Ancient Secrets Revealed in this Snippet for Opus X: Fleet of One Book 1
Opus X: Fleet of One Book 1: Second Contact
They say history repeats itself but in this case that could be the worst thing for humanity.
Opus X: Fleet of One snippet –
1 –
April 5, 2233, Gliese 357, Astarte, Ruin Survey Site Alpha Two-Four
A million years was a long time for something to be buried. Human civilization covered the barest blink of that time. Even the other alien civilizations couldn’t claim such deep roots. That million years was now represented by a dusty, empty hallway.
A normal man might not find that beautiful, but Cyrus Sandoval wasn’t a normal man. His breather unit kept his huge grin hidden from the rest of the team as he moved his hand back and forth, lighting the lined and grooved black walls with his wrist flashlight.
“Keep your eyes and ears open,” Cyrus announced, his excitement making him raise his voice despite it being transmitted to the team over the comm. While staring at the wall, he’d forgotten for a second that he was in a pressure suit. “Manually check your suit integrity every once in a while. Never assume it will auto-seal, and just because this place isn’t covered with snow and ice doesn’t mean it’s not as cold as the surface.”
He didn’t want to insult them, but neither of his two assistants had worked an actual site exploration before. Mistakes happened in dangerous environments. He’d seen that more than once during his xenoarchaeology career.
The dust and frost had smoothed out the floor and walls over the years, including the line decorations, but they hadn’t left any doubt about the artificial nature of their current passage. They were in ruins that hadn’t been touched for eons, yet they looked like someone had forgotten to send in the cleaning bots for a few months.
His heart raced, as it did with all new discoveries. They’d dated the ruin entrance via ice core samples to approximately a million years ago. That didn’t speak to the true age of the facility, but it did guarantee it had been buried around then.
Cyrus would have loved to have challenged his xenoarchaeology and xenobiology knowledge by exploring the structures of one of the living intelligent species. Given that humanity had established the most basic of diplomatic contact with the reptilian Zitarks only a couple of years ago and the other Local Neighborhood races were content for humans to stay in their own territory, he doubted he’d get a chance anytime soon.
It didn’t matter. Cyrus was only in his thirties, meaning he still had a long life ahead before he needed to worry even about rejuvenation treatments. A modern human might not be able to live forever, but they could get to a hundred and twenty-five without much trouble. He was sure he’d live long enough to team up with an alien archaeologist and jointly explore an ancient site.
For today, the age of the ice assured him it wasn’t a lost structure of one of the younger races. The design and material suggested as much. The ruins had to belong to the most ancient of races, the long-dead Navigators.
Even though it had been a hundred and seventy-five years since the first discovery of the extinct race’s ancient artifacts on Mars, humans still knew little about them. Navigator technology had allowed humanity to build the hyperspace transfer points and push out into the galaxy, among other wonders, but no living soul could claim with authority what a Navigator looked or sounded like.
The questions swirled in his mind. What language did they use, if any? Were they so advanced they relied on technological telepathy? More importantly, what had happened to them?
Cyrus theorized that a vast galaxy-spanning catastrophe had wiped out the Navigators, but there wasn’t any evidence of that other than their remaining structures all being dated to roughly the same time. Admittedly, the evidence might have disappeared due to the relentless power of time.
He’d also hoped the tumultuous recent years might lead to the revelation of concealed Navigator-related information. He thought it might have been concealed by the people who’d almost brought down the United Terran Confederation in the Great Betrayal two years prior.
The government had admitted the conspiracy had access to unusual technology and previously unknown artifacts, but there’d been nothing to suggest they had any special insight into history. Maybe after everything settled down, previously hidden truths would emerge that would advance xenoarchaeology.
Cyrus tapped a small silver card attached to the belt of his pressure suit—his Personal Network Interface Unit or PNIU, his primary access point and means of communication both in and out of the ruins. An updated status message popped up on his smart lens, his augmented reality interface with the world.
A whir and a hum sounded behind him. Four tiny orb-shaped drones floated into the area. He wanted every last centimeter of the area recorded by a variety of sensors. A team of two assistants trailed him, their PNIUs also recording.
“Dr. Sandoval,” called Jesan, Cyrus’ most recent hire. “Gravity remains at one-point-one gee.”
The gravity in the ruins was consistent with the rest of the planet other than the colony, where gravity field emitters kept things to the more comfortable Earth norm.
Fatigue had built in his muscles. His pressure suit protected him from the environment, but it didn’t take care of any extra weight. He’d wanted to do a preliminary survey before bringing in heavy equipment that risked damaging the ruins.
Cyrus patted the heavy pack behind him. He wasn’t totally relying on his muscles. The carryaid’s internal mechanisms let a normal man carry more weight without relying on an exoskeleton.
“I’m glad we brought these packs, then.” Cyrus grinned. “Trust me. Are you both doing okay? A little extra gravity will tire you out.”
Jesan glared at him. “I’m not worried about carrying things around. I was hoping it’d be a lower-gravity environment for other reasons. I don’t want this whole trip to be a waste. It’s not insane to think a facility this intact might have working grav field emitters.”
“No team has ever found a Navigator facility with working emitters,” Cyrus noted. “Maybe the aliens have found one, but if they did, they’re not saying. I’m guessing they had to experience their first true gravity field manipulation the same way we did, through a lot of reverse-engineering and experimentation. You’re right. You never know what you might find when you enter a ruin. I don’t think anyone thought those initial artifacts and ruins on Mars would lead to FTL travel.”
Cyrus understood Jesan’s frustration. The junior researcher had joined the team, hoping to explore a theory that the Navigators had evolved in an extremely low-gee environment.
Cyrus was intrigued but doubtful. No researcher had ever run across evidence to suggest that.
The junior researcher’s case was based on indirect data suggesting the extinct race was much larger than humans and the other Local Neighborhood races and that a low-gee environment was the best evolutionary exploration. That was a thin thread on which to hang a new line of research.
Cyrus wasn’t going to complain about a man going off on research tangents. That was how humanity advanced its knowledge.
He moved closer to a wall. A smattering of small indentations appeared in various places, distinct from the grooves and lines. It wasn’t anything he’d seen or read about being associated with Navigator ruins before. The depth of the holes varied, with deeper holes near the centers of the clusters.
“Interesting.” Cyrus leaned forward. “Very interesting.”
“Does it always feel this good?” asked Kella, the other new assistant. She cleared her throat. “I mean, finding new things. This is the third set of Navigator ruins you’ve explored, right, Dr. Sandoval? I never thought I’d be one of the first into a new ruin so early in my career.”
“Yes,” Cyrus replied. “It does always feel this good.” He pulled a small sensor probe off his utility belt and ran over it over a nearby wall. “This is my third field site. I’ve helped analyze artifacts from a lot more sites than that, but I’ve led expeditions for two sites, and when I was finishing my doctorates, I was on the team for my first.”
Something was bothering him about the odd holes. He didn’t want to touch too much at this point in the examination. Part of him felt like he should know what they were.
“Doctorates,” grumbled Jesan under his breath, forgetting to kill his PNIU transmission. “Xenoarchaeology and xenobiology. Overkill.”
“You never know what we might find in a site like this,” Cyrus told him with a laugh. “It doesn’t hurt to have more knowledge when exploring ancient mysteries.”
Jesan stiffened and turned away. He slapped his PNIU to kill his open line.
“No,” Cyrus barked. “Keep your transmission line open. People die when they’re fiddling with their PNIU trying to reestablish comm after damage to their pressure suit. We discussed this during your briefing.”
Things like that could become a habit. Bad habits got people killed in the field.
“Sorry, Dr. Sandoval.”
