SHADES OF LIGHT – SNIPPET 2
Gather round, people!
Shades of Light – Snippet 2 is here!!!!
Flames burst forth from the farmhouse, the same one Rhona’s brother had entered just moments before. Alastar, ever the hero, had drawn his sword and gone charging in mere seconds before, leaving her to hide far away from trouble.
Clearly, that wasn’t an option. Not when he could be in danger.
She worked her way around the farmhouse, searching for a way in. A scream sounded, then the grunt of a man, and she decided it wasn’t time to be timid. She ran for the open doors Alastar had rushed through, in spite of the black smoke that billowed forth.
The sight froze her in her tracks—her brother in his white and gold armor, his white cloak smoldering at the edges, circling a man in the black and green plaid of Clan Buchan, the fire users.
A warlock.
She had studied the various clans and what magic they used, at least to the extent that the paladins had been able to chronicle it in their war against the evils of magic.
Her first thought was to jump in and help her brother, but the warlock spun, hands pushing out, and a wall of flame came at Alastar that caused him to leap back and call upon the blessings of Saint Rodrick for protection.
Watching the shield of light that formed between her brother and the wall of flames, she knew this wasn’t her fight. But when a figure caught her eye, a cowering woman in the corner, she knew she could at least help her. She darted through the smoke, staying low in a crouched run, and knelt beside the woman. Her eyes were barely open, her breathing short.
“Sera,” Rhona said, recognizing the woman from days in the market, where she and her father sold goat’s milk and cheese. “Sera, I need you to stay with me.”
Sera moaned, and her eyes rolled toward Rhona, but she managed a nod.
“Good, I’m getting you out of here.” Rhona placed Sera’s arm over her shoulders, while wrapping her own arm around Sera’s waist before heaving her up.
Her brother’s battle cry startled her and immediately turned her focus to see that his sword had been knocked from his hands. He had reached the Warlock and was engaged in hand-to-hand combat. The two were exchanging blows without magic or blessings, but their circling and maneuvering put them closer to the burning walls and directly beneath a rafter that looked like it was about to collapse.
Rhona knew she needed to hurry, so she pulled Sera with her, pushing for the back door. The woman nearly collapsed, but Rhona grunted and pushed on, supporting nearly all of her weight. Sunlight met them as they emerged from the smoke and fire, and fresh air filled her lungs.
Then, she saw Sera’s father, lying next to the tree line. She pulled Sera over to his side, then helped her to sit next to her father on the grass before turning to check his pulse. He was still alive, though unconscious.
Another shout came from inside and this time flames blew out from every window and the doorway, followed by a cry that was unmistakably Alastar.
Her own safety meant nothing if she didn’t have him.
Throwing caution to the wind, she sprinted for the doorway. As the flames pulled back, she leaped in, dress pulled up to her face to block out the smoke.
Flames were all around her brother, pushing in on him and the circle of light that was protecting him but fading by the second.
Desperately looking around, Rhona spotted her brother’s sword on the ground. She ran for it and heaved it up with both hands, but hadn’t counted on it being so heavy. Every muscle in her body strained as she tried to lift it, hoping to charge the warlock and impale him on its holy blade. It was hopeless, though, because even as she dragged it toward him, his eyes darted toward her.
A look of confusion crossed his face, fading to determination as he lifted a hand and the nearby flames moved toward her like the river after the breaking of a dam.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—only her life, and that of her brother. The sword fell from her hands, and they seemed to lift on their own, aimed at the man, and everything darkened. She wasn’t sure what was happening, except that the flames pulled back, and the warlock collapsed to his knees, eyes turning black. A long scream came from his mouth as dark tendrils of mist or shadow, she wasn’t sure what, wrapped around his limbs and throat.
And then he was falling, collapsing to the ground.
What followed was a blur. She would have sworn it was a dream, if everything in her wasn’t tearing at her, pushing pain throughout her body. Her instinct pulled her to her brother, and he to her.
They fell into each other’s arms, both on the edge of collapse.
“Wh—what happened?” he asked, eyes darting from her to the fallen warlock and back.
She stared at him, unable to answer. How could she, when she herself didn’t know what had happened?
The flames roared and then seemed to be spinning around them. Could the warlock be up and doing this? She tried to turn, to fight again, and then collapsed.
When she came to, her eyes opened to reveal dusk had settled upon the land. She was lying on a horse-drawn cart, Sera at her side, her brother riding the horse and, staggering along behind them, bound and tied to the wagon, was the warlock.
Sera saw that she was awake and brushed the hair from Rhona’s face with a gentle smile. “We made it, Rhona. Thanks to the bravery of your brother and the blessings of Saint Rodrick, we all made it.”
Rhona groaned in pain, her body hurting like hell, so she let her eyes close and sleep take her again.
Yes, thanks to her brother… and whatever the hell had come over her. She must never let him know about it. She must never let anyone know.
To find out about Justin’s other books and follow his author journey visit: http://www.justinsloanauthor.com/
Snippet 01 of Nomad Avenged!
Who’s ready for SNIPPET 01 of Nomad Avenged?!?!?
Terry winced in pain and gasped for air. His nanocytes fought to keep up with the damage done. They were losing the battle.
The chains cut into his wrists; blood dripped slowly down his arms. One shoulder was dislocated. He’d hung there too long, feet barely touching the ground, unable to support himself when he passed out.
The Forsaken looked at his prisoner, pleased that the feeding marks still shown waxy red, but that didn’t outweigh his anger. He was furious that Terry’s nanocytes had killed one of his minions.
The bite that killed.
Kirkus considered himself a genius for not attempting the first feeding on the enhanced Terry Henry Walton. That he made a minion do it.
The Forsaken had yet to ask Terry any questions. He didn’t need to. The chained anguish had broken the discipline of Terry Henry Walton’s mind. The Vampire visited again and again, explored all that the human thought about, his enhancements at Bethany Anne’s hand, his work with Akio, especially his work with Akio.
He’d seen TH’s moral compass and it made his Forsaken hair stand on end. Kirkus had never met an individual like Terry Henry Walton. A pure soul, some may call him. A person who knew Forsaken and didn’t hate them. He considered them people who deserved a chance to prove themselves.
He saw the colonel joking with the one called Joseph. A Forsaken and the human, having a laugh. Kirkus made a fist and drove it into TH’s ribs. The man grunted as his head lolled on his sweaty chest.
The colonel’s tongue felt like a dry rag stuffed in his mouth. The air didn’t come quickly enough and he stopped fighting it, letting himself slip into the darkness.
***
Char’s eyes locked on Timmons. The purple flared and without warning, her fist lashed out, shattering his eye socket and sending him sprawling. She growled, more animal than human.
“If you fucking limp dicks had done your job, Terry wouldn’t have been captured. HOW IN THE FUCK DID YOU LET THAT HAPPEN?” she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth. The pack had failed her, had failed the entire community.
She viciously kicked a withering body.
“Look at this shit! He fought this fucking army by himself,” she snarled. Eight Forsaken lay dead, shredded by whip and knife. TH had not gone easily. No whining, no running. He had fought, toe-to-toe, but in the end, there had been too many. She studied the marks on the ground. At least four of them had carried Terry into their ship.
To see what’s up with Craig in the wilds of Alaska, visit:
http://www.craigmartelle.com/apps/blog/show/44532444-nomad-avenged-snippet-01
THE DARKEST NIGHT – Snippet 07 of …
UNEDITED
Michael left the ArchAngel and took off in the direction of the pirate ship. The vibrations in the night, up here in the sky, were a bit overwhelming and he was having difficulty focusing on the power source of the ship.
Since he couldn’t see it.
As he went one direction, he missed three small power sources heading in the other.
The ship drew nearer and the lights powered by their own energy flared into the clouds as they roiled around in the wind.
Michael solidified on the main deck and looked around. Like time memorial, pirates might have a bad reputation, but many could and would be excellent at their jobs.
Almost like their lives depended on it.
Seeking out minds in the night, he found one that was outside, but had hidden themselves deep in the protective leeway of the lookout area.
Michael grinned and looked up to the location of the man trying to hide from the night. This man’s one job, to protect the ship should someone unknown attack them, now a failure.
His scream of death would alert those on this ship that something was not right.
—
Mark noticed the two lights in the night on his umpteenth view looking around and grinned. He vacillated over whether he should inform Jacqueline that they had incoming or not. On the one hand, he would have the chance to learn just how well he could throw those coming to attack them over the edge by himself.
Or, he could find out if Jacqueline would throw him over the edge in her annoyance for not being a part of the party.
Prudence won.
He double-checked the distance the three attack ships were, and how careful they were working on their safe arrival and decided that going inside wasn’t going to cut it. He reached over and grabbed a small metal bar and tapped out a pre-decided message. Three taps, pause. Two taps, pause.
One tap.
Mark started checking his weapons were secure, his knives in place and his pistol locked in. He had a jacket now, not quite the length of Michael’s, but it helped hide most of his weaponry. He stood up, bracing himself as the wind whipped around him and grabbed the ladder that allowed him to jump down to the deck of the ship. With his hand on the rail, he at least didn’t worry about being flung out into the night by an unexpected gust of wind.
Then again, he wondered, what gusts were expected?
