COVER REVEAL for CHRIS PAVESIC

Coming September 25, 2017 , a LitRPG by Chris Pavesic. For those who may not be familiar with the genre, LitRPG is a subgenre of science fiction and fantasy which describes the hero's adventures within an online computer game. Here is a glimpse of this fascinating new story.

When hydrologists inscribe the consciousness of a human mind onto a single drop of water, a Revelation sweeps the land. The wealthy race to upload their minds into self-contained virtual realities nicknamed Aquariums. In these containers people achieve every hope, dream, and desire. But governments wage war for control of the technology. Terrorist attacks cause massive destruction. The Aquariums fail. Inscribed human minds leech into the water cycle, wreaking havoc.

Street gangs rule the cities in the three years since the fall of civilization. Sixteen-year-old Cami and her younger sister Alby struggle to survive. Every drop of untreated water puts their lives in peril. Caught and imprisoned by soldiers who plan to sell them into slavery, Cami will do anything to escape and rescue her sister. Even if it means leaving the real word for a life in the realms, a new game-like reality created by the hydrologists for the chosen few.

But life in the realms isn’t as simple as it seems. Magic, combat, gear scores, quests, and dungeons are all puzzles to be solved as the sisters navigate their new surroundings. And they encounter more dangerous enemies than any they faced in the real world.

Time to play the game.

PROLOGUE
I was born into a world where silicone still ruled. Where the products of the earth outshone those of the sea. Integrated circuits ran all electronic equipment and scientists strove to make the conducting lines smaller and smaller. Silicon Valley tried, and failed, to make chips fast enough to upload human consciousness.

The Revelation came a few years later from the hydrologists. They designed a system that did not use silicone, but instead worked with water molecules. The hydrologists managed to imprint the consciousness of a human mind on a single drop of water.

The water was to be kept in self-contained, sealed aquariums—pure, undiluted, eternal—where virtual realities were constructed to meet every need and desire. All of human knowledge encoded and stored in literal pools of data and integrated with the drops of human consciousness. It was, the hydrologists claimed, utopia achieved.

The obscenely rich were the hydrologist’s first clients, many taken near the end of their lives. The procedure did not always work, but there were enough successes to spur people’s interest. People suffering from terminal illnesses volunteered to be inscribed, and the hydrologists worked and refined their process. Private companies formed and competition forced price wars. Hundreds of customers grew to thousands, and then to millions. There were landmark court cases arguing whether or not health insurance should cover the cost of the inscription—whether or not this was a medical procedure designed to save lives or a form of physician assisted suicide. The law struggled to decide if life ended when the body was drained to a dry, leathery husk, or if life continued inside those glowing, sealed aquariums.

I was thirteen when the governments seized control of the laboratories, first in the Eastern European countries. Then the labs of Europe and the Middle East were swallowed up. Terrorist attacks soon followed and destroyed most of the civilized world over the next three years. The United States, Canada, and Greece, those bastions of democracy, did not fall until the very end. Of course, by then no one cared whether or not the government or the private companies ran the uploading programs. Many of the aquariums ruptured in the strife and the droplets, imbued with human consciousness, re-entered the water cycle of the planet.

Chris Pavesic is a fantasy author who lives in the Midwestern United States and loves Kona coffee, steampunk, fairy tales, and all types of speculative fiction. Between writing projects, Chris can most often be found reading, gaming, gardening, working on an endless list of DIY household projects, or hanging out with friends.

Learn more about Chris on her website and blog.

Stay connected on Facebook, Twitter, and her Amazon Author Page.

NEW RELEASE for THOMAS OLBERT

This thrilling and inventive space opera takes us to a fascinating and terrifying future where newborn life is won in battle and death. Genetic engineering has removed the male influence and Femes, a sapien race similar to legendary Amazon Warriors, fight each other for supremacy across the galaxy.

Despite being born with the genes of nobility, Kaylenn has dedicated her life to battle. Nothing is more sacred to a Kralite, and when war breaks out she is eager to prove herself as a worthy commander and warrior. Fleets and planets fall before her strength, but when she has no choice but to place her faith in Saaryth, a loathed Kaltaarist captain, or face glorious death herself, she chooses to live. Born to the tribe, Saaryth embodies the unity and self-sacrifice that is the birthright of all Kaltaarists. After years of seeing her people spat upon by their Kralite leaders, Saaryth shows Kaylenn the potential of the many working together in perfect harmony to accomplish a single goal. But the fiery passion of Kaylenn awakens longings within her that she didn’t even know she was capable of having. She doesn’t want to share her. Their union provokes the ire of the governments and corporations controlling the galaxy, but is the only hope to save Kaylenn's homeworld.

