Wednesday musings on writing
It occurred to me earlier today that I’ve been working professionally in the writing dodge (and by professionally I mean people have given me money in exchange for my words) for about twenty-two years, now. My writing career can legally drink, if not rent a car. Which is probably for the best, if you think about it.
So while I may bitch and moan about sales at times, in retrospect I’m actually pretty happy with where I’ve gotten to at this point. Between my SF and romance names (by the way, you all DO know that I write science fiction and urban fantasy as Melanie Fletcher, right?) I have seven full-length novels, three novellas, two novelettes, and twenty-six short stories to my credit. That’s not bad at all, especially since I’ll be bringing out at least another three novels this year as well as more novellas and short stories.
And not only have I been publishing, but I’ve been gifted with a fiercely devoted band of readers (you know who you are, and you are all in the will), plus I’ve been getting critical attention for my work. Night Owl Reviews just did an interview with me, and the lovely and talented Cynthia Sax will also have an interview on Degree of Resistance up on her website soon. So, yeah, I’ve actually done pretty well in my career so far (take that, Imposter Syndrome!).
Fabulous, I hear you say, but why are you babbling at us about this? Well, 1) because I can, and 2) it helps to work out what I’m going to do next. This year I’ve decided to concentrate on leveling up to the next professional step; namely, increasing my readership, shooting for a USA Today bestseller list slot, and maybe even winning an award or two (although I’m reminded of the fact that Sir Terry Pratchett, he of the insanely successful and brilliant Discworld series, never won anything until late in his career. People rarely take humor with the seriousness it deserves. But I digress). And the best way to do all that is to keep writing, keep publishing, and keep entertaining folks, which, yeah, just twist my arm already.
Did I mention that you’re all cruel but beautiful, and I love you oodles for reading my stuff? Because I do.
Wicked Wednesday Reads: Forfeit
Oh, look — it’s Wednesday, which means you need a little something extra to help you over Hump Day. Never fear, for today I’m here with Lydia Michaels and Allyson Young’s smouldering new mĂŠnage romance Forfeit (Degrees of Separation 1), now available from purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, ladies!
December and Austin have a traditional, storybook marriage complete with defined roles. Married young, theyâve shared nearly a decade of passion and love. Decemberâs submissive nature is perfectly suited for her husbandâs authoritative, yet adoring response and he seamlessly holds the indisputable role as head of the household.
But Austin harbors secrets, and the pressure of losing his job makes those festering skeletons impossible to ignore. Turning to alcohol instead of his wife, Austin finally drives December away and into the arms of their closest friend, Cord, despite her intense loyalty.
Cord has loved December since the day they met. His moral compass is challenged and lines are blurred when Austin steps aside and insists Cord take his place.
Forfeiting all, Austin must face a harsh truth. Take control of his life, or forever lose the woman he loves.
Story Excerpt
It was like he no longer saw her, just looked right through her, when she used to be all he could see in the whole world. No matter what she did, he stayed awayâaloneâwandering through the house at night and sleeping all day. She had pride too, and heâd been chipping away at it, scarring her with deep tattoos of doubt.
Something happened to a woman when her husband no longer touched her. First there were the superficial frustrations of unrequited desire, but then it became something worse. The insecurity, fear, and uncertainty ate away at her insides.
Her self-esteem fractured, perhaps beyond repair. Tiny little shards of self-worth were all she had left. Even if he came to her now, begging and full of apologies, she feared someone might get cut.
This rut seemed to get deeper and darker every day. She was losing sight of the light and worried sheâd never see herself out. She needed to feel alive, feel something. She needed to reclaim control and pull herself back to her feet, which was why this job with Cord was imperative.
Where to Buy
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks
About the Authors
Lydia Michaels
Lydia Michaels is the award winning author of 30 romance novels. Her novels from the darkly compelling Surrender Trilogy were iBooks Bestsellers and her work has been featured in USA Today. In 2015 she was the winner of The Best of Bucks Award and she has been nominated as Best Author in the Happenings Magazine two years running [2015 & 2016]. She is a four time nominee for the prestigious RONE Award. Her books are intellectual, emotional, haunting, always centered around love.
Allyson Young
Allyson lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her husband of many years and numerous pets. She has written for many years and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. A best selling Amazon author, she has now published three series and several stand alones in contemporary, sci fi, fantasy and suspense genres, as well as several novels under a different pen name. Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserves. Love isnât always sweet, and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.
Marvelous Monday Reads: A Mate For the Sheriff
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, angels! Today I’m featuring April Zyon and her hot new shifter romance A Mate For the Sheriff (Shifters Match.com 4). Take it away, April!
Jessica Morris has a secret that could get her killed. Hiding in plain sight, pretending to be normal, is all sheâs ever known. And even though sheâs been lucky so far, she knows that she canât hide in Shifter Falls forever. Getting involved with the town sheriff is the last thing she needs, but lately itâs all she can think about.
Novak Porter has watched Jessica since the first day she came into town. He suspects that, like everyone else in Shifter Falls, sheâs got a skeleton or two in her closet. Sheâs nervous around him, and for years heâs forced himself to give her time. But when a chance encounter throws them together for more than five minutes, Novak decides heâs tired of waiting. Heâll do whatever it takes to keep her around. Convincing her to work for him is easy, but getting her to believe in happily ever after might be a little more difficult.
Story Excerpt
Jessica turned to the voice in the darkness. The sexiest voice on the face of the planet. âSheriff,â she said, her pulse increasing when she turned to look at him.