This was what came with working with rookie graduate students. Cyrus didn’t like working with a new team, but the quick turnaround on the site forced him to call on whomever he could gather together on short notice.
Getting anyone from Earth would have taken over half a year, given their distance from Astarte, so he had to pick people closer to the colony. It was only luck that he’d been so close when a wildlife survey stumbled on the ruins and the local government put out a call for experienced xenoarchaeology researchers.
“I was going to be the team lead on another expedition before this,” Cyrus explained, “but that was being planned right when the Great Betrayal happened.” He let out a rueful chuckle. “It wasn’t so bad at first, but a year afterward, it became a pain in the ass. The government was acting like every ship was full of conspirators.”
The United Terran Confederation, the UTC, had been rocked by a massive wave of terrorism that culminated in a coup attempt in 2231, then a near-galactic war. Government reports revealed that the instigators of the conspiracy were some of the most important people and companies in the UTC. Heroic military and law enforcement action, as well as the efforts of the now-famous pair of Erik Blackwell and Jia Lin in exposing the conspiracy, had saved the UTC, but not without great cost in lives and damage to the economy.
Cyrus suspected there was a lot more behind the adventures of the so-called Obsidian Detective and Lady Justice, but he didn’t care. His interest was in the far past, not recent history. He only cared how things affected his research.
He shook his head. “One of the annoying things was that the companies that were controlled by the conspiracy were some of the biggest contributors to scientific funding. The government is obsessed with spending more on building up the Fleet to beat someone they already defeated. Now, we’ve got a trashed economy and a lot less funding for science for the foreseeable future.” He advanced down the hallway. “Which is why this place is that much more of a miracle.”
“What about traps?” Jesan asked. “They always say there can’t be any traps because of how old the tech is, but how can they be sure?”
“I’ve never run into traps.” Cyrus laughed. “But I’d love to.”
“You want to run into traps?” Jesan gave him a puzzled look.
“Working trap tech could be better examined. I love a good puzzle, and I’d also love to know more about the Navigators. Anything of theirs we find will help with that.” Cyrus took a deep breath. “What if their idea of traps is different from what we can imagine? We know the most basic things about their technology, but we have no insight into their psychology. Some people suggest they purposely left ruins for future races to discover. Does that mean they knew they were going to die off? Why did that happen? There are so many unanswered questions.”
“I can’t believe I’m stuck on this frontier ice cube,” Jesan complained, giving no hint that he was moved by Cyrus’ passion. “I knew I’d need to leave Earth at some point, but this place? Doesn’t it bother you, Dr. Sandoval? Wouldn’t you rather be on Earth? I mean, does it matter who finds the site if everybody studies the artifacts anyway? The UTC claims ownership of everything in the end.”
“Earth’s overrated.” Cyrus paused for a moment to tap more commands into his recording drones and made a mental note to watch Jesan. That was not a proper attitude for a xenoarchaeology student who would spend most of his time on “frontier ice cubes.” “I wasn’t born on Earth. I was born on New Samarkand.”
Jesan grimaced. “No wonder you ran away. That was a shitty place even before everything that happened.”
“I liked growing up on the colony,” Cyrus countered, keeping his tone pleasant. “Things weren’t that bad when I lived there, and things are a lot better now. If you think about it, what happened there was a test run for the Great Betrayal, and if New Samarkand’s crappy because of the insurrection, what does that say about Earth and the moon? Or Alpha Centauri? There have been no major assassination attempts of top-level UTC officials on my home colony.”
Jesan groaned. “Sorry, Dr. Sandoval. I knew you weren’t born on Earth. I just forgot.”
Kella scoffed. “You think they’re going to suddenly find new Navigator ruins on Earth? You picked the wrong field to go into if you wanted to stay home.”
“Just saying.” Jesan moved closer to a wall to inspect it. “The stuff was on Mars all that time. Like I said, it’s about analysis, not who finds it.”
“Being the scientist who finds it is half the fun.” Kella smiled.
“True,” Cyrus agreed, “but why couldn’t we find artifacts on Earth? Despite all our technology, it’s not like we’ve mapped every nook and cranny. Maybe there are Navigator ruins buried under the ice in Antarctica or a remote mountain. Just because everything we found from the Navigators dates to a million years ago doesn’t mean they weren’t active far earlier. It might just be a matter of digging deep enough.” He ran his gloved hand over a wall. “The truth is, there is far more we don’t know about the Navigators than we’ve confirmed. That’s what makes this so much fun.”
An alert popped up. He tapped his PNIU to expand it until the floating words appeared in front of him via his smart lens.
“Unusual vibrations detected,” Cyrus announced. “Everyone be careful.”
“Huh?” Jesan turned toward him. “You’re saying there are traps?”
“Nope, but traps aren’t the only thing dangerous on digs. The geo survey suggested this area was stable right now but noted it wasn’t stable in the past. There are other possibilities.”
Kella gasped. “Smugglers?”
“Yeah, they can be a problem.” Cyrus patted his holstered stun pistol. “That’s why it’s good to have a weapon when you’re far from a colony.”
“Will that be enough?” Jesan asked, sounding annoyed.
“Maybe,” Cyrus replied. He pulled a dark knife from its sheath. “This helps, too.” He flipped the knife in the air before shoving it back into its sheath. “The militia’s keeping an eye on this place, too. That should cut down on smugglers.”
“Is that why you have those scars?” Kella asked quietly. “Smuggler attacks? I mean, you can’t see the scars now given your pressure suit, but it was kind of hard not to notice when we first met. No offense, Dr. Sandoval, but I’ve never seen anyone with scars who wasn’t…well, you know.”
“A criminal?” Cyrus asked.
“Yeah.” Kella sighed. “Why haven’t you received dermal regeneration? I mean, when I first saw you with those scars and the red hair and your size?” She let out a nervous chuckle. “You reminded me of an ancient Viking. You just need the beard.”
“Why didn’t I get rid of the scars?” Cyrus reached up to touch his face, but his helmet blocked the gesture. “Because sometimes it’s good to have a reminder about messing up. That’s the problem with it being so easy to fix people these days, which is why we need to be careful.” He narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t seismic activity. I don’t think we’re alone.”
“It’s probably just overly sensitive instruments,” Jesan suggested. “We verified that no one else had broken through the front when we entered these ruins. If the militia’s got their eyes on this place and it’s not smugglers, who could it be?”
Cyrus entered more commands. The drones spread out and scanned the area for density and thermal differentials.
“That is the problem with a lot of Earthers.” Cyrus clucked his tongue. “You take too many things for granted. You’ve only been out on the frontier for a few months, right, Jesan?”
The young man nodded. “Not counting all the time on the damned ships, yeah. What about it? Am I supposed to fall in love with living under domes?”
Cyrus didn’t answer. He focused on a slight thermal difference in the wall detected by one of the drones.
“Don’t you remember how these ruins were discovered?” he finally asked.
“Odd readings during a local wildlife survey,” Jesan recalled with a snort. “If you can call the trash on this planet wildlife.”
“Most planets don’t have any life,” Kella noted. “Every new non-terrestrial species we find is a big deal. How can you not care about that sort of thing?”
Jesan shrugged. “I’m here for the Navigator biology, not the local wildlife. Sorry.”
Cyrus drew his pistol. “These ruins have been here for a million years, but they’re not impervious to damage.” He pointed at a dark spot on a wall. “Tunnels were dug. Smooth, like they were burned through. I think we’ve got local pests nearby.”
“So what?” Jesan laughed. “You’ve got a gun, and we’ve got drones. Some stupid animal isn’t going to—”
A harsh screech echoed around them. Something long and pale wriggled out of a hole in the roof ahead of them. The eyeless wormlike creature dropped to the ground and twisted toward Jesan, glowing a soft yellow.