The Nexus is always watching... their peoples are the next to be judged.

EXCERPT:
Saaryth handled the controls as the space shuttle cleared the orbiting station and descended toward Keltrys IV. After clearing her flight plan with station control and the flight center on the planet surface, she swung the shuttle skillfully around the ring-shaped superstructure of the gigantic military space wheel.

There, visible on the station’s planetside space dock was the Kalthaar. Battered and charred about the edges, but still the pride of the fleet, Kaylenn thought with a smile. As Saaryth did a close fly-by of the docked ship, Kaylenn looked through the viewport and saw the flitting white specs of the space crews moving about with their thruster packs as they worked on the Kalthaar’s damaged sections.

“I’m told the Kalthaar should be battle ready in about four standard days, Fleet Captain.” Saaryth's voice held no inflection or emotion.

“Yes, so I’ve heard. How do you feel about getting back into the fight, Saaryth?” The planet surface, bright green and blue, rose toward them in the viewport.

Saaryth’s eyes never left the controls. “I do not relish the thought of losing any more of my sisters, Fleet Captain,” she said calmly. “But, as our priestesses teach: If some must be lost on the hunt for the tribe to go on, that is the wisdom of Kaltaari.”

There was a note of sadness hidden under her stoicism. And, just a hint of anger. “You must resent my kind for putting you and your sisters in this position, Saaryth.”

She sighed, glancing up at the planet’s curve now filling the viewport. “Yes. I suppose I do.” Her jaw was a bit clenched. Kaylenn hoped letting Saaryth vent her anger in this neutral setting would help gain her trust. But now, it was Kaylenn’s turn to open up. “It’s a stupid war, I know. The Confederation and our former trading partner, the Vedran Alliance, wasting lives and funds over contested solar systems whose resources don’t begin to justify the cost.”

“The Galaxy, like the daughter of Kral, belongs to the strong,” Saaryth said, reciting the Confederation war slogan, as she raised the shuttle’s heat shields and prepped the ship for atmospheric entry.

“More accurately, the next Council term belongs to those ministers who have a successful military campaign to their credit.”

“You must be resentful as well, if you believe that,” Saaryth said as she switched the ship from nuclear space drive to air-cooled rocket propulsion. The ship trembled and the energy barrier beyond the viewport glowed white hot as the ship dove into the atmosphere.

Kaylenn was at once refreshed and a bit taken aback by Saaryth’s honesty. “I suppose, to some extent. The rules of politics and of war are the same as the Hunt of Kral: only one victor allowed. There’s no way around that. At least in Kralite society. But a good warrior understands the value of allies. The Council does not.” Saaryth remained silent, as though waiting for Kaylenn to say more. She's not going to make this easy. To be more direct meant putting her life in Saaryth’s hands. Well, she had once already, she reminded herself.

“You’ve been honest with me, Saaryth, so I’ll be honest with you. My government has asked me to suppress the role your people played in this battle, and I’ve refused.” Saaryth looked up suddenly, unable to hide her surprise. “That puts me in a very dangerous position. I don’t believe my own crew or officers would assassinate me, even under Fleet Command orders, but I suspect some might be slow to defend me the next time I’m ordered into the line of enemy fire. I have to be certain the same is not true of you and your people.”

Saaryth sighed, dropping the mask of composure and suddenly looking very irritated. “Fleet Captain, may I ask what you sought to accomplish by taking such a foolish risk?”

Kaylenn was completely unprepared for that. “I...I want my people to recognize what your people have to offer us. Saaryth, before this mission, I didn’t believe a Kaltaarist could be a real soldier. I was typical of my people, but I realize now how wrong we’ve been. We’ve allowed a valuable resource to go to waste because of a stupid cultural prejudice. A stigma. If my superiors could just look beyond their stodgy-”

“You are a fool,” Saaryth said coldly, looking directly at Kaylenn with stern eyes.

Kaylenn was stunned, but quickly recovered. “You overestimate your value to me, Lieutenant Commander,” she barked, her anger surfacing. “Perhaps I could secure my position with my superiors by arranging a convenient accident for you.”

“I’ll gladly help you to arrange that accident, if it will secure the future of my people,” Saaryth snapped back, setting the ship on auto-pilot.

Bright pink and violet cloudscapes raced past the viewport, framing Saaryth’s angry, beautiful face. “What are you talking about?” Kaylenn demanded.

