Forever Defend Snippet 01 of …
UNEDITED
Yollin System, Three Years After Straiphus Rebellion
They say that history is written by the victors, and they are right. The reason is completely logical. Those who lost aren’t around to write anything.
The dead can’t write from beyond the grave.
The latest and most impressive ship built in Yollin’s new military shipyards slowly and smoothly slid from its moorings as the hundreds watching from nearby ships raised their hands in salute.
The Empress stared in silence as the massive new ship glided into place next to her official Royal In-system Transport Pod. Doors opened to allow the Empress’ conveyance to enter the new ship’s cavernous docking bay.
It wasn’t long before the passengers from the Transport Pod disembarked and made their way to the bridge, which was located in the center of the massive vessel. Bethany Anne stopped outside the bridge to look at the six-foot-wide dark gray stone monument that had so many names chiseled into it. She reached over and rubbed her hand across a few. Turning, she wiped a tear from her cheek and took the last few steps to the bridge. The doors opened automatically for her.
She nodded to those who had gathered to await her arrival: the head of the Yollin shipyard, the team who had worked to make this ship usable by both humans and Yollins, and the crew who had developed the massive electronic infrastructure necessary to house the new Intelligence.
She walked straight to the Captain’s Chair and sat down. The Shipyard Master looked at the Minister of Defense, who winked back at him.
“This is Empress Bethany Anne of the Etheric Empire. Show yourself,” she commanded.
A face which was a replica of Bethany Anne’s slowly brightened into view on the front screens, her eyes flaring red. Some on the bridge were shocked to see the face of the Empress on the screens.
Their Empress, however, smiled in satisfaction. “Hello, ArchAngel. It’s damned good to have you back.”
The face on the screen appeared to look around the room at everyone standing on her bridge, then directed her gaze to the woman seated in the Captain’s Chair and smiled.
“Hello, Mother.”
There was a second when no one even breathed, as the AI continued, “This is the, Leviathan-class Superdreadnought ArchAngel II. I have been commanded to protect the Etheric Empire by Empress Bethany Anne. The Weapons Lockdown Protocols on this ship have not yet been implemented. Do you order me to enact lockdown protocols, Mother?”
“No, I do not,” Bethany Anne replied.
“Lockdown protocols are not activated. Leviathan-class Superdreadnought ArchAngel II is now fully operational and will fight all who attack the Etheric Empire until victorious…or destroyed.”
Bethany Anne smiled, her eyes red in memory of those whose names graced the stone outside the bridge. “Good. It’s time you kicked some more ass, ArchAngel.”
It had been ten years since that event, and the Etheric Empire had grown in influence, power and prestige. Unfortunately, what they hadn’t grown in was knowledge of where Kurtherians might be hiding.
In the intervening time, those who were aware of the rumors of the human’s Empress discounted them. While she was very commanding in person, most didn’t believe the stories the humans told in the bars, cities and outer places.
Or the few videos she still permitted to float around.
That was about to change.
CHAPTER ONE
Pirate Ship F’zeer
The vessel on his screen was neither sleek nor svelte. In fact, if you looked closely at it, you might have called it a large bathtub in space.
It was ugly, but it wasn’t small. The potential value of its contents was significant enough that even a small piece of them would be worth a couple weeks of gluttony on one of the pirate worlds.
Or on some of the seedier space stations that existed in most systems.
The captain of the pirate ship F’zeer stayed the course as he watched the passive viewing instrumentation’s data. For the last five years, those damned humans had made his job more and more difficult in the outer reaches of the Eubos, Straiphus and Gorn Systems. First he had been forced to give up his minor slave-trading efforts in Eubos, then black-marketeering had largely become unprofitable in Straiphus, and now the rumor was that just a bit over thirty days ago there had been a set of news torps shot into the Gorn System warning that the Etheric Empress’ Rangers would be extending their damned reach into that locality.
For the good of all citizens.
Well, Brell thought, it wasn’t for the good of his clan at all. So apparently the Etheric Empire didn’t consider his kind citizens. Which was fine.
He didn’t want to be a part of their special clique anyway.
“Captain?” First Officer Wig turned to look at him from his seat a step lower on the bridge. “Permission to engage?”
Brell hadn’t found any ships following the massive commercial vessel, and he had tried. His ship had placed large emitters on the other side of the trajectory the ship was expected to fly. If there had been a cloaked vessel lying in wait, they would have known about it.
“Go,” he commanded finally, and reached for his log book. They might have been pirates, but that didn’t mean they ran a loose ship.
If you weren’t a good businessman, being a pirate could be an excellent way to lose your life.
Commercial Transport K’Leen II out of Yollin Territory, heading toward Gorn Station 2215
“Captain, we just got hit by active sensor!” Radar Operator D’ber yelled.
“Dammit.” Captain M’rin clicked his mandibles and locked his four legs to his couch. “I had hoped the memos would do the trick.”
“That is because you just lost a hundred credits to me,” the Captain’s steward commented as he placed a drink and a stim pill next to the Captain.