“That’s disgusting,” Jesan admitted, “but it doesn’t look dangerous.”
The worm opened its mouth and spat a stream of green acid. Cyrus tackled Jesan to the ground. The acid splattered on the nearby wall, sizzling and creating a shallow hole. One mystery solved.
“What the hell?” Jesan yelled as he scrambled to his feet. “It spits acid? You didn’t tell me that!”
The worm whipped its head back and forth, screeched again, and slithered backward. More alerts from the drones popped up. At this point, Cyrus didn’t need the sensors to warn him. The pressure suit picked up the sounds of bodies slithering their way.
Cyrus drew his stun pistol. “Next time, read the briefing I sent you. These things live in colonies. Here comes the fun part!”
The fun part? I’m glad Cyrus thinks so. Stay tuned because these ancient creatures’ significance will be revealed later this week on February 11th when Opus X Fleet of One Book one: Second Contact is released. If you have been waiting for the next installment of Opus X then head over to Amazon and pre-order it today.
Picture Perfect Week in Review January 30 – February 5, 2022
These new books are just what we needed this week.
Week in Review January 30 – February 5, 2022
Perfect New Books Here: Week in Review
A Torn Veil:
Angelica Morgan knows better than to trust that saving Una was the end of the war against the gods. Temporary peace is just that—temporary.
Ang’s connection to the Morrigan’s past lives gives her a clue as to what horrors are stirring. Cernunnos is conspicuously absent and Ruadan is giving nothing away. However, minor powers are surfacing, and Ang and her team must get ahead of their emergence or face the consequences of the supernatural world revealing itself. Ang must call on a source who is as unwilling as she is to make contact. What she learns throws her into a race against time to gather her allies before everything she’s working to protect is endangered.
New Books Here
Children of the Mortals:
Things are not panning out for the Daughters of the Watchers. Therion, the Son of the Destructions is on the loose, Angelica is missing, and the Daughters’ compound is under the control of the Furies. The Sons of the Lords are causing worldwide chaos, but Diablos is not pleased. It’s not the type of chaos he waned. Therion is forced to up his game, or meet his ultimate doom. A new player emerges, and an ancient relic called the Spear of Destiny has entered the game.
The zealots who call themselves The Star of Nimrod have Angelica in their grasp. With the help of their newfound friends the Tektonites, the Daughters learn of the Daimon Killer’s whereabouts and a possible way to stop the Son of the Destructions. It’s a race against the clock, and time is running out fast.
The Good Shifter:
Talk is cheap, and Maggie isn’t buying. As the owner of Great Lakes Investigations, she’s seen just about everything there is to see. Murder, embezzlement, infidelity; you name it, she’s been there and got the investigative t-shirt.
If there’s anyone Maggie trusts less than the targets of her investigation, it’s the clients who hire her. They always have something to hide. But, then, so does Maggie… She’s not just your average PI. She’s a sorceress. Untangling paranormal cases brought to her by fae, shifters, and vampires is all in a day’s work for Maggie. However, her latest case might end up being her last. Can Maggie solve the case without losing everything? Or will she find out too late that friends can’t always be trusted?
New Books Here
The Fires of Hell:
It’s surprisingly great news when Pain learns that a former nemesis has met an untimely end, and he is not a suspect in her death. The world may be a messed up place but for today life is good right? That is until he learns said nemesis’ ally blames him anyway, and she might be the only thing in this world he is afraid of. Agony gets to say “I told you so.” After all, this is why they can’t have nice things.
New alliances and of course new betrayals are at hand as the tectonics of the black ops world shifts and rumbles. Who is working for who, who is hunting who, and will have the decency to simply shut up and die? Our favorite misfits must avoid being strangled and stabbed (and run over, and shot, and blown up, and, well, you get the point) in this latest cloak and dagger escapade.
Justice is Not Blind:
The pieces are all in place and the first moves have already begun. But what do you do when you find out you don’t even know what game you are playing? The Executioners thought they knew the game. They thought they understood who was on their side. They were wrong.
Allies have become enemies and friendships a liability, but on the forgotten isle, the one who stands alone doesn’t stand for long. it’s time to go underground, back to their roots. They’re done with the games, the shadow play, and the politics. As secret societies merge into monstrous conspiracies, the Executioners are looking for the silver bullet. Because when Justice has become a game, no one on Atlantica is going to win.
New Books Here
Warfare Neutralized:
Dragons were created to protect justice in the world. But that doesn’t mean everyone approves of them. Some fear that which they don’t understand.
When a politician decides his agenda is paramount, he will stop at nothing until he destroys the Dragon Elite. The public is starting to fear dragons. Not only does Sophia have to protect the world, but now she needs to convince mortals that the dragons aren’t dangerous. She must fight a fast brewing political war.
Will the Dragon Elite be able to save their reputation before it’s too late? The world’s fate absolutely depends upon it.
Attack From the Dark:
Daria was not having a good day, even before she found herself locked up. Betrayed by her brothers-in-arms, Daria barely escaped being killed in the fallout. Without a friend in the galaxy, she finds herself dragged away for something those treacherous bastards did. What else could go wrong in one day?
Help is coming, just not the kind Daria was expecting. A dapper gent she’s never met blasting the doors off her cell pulls Daria deeper into the rabbit hole. She must decide whether to fight the charges against her or make a run for her life with her rescuer. As it turns out, this wasn’t what Captain Lombe had in mind, either. Still, any port in a storm. For the down-on-her-luck merc and the gentleman smuggler whose hopes rest on her, the winds are a-blowing.
New Books Here
Picture Perfect New Books Here: Week in Review
For the Love of Books Give Card Giveaway
Six More Weeks of Winter Fan Pricing Saturday February 5, 2022
It’s still winter for six more weeks, and the deals are still amazing!
Fan Pricing Saturday, February 5, 2022
Note: We requested the price changes from Amazon on Friday afternoon. Unfortunately, they don’t change all of the prices at one time. Please double-check the price before clicking “Buy”.
All of these new releases are 99c for one day only!
And they are also available for FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Grab them today before the prices go up!
1962
Burn the World
The Outcast Royal Boxed Set Books 1-3
A Torn Veil
Political Sky
Children of the Mortals
The Good Shifter
Dragon’s Party
New Alliances
The Fires of Hell
For the Love of Books $50 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway.
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PREORDER ALERT: New Releases Coming in February!
It’s that time of the month when we let you know about all the great books coming up in February that are already available for preorders!
Happy Friday folks!
Miss Kelly told me that you all were worried about not receiving this email on Tuesday. Amazon and I were having a conflict (it was very nasty, let me tell you) and I wasn’t able to search Amazon and get all the books and images necessary to be able to share the list of upcoming books.
This time, I can tell you a few books, especially the first books in series, releasing this month aren’t available for preorder but will be soon. And let me tell you, some of these series are seriously phenomenal.
Check all the preorders currently available below and let us know which ones you are looking forward to the most!
Reminder: These may not be the only books on preorder this month, but they are the ones currently available for preorder. Others may be added throughout the month (and looking at the calendar, I’ve got a good bet that there will be a few more).