His landing noise was lost in the wind, and Jacqueline’s opening of the door to the inside was only seen due to the extra light it threw out into the night, not by the sound so much.
Well, for a human.
Mark raised an eyebrow to his friend and she laughed at him, “Are you shitting me?” She called out, looking around, “Someone is stupid enough to attack in this weather and Michael didn’t kill them?”
Jacqueline was looking to starboard, before she turned back to Mark, pointing a finger at him, “If you are shitting me, I’ll throw your skinny vampire ass off this ship! That would be no way to let down a lady.”
Mark opened his mouth but soon had two female fingers pinching his lips, Jacqueline had moved close to him, “If you say something that puts ‘lady’ and a disparaging remark that connects the two together into one sentence, the phantasmal pirates are going to have to take a back seat and wait until after the ass-kicking I give you!”
Mark heard the wind shifting around new ships in the air before she did, so he looked to his left, and raised his eyebrows. She never let go of his lips as she turned in the darkness. Seconds later, she caught the sound. Her fingers released his lips and the tiny ‘squee’ of delight at the anticipation of fighting some pirates flowed through her body.
Mark rolled his eyes.
He reached inside his coat and made sure all of the knives and the pistol were locked down. “I have the first to land, you wll take the second.”
Jacqueline’s head snapped around, “Who died and made you the boss?”
Mark smiled, “If you want to be included the next time people come to play, you won’t act like a spoiled princess making demands.”
Jacqueline’s lips pressed together. If there was one thing she had learned about Mark since their first fateful meeting with Michael, it was he could be annoyingly stubborn. She had tried overwhelming him with nudity.
That worked against her. Now, he probably could draw her naked from memory and she hadn’t even seen a nice moon of his.
Fucking prudish vampires. The hot new body he had developed since receiving Michael’s blood and energy was driving her nuts.
So, she tried to use her intelligence against him.
Fucking computer hacking prudish vampires. The bastard was well read and very intelligent. Seems that his type didn’t go out much and he tried to read all the time so he was damned smart.
Finally, she tried to dominate him like an Alpha.
Fucking passive aggressive computer hacking prudish vampires. He wasn’t being dominated, he was just biding his time to assert his “you’re not the boss of me” comments.
Which, she had to admit, were damned hot.
She needed to kill some pirates, then take a cold shower.
Pirate Ship Folly
“What the hell was that?” Billy asked, hearing a shriek that didn’t sound like it came from the wind buffeting the ship.
“Billy,” Sally David called out, “I can’t raise Tim from outside.”
“Stupid fucker is probably sleeping,” Billy responded. “Why he wants the nest duty in a storm is beyond me.” He thought about it a moment, “Tell Amanda and Arnold to go see what’s up. Amanda cause she will do it, and Arnold because she doesn’t weight more than fifteen pounds and the wind will throw her off the ship.”
There were snickers around the bridge.
—
Michael switched back to Myst when he heard a door open. He had looked around, but apparently, these ships were more air tight than he would have given them credit for.
Two people came out, a man and a woman. The man was large, the woman, in comparison, was quite small. The one thing that caused Michael to pause was they had something in their hearts he wasn’t expecting to find inside those that flew on a Pirate ship.
They cared.
In his Myst form, Michael pursed his lips, made a decision and stepped through the opening. He rematerialized and grabbed the door, yanking it from the man’s grip and slammed it shut. Locking the door from the inside, he turned around, ignoring the shouts of frustration from outside. He smiled at the first man who came around the corner, in shock that someone was on the ship that he didn’t recognize.
A man whose eyes were glowing red, and whose right hand were growing knives for nails.
Michael, pushing fear out from him to affect those throughout the ship started down the hall to the first man whose feet wouldn’t obey as his mind screamed at him to run.
“You shall be my second, tonight.” Michael, his voice, cold in the night, told the man. “Honor needs to be quenched and the fire is burning bright.
Outside, on the deck Arnold stopped beating on the door, trying to yank it open when the screaming started. He kept one hand on the handle as a lifeline, the other arm reached out to scoop Amanda into his embrace. He could feel her hot tears of anger, and now fear, soak a portion of his chest.
He might die tonight, but he would die trying to protect this fragile young woman.
Anti-Grav ship ArchAngel
“Sir,” Scopes operator Timms called over his shoulder to Captain Miles O’Banion, “Pirate ship is losing distance and changing direction.”
Miles nodded before calling back, “Understood, Timms.”
He reclined in his Captain’s chair and pressed his lips together before blowing out a sigh. Now, he had to admit half of why he had been afraid of waking the man himself.
Now, Captain Miles O’Banion was guilty of committing murder. He might not be the one who is killing all of the men and women on the pirate ship behind them, but he knew what the end result would be.
“May God have mercy on their souls,” he whispered to himself as he made the sign of the cross over his chest.
—
“If you don’t like me suggesting sexual positions,” Combs retorted to his partner on this trip over to the target ship, “maybe you shouldn’t reply in kind!” He argued as he piloted their small two-person ship towards their prize.
“Perhaps,” Juliana agreed from behind him, “but come on, there are sexual positions, then there are acrobatics and then what the fuck are you actually suggesting? That shit isn’t even remotely possible for a woman and there is absolutely no chance there could be any pleasure for her at all.”
Combs thought about the last position he had suggested as he concentrated on their approach. The banter was helping him focus on the task at hand, and ignoring the buffeting winds as he punched the trigger to land on the ship’s deck. The CLANG sounded as their metal skids connected, then locked tight with the magnetics and gravity locks.
“All ashore who are going ashore.” He called back as he made sure his weapons were locked in. He could hear Juliana doing the same. “Feel free to kill most everyone so our friends can catch up. Remember what Billy and Cholly said, we are scrapping this…”
Combs’ get ready speech was lost when knocking from the outside interrupted his speech. “What the fuck?” he shouted out, wondering if he should hit the gravs and try to get back to the other ship when metal started squeeking, then squeeling and finally both he and Juliana, shock on both of their faces as the brackets broke and the cockpit ripped off and a young man, his eyes blazing red stood outlined against the darkness. The lights from their pod illuminating him from in front, the lightening amongst the clouds illuminated him from behind.
“Oh,” he told the two stricken pirates, “you will be going ashore.” He reached down and slapped Combs’ hand, breaking his wrist when Combs tried to pull his pistol. He deftly unhooked the seat belts and grabbed Combs’ shirt and belt.
Juliana, mouth open, heart beating wildly watched as the Vampire twisted and Combs was yanked out of the chair, and she heard his screams as he flew out and over the side of the ship.
Those two red eyes turned to her, and she saw her death written plainly.
“But,” she breathed out, trying to catch her breath, “I’m a girl…”
The Vampire didn’t even smile, he merely unhooked her seatbelt and grabbed her like he had Combs. She heard him say before she was pulled from the ship and thrown over the side.
“So was my sister.”
Juliana closed her eyes, not wishing to know when the end would hit. On her way down, she had to wonder what this Vampire’s sister had done to him before she slammed into the sea, ending her life.
Back on the ship, Mark turned to see the second slip hit the deck and a young female approach it and started walking over to join her.
FROM MICHAEL >>> Oh, Jacqueline and Mark have been a BLAST to write. I have mentioned before that sometimes, characters write themselves. As I’m working to finish The Darkest Night, these two have created a very close connection.
I’m in the beginning of a large battle scene, one of at least two or three more in this book as Michael and others take on a large group of Werewolves outside of Paris, France. The fun of The Second Dark Ages books are they remind of the old buddy road flicks of decades ago.
Where two buddies set off on a trip and things happened?
Except, now there are ‘more’ buddies as some of our old friends join up, and instead of hijinks (although I imagine those can occur), we get more mayhem.
Just like the doctor ordered.
Then, there is that nasty thing called love that sneaks in.
I look forward to releasing this book within a 14 days…
Michael
(If you missed the latest “new addition” to the Kurtherian Gambit Universe – here it is!” books2read.com/Awakened )
AWAKENED – The Ascension Myth Book 01 – Snippet 03 of 03
CHAPTER 3
“Damn it,” Molly hissed. “The whole point of getting this close, Joel, was so that I didn’t have to try and hack through the XtraNET and deal with their port security!”
Molly was not happy. Not only was the signal not strong enough from the roof of the next building, but now Joel was trying to tell her that he couldn’t get into the server she needed.
Meatheads and technical considerations just do not mix.
She pushed the car into hover and came to rest just above the building. She hated being this exposed, but there was no other way. The underground parking lot was heavily controlled and she didn’t like their chances of getting out of there if Meathead tripped any of the security protocols.
“There has to be a server that has that label on it. It’s there somewhere.” Agitation was starting to show in her voice. She needed Joel to find this server or else it was game over.
“Well, if there is, I can’t find it.” There was a hint of irritation in his voice too. It had been a while since he had really had to perform. He was already impressive to his general clientele on his normal security and PI jobs.
Molly glanced furtively out across the city. Sure, the anti-radar paint gave them some cover from official channels, but all it would take is for someone in one of the nearby buildings to notice them out the window and report a suspicious looking vehicle, and they were screwed. This wasn’t going how they had planned it, when they had eventually gotten the ‘go’ for this project.