Captain M’rin turned to look at his steward, who had a small gleam in his eye. “Well, it might be that, or it might be those idiots.” He pointed toward the main screen on the bridge, which was now plotting the location of the suspected pirate vessel. “Assholes might just blow some holes in us instead of boarding.”
Steward A’nick sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, a completely human movement. “We all have a time to die, Captain.”
“Well,” M’rin turned toward the screen as he waited for the next step in this dance, “if it is all the same to you, I don’t intend to do that anytime soon.”
A’nick nodded. “I doubt our passengers wish to perish either.”
Captain M’rin punched a button. “This is the Captain speaking. We have a possible pirate heading in our direction. All secondary personnel, go to your safety zones and remain there until we sound the all-clear or call you for support services. Please be aware that decompression might occur. Take all necessary precautions.”
He clicked off the call button and blew out a breath of air. “Ok, patch me into Section Two-Two-One.”
Section Two-Two-One, Mid-Spine, Commercial Transport K’Leen II
Ryu held his hands straight out, palms down. His face was a study in composure, eyes unblinking. If you didn’t’ know any better, you might think him a 3D-printed statue.
The set of hands beneath his barely flinched, but the change was enough for him to pull on the Etheric and move his hands out of the way. The female’s hands sliced through the air where his had been a microsecond before.
“DAMMIT!” Tabitha hissed as she missed Ryu’s hands. She had decided that he would use a straight-back exit strategy for this game of slaps, but the little bastard had pulled his hands in two separate directions.
“That is officially seven misses in a row, Kemosabe,” the Japanese man told the Hispanic woman. “You now owe me seventy pushups.”
“Gott Verdammt!” Tabitha eyed him. While she technically outranked him, he was still one of her two mentors and counselors. She had learned a lot in the last few years, but she would never catch up to the knowledge Ryu had acquired in the hundreds of years he been alive.
“Double or nothing?” she asked, smiling at Ryu in an attempt to sell it better.
He raised an eyebrow. “No.”
“Double-dammit!” Tabitha groaned as she dropped to the floor. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”
“You need the exercise anyway, Tabitha,” Ryu consoled her. “Why is it that doing the exercises is a problem?”
“It’s exercise,” she grumped. “That’s all I should have to say. Hell, it’s not chocolate or sex, so why would you even ask?”
The speaker came on. “This is the Captain speaking. We have acquired suspected pirate activity. What is your command, Ranger Tabitha?”
Tabitha spoke up. “Mind your P’s and Q’s, Captain M’rin, and tell me where the fucking exit on this ship is. Or at least where they are going to come aboard.”
Pirate Ship F’zeer
Captain Brell nodded to his communications specialist. “Put me on tight-beam to the K’Leen.”
Brell was hoping that he… Yes! As he was waiting for the communication video link to connect and steady, he heard that the captain of the other ship was a male Yollin. He wondered if he could get the captain to defect from the Etheric Empire and bring his ship along for the ride. “This is Captain Brell of the F’zeer. Who am I addressing?”
The video didn’t show. “This is the captain of the K’Leen out of the Yollin System, part of the Etheric Empire. To what do I owe this honor?”
Captain Brell released the transmit button so his voice wouldn’t travel. “Honor?” He looked around the bridge and spotted the chuckles he had anticipated. He pushed the button to talk. “K’Leen,” he started, leaning into the mic, “you will slow down, and we will board your ship. We are going to review your manifests and decide on the most valuable tribute to take for allowing you to continue on your way.”
Brell exhaled dramatically. “And unfortunately, Captain, you and your command staff will be offered the opportunity to join us here on the F’zeer as our short-term guests. And by guests, I mean slaves. Now, if you don’t like this choice, I would like to offer you the chance to join our Navy. With such a handsome ship as the K’Leen, you and your command staff would be celebrated upon your arrival.”
Brell muted the mic. “Of course,” Brell continued, winking to his First Officer. “Everyone else on the ship will be either sold into slavery or spaced. Probably half of his command staff will also be sold or spaced.” Brell shrugged his shoulders. “But what he doesn’t know probably won’t affect this next decision, anyway.”
The K’Leen’s captain’s voice came back over the speaker, his annoyance evident. “F’zeer, you can kiss my Yollin behind. There is no way I will give up my ship to your useless Skaine asses.”
Brell punched the button. “Why are you suggesting we are Skaine, Captain?” He released the button and continued talking just to his bridge crew, “Not that he is wrong. I’m just curious.”
The answer didn’t make him any happier. “Because,” the K’Leen’s Captain said, “the Etheric Empire has scan data on many of the Skaine ships, and we have a 98.7% match to your ship, real name Kurket. This information has already been sent to our home office, and from there it will be sent into Central Defense Command.”
Section Two-Two-One, Mid-Spine, Commercial Transport K’Leen II
“Gott Verdammt!” Tabitha hissed. “He’s going to fuck up my opportunity here.”
Ryu shook his head. “The goal, Kemosabe, is to protect the transport, the assets, and reduce piracy. Not to kill every Skaine in existence.”
Tabitha looked over at her Tonto. “Well, those might be the written commands, but I received a memo.”