Books available for preorder:
- Titan’s Judgement releases February 8
- Dire Wolf Stakes releases February 9
- Ethics Rule releases February 10
- Magic Lineage releases February 14
- Wing and Fury releases February 15
- Haven releases February 17
- Rogue Rampage releases February 23
- Scorched Earth releases February 24
- The Extraordinary Fixer releases February 25
- Sins of the Past releases February 27
- A Culling Tide releases February 28
- A FUBAR Kind of Day releases March 1
- 1985 releases March 2
- Cleanse the World releases March 3
Boxed sets available for preorder:
- Magic City Chronicles Complete Series Boxed Set releases February 7
- McFadden and Banks Complete Series Omnibus releases February 14
- Die Again to Save the World Complete Series Boxed Set releases February 21
- Case Files of an Urban Witch Complete Series Boxed Set releases February 28
- The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Complete Series Omnibus releases February 28
Titan’s Judgement
Magic Lineage
Rogue Rampage
Sins of the Past
1985
Dire Wolf Stakes
Wing and Fury
Scorched Earth
A Culling Tide
Cleanse the World
Ethics Rule
Haven
The Extraordinary Fixer
A FUBAR Kind of Day
Boxed sets available for preorder
Magic City Chronicles Complete Series Boxed Set
McFadden and Banks Complete Series Omnibus
Die Again to Save the World Complete Series Boxed Set
Case Files of an Urban Witch Complete Series Boxed Set
The Inscrutable Paris Beaufont Complete Series Omnibus
Happy Groundhogs Day Wild Wednesday February 2, 2022
Six more weeks of winter or not we will always have deals!
Wild Wednesday, February 2, 2022
Each week we bring you a list of books from not only LMBPN authors, but also friends of ours, that are on sale! Here’s a fantastic opportunity to discover some new authors or some exciting books you may not have seen yet.
Most of these books are FREE in Kindle Unlimited, but all are on sale today.
Please remember to double-check the price before you one-click.
The Outcast Royal Boxed Set Books 1-3:
A fell-handed warrior treads a bloody road across the sea from the bloody adventures of Skharr DeathEater
Can Ax-Wed truly leave her people’s crumbling decadence behind her? Or will it haunt her as she wanders a savage world, determined to carve her future one ax stroke at a time?
Pick up this 3-book complete series boxed set to join Ax-Wed on her adventures!
Sword Diplomacy:
What is the difference between ignorance and stupidity? Ignorance can be solved if you live long enough.
Zaena has been sent as an Elven emissary to learn and build a relationship with humanity. She’s only two hundred and fifty years old, so time should be on her side. Except she gets involved in a brutal gang war in the first month of landing on the shores of the West Coast of the United States. San Francisco, to be exact. Zaena quickly learns that her knowledge of humanity is closer to the twentieth than the present day twenty-first century. So much for her teachers’ study of humanity’s television shows. She will survive her ignorance or die trying to build a bridge and save her people.
A Gambler’s Heart:
Fiona is tired of the London society, where status and looks are the most important traits a man is looking for in a woman. Wanting a chance at a new life, away from the pitying stares and loneliness of her life in England, she answers an ad as a mail-order bride in America.
Brooks is a gambling man, who wants revenge against his father’s killer. His plans are complicated when Fiona lands in his lap after a winning hand. He does not have time to be looking after a woman, especially one who should have known better than to come to a strange country on her own. But, somehow, she has become his problem. Will the final wager cost him his heart?
Get This Deal
The Rogue Elf: Twilight Ascension Boxed Set:
War has erupted across the lands and when the elves of Urlas depart for war, Kealin is not allowed to join the other warriors as he expects. His father and mother, and the elven High Council, demand he and his siblings stay behind. There’s something Kealin is not being told.
When a soothsayer foretells the fall of the elves that have gone to war, it’s up to Kealin and his siblings who refuse to stand by and wait. if they’re to save their parents and the lives of their kin they must act. No matter the risk involved.
My Gun is My Passport:
West Point graduate, military vet and former Texas deputy Johann Gunther, co-owner of Remedies Detective Agency in Ft. Worth, Texas is asked by his former commander, President Teddy Roosevelt to join a British Army contingent and search for and find a renegade US Army Colonel Vito Latissimo, who is conspiring with local chieftains and the Russian military to control the Khyber Pass.
Join Gunther as he tracks renegade Indians in Montana, then battles foreign spies in a deadly Atlantic crossing. Ride with him as he fights vicious, bloodthirsty tribesmen and political madmen through the Straits of Gibraltar into India and up the Khyber Pass for a battle at a fortress atop the world.
Get This Deal
City of the Saints:
In the mounting tension all eyes turn west, to the Kingdom of Deseret. The Madman Orson Pratt’s perfection of air-ship technology already has every power scrambling to get Deseret’s Brigham Young into the war as its ally, or sidelined permanently. The stakes only rise with the rumors that Pratt’s newest invention is a working, deadly, phlogiston cannon. Sam Clemens of the United States Army rides into Deseret on his amphibious steam-truck, the Jim Smiley. Racing against him on the land-ferry Liahona comes Captain Richard Burton, explorer, linguist, soldier, and hard-headed man of science. Edgar Allan Poe, a master spy presumed dead for a decade, travels in disguise as an exhibitor of Egyptian antiquities, doing his dirty work for the clandestine confederate leadership with flesh-eating clocksprung scarab beetles and a hypnotic hypocephalus. The rivals fight each other tooth and nail and clash with the Kingdom’s loyal but eccentric defender, the Deseret Marshal Orrin Porter Rockwell.
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Wondrous Week in Review January 23 – 29, 2022
Enjoy the wondrous stories released this week.
Week in Review January 23 – 29, 2022
Wonderful New Books Here: Week in Review
A United Front:
The Culling draws ever nearer—looms really—like a big, fat cloud of doom. With evil brewing, our enemies grow bolder, the warriors of light and dark scramble to be ready for the Winter Solstice, and the Cumhaill fam jam digs in to face the battle of our world’s alignment. No biggie… Team Trouble is on it.
For now, the human populations remain oblivious to the imminent battle to come. If we continue to do our jobs right, it’ll stay that way. What you don’t know won’t hurt you, amirite? Yeah-no.
If evil gains a stronger foothold in our world, it will definitely hurt you.
Get Your New Book Here
Chaos and Gunfire:
Idina Moorfield is a new kind of magical with a dark and twisty lineage. Any other combat engineer in the 82nd Airborne Division would be proud of how far Idina’s come, but the visions and voices in her mind are only getting worse. When it affects her work, Idina gets transferred to a new unit—a unit of misfits with their own problems. But sometimes, what seems like the worst move ever, can turn out to be the beginning of something great. Who says outcasts can’t be heroes?
First, Medina has to come to terms with all her plans going up in smoke while digging deeper than she ever has into the mystery of the Moorfield family secrets. Why is she the only one in her family with these strange new powers? Someone else may also have caught on to her and is keeping watch.
The Good Troll Detective:
Half-troll. Half-human. All badass.
Maine doesn’t like her father. It doesn’t help that he’s a troll. As in a literal, lives-under-a-bridge troll. When her father is killed, Maine returns home to settle his estate and learns that he wasn’t any ordinary troll, but the town hero. Seems trolls can be superheroes, too.
When Maine inherited her father’s Mantle, she got more than a demonically possessed magical cape that reveals one’s weakness. She also inherited several busloads of mythical adversaries. Thanks, Dad! Now that she’s inherited the Mantle, her father’s assassins are coming after her.
Get Your New Book Here
Burn the World:
Lyssa thought the Night Goddess was her ally. After an out-of-this-world international incident, she’s no longer sure. Despite the risks, Lyssa can’t hide on Last Remnant. A series of thefts in Miami might be far more sinister than they first appear, and the Tribunal needs their best asset to investigate. Reputation is a double-edged sword.
Lyssa’s alleged allies are nothing but trouble. A local Sorcerer doesn’t appreciate the arrival of a high-profile outsider taking over his investigation, and government agents are more concerned with CYA than taking down bad guys. A mysterious and ruthless new faction is also interested in the thefts. The developing three-way race to the truth pushes Lyssa to her limit.