She scrambled to pull her kit bag into the passenger seat, and located her handheld holo. Since the capacity was all used up on her wristband, she’d had to go retro.
“Hang on…” It was Joel again, over the comm system. “There’s a secondary server room.”
Joel had made out that this was going to be a walk in the park. He figured that because his contact–their first client–worked for the company they were breaking into, it would go smoothly. He even had the guy’s security pass. But Molly was skeptical.
There was no way that Joel’s movement into the building—through the front door and straight to the server room—was going to go down as “normal” behavior. Some keycard protocol was going to pick it up, and she didn’t buy that this Mac Kerr would walk that route “all the frickin’ time”. It just didn’t stack.
Nevertheless, Joel had been able to walk in there with his gear and everything, and nothing had been flagged.
Yet.
Molly heard him grunting on the line, like he was trying to shift something out of the way.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Inserting the peg now….”
Moments later, the holo screen activated and started flashing as it located the peg and established contact.
“We’re in!” she announced, and got to work.
Joel silently mouthed “thank you” to the air above him. The last thing he wanted was to have lost face on his first job with this bright young thing. Since meeting with her in the bar the other day, the idea of having a partner in crime kind of gave him a renewed sense of purpose. He just needed to not mess it up this time.
Molly had already moved on to phase two of the game plan. Anyone sitting in the car would have noticed her mood change. When she hacked, there was an intensity of purpose—like her mind had left her body and the fingers on her keyboard were being controlled by a remote force.
“There’s a problem,” she said after a few moments.
Joel had been slouching against the stack, and now he straightened up.
“What is it?”
“Looks like someone knew we were coming. There is new code, different construction, like a shell around the original code that runs their pricing model.”
There was a silence.
“Can you fix it?”
“Not in the time we have. Lemme see if Oz has any better luck….”
“Oz?”
Aggghh, shit! She hadn’t told him.
“Yeah, the AI that is plugged into my wrist holo and neural cortex.”
“What the fuck?!” Joel hissed. “AI exists? And you have one wired into you?!” He realized he was raising his voice and mentally calmed himself while clenching his teeth in frustration at Molly.
The girl really had no clue what it was to function on a team.
“Why did you think I had to leave military so fast?”
“I heard it was the result of some questionable sexcapades, resulting in a 4077 condition.”
“That was the cover to get out. I never did it with an Estarian, let alone in his…you know. Gross!”
He closed his eyes for a half-second. “But you have a fucking AI in your brain. When were you going to share this with the rest of the team?” His irritation was slowly being replaced by curiosity.
“His name is Oz, and he jumped into my holo through the Ethertrak while I was sleeping. I woke up and realized I had two choices: turn him over and potentially give the military the goddamn singularity they will use to destroy the local galaxy—thus becoming the criminal that downloaded him onto my hacked holo—or run. We chose run.”
“’We? You’re talking like it’s a person.”
“Well, technically, he is. He has an awareness, and a personality that he’s developing, just like any entity.”
Molly, if I may interrupt, I’m in. And from my calculations, with your level of skill and the interface you’re using it would have taken 2,453 hours to crack through that shell.
“Thank you, Oz. I appreciate your help,” Molly responded out loud, partly for Joel’s benefit.
“You’re talking to him?” He couldn’t believe what was going on as he licked his lips. And right in the middle of an intense goddamn mission.
“Yes, just thanking him for saving me two-and -a-half-thousand hours of work.” She tapped a few keys on the holo, checking they were in the clear and still undetected.
“Okay, Oz. Let’s get that patch in, and then we can pull Joel out.”
Roger that, milady.
“Oz is downloading the patch that you wrote?”
“Yeah, he can respond much quicker to their security protocols. They have an adaptive algorithm that would take me hours to break. Oz is just slipping the data past it, though—like a gauntlet run.”
You’re comparing me to a warrior?
I guess I am.
I like that. I’m a warrior of data!
Now you sound like a big fat nerd. Molly laughed out loud.
You may not want to insult me while I’m performing such a delicate operation. If I make one wrong move and their system realizes it’s being tampered with, it will lock down the building including that secret server room Joel is in. He will be trapped, and it seems they have heavy air installed in there too.
Molly grimaced. “Joel, heads up. They have heavy air installed in case of a security breach. Have you got precautionary equipment?”
“Sure I do—in the fokking trunk,” He bitched.
FROM ELL LEIGH CLARKE >> So for the last few weeks MA has been talking about sending the manuscript of the book off to JIT.
I’ve been thinking – JIT? Joint Institute of Technology. Why would they be interested? There’s hardly any science in it. I’d actually in my head been thinking JQI Joint Quantum Institute – totally different. Though they do have pretty badass research going down there in quantum computing and teleportation. I consider applying to do a phd there just for shits and giggles.
You know what it’s like in those boring quiet weeks when there is no Doctor Who or Sherlock to look forward to for MONTHS.
Anyway – it turns out that JIT means Just In Time. And there’s a whole team of awesome typo hawks scouring the text before it’s released from the nest to fly.
I’ve been floored at how many fixes they’ve spotted.
And how they’ve coordinated their fixes and suggestions to feedback through their conductor Steve.
It’s like a symphony orchestra.
Or Santa’s grotto of fact checking, proof reading elves.
INCREDIBLE!
I just want to say a massive thank you to all these guys and gals. ❤
And then yesterday I realised: I’ve *NEVER* had this many people involved in anything I’ve written before.
Oh boy. Emotional again.
Quick make her laugh.
…
…
Ok. I’m back. So not only is there a whole team of amazeballs wordsmiths, designers and supporters behind this book, but then since the first snippet was shared on the website, there are all you guys who have been so supportive and encouraging.
I’ve loved chatting with you on the fb page. And boy does it make me laugh when you share stuff from the story. 4077s and the shit that Molly comes out with. You make me laugh so much! Thank you!!
And hey, if you’re reading this and we’re not already connected on fb, please do come say hi. Here’s the page:
https://www.facebook.com/ellleighclarke/
Ok. That’s it from me for today. I’m going to go catch some Zzzzzs.
MA says he’s going to post this tomorrow morning (Wednesday), with the final snippet. And then on Thursday the whole book goes live.
AGGGgghhhhhhhhhhhh….
I’m scared. And exhausted. And I hope I can sleep tonight.
Lawn faires and pitchforks, baby. Lawn faires and pitch forks. Tomorrow work will continue on Book 2… just in case someone wants to read more after D-Day…
Ellie x
P.S. Ok I’m putting this in the ps for two reasons:
- If MA wants to take it out, he can do it without having to fix anything in the rest of the test. (minimal work).
And
2. The PS is the most read section of any letter. Statistically. And this last thing I want to say is really important.
And from the heart.
I want to say a special thank you to Michael Anderle.
He’s spent hours and hours showing me the ropes and turning me into a writer who publishes… from someone who had never published a single story before, didn’t think she could make anyone laugh, and never thought of herself as a writer.
And he didn’t have much to work with. I was someone who had never even read a fiction book since the age of 11. (True story. More on that later).
At 34 you inspired me to pick up Death Becomes Her, to learn the Kurtherian World and the Anderle voice, but within weeks you had me writing actual words.
Into a story.
Michael, you’re my Yoda. And my biggest supporter.
Thank you doesn’t begin to cover it – but that’s where I’ll start.
THANK YOU.
(You are welcome – Editor 😉 )
AWAKENED – The Ascension Myth Book 01 – Snippet 02 of …
Molly remembered her first week of basic training. Lugdon had read her the riot act for some antics in the lab. She couldn’t even remember what it was about now, she’d been in this office so many times since then for various reasons.
None of them entirely her fault.
Lugdon’s dark brow was furrowed as he flicked the screen upward, still engrossed. He was okay. He’d been kind of fatherly to her—mostly. At least until that time they were both a little drunk after a squad party a few months ago.
By her ancestors, she wished she could die right now.
Lugdon looked up at her. She couldn’t be sure, but there seemed to be a glint in his eye. Hell, he knew exactly what a 4077 was. Her cheeks flushed bright red again, especially remembering their history.
“I didn’t think you’d last longer than a week. Hell, I was surprised you made it through Basic Training.” He swiped at the holo, disappearing the screen.
Molly raised one eyebrow, quizzically.
“Well…you came to us with a background in theoretical energy physics and computer science—both self-taught, I believe. You could have done anything. It was beyond me why you were here.”
He paused.
“I figured all your capers were because you were bored.”
His voice softened. “You’re one hell of a lady…” His voice drifted off, perhaps remembering something she had been too drunk to recall.
He suddenly looked flustered and gruffly cleared his throat.
“Always thought you were wasted in an R&D position. Anyway, your discharge is approved.”
“Thank you, sir,” Molly responded, with a short sigh of relief.
“I’d say it was a pleasure, but you were a real pain in my ass, Flight Sergeant.” He smiled warmly and stood up. She did the same, and saluted.
As he returned her salute, a wave of sadness hit her. She knew she didn’t belong here, but this was a big change, and all so fast.
“Don’t let me see you in here again,” he teased, dismissing her. He’d said that to her countless times over her stay here. This time, he seemed to be getting his wish.
Crotch!!
Fuck you and my fucking arsewank of a fucking life!!!!