“Yes?” Ryu looked sideways at his boss. Memos had become digital voodoo with Tabitha. The more outrageous they were, the more believable it was that they were real. How she alone received them in foreign systems so she could point to them when she needed to, he wasn’t sure.
Ryu and Hirotoshi had tried questioning Achronyx, only to have him tell them he didn’t have the information they sought.
Both knew Tabitha had enough programming prowess to accomplish such sneakiness as the memos, but had figured she would have engaged Achronyx’s assistance in any such endeavor.
So far, they had gotten nowhere.
“Yes, the memo stated that the Skaine would be dealt with ‘in a manner commensurate with their previous behavior.’”
FROM MICHAEL>>> <Author wipes forehead> …. Ok, I have to admit that I was SWEATING (not only literally, but figuratively as well) with trying to hit end of this month or very beginning of July with this book release.
Why?
Well, I released my last solo book (The Darkest Night – The Second Dark Ages (Michael’s Return) on May 24th and my goal was to try and hit the end of June, one (ish) months later. But, in the middle of all of this was our son’s graduations (Jacob and Joey) from High School, all of the family and parties that entails, PLUS a long 19 day vacation trip to Europe in the middle of everything plus three additional collaboration releases, Audio books…
You know, the normal stuff.
Add in that I got sick for about 8-10 days during the trip and it has been challenging (what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, right?)
Well, I’m happy to say I have over 62,000 words in editing, and only 2 chapters to finish (I hope to finish words complete tomorrow.)
I’ve got two last bang bang, pew pew …kill, kill, kill and kill some more scenes to write and then we are wrapping it up for Final Editing / BETA pass and JIT pass before release to everyone here.
I hope you enjoy the latest adventures of Empress Bethany Anne… Or better known to those at the end of the book – The Queen Bitch.
Michael
Nomad’s Force – Snippet 1
Nomad’s Force
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 9
SNIPPET 1
UNEDITED
By Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle
Japan
Kimber and Kaeden made short work of the obstacle course set up outside the command center. Akio hadn’t allowed them to be idle during their recovery and acclimation time. He made them rebuild the course, tripling the height and length of the obstacles. Ramses was still re-learning how to walk before trying to run.
Akio refused to let anyone sit out, so Cory had trained every day, just like Kim and Kae. Her nanocytes were not fully up to the challenge like those of her siblings, but she was able to perform far better than even the most capable pure human.
They saw the pod descending at the same time.
Kim, Kae, and Cory’s initial concern that it was an attack evaporated once they saw Akio strolling to the landing area to meet it. The three ran after him, acting very much like children as they pulled each other back in order to be first as they expected to see their parents.
When the ramp descended, they’d put on their emotionless faces to stand in a line as if they had been there all along. Akio looked at them for a few moments, while they tried not to smirk.
Inside the pod, Terry and Char carried their grandchildren, the two-year-old William and the five-year-old Mary Ellen.
Auburn spotted his wife and ran. They’d been apart for more than a year, as had Kaeden and Marcie. She bolted from the pod as if racing Auburn. Terry and Char waited for Felicity to find her way into the sunshine, joining her outside as the children reconnected. Cory and Akio approached, bowing together.
Then Cory rushed forward to wrap an arm around each of her parents, giving nose kisses to her niece and nephew.
“Akio-sama,” Terry started, unable to bow because of Cory and the toddler in his arms. “I want to thank you in person for taking such good care of my family.”
“It is what I would do for anyone, Terry-san, although I am especially pleased with the results. Kaeden is eight inches taller and Kimber is six. It took them some time to get used to their new bodies,” Akio replied, feeling guilty over the amount of time the process had taken, no matter how many times Terry told him that it was okay.
A normal conversion with a fully functioning pod doc would usually take days, but Akio’s system wasn’t running optimally and the changes in the people were extreme. With both of those factors, days became months.
Ramses finally joined the group. He walked stiffly, stopping and stretching often during the short trip. He’d only been out of the pod two weeks, and his new muscles needed more time stretching and flexing.
Cory put William down who immediately ran to his father. To the children, their father had always been tall, so they didn’t see the difference. Marcie used to look Kae in the eye, now, she had to tip her head backward.
Kae grinned ear to ear, then picked his wife up and swung her around in a circle which knocked both the kids down. They started to cry, but their parents were quick to the rescue.
Akio motioned for the group to make their way to the house, where he would welcome them in a more traditional Japanese manner. Terry let the others continue toward a waiting Yuko. Terry watched the happy reunion. They’d been apart for far too long, but they’d make up that time and then some
When the others had gone, Terry faced Akio, both men wearing serious expressions. “He was right there, Akio-sama. We saw Mister Smith, but couldn’t get close enough to do anything about it. Have you heard or seen anything since?”
“Nothing, Terry-san. He has disappeared and we’ve seen and heard nothing. You have won the battle,” Akio assured the colonel.
“But we haven’t won the war. I think we have a long ways to go. I’d like to spread the FDG around the globe, put them in strategic well-populated locations to keep an eye on things. Watch for people who go missing. Watch for the influence of the Forsaken. They just can’t help themselves when they’re around humans. They want to take over, build their legions of minions. I need your help in transporting our people around. Is there any way we can add a couple pods to our stable?” Terry asked, bowing humbly as he made his request.
