. Being the mate of the Alpha came with a lot of privilege. The pups they would have would be powerful, and the next to become the Alpha of the pack, no matter the gender. Duncan was not above naming a female as the Alpha of his pack. Strength came from how an Alpha cared for the members of its pack and not how well they could thrash his or her opponent in a match.

As old as he was, Duncan was not ready to settle down with a mate; which was why he was not looking or pining for one. Duncan was aware of his obligation to provide Alpha pups for the pack. As crazy as it might sound to others, he wanted to be in love and not be forced to sleep with a female lykosian because of the needs of the pack. Love mattered to him. He wanted what Mari and Ben had. He saw and felt the love between them, and at times it made him jealous. But he was also happy for them.

Duncan sighed as he flipped through the file of Jordan Sutton and Samantha Jones. Both candidates answered his questions truthfully, he did not smell any deceit coming from them. Also, their references checked out, as well as their background check came back clean. Decision made, Duncan made specific notes on each folder as to who was hired for what position. The next morning, he would send the documents off to his human resources department and have someone contact both applicants, informing them they got the job.

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Meet the Author

Giovanna (Gia) Reaves is my alter ego, who is a dreamer. I spend my days and nights dreaming and thinking of the worlds I want to create with words. I started writing about three years ago, when I was introduced to the world of fan fiction. I loved the idea of creating a new world around characters that people already knew about. And ones that are original of my own making. I have written two novels and a few free stories.

I am a mother, wife, and a military veteran. I enjoy trying new things such as traveling, cooking, and reading. I try to incorporate some of the things I have experienced into my books.

Currently living in Newport, RI with my two favorite men. If I am not hidden in my cave writing, I love to read and spend time with my hubby and son. I love listening to R and B along with neo soul when I am writing. When I’m not writing, I am trying to perfect my baking and decorating skills or try to pick up something new. I love spending time with my husband and son playing video games and traveling.

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Blog Tour: Moro’s Price by M. Crane Hana (character bio, excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Moro’s Price

Author: M. Crane Hana

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: June 26

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Female, Male/Male

Length: 107000

Genre: Science Fiction, sci-fi, aliens, abuse, captivity, abduction, dark, slave

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Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to have M Crane Hana here today on her Moro’s Price tour. She’s brought along a little bit more information on one of the main characters for our readers! Enjoy!

♦︎

Character Bio – Valier Antonin

Valier’s mostly human Camalian species carries a sentient colonial symbiont linking all members in greater or lesser mental and emotional contact. Val’s family are the genetically engineered rulers who can control and absorb the emotional overloads caused by that linkage.

He is one of the few Camalians who can mindspeak directly to Cama, the symbiont’s apparently-female guiding consciousness. He is the only Camalian who can actually twist Cama’s will to his own, without her even knowing it. Fortunately, he and Cama get along ridiculously well. She tolerates his quirks and tries to be a stabilizing influence while Val indulges his love of nano-technology, explosions, sexy gladiators, and his very-much-frowned-upon sadomasochistic tendencies. Val redeems himself by being a mostly kind and generous person, struggling to find the good in urges that no peace-loving Camalian should ever have.

He’s a budding genius with a fear of boredom and a knack for combining nano-tech with his obliging symbiont. Val’s gifts, curiosity, and manic tendencies get him into (and out of) trouble, often causing disaster for the people around him. Because his accidental control of Cama nearly shattered the Camalian empire when he was a teenager, Val knows his own parents might decide to execute him if he ever really steps out of line. Bisexual, Val grew up knowing there were half a dozen Camalian female Potential mates who might be his emotional match, but they were carefully hidden from him to protect them until he matures.

After saving Moro and fixating emotionally on him, Val begins to grow up…and has to decide if his responsibility to Moro is more important than his mother’s empire.

Val stands about 5’6”, with a wiry, lightly-muscled build. His skin is medium bronze, with rounded Afro-Asian features, his family’s genetically engineered pale gold curly hair and pale golden-yellow eyes (it’s a marker to tell other Camalians to look out!)

For Val’s look, I was somewhat inspired by British male model Phoenix James, American actor Jon Michael Hill, and the DC character Aqualad (Kaldur’ahm).

Synopsis

Crown Prince, techno-geek, and secret sadomasochist Valier has lusted for years after the gorgeous gladiator called “The Diamond.” Meeting the escaped slave on a rooftop, Valier discovers Moro Dalgleish wants suicide before his former masters can reclaim him.

Infected with a deadly symbiont, Valier proposes empty sex to satisfy his urges and grant Moro’s release from a horrible life. Neither man plans for Moro to survive, or how the morning after will shake three empires to their foundations.

Excerpt

Moro’s Price
M. Crane Hana © 2017
All Rights Reserved

Chapter 1

A thousand spectators watched Jason Kee-DaSilva, the Leopard of Saba, ruin his career two minutes after his comeback victory.

The Golden Cage Arena spanned the top floor of a gaudy casino skyscraper in south Cedar-Saba. At the center of the domed auditorium, a thirty-foot circular steel floor slowly revolved to the right. An airy dome of gold-plated steel filigree mesh arched thirty feet over it. The mesh was stronger than a spaceship’s skin. Two gates led into the Cage. Once a fight began, they’d stay locked until one man lost and yielded to the other.