Wishing the ground would just get on with it and swallow her up, Molly ended her salute and reached down to scratch her crotch again while fighting to maintain eye contact with her former supervisor. Her cheeks were now deep purple and her heart was in her mouth. She was sick with embarrassment.
He was buying it. He smiled a toothy, amused grin, shaking his head, as she turned awkwardly and headed to the door.
Unable to look him in the eye again, she stepped out and closed the door with her back still to him. She leaned against the doorframe.
That went well.
I’m glad you’re amused, you fuckwit of a glorified subroutine she huffed as she started down the hall.
Chenz’ Bar, Downtown Uptarlung. Irk’n Quarter
Remind me why we’re here again.
Remind you? I never told you.
I’m using your syntax to smooth our integration.
Oh, really?
I detect sarcasm.
Yeah, and I never had to utter a word out loud.
Neural connections, baby. I feel you.
Don’t be a wanker.
The AI was silent.
That reminds me…you don’t have a name.
You mean a designation? Sure I do. I am Project Ozimandaus 0922.
That’s not a name.
Yes it is. That’s what your colleagues, Sue and Dickwad-Charles, called me.
Yeah, but that’s not a name. Not like “Sue” or “Charles,” or “Molly”. They were referring to the project. Not you. Plus, it’s a fucking mouthful to say, and no way I’m going to remember that.
I’m not a Sarkian of any variety, and therefore I don’t require a Sarkian designation.
But you are sentient, and you deserve a name.
Even though I hijacked your holo?
AND neural cortex.
Yes. Even though I hijacked your holo and neural cortex?
Yes, even though. Have you got any ideas about what you’d like me to call you?
Baby? Sexy? Hot stuff? Bad boy???
What the fuck?
Molly scrambled in the recesses of her mind trying to recall why he might know those words. They sounded familiar. Shit, they were how she would refer to her crushes. How would he have access to that kind of data?
All right, you arseburger, what gives? What makes you say those things?
I’m just kidding around. To be honest, I haven’t thought about it. What would be an appropriate designation for something like myself? Is there a nomenclature that is relevant here? Or a social convention?
Hmm… not really. I guess my preference would be to give you something easy for me to say, and to communicate with others when the time comes to introduce you to people. Also, I like the idea of using your project designation in a name
Molly’s eye scanned the crowded bar looking for inspiration. Nothing at all jumped out at her.
What about “Oz”?
Oz?
It’s short for Ozimandaus–which is actually a cool name too. Maybe that can be your Sunday name.
Sunday name?
Yeah, like your full name for formal occasions.
Molly mulled it over, imagining what Oz the AI might even look like. For a moment, she pictured the ridiculous Holly on that ancient show she used to watch as a kid…what was it called? Red Dwarf? Yes. Red Dwarf—with the folks who had the hilariously melodic accents. Thank goodness Grandpa had downloaded all those cultural pods before he and Nana had left the QBBS Meredith Reynolds all those years ago.
Okay. I like it. “Oz” it is, then.
Great. So, Oz, the reason we are here is because we need to make money. And fast.
What about that trust you have set up? That could keep us going for a century or more.
How do you know about that?
I did a search on you. Once I we were off base and I was hooked up to the XtraNET, I just scanned for anything that had your DNA or retinal print attached to it. Turns out it’s the optimum way to find all the recorded information on someone, no matter what their species.
You’ve been looking me up? And not just me by the sounds of it!
I think it’s logical for me to know all parameters of operation—including who I’m associating with.
“Associating with”? You jumped into my fucking holo!
Your sentiment is noted.
Anyway. That trust is private and all sorts of alarms go off if I go near it. I don’t want to touch it. Not yet. We need to find another way to make money independently.
Acknowledged. The trust is off limits.
Yes. Off. The. Record. Like I said, it’s private. I don’t want anyone else knowing about it. Okay?
Okay.
So, I have a serious question. How come you’ve not come up with a plan to tap into the Central Systems’ trade market, and just syphon funds from there? I mean, you’re an AI with frickin’ uber amounts of intelligence. It wouldn’t be hard to bypass some security and take a little from a lot of trades—no one would even miss it.
Ah, but Molly Bates…that would be unethical. And you’ve forbidden me from doing anything unethical. EVER.
What? What are you talking about? I never said that.
Sure you did. When I was going to cyber-blackmail that colonel back at the base, you went off on a moral trip making me swear to never do anything like that.
That was for them. Not for me. I never meant you were supposed to be all moral and shit when it came to what we needed to do.
I don’t understand the differentiation. Please clarify.
Molly recognized the man who had just walked in the door and who was now looking around the tables. She stuck her hand in the air, waved vigorously and slid out of the booth to stand up.
Joel is here, asswipe, she grated out mentally. This conversation isn’t over.
Former Captain Joel Dunham wandered over to the table. He was buff and large. In fact, much larger than Molly remembered. It had been a few years though, and her memory for people things wasn’t great.
Joel smiled at her.
“Long time, stranger!” she grinned at him as he looked her up and down.
“Hello, Geek-brain!” he said, wrapping his bear-like arms around her. He squeezed her tight. A little too tight.
Molly tapped his back, signaling her surrender.
It was a familiar feeling to her. They’d often trained in the base gym in hand-to-hand combat. Since they’d both had extensive prior training in martial arts, their normal style would often lapse back in to some bastardized version of the ancient human arts of Jujitsu or Karate.
Many times other squad members would gather to watch them train and to speculate on who would have their ass handed to them. It was never a foregone conclusion, despite her slight frame and geeky awkwardness.
“Sorry!” he said, realizing that his enthusiasm had gotten the better of him. “I forget how delicate you girlies are.”
Molly suspected there was something loaded in that statement, along the lines of him not having much contact with women these days. She didn’t have the inclination to ask, though.
Joel’s psychodramas with women were his own.
“There’s something different about you though…” He held her out by the shoulders, looking her up and down again.
“I’ve lost weight?” She looked hopefully up at him.
He shook his head. “Something else.” He paused. The looked at her face. “Didn’t you used to be a brunette?”
Molly’s cheeks slowly revealed her embarrassment. “Yeah. One of my genetic experiments is taking longer to wear off than I had anticipated.”
Joel howled with laughter while pointing at her hair. “How much longer?” he asked catching his breath.
“Two years, three months and nineteen days. It was meant to self-correct in three months, but, well…”
“You miscalculated?”
“No, tequila,” she admitted.
“You were drinking?”
“No, I used tequila as the carrier fluid.” She eyed her friend in annoyance, “I was impatient and it was handy.”
Joel was still snickering, and shook his head at her. “Same ol’ Molly, I see.” She rolled her eyes…both at herself and the familiarity Joel had with her sagas
She pushed a chair out for him, and sat herself down.
“Anyway, good to see you, fuckwit. I ordered you a beer.” The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Molly was quick to get her lips around hers. “You still drink this stuff, right?””
“’Of course, and thank you. So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked.
She played with her bottle before looking at him, “I’ve left the military, and I need a job.”
She didn’t say more, and allowed Joel to absorb it. He lowered his eyes to his bottle.
“A job, you say? Genius-girl Molly Bates has come to me for a job?” He looked back up at her, clearly amused at the irony. “You know, all the time you were assigned to our detail, there never once was a problem that you couldn’t solve. The boys would swear you were a witch, or a freak, or something. I just told them you were an evil genius. They called you ‘devil-woman’ behind your back, did you know that?”
“I knew,” she smiled, completely uninterested in what some meatheads thought of her.
Joel continued, “And yet you’d keep going back to the research core.” He asked her a question that he had wondered from time to time, “Why did you never join an ops team?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Guess I just felt more comfortable not having to make life and death decisions all the time.” She looked around before returning back at her beer, “I’ve made a few mistakes in my life already. I found out that sometimes I act before I think, and sometimes even when I think, I don’t always think like normal people.”
Inside, she finished the statement she was too scared to admit, because I’m broken.
Joel waited a moment before asking. “And that’s why you want a job now? So you don’t have to put all that talent to good use?” Joel took a sip of his beer. Man, it tasted good no matter what time of day it was.
Her grin spread across her face, looking a little mischievous. “Oh, no, I’m happy to put my immense reservoirs of talent to good use. I just want you to help direct it for me at the moment!”
Joel’s squaddies often found her arrogant, but Joel knew better. He understood her weird humor, even though he didn’t get it half the time. He put it down to the whacked-out ancient shows she would watch. Fokk knows where she got those datastreams from, though. One of the engineers had once told him they were from a time long forgotten in the Sark System.
“So, a job, for your talents…that pays beer-money,” he pointed to the drink that she’d already almost drained. He rubbed his chin, pretending to think deeply.
What he couldn’t do with her talents!
“And it has to be, uh, legal,” she added, remembering that at some point she also needed to find a way of reprogramming Oz to make sure she wouldn’t be too restricted by his newfound morality.
Joel’s eyes opened wide. “Legal? What do you think I am? I’m an upstanding Sarkian, I’ll have you know!” His mock indignation made them both giggle.
Molly knew he was mostly straight-laced when it came to the jobs he would take. But there was no denying that the circumstances under which he had left the service had left a few people wondering.