Learn more about Craig Martelle’s books and his life in Alaska at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Short Stories
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Short Story Wednesday!
Teaching Gene to Fight
In China, Gene almost died after a fight with a Weretiger. Terry was determined to see that never happened again.
Since then, Terry spent a great deal of time turning the wrestler into a fighter, helping him understand how best to use his strengths while limiting his weaknesses.
“As big as that melon is, you’d think there’d be God-damned brain in there!” Terry yelled, spit flying from his face. Gene growled and snarled, but didn’t approach.
In Werebear form, he circled his opponent, the much smaller human, then he charged.
Terry dodged and swung a small club with metal spikes to replicate the claws of a Weretiger. Terry drove the spikes into Gene’s shoulder and raked the flesh unmercifully. Gene turned and swept a massive paw through the space where Terry Henry had been.
Terry danced out of the Werebear’s reach. Gene attacked again, pulling up short, and beginning a dance of his own. Standing on his two back feet, he weaved and bounced.
Gene worked his way back and forth until Terry was cornered. Then the Werebear attacked. Terry counted on his strength to jump over Gene and free himself, but the Werebear was too quick.
A claw swung and embedded itself in Terry’s leg, stopping him mid-leap. Gene dragged Terry to his chest, turning the human away from him to expose his neck.
“STOP!” Char bellowed. Gene opened his jaws wide. Char leapt into the air and with the full force of her Werewolf strength, she punched Gene in the side of his furry Werebear head. He instantly dropped Terry and staggered to the side, changing into human form as he fell over.
Terry stumbled, wincing at the damage to his leg. Char gave him a drink of water and together they watched Gene struggle to his feet.
“What happen? I thought I won!” he exclaimed.
“You did win, my large friend. You are getting better with each new day.” Terry didn’t give false compliments. He meant what he said.
“Next up, a bout with a real Weretiger.” Terry turned to Aaron who looked exasperated. “Yes, you.”
“Come on, Terry, he’s getting it!” Aaron whined.
“Change. NOW!” Terry demanded. Aaron didn’t bother taking his clothes off. He changed into Weretiger form and easily slipped out of his clothes.
The great cat screamed, showing its fangs. The Weretiger focused like a laser on the Werebear, then slowly laid down and started licking its paw.
Terry slapped his forehead. The two Weres had fought together, and Aaron and Gene were friends. Terry never knew what Aaron would do when he changed into Were form. In this case, the cat didn’t seem inclined to fight.
Terry stormed into the sand pit and grabbed Gene by his ears. The big man was naked and there was nothing else that Terry was willing to put his hands on. Gene’s face turned red, and Terry let go.
“Show him that a Weretiger cannot better you. Become the Werebear, my large friend,” Terry said softly, encouragingly.
Gene changed into the monstrous Werebear. He stood on his back legs and roared, then dropped to the ground, making sand fly and the earth shake. Aaron jumped to his feet, snarling afresh. Gene charged.
Aaron dashed out of the way, turned and attacked the Werebear’s flank, but Gene was ready. He dug in with his front paws and lashed out with a back leg, kicking aside the Weretiger’s attack. Bear claws and tiger claws raked each other’s leg, before they separated. Aaron circled away, slightly limping from his wound.
Gene turned and shambled slowly forward, but deliberately back and forth, trying to force Aaron into a corner. Char ran to the side once she found that she was between the tiger and the corner that Gene was trying to force him into.
Aaron bunched his legs beneath him, preparing for a mighty leap. Gene surged forward then jumped sideways into the path of the leaping Weretiger. Gene swung a giant paw, connecting with Aaron and sending him flying into a wall. Gene tore the ground up as he headed for the rebounding Weretiger.
Aaron heard him coming and leapt straight up the wall. He kicked against it and sailed well over Gene’s head. The Weretiger hit the ground and took off running.
Gene stood as he turned, ready for the Weretiger’s attack, but the only thing he saw was Aaron’s tail as teh Weretiger disappeared into the nearest stand of trees.
“I’d say that tells you how well you were doing, Gene,” Terry declared, as Char nodded.
Gene changed back into human form. He looked around before stating the obvious. “Hungry like bear.”
See what else Craig Martelle is up to at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Nomad Mortis Giveaway!
You aren’t going to believe this!
If you haven’t picked up your copy of Nomad Mortis – give this a try:) I’m giving away 50 free copies of Nomad Mortis! I’m sorry, but Amazon only lets me do US-only giveaways.
Terry’s war against the Forsaken drags on until he finds that the elusive Mister Smith has been playing chess while TH had been playing football. Where there’s one Forsaken, there’s more. When one falls, another rises to take its place. Will Terry Henry Walton’s war against the Forsaken ever end?
Please share far and wide and thank you all!
https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/84adae3b7ff5e8e6
Kneel or Die Audiobook!
We have a new AUDIOBOOK!
Kneel or Die: The Kurtherian Gambit, Book 7
The future just went upside down, when a nascent AI is added against Bethany Anne’s wishes. Then, there is David and his issues to take care of, permanently. Bethany Anne has had it with terrorists. Not encumbered with law, she seeks only justice for those who were killed in France. New members are added to the team as they continue their efforts to reach for the stars.