Political Sky:
The Dragon Elite are growing. At an alarming rate, no one saw coming. It’s hard for S. Beaufont to imagine that dragons were nearly extinct and now they are hatching rapidly. However, for every good dragon, there is an evil one. That was the way the angels set it up. But can things be changed? Can an evil dragon turn good? And if so, then is it possible a good one can switch too?
As new evils lurk in the world, Sophia works to manage the new population at the Gullington. Never before were there so many possibilities for maintaining justice. But never before has there been so many trying to break the laws in the world. Can the Dragon Elite uphold justice or will they be overrun?
Get Your New Book Here
Dragon’s Party:
Dragons have ruled the world for millennia. Kristen now has her full dragon power. And just in time, because her enemies are gathering. A war for control of the planet is brewing—one that has he potential to destroy dragons and humans alike.
The Mage Assassins are no longer content to hide in the shadows. Their day has come, and they will rise to turn the world into a place without dragons. First, they must deal with the steel dragon by either pulling Kristen into their web or killing her.
Kristen has proven to be a difficult target to eliminate. However, when faced with a choice between humanity’s survival and dragon kind, who will she choose? Blood or family?
Huntress of Men:
After thousands of years of hardship, bloodshed, and tragedy, can the Huntress of Men be allowed a little time out in paradise? How is she to know that the beautiful and rich Brazilian socialite she befriends en route to Ipanema will drastically change the course of her journey? Who would have believed how easily she would become fully immersed in this captivating tropical paradise world?
But is it Narama’s fate to be endlessly ripped from moments of respite? On the white sandy beaches of Rio de Janeiro, how could she have anticipated an intricate kidnapping plot that shakes her to her core? Working against time, can she fight the manipulative, deceiving foe from her past?
Get Your New Book Here
Enjoy New Book Here: Week in Review
Time to turn the page to a new chapter with a $50 Amazon gift card.
Jam-Packed Fan Pricing Saturday January 29, 2022
This weekend is chock-full of deals.
Fan Pricing Saturday, January 28, 2022
Note: We requested the price changes from Amazon on Friday afternoon. Unfortunately, they don’t change all of the prices at one time. Please double-check the price before clicking “Buy”.
All of these new releases are 99c for one day only!
And they are also available for FREE in Kindle Unlimited!
Grab them today before the prices go up!
Alliance
The Exceptional Sofia Beaufont Boxed Set
Chaos and Gunfire
Unfairness Rectified
How to be a Badass 3 Series Boxed Set
The Good Troll Detective
The Phenomenal Faraday
A United Front
Time to turn the page to a new chapter with a $50 Amazon gift card.
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Judgment Day in this Snippet for Dark Angel Merchant Marines Book 1
Dark Angel Merchant Marines Book: Attack From the Dark
Destined to live the rest of her days as a shell of her former self. To make matters worse her sentence was based on crimes that were completely justified. It seems Daria’s fate is sealed.
Dark Angel 01 snippet –
1 –
“Prisoner 4258-Rho-Gamma-32, step forward.”
The order was delivered without even a please, which wasn’t a good sign since the Xi-Trang Authority were notorious for at least being polite in their dealings with the rest of the galaxy. While a little devious and prone to enough backstabbing to ensure that everyone knew the feathery bastards were out for themselves and only themselves, they had a reputation of politeness to uphold. Except maybe prisoners didn’t count.
“You. Move forward.”
“All right, all right, I’m moving,” Daria muttered as the electromagnetic locks on her leg cuffs released and allowed her to walk into the prosecution office. It was still slow progress since the locks would activate if she made any sudden movements that could be regarded as her trying to escape. She’d had six months to perfect the odd, shuffling gait the guards were comfortable with so would hopefully avoid a lockdown.
Oddly, given her tenuous circumstances, what irritated her most was that she had been relegated to the lowly number thirty-two. She had expected at least an impressive few thousand and something—if she had to be stuck in a Xi-Trang Super-Max, the least they could do was issue her with a number that recognized her achievement.
It all had to do with their weird numbering preference. Forty-two was the system, fifty-eight was the planet, and Rho denoted the prison. A Gamma offense earmarked her as a serious criminal. That was all well and good, but they put effort into making sure their prisons remained uncrowded, which meant a finite number of prisoners. Since new inmates effectively replaced old ones, they were simply issued with the same number as their predecessor.
She didn’t want to even begin to imagine the confusion that might result from numerous people having the same prison number.
They reached the end of the hallway, where her shackles brought her to a halt. A handful of scans were performed to check her for any intention to harm, poison, or insult the prosecutorial team before the door in front of her buzzed and allowed her through.
As much as she detested the bastards, she had to concede that in general, the Xi-Trang did treat their prisoners better than most of the other civilizations out there. It was a confining society to live in, but if there was ever the option to be extradited to one of their prisons, it was a damn good deal. It was one of the most humane societies out there, which was a little ironic considering that they were one of the least human races in the galaxy.
Five members of the judicial team were seated behind a solid plate-glass window that separated them safely from where she would stand while they delivered their judgment. They were dressed in the dull gray uniforms she’d become familiar with over the past few months.
Each one was tall with a slender build and clothes tailored to fit neatly. Their facial features were a little elongated as well, reminiscent of the avian species on her home planet, although Daria had learned fast that they didn’t appreciate the comparison. They also didn’t take kindly to any jokes referencing their “long faces,” no matter how hard she tried to explain it to them.
The crest of crystalline feathers on the tops of their heads looked almost like the hair most humans had these days, but they continued to the top of their spines. She knew a little too well that the feathers were incredibly sensitive and touching them was a deep disrespect. Of course, that didn’t matter in a fight and yanking them caused considerable pain since each one was deeply connected to their brain and nervous system.
These were also the source of their psychic abilities, although the Xi-Trang didn’t appreciate anyone calling them psychic. It was merely another sensory organ to them and was probably why they had such an integrated society that showed some kindness—within limits—even to their worst offenders. Being connected to other people like that must induce some kind of empathy. Still, it likely wasn’t a pleasant way to live their lives.
Each one had a different pattern of feathers on their heads, which was the only way she could regularly tell them apart. Since stating as much was considered a faux pas, it was a trick she kept to herself.
The judges scanned their documents before they activated the microphone that connected the two parts of the room.
“The Xi-Trang Authority recognizes the prosecution panel assessing the parole status of Prisoner 4258-Rho-Gamma-32 named Hughes, Day-ria,” stated one of them sonorously.
She cleared her throat gently and immediately drew the attention of the panel.
“Sorry, it’s pronounced Daria. Like…Dah. And then…Ria. Daria.”
Five pairs of eyes studied her through the glass before they looked at their papers and made small corrections where it was needed.
“The prisoner’s preferred pronunciation is noted,” the one seated in the center acknowledged. “Noted nicknames as follows. Lightning Strike. Dollface. That Redheaded B… apologies, please make a note to have all profanities edited out of documentation in the future.”
“The prisoner was accused, indicted, and tried for the crimes of piracy, theft, grand theft, battery, and murder,” the same judge continued. “Note that there were various charges for each crime. The prisoner was found guilty and sentenced to six months in the Premia Super-Maximum Correctional Facility until such time as her parole panel could be assembled.”
With the preliminaries out of the way, she steeled herself for the parole assessment that would follow. What the judges saw now would determine her future and she couldn’t help but feel a little vulnerable, knowing her fate was beyond her ability to decide.