“Your superiors are already well aware of what our pilots can do. That’s why we’re here.” Her eyes shifted a bit, as she hesitated. Then she locked eyes with Kaylenn and continued. “Our planning committees have discreetly negotiated with your ministers. We’ve agreed to help them with their war, and in return they have agreed to divert badly needed resources to some of our worlds which have been left to near starvation since this war began. The only condition is that we do not accept credit for any victory we participate in.”

Kaylenn understood. “But you agree to accept the blame for any defeat.”

“Of course. We care nothing about that, only about feeding our clusters and helping our people survive this war. And now you interfere with this reckless act of defiance and ask me to put my own people at risk to protect you! Why have you done this to us? What do you hope to gain?” Her eyes flared with anger.

Kaylenn almost smiled. At least now she knew where she stood. “Saaryth, listen to me,” she said quietly. “My leaders are shortsighted fools, and the trouble with you Kaltaarists is you have too much faith in sapien love. Don’t turn away from me! Listen. The Vedrans have learned the value of training Kaltaarists as soldiers. It’s only a matter of time now before they and every sapien empire begins doing the same. Things are going to change for your people, whether you want them to or not. Whether they change for better or worse depends on you and others like you.”

Saaryth looked at her with a hesitant curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Play the game by the Council’s rules, and your people will become scapegoats for every disaster Helkos suffers in this war. The few crumbs the politicians toss your way won’t help you against the backlash that will follow when this war is over. You think your planets fare poorly now? Just wait. When the next war comes, it will be harder for the Confederation to use your kind as fighters again. But our next enemy won’t have that problem, you see?”

Saaryth looked shocked. Almost like a child.

“Our politicians aren’t like your planners. They think only of themselves, not of the problems their successors will inherit.”

Saaryth glanced about nervously. “How then does your defiance help us?”

“If enough captains like me and enough squadron commanders like you stand together, they can’t keep the truth bottled up. We can build a legend together, Saaryth—you and I!” She felt hot blood racing as she laid a hand on Saaryth’s arm. The dark-eyed feme looked a bit frightened, almost as though confronted with a maniac. Kaylenn calmed herself, withdrew her hand and reined in her ambition. “What I mean is that we can help turn public opinion in your people’s favor. In Kralite society, military success is the first step toward political power. Imagine your councils having a say in how the Confederation is run!”

For an instant Saaryth’s eyes sparkled, then an instant later, darkened with fear. Then they turned away and the cold, defensive calm returned. “No. We want no part of your politics.”

“Isolation is a luxury you can no longer afford! You’ve learned to kill. Now learn to reap the benefits of the kill. As you do on your hunt. As we do on ours.”

Saaryth dropped her head back against the headrest of her flight seat. She closed her eyes, the cloud-veiled red sunlight streaming through the viewport painted her face in a wash of blood. “When I was a young girl in my village, our priestess would scold my classmates and me for hoarding food, or not dividing the workload evenly, or fighting over the attentions of a friend. ‘The moment you let jealousy or selfishness or greed into your heart, you become like Tryl, the Mother of Evil who stabbed her own sister in the back and sold her soul to the demon Kral so she alone could claim the daughter who brought all suffering into the world.’ I never really took any of that seriously. Until now.”

“You’ve come this far,” Kaylenn said, feeling genuine sympathy for Saaryth’s pain. She had never felt sympathy for weakness before, and feeling it now frightened her a little. She had never imagined that kind of struggle could take place inside so capable a warrior as Saaryth. “You know you can’t turn back. You and I need each other.”

Saaryth raised her head and glared at her. “And, that’s why we’re here together?”

“It’s not the only reason,” Kaylenn said, hiding nothing as she gently ran a hand across Saaryth’s face. The other feme’s features softened. “Unless you’re blind, you saw that the moment we met.” Saaryth took her hand in both of hers and kissed it. She stroked Kaylenn’s hand softly against her own cheek and looked into her eyes. “I’ve been honest with you about what I want.”

“Power.”

“Power I would eagerly use to help those I love. Tell me what you want.”

“A better life for my people.”

“And, for yourself?”

Sunlight broke through the clouds and washed in a warm orange glow over Saaryth’s face. “That, you already know.” She smiled, and Kaylenn felt a great warmth passing through her as their fingers interlocked.

Read a FREE sample here.