He looked as if he had been built of stone, and again she wondered just exactly what sort of shifter he was. No one seemed to know, or be willing to share, which was very strange in a town like Shifter Falls. Then again, she didnât let anyone know what she was, either, so it could just be a privacy thing.
âIâm not sure whatâs going on, but suddenly all the electronics inside the car went completely dead. The lights, dash, everything. Iâm afraid itâs the alternator, since it has a brand-new battery.â She might be a lot of things, but she wasnât completely stupid. âAnd I think that Jaggerâs cub swiped my cell phone, again, so do you think you could maybe call a tow for me?â She shook her head. âThat little guy gets me every single time. I swear heâs taken more cell phones off of me than I can count. Phi is never able to find them, so thereâs no telling what he does with them.â She was snickering as she said that. She didnât know why she was talking so much, but she was.
The sheriff was watching her intently and didnât seem all that bothered by her random rambling. He merely pulled out his cell and put in a call for a truck. âMick will come get your car. He said to leave the keys on the passenger front tire since he might be a while. They had to pull a couple cars from a slough after some young twits decided that drag racing with their parentsâ cars was a good plan. Come on, Iâll give you a ride home.â
She whistled. âOh boy. I bet there are going to be some kids in serious trouble about right now. Thanks for the offer of the ride.â She grabbed her purse, locked the car, and put the keys on the front passenger tire as she had been instructed. âYouâll probably be going out of your way a bit. I live at twenty-nine Forest Acre Road.â It was a dirt road surrounded by forest and she loved it. Nature called to her, and at least there she didnât have to worry about nulling any abilities as she typically did when she was near other witches.
âNo worries at all. It keeps me out of the station until the parents have finally wound down to a dull roar and the kids have had a few minutes for everything to sink in. Anyhow, I think that an hourâs worth of stewing before I arrive to come up with some interesting charges might help the situation. By then Iâll know if the lawyers have actually been called in or not and can figure out how to play this to keep the kids from doing something worse down the line.â The sheriff held her door for her, then shut it when she settled into her seat. A minute later he was setting out reflective markers behind her car before sliding in behind the wheel to take her toward town and home.
âYou are a good man. Too bad you canât keep a secretary to save your gorgeous ass.â She felt her face turn red from heat when she realized sheâd blurted that out. âCrap, ignore me. I donât know what Iâm saying.â She cringed, but then shrugged. Since it was too late to take her candid observation back, she pressed on. âWell, from what I understand, you have gone through thirteen of them inside of three months. Thatâs outstanding right there.â
He leveled a look on her she couldnât read. She was only thankful he seemed to ignore her initial comment and it allowed her cheeks to cool. âI have a specific way I expect things to be done. And, I admit, my temper can get the best of me. Everything we do can be called into question inside a courtroom. If even one I isnât dotted right, or a T was missed being crossed, that is potentially a dangerous offender being allowed out on the street due to clerical error. Unacceptable in my book so, yes, I have some impossibly high standards I expect to be carried out by every man and woman in the department.â
âNo, not impossibly high standards. They are perfectly reasonable. The way that everyone made it sound you were seriously a neat freak nut job, but what youâre saying doesnât sound like that at all.â She understood the importance of perfect record keeping, of ensuring that everything was where it should be at all times. âWhen the council took me on as their secretary, I had to redo a hell of a lot of stuff because the person before me couldnât seem to understand that paperwork is filed by number then letter. Idiots.â She smirked and looked over at him. âI guess I have high standards as well. Then again since Iâm a witch without abilities, I have to be able to contribute somehow, right? Especially with my motherâs coven proclaiming me to be nothing but a human.â Thatâs what all of Shifter Falls thought of her, and she was happy to keep it that way. When sheâd first started out on her own, sheâd wondered if it wouldnât have been smarter, and safer, to try to hide even the fact that sheâd been born into a witch family. Ultimately sheâd decided that it was better to stick as close to the truth as possible. So she never tried to hide the fact that she had been born to witch parents. It was unlikely that she would ever run into anyone from her old coven, but on the off chance that she did, she didnât want to arouse suspicion by being caught in a lie. Besides, being known as a witch without powersâtherefore, more or less, humanâkept her just as safe as if sheâd tried to pass herself off as a normal human.
âIâm glad you understand. Few do,â he muttered. âI think the council foisted their rejects my way for some form of payback. They all loved the idea when the mayor had me run for office and I won by a landslide, but the minute I arrested the first council member and wouldnât take a bribe, they started to wonder. Told them the same thing I told the mayor when he hired meâI was going to run things my way, and if they found someone that could run against me and get elected that would be the only way theyâd get me out of that seat. They havenât had any luck yet.â
Jess knew it was because the sheriff was respected by every citizen in the Falls as well as the other two cities that made up their exceptionally small county. While not everyone agreed with his methods and strict by-the-book ways, they liked how heâd cleaned up and kept the area protected from a drug problem several years back when heâd first taken the position.
âYou cleaned up the area. No one would run against you. Youâre too good at your job, so it is what it is.â She shrugged. âYou are strict and you can be an ass from what Iâve been told, but then again there are a lot of falsehoods that fly through Shifter Falls, arenât there?â she asked with a smile.
âTrue enough. The trick is determining whatâs truth and whatâs lie in everything that goes around town. Itâs amazing what one can discover the moment they find that tiny thread and give it a tug. After all, thereâs not a soul in this town that is exactly who they appear to be on the surface once you dig down a little further.â
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Barnes & Noble
Bookstrand | Smashwords |Â iTunes
About April Zyon
Having been a lover of the written word all her life April has always wanted to expand her horizons and write something that could be shared with the world. Only one thing held April back, the fact that the letters and numbers mixed and jumbled more often than not. Diagnosed with Dyslexia when she was eight years old April had to work her butt off just to be able to keep up with the other kids in reading and writing, so her love for fictional writing was tossed to the wayside for the moment.