Prison in the long-term was generally only allowed for those prisoners they felt could be rehabilitated by the correctional facilities. Their status was reevaluated every six months to determine the success or failure of the process. Since the parole panels were all able to look into the minds of the prisoners being analyzed, it was probably an effective system.
The evidence of her crimes began to play across the glass between the panel. She wasn’t sure how they’d obtained all the footage but couldn’t deny their accuracy. Still, while she knew none of it would help her cause, she felt a little surge of pride at what she’d accomplished.
“I think we’ve seen enough,” one of the members of the panel interrupted.
“No, no, we were just getting to the good parts.” Daria took a step forward but the electromagnets kicked in before she could take another.
“I see what you mean,” another judge muttered and ran his fingers over his feather crest when the video-her held her pistol to a captain’s head while he was incapacitated by his pants pooled around his ankles. “Good parts. She shows a distinct lack of remorse over her crimes as well as a lack of empathy for her victims.”
“Victims? That bastard regularly hired working girls and beat them. Two had to be hospitalized and one needed brain surgery.”
“Captain Travis Moynahan’s crimes are not being judged by this particular panel,” another member of the panel reminded her. “Now please restrain your movements or the guards will be forced to restrain them for you.”
She paused and glanced at the guards, who already had their fingers on the buttons, ready to lock her down when needed.
“I think we are all in agreement,” the head judge stated to nods from the other four. “The rehabilitation process is not a viable option for Prisoner 4258-Rho-Gamma-32. As such, she will be remanded into the custody of the prison guards until a secondary panel is selected to determine her sentence.”
“I guess I’m not looking at an early release,” Daria muttered and rubbed her arms. The jumpsuit she’d been fitted with was comfortable enough but she preferred to keep at least her arms exposed. She’d tattooed them for a reason and given the coin she’d spent on the process, there was no point in keeping them covered.
“That is a possibility. Unfortunately, you will probably have your mind scrubbed before you are released into society again.” He looked up from his papers and his feathers trembled when he sensed something from her. “Oh, don’t worry. You will be properly furnished with accommodations and training in a field of work you are most suited for once the scrub is complete.”
“Yeah, that’s…not what I was afraid of.”
“Oh.” He shook his head dismissively. “This parole hearing is hereby adjourned.”
Daria wasn’t sure if she had offended him somehow or if they had more hearings to attend to, but he pressed a button that turned the glass between them into a one-way mirror and the guards approached. Touching her directly was not allowed unless there was a medical emergency, but their electric batons more than did the trick if she proved to be a troublesome prisoner.
She wasn’t in the mood to get into any fights, however. There hadn’t been much hope that they would let her remain in the Super-Max until they decided she was rehabilitated, but it had still been the best option. Worse, she now had to accept the fact that her mind would be scrubbed. It was inevitable given what the judge had said.
Daria shuddered involuntarily at the mere thought of it.
The scrub process erased almost everything about who a person was. It was supposedly traumatic and had been known to end in death in a small number of cases. The others that ended badly merely left people as a vegetable and ward of the state.
Most of them, however—about ninety-eight percent from what she heard—merely had most of their memories wiped. Implants with the person’s basic identity—name, date of birth, planet of birth, etc.—were provided, but all the memories and skills were erased and they were given a job and allowed to live their new lives with no memory of who they were before.
People said it was the humane option for serial offenders who would have otherwise faced execution, but in that moment, she honestly preferred the death sentence. Dead was dead but living dead conjured nightmares.
The weight of the inevitable sentence hung over her as she was led to her cell. At least she didn’t have to share it with anyone so she wouldn’t be subjected to nosy questions she wasn’t ready to answer. In the other prisons she’d had the misfortune to be incarcerated in, she’d had to share her sleeping quarters with at least three other people and often more.
“It’s an unsettling feeling, isn’t it?”
Daria looked at the guard who closed her cell door behind her. They removed the manacles around her wrists and then her feet, her neck, and finally, the one around her waist.
“What? Oh, that in the best-case scenario, I have everything about myself erased and spend the rest of my days as a drone, likely working in the resin mines for the good of the Xi-Trang Authority? And let’s not forget the worst-case which leaves me a drooling invalid rotting in one of your psych wards. Yeah, that wasn’t on my fucking mind at all.”
The lights in her cell flashed red.
“Obscenity warning, level one. Eighth warning.”
She rolled her eyes as the lights reverted to the soft green they usually were.
“You’d think death would be the worst-case scenario,” one of the guards commented.
“You’d think wrong,” she answered wryly.
“Well, you chose a life of crime. Punishment had to factor in when you made that decision.”
“Sure. Some choice—either dying here and now or twenty years ago, starving in a gutter on Syvachia. If only I could turn the clock back and remake my life from that point forward.”
The guards chuckled and turned to head out and down the line of cells to their observation room at the far side
Once the cell doors closed and gave her a modicum of privacy, Daria pulled her shirt off and traced her fingers over the dark black and blues of the tattoos on her arms. The first one on her right shoulder had been from her first stint in prison. It was low quality and had been infected for weeks after it had been done.
For some reason, that made the two stick figures flipping each other off more valuable to her. There had been a few offers from the artists who worked on the other tats to have it removed but there was no way she would let a laser touch her two closest friends.
Her musings were interrupted when she heard something like a scuffle coming from the other side of her cell doors. Like the glass windows the parole panel had used, they worked as a one-way mirror when they were closed and allowed her to see what was happening outside her cell even though the people in the hallway couldn’t see in.
While an odd choice in a facility where having inmates under constant surveillance should maybe be the first choice, it did help with the boredom when someone passed. Perhaps their psychic abilities enabled them to render physical sight redundant. Still, she wouldn’t argue the point since in this case, it promised to be more interesting than even she had anticipated her day being. And she desperately needed the boost, all things considered.
A tall man was led down the hall by the guards. It was surprising to see that he didn’t have any manacles and merely walked with nothing to restrain him. They hadn’t even taken his regular clothing away yet, although she knew it was only a matter of time. Places like this were meant to strip away a person’s sense of identity, which meant clothes would always be uniform and as boring as all hell. It was why she’d started tattooing her arms all those years before.
Still, his clothes were a little different than most. He wore an unusual long coat with shiny silver buttons over what she could only assume was some kind of personal body armor. His trousers matched the pinstriped pattern of his coat, and his brightly polished shoes clicked with each step he took down the hallway. With a top hat and a monocle, he would be the spitting image of the jesters in her old card sets.
“You have to understand,” the man said as they marched him toward his cell. “This is all purely a misunderstanding. I’ve already spoken to the magistrate and he’s said I’ve done nothing wrong. You simply need to call him.”
It looked like the guards were tired of his pleading since the morning and afternoon shifts were generally quite talkative. The evening and night guards were always in a foul mood over their lack of sleep. That much she could understand, at least.
“Keed moving.”
“No. If I go in that cell, it’ll be on my permanent record. I’ll need an explanation from a judge every time I file for any kind of permit.”
“Get in your cell!”
“Pleas—”
Does this oddly dressed man have more to offer Daria than just today’s entertainment? Will her mind be scrubbed? Find out soon when Dark Angel Merchant Marines Book 1: Attack From the Dark comes out on February 4th, 2022. Until then head over to Amazon and pre-order it today.
Boxed Sets and More Wild Wednesday January 26, 2022
Who doesn’t love a good boxed set…or three! Get these and so much more at a great price!
Wild Wednesday, January 26, 2022
Each week we bring you a list of books from not only LMBPN authors, but also friends of ours, that are on sale! Here’s a fantastic opportunity to discover some new authors or some exciting books you may not have seen yet.
Most of these books are FREE in Kindle Unlimited, but all are on sale today.