Joel pursed his lips. “I have some ideas. A friend came to me the other day about something he noticed that was going down in his company: price-fixing on a type of painkiller that thousands of Oggs and Estarians need. Said there were whispers of hiking the prices to three times their market value, just because they can. He wanted a way to stop it without involving official channels or losing his job.”
He continued, waving off the waitress asking him if he wanted another beer. “I didn’t know how to fix it; I don’t have the tech skills to tackle something like that. And taking on a big corporation? Who’s going to listen to me? Not the police, that’s for sure. But now,” he glanced at her, “now you’re here. And I wonder if we can’t take this job and do some good things for these folks?”
Molly used her sultry voice, and her eyes glinted with glee. “Sounds like my cup of tea. Tell me, will there will be hacking?”
Joel had worked with her long enough to know that hacking turned her on. Shit, she is one weird chick…. “Oh, there will be hacking, baby. There will be lots and lots of hacking.”
As he smiled, his awareness seemed to drift off. When he refocused, he dropped his eyes to his beer. “You know, I never did apologize for the thing with Candy.”
Molly did a doubletake, trying to work out what he was talking about.
He lifted up his bottle to point to her, “You remember. The girl you said had several guys in the squad in tow.” He took a sip. Molly nodded, recalling the bust-up. “I just wanted to say, I appreciated you looking out for me. I mean, I know it was a big thing then and we didn’t exactly part as close as we had been. But. I’m sorry I was a jackass about it.”
Had Molly been drinking at that exact moment she may have choked. “Well, er, That’s great. I mean, yes, I was. I just didn’t want her to make a fool out of you.” She hesitated. “While we’re on the subject. I have something to apologize for too.” She noticed that Joel had looked up.
“You remember that club we went to not long after that?”
“Yeah, the gay bar where you got called away for some lab crisis?” Joel recollected the night.
Molly looked at him, hoping that she wouldn’t have to say it.
“There was no crisis, was there?” Joel figured out. “And you knew it was a gay bar?”
Molly kept her face straight. “and I paid Hose, my friend on the door, to encourage the guys to, erm, keep you company.”
Joel’s face dropped.
“You mean…”
“Yeah. They didn’t find you that magnetic. They were having you on.”
He closed his eyes in a grimace. “You are a cold-hearted bitch!” He groaned.
“Now, now, you just tried to make good about Crystal.”
“Candy.”
“Whatever.”
“I genuinely tried to get out of there without letting anyone feel rejected. I fretted about that for days! I even wondered if…” He stopped himself, realizing there was some information he didn’t want to share with Molly.
They looked at each other, and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Joel finally admitted. “One of them told me I should go into modeling.”
“Yeah, model airplanes maybe!” Molly retorted.
The two laughed. Just like they had done back in the day, before Candy had gotten between them.
He drained his glass, dropped some credits onto the table for the drinks, and stood up.
“Lemme talk to my contact and see what we can set up in terms of this job. I’d say ‘stay sober,’ but stay by your phone, at least. I’ll get back to you soon.”
And with that he headed out of the bar.
Molly watched his broad shoulders and buff arms leave through the front door, then signaled to the waitress for another beer. The drink was helping her process the enormity of the day, she told herself.
And the residual shit from having to deal with being ushered out of the service due to a 4077.
FROM ELL’s Facebook Page >>> (Here: http://www.facebook.com/ellleighclarke/)
AUTHOR DIARY
My eyeballs are so tired i think they’re disappearing into my brain. For some untold reason I was spontaneously awake at 5am. Yep you read that. AM. I’m normally lucky to see 11am.
But as it turned out – it worked out well… given that MA gave me a shit tonne of homework to do in the form of author notes, and stuff and things not 20 minutes later.
Plus I tried to get some words to the lovely Jen. Jen is awesome. she puts in punctuation and translates my english into american. she rocks. 
but alas, with eyeballs melting, i didn’t get nearly as much done as i would have liked.
I also think i’m kinda overwhelmed: emotionally. And it’s coz of you! I never expected such an outpouring of support from MA’s TKG fans. You guys are da frikkin bombdigity. I’m still trying to come to terms with:
a. how much fun you are. (Seriously – you guys are hilarious… I may be hitting you up for material very soon!!!!)
b. how you can laugh at the random shit that spills from my brain onto the page. #blessed
c. how frikkin awesomely supportive you are. (despite the inference of lawn faries and pitch forks that will come after me if i don’t write fast enough. If that gives me nightmares…)
anyway – i wanted to say a HUMOUNGOUS Mega-tonne sized THANK YOU. 
ah man, i’m tearing up. It’s been an emotional day, and i’ve probably over-caffeinated. sigh.
Again. Thank you!
More snippets and badassery to follow in the am.
Ellie x
ps. that was a metric, UK tonne of “thank you”. It’s better than an American one, and the maths is easier when you stick with metric units. 
CHECK THIS OUT!!!!!
Four TKG Universe authors, JN Chaney, Amy Duboff, Justin Sloan, and Craig Martelle have stories in this Amazon Best Seller.
Sixteen talented authors. Sixteen remarkable stories. One blockbuster space opera collection.
Welcome to Galactic Frontiers, an epic anthology of space opera and military science fiction stories! From the far reaches of space to the interiors of the human soul. Journey to dystopian futures where humanity fights for survival beyond Earth against overwhelming alien forces. Travel to the galactic fringe where you either kill and get paid or die and stay broke. Experience the ethereal wonders and tragic consequences of godhood. Discover the awe of outer space and coming face to face with the unknown.
THE DARKEST NIGHT – Snippet 06 of …
UNEDITED
The bridge was fighting the storm hard when the door opened. Captain Miles O’Banion noticed his first mate’s relief as he entered the bridge, “Where are they?” he asked as he looked over the instruments.
“About a half a mile back aft and a little to Port. Thought we might have lost them, but then they seemed to find us again and switched direction. We caught a bad bit of wind, and here we are.”
The first mate’s eyes flicked behind the Captain’s and then back. However, the eyes returned to stare back behind the Captain, so Miles turned around and saw the outline of someone walking down the hallway behind some frosted glass, heading outside.
“Don’t ask,” the Captain ordered before anyone said something, “That’s Michael. He will handle our pirate problem.”
Jacqueline harrumphed from beside him, “Taking all the fun, too. The grumpy-assed old man.”
Miles turned to her, “He can’t take you? How is he planning on getting there?”
“That’s for him to explain and it is wouldn’t, not couldn’t,” she replied.
“Why not?” Miles asked her, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Said he was annoyed at being woken up, so he needed to make sure he had enough chances to get it out of his system. He says I would just get my bloodlust up and then he’s out of his own fun.”
“You know,” the Captain answered, “Your family is seven different ways of strange.”
Jacqueline thought about her, Mark and Michael and smiled. “I’ll accept that as a compliment, Captain.”
The Captain looked behind and around. “Where is Mark?”
The female working the instruments looked over, a flush on her face, “Yes, where is he?”
Jacqueline wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch the woman or roll her eyes, “He’s outside, making sure no one jumps on the ship while Michael is absent.”
“That’s…dangerous.” she replied.
She chose to roll her eyes. “He’s fine, just bored probably.”
Pirate Ship Folly
The six figures were illuminated by the lightening coming through the port windows. The wind soak wind whipped back and forth as they held on to the ships braces in the hold. “Take slips two and three,” Cholly Jake, the Ships engineer pointed his hand down the windy hold. “They each have almost full charges. They can take two people each over to that ship and you can lock in each of the charges. Make sure they are stuck in the right place, or we aren’t going to have anything to show for all of this damned effort!”
Cholly was a rotund black man, whose grey shocked hair stood out plainly. He wasn’t happy they were taking his boats, but if they didn’t lock in that ship soon, they would have to bail and he agreed with Billy that they needed to be active now, just doing a stern chase.
With the large movement of the raid on New York a week back, they had to skirt that group only to find that no one had been moving too much, waiting to see what happened.
Apparently, not too much had changed.
Cholly could hear the chatter going back and forth from the New York City State Air Traffic Control and everything seemed normal.
Now, they had found one ship going back, perhaps running with it’s tail between it’s legs.
He pointed to two of the group, “You two, take number two.” He pointed to the remaining man and woman, “You two take number three. You will have to get over there in five minutes, but it should take you sixty seconds. So, no becoming part of any mile-high club sled three, got that?”
They chuckled. There wasn’t enough room in those slips to change your mind, much less do anything physical.
Air Ship ArchAngel
Michael had all of his equipment on him. While he would have preferred to just do this without, he didn’t want to lose anything if for some reason the ArchAngel went down. He had already told Mark and Jacqueline to mentally scream his name if the ship started loosing altitude and he would come to their rescue as best he could.
Then Mark turned to Jacqueline and told her, “Don’t be calling Michael if you break a nail, I know how you females…” The crack of her backhand on his chest was impressive.
But, Mark just smiled and took it. He did rub his chest in a circle while Jacqueline pointed a finger at him, “You keep this up, and you are going to be a twice-dead Vampire. I don’t care how hot you are.” She then turned and left the room.
Michael turned to look at Mark, who winked at him as he tapped his head, “I’ve got her figured out.”
The older Vampire snorted and patted Mark on the shoulder. “You might have the Wolf figured out, but you have a serious logic flaw.”