DaSilva had broken two men already tonight: two in credits, the last in flesh.

The deceptively delicate dome had just lifted from the bloodstained circular steel floor to let a cadre of medics through. Huge holo screens in the dome played highlights from the first rounds of battle or lingered over shots of the Leopard swiftly claiming his last victim. He hadn’t been brutal, merely thorough. The orgasm he’d wrung from the other man had been as much a symbol of victory as the final punch-down.

In better days, DaSilva had been a glorious bronze godling of the Cage, always dressed to show off his sleek muscles, dapple-bleached short hair, and the leopard-spot tattoos covering his shoulders and spine. He’d regained most of the muscle, though it was still pared down from illness. Haunted hollows showed around brown eyes, and his hair was growing out to plebian brown curls. His knee-length kilt was simple grayish-brown poly-silk, without Garibey Shemua colors or concentric teardrop pattern.

Now DaSilva looked up angrily, shrugging off the lackluster attentions of his own single hired attendant and the man’s low-budget medical kit. In place of DaSilva’s legendary anthem, a rights-free generic martial score rumbled in the background from expensive speaker systems.

In the first tier of seats behind the three red-clad referees, a bald man in Garibey Shemua’s purple and silver robes tapped studiously at the keyboard manifesting across his left sleeve. He glanced at DaSilva, as if just now noticing the fighter’s thunderous expression.

DaSilva glared at the Shemua official and then pointed toward the nearest speaker. “I paid, damn you. I wrote my anthem years ago!” he shouted, stepping aside to let the medics work on the other fighter.

“While you were under contract, Sero DaSilva. We’re happy to lease the rights back to you for single-use or month-to-month,” the bald man said with a mild tone, pitched to carry perfectly past the low music. The hovering audio drones made certain his words were broadcast over the whole arena.

“I paid yesterday.”

The Shemua official’s polite, calm expression never wavered. “Which was applied to last month’s fees. Which were in arrears, I’m afraid. It’s a new month. Your employment liaison should have told you to pay today, too.”

“My liaison went on a convenient fishing trip to Lariden Lake last night and couldn’t be reached. What the hell do you people even want?”

The Shemua official lifted a red metal collar from his right sleeve and waggled it in the air. The collar clasp glittered with purple enamel and white diamonds in Shemua’s concentric teardrop emblem. A concerted gasp came from the spectators who knew what it was: the Leopard’s Red-Band bonder’s collar he’d worn while being owned by Garibey Shemua.

“This can all work out for the best, Sero DaSilva, if you’d just see reason and come back.” Until the previous year, the Leopard of Saba had been one of Shemua’s feted, pampered bondslave fighters. Their star.

DaSilva stepped a pace backward.

The crowd moaned as one. Another onlooker began slowly, derisively clapping: a huge old man clad in a brilliant white suit, sprawled a dozen seats down from the referees. The camera drones focused on him, then longer on the silent, nearly naked man kneeling in front of him.

A buzz ran through the crowd.

“The Diamond.” A whisper from a few hundred hushed voices, as everyone was reminded of who else had watched every moment of DaSilva’s three comeback fights. The silent man’s black collar indicated a murderer or traitor under arena sentence. His odd black-and-white coloring marked him as a legend equal to the Leopard. Heavy cosmetics rimmed the man’s eyes, exaggerated his refined cheekbones, and shaped his lips into a courtesan’s scarlet smile.

Flinching at the sight of himself on the giant screens, the painted man lowered his head in a spill of long black curls and huddled against his master’s legs.

Everyone in the vast room saw how long the Leopard looked at the Diamond.

Purchase

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Meet the Author

M. Crane Hana lives in a flat place filled with cactus. She writes romances in all flavors, spends too much time world building her sword & planet fantasies and space operas, and makes museum-grade artifacts from cultures that never existed. Publishing credits: (as Marian Crane) ‘The Blood Orange Tree’, Such A Pretty Face anthology, Meisha-Merlin 2000. ‘Saints and Heroes’, Thrones of Desire anthology, Cleis Press 2012.

Website | Twitter | eMail | Tumblr | Wattpad

Tour Schedule

6/26 Bonkers about Books

6/27 Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

6/28 MM Good Book Reviews

6/29 Boy Meets Boy Reviews

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6/30 Erotica For All

6/30 Dean Frech

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A Julia Review: Addict (The Cassie Tam Files #1) by Matt Doyle

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars

New Hopeland was built to be the centre of the technological age, but like everywhere else, it has its dark side. Assassins, drug dealers and crooked businessmen form a vital part of the city’s make-up, and sometimes, the police are in too deep themselves to be effective. But hey, there are always other options …

For P.I. Cassie Tam, business has been slow. So, when she’s hired to investigate the death of a local VR addict named Eddie Redwood, she thinks it’ll be easy money. All she has to do is prove to the deceased’s sister Lori that the local P.D. were right to call it an accidental overdose. The more she digs though, the more things don’t seem to sit right, and soon, Cassie finds herself knee deep in a murder investigation. But that’s just the start of her problems.