Please remember to double-check the price before you one-click.
How to be a Badass 3 Complete Series Boxed Set:
Virtutis gloria merces: Glory is the reward of valor
Kera didn’t want to go back east and deal with her overbearing Mom. So, when university was done, she stayed behind in Los Angeles. Little did she realize how controlling moms can be from the other side of the country. Feeling a little desperate to make her own way, she buys a few books on business.And one on a lark ‘How to be a Badass Witch.’ That’s when the trouble started.
Join Kera as she grows into her powers and faces challenges as she learns how to become a badass witch, then vigilante and finally detective. And maybe find love along the way.
Get This Deal
The Exceptional Sophia Beaufont Omnibus Book 1-12:
The first dragon rider in over a hundred years has been born. And it’s a girl. Never before has a female been chosen to ride a dragon. Join Sophia as she conquers evil, as the dragon riders should have been doing for centuries with the first 12 books in The Exceptional Sophia Beaufont series!
The Elite, a guild comprised exclusively of dragon riders, is dead according to most. No one has seen a rider in decades. The problems they used to fight overwhelm the world. Dragons are thought to be near extinction. However, the Elite aren’t dead…
Posthuman:
I’m losing myself in the nanoverse… Am I even human anymore?
So many connections… so many people… But where am I?
The enemy is still out there, somewhere in the nanoverse, trying to absorb humanity into his new, digital, world. Whole worlds, after the design of any host who has been assimilated into the nanoverse, constructed from the memories of those who have been integrated. There is an appeal to it all… Do I even want to destroy it, anymore? Have I been fighting on the wrong side of this war from the start.
As a former soldier, suffering from PTSD, Brian Goff is not only a threat to the new system, but his very injury has given him control over the nanobots. Like Neo, in The Matrix, Goff is an unlikely hero whose “technomagic” makes him the the last hope for human liberty, freedom, and justice.
Get This Deal
The Halfblood War:
Tirren, heir to the ruler of Thiery, has raised his half-Elven son in a land that hates and fears the Elves. But his son’s struggle for acceptance is only one source of Tirren’s pain. The other is his unfading desire for Yslaaran, the Elven woman who eighteen years ago captured him in a spell, seduced him, and vanished. She returned only once more—to hand him his infant son.
When a neighboring ruler attacks the land of Thiery, Tirren rides to battle with his half-breed son at his side. Learning of the war, Yslaaran fears the conflict will unravel her long-laid plans for the boy. If she doesn’t interfere, he could die before his time, but if she reveals her hand by meddling, her own people could rise up against the humans they despise—and that will trap the land between two deadly enemies.
Brandon Hall Mysteries Boxed Set:
Brandon Hall is drawn back into his previous life as a private investigator with an explosive first case! Murder at Cluster Springs Raceway –
Virginia Senator Gregory Schilling’s son died in a fiery crash on a racetrack. But was it an accident? Or murder?
Only Brandon Hall can figure this one out. But he’s still recovering from the death of his 2 year old son at the hands of a drunk driver. Will he learn to rely on God to get him through his grief while trying to find justice for a young race car driver?
Get This Deal
Heretic:
Where did the Zenomorphs come from? Tigers, wolves, gorillas, and bears. Four planets at each other’s throats. But they have too much in common for it to be a fluke. Just mentioning the possibility that they descended from the same place gets one labeled as a Heretic.
When Sankar comes into possession of a religious text that hints at where they came from, he seizes the opportunity and makes it his mission to find the Truth. But he needs help from all the races. With a stolen warship and a ragtag band, Sankar sets out to answer the question that is illegal to ask.
Zenophobia. Where fear of the other races started a religion and perpetuated a war.
Mountain Times:
A MOUNTAIN MAN CAN SURVIVE ANYTHING, EVEN A COLD DAY IN HELL… Nathaniel Squire is a giant of a man, and the only one Col. Leander Melton thought could lead his pack of greenhorn would-be trappers into the mountains – and deep in Blackfoot territory. Squire must teach the youths to face the ways of survival, the rage of the Blackfeet, the cunning of a traitor and what it means to be a mountain man.
After having haunting ghosts of the past return, and tiring of leading a large brigade of trappers, giant mountain man Nathaniel Squire heads to the Rockies. Squire and his small group of friends plunge headlong into another war with the Blackfeet – and then, one way or the other, take to the vengeance trail.
Get This Deal
Dissolution:
For anthropology graduate student Sam Delgado, headed to the wilds of Wyoming, this is his last chance to save his graduate career. He and his urban classmates see this as the adventure of a lifetime: They are going to horse-pack in the wilderness to map and test a high-altitude archaeological site.Until a cyber-attack collapses the American banking system, and an already fractured nation descends into anarchy and chaos. All credit frozen, Sam and his archaeological field school is trapped in their high-altitude camp. With return to the East impossible, Sam, the woman he has come to love, and the rest of the students must rely on hard-bitten Wyoming ranchers for their very survival.
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Auspicious Snippet for Great Lakes Investigations Book 1
Great Lakes Investigations Book One: The Good Shifter
Maggie is just trying to get from one moment to the next. She can feel something changing and for her, at this moment, it can only get better… right
Great Lakes Investigation 01 snippet –
1 –
Maggie’s eyes cracked open to see the slimy brown spots on the water-damaged ceiling tile, and she sighed and closed her eyes again. Five more minutes, please…
But she heard Ferrow coming down the hallway. That must have been what had woken her up.
She forced herself upright on the sagging couch. Another spring had broken overnight if the ache in her back was anything to go by.
She was rubbing an especially sore spot when the key turned in the lock and Ferrow came in. “Morning, Maggie.” She hung her coat on the hooks by the door and scuffed her boots on the mat. “Sleep well?”
Maggie opened her mouth to protest, to say she’d just gotten in herself, but realized there wasn’t much point. If nothing else, the fact that her shoes and coat were dry as bones would have given it away, but Ferrow knew her too well anyway. “Not really,” she replied. “This couch isn’t exactly a feather bed.”
“You could go back to your apartment,” Ferrow pointed out, selecting a teabag from the cupboard chock full of them while the water heated. “You have a bed there, I believe.”
Maggie made a vague, noncommittal noise and stretched. A few vertebrae popped in protest. “I was beat last night,” she said. “Even five blocks felt like too far.”
“Mm-hmm.” The naga didn’t sound convinced, and Maggie couldn’t blame her. Ferrow had seen how well Maggie was coping with Matt being gone in the months since it had happened—which was, to put it lightly, not well. “Have you eaten anything?”
“No.” Maggie stood.
“Color me shocked,” Ferrow said. “Go get something from Blake’s. Smelled like the cinnamon buns were coming out of the oven when I walked by.”
“Maybe.” She walked over to the window and pulled the curtains aside, letting in the grayish light of what purported to be eight-thirty AM on a misty March morning. “Might just get coffee.”
Ferrow poured boiling water into her mug, which read, “I’m a Secretary, Not a Magician, But I Understand Your Confusion,” and the scent of peppermint filled the air. “Caffeine’s not a bad idea.” She shuffled papers on her desk one-handed.
“Got a call from a prospective client yesterday. James Shalton. You know him?”
Maggie shook her head.
“Well, neither did I, so I did some digging. Tugged on the grapevine a bit, you know.” No response. Ferrow pursed her lips and went on, “Turns out he’s a vampire.”
“Huh. Vampire. Don’t see many of those.”
Ferrow sipped her tea. Maggie was in a bad way today if she didn’t respond to a new client being a vampire—they weren’t exactly common, and they tended to do their own dirty work. For a vampire to be looking to hire a private investigator… Normally that would’ve had Maggie’s detective senses tingling, and Matt would have—well.
