Love Across the
Universe Interview Question #13
One of the things that new MFA students at Seton Hill’s
Writing Popular Fiction program are told is to sit down with their schedule and
find time to write, and to claim a spot in their homes that is just for them to
write in. If that wasn’t possible, try to get out of the house. Some authors
with enough income actually rent office space where they go to write every day.
We asked the Love Across the Universe authors
where they write, and why that spot works for them.
Elsa M. Carruthers—“All
B+ut You”
Usually in a chair with my Alphasmart. I need a device that
is not able to connect to the internet.
M.T. DeSantis—“The
Princess of Sands”
I pretty much write at my desk. It allows me to stay
focused, and it’s the most comfortable thing for the shoulders.
Traci Douglass—“A Dream to Build a Kiss On”
I have an office in my home, but right now I write at my
dining room table. It’s right by my patio doors, so I have a nice view outside
and my dog’s bed is there so she can nap while I work.
A.E. Hayes—“Tristan’s
Tryst”
When I’m not down in St. Michaels, I tend to write in one of
two locations: in my home office, which was built in our former garage, or at
Starbucks, because free iced coffee refills keep me alive and alert.
Serena Jayne—“You
Only Love Once”
Most times I write at the kitchen table. It works most days,
but when my kitties are particularly needy, it gets tricky. Sometimes I write
in coffee shops. The best feeling is when the words are flowing and I discover
a kitty curled by my feet. It doesn’t get any better than that.
L.J.
Longo—“Breathless”
I write anywhere, any time. I wrote drafts of the ending of
‘Breathless’ on my phone during train rides. I do have a writing desk, where I
get most of my work done.
Oriana
Maret—“Renewal”
I write at my desk in my office. I have two screens, and
that allows me the freedom to compare notes or look things up without
interrupting whatever I happen to be working on. I’m terrible at multi-tasking,
and so settling into place and concentrating on the task at hand frees up my
process to work its best.
Cara McKinnon—“The
Pirates and the Pacifist”
I have a small Cape Cod style house, so the second storey
has dramatically sloping ceilings and the livable space is somewhat cramped. My
L-shaped desk is shoved up into one corner by a window where the ceiling slopes
down and is topped with two monitors and piles of books and notes. But I have
been much more successful writing here, at an established desk, than anywhere
else I’ve tried. I think it helps me to consider writing as my job. When I sit
down here at my desk, I am going to work. It’s just a corner in an otherwise
open room (my bedroom is down an open hallway on the other side of the space),
and one of our priorities for our next house is having an actual office for me,
but for now this is functional.
Sheri Queen—“Red
Sand”
I write wherever and whenever I can. I do find I’m quite
productive in a quiet place outdoors that’s near water.
Mary
Rogers—“Breakfast on Pluto”
I write at my desk in the upstairs den, on the front porch,
in the backyard, everywhere, but mostly at my desk. I’m all set up there, so it’s good for me.
Less interruptions.
Emmerite
Sundberg—“Fluid”
I write anywhere. I actually wrote the bulk of this story at
the library, but my living room is just as acceptable.
K.W. Taylor—“Reprogramming”
I just adopted a kitten this summer, and as he’s extremely
small and prone to get lost in my house, I’ve been writing in my home gym,
which we’ve temporarily repurposed as “his” room until he’s bigger. He’s
usually climbing on me while I use a step stool as a makeshift desk. Not quite
my usual set-up, but the room gets a lot of daytime sunshine, which has been
helpful for writing the scenes of sun and beach in this story.
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Stars and Stone Books
Date of Publication: August 1 2017
ISBN-10: 0-9977081-8-2
ISBN-13: 978-0-9977081-8-9
ASIN: B071JSHCGC
12 Stories of Science Fiction Romance Set on Intergalactic Shore
#spacebeachlove
#spacebeachlove
Summer love is summer love, no matter the planet. Climb aboard your spacecraft or time machine and travel across time and space with these thirteen tales of love on beaches in the future and among the stars.
Includes stories by USA Today Bestselling Author Traci Douglass, Cara McKinnon, Rhonda Jackson Joseph, A.E. Hayes, Sheri Queen, M.T. DeSantis, L.J. Longo, K.W. Taylor, Mary Rogers, Elsa M. Carruthers, Emmerite Sundberg, Serena Jayne, and Oriana Maret.
Red
Sand
Sheri
Queen
Book Description:
If she can only save one thing,
which will it be—the red beaches of Mars or a love she can’t imagine living
without?
Bria has just been fired from her
job as an ecologist at Trans Life Corp, the global leader in virtual reality
living, and she’s devastated that her life’s work has ended with nothing more
than a pink chip severance package. She’s been deemed obsolete in a world where
every aspect of life has been automated, and even relationships are carried out
in virtual environments. Then Bria’s sister, Samira, enters her in a singles
sweepstakes to an exclusive Mars resort to force Bria to have a little fun for
once, and Bria is one of the lucky winners.
Thayne is the owner of the
exclusive Mars resort and has set his sights on expanding to a remote area on
the other side of the planet. He is looking for the right person to lead his
new venture when he comes across Bria. She’s exactly what he needs. His success
is driven by his gift for acquiring rare talent, and he always gets what he
wants—until now.