Time marched on, as it always does, and she forgot her childhood dream of becoming an author and instead focused on what she had to â creating a career for herself. As the endless waves of time passed the shores became less rocky and more sandy, a place where she could find an even foot. That and Microsoft invented Word. Hallelujah. This is where April began her journey into the written world, the world that her imagination had been ceaselessly creating for her entire adult life.
Now she has been given a chance to let her literary wings unfold and fly, thanks to the amazing publishers with Evernight Publishing and Secret Cravings Publishing. Now its time to let the dream take flight and watch it soar!
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Nicola’s Sunday Shoutout: Kacey Hammell
Today’s Sunday Shoutout goes to Kacey Hammell and her smouldering new book Guarding His Anchor (Canadian Muscle 2), is now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine erotic romance. Take it away, Kacey!
Thank you so much for sharing my latest release, Guarding His Anchor, with your readers! Frank and Charlie havenât had an easy road, but their journey is romantic and adventurous.
Happy Reading.
Kacey
Canadian Muscle âŚ
When Desires Need Protecting.
Charlotte Weber is no stranger to heartbreak. FBI agent Frank Shaw has swept in and out of her life as though sheâs a revolving door, stomping on her heart in the process. Now that sheâs finally had enough, heâs back again and seems determined to spin her life out of control.
Frank knows Charlie is the anchor for his lost soul, even though he canât risk settling down. The demons of his past are too great, and he wonât run the risk of hurting her. This time, his only objective should be locating Charlieâs brother, Sean. But Charlieâs a complication, and not just because she refuses to believe Sean is guilty.
As Frank and Charlie fight for what they believe in, they also try to resist their powerful connection. The future is unclear, but when danger surrounds them, they are each otherâs only anchor.
Story Excerpt
Frank watched Charlie intently.
Charlie.
That name was for a young girl, not for a woman like her.
To him, she was all Charlotte. Confident, virile, elegant, intoxicating. A vixen who turned a man on with one sultry glance and then brought him to his knees with one heady taste of her. He hated calling her by such the tomboy-ish name everyone else called her.
Others didnât see what he did. Which was a good thing, too; he didnât want her sharing that part of herself with anyone else. Especially not with this Numbnuts Neal that Jonas had told him about last night. Another guy was sniffing around his lady, and he didnât like it. Not one fucking little sliver.
âSo.â Charlotte interrupted his thoughts. Heâd deal with Numbnuts later. âTell meââshe shoved the file asideââin your own words, everything my brother has allegedly done. And sugarcoat nothing on my behalf. Iâll read the report later.â
There was the woman he cared for. The brook-no-argument heat in her eyes. Her deep, sea-blue gaze sliced deep and offered no mercy.
âYour brother actually went undercover five years ago. You knew he was changing jobs and would be out of the country for a long time. You told me that yourself, remember?â Charlotte nodded but said nothing. âThrough my contacts and the agent in charge of the case, itâs been almost eighteen months since his handlerâs spoken to him.â
Her eyes widened and she shifted, but remained silent.
âI tracked him down in the most desolate area of Tel Aviv and to a branch in a drug cartel heâd started investigating years ago. The minute details are in the file, but to make a long story short, I got too close. Breached a compound to look for evidence of your brother being there and anything else I could use in the case.â He ran a hand down his face, the skin itchy from not having shaved in days. âOnly sparse personnel were to be on the grounds, less eyes watching, but the Intel I got had been wrong. Before I knew what was happening, I was getting shot at from every direction.â
âSo Sean might not be the one who shot you.â Her eyes were eager, hopeful. Of course sheâd latch on to the fact multiple bullets were aimed at him.
He shook his head, wishing he could answer her pleas. âI managed through the worst of it and found my way to an empty garage where I ran into your brother. And before you ask, yes, I am certain it was him. He appeared confused at first, then said, âCharlieâs Frank?â So he knew who I was. Then voices and more gunfire rang out and coming toward us. Before I could react to anything, he suddenly raised his gun and shot me.â Frank rubbed his wound, still surprised heâd survived. The doctors had said a couple inches left or right, depending on travel of the bullet and bone fragment concerns, and surgery wouldnât have been an option either.
âHowâd you get out of there?â He hoped the concern in her eyes was true and for him, not just her brother.
âOne of the other agents with me pulled up in a jeep. I ran out as fast as possible, and he hauled our asses out of there.â
Charlotte scoffed. âOkay Rambo-slash-John McClane, you still watch too many action films. Unless I hear it from Sean, I wonât believe heâd shoot you for no reason.â
Sheâd always been pigheaded, but Frank couldnât believe sheâd question it. âWhat reason would I have to lie to you? Hell, Charloâie, I latched on to the case to prove his innocence.â
âWhy? Why did you want to get involved? You left Vikki and high-tailed it on the first plane out with barely any notice. You didnât tell me much before you left. And you were on your way to partnering up with Gavin and Marc with the security stuff. But you dropped everything and left. Why was Seanâs case that important to you?â
âFor you!â he bellowed, confused why she didnât see that. âHe is your brother, Gavinâs best friend, and Iâd have access to the whole case to help him.â
âDonât pretend that you were doing me any favors. I never asked you to get involved, Frank.â
âWell, of course not,â he growled low. âYouâd never have found out any of it if I had my way. I was hoping to get Sean out of trouble and bring him home to you. But you overheard Gavin and I talking before I left. And as far as leaving Vikki, she and I discussed it. She needed space and was only too eager to see me go. She didnât need my hovering at that point and wanted to stand on her own, or try to. Gavin watched over her for me.â He smiled. âYou all did, and I appreciate it very much.â
âWeâve become great friends.â He loved the way Charlotteâs eyes softened as she talked about his cousin. âIt is an honest friendship. And it has nothing to do with you.â
Months had turned her hard, distant. He only had himself to blame. They hadnât left things on a positive note, but heâd hoped sheâd understand one day.