“No, you don’t,” Ferrow agreed. “Which is why, in my humble opinion, it would be wise to take his call.”
“I’ll think about it.” Maggie finally stepped away from the window. “Leave his number on my desk.”
“You can only think about it for so long,” Ferrow pointed out. “We’re already being hounded for the utility bill. It’s just as well they can’t cut us off, or we’d have frozen through February.”
Maggie pulled her heavy woolen peacoat on, turned the collar up, then hunched her shoulders at Ferrow’s words, sighed, and left the office.
It wasn’t quite as bad out as it had looked from the second floor. It was gray and foggy, sure, but that was about the worst of it.
Granted, that didn’t mean the tiny center courtyard all the first-floor shops opened onto was any more appealing than usual, with its heavily weathered benches—at some point in the nineties they’d been yellow, or so she’d heard—and chipped concrete planters where plants went to die.
The people who frequented the courtyard, though, were anything but dreary. Everyone who worked in this building had some form of magic or was related to someone who did, and it made for a lively atmosphere. Maggie sometimes wondered if the frequently misty weather was a side effect of sorts or a facet of the veil.
Weird things happened around magic and magical people. Strange, right? For many, many years—almost as far back as the history books went—the magical and nonmagical had lived apart, separated by barriers both magical and mundane. That way, no one got burned at the stake anymore or got a stake driven through their heart…unnecessarily.
Some magical folks preferred to live among the nonmagical on their own, which was fine. There had always been plenty of magical communities, big and small, and Joseph’s Landing was one of them. The little neighborhood consisted of a few city blocks and included a couple of apartment buildings, such as the one she lived in and the one she worked in, and an elementary school, among other things.
It had been bought up by one of the old, well-established magical families a few decades ago, after a rather unfortunate incident involving a kindergartner’s powers manifesting without warning in the middle of a grocery store. The kid had ended up a pyromancy master. On that day in June 1973, they’d almost become a casualty of their temper tantrum alongside the entirety of the supermarket and the adjoining optometrist’s office.
So now, thanks to the nice little curtain of magic between Joseph’s Landing and the rest of the city, there hadn’t been any more unintentional cases of grade-school arson since the seventies. All the magical families sent their kids to Merlin-Buxton Elementary—not named after the legendary wizard, although he was the school mascot. Between that and the abundance of people “in the know” in the community, any child manifesting powers had plenty of support.
The scent of fresh bread and cinnamon pulled her from her musings, and she realized she was in front of Blake’s. Ferrow was right. The cinnamon buns were still steaming in the display case, and it looked like the stout little baker was setting a dozen fresh poppyseed bagels on a tray.
She was briefly tempted—poppyseed bagels happened to be one of her favorites—but as with most of her feelings these days, it passed quickly, and she opted instead for the persnickety vending machine tucked into an alcove on the square’s west side.
As she fumbled in her coat pocket for enough change to get a bottle of iced coffee, she heard scuffing footsteps behind her. She turned to see one of the kids that lived in the apartments on the upper floors of her building. Helena Chatham was six-and-a-half years old. Her favorite things in the whole world? Unicorns and playing in the dirt.
“Hey, Helena.” She slotted quarters into the machine. “Off to school?”
“Hi, Miss St. Clair.” The little girl hiked her backpack up on her shoulders. “Yeah.” Helena didn’t look up at her, instead keeping her eyes on the ground. Her light brown hair was falling out of its usual braid, and one of her shoes had come untied.
The bottle clunked into the pickup slot and Maggie grabbed it. “You seem down, kiddo. Everything all right?”
Helena shrugged, raincoat rustling. “I dunno, miss.” She kicked a pebble. “It’s my turn for show and tell today. Everybody’s been showing off their new magic, doing tricks and stuff, and I don’t have anything.”
“Aw, that’s too bad.” Maggie crouched to meet Helena’s eyes. “It took a while for my magic to show up, too. I remember wondering why everybody got their magic first. It wasn’t very fun.”
She wasn’t lying—it hadn’t been fun at all. What had made it even worse was that Matt’s had shown up first. She’d been in a snit for months. It had made their seventh birthday party quite an ordeal.
“Nuh-uh,” Helena said. “I’m boring. I don’t wanna be a Normal.” She looked up, and Maggie saw her lower lip was quivering the tiniest bit. She also had a mark of dirt on her chin. If this kid didn’t grow up to be some sort of garden witch, Maggie would eat her hat.
Maggie smiled. “You’re not boring. Your magic’s still growing, that’s all. Don’t worry. I know your mom and dad, and the chances of you not having any magic…well, they’re pretty slim.”
She slipped her hand into the inside pocket of her coat and drew out a little charm shaped like a seven-pointed star. “How about you take this for show and tell?”
She set it on one point in the palm of her hand, where it balanced, swaying back and forth slightly. She flicked it, and it spun, sending off brilliant rays of light in every color of the rainbow. It also gave off a very faint sound of wind chimes.
Helena laughed, mesmerized. “It’s beautiful! What is it?”
“It’s my good-luck charm.” Maggie closed her hand around it and offered it to the little girl. “One of them, anyway. A lightning fairy gave it to me a long time ago.”
Helena grinned and opened her hand, palm up. Maggie deposited the charm into it, and it quickly disappeared into her pocket. “Thank you, Miss St. Clair!” she exclaimed happily. “I’ll bring it right back after school!”
Maggie stood. “Sounds like a plan,” she said. “Now you get on, or you’ll be late.”
“Thank you again!” Helena called as she ran off.
Maggie sighed, her bleak mood returning in full force as she made her way back to the office. It was all well and good to soothe a child’s worries, to tell them that yes, their magical powers would manifest sooner or later.
They’d get their share of the useful mystical skills that “blessed” the magical subset of the population. There weren’t many magic users who didn’t appreciate their abilities, although she could think of a few.
As a matter of fact, she’d been coming down on that end of things herself lately. Her magic had been…unruly as of late. Or maybe a better word was weird or new. In any case, it was unsettling, and she both didn’t like and didn’t know what to do with it.
Everyone knew that new magic didn’t develop in adulthood—what you got when you were a kid was what you got. Which meant she had to be going crazy because while she’d always been perceptive, this was getting a bit absurd.
She could smell the coffee through the sealed glass bottle. She’d heard Ferrow coming that morning before the naga had reached the stairs. Last night, she’d smelled the pizza delivery girl from halfway down the block, and the aroma of double pepperoni and mushroom certainly hadn’t been coming on the utterly nonexistent wind.
She cracked open the bottle of coffee as she reached the second-floor landing. Ferrow was talking to someone, presumably on the phone—which was odd too; they’d specifically soundproofed the office for client confidentiality. Sure enough, she hung up as Maggie opened the door.
“Ah!” Ferrow said with a bright—no, a satisfied smile. “That was James Shalton again. He was quite insistent upon using our services.” The smile turned into a grin. “I let him know that you’d be along presently. Don’t forget your notebook.”
Ferrow tossed Maggie her keys, and Maggie caught them one-handed. “Ferrow,” she started, exasperated, “you can’t accept a client—”
“I can, and I have,” she said firmly. “What are you going to do, fire me?”
Maggie huffed and walked back out the door—only to turn on her heel, stick her keys in her pocket, and snag her notebook off her desk before leaving a second time, letting the door snap shut on Ferrow’s fanged smile.
I can see it now, a foggy chilly day, magical creatures everywhere. Can Maggie handle a tough job right now or is it exactly what she needs to shake off the past? Find out when Great Lakes Investigations Book 1: The Good Shifter comes out on February 1st, 2022. Available for pre-order now.