Bria refuses Thayne’s job offer.
She’s not interested in helping destroy another ecosystem for corporate greed,
and she’s definitely not interested in any kind of romantic
entanglement—virtual or real. Yet despite her better judgment, she’s drawn to
his zest for life and his creative nature. But finding a way to keep their
clashing values from destroying their chance at love proves harder than Bria
could have thought possible.
Excerpt Red Sand:
The strength of
water pushing against sand captivated Bria. If only she had such power, she
could change the world—or at least her little part of it.
But this was
just a miniature version of the real thing. She flipped the rectangular,
glass-enclosed frame over to watch the liquid bump the tiny particles into
different shapes. Reds, browns, and tans jostled one another until the sand
settled into wavy mounds at the base of the container. Bubbles rose to the top
and burst. Bria turned the device again and again, repeating the process, absorbed
with how different the formations appeared with each rotation. Life was like
this crude imitation of a sandy beach, always changing when getting pushed
around by a greater force.
Here she sat in
her repurposed home on Boxcar Alley with no job, no more research, and no
future at Trans Life Corp.
Earth was
screwed. She knew it. Trans Life knew it.
Did the board
members care that nature and all her beauty had been overrun by technology? Not
a bit. They were already working on expanding to other planets.
To her shame,
she had to admit her role in the virtual living that was taking root and
growing weed-like over the planet. She had utilized all she’d learned as an
ecologist and worked with other experts to engineer its equivalent in the realm
of virtual habitats. She was as much to blame as Trans Life Corp for how the
world had been altered into a state of disconnect from what was real—what you
could truly feel, taste, and smell.
What she
couldn’t have foreseen was the rapidity with which people embraced artificial
environments, especially the Love Triangle, where all your pleasurable sensory
needs could be met with the help of a CompuBot—available with or without
interacting with another online user.
About
the Author:
Sheri Queen received her MFA in
Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. She grew up in the Hudson
Valley region of New York—an area she loves to depict as a backdrop for her
stories—and enjoys traveling to new places where she is constantly discovering
inspirations for her writing. She especially loves visiting old graveyards.
Website: https://sheriqueen.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/SWQueenFlemming
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/SheriQueenMFA/
A
Dream to Build a Kiss On
Traci
Douglass
Book Description:
A
Dreamworld Short Novella
Can passion bloom between a
bookish botanist and an analytical android?
Adam has served as a devoted
assistant since the day he was created twenty-six years ago. His ordered world
centers on logic and logistics, until a strong solar flare causes a glitch in
his synthe-soul circuits and his normal routines are thrown into chaos. In a
flash, his universe is filled with wild, dark desires that until now Adam has
only imagined.
Jillian Lewis has spent her
entire career in search of the rare, elusive Shadow Moondrop Orchid. She’s
forsaken any semblance of a normal life in pursuit of her goal and now has the
ultimate prize within her reach. By securing a coveted invitation to the fabled
Dreamworld Resort, she has just three days in which to locate and record her
once-a-century flower before it disappears again.
With the clock ticking, will they
surrender to the unpredictability of love or will their chance at forever
disappear like stardust on the summer wind?
Excerpt A Dream to Build a Kiss On:
2069 – Remote
tropical island in the Atlantic Ocean
Adam desired
Jillian Lewis, and not just for her beautiful brain.
The desire, of
course, was completely unexpected and entirely new, especially for an analytical
android such as himself. Add in the fact he’d never actually seen the visiting
botanist face to face, let alone heard her voice, and it was all a bit
disconcerting. Until this point, they’d only communicated through electronic
messages and then only ever about her upcoming stay at the exclusive Dreamworld
Resort where he resided or her plants or science in general.
But still, her
words intrigued him.
She spoke
passionately of her specimens, the exotic flowers she’d nurtured to maturity
from rare and ancient seeds. She also freely shared her knowledge of said
specimens with him, answering all his endless questions without ever once
becoming annoyed or bored as many of the resort’s other guests sometimes did.
“Happy
twenty-sixth birthday, my friend,” Reziel Shaytan said, clapping Adam on the
shoulder as he walked into his office. “Have you decided what you’d like for
your gift?”
“Gift, sir?”
Adam asked. “Technically, this isn’t my birthday since I was not conceived in a
human womb, nor did I undergo the delivery process.”
Rez gave him a
look, taking a seat in the black leather executive’s chair behind his massive
desk. He was Adam’s creator and owner of the resort. “What shall we call it
then? Your anniversary of existence?”
Adam considered
the question a moment. “Yes. I think that would be appropriate, sir.”
“Fine.” He shook
his head. “Abnormally strong solar flares are expected this weekend. Have you
taken the necessary precautions?”
“Yes, sir.” Adam
had been created to be as human as possible. His operating software,
Synthe-soul, endowed him with both keen intuition and the ability to process
emotions. And yes, those processes were sometimes prone to glitches—especially
during times of low charge or erroneous electrical storms—but overall, his
humanity grew stronger each day. “I doubled my charge time last night and I’ve
scheduled my system updates for early this afternoon, to avoid any
interference.”