Nomad Mortis – SNIPPET 5
Nomad Mortis: Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8
Nomad Mortis – SNIPPET 05
UNEDITED
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles, Book 8
By Craige Martell and Michael Anderle
“Pull that into place, lame ass!” Shonna growled as she struggled with the oversized valve. Merrit was trying to loosen a bracket to align the pipe to the flange.
“Fuck off! The pipe is warped and the shit isn’t cooperating,” Merrit shot back.
“There’s only one stupid fucker here who isn’t cooperating.” Shonna glared at her mate.
Ted strolled in, looked for a moment, then walked twenty yards down the line where he cranked three times on a jack supporting the pipe’s elbow. The end in Merrit’s hand dropped and slid into the flange.
Merrit grunted an apology as he clamped the two ends together to prepare them for welding.
Terry waited out of the way until the cursing and glaring was finished.
“Pack up. We need to go,” Terry told them.
Shonna slowly turned and fixed him with an angry stare. “No. Can. Do,” she said, emphasizing each word. Terry raised his eyebrows. She raised hers in response.
“Sorry, hon. Duty calls,” Merrit apologized as he set his tools on the floor and hurried away without looking at Shonna. He motioned with his head that Terry should follow.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the sounds of the power plant.
“Run!” Merrit yelled as he bolted for the door. Terry didn’t question it. At least he was able to get one of the two. If there were only three Werewolves where they were going, they would have plenty of horsepower. He had forgotten to send for Gene, but figured Char found him. She was the alpha and this was her mission.
Terry stopped when he reached the jeep, but Merrit had already raced past and was running down the road. Terry started the jeep. When he looked at the power plant, Shonna was there, watching. He waved and smiled.
She reared back and hiked a wrench in his direction. He floored it just in time. The wrench clanged off the roll bar behind his head.
Terry spun the tires as he aimed the jeep’s nose toward the road. He gunned it until he caught up with Merrit. “What in the fuck did you do, and how in the holy hell did I get roped into your mess?” Terry called as he was even with the Werewolf.
Merrit motioned, and Terry slowed. Merrit hopped in when his pace matched.
“Whew! That was a close one.” He laughed and slapped Terry on the shoulder.
“If she’s still mad at me after we get back, I’ll beat the snot out of you,” Terry grumbled.
“She’ll be fine. I want to get a dog, and it went downhill from there,” Merrit explained.
“It better be fine, because if she throws another wrench at me, I’m beating both of your asses!” Terry kept his eyes forward to watch the road.
It was two miles from the power plant to the new barracks and landing zone. Terry made the return drive in less than three minutes.
When he pulled up to the LZ, Char, Sue, and Timmons were waiting. He left the jeep on the old road between the barracks and the athletic fields. “Did we lose somebody?” Terry asked.
“They went to get Gene,” Char replied. “Didn’t you go for more?”
“Merrit has issues. I thought it best not to bring both of them. Together. In the same vehicle. Anywhere near me,” Terry explained ambiguously.
Char gave Merrit the stink eye.
“They’re in cahoots,” Terry said out the side of his mouth. Terry covered his ears.
With one last glare, Char headed for the pod. The others followed.
Together the four opened the pod which was sitting next to the materiel that would be used to build the hangar.
“Don’t you have something to do with that?” Terry asked, looking at Timmons.
“Sure, but I’ll wait until Shonna is in a better mood,” he answered, looking purposely at Merrit.
“You knew, and you let me go up there? I almost got a wrench in the head, thank you very much.”
Char looked at all of them. “Shut your mutton holes and listen up!” she ordered, glowering. “We’re going after the three Weres we sensed in Kentucky. The pack has gotten too small and we have to grow. The war on the Forsaken is going to take all we have and then some.”
Terry wanted to ratchet up the operations tempo. Removing the Forsaken as a threat to humanity would take more of a physical presence than the FDG currently had. Besides adding warriors, he knew it was even more important to add Weres.
What better to fight in the Unknown World than those who made it their home?
The FDG’s human warriors were important in dealing with the Forsaken’s minions, the slaves, and the supporting cast. The warriors could be equipped and trained to fight the Were folk, the Forsaken, and the enhanced. As long as the FDG had numbers and firepower, along with a certain amount of silver, they would always be a force to be reckoned with.
Terry thought of the FDG as a force of nature. Their determination gave them an edge. Their leadership was far superior to anything the Forsaken could manage. Leading through fear wouldn’t bring out the best. Terry only put others in charge of his people who lived up to the same standards as he did.
Honor. Courage. Commitment.
Military words from a long time past, but they still applied. Justice never went out of vogue, not for Terry Henry Walton.
Integrity in all things. Integrity first.
Terry looked away as he didn’t want anyone to see him questioning himself, wondering about his motivations. Kirkus made him angry, but was he unleashing his anger in a healthy direction? His moral compass guided them all.
Char was with him as she didn’t want to relive that day. She was angry, too, murderously so. They were all on edge.