When the case forces Cassie to make contact with her drug dealing ex-girlfriend, Charlie Goldman, she’s left with a whole lot of long buried personal issues to deal with. Then there’s her client. Lori Redwood is a Tech Shifter, someone who uses a metal exoskeleton to roleplay as an animal. Cassie isn’t one to judge, but the Tech Shifting community has always left her a bit nervous. That wouldn’t be a problem if Lori wasn’t fast becoming the first person that she’s been genuinely attracted to since splitting with Charlie. Oh, and then there’s the small matter of the police wanting her to back off the case.

Easy money, huh? Yeah, right.

Addict by Matt Doyle is going to be the first volume in a series about P.I. Cassie Tam and the cases she will find herself confronted with. I was especially curious to see how the author would handle the mixing between Sci-Fi and Fantasy elements. As it turns out, I was not going to be disappointed.

The story takes place in a not-too-distant-future-version of our world where technology has advanced to play an even more prominent role in people’s everyday lives. I very much appreciated the approach the author has taken to introduce the reader to his world: by show, not tell. For the most part we simply get to witness how the characters interact with the technology that surrounds them. Here and there the protagonist Cassie Tam, from whose perspective the story is told, will offer an explanation as to how and why certain technological as well societal developments have taken place. The world-building is pretty solid and one can see that the author put a lot of thought into creating a sensible connection between the past (in other words our current time period) and the present in which the novel takes place. It was interesting to discover the numerous and imaginative ways humans have attempted to improve their lifestyles through various gadgets and applications – some with rather questionable success.

I took a liking to Cassie from the beginning because of her direct, nonchalant attitude and demeanour. She is not some kind of newbie but has already a number of successful cases under her belt at this point and it shows. Therefore, she has confidence in her abilities and methods to get things done while on the other hand, there is the occasional blast from the past Cassie is forced to deal with.

Lori (or Ink as she is known in her animal form) is a Tech Shifter who can take on the shape of a panther. I found it very interesting to learn about this more recently emerged group of individuals that have formed their own kind of subculture at this point. The author did a good job in giving the reader some insight into their historical development, technological workings and position within current society. Lori herself is a woman of strong character and conviction who nonetheless needs a way from time to time to escape the harsh and corrupt reality that simmers beneath the surface of New Hopeland. She finds this kind of comfort by changing into her animal form and I appreciated how honestly she admits as much.

The two women play well off each other and the ever so playful, slightly cynical way the two interact with one another was fun to witness as well as the gradual development of their relationship amidst the dangerous events unfolding around them.

The crime story itself is well-paced and not lacking in suspenseful moments as well as peculiar and interesting individuals that Cassie has to deal with in one way or another. Sometimes I might have liked even a bit more details on characters, their looks and living conditions. All in all, this novel represented an enjoyable read and solid start for a new series and I am looking forward to reading about Cassie’s next case.

The cover art by Natasha Snow is not mind-blowing but it still looks nice and since this volume is intended to be the first in a series focusing on Cassie Tam, it seems appropriate to display her on the cover itself. Nevertheless, I would have very much enjoyed seeing a drawing of Ink or another Tech Shifter.

Sales Links

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aBook Details:

ebook, 149 pages

Published May 8, 2017

by NineStar Press

ISBN: 978-1-947139-03-9

Edition Language: English

Matt Doyle Talks Play Lists and his latest release ‘Addict’ (guest post, excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Addict

Series: The Cassie Tam Files, book 1

Author: Matt Doyle

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: May 8, 2017

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 56000

Genre: science fiction, Sci-fi, futuristic, addiction, friends to lovers, private detective, lesbian

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Book Playlist by Matt Doyle

So, when I wrote Addict, I had a lot of different songs playing in the background, and each one played for different reasons. In fact, there were times that I was playing one or two songs on loop while writing certain scenes because they just felt ‘right’ for that moment. I’ll put a link to the list at the bottom of the post, but in the meantime, these are the songs that I was using:

New Hopeland City Themes

These are the songs that resonated with me in terms of reminding me of the book’s setting. New Hopeland was built to be a sign of hope for the future, but it fell into corruption quite quickly. That being the case, two songs by Canada’s The Tea Party spring to mind. Both Babylon and Temptation offer a good representation of how the city is for those that live there. Musically, they have a tech infused industrial feel to them, and they lyrically deal with the things that New Hopeland’s darker underbelly thrives on: tempting and seducing others, and the idea of falling low. If I was writing a scene that specifically dealt with glimpses into this side of the city, then these were my go to tracks. At the same time though, the city was always intended to be a positive, and many still try to make it as good as it can be. There hits a point for all of them where they need to decide whether to give in to the corruption or say, “Hey, I’m doing things my way.” In terms of that lingering feeling of hope and trying to be what they want to be rather than what the city wants them to be, I always hear Round Here by Counting Crows, in particular the extended live versions. There’s just something about Adam Duritz’s voice when he performs this live that really takes you on a journey and sucks you into it all.