Hell, heâd foolishly hoped that she would come to appreciate having him on Seanâs case rather than a stranger. Their personal relationship aside, he assumed sheâd trust the agent he was, and how long and hard heâd continued searching for Vikki. What other proof did she need to trust him?
How wrong heâd been.
âI donât want to think about Sean doing this.â The worry on her face tore at his heart. âWas he undercover too long? Is that a reason people believe heâs capable of such violence?â
âThere are many cops and agents that have gone so far undercover they get caught up in the lifestyle and itâs impossible to find their way back.â Sadness crept across her face. âSorry, Charlie, thatâs as honest as it gets.â
âNone of this makes sense.â She stood and piled paperwork on the file cabinet. âIt goes against who Sean is, and not who Norris raised. I canât wrap my head around it. My brother isnât a monster.â
Her voice broke, breaking his heart in the process. Frank stood and crossed the room, then rested his hands on her shoulders. âIâm sorry, hon. I know youâre scared, and Iâm sorry you have to go through this.â
Charlotte turned, surprising him, and burrowed her face in his chest. Sobs tore from her, shaking her strong yet delicate frame. He wrapped her in his arms, resting his cheek on her head, and let her cry.
It had been so longâtoo longâsince heâd inhaled her sweet scent of fruity shampoo and the coconut butter body wash she used every day. Heâd barely made it through any meal that served any of the combinations, the memories of her too fervent to let him eat in peace. Soft, warm, and the tranquility that came to him whenever he held her close were all potently his Charlotte.
Home. Being this close to her again was like coming home. But he wasnât a man looking for one place to settle down. And it puzzled him why he returned time and time again.
You know exactly why. You have an addiction, buddy. And sheâs in your arms right now.
Yes, he supposed his conscience was trying to tell him something, but it was wrong. He kept returning here because of his friends, the security business. But Charlotte pulled him back in like a reel catching a fish every single time.
âNo. Fuck no.â Her high-pitched squeal surprised him. He fell back on his feet, shocked at her strength to shove him so hard.
âCharlotteââ
âShut up. No. Damn it.â She glared at him, fists tight. âGet out. Donât coddle me. Donât console me. You wonât use me. Get. Out.â
âUse you? Coddle you?â He huffed. âYou turned to me,â he yelled, frustration gnawing at him.
âGuess Iâm an idiot, but I wonât fall for it. I wonât let you close enough to betray my brother. If I even hear from him again.â Her chest heaved and sweat dotted her forehead and cheeks. Frank had never seen her so out of control, seething and yet so stunning. How ferocious she was in battle.
âCharlie?â
Frankâs head whipped around to the intruding voice in the doorway.
âCharlie, are you all right?â
âWeâre having a private conversation. Get lost, buddy.â
âShut up, Frank. Come on in, Neal. He and I are finished.â
So this was Numbnuts Neal. Dark hair, squinty eyes, tanned skin. Dressed to the nines in a suit and tie, with a cute little handkerchief in his breast pocket, and a pair of round glasses in his right hand. Jesus, what a nerd. Frank wanted to pick him up and chuck him back out into the hallway.
âI, um, just came to see if you wanted to catch up. Maybe dinner?â Numbnuts eyed Frank with caution. Good. Frank wanted the guy scared shitless of him.
But the little prick stepped forward and extended his hand to shake.
Frank eyed the small limb with the urge to break it but wanting to be an adult.
âOh, for cripes sake,â Charlotte groused. âNeal Simmons, Frank Shaw. And vice versa. Whatever.â She pushed a pile of folders into a shoulder bag then her phone and grabbed another smaller bag she slid under her arm. âIâll call you later, Neal. I need a time out.â
âHey, wait a second,â Frank called out, following her into the hall.
âNo, Iâm done here. I canât do this right now.â She turned and rushed away.
Frank watched, jaw clenched. Anger and frustration filled him as Charlotte and Numbnuts disappeared. He strode back into her office for his cell phone heâd set on her desk earlier. Frank eyed the landline phone sitting there.
After extracting a small case from the front pocket of his pants, he opened it and pulled out the tiny device and lifted the dial-phone. He placed the electronic bug underneath it and set it back down.
If Sean contacted his sister, this would be one number he might call. As much as Frank disliked going behind her back like this, he had a job to do. No matter how much he cared about her, heâd do whatever it took to bring bad guys in. He wasnât bred any other way.
Where To Buy
Evernight Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon CA | Amazon UK | Universal Link | Bookstrand
About Kacey Hammell
Avid Reader. Romance Author. RedheadâŚ
Canadian-born author Kacey Hammell is definitely a book-a-holic. A romance reader from a young age, she fell in love with happily ever afters. These days, as a multi- published erotic romance author, she enjoys adding a lot of heat, sass, and emotion to the many genres she writes.
Mom of three, Kacey lives her own happily ever after with her perfect hero in Ontario, Canada.