Shonna had thrown a wrench at him. That wasn’t about a dog. It was about Terry Henry Walton and his moral compass, always demanding something from the pack.
But it was their purpose to follow the alpha. He probably should have stopped the jeep and dragged her out of the plant. Members of the pack couldn’t be allowed to be so belligerent.
And he was angry all over again. “I’ll deal with Shonna personally when we get back,” Terry snarled. Timmons raised his hands in surrender. He wasn’t going to get in the way of an attitude adjustment.
To connect with Craig Martelle and to see his other books: http://www.craigmartelle.com
Snippet 4 – Nomad Mortis
Nomad Mortis: Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8
UNEDITED
Nomad Mortis – SNIPPET 04
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8
by Craig Martelle and Michael Anderle
The Forsaken looked at the dirt covering his brethren’s clothes. The other had traveled hard, running through the night, finding cover for the daytime, then doing it all over again.
He brought news of life and death.
“The hellspawn known as Terry Henry Walton descended on Los Angeles using Kurtherian technology. Only I escaped because I was in the city, enjoying a late-night snack. I was returning when I saw it all go down. They hunted our people like animals! How could they? Are we not superior?” the Forsaken asked.
“We have heard of this one. He isn’t completely human. He’s surrounded by Weres and the true hellspawn, the Queen’s Bitch. Alone, we can’t fight them and this is why they are successful,” the Forsaken replied, stroking his chin in thought. He sat on a heavily padded recliner, leaning back, looking relaxed.
The newly arrived was agitated. He’d just lost his friends and traveled hundreds of miles to deliver the information to one who only seemed intent on his own power.
He should not have been surprised.
“Mr. Smith! I came to you because you are the most powerful of our kind that I know of. What can you do about Walton?” the Forsaken pleaded.
“I am doing what needs to be done, collecting information and building a plan. When the plan is complete and the time is right, we’ll take care of this pseudo-human and his pets. You really should put your fear in a dark closet somewhere and lock it away. It is not a good look on you,” Mr. Smith replied.
“But what do we do?” the Forsaken cried, his voice an octave higher than it should have been. He’d left the remnants of his world behind, only to find that his new situation was no better.
Something would have to change before he could get back to an acceptable status quo. He had been someone back in LA, but here, he was back to being nobody.
He sighed heavily as he tried to tolerate his new role, hoping to be given the opportunity to work his way up.
“What can I do to help?” the Forsaken asked of Mr. Smith, putting proper deference in his tone.
Mr. Smith smiled at the groveling, fawning refugee. The Forsaken would find something for his newest addition to do.
Check out Craig Martelle and his other books at http://www.craigmartelle.com
The Expanding Universe, Volume 2!
The Expanding Universe, Volume 2
More stories from Michael’s collaborators!
With stories from Scott Paul, Craig Martelle, Amy DuBoff, J.L. Hendricks, M.D. Cooper, and so many more, how can you miss? Over 1200 Kindle pages. Twenty-three talented authors. Twenty-three remarkable stories. One incredible science fiction collection.
The Expanding Universe, Volume 2 is now available, exclusive to Amazon, always FREE on Kindle Unlimited.
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Short Story!
Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Short Story Wednesday!
Twenty-five years ago, Joseph had excused himself and gone to sleep. He woke four years later, refreshed and famished. When he showed up in North Chicago, he discovered the growth and general happiness of the people. They had not welcomed him freely, but they hadn’t shunned him either.
He found Terry and Char and the youngster called Cordelia. She had a wolf’s ears but also a sparkling personality.
Terry had greeted Joseph like an old friend. “You asked us to have a cow ready for you. We can do that. Load up, Joseph!” They took the dune buggy and with Joseph standing inside the vehicle, hanging onto the roll cage, they headed out, leaving the town and traveling the rough roads of what used to be residential streets.
They continued west for a few miles before Joseph smelled the burgeoning stockyards. When they drove up, Joseph saw the sign–‘Weathers and Sons Prime Beef.’
He smiled to himself. Labels. Even in the world after the fall, they still had labels.
“I suspect that this is the best beef around?” Joseph asked. Terry laughed fully.
“You would suspect right,” Terry answered, slowing as the dune buggy bounced over the cattle guard.
An old man working on the side of the road motioned for Terry to stop.
“Hey, Lester! How’s it hanging?” Terry called out.
“See, Betty? See? I didn’t do nothing, and this young whipper-snapper is making trouble!” the old man claimed. He turned back to Terry Henry and gave him the finger. “You can suck my ass, young man!”
Char’s purple eyes grew huge and started to glow as she looked at her young daughter. Char climbed from the dune buggy and stalked toward the old man. He raised a shovel as if he was going to hit the tall and beautiful Werewolf.
She ripped the shovel from his hands and threw it away. She grabbed his ear as if he were a small child and dragged him to the dune buggy.
Joseph watched in good humor, not saying anything because he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a Char tirade. He’d already been there, and it hadn’t turned out well for him.
“Apologize this instant, Lester, you curmudgeonly old bastard!” She forced his face close to the dune buggy.
“I’m sorry young miss. I didn’t see you there,” he stammered.