Cassie Tam Themes

Cassie is such a joy to write because there are a lot of layers to her. Depending on who she’s speaking to or what she’s set out to achieve at any given time, there’s just so much to her, and I love that. Part of her character has been shaped by various tragic events, both in her distant and recent past. Being a Chinese-Canadian, I found that I stuck with The Tea Party for representation of that, in particular the track Walking Wounded, as I felt that Cassie really was walking wounded at times, especially in terms of letting people get close to her. Next is Second Chance by Shinedown. This one really plays into Cassie’s distant past and in particular her relationship with her mother and how that was affected by the way that she lives her life, at least in terms of her approach to her job. Shinedown are actually a band that gets mentioned directly by Cassie as one of her favourites too, and that is because she remains hopeful that she can be a good person. Shinedown’s lyrics here really encompass that. The other band that she mentions is The Wildhearts and I often turned to Geordie in Wonderland by them as a Cassie Song. Again, the song deals with taking the good and the bad, and there’s something wonderfully endearing about this live version with the crowd taking the lead.

Lori Redwood Themes

At the start of the book, Lori is confused by her brother’s death. She’s hurting, but she’s reaching out and trying to uncover the truth and to understand what happened. Alone You Breathe by Savatage always put me in this frame of mind when I needed to deal with Lori’s views in that regard. In sticking with the same band, Back To A Reason actually felt very representative of Cassie’s journey with Lori for me, from the giving what she could with the case, to the questioning of herself that Lori caused, and in the end the resolution of the heavier themes into admitting what you feel. By the end of the book, I see Lori as a character in Heal My Wounds by Poets of the Fall. She’s in a delicate state, and everything is teetering on the edge, but she can heal her wounds if she wants to try.

General Songs

Finally, there were a couple of tracks that I listened to a lot while writing the book, each far different reasons. Last Ride Of The Day by Nightwish was a constant favourite because it summed up part of the story for me. The idea of life being a bit of Carnival with so many acts going on, but trying to find ways to enjoy it and embracing what you can in it. Also by the Finnish rockers, was Storytime, a song about discovering yourself and what is important to you through the stories that you read. In the same way, Cassie has to discover what matter to her through the story that she’s living by investigating Lori’s case.

So, there you have it: The music that helped shape Cassie Tam and her world. If you want to check the songs out, then you can find the playlist here:

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL1P5KltuBriLysLz7hPmsIm57QZ9I7AqL

Synopsis

Easy money, huh? Yeah, right.

Excerpt

I always did like Venetian blinds. There’s something quaint about them in a retro-tacky kinda way. Plus, they’re pretty useful for sneaking a peek out the front of the building if I feel the need. That’s something that you just can’t do with the solid, immovable metal slats that come as a standard in buildings these days. That said, a thick sheet of steel is gonna offer you a damn sight more security than thin, bendable vinyl, so I keep mine installed. Just in case.

Another round of knocking rattles the front door, louder this time than the one that woke me.

The clock says 23:47, and the unfamiliar low-end car out front screams “Don’t notice me, I’m not worth your time,” which makes for the perfect combo to stir up the paranoia that the evening’s beer and horror-film session left behind. This is my own fault. My adverts are pretty descriptive in terms of telling what I do: lost pets, cheating partners, theft, protection, retrieval of people and items, other odds and sods that the city’s finest won’t touch…I’ve got ways to deal with it all. That’s right, I’m a real odd-job gal. The one thing that I don’t put in there are business hours. The way I see it, even the missing pet cases usually leave me wandering the streets at half-past reasonable, so what’s the point in asking people to call between certain hours?

More knocking, followed this time by the squeak of my letter box and a voice. “Hello? Cassandra Tam?”

It’s funny, really. For all the tech advances that the world has made, no one has been able to improve upon the simple open-and-shut letter box. I stumble my way through the dark and wave dismissively at the frosted glass. The light switch and the keypad for the door lock are conveniently placed right next to each other on the wall to the right of the door, so welcoming my apparent guest is a nice, easy affair. The lock clicks a moment after the lights flood the room, and I pull the door open.

“Cassie,” I say, turning and skulking my way back into the room. “Or Caz. Drop the Tam.”

I hear a sniff behind me, and the lady from the letter box asks, “Are you drunk?”

“If I pass out in the next five minutes, then yes,” I reply, turning the kettle on. I’d left it full, ready for the morning, but I guess this is close enough. “Take a seat at the table. Would you prefer tea or coffee? I’d offer beer, but since I reek of it, I guess I must’ve finished it.”

Footsteps creep unapologetically across the room, and a chair squeaks on the floor. Good. If you can’t deal with a snarky response to something, don’t say it all, and if you can deal with it, then as far as I’m concerned you don’t need to apologise.

“Coffee,” the lady says. “So, do you always see potential clients in your underwear, or is it just my lucky day?” Her voice has a slightly playful edge to it, but with a sarcastic kick to round it off.

The business portion of my apartment comprises entirely of a small open-plan room separating my kitchen from my living room. And by open plan, I mean an allotted space that encroaches on both territories but is conveniently large enough to house what I need. Or, in other words, a table, four chairs, and nothing else. Since filing went near entirely digital, filing cabinets have pretty much become obsolete, so the two that I found dumped outside the building when I bought the place currently live in my bedroom, and contain a mix of quick access work stuff and personal files I’d rather not have floating on the net. Most things, though, I store electronically, the same as everything else.