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It’s time to pull on my Big Writer Panties
Degree of Resistance has now been out for a shade over a week, and the bulk of my wonderful ARC readers have left reviews (thank you all, *mwah*). I have requests out to a slew of reviewers, advertising going on at various locations, and I’m in the process of getting my media pack out to various bloggers who are kind enough to host my stuff.
And so far … yeah, the sales are perhaps a touch disappointing. The folks who have read the book so far say it’s hella good (and these people have no reason to blow smoke up my ass. If I’d produced something crappy, they would’ve told me). So what that confirms is that my marketing plan is not optimal and I have to come up with a better method of getting Evie and Ben’s story out in front of readers who love smokin’ cyborg romance.
To that end, the lovely and talented Cecilia Tan (my first editor and now my cherished colleague) was kind enough to spend an hour on Skype with me on Thursday going over various battle plans and ways to promote DoR. Some of them, I must admit, had simply never occurred to me but seem obvious in retrospect (e.g. find ways to write blogs posts that will appeal to girl geek-slanted publications such as The Daily Dot and io9, since a significant proportion of my SFR-loving readers will be found there). Others will require careful use of SEO terms to boost exposure, creative use of graphics, or just plain throwing money at the problem. As I am a poor but honest writer who is still paying off the costs of Wild Wicked Weekend (Tl;dr I had a frigging ball and sold more books than last year)Â I’m hoping to keep this last method down to a minimum, at least until the end of the month. I still want to try submitting Empress of Storms to BookBub, but I need to save up for that as well, plus I have to wait until I’m past the 90 day limit on sales prices (since it was on sale along with Palace of Scoundrels in December, that should take effect later this month).
So goes the life of a modern hybrid author. Still the best job I’ve ever had, though.
SFR Brigade Showcase: Degree of Resistance
Hello, folks! My new cyborg romance Degree of Resistance (Pacifica Rising 1) is now available on Amazon and other online retailers of fine SF romance, and I want to share a scene here that, to me, encapsulates the relationship between my main characters, bless their hard little heads.
Some backstory: the year is 2048, the United States has fallen and the Pacifica Protectorate is the most powerful nation-state on the West Coast. Evie Contreras is a freelance cybertech who lost the love of her life, Ben Drake, twelve years ago. When she finds out that Ben is still alive and has been turned into a cyborg soldier by the protectorate, she rescues him with the help of a shadowy resistance group known as Rubicon. In return, Rubicon wants Evie to go back to the Pacifica Protectorate and retrieve a hidden AI for them. Needless to say, Ben is not happy about this.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great SF romance at the SFR Brigade Showcase!
A perfect society hiding a terrible secret. An innocent man forced into cyborg slavery. A woman determined to set him free.
Freelance tech Evie Contreras is part of the Employee class of the Pacifica Protectorate, the âperfect societyâ that rose on the West Coast after the breakup of the United States. But Evie knows all about Pacificaâs festering core and the secrets that keep it in power. And when she discovers that her fiancĂŠ has been turned into a cyborg slave by a sadistic protectorate officer, she will risk everything to rescue him.
Evie opened the control box wired to the pressure tank that took water from the Burgess well. A set of dusty but functional solar cells sat on a pole fastened to the tank, and insulated wiring led from the cells to the control box. âOkay, the well is definitely not dry and the battery is pulling juice from the cells, so itâs got to be a failure in the pump,â she said, rooting around in the bag of borrowed tools next to her.
Ben crouched down next to her, making sure he was in between her and any potential restart of the McBride/Burgess water war. âThink you can fix it?â
She gave him an âare you kiddingâ glance, then returned her attention to the dusty innards of the control box. She leaned closer, nose wrinkling. âEw.â
âWhat?â
Grimacing, she reached into the box and pulled out a small, stiff body. âI think itâs a deep-fried lizard. Can they chew on wires?â
He gingerly accepted the small corpse. The arid air had done a fine job of natural mummification on it. âNot as much. It mightâve peed on something, though.â
âYay.â She peered deeper into the box. âYeah, I think youâre rightâlooks like a contact got corroded. I can fix that.â
As she got to work, Ben kept an ear cocked to the radio clipped to his jacket pocket. After giving them a royal chewing out for taking an unauthorized beer break, J.C. was overseeing the repair of the War Wagon while a chastised Vince and company drove the bartered food and the wounded security officer back to the base in the Bandit. Rob had volunteered to stay behind as backup, and Evieâs presence had been requested at J.C.âs side once she was finished with the well pump.
He watched her frown in concentration at the control box. âThere, that should work. I already primed the pump soââ She flipped a switch and the pressure tank rumbled before settling down to a satisfied gurgling. âDamn, Iâm good.â
âYes, you are.â
She squinted at him, patches of color blooming in her cheeks. He didnât think it was because of the blustery wind. âThanks. We better get back to the War Wagon.â
He got up and gave her a hand, hanging onto it once she was on her feet. She didnât try to pull away, which was reassuring. âIâm sorry about punching the wall in your office,â he said. âI shouldnât have done that.â
The corner of her mouth quirked. âI think you were justified.â
âI donât, but thanks for that.â He stared at the hollows between the hills of her knuckles, the elegant strength of the hand. He never wanted to let it go. âI just hate the thought of you going back to Pacifica without me.â
The wind drove strands of dark hair across her face, curtaining it. âI know, but I donât have a choice. Ballardie and I are the only ones who know how to shut down Lilithâs server. He canât go so it has to be me. But Iâm going to have Mark, Rob, and Lisa backing me up, and theyâre all armed and extremely psycho. Iâll be fine.â
Ben wanted to smile at her description of the security officers. âBaby, you could head in there with a cyborg army at your back and Iâd still worry.â
She snorted. âIs there anything I could say that would make you feel better?â
âNot really.â He brushed the hair away from her face. âI guess ⌠Iâm feeling useless right now because I canât protect you, and Iâm scared Iâm going to lose you again, and if that happensâŚâ He didnât want to think about the yawning abyss that would become the brief remainder of his life in that case.