“Good.” Rez sat
back and scrubbed a hand over his face, the strain of recent events evident in
the faint lines around his eyes and the tightness of his lips. Adam did his
best to protect his master, but there was only so much one android could do
when the man’s very existence was forbidden. Half djinn, half angel, Rez had
been cursed to walk the earth alone—at least until Doctor Harold Thomas had
tumbled into his life, quite literally, and their two souls had become one.
Soul mates. Adam had read about such bonds, but hadn’t experienced that swift
rush of acute longing for another being since his activation. He had all the
right components for human physical intimacy—even a healthy regenerating supply
of nanocyte sperm to create his own hybrid children someday—but he’d yet to
meet a person with whom he wanted to share such a deep emotional connection.
“Adam, please
also double check with our pilot in Miami to make sure the guests arrive well
before the flare occurs,” Rez said. “I don’t want another debacle like the last
time.”
The “last time”
had been a newlywed couple on their honeymoon. Their flight had taken off as
usual from the airport, heading due south toward the uncharted island where
Dreamworld was located, when their aircraft had gotten caught in a time warp
flux and the poor unsuspecting couple had ended up in ancient Byzantium. It had
taken weeks, and all Rez’s immense powers, to get them back to the present
unharmed. Luckily, legends about the Bermuda Triangle had helped Adam cover his
friend’s magical tracks.
“Texting the
pilot now, sir.” He typed the message in his mind then used his internal circuits
to connect wirelessly with the pilot’s com unit. “And shall I check on the
orchid specimen as well?”
“Orchid? That’s
right. The botanist is coming today.”
“Yes, sir.” Adam
glanced at his computer again, Doctor Lewis’s latest email still up on his screen.
“May I ask you something, sir?”
“Go ahead.” Rez
sounded distracted as he sorted through his messages for the upcoming weekend
arrivals.
“Explain human
intimacy.”
He stopped and
stared at Adam. “Excuse me?”
“In all my years
of existence, I’ve yet to experience true human connection and intimacy.” Adam
frowned. “Not the physical components of the act. I’m well versed in all the
necessary techniques through my regular software updates. But the emotional
aspects are a bit more challenging. I wish to learn more so that one day, if I
encounter my soul mate, I will know what is happening and can respond
accordingly.”
“Ah, I see.”
Gaze narrowed, Rez walked around his desk to stand before Adam, his tailored
navy suit in direct contrast with the easy tropical luxury of the office’s
interior design. “I’m sorry, my friend, but that is knowledge even I can’t
conjure. True connection and intimacy between two people must grow
organically.” He crossed his arms and lowered his head. “Besides, with the
flare and our other guests, we don’t have much time. I’ll need your help to
guide the botanist to her orchid on the other side of the island. And I need
you to assess if she might be right for our other project.”
That project
included a new addition to the permanent staff on the island—a native species
conservationist. Available positions were rare at Dreamworld, and while Adam
appreciated Rez hiring another person to help share his workload, he would miss
his hours amongst the island’s forests, nurturing their growth and choosing
compatible new additions for the already rich ecosystem.
Disappointment
sparked through his circuits, though he did his best to hide it by adjusting
his wire-rimmed spectacles. “Of course, sir. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you,
Adam. Perhaps next weekend, when things aren’t so crazy, we can discuss your
gift again.”
“Fine, sir.
Shall I contact the botanist with her final boarding information?”
“Yes, please.”
Rez straightened, his expression thoughtful as he headed for the office door.
“Let her know everything will be ready when she arrives.” He stopped at the
threshold and turned back, his smile kind. “And don’t worry about making that
soul-deep connection, my friend. When the time is right, it will happen.
Perhaps when you least expect it.”
About the Author:
Traci is a USA Today Bestselling
Author of Contemporary and Paranormal Romance. Her stories feature sizzling
heroes full of dark humor, quick wits and major attitudes and heroines who are
smart, tenacious, and always give as good as they get. She holds an MFA in
Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University and she loves animals,
chocolate, coffee, hot British actors, and sarcasm—not necessarily in that
order.
Website: http://www.tracidouglass.net
Twitter: https://twitter.com/Traci_Douglass
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/tracisdouglass/
Newsletter Sign-Up: http://tracidouglass.net/author-newsletter/
Fluid
Emmerite
Sundberg
Book Description:
Iyonne has despaired of ever
finding the right woman for her. But when she crash-lands on a seemingly
uninhabited planet, she finds her. Sissiasandra has been alone for so long, the
last of her kind. She believes that she will never again know love. Until
Iyonne walks onto her beach. The two fall in love instantly, but there is one
big hurdle to their happy ending. Iyonne cannot live in the ocean, and
Sissiasandra cannot leave the sea to walk on land. Will they overcome their
separation or are they doomed to live alone forever?
About
the Author:
Sundberg is the friend of dragons
and mother of chinchillas. She spends her time pairing people with good books.
She lives in Pennsylvania with her two bunnies and five chinchillas.
Twitter: @writerchilla
You
Only Love Once
Serena
Jayne
Book Description:
Carpe
diem the hell out of love.
In the year 2222, venturing
outdoors is dangerous. Exposure to the searing ultraviolet rays of the sun
could turn anyone into a crispy critter. The ocean is a toxic stew of chemicals
and home to a horror show of mutant monsters. When a three-eyed creature skulks
out of the sea to nibble on Leo, his beautiful neighbor comes to the rescue.