I rarely use the business table to eat, read, or any of that junk, so until this evening it’s been entirely empty for a good few weeks. The lady sitting there now is studying me, I can see, and probably wondering if this was a mistake. Whatever she may have expected, a Chinese-Canadian gal of average height in a cami top and a loose pair of sleep shorts most likely wasn’t it. For what it’s worth, though, I’m studying her just the same. She’s a lithe-looking thing, dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a plain black fitted top under a leather jacket. If the metal plugs running down her shaven head like a shiny, rubber-tipped Mohawk weren’t a giveaway for what she is, the light scarring punctuating the outer edges of her pale blue eyes certainly would be. She’s a Tech Shifter, and like most of her ilk, she looks like a punk rocker gone cyborg.

Purchase

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Meet the Author

Matt Doyle lives in the South East of England and shares his home with a wide variety of people and animals, as well as a fine selection of teas. He has spent his life chasing dreams, a habit which has seen him gain success in a great number of fields. To date, this has included spending ten years as a professional wrestler, completing a range of cosplay projects, and publishing multiple works of fiction.

These days, Matt can be found working on far too many novels at once, blogging about anime, comics, and games, and plotting and planning what other things he’ll be doing to take up what little free time he has.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | eMail

Tour Schedule

5/8 – Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

5/8 – Queer Sci Fi

5/9 – Oh My Shelves

5/10 – Booklover Sue

5/11 – The Novel Approach

5/12 – love bytes reviews

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In the Science Fiction Spotlight: Ardulum: First Don by J.S. Fields (exclusive excerpt)

Ardulum: First Don by J.S. Fields
Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: February 27
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34109678-ardulum

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Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words is happy to host J.S. Fields today on tour with Ardulum: First Don.

Synopsis

Ardulum. The planet that vanishes. The planet that sleeps.

Neek makes a living piloting the dilapidated tramp transport, Mercy’s Pledge, and smuggling questionable goods across systems blessed with peace and prosperity. She gets by—but only just. In her dreams, she is still haunted by thoughts of Ardulum, the traveling planet that, long ago, visited her homeworld. The Ardulans brought with them agriculture, art, interstellar technology…and then disappeared without a trace, leaving Neek’s people to worship them as gods.

Neek does not believe—and has paid dearly for it with an exile from her home for her heretical views.

Yet, when the crew stumbles into an armed confrontation between the sheriffs of the Charted Systems and an unknown species, fate deals Neek an unexpected hand in the form of a slave girl—a child whose ability to telepathically manipulate cellulose is reminiscent of that of an Ardulan god. Forced to reconcile her beliefs, Neek chooses to protect her, but is the child the key to her salvation, or will she lead them all to their deaths?

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex
Pairing: Female/Female
Length: 83500

Genre: Literary Fiction, Science Fiction, NineStar Press, LGBT, lesbian, bisexual, space opera, aliens, bonded, captivity, coming of age, criminals, kidnapping, pilot, religion, science, slow burn, smugglers, space, spaceships, telekinesis, telepathyExcerpt

Excerpt

Exclusive Excerpt

In this excerpt, Neek, the pilot of the tramp transport Mercy’s Pledge, stumbles into a battle between the supposed sheriffs of the Charted Systems, and an unknown alien species. This is a significant event, because the Systems have been at peace, absolute peace, for years, so conflict of this magnitude is unheard of. Something is clearly of value on the Risalian ship, and crew of the Pledge are about to have that ‘something’ dumped into their laps.

“Get those skiffs off our tail!” Captain Yorden Kuebrich yelled as Neek rounded the corner.

She looked out the viewscreen just in time to see the Pledge—her engines dead—exit the Callis Wormhole into the middle of a much-unexpected dogfight. A wedge-shaped Risalian skiff zipped past the Pledge, catching the edge of the ship on its wing, and started her into a slow spin. A pod, deep purple and about half the size of the skiff, chased the skiff and grazed their starboard flank. Neek braced herself against the console and heard Yorden tumble into the wall behind her, his substantial girth denting the aluminum.

Mentally cursing the ship’s poor artificial gravity, Neek launched herself into the pilot’s chair, grabbed the yoke, and scoured the latest damage report. “Aft stabilizer is shot,” she called out after checking the computer. Other skiffs near them suddenly swooped back into a larger group, and the Pledge was, for the moment, left alone. Neek released the yoke and let her fingers move deftly over the interface. “Those new spray-on cellulose binders for the hull are holding, but only just. What’s left of the Minoran armor plating is now officially cracked beyond repair.”

She swiveled to see the captain buckling himself into a much larger version of her own chair. His brown hair puffed about his head, per usual, but his body language spoke of surprise and tension. That concerned Neek because Yorden was old enough to have lived through actual conflicts. If anyone knew how to react in a situation like this, it was him.

“Were we just attacked?” she asked incredulously. Neek took a closer look out the viewscreen. The rectangular cutter that sparkled with pinpricks of light and the wedge-shaped, agile skiffs were Risalian. The pods—both the smaller purple ones and the frigate-sized, maroon ones—were unfamiliar. Their formations were just as strange, stacked in columns like stones on a riverbank instead of in pyrimidal and spherical formations like Systems ships would. “Are those all Charted Systems ships?”