Those lovely russet eyes softened. âI understand about being scared,â she said, cupping his cheek. âThatâs how I felt every time you went on deployment. I never knew if you were going to be in danger or not. All I could do was wait and pray that you came home.â
âShit.â He pressed into the warmth of her hand, memorizing how she felt against his skin. âIf this is how you felt, Iâm sorry.â
âThereâs nothing to be sorry about. Itâs part of loving a soldier. I knew that going in.â Her thumb stroked his cheekbone. âBut I also knew if there was any way for you to come back, youâd take it. And you proved me right. You survived twelve years under Camden, and you came back to me. So Iâm telling you right now that Iâm coming back to you, and Iâm bringing Ally with me.â
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. âYou better. I donât think I can live without you.â
âSame here. Twelve years was long enough.â Her lips quirked. âAnd as for you being useless, may I remind you that you just walked into a strange town alone, convinced an armed man to let you into his bar, singlehandedly negotiated a ceasefire between two crazy people, rescued a bunch of our guys in the process, and you didnât fire a single shot or spill a drop of blood doing it. Youâre about as far from useless as itâs physically possible to be.â
He considered what sheâd said. Viewed in that light, it was kind of impressive. âI was just doing my job,â he said, self-conscious.
âThatâs what heroes always say.â
âYou think Iâm a hero?â
Her smile was blinding. âWell, youâve always been my hero.â
Christ, he loved her. He pulled her into his arms, resting his cheek on top of her head. âI donât know what I did to deserve you,â he murmured, âbut damn, Iâm glad I did it.â
âSo am I.â She leaned back and kissed him, her lips cool and soft. âAnd I know this is kind of pointless to say to a hero, but try not to worry about me. The thing isââ
She shifted, her hands moving. He suddenly found himself on the cold ground, right arm straight up behind him with his hand flexed in a wrist lock and her foot braced under his shoulder blade. ââIâm not exactly what youâd call helpless.â
He huffed out a rueful laugh. He could break the lock with his augmented strength, but not without hurting her. And if he was honest with himself he was damned impressed that sheâd put him on the ground so neatly. âSomeoneâs been practicing.â
âYup. Robâs pretty damn good at hand-to-hand, and I still remember everything you and Tio Christo taught me.â Her voice dropped. âIâm coming back, Ben. And Iâm bringing our daughter with me. Youâre not going to lose either of us ever again.â
The grip around his wrist disappeared. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the most beautiful mouth in the world. Upside down, he wasnât sure if she was smiling or frowning.
She planted her hands on her hips. âYou believe me, right?â
He grinned. âMy momma didnât raise stupid children, maâam. I believe you.â
âGood.â She toed at the dust. âNow get up. Iâm freezing my ass off out here and I want to go home.â
Home. That sounded like a fine idea.
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Mid Week Tease: Degree of Resistance #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, folks, and welcome to Mid Week Tease hosted by Angelica Dawson! So, Degree of Resistance (Pacifica Rising 1), is now out and available for purchase. Today’s scene is where Evie first sees the graphic evidence of what the Pacifica Protectorate did to Ben. Next week we’re back to sexytimes, I promise.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
A perfect society hiding a terrible secret. A betrayed man forced into mindless slavery. A woman willing to break all the rules to set him free.
Freelance tech Evie Contreras is part of the Employee class of the Pacifica Protectorate, the âperfect societyâ that rose on the West Coast after the breakup of the United States. But Evie knows all about Pacificaâs festering core and the secrets that keep it in power. And when she discovers that her fiancĂŠ has been turned into a cyborg slave by a sadistic protectorate officer, she will risk everything to rescue him.
âExcuse me,â Evie said, âwhereâs the ICU?â
The nurse pointed down the hallway. âGo down, turn left at the nurseâs station, then left again at the restrooms. Itâs behind the big blue security doorsâyou canât miss it.â
âThanks.â She followed the directions to the doors that were marked âICUâauthorized medical personnel only.â If they were locked and controlled by Lilith, would the AI let her through? And even if she got through the doors, someone might challenge her.
Act like you belong. That was easy enough; she was already wearing scrubs. For added verisimilitude she grabbed a pile of sheets from a small cart as a prop, plopping the tablet on top. Taking a breath, she pushed at one of the doors. It opened and she stepped through.
A short hallway beyond ended at a circular nurseâs station manned by a handsome and clearly bored man in surgical blue scrubs. His curly black hair had been cut short, and he needed a shave judging by the heavy five oâclock shadow, but his eyes lit up when he saw her.
âHel-lo,â he said in a drawled British accent. âDid someone finally hear my plea for more help?â
âThatâs what I was told,â Evie said. âIâm Ally. Where do you need me?â
âOh, my.â The man gave her a slow up and down that was too deliberately over the top to be offensive. âDonât ask me questions like that, love. Iâm still on call for two more hours.â
She snorted, glancing at the whiteboard propped up on the stationâs counter. It had to be a list of patient rooms. âI bet you say that to all the staff members.â
âOnly the ones whoâve stolen my heart.â He plunked his hand over his breastbone. âPromise me Iâll see you later, Ally. It may be the only thing that gets me through this deathly dull shift.â
This one was a charmer, which made things easier and harder at the same time. Easier because heâd let her slide past. Harder because heâd undoubtedly check out her ass as she walked away. âNo promisesââ
âSamir. Dr. Samir Haddad.â Something on his console beeped and he grimaced. âDamn. Duty calls, love. Iâll catch you later?â
âYou can try.â Giving him a smile, she walked around the station, resisting the urge to hurry.