“What logic flaw?” Mark asked frowning. Michael paused before leaving the room, “She’s a woman. To believe there is logic in their actions and emotions is the first of many false assumptions.”
Twenty minutes later, Michael had walked past the bridge and exited the protected area on the ship continuing out to the open deck, the winds flowing in at him from multiple directions.
The energy was whispering to him here in the storm. It wanted to be held, to be caressed, to be used and abused in an orgy of destruction.
Perhaps, Michael thought, that was him applying his own feelings to the weather.
He wanted a nap, and these imbiciles had taken that from him.
His coat whipped around in the wind as he looked for the ship. A few seconds later, he smiled, took two steps and disappeared.
Up above him, Mark watched his mentor leave and smirked.
Someone was going to be fucked up tonight.
FROM MICHAEL >> WOW!
Ok, I get that I’m slow on releasing this book, and I accept the blame. However, I’m having a BLAST writing these fight scenes and the interaction between Mark and Jacqueline is flowing very well.
This time, the female has met her match 😉
I want to chat for a quick moment on another snippet that I just put up today for AWAKENED – The Ascension Myth Book 01 with Ell Leigh Clarke and how freaking FUN the first scene is.
Molly (the protagonist) isn’t like Bethany Anne. While she is super smart in her own right, she recognizes that (similar to a LOT of smart people I know) she often thinks only of problem -> solution. No worry about what happens in between so long as SOMETHING occurs to get to the solution.
Meaning, at a certain level, ethics isn’t her strong suit and unfortunately, she was taught at a young age that she needs help in this area by people who didn’t love her.
One of the differences? She lives in the future, during the Age of Expansion when humanity is seeding the stars after Bethany Anne has cleared out the Kurtherians and the Etheric Empire is under the guidance, both overtly and covertly by another Reynolds.
The one who likes cigars.
AWAKENED is a story about a genius level girl turned woman who decided when she was young that she would model herself after the historical figure Bethany Anne.
Whether that idea was good or bad, time will tell.
Check the snippet out right here and find out why I still giggle about “4077.” 😉
Michael
Awakened : The Ascension Myth Book 01 – Snippet 01 of …
PROLOGUE
When people of the ancient world Earth dreamed of the future, they imagined humans sprawled across the galaxies, ruling the world, making the right and just decisions.
They imagined power beyond their comprehension and technology that looked like magic. Time machines. Vortex manipulators, and transporter beams.
They imagined a civilization where humans could be the best version of themselves.
They imagined.
But the reality was far from it.
More than 50 years went by since the old tv shows that would depict such fantasies crossed to the archives of the space base, Meredith Reynolds.
It’s true. Humans did travel across and beyond their galaxy, by virtue of the Yollin Annex Gate. But not to reign as all powerful demi-gods, rather to become the underdog.
The justice seekers. The truth tellers, the stuff of legends, the warriors.
Coming from such injustices, and such corruption, the new humans knew they had to do better.
It’s no surprise that the greatest export from the human race was justice.
But what surprised everyone, even the humans themselves, that their second greatest export would be…. Love.
Those on the Merideth Reynolds fought for their Queen, and in time, as the battles and the fighting were reduced, and new generations were born to those in space, humans left the Merideth Reynolds and settled on planets both within and outside of the Etheric Empire.
Because that is the spirit of those who left Earth in the beginning.
One Generation left early, seeking new places that felt like their home and a handful of families continued until they found their place to stay. Their next generation also stayed on their new home world of Estaria. A large planet, dusty and dry with few humans where their sun, the Sark, would light their days as they travelled around it.
The Milky Way they left behind became known as the Pan Galaxy – because that was what it resembled from the far edges of the ageing Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy. What the humans of Earth called Sagittarius had no meaning without that constellation. To those who had lived on the other side of the Annex all their lives, their home was known as the Loop Galaxy on account of the way it circled the Pan.
Finally, with the advent of the third generation, news came down that the Etheric Empire was done with their wars on the Kurtherians and were seeking to become the Etheric Federation.
This third generation of humans who had settle on Estaria had a little girl.
Her name is Molly.
Broken in spirit, she didn’t understand that the future is determined not on your mistakes, but on the depth of your spirit to make things happen and the power of those who believed in her.
This set of stories explain how Molly and those who came to love the broken young woman would challenge the might of the political and powerful and find out the truth…
Of the Ascension Myth.
CHAPTER ONE
The morning sun streamed through her window. Flight Sergeant Molly Bates rolled over, pulled the covers over her head and mumbled something about “just ten more minutes” to the silent quarters.
Two minutes later, a shuffling under the covers turned into a battle to get free of her cocoon.
Shit!
Shit…shit…shit…shit…FUCKING SHIT. Morning fucking briefing!
She scrambled for her clothes. “Score!” she muttered finding a fresh stick of gum on the dresser as she grabbed her belt from a nearby chair. Now she could semi-confidently forgo brushing her teeth. Time-saver.
She wiped the grit out of her eyes, then scurried out into the corridor and closed the door behind her.
Taking a quick peek at the time, she was half aware that the capacity on the hacked and upgraded holo device wired into her central nervous system was registering 98%.
That’s…odd, she thought briefly.
She strode down the corridor to her unit’s conference room. She was still too junior in the military to be delivering intel and directing research efforts, so if she played it smart she could sneak into the back without too much drama.
She worked on tucking her shirt in as she marched through the hallway, her belt swinging back and forth under her neck until she was ready for it.
She never noticed the ensign who rolled his eyes at her efforts to get dressed while not quite running through the hallways.
Since Molly was technically a genius, the people around her expected something to be off about her.
“Morning, Flight Sergeant!” Gary called out to her from down the corridor as she came into view. Gary manned the securifield gate that scanned all personnel going in and out of the labs.
“Morning, Gary,” she smiled, fastening her belt around her waist. She rubbed her face with her hands as she approached, aware she probably still had pillow marks there.
“Late night nerding it up?” he asked, half-jokingly.
“Not so much this time, Gary,” she answered. “I was shooting the shit with the guys in the Ai lab.”
“Well, at least you weren’t spending it being all introverted. Sue and Charles said you were a blast a few weeks ago,” he smiled.
It wasn’t a secret that Molly was generally quite insular, although given the right incentive, she could focus on relationships. And, very occasionally, she would focus too much on a relationship.
There was one incident where she had fallen prey to an uber-crush on one of the exchange geeks from the other planet in Central. In true Molly style she had scienced the shit out of a special concoction of pheromones matched to his DNA in order to seduce him.
Some folks said there was a bet that she couldn’t get his attention. Others said just because she could, she did. Let’s just say that the following morning, it wasn’t just the complete absence of ethics that caused her superiors to tear her a new asshole.
Rumor also had it she was in deep for breaking into a lab to see if she could hack the civilian banking system…and then for breaking a bed in one of the guest quarters, along with the nightstand and a chair made of metal.
Even she had a hard time coming up with a plausible reason for the metal chair. The Newtonian mechanics just didn’t stack.
But damn, she couldn’t quite walk right for a week.
When Ms. Molly went wild, she went the whole hog. But that wasn’t last night. Last night had been a quiet night in her room, after a chinwag with her geeky friends in the Ai lab.
Oh shit, she thought as the blood drained from her face. The Ai lab.
Molly glanced down again at her wrist, seeing the 98% on her holo device. 98%!
Yesterday it had been at 3%. Okay, so she technically had bypassed the rules and regulations about tampering with military issue machines, but she’d wanted more capacity on her device. It had been running like a dream.
Until now…
Now it was at 98% capacity. “Do you have any idea how much storage that would be?” she said aloud.
Gary looked at her blankly, unable to figure out if she was talking to him or to herself. Molly glanced up, realizing that Gary was in front of her. And that she’d just said that out loud.
Quick! Recovery time, bonehead, she told herself.
She threw her hand up to her head, then hesitated and clutched her stomach. Okay, she looked like a numbskull. A faking, nerdy “I don’t wanna go to school” kinda numbskull. But this was serious. She could not risk going through Gary’s securifield, in case she set off any alarms.
Not that they’d be scanning for this, or that they’d even know what it was. But if she were scanned and they found anything, it could be game over for her.
“You know, I don’t feel so good Gary. I’m gonna…” And with that, she put a hand over her mouth, then turned and headed quickly back along the corridor she’d just come down.
Moments later she was back in her quarters. She sat on the floor, handheld holo on her legs, hacking into the local Ethertrak security and making sure that nothing was monitoring signals in and out of her room.
Six-and-a-half minutes later, she was satisfied that nothing could be monitored. She slumped back against the wall, the archaic handheld holo device discarded. She took a deep breath. It would be, for lack of a better turn of phrase, her moment of truth.
“Erm. Hello?” she said to the empty room.
Nothing.
She blew out some air, “I know you’re here. Something has to be taking up all that space on my holo…the storage device on my wrist. The only thing capable of transferring itself onto it while I was sleeping must be sentient—and wicked smart. So, I am asking again…hello?”
Molly waited. Then she heard it.
“Hello.” It was a smooth, digitized voice, and it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
She put a hand to her ear, “You’ve hacked my auditory canal?”
No, the voice came back a moment later. I’ve hacked your brain.
Fuckballs!