Cory leaned out of the dune buggy, took his face in both her hands and kissed him on the forehead. His features melted into a smile.
“I’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens again, princess,” he said in an old, but tender voice.
He bowed, nodded to Char, and walked away to retrieve his shovel. Betty was happy that she didn’t have to give Lester the big hairy what-for. She hurried to the dune buggy before it drove off and gave Char and Cory hugs.
“Don’t mind him,” she said, shaking her head and smiling warmly. “Thank you for all you’ve done for us. It’s nice living among people again and not being afraid.”
She waved as Terry drove toward the large barn. Joseph was hungry, and he could smell the warm blood.
Visit Craig Martelle’s website at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Storm Raiders – Snippet 4
Final Snippet for Storm Raiders!
Storm Raiders: Storms of Magic Book 1
UNEDITED
By PT Hylton and Michael Anderle
Abbey carried another armload of helmets to the cart at the front of the shop. All of them were crafted in the popular style with the bit of metal that extended down over the nose. Abbey never liked that style. It seemed to her the metal would obstruct vision on the battlefield, and if you couldn’t see in a battle, what good were you? The Storm Captains kept ordering them, though, so maybe things played out differently in battles than she imagined.
Not that she’d ever find out. No Storm Captain would ever hire her, no matter her skill with a sword. It wasn’t that she was a woman; in Holdgate, men and women alike were expected to be trained in the ways of war. But she was an Arcadian, an outsider from the rich, soft south. That disqualified her from employment on a ship.
She put the helmets into the cart and then walked back to the rear of the shop where Benjamin was hammering a piece of iron into shape, humming a happy tune as he worked.
He’d been in a pleasant mood since her sword fight with Olaf an hour earlier. They had both been. Abbey knew there was nothing that put Benjamin in a good mood like watching her do what she did best.
Benjamin set down his hammer and inspected the iron. He glanced at the forge, then, instead of walking over to it, he raised his right hand. His eyes turned black, and a fireball the size of an apple appeared, floating a few inches above his hand. He held the fireball to the iron.
“You know, if you worked as hard at learning my other lessons as you do at the sword, you’d be quite the magician by now.”
Abbey sighed. This again. He was always trying to get her to practice his form of magic. “If it comes to a fight, I prefer a sword.”
It wasn’t that she couldn’t do any magic. She could create a fireball, though she couldn’t control it with the finesse her father was demonstrating now. She could move objects with her magic. She could even make her sword glow with a terrifying green flame if she really concentrated. But she didn’t enjoy the way it made her feel. It drained her somehow.
But that wasn’t the primary reason she didn’t focus on developing her magic skills.
She was enough of an outsider already. Her father’s form of physical magic was so different than the storm magic used here in Holdgate. The last thing she wanted was another thing to make her different.
She respected her father’s skill. He’d trained under some of the best magicians in the world at the Academy in Arcadia, and the things he could do left her in awe, even after growing up with him. But admiration was quite different than the dedication it would take to master those skills herself.
Benjamin held the fireball in his left hand and picked up the hammer with his right. As the fire heated the iron, he began working it with the hammer. He spoke over the clang of the metal. “Swordplay and magic aren’t that different.”
Abbey gathered another armload of helmets and headed toward the cart. “Really? You could have fooled me. One of those things lets me beat up smug bullies, and the other turns my eyeballs black.”
“They both require focus. They both channel your anger into physical force.” He set the hammer down and dispelled the fireball. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a bit of magic behind some of those sword strikes at the end of the fight.”
She paused. “Hang on, are you accusing me of cheating?”
“Not at all. When you know how to use magic, sometimes it comes out in unexpected ways. It was the same with your mother. She didn’t have any formal training, just a few tricks her uncle showed her, yet her magic manifested itself when she didn’t mean for it to happen.”
Abbey felt her cheeks growing hot. “Olaf has the skill of a boar. If you’re saying I couldn’t beat that idiot without magic—”
“I’m not. I’m just saying that he’s much stronger than you, and you were batting his sword away like he was a child at the end there.” He gave her a serious look. “Abbey, magic is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s part of you, same as your skill with a sword. If a bit of it comes out in a fight, that’s not cheating. It’s using every tool you have to win.”
She started toward the cart again. “I still say I didn’t use magic. I could have beaten Olaf with one hand, let alone without magic.
“Fine,” her father said with a smile. “What do I know? I’m just a graduate of the Academy in Arcadia. Chancellor Adrien himself once complimented by magitech work. But I’m sure you know better.”
“Trust me, Dad, around here that isn’t something to brag about.”
****
Abbey pushed the cart through the streets of Holdgate. Every bump in the road made the helmets loudly clank together, and there were plenty of bumps. It felt good to be out of the shop. The sun shone brightly in the clear sky, warming her as she walked. It was summer, which in Holdgate meant long days. Abbey tried to cherish these times of abundant sunlight. Things would be different in the winter, when the sun only showed itself for a few short hours, and even that did little to stave off the bitter cold.
The streets were crowded, and Abbey had to weave her cart around the people milling about. A fair number of the stormships were in the harbor, as were many of the hunters and fishermen who rarely came to the city. They were all there for the festival.