Yorden threw up his hands in disgust. “They’re not just Charted Systems ships—they’re Risalian ships. The cutter and skiffs are, anyway. No clue on the pods. What those blue-skinned bastards are doing out here with fully weaponized ships, I can only guess. However, they’re firing lasers. If we lose our armor and take a hit from any of those, we are space dust.”

“Comforting,” Neek mumbled. She hadn’t noticed the laser ports on any of the ships, but now that she looked closer, all of the vessels were covered with armor plating and had at least two laser turrets each.

Neek continued to watch as the pods begin to cluster around a Risalian cutter. A pod ship zipped beneath the cutter, firing wildly at its underside, before making a quick right turn and heading back to a larger pod. Five others followed suit. The cutter’s shielding began to splinter, but the ship remained where it was.

Neek leaned towards the viewscreen, still unsure what she was seeing. “The Risalian ships aren’t chasing, they’re just defending. What is going on? If they’re going to appoint themselves sheriffs of the Charted Systems, they could at least fight back.”

Yorden smacked his hand against the wall, loosing a shower of dust. “Something on that Risalian ship is holding their attention. Get us out of here, before either of them gets any closer.” He pointed to a cluster of ships to Neek’s right, and her eyes followed. Little flashes of bright light sparked and then died intermittently as ships were destroyed, their flotsam creating an ever-expanding ring. A large piece of metal plating floated past the Pledge’s port window. The edge caught and left a thin scratch in the fiberglass as it slid off.

“What are they protecting that is so damn important?” Neek wondered out loud and then snorted. “Something worth more than our hold full of diamond rounds and cellulose-laced textiles?” she added cheekily.

Scowling, Yorden pushed Neek’s hand away from the computer and began his own scan of the Pledge’s systems. “Communications are still up, but I don’t think either party is listening right now.” Frustrated, he kicked the underside of the console. “Try one of them. Better than being crushed.”

“Captain, come on. We are dead in space. If another one comes at us, why don’t we just fire at it? It’s better than being rammed.” She pointed upwards at a circular hole in the ceiling. “What’s the benefit of flying a ship so ancient it falls apart if you’re not taking advantage of the grandfathered weapons system?”

Meet the Author

Author Links

Website: http://www.chlorociboria.com/

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/galactoglucoman

eMail: chlorociboria@gmail.com

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2/27 – Wicked Faerie’s Tales and Reviews – http://wickedfaeriesreviews.blogspot.com

2/27 – Books,Dreams,Life – http://staceyschneller06.wordpress.com

2/28 – Molly Lolly; Reader, Reviewer, Lover of Words – https://mollylollyauthor.wordpress.com

3/1 – Queer Sci Fi – https://queerscifi.com/

3/1 – Celticlady’s Reviews – http://www.celticladysreviews.blogspot.com

3/2 – Fangirl Moments and My Two Cent – http://fangirlmomentsandmytwocents.blogspot.com

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Release Day Blitz: Learning to Want by Tami Veldura (excerpt)

Title: Learning To Want

Author: Tami Veldura

Publisher: Nine Star Press

Release Date: November 21 2016

Heat Level: 4 – Lots of Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 30k words

Genre: Romance, Science Fiction, BDSM (spanking, dominance, denial)

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Synopsis

Khoram is an enforcer, a bodyguard, but his boss has just betrayed him. Now he’s stranded on a desert planet he’s never heard of, chained to the only other human around.

Atash grew up in the cracks of Dulia’s complex social structure, where dominance and submission are a man’s worth. He’s struggled for years on a lower caste but Khoram could be his ticket to a better life if they can find common ground.

Atash wants to teach Khoram the art of submitting by choice and maybe make a name for himself along the way. Khoram, however, isn’t here to play Atash’s political games. He’s going to escape, if his former employer doesn’t see him killed first.

Excerpt

Khoram couldn’t help testing his bonds. The metal chain between his hands and feet rattled, laughing at his attempts. The line of slaves shuffled forward one space, and Khoram was dragged along whether he wanted it or not. A lot of things were happening whether he wanted them to or not. The food he ate, the beer he drank, the clothes they took, the hands that verified he was in working condition. He flinched at the memory.

To distract himself he looked up and tried to count the days. Four behind bars on Elliot’s ship thanks to good-for-nothing Nik, six on the small space hopper, three in the holding cells while he and the Ohiri waited for another connection, two in the transport that left them here on Dulia, five—no, six now—at the auction house. Twenty-one days for Nik to cover his tracks. Almost a full cycle for the trail to go cold. Khoram grit his teeth. At the very least something different was happening.

The slave line shuffled forward.

Here, off stage, they kept the rooms mostly dim. It didn’t diminish Dulia’s oppressive heat in the slightest, but the closer Khoram was guided to the glowing roll-up door of the slave block, the more he longed for home. His fitful dreams tortured him with visions of Avois’s wet jungles and waterfalls. He hadn’t actually been home in over a decade, too busy making his fortune as an enforcer and bodyguard, but he was starting to see the error of his ways. Or at least the error of Nik’s.

Khoram licked his lips. He pressed them together, already regretting it. They’d been chapped dry for days. His wrists and ankles chafed under the iron. These were better discomforts than the lingering slick between his legs and exactly what lay on the other side of that bright doorway.