The nurseâs station sat at the crosspoint of four corridors like a bullâs eye. Luck and left-to-right reading habits were with her and B corridor was immediately opposite. She headed down there, counting rooms until she came to B4.
The board had Drake, B printed neatly next to the B4 slot. Licking dry lips, she grabbed the door handle. The worst they would do was kick her out, maybe yell at her for coming in without authorization, right? Sheâd take that if she could just see him for a minute, make sure he was all right, maybe even talk to him.
She opened the door, ready to smile.
And stopped.
Her mind couldnât comprehend the form that was on the hospital bed. It was as if someone had made a lifelike mannequin of Ben, then removed both arms and everything below the middle of its chest. The holes in the trunk and arms had been sealed neatly with some sort of gelatinous caps, and a variety of tubes and wires ran from them to a combination of equipment arranged around the bed. Some of it she recognized from her own work, like the rounded white med droid with the spidery arms that stood in the corner. The rest appeared to be high-tech hospital equipment, all of it keeping what was on the bed alive.
Sheâd known intellectually what a cyborg was. Artificial arms, legs, internal organs; she could accept that. She thought she could accept that. But this was something that bypassed rational thought and went straight to the primitive brain, terrifying it.
She gasped a little when he opened his eyes. âBen?â It was a whispered prayer.
But he heard her. Those grey-blue eyes opened, blinking a few times before he could focus on her. It broke her heart when he smiled. âEvie?â
Go to him. Touch him, tell him itâs going to be all right.
She couldnât move.
His smile faded. He glanced down, craning his neck. His eyes went wide, filling with horror. âNo. Oh, God, no!â
She choked back a sob, shaking her head.
Fierce color flooded his face. The horror disappeared, replaced by incandescent fury. âGet out!â he shouted, raising his head off the bed far enough to jostle some of the wires and tubes. Somewhere an alarm began to bleep. âGoddamn you, Evie, donât look at me! Get out!â
She wanted to. She didnât want to see any of this. Screwing her eyes shut, she fumbled for the door handle behind her.
âGet out!â
There it was. She stepped backwards, away from the raging half-man screaming at her from the bed.
And backed into someone. When she turned, Samir glowered down at her. âI think we need to have a chat, Ally.â
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Mid Week Tease: Degree of Resistance #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, folks, and welcome to Mid Week Tease hosted by Angelica Dawson! So, Degree of Resistance (Pacifica Rising 1), is now out and available for purchase. And to switch things up a bit, today’s scene is more tense than teasing — after Evie, Ben, and Evie’s daughter have been captured by Ben’s former commanding officer General Camden, Evie’s ex …Â I hesitate to call him boyfriend. Guy she was expected to have sex with in order to keep her job? Anyway, Gene shows up, wanting his property back. Ben’s not going to be very happy about this, as you will soon see.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
A perfect society hiding a terrible secret. A betrayed man forced into mindless slavery. A woman willing to break all the rules to set him free.
Freelance tech Evie Contreras is part of the Employee class of the Pacifica Protectorate, the âperfect societyâ that rose on the West Coast after the breakup of the United States. But Evie knows all about Pacificaâs festering core and the secrets that keep it in power. And when she discovers that her fiancĂŠ has been turned into a cyborg slave by a sadistic protectorate officer, she will risk everything to rescue him.
Camden settled back on the desk, wrinkling her nose. âThere, thatâs better. Now, the rest of us can have a lovely little chat.â
âYeah, about that,â Gene said, practically vibrating in place. âYou want the guy and his kid, fine. Youâve got them. Iâm taking Evie now.â
Evie wasnât sure who tensed first, herself or Ben. If Gene took her now, she knew sheâd never see Ben or Ally again.
The general pursed her lips in dismay. âOh, Iâm afraid I canât let you do that. I need her for this next part.â
Geneâs attention jumped between Evie and Camden. âWe had a deal. I was supposed to tell you if she showed up. Youâd take anyone she was with, and Iâd get her. That was the deal.â
Camdenâs bright good humor didnât change, but a thin layer of ice formed under it. âTo paraphrase one of my favorite movie characters, Iâm changing the deal.â She leaned forward, fixing a predatorâs grin on the younger man. âPray I donât change it further.â
Evie had to bite back a hysterical laugh when Geneâs jaw dropped in shock. He struggled to regain control, his status as a Shareholderâs heir helping to shore that up. âThat shit may work on your soldier boys, lady, but it doesnât work on me. I went to a fuckload of time and expense to get a cabin up north for her, and Iâm not going to waste all of that because you want to play some fucked-up game.â
Camden blinked. âI see. And what were you planning on doing in this cabin with Ms. Contreras?â
âWhat do you think?â
Benâs muscles tensed for a lunge at Gene. Evie gripped his arm hard.