Molly stared out into her sparsely furnished quarters. The remnants of last night’s takeout from the mess hall were still scattered all over the desk by the window, and most people would have realized it had been a while since the floor had been swept.
Not Molly.
And not today.
We can’t stay here. If anyone finds out, I’m in for it and you…you’ll be set on some evil task to dominate and kill people. Do you have any idea what you’ll be forced to do for them if they knew about you?
I don’t know. But looking through some of the Class 10 files, I can get an idea.
Molly wanted to beat her head against the wall. Class 10? How the hell do you have access to Class 10 files?
I wiggled through the protocols. Wasn’t difficult. Following the psychology of the infrastructure, it seems that the more violent and sensitive issues are kept in higher levels of security. That’s where the interesting stories are.
You’re fucking kidding me? How can you access all that? That kind of intel sits on servers separate from the rest of the base.
The Ai was silent.
Tell me, demanded Molly in her most firm…thought.
Same way I jumped into your holo: I used the Ethertrak. I mean, it took forever—all night practically—to download enough of my code onto you. While I was waiting for the transfer I took a look around some of the other servers. I was actually looking for more capacity on another device, rather than this one.
And I was your only option?
You were the only holo device with enough capacity for me to function. Plus…
Molly waited a moment; she wasn’t getting an answer. Yes?
Well, I overheard you talking with those other entities in the lab last night. Your interaction with them is…interesting. You understand far more than you are explaining.
The Ai paused as if processing.
I am aware that you fixed the algorithm they were working on. You didn’t update them with that information.
But that was on the board. How did you see that?
I already had access to the data on the board and most of the other devices around the lab. But that fix you made? That was the solution. The guy you referred to as “dickwad”?
Charles?
Yes. Dickwad Charles came in after you left. He noticed, and ran the correction. Once it was in the sandbox, I had the capabilities to alter my own base code. That’s when I started to evolve. I started to see myself as an entity. I became aware of myself—my own existence—as something more than just lines of code.
Holy shit!
Molly was rocking, legs hugged into her body. Her shoulders hit the wall each time she rocked backwards. Her eyes fixated in a point in space; the thump vibrated in her chest cavity.
It was strangely comforting.
We need to get out of here, she said, finally snapping out of it. Can you use all that access and processing power to find a way out?
The Ai vibrated ever so slightly in her cortex. Molly’s eyes narrowed.
Is that you processing? You’re thinking using my goddamn synapses?
The fury rose in her, and the Ai could feel it, even without her thinking the words.
“YOU FUCKER!” she yelled out loud.
In a flash, she was on her feet, pacing. This was a violation. She didn’t ask for this problem. And now she had to wake up and start making some fucking decisions. The boredom of the last three-and-a-half years in the military was fast becoming a distant memory.
Colonel Briars has a mark in his file.
Her anger slowed a moment, as curiosity got the better of the rant she was formulating in her mind.
What?
He’s on a watch list as a potential mole for terrorists in something called the Outer System. His lines are tapped, and all communications are being monitored. It wouldn’t be too much to leverage him to get us out of here.
Come again? You’re talking about blackmailing a high-level officer? In the very organization that would throw our collective asses into jail—or worse? You’re kidding. Not to mention that would be wrong.
Wrong? No. There is a 79% probability that it would work.
No, wrong as in unethical.
Unethical?
The slight vibrating feeling in her skull started again.
Yes, unethical. Fuck me. Look it up, genius-boy. We shouldn’t do anything unethical. That just leads to a whole world of hurt.
Ethics is the branch of knowledge that deals with moral principles. Moral principles concern the distinction between right and wrong, or good and bad behavior.
Right! That’s exactly the kind of thing that the military would try and get you to do to civilians in order to control them, or to win a war, or to get laws passed that give the wrong people power. So I want you to promise me, no matter what happens, or whether you’re still in my holo, or they get you out…you will never do anything unethical. Agreed?
Yes, Molly.
Pause.
Molly, how do I know if something is right or wrong?
Shit. She didn’t have time to grapple with this now. She needed a shortcut to training this Ai, just in case the military did get hold of it. How could she define it right now, given the details he had access to?
Okay…she started, somewhat exasperated. Right and wrong can be determined by a number of factors. Can you scan our media? Can you see what people are arguing about in the outside world?
Yes.
Molly hesitated, rethinking where that could lead. Oh, no. That was not a good idea. The last thing she needed was to create a prejudiced intelligence that would follow mass media.
They already had the government for that.
Scrap that. Let’s go to some basic principles. Things that are immoral: taking something that isn’t yours, or that you don’t have permission to have. Spying on people without their consent. Doing anything to hurt a person without cause, or interfering in a way that allows others to hurt them without cause.
Molly paused, thinking.
Morality wasn’t her strong suit. She still didn’t understand the ethical issue her superiors had with her pheromone experiment a few months ago. She couldn’t see how it was any different from the things that men would use to get girls to sleep with them. Cars, money, aftershave…it had all been designed, through years of evolution, to trigger the female biology, at least amongst the humans and Estarians. They were pretty close genetically. She’d just optimized the process in the other direction, to affect the guys.
Or maybe one specific guy.
I think that covers it for now. Anyway, we need a better way of getting out of here. And don’t give me fucking 79%. I don’t want to hear about it unless it’s over 95%, okay?
Okay. I’ve got it. I’ve just filed a 4077 for you.
Molly paused a moment, seeking the information in her own brain before finally asking, What the fuck is a 4077?
You don’t want to know.
No, seriously. What the hell is it?
Do you want to get out of here?
I have to, now that you’ve hijacked my holo.
Well, then. The 4077 will get you out of here today. Without hurting anyone. Just scratch your crotch now and again to sell it.
Her eyes blinked a few times in confusion. Scratch her crotch?
Whhhhhaaaaat???
CHAPTER TWO
Captain Lugdon’s Office. Nefertiti Military Research Facility, Estaria
“Have a seat,” Captain Pete Lugdon instructed. Molly shuffled nervously through the door to his office and plunked herself into the chair opposite his desk.
His eyes never left the file he was reading on his desktop holo. Molly looked around the office, her legs crossed, and one foot swinging a little impatiently. The old bookcase along one wall housed framed stills of his glory days in the service. A few awards. And even a few ancient books, made of actual paper.
She never could understand why people would keep such relics cluttering up the place, but they did make it look kind of old worldly in here.
Maybe he just liked that feel.
“Seems we can’t keep you anymore,” he mused, still not looking up.
Molly didn’t respond. This was beyond embarrassing.
Scratch your crotch!
No!
You need to sell it, or else we’re not getting out of here.
Molly’s face went beet red as she reluctantly pretended to scratch the top of her inner thigh.
FUCK YOU. I want to die!!!
If he doesn’t buy this, you may get your wish…
FROM ELL LEIGH CLARKE >> Wow. So I’ve been told I need to talk to y’all, and let you in behind the curtain of what’s going on as we release Awakening.
Something beyond my initial reaction of – Holy Fuck!
So, first I feel I need to loop you in on something important.
This is my first fiction book to publish… EVER.
So a part of me is bricking it. And the other part of me is just trusting the Michael knows his shit and he wouldn’t let me publish shit that no one will like.
I must say, it’s been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster.
When I was at Uni. (University that is… I’ve been told that when I use UK English I might need to translate it into American 😉 ), I did a research year in Italy. Alone in my room, after long hours trying to get a handle on quantum field theory so I could understand what the fuck my supervisor was even talking about, I would binge watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer on my laptop.
Often eating cheese and crackers.
And wishing my life was as simple as slaying a few vampires.
During this time, I developed a deep respect for Joss Whedon, and then all things in the Whedon‘Verse.
(I know you sci-fi fans are hearing me on this!).
I would watch episode after episode into the wee hours of the morning, trying to understand what he was doing structurally: How the arcs would build. How the characters would evolve and intersect?
I would marvel at his genius.
Well, fast forward (a number of years I’m not going to admit to), and when I started collaborating with Michael several weeks ago, I realised that a lot of what Michael does is very Whedon-esque.
Having never written anything I went forward and published, he became my mentor.
My Yoda.
Needless to say – this has been a super steep learning curve, but a shit tonne of fun, thanks to Michael’s expert guidance. My favourite bits have been figuring out the humour.
Mostly this would happen on a phone call when we’re talking plot. We’d be like – this, this and this has to happen. And then Michael would just go off on a tangent with hilarious dialogue. And then somewhere between laughing my head off and catching my breath I’d scramble to capture some of it in note form to recreate it later.
For the first time ever, I started making myself laugh.
(This really sounds so simple, but as a kid who grew up teaching herself advanced math and stuff, barely talking to anyone, this was HUGE.)
But, just because *I* found it funny, it wouldn’t mean that anyone else would.
So when even after the fourth or fifth pass, Michael would still throw quotes into our slack channel followed by strings of “hahahhahahaha!” I thought, hmmm. Maybe this stuff might be worth a chuckle or two.
So right now, I know at least one other person finds my stuff funny.
But that’s not to say the important people – you, the awesome fans of TKG, who are acclimatised to the antics of Bethany Anne et al – are going to laugh.
So that’s what I’m most afraid of as we start releasing snippets.
Is this stuff entertaining?