A Dulia lizardman flared the red frill around his neck as he walked the slave line, clicking orders in his native tongue and emphasizing them with a small electric prod. Khoram had tested the prod’s worth enough times to know it could knock him on his ass without much effort. He looked away from the mercenary and shuffled forward with the line.

He wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. The group he was chained to consisted largely of Ohiri natives: light-skinned, five-foot average, and generally docile. They were just as likely to stay in line without the chains and prod. Khoram stood out among them: a tall, dark, massive human furious in his captivity. Khoram was highly trained and just waiting for a chance to show it. In a fair fight, the lizardmen would fold like paper and they knew it. He’d never been unchained, left alone, or handled by fewer than four, and they were always armed with their electric prods. Always on alert.

Khoram grit his teeth. From capture to sale, he hadn’t managed a single successful bid for freedom, and he’d tried more than a few times. Now he took a breath and let his patience steady his hands, let the line of slaves tug him along. If the lizardmen couldn’t be overcome, whoever purchased him could be. Khoram wasn’t entirely familiar with Dulia’s customs, but if the easily dominated Ohiri were slaves of choice, Khoram wasn’t going to fetch much interest or profit.

The slave in front of him was unleashed from the line and yanked out the bright door. A lizardman pointed at the vacated spot, and Khoram shuffled forward to occupy it. The heat pulsed through the door in bright waves, bringing scents of sand, sweat, and a light spice that was unfamiliar. He could hear voices, now: the auctioneer yelling in rapid Duliana, the crowd barking their bids in turn, the sound of rhythmic smacking, a chorus of cheers. Another winning bid.

Then Khoram’s chains were unleashed and, flanked by two lizardmen with prods, he was led through the door. Hot metal rattled under his feet, and the blinding sun limited his view of more than the circular platform onto which he was pulled. A lizardman unhooked his wrists from his ankles, instead latching the chain to something that hoisted his arms suddenly overhead. His breath whooshed out. They tightened his ankle chains to the platform, and with a metal screech, it slowly began to rotate. They were showing him off. A tingle of awareness tripped over his skin and exposed groin—the attention of a hundred eyes.

Khoram squinted. The auctioneer espoused in Duliana for several minutes, likely explaining why the hell this bear of a human was on the block instead of a lithe Ohiri, spinning his assets to garner the crowd’s favor. Khoram knew a snake-oil salesman when he saw one, even if he didn’t share their language.

The platform turned him, and he faced the crowd. More of a species mix than he expected. Lizardmen were not the primary slave-owners if this was a decent selection. Mostly tall Frea, in fact, their black scales draped in white gossamer. They were members of Dulia’s refined upper caste, and other than video, this was the first he’d seen them. They weren’t known to ever leave Dulia, though they profited from the wider galaxy’s trade gladly. Pockets of Slone-dogs made the most noise in the crowd. They barked in their hybrid dialect, likely obscene things Khoram didn’t want translated. He curled his lip at the closest pack, and they yipped at each other.

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Meet the Author

Queer romance, science fiction, fantasy, steampunk, and YA fiction author. I’m only here until I reach escape velocity. Artist. Gardener. Gamer. Raynauds. Asexual.

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Blog Tour: Adrift by Isabelle Adler (excerpt and giveaway)

Title: Adrift

Series: Staying Afloat, Book 1

Author: Isabelle Adler

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: January 30

Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 66000

Genre: Romance, Science Fiction, NineStar Press, sci-fi, futuristic, aliens, military, smugglers, pirates, demisexual, pilots, action/adventure, space battle, age-gap, slow-burn

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Synopsis

Some jobs are just too good to be true.

Captain Matt Spears learns this the hard way after a mysterious employer hires his ship to hunt down an ancient alien artifact but insists on providing his own pilot. Ryce Faine is handsome and smart, but Matt has rarely met anyone more obnoxious. With tensions running high, it isn’t until they are attacked by the hostile Alraki that Matt grudgingly begins to respect Ryce’s superior skills, respect that transforms into a tentative attraction.

Little did he know that their biggest challenge would be reaching their destination, an abandoned alien base located on a distant moon amid a dense asteroid field. But when Matt learns that Ryce isn’t completely who he says he is and the artifact is more than he bargained for, he is faced with a difficult choice. One that might change the balance of forces in the known galaxy.

Matt doesn’t take well to moral dilemmas; he prefers the easy way out. But that might not be possible anymore, when his past comes back to haunt him at the worst possible moment. When faced with a notorious pirate carrying a personal grudge, the fragile connection Matt has formed with Ryce might be the only thing that he can count on to save them both.

Excerpt

“No way,” Matt said. “No way in hell.”

The low hum of music and the loud voices threatened to swallow his response. The Blue Giant was like any other canteen on any other small-time maintenance space station, offering cheap drinks and free talk, catering to drifters, smugglers, freelance pilots, and the dregs of every known society. The strong smell of synthetic spirits enveloped the crowded room in an almost tangible cloud. It really wasn’t the best location for conducting business, even over interstellar communications channels, but one could stand being cooped up in a spaceship for only so long.