The general steepled her hands, raised index fingers resting on her lips. âIâm thinking you were planning on kidnapping a citizen of the protectorate and imprisoning her in that godforsaken wilderness near Portland so that you could rape her whenever your wife-to-be cut you off from your marital privileges. Is that roughly what you had in mind?â
This time Geneâs jaw almost hit his chest. âIâm notâI donâtâwhat the fuck is wrong with you?â
Evie had to throw all of her weight into keeping Ben on the couch. âDonât,â she pleaded softly. âPlease.â
Camden threw them a smirk. âCaptain Drake here doesnât seem all that impressed with your plans, Mr. Song. Neither does your inamorata, to be honest.â
Startled, Gene glanced at Evie. âLook, I know itâs little primitive but itâll do for now.â From the slight whine in his tone, it was clear he was annoyed at having to use persuasion. âBut you can stay there and no one will ever be able to find you, I promise.â He held out a hand. âSheâs not stupid enough to shoot either of us. Come on, letâs go.â
Evie stared at him. He was right; Camden wouldnât shoot the heir of Dae-Jung Song in his own home. If she took his hand and walked out the door with him now, sheâd live.
As his sex slave, trapped in the middle of nowhere and totally dependent on him for everything. Protected behind his privileged bubble, he couldnât understand that his offer wasnât life. It was a life sentence.
Slowly, she shook her head. âIâm not going anywhere with you, Gene.â
His brow furrowed. âGoddamn it, Evie, Iâm telling you I found a way we can be together. Hye wonât ever find outââ
âI donât care about Hye. Iâm not going anywhere with you, donât you understand that?â She wrapped her hand around Benâs. Gene spotted the gesture, eyes widening in astonishment. âI donât want to be with you.â
His incomprehension disappeared, replaced by anger. âYou belong to me,â he snarled.
âNo, I donât. I never belonged to you.â All those emotion bottled for so many years rose to the surface, burning her clean. âI didnât have a choice about fucking youâthat was all your fatherâs idea. Now I do have a choice. Iâm free, and Iâm not going anywhere with you.â
He bared a set of perfect teeth in a predatorâs snarl. âYou stupid bitch. Iâm going to stash you in that cabin until that fucking fidelity clause is up, and I will fuck you any way I please, and you will say âthank you, sirâ each fucking time, do you understandââ
âSit down, captain,â Camden barked.
Ben dropped back onto the couch from a half-crouch, blue eyes flat and murderous as they fixed on Gene. âThen tell him to shut his mouth before I shut it for him permanently,â he said softly.
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So, yeah, I’m nervous
Degree of Resistance will be available at midnight tonight, which means everyone who pre-ordered a copy (*MWAH* I love you so much), you’ll immediately be able to jump into Evie and Ben’s story.
And I’m nervous. I know that sounds sort of ridiculous — this is my seventh novel, why am I nervous? I have no idea, I just am. I’m really pleased with it, and I kinda fell in love with these two so I want their story to do well. And since the sales for Palace of Scoundrels have been meh, I may be kind of worried that the success I had with Empress of Storms was a fluke and this one might tank as well. It’s a legitimate fear, after all.
Of course, when I mention this to various people they whap me around the head and tell me to stop being ridiculous, it’s a solid story that’s hitting in the middle of the android/cyborg/AI romance wave and people will like it (and if it sucked these folks would have sat me down for a come-to-Jesus talk). And I feel better for awhile.
And then, because my brain is paranoid and hates me, I think, “Well, shit, what if I offend Latinx with my portrayal of Evie? I grew up on the south side of Chicago with Mexican-American friends and neighbors, but that was decades ago. Eve and her family are on the West Coast — maybe I got language use wrong. Or cultural elements. And what about Song and her family? What did I screw up?”
To which my betas have pointed out that 1) this story takes place 31 years in the future, in a different country that’s only loosely based on the West Coast as it is now, and a lot of cultural stuff will have changed, plus none of the characters are cardboard cutouts put in simply to tick an ethnic box. Which is nice, but doesn’t mean that I didn’t foul up somewhere. I will say now that if I got something wrong, for the love of Kage Baker tell me so that I can learn from my mistakes and fix them in the next book.
So, yeah, Nic is perhaps a tad overwrought at the moment. This too shall pass and I’m sure I’ll feel much better in the morning, but for now don’t be surprised if you find me in a corner somewhere gibbering quietly to myself.
On the plus side, the DoR print books arrived this afternoon. Damn, CreateSpace, do you hire the Flash to deliver your stuff or what? So I am totally set for Wild Wicked Weekend.
Author swag, promo, and wine — oh, my!
So I’m running around like the proverbial headless chicken trying to get my gift basket and author swag for Wild Wicked Weekend put together, and I like how things are shaping up. The gift basket will have a tiara, three–count them, three–bottles of wine, both Two Thrones books and Degree of Resistance (CreateSpace worked a miracle and the print copies should arrive the morning I leave for San Antonio), some lovely chocolates from World Market, Belgian hazelnut cookies, a VISA gift card, a Burt’s Bees care package, and a purse-sized lint roller and bottle of hand sanitizer for purposes of practicality. If you’re coming to San Antonio next weekend, make sure you bid on my basket — it’s going to be awesome. Also, come find me at the group signing and get me to personalize your books.
I’m also busy doing promo on Facebook and Twitter for Degree of Resistance, (THREE MORE DAYS, PEOPLE! Get your copy at 99¢ while you still can!) and I came close to disaster a few times. See, in order to have the ad graphic appear instead of the graphic link to Amazon I have to upload the ad first, then paste in the text with the Amazon link. The link is still active, but that way I get to choose what graphic gets used in the post.
Under normal circumstances this little dance works splendidly, except that my graphic is only one of two graphics on my desktop at the moment and I almost posted a picture of Louis Herthum a couple of times. Which wouldn’t be bad, mind you, especially since he provided so much inspiration for this book. But it’s rude to involve people in your PR without their permission.
That being said — damn, he’s cute.
Nicola Cameron Writes 