Forever Defend Wallpaper
1920 x 1080 – DOWNLOAD HERE (Link to Image)
Forever Defend Snippet 02 of …
UNEDITED
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Yollin System
The main meeting room, also called the “throne room” when Bethany Anne wasn’t around, was filling with dignitaries from three different alien groups.
The Ixtalis had come back. After their first attempts had gone fantastically wrong—using spy technologies to capture information about the humans and/or trying to get them to trade for their gems—they had sent a second group.
The second group had never even made it onto the Meredith Reynolds. They had held one video meeting during which the Ixtali Legate had demanded that Bethany Anne engage in trade with them. Bethany Anne had simply looked at the Legate on the screen, then turned and spoken to someone off-screen. “Tell ArchAngel I wish her to remove a ship from my presence.”
The Ixtali Legate’s ship had made it back through the commercial gate damned quickly when the Leviathan-class superdreadnought had started moving in its direction.
The Yollins waiting in the third ring to go through the gate had snickered as the Ixtalis negotiated with a freighter captain to exchange places in the queue with them to facilitate their departure.
This third time, the Ixtalis had sent a bigger delegation, complete with several high-ranking officers. Surprisingly, they had asked politely for a chance to speak with Bethany Anne. No trade required, no technological efforts to subvert anything.
No one on the Meredith Reynolds had believed them, but so far the Ixtalis had acted in good faith.
Her first meeting with them would be held this morning.
Her second meeting of the day was with a group of tall blue bi-pedal beings that reminded her of light blue basketball players. Well, ones with snub noses, anyway.
Her final meeting looked to be the most interesting. This group, the Yaree, was an alien version of Earth Gypsies who searched the stars. The nicest thing you could call them were archeologists. The worst? Possibly grave robbers.
Either way, this delegation supposedly wanted to pay tribute to the new Yollin Royalty. Bethany Anne had a bet on the side with TOM over what they really wanted. ADAM was holding the money, and would decide who had won the bet.
—
The large Yaree ship, a sphere with a large pyramidal-looking structure jutting from the back, held off from the QBBS Meredith Reynolds at the coordinates provided by the humans. Inside, Delegate Tomthum reached up to his right eyestalk and scratched it halfway down. He had three eyestalks, all of them able to turn in different directions. Presently, he was looking at the screens ahead of them.
“Do not,” he told the other three on the bridge with him, “move us from this location.”
The shallow eyestalk-bobs he received from the Captain and crew provided the Delegate with comfort. This was the opportunity his people had awaited for generations. Most aliens did not know the true history of the Yaree. Considered nothing more than robbers in better quality space ships, they were scorned and reviled in bars all over the Systems.
No one had been tasked with sharing the story outside their own people for over two generations.
This small group had been tagged at the last Festival of Assembly to seek out a meeting with the leader or leaders of the people who had taken out the rumored Kurtherian Leader of the Yollin people.
They were directed to divulge the true story to this alien Empress.
Or kill her to keep the truth hidden until another race might show themselves to be trustworthy.
City of Bouk, Planet Straiphus, Straiphus System
The bar wasn’t dingy, not as bars in Bouk went. The large Yollin ex-mercenary wiped down his drinking establishment’s tables and kicked over one of the few couches that seated the four-legged Yollin elite who would occasionally come into the bar. Many of his patrons enjoyed sitting on the long couch. If it hadn’t been such an expensive proposition and a waste of good floor space, R’yhek would have just purchased couches and replaced all his normal chairs with the more expensive furniture.
That would have shown he didn’t have an issue with the new rules: elite seating for everyone! He stood and reached back to shove his carapace into place. The damned thing had been blasted out of position in a different life, and it would occasionally slip when he bent over to clean.
By Yoll, it hurt when it did that.
He rubbed his mandibles in thought and eyed the space. He rarely—if ever—was full-up in here. Maybe if he took out a third of his tables to give him extra floor space he could upgrade all the chairs?
The door to his bar opened, and he looked over to see who was entering this early in the afternoon. Usually it was someone who had pulled a double shift and was just getting off work.
He eyes widened in surprise as he had to look down, and then down some more, to see who had entered.
It seemed tiny.
And it was human.
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Yollin System
Bethany Anne looked at John, who was blocking the exit from her rooms. “You have GOT to be shitting me!” she fumed, trying her best to shoot lasers at him from her eyes.
TOM chose that moment to pay attention to what she was doing.
Shooting lasers from your eyes is not going to work
Why the hell not? I can throw fire-fucking-balls!
You have also figured out eighteen other neat tricks. But attenuating light at the intensity of a laser isn’t going to do your eyeballs any good. You will spend all your time in pain while you heal them.
Bethany Anne huffed. You’re a damned party-pooper.
“Nope,” John returned simply. He held out the large case with one arm. She knew it was heavy as shit, and she considered standing there until he either had to use two hands or let it drop.
Then she could make a break for it and run around him on the right, bouncing off the wall to get through the door. Or she could just walk through the Etheric and bypass him. But that wasn’t how these games were played.
“You can stay there,” John told her, “and make me hold this all afternoon.” He smirked when her eyes told him he had guessed her thoughts. “But let me inform you that this isn’t very heavy, and I recently had Jean add a new feature to my armor.”
Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow and bent at the waist to peer under his outstretched arm. “Sonofabitch,” she murmured. She took a step forward and reached out to feel along his side and underarm before confirming with the man staring down at her, “These arms lock?”
He nodded.
She looked at the geometric designs in the armor. “What is this fucking design?” She traced it with her index finger to figure it out. The plates linked, and yet each seemed to slide beneath the next.
“It’s something TOM came up with.” She gazed back up at John, who winked as he told her, “It involved lots and LOTS of math. I zoned out.”
FROM MICHAEL >>> Wow, jet lag coming back this direction (From Europe) is easier to deal with. Yes, I know that is what everyone says, but the experience does fit the commentary.
Which is nice, because it sucked great big Yollin balls going TO Europe. I like to wake up early (7-8AM) and getting some work done, I was learning how to try to get work done at 1-3AM in the morning over there.
GAH!
Now, I’m getting work done at 6 AM in the morning and life seems to be coming back to normal. Except for that wakeup and getup at 5AM in the morning.
I’m not usually THAT damned crazy. It’s ok, this will pass 😉
My eyes were closing when I wrote the FB post to put up the first snippet last night at something like 10:30 PM… It was weird.
On to writing the final chapters and hopefully being words complete by tonight.
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael
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.