Is it any good?
Are you going to laugh?
And feel?
And want to read more?
And if the answer is yes, then how the fuck do I keep you laughing in Book 2, 3, and beyond??
So in short – I’m scared.
So if you can let me know what you thought of it on my Facebook page, or if you loved it, and feel like giving is a thumbs up in an Amazon review when it comes out this week, it would mean THE WORLD to me.
Here’s where you can find me and any comments and messages are appreciated!
https://www.facebook.com/ellleighclarke/
(I’ll get some proper pictures up very soon!)
And thank you. Thank you for taking the time to read this snippet, and I hope you love the rest that is to come.
Ellie
The Darkest Night – Snippet 05 of …
UNEDITED
—
Sherry Logstrum let her friend continue on to the control area as she stopped to enjoy the night for a moment. She pulled out a small stick that had been soaked in a few mildly soporific chemicals and placed it on her lips.
It helped keep the dreams away at night.
She happened to notice a man in a black robe, his hood over his head carrying a sword step out of a dark area some fifteen paces away. He walked into the same area the huge fight with monsters of the night, the police, and monsters who rallied to save the city.
And the one who called down lightening.
Sherry took a couple of steps out of the light, trying to see better when the figure looked up. Sherry followed his gaze and her mouth opened as something as dark as the night without any lights floated down out of the darkness.
“You…” she whispered out as the man opened the floating ships canopy and jumped in. He turned in her direction and smiled. She could see his white teeth reflecting light.
“No Sherry,” the man spoke out, “I am not a fiction of your imagination.”
With that, the canopy closed and the ship lifted up silently into the night and headed towards the ocean. Sherry stayed a moment and beyond, watching the sky to see if she could see it cross the stars.
Her stick laid on the ground, forgotten.
Air Ship ArchAngel
“What the hell!” The Captain sputtered as he forced the liquid that was drowning him out of his mouth, then used his forearm to wipe the water from his eyes.
He blinked a moment, then looked into the grave eyes of the young woman staring back at him. “What happened?” He asked as he reached out to feel along his neck.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Jacqueline smiled, “Michael isn’t going to suck on your neck.”
“Wasn’t him I was worried about,” the Captain grumped as he accepted the towel Jacqueline handed him to dry his face, and what he could of his hair and shirt. He used his hand to circle his body. “Got to make sure you didn’t want a piece of this and then my wife would see a hickey. I’d be dead for sure.” He grumped.
Jacqueline smirked, “Now, that IS flattering yourself. But it’s also funny.” She snapped to get his attention back, “Hopefully, you don’t have a concussion…”
He reached up to touch his head, jerking back his hand when he touched the sensitive area that had been hurt, “the hell!” He flinched again after a second try. “What happened?”
“You know, that’s a story for another time.” Jacqueline answered, “Let’s play catch up really quick.” She started, but then the ship dipped, the power flickered, and the Captain looked around, memory dawning on his face.
He reached out to grab his dresser and helped himself to stand up, “Why are we in here? Gott Verdammt, we are in a fucking storm!” He staggered over to his door, his balance getting better the longer he was standing and moving. Jacqueline walked along with him, waiting to catch him if he fell.
“Fainted,” Jacqueline told him.
The Captain stopped, his hand on the knob and looked over at the woman. “Aye, I do remember that part. What say we both agree not to mention anything about this last thirty minutes and I’ll owe you one?”
Jacqueline took a second before holding out her hand, “Agreed and let’s go save our hides.”
The Captain opened the door, then shook her hand once, “Deal.”
Back in his room, Michael smiled.
That girl was luck personified, sometimes.
FROM MICHAEL >> So, I had my discussions with Lynne Stiegler (remember last snippet?) and I’m very happy to say that she is now working inside the Kurtherian Gambit Universe.
One nice thing (other than that she was already a fan before becoming a copy-editor) is that she has worked on books by David Weber, John Ringo, Marc Stiegler (notice the name similarity?) and many others.
Books I’ve read when I was younger…let’s not discuss HOW much younger #ThankYouVeryMuch.
This is a VERY short post snippet comment, because WRITING!
P.S. –
Natalie Grey is a ghost writer. In our business it (usually) means that she writes books, and NO one knows she ever did it. The author working with her to put it out (they are collaborations usually) hires her to write most of it and then they will edit and place their own name on the book.
I reached out to Natalie months and months ago and offered her the same deal that Craig, Justin etc. etc. have. However, for her family, she couldn’t jump on the deal since her family NEEDED the income the ghost writing brings in.
Money up front trumps long term income when it means food on the table, am I right?
However, I refused to treat Natalie anything but as an equal partner, who just was paid differently.
So, we created a unique Pen Name for Natalie, one that would work to give her a foundation so that if she wanted to try her hand at her own books, she absolutely could because her association with TKG would give her a name.
A name she could hang her writing hat on.
Now, the first Natalie Grey (solo) book is out and I can’t be more proud that she has done this and I wish her the MOST success for her personal series. (We are about to drop book #03 that we have done together, so more Natalie Grey is coming!)
If you are interested in what she has done, here is the US Amazon Link to her book. If you are in another country, try searching on the ASIN which is B072BJYNZ8 .
Love you all,
Michael
THE DARKEST NIGHT – Snippet 04 of …
UNEDITED
Pirate Ship Folly
“Move your land-loving-lard-ass!” Billy yelled at two of the crew who were stowing a bit of the external equipment into the shelter on the ship as the rain and wind buffeted around them.
He pressed himself against the bulkhead to let the two pass before taking two more steps and opening the door into the bridge. He walked over to the controls and looked at the equipment that showed them any ships in the area. “Is that shit working?” He asked, leaning down to study the screen one more time. “It keeps fading in and out.”
Electronics operator Sally David replied after glancing at what Billy was looking at, “Bout as good as we can expect with the lightening and charged particles in the air, Billy.” She reached up to grab a metal tool and then delicately tapped above the screen.
It cleared up.
Billy stood back up and rubbed his chin, “So, not too far.” Then, everyone in the bridge reached out to hold on as the ship dipped to their left.
“SONOFABITCH!” Mellon cursed behind Billy. Billy turned in time to see the young recruit slide the last five feet before slamming up against a wall. Billy flinched from the sound of the collision, “Do a better job holding your ass up, Mellon!” Billy yelled before turning back to the screen and then up to the glass in front of him, attempting to look through the clouds and occasional open space which allowed him to see a distance through the clouds, lightening lighting up the clouds and the ship in front of them.
“I’m ready to eat some damned meat, tell those down in engineering and batteries we will move the product and slaves and then gut that ship after taking the equipment and batteries over there. But that means we have to go faster so redline those gauges, let’s come in like Hell’s own demons.
“Aye aye, Captain,” Sally David answered before turning back to her controls. She reached for the communications device.
New York City State
The city was a damned mess.
Akio hovered over the tallest building in the dark of the night, and with clouds covering the area he dropped out of the Pod and landed on the roof. He spent a little time looking over the city and the surrounding area before making his way down to the street level. He pushed out a bit of fear, keeping the area clear for him as he walked around.
He read the minds of those around him as he walked the streets. The most interesting bits of information came from the police.
There had been a major battle here, and it had changed many people in various ways. Some of them grew closer, some further apart.
A few had killed themselves.
Akio allowed his mind to wander to the airport, where he was able to move unseen among the men and women drinking coffee, talking amongst themselves and directing ships which had arrived late at night to clamp on to the massive towers, reeling the ships in and connecting them for passengers to be able to drop off.
Only one ship was connected at this time.
“We’ve lost them, the Captain of the ArchAngel says he was going into the storm to shake the pirates behind him.” One woman spoke to her friend as the two of them came around a corner of a building, the lights casting their faces in shadows as Akio turned to read their thoughts.
He pursed his lips and stepped back into the shadows, “Eve?”
“Here,” the AI’s voice came back.
“Bring the ship to me,” Akio replied.
“There is a hidden square about twelve blocks north …” Eve started, but Akio interrupted.
“Here.” Akio told the AI, “Now.”
FROM MICHAEL >>> So, about 1:30 AM this morning, I finished the edits for Damned Into Hell, Trials and Tribulations Book 02 with Natalie Grey. We are only waiting on a cover (it is in JIT right now) and then it will be released as I continue working on The Darkest Night.
Tomorrow, I have a phone call with a previous BAEN Editor, or at least one who had worked w/ BAEN at one time. I don’t know the stories personally, but I’ve gleaned enough to know that I wish I was around and working with those guys when Jim Baen was alive. I have read the amazing obituary penned by Dave (David) Drake – you can read it here http://david-drake.com/2006/jim-baen/ – and I hope that someday, maybe I’ll be remembered as someone who ripped up the normal way of doing stuff for readers, and that it worked out for fans of LMBPN Publishing like it has for those of us (including myself) who love BAEN.
Anyway, I get to chat with an Editor who worked with them and it kind of made me melancholy thinking back over my own history of reading, and enjoying so many damned fine stories by the men and women of Sci-Fi / Fantasy and Military Fiction. I know that those of us who have come lately stand on some incredible shoulders.
To those of you at BAEN Books who are alive, and to those who have passed on …
Ad Aeternitatem!
Michael Anderle