Since the tragic accident that
resulted in Ivy’s cybernetic limb, she’s embraced the mantra “you only live
once,” but her dangerous plans might be more a death wish than a desire to
carpe diem the hell out of life.
Can Leo convince Ivy that nothing
makes a person feel more alive than taking a chance on love?
About
the Author:
Serena Jayne loves experimenting
with different genres and mythologies. Anti-heroes and quirky characters are
her favorites to write. While her first love is paranormal fiction, the mundane
world provides plenty of plot bunnies. She studies Writing Popular Fiction at
Seton Hill University and is a member of Romance Writers of America.
Twitter: @SJ_Writer
Breakfast
on Pluto
Mary
Rogers
Book Description:
A chance encounter with a man she
could love causes Princess Kerrinda of Kerberos to make a choice – do what her
people expect and need, or follow her heart.
Prince Belloch may not be the one she chooses, but what happens if he
is?
Excerpt Breakfast on Pluto :
Bell was drawn from his thousandth
bored musing about the view, or why he had windows here at all at the end of
the known ‘Way. There was precious little to see but pitch
blackness and one or two stars that took squinting to even make out.
“Humans
like them, they feel closed in without them.” His father had always
maintained this was true and so he had windows, for whatever that view was
worth in the blackness surrounding the Hydra moon.
What
piqued his attention was a woman, a vision, coming down the stairs so quickly
as to almost be running. He watched as every few steps she cast her eyes behind
her, him worrying she would fall down the steps still in front of her.
Then there was her face. That, too, kept his attention.
“Beautiful.”
That was what she was. He had uttered the single word out loud,
despite it being a thought. He sometimes forgot; his every word was
heard, his every action witnessed.
“Pardon
me, did you say something, your...?” Nivens was always wondering what he
could do better. All his staff was. Undeniably a perk, but also a pain.
He cut him off.
“I
did.” He didn’t turn his head though, he kept his watch. To his
relief, she made it down without mishap. She frowned, and slowed her
step. Satisfied with that she saw or didn’t, he watched as she physically
changed. Her face, now peaceful, had a small smile. He would love
to know what that was about. She was hiding from something or someone,
but it didn’t look imminent. Life threatening. As she moved on
gracefully, he guessed she had concluded she was ‘safe’ for a time.
As
she got closer he noticed her eyes. She was scanning for something.
She settled her gaze on the doors to the hotel. Her mask of
serenity momentarily broken, storm clouds broke in those eyes, upset taking
over, then what he thought might be longing. She wanted, what? To go out? To
leave? She turned instead and followed the corridor to the far lobby.
“It seems we have a damsel in distress, Nivens.”
Should he come to her aid? Perhaps. Bell would judge that later.
“That woman there, the one with the long inky hair. Do we
know her?”
Nivens,
never comfortable taking his eyes off his charge, stepped in front of him.
After checking in all directions, he motioned for another guard.
Jeene’a, until now, was unobtrusively seated in the small bar area.
He rose, and quietly moved to them, replacing Nivens. When he did, Nivens
gave his attention to the woman in question. Bell sighed.
“We
do not.” Nivens moved back to him. “Would we like to?”
“Yes.
Very much, but it appears the lady has trouble.”
Nivens’
eyes rounded, and his hand went to his weapon; it was an automatic reflex.
Bell moved forward; staying his hand.
“Not
for me, Nivens. Her trouble is her own, and as I don’t know her, I don’t
have any idea what it is.”
“Would
you like us to find out?”
He
shouldn’t bother. Soon, nothing much would matter. He had one day left, what
harm could come of this?
“Yes.
But use discretion. Find out what you can about her. She’s
obviously staying here, find out where, if she is with others, and what is
known about her and them.”
“Your
wish.” Nivens bowed, spoke briefly to Jeene’a, and went to do his
master’s bidding.
Bell
shook his head almost imperceptibly. Getting what he wanted was easy.
Getting who he wanted? He didn’t have that option.
Maybe
one more… small “indiscretion” - as his father liked to call them - was in his
cards. Another privilege he would soon give up.
Bell
moved to the bar, sat down, and ordered a Fixthi’an. The publican bowed
to him and made his favorite morning pick-me-up. Sitting, drinking
slowly, he thought about the woman on the stairs. She was lovely. Despite the
interest she generated, he couldn’t very well have an indiscretion if he
was indiscreet. If she knew who he was. What he was.
“Jeene’a,
there is a matter I wish to speak to you all about. Gather everyone, will
you?”
One
hour later, it was done.
About
the Author:
Mary Rogers is a Brooklyn native
now living in Southern California with her husband, her kids, and too many
rescue animals. Completely addicted to romance - she decided to write it. She
is inspired by her swoon-worthy hubby, her children, her spoiled pets, and the
best friends in the universe. They teach her daily the meaning of love. She
also appreciates the wine.
Tristan’s
Tryst
A.E.
Hayes
Book Description:
One mysterious being. Two lovers
who find her. Can this threesome handle the heat of this scorching summer?