Still, Abbey kept moving. Captain Stephen was waiting for these helmets, and in Holdgate, it was never a good idea to keep a Storm Captain waiting.
Sick of the crowd in the street, Abbey cut down an alley. She headed toward the beach, hoping to find more space to guide her cart down under the docks where there would be fewer tourists. From there, it would be a straight shot to Captain Roy’s ship.
She pushed her cart along the beach. The rocky ground was even worse here, and she had to keep a firm grip on her cart to keep it from toppling over. But it was still worth it to get away from the crowd. Some might have said it wasn’t a good idea for a young woman to be walking alone under the shadowy docks, especially on a festival day, but Abbey had her sword on her hip. She wasn’t worried. If someone wanted trouble, she’d be more than happy to give it to them.
The sea seemed especially rough this afternoon, especially for such a day when the wind was so calm. She looked out at the choppy water… and she saw something. No, not something. Someone.
She let go of her cart and walked toward the water, squinting to be sure she saw correctly. After a moment, she was sure. It was a man. He was a good one hundred and fifty yards from shore.
It wasn’t uncommon to see someone swimming in the ocean, even though the water was freezing year around. Holdgatesmen were always challenging each other to demonstrations of manliness, and that often included ill-advised swims. But this man appeared to be struggling. He wasn’t making much progress. If anything, he appeared to be losing ground.
Abbey watched for a long moment as the man struggled. He dipped under the water, then his head reappeared. He was above water for only a moment before he went under again, this time for longer than before.
He’s not going to make it, Abbey realized. She had to do something.
She warily glanced at the choppy water. She was a good swimmer, but if she tried to swim out there, all she’d do was end up drowning them both. But there was no way she was letting this guy drown, either. As much as she didn’t want to, she had to use another way to save him.
Remembering what her father had taught her, she moved her hands in a complicated pattern and concentrated her energy on the drowning man. Her eyes turned black, and the magic began to flow out of her.
Moving objects with her mind didn’t come easily to her, and this man was so far away. Still, she didn’t let doubt creep in. She focused on the man and drawing him to her. She didn’t need the magic to carry him completely; she just needed to give him enough of a boost that he wouldn’t drown.
His head appeared above water again, and the man began moving toward shore. He swam through the water, each stroke taking him much farther than it should have. It was as if Abbey had him on a line and was reeling him toward the shore with her magic.
The man cut through the choppy waves, and in only a few minutes, he was dragging himself up onto the shore. Abbey recognized him—it was Dustin.
When she was a child, most of the other kids had shunned her. No one wanted to play with the weird Arcadian kid who always smelled like the blacksmith shop, a distinctive combination of coal smoke and burnt honey—a product of the beeswax her father applied to his metalwork. Dustin had been the rare exception. They’d spent long hours running through the streets together, getting into all sorts of trouble. For five years, Dustin had been a fixture in her father’s shop, stopping by nearly every day to play with Abbey.
All that had changed when he got accepted as an apprentice Storm Caller. For the first couple years, he’d simply been too busy to hang out with her. But somewhere along the way, he’d seemingly realized it wasn’t a good idea for a Storm Caller to socialize with an outsider like Abbey. The last couple times she’d seen him in the street, he hadn’t even returned her nod of greeting. Some friend.
Abbey walked to the edge of the water and held out her hand. “You all right?”
Dustin tried to stand and stumbled forward.
Abbey realized she was still pulling him forward with her magic. The poor guy looked terribly confused. He looked up at Abbey, and his face went pale as he saw her eyes. He’d spent enough time in Benjamin’s shop to know that black eyes meant magic.
“What did you do?” There was anger in his voice.
She stopped pulling him forward, and her eyes returned to normal. “Um, I saved your damned life. Maybe the phrase you’re looking for is thank you?”
“Get out of here before someone sees you,” he hissed. “You’ll ruin everything!”
She was stunned. It’s not like she’d been expecting a hug or anything, but a little gratitude would have been nice. She was half tempted to use her magic to push him back out to sea.
His eyes softened a little before he spoke again. “Look, I’m not trying to be a dick, but seriously. You have to go.”
He was looking past her at something down the beach. She followed his gaze and saw a group of men approaching. She didn’t recognize all of them, but there were a few she knew all too well. Dustin’s master, Harald, was among them. These men were Storm Callers.
Abbey realized what this was—it was Dustin’s Testing.
They were standing in the shadows under a dock, so there was a chance the men hadn’t spotted her yet. She glanced back to Dustin. He was already on his feet, running toward them.
Abbey’s eyes turned black again, and she reached out with one more bit of magic.
Dustin stumbled and fell forward, landing on his face in the sand in full sight of the Storm Callers.
“Serves you right, asshole.” Abbey stifled a chuckle andwent back to her cart.
There we have it. Abbey and Dustin have no idea about the trouble they’re about to land in, and the lengths they’ll have to go to in their fight for justice.
The book will be out VERY soon. In the meantime, follow the Facebook Page, and check out the Rise of Magic books by Chris, Lee, and Michael and Shades of Light by Justin and Michael.
To find out more about PT Hylton and his books: http://www.pthylton.com