Matt ignored the noise best he could as he squinted at the commlink screen. This wasn’t a regular type of job, but then again, freelancers didn’t exactly have regular jobs. As it was, this one promised to be very well paying. His potential client had introduced himself as Mr. Ari, though Matt suspected it wasn’t his real name. They usually weren’t. At the moment, he was more concerned with Mr. Ari’s terms and conditions than with his identity, fake or otherwise.

“This is nonnegotiable,” Ari said firmly. There was no image on-screen, just his computer-altered voice in the earpiece. “I require that my own pilot navigate your ship to destination. He’s the only one who will know the exact route and the details of the mission. I’m merely hiring your ship to transport my man and provide him with assistance.”

“It’s my ship and I’m the only one flying her,” Matt said indignantly. “No way I’ll just let some stranger take over. Now, a passenger, that’s another matter. I’ve nothing against passengers, so long as they’re nice and quiet.” And good-looking, but he wasn’t about to say that to the client’s face, or to the lack thereof, as the case was. But another pilot? This was ridiculous. If the only thing this guy needed was a ship, there were much simpler alternatives than hiring Matt’s services.

“As I’ve said before, Captain, this job requires subtlety and a very specific set of skills,” Ari said. Even with the distortion, he somehow managed to make “Captain” sound like an insult. “Which, with all due respect, I doubt you possess. This is a salvage mission, and the location must remain a secret until you get there. To put it simply, you sit back, let my man do the job, get back safely, and collect the cash—as long as you keep your mouth firmly shut about any of this. I’ve been told that your ship is fast and well equipped, and that you are discreet. I’d hate to think that I’ve been misinformed.”

Matt took a long sip of his beer to stall for time. The beer had a distinct sour artificial aftertaste, but at least it was cold. “What kind of salvage?”

“An abandoned alien site. I’m afraid I can’t divulge further information at this point, other than it would require a jump to another sector.”

“Huh,” Matt grunted. The guy was definitely too well-spoken to be a scavenger; on the other hand, off-world archaeological salvage (if that was indeed Ari’s intent) was usually done for strictly academic purposes and required government permits. Any other form of salvage, whether human or alien, was considered theft and was absolutely illegal. That and some other guy had to fly his ship? There was no way in hell he’d agree to that. This Mr. Ari could either fuck off or pay him way more than he was offering. “Well, you make it sound very tempting and all, but still. A pilot has his pride, you know. No one takes my seat, twenty thousand Fed-creds or no.”

“Name your price,” Ari said tersely.

“One hundred thousand,” Matt said, testing the waters.

“Done,” Ari said with a finality that left Matt a little dizzy. He was sure Ari would balk at the asking price. He wondered belatedly whether he could have gotten away with being even bolder. “My pilot will meet you at Dock G5 in two hours. You’ll get twenty percent of your fee now, and the rest when the job is done.”

“Agreed,” Matt said. How did this guy know exactly where his ship was? Shit, he could hardly back down on the offer now. “I’ll send you the account number.”

“Now, Mr. Spears, I must stress again how delicate this assignment is.”

“Of course,” Matt said. Really, this was tedious. Every client thought they were the only one in the galaxy who had dirty secrets. He wouldn’t have been in this line of work for as long as he had if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and his eyes averted.

“You might encounter…competition,” Ari said. “While this is unlikely to happen, there is a chance that other parties might try to intercept you.”

“What do you mean, ‘intercept’?” Matt asked suspiciously. “Just to make it clear—I’m a runner, not a mercenary. If it’s something dangerous—”

“The reason I’m not willing to be more specific is precisely because I don’t want any information to leak out and pose a threat to your mission,” Ari said, sounding a bit too vague for Matt’s comfort. “However, you should be on alert, and report any incidents to my agent.”

Now he wanted him to report to the guy? Matt was utterly and completely done with reporting to anybody for the rest of his life. He was more than capable of handling any situation, and he wasn’t about to play the chain-of-command game with his client’s representative. However, he kept it prudently to himself. You didn’t sass somebody who was willing to shell out all those credits.

“Got it,” he said dryly. “I’ll be on alert. Anything else?”

“You may discuss further details with my man, and he’ll be handling all future communications. Good luck, Captain.”

“My pleasure,” Matt said. He disconnected the call and sagged back into his chair, pushing away the beer. He had a very, very bad feeling.

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Meet the Author

A voracious reader from the age of five, Isabelle Adler has always dreamed of one day putting her own stories into writing. She loves traveling, art, and science, and finds inspiration in all of these. Her favorite genres include sci-fi, fantasy, and historical adventure. She also firmly believes in the unlimited powers of imagination and caffeine.

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Tour Schedule

1/30 Love Bytes

1/30 Stories That Make You Smile

1/31 Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words

2/1 Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

2/1 Prism Book Alliance

2/2 Happily Ever Chapter

2/2 Reviews by Tammy and Kim

2/3 We Three Queens

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~ Scattered Thoughts and Rogue Words E.M Hamill Interview ~

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Chapter One

Jordan

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Character Bio – Valier Antonin

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Book Playlist by Matt Doyle

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Ardulum: First Don by J.S. Fields Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: February 27 Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34109678-ardulum

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Share this:

Ardulum: First Don by J.S. Fields
Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: February 27
Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34109678-ardulum