Tristan works for the American
government, but rarely speaks about his job. Why? Because his job involves
intergalactic travel. Despite the fact that the year is 2041 and human beings
are now capable to travel at faster-than-light speeds, Tristan’s projects are
often kept secret – hidden even from his girlfriend, Cassandra.
When Tristan reveals to Cassandra
that they are going to take a special trip to Delmar, a planet located in a
different solar system that is mostly comprised of beaches and oceans,
Cassandra is ecstatic. The planet was recently discovered by Tristan and his
team, and so far, very few people have used it as a vacation spot.
Cassandra and Tristan pack their
bags and safely travel to Delmar, finding themselves surrounded by beautiful
beaches with white sand, sparkling turquoise waters, and a strange line of
trees lining the perimeter of the particular beach they have chosen to visit.
During some intense foreplay on
the deserted beach, Cassandra and Tristan are startled to hear movement coming
from the trees behind them. When they stop to look, they see a beautiful female
emerge. She tells them that her name is Lynx, and that she is an inhabitant of
the planet. Tristan is baffled, as he was unaware that the planet allowed for
immigration and human habitation. And when Lynx expresses her fondness for
Tristan’s body and Cassandra’s golden “star eyes,” Tristan and Cassandra find
themselves attracted to her. But should they give in to this strange, beautiful
inhabitant of Delmar? And if they do – what might possibly happen to them?
About
the Author:
A.E. Hayes is a published author
who has been writing since the age of four. She has been featured under various
pseudonyms in myriad novels, anthologies, poetry collections, music magazines,
and newspapers. Her memoir, “Shattered: Memoirs of an Amnesiac,” is set to be
released on September 12th, 2017.
She is currently finishing her
6th fiction novel, “On Common Ground,” writing for the upcoming sci-fi romance
anthology “Love Across the Universe,” (which will be released August 1st,
2017), as well as writing a paranormal sci-fi story for the upcoming graphic
novel “The Eynes Anthology.”
She studied English and Writing
at Hood College, where she earned her B.A., and later studied Fiction Writing
at The Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore. A.E. resides in Maryland with her
husband and son, and when she isn’t writing or singing (or doing both at the
same time), she spends her time drinking far too much coffee, logging miles by
pacing around the living room floor in order to make her Fitbit happy, studying
the violin, pretending to be a Cylon, and plotting ideas for several new
projects (which usually happens during her living room pacing time).
Web: https://aehayes.com/
Twitter: @AE_Hayes
Breathless
L.
J. Longo
Book
Description:
A soldier and a café manager find
themselves trapped beneath the surface of a resort by the deadly beasts native
to the planet. As they fight to survive, they discover danger is a potent
aphrodisiac.
As part of a hidden military
outfit protecting rich civilians as they vacation on the resort planet Pangaea,
Nathan Oyola planned to keep secrets, fight aliens, and maybe tan under the
rays of an artificial sun. What he did
not expect was to fall for his so-called boss, the manager of the café located
directly above the aliens’ nest. When the native wildlife starts behaving more
aggressive and strange than usual, how will Nathan keep them secret and keep
his new-found love safe.
All
B+ut You
Elsa
M. Carruthers
Genre: Science Fiction Romance
Publisher: Stars and Stone Books
Date of Publication: 1 August
2017
ISBN-10: 0-9977081-8-2
ISBN-13: 978-0-9977081-8-9
ASIN: B071JSHCGC
Book Description:
In a world where looks are so important
that Genetic Modification is standard procedure, how will those without Genetic
Modification cope, let alone find love?
Excerpt All B+ut You :
Jen was a medical researcher
until her status as a B+ blood type made her ineligible for genetic
modification and indirectly cost her a lucrative position. Soon, like all of
the other un-modifieds, she finds herself living and working in B-Town. She
passes her time trading books with her neighbors until they start coming for
minor medical advice and help. It’s not a glamorous life, but she is content
until she runs into Marsha, mysterious Gen-Mod who appears to be on the
run.
About
the Author:
Elsa is a speculative fiction
writer, academic, and poet. She lives in California with her family. In 2011,
she earned her MFA in Creative Writing and English from Seton Hill University.
Since graduating, Elsa's work has been published in several anthologies,
magazines, and e-zines.
Elsa is an active member of HWA,
RWA, SFPA, IAFA, and the Poetry Foundation. She regularly attends writing
conventions and loves meeting new people!
The
Pirates and the Pacifist
Cara
McKinnon
Book Description:
Kai doesn’t believe in violence.
Sam and Dek believe the ends justify the means. Will passion be enough to
bridge the gap between the pacifist sent to broker galactic peace and the space
pirates hired to keep him away at all costs?
Kaikoa met Sameer and Dek—leaders
of a crew of sometimes space pirates—when they abducted Kai and kept him from
attending an important peace summit. But when the pirates’ payment never
appeared and a gunship showed up instead, Kai, Sam, and Dek found themselves on
the same side of a galactic conflict–and tumbling headlong into a reckless
passion.
Now they are searching for the
truth about who hired the pirates to keep Kai from the summit—and whether the
enemy wants one side to win, or simply chaos in the galaxy. But when the allies
find the ones who double-crossed them on a terraformed resort moon, will Dek
and Sam follow their new lover’s pacifist wishes, or will the pirate code of an
eye for an eye tear their fragile threesome apart?
Excerpt The Pirates and the Pacifist :
Kaikoa pressed
his toes into the metal floor of the small cabin where he’d been kept captive
for the last two ship-cycles. He only knew the length of his imprisonment
because his jailors left the wall screen on. They wanted him to be able to keep
track of time passing—his voiceprint wasn’t authorized to change the
programming or turn it off. Thanks to the screen, he knew that in one more
cycle he would miss the meeting that had brought him from his quiet backwater
planet of Moanalani—haven for his people after the rising sea levels on old
Earth swamped their islands—to the central planets of the Trrbantu Cluster.
He hadn’t seen
his sibling Nai’a since before the pirates had boarded their small transport
ship and removed them to this larger vessel. Nai’a had been up in the cockpit,
doing whatever they did to pilot the ship, while he’d been down in the galley
making a meal.
Nai’a had
probably fought for their ship like one of the ancient demons of the depths.
Kai had been knocked unconscious by some kind of stunner almost immediately.
Not that he was ashamed by his failure to defend the ship. He’d been called to
speak at a peace conference, after all, not a battle strategy session.
The wall screen
helpfully displayed the latest news about the conference, which had predictably
devolved into posturing, name-calling, and chest-beating, at least on the part
of the media anchors. Kai had hopes that the actual delegates—who’d been
forbidden from giving interviews to the press until afterward—were keeping
their composure better.
He should have
been there already, and his absence would put several important pieces of the
treaty his faction had proposed in jeopardy. He and Nai’a had hoped that by
taking their small, independent transport, they would avoid exactly the
situation they’d landed in.
The door of the
cabin opened, and three large humanoids entered. Two were actually human—a male
and female—and the third was a splice.
If anyone should
have wanted Kai to make it to the peace conference, it should have been a
splice. If things fell apart, all of the mixed human-and-alien beings would be
at risk.
But this one
might not know that. Someone else did—someone who didn’t want Kai to succeed,
and had hired these pirates to keep him away from the summit. The question
was—was it a member of the league who wanted the insurgents eradicated, or a
member of the human faction who actually thought they could win?
About
the Author:
Cara McKinnon is the author of
the Fay of Skye fantasy romance series. She is addicted to adding magic to
other genres and creating fantasy hybrids. She earned her MFA in Writing
Popular Fiction at Seton Hill University, where she found her writing tribe.
She lives on the East Coast of the US with her husband, two kids, and an oversized
lapdog named Jake.
Website: http://caramckinnon.com
Facebook: http://facebook.com/caramckinnonauthor
Twitter: http://twitter.com/cara_mckinnon
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bY89o1
The
Princess of Sands
M.T.
DeSantis
Book Description:
The solar panel that powers the
Sand Palace Hotel on planet Andala is failing. The hotel’s tyrannical owner
will go to any length to secure a new panel, including arranging a marriage for
his only daughter, Eliara Desanthar. Unable to reconcile marrying to benefit
her father, Eliara sneaks aboard a ship in the castle’s landing bay, ready to
make her escape.
But this ship is no ordinary
vessel. It carries Prince Randroth of Belmret, who is on a diplomatic mission
to Andala. When Eliara accidentally tries to hide in the prince’s chambers,
Randroth vows to protect the terrified but beautiful girl, even if it means
destroying relations between the two planets.
Unaware Randroth is her
betrothed, Eliara returns with him to Belmret, where fun-in-the-sun, deep passion,
and trapping revelations await.
And the truth might not set them
free.
Excerpt The Princess of Sands :
The door of
Randroth’s chamber slid open with a nearly silent hiss. “About time,” Idgmet
said in his nasal voice and shuffled inside. He wore a one-piece bright
lavender jumpsuit, complete with silver trim. Belmret fashion had done some odd
things over the years, but this was the strangest. Idgmet fixed Randroth with a
quizzical stare. “I hope you are not wearing that to meet your bride-to-be?”
Randroth tugged
on the simple black trousers and adjusted the blue tunic he wore, a match for
Andala’s oceans. He’d chosen the outfit purposefully to appeal to
Desanthar—blue for Andala’s oceans, black because it would let the blue stand
out. He would only get one chance to make a good impression. This was not the
time for Idgmet’s idea of style.
“In fact, I am,”
Randroth said.
Idgmet made a
noise in the back of his throat, either distaste or disdain. A line appeared
between his perfectly trimmed silver-painted eyebrows for only a second before
the squire schooled his features. “Very well. I didn’t come to discuss your
clothing, much as the topic needs addressing. Your father wishes me to remind
you how crucial the securing of this union is.”
“Does he?”
Randroth couldn’t keep the derision from his voice. This marriage had come
suddenly and without warning or reason, at least none Randroth could detect.
Belmret was not poor and, thus, in no need of a financial alliance with the
riches of Desanthar’s tourism business. For all his money, Desanthar was not
royalty, and so the wedding was not for political gain. In short, there was
absolutely no reason why Randroth had to wed now, and to a girl he’d never met.
“And did my father happen to explain to you why it is so important? He left out
those details when discussing it with the son who is to be wed.”
“You know how
much Belmret’s safety and future mean to your father.” Idgmet delivered his
rote response in a flat tone. The underlying meaning was clearer than Belmret’s
lavender oceans. There was still no reason for the union, or at least no reason
Randroth’s father would disclose.
“I do.” Randroth
folded his arms. The shirt pulled a bit at his shoulders. He’d filled out some
since last wearing it. “But safety with not even an implied threat is not a
reason to force marriage upon your child.”
“All due
respect, Your Highness.” Idgmet held up the pointer finger of his left hand.
His silver nail polish exactly matched the trim of his suit and his eyebrows.
“I do not have time to argue about this. We must disembark.”
Randroth blew
out a breath. There was no winning. He would leave the ship, meet Desanthar’s
daughter, and wed in three days. “Very well.”
Idgmet spun on
one heel. When he reached the door, it opened. He shuffled through, leaving
Randroth to sulk in a most unprincely manner. All his life, Randroth thought
he’d marry for love, like the princes and knights in the book of fairy tales he
kept beside his bed. Whenever royal life got to be too much, he had read one of
the old tales as a reminder of how his life could be. He should have known
reality could never resemble fanciful stories in books, especially in matters
of love. It wasn’t fair.
But then, what
in his life was fair? He was a prince. Royalty did what needed to be done.
Randroth straightened, squaring his shoulders and closing his eyes to collect
himself. He drew in a deep breath and let it go slowly. If he must wed
Lemswurth Desanthar’s daughter for some undisclosed reason, he would do it,
sands be his witness.
The chamber door
hissed open.
Randroth
expelled the last of his breath in a huff. And if he had to put up with
Idgmet’s impatience, he would do his best not to strangle the squire. “I said I
would be right there.” He opened his eyes.
Idgmet wasn’t in
the doorway. It was a girl. Her blonde hair fell in a mess of waves to her
waist, and a faint pink colored her cheeks.
A tugging
sensation pulled at Randroth’s heart. She looked like someone in trouble. He
stood. “Are you all right?”
The girl jerked.
Her head snapped up and around. She blinked wide green eyes at him, and the
pink in her cheeks drained to a terrified white. She lurched backwards.
“Wait!” Randroth
rushed to the door and captured her delicate wrist between his fingers. She
trembled under his touch. Or had she already been trembling? “How did you get
on this ship?”
The girl opened
and closed her mouth. “I…” She swallowed with an audible gulp. “I need to get
off the planet. My father…can you help me?”
The tug now
tried to yank Randroth’s heart in two. One end pummeled him with duty and
responsibility. He was supposed to stay on Andala and meet Desanthar’s
daughter. In the other direction, there was still no reason for the marriage.
The truth crumbled Randroth’s sense of duty. Forget trouble, this girl had the
look of a caged animal. She ran, maybe for her life. He couldn’t leave her to
fend for herself.
“Of course I
can,” Randroth said.
Relief fell over
the girl’s face like a curtain. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
A chill ran
through Randroth at the gratitude in her voice. An iron determination followed.
Whoever this girl’s father was, Randroth would do anything in his power to
protect her. He pulled her into the room until the door slid closed. “What is
your name?”
“Eliara,” the
girl said.
“A lovely name,”
Randroth said. It fit her well. He bowed his head. “I am Prince Randroth of
Belmret, at your humble service.”
Eliara’s emerald
eyes widened. “Prince?” She lurched into a bow. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I—”
“It is nothing.”
He tipped her chin up with one finger. A current like electricity seemed to
spark where his skin met hers. The current spiraled into a desire to pull her
closer, feel her delicate body against his. “Please,” his voice rasped with the
desire coursing through his blood, “call me Randroth.”
About
the Author:
M.T. DeSantis currently resides
in a small city on the U.S. eastern seaboard. When not writing, she can be
found practicing yoga, attempting to answer trivia questions at restaurants, or
plotting her next adventure.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/desantismt
Renewal
Oriana
Maret
Book Description:
She’ll brave the arms of
destruction to shed the arms that betrayed.
When Kestrel discovers Mercer is
alive and well, she embarks on a dangerous journey to escape the pain of his
jilt. When Mercer turns the tables, Kestrel discovers the true meaning of
betrayal, and the ultimate cost of love.
Excerpt Renewal:
The antique film
credits roll, and Kestrel strips the ocular screen from her brow. She stuffs
the device into the bin at her knees and taps the evac release. Never violate
your own rules. No romance means no romance because it’s rot. The silver
screen disappears with a whoosh deeper into the guts of Galaxy Delivers, Inc.
The next time she volunteers as previewer for Galaxy’s annual ancient films
revel she’ll select a sci-fi meat grinder like The Whirling Vortex. Her
vision blurs with tears. Not some thrashing B-list not
happily-ever-after space-love pile of…
“Rot,” she
whispers.
The film won’t
get a thumb’s up from her. The leading lady dies of Veneda Syndrome. The star
expires moments before medical staff can wrap molecular stabilizers around her
body that’s eaten up by rogue cell necrosis. Nothing romantic about that. Even
less inspiring is her lover’s desertion.
The room seems
to shrink. Kestrel’s cubicle is wedged into a precise row of ten cubicles in a
room of ten rows by ten. It’s in the ground floor of the Galaxy Delivers, Inc.
spire that juts one hundred stories into planet Jaster’s ocher skies. The
spire’s weight pins Kestrel to her roller chair. She sips antiseptic air in
shallow breaths.
Unlike her
co-operators’ empty gray desktops, hers is littered with antique novelties.
All gifts from him.
Mercer.
A calendar of
curling paper the color of jaundiced skin leans against the back partition. It
was his first gift. “To celebrate our first month together,” he’d said.
Kestrel runs a
finger over the tarnished silver spoon he gave her at the close of month two.
“For the lady who appreciates history.”
She lifts the
ocean blue candle and inhales its sweet scent. “To match your eyes.” He’d
kissed her, and that night she’d lost herself in Mercer Eridanus’s orbit. Even
now her lips tingle.
With trembling
fingers, she strokes the wire rim glasses that rest like a paperweight on top
of the spacer license Mercer helped her earn. He’d called her a white-knuckle
flier.
“My knuckles
aren’t white.”
“No,” he’d said.
“Mine are.”
The license
isn’t worth sand these days because of Tabara Gold’s desquamation. A sister
planet that sheds chunks of its surface the size of mountains tends to
discourage transportation and trade.
Kestrel uncurls
her left hand.
She hasn’t worn it
in a year—the swirling platinum strands of precious metal that clasp a
brilliant cut diamond as its prize. Her gaze strays to the paper calendar’s
single digit number. Mercer proposed marriage one year ago today.
And disappeared.
She’s memorized
his note: Dear Kes—it could never work. I’m jumping a hyper-shot freighter
out of Tabara Gold. The universe calls, babe. I’m sorry.
A good thing she
doesn’t have Veneda Syndrome.
His note is
twenty-two words. Where in twenty-two words is the essence of a man who combs
antique slums on two planets to locate an artifact to celebrate each month of
romance? He isn’t a man who ditches responsibilities and hyper-shots away. But
he did leave.
And now he’s
back.
The gossip
grills who document Adalon City’s social scene breathlessly welcomed him home.
Apparently, Mercer’s shadow is enough to send females aged two to
one-hundred-seventeen into vapes. Men want Mercer for cards, bar jaunts,
investment advice, jet races…
Three days have
passed since she’s learned he breathes Adalon’s air. Three days.
The answer is
that he regretted his proposal because she never fit Adalon’s scene—that
whirling show of parties, fizzy drinks, and false laughter. When did he ever, ever
take her about? His silence proves she should move on with her life. He is.
She stuffs the
ring into a pocket.
Love absorbs and
expands beyond its capacity, but when it dries up it’s stiff and useless. If
not for the sister planet’s annoying skin peel, she’d blast through Adalon
City’s ochre skies, break clean of Jaster’s gravitational pull, and run and run
and never stop.
Instead, she’s here.
Operators’
voices hum as color-coded deliveries pour in at a rate of two every
fifteen-point-three seconds. The operators sort the bids and roll them up onto
the giant boards that march around the room. Competitor operators in fifteen
buildings around Adalon City vie for the bids. In a city of millions, there’s
money in messages and packages. Galaxy delivers.
Kes taps her
temple, and her implant flickers behind her eyes. Pain streaks up her shin.
“Ouch!”
Bending double,
she spies a pair of boots the size of freighters on a guy in the row opposite.
She kicks. Never met him, so who cares?
“Hey!” The gray
partition muffles his voice. “Watch it.”
“You watch it,”
she snaps. “Keep your space boats to yourself.”
“Thrashing-A,
Kes.” The voice of the operator next to her climbs an octave. “You got a
thrashing blue to bid!”
Heads pop up. Blue…ah,
blue…sighs off every tongue.
Kestrel launches
to her feet. A job coded red is bound for Jaster’s far side; pink is for local
delivery. Blue—beautiful, brilliant, and rare blue—is OWDR: off-world delivery
required, baby. While she’s been gathering linen—or is the saying
wool?—the blue flitted through her queue.
Blip! It disappears.
The blue’s been
snagged by number 100: the top of the spire; Theodosia Galaxy, CEO of Galaxy
Delivers, Inc.
Adalon’s
delivery industry is no place for swimmers afraid of sharks. The gossip grills
report Ms. Galaxy’s balls live in one tower, her body in another. Until Tabara
Gold’s demasquation ends, the sister planet puts a choke-hold on Jaster’s
economy. No doubt Ms. Galaxy will cut the other companies’ jugulars to win the
off-world job and a fat commission.
Kestrel snatches
her spacer license. The universe propels her down the perfect rows and fifty
steps to the lift. She slides in, taps the round button marked 100, and the
reflective gold doors glide shut. She’s a big-eyed, tight-jawed slash of pale
skin in loose clothing drenched in shadows.
There’s only one
way to clear the dust of this past year’s desert experience. Theodosia Galaxy
will win the bid to deliver the package, and Kestrel will fly the
mother-thrashing thing down the throat of a whirling vortex if it means putting
space, and lots of it, between her and Mercer.
About
the Author:
Oriana Maret is a science fiction
writer whose careers include the military, corporate sales and management in
cancer genetic diagnostics, and nonprofit brand management. She'll earn an
M.F.A. in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University in 2018.