BUY LINKS:
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Thomas Olbert lives in Cambridge, MA, home of Harvard, M.I.T., liberals and wackos. When not writing science fiction and horror or working, Tom volunteers for candidates and causes he cares about, like the environment and civil rights. Tom’s father Stan Olbert was a fighter in the Polish resistance during WWII and later a professor of physics at M.I.T. Tom’s mother, Norma Olbert has self-published Stan Olbert’s life story: “The Boy from Lwow”, now available in paperback. Tom’s sister Elizabeth Olbert is an accomplished artist and now a teacher of art at the University of Maine.

Olbert's fiction has appeared in a number of anthologies, including “In the Bloodstream” by Eden Royce, “Torched” from Nocturnal Press and “Something Wicked Vol. II” from EKhaya.

Tom has a dark, cosmically-themed science fiction/psycho drama novel entitled “Black Goddess” now available at Mocha Memoirs Press in addition to two dark sci-fi shorts “Hellshift” and “Along Came a Spider” also available from Mocha Memoirs Press. Another of his books is a vampire novelette entitled “Desert Flower,” a tragic tale of love, war and eternal darkness set in the midst of the Afghanistan war, available now from Eternal Press.

Learn more about Thomas

Olbert on his blog Other Dimensions.

Top-Notch Science Fiction

I'm happy to introduce you to Tom Olbert, a gifted science fiction/horror author with a devilish sense of humor. Tom and eleven other wonderful authors came together and created an anthology well worth reading. Visions II: Moons of Saturn is available in paperback and e-book.

Ice mining in space, colonization of extraterrestrial moons, war between interplanetary corporations, and time travelers bent on destruction, with mighty Saturn as the backdrop.

The theme, Moons of Saturn, provided inspiration for the creation of widely divergent tales centered about the mysterious planet and its system.

NASA’s Cassini Missions have captured stunning images of Saturn, its mesmerizing Rings of ice and rock, and its 53 officially named moons. These twelve authors present their visions of the Saturn System’s promise, as rich and diverse as the reality of Saturn, its Rings, and moons.

The second book of the Visions Series, this anthology features: Tom Tinney, W.A. Fix, Thaddeus Howze, Ami Hart, Bonnie Milani, Jeremy Lichtman, S.M. Kraftchak, Timothy Paul, Tom Olbert, Amos Parker, R. E. Jones, and Duane Brewster.

• In the depths of an ice mine on Dione, embattled troopers combat alien amoeba in the frigid tunnels.

• Wry humor combines with eccentricity in a tale of time traveling disaster.

• Enemies team up to complete a mission, in an intense tale of revenge.

• Security teams from opposing corporations, battle for possession of lunar mining operations.

The Visions Series tells of our urge to venture outward and to explore the Universe. Visions: Leaving Earth, describes our first faltering steps to rise from Earth’s surface. Visions II: Moons of Saturn confirms that we have left the Earth and are at home in our solar system. Visions III: Inside the Kuiper Belt proclaims humankind’s domination, from the Sun to the outermost reaches of the Kuiper Belt.

Beyond these volumes, we will explore outside our solar system: Deep Space and the Near Stars, Colonizing the Milky Way, and Understanding the Universe. Our vision is limitless.

BUY LINKS Lillicat Publishers - Smashwords - Amazon

Tom Olbert lives in Cambridge, MA, home of Harvard, M.I.T., liberals and wackos. When not writing science fiction and horror or working, Tom volunteers for candidates and causes he cares about, like the environment and civil rights. Tom’s father Stan Olbert was a fighter in the Polish resistance during WWII and later a professor of physics at M.I.T. Tom’s mother, Norma Olbert has self-published Stan Olbert’s life story: “The Boy from Lwow”, now available in paperback. Tom’s sister Elizabeth Olbert is an accomplished artist and now a teacher of art at the University of Maine.

Olbert's fiction has appeared in a number of anthologies, including “In the Bloodstream” by Eden Royce, “Torched” from Nocturnal Press and “Something Wicked Vol. II” from EKhaya.

Tom has a dark, cosmically-themed science fiction/psycho drama novel entitled “Black Goddess” now available at Mocha Memoirs Press in addition to two dark sci-fi shorts “Hellshift” and “Along Came a Spider” also available from Mocha Memoirs Press. He also has a vampire novelette entitled “Desert Flower,” a tragic tale of love, war and eternal darkness set in the midst of the Afghanistan war, available now from Eternal Press.

Learn more about Tom Olbert on his blog Other Dimensions.

Have You Evolved?

Science Fiction – An Evolving Genre
by Tom Olbert

Speaking as a writer who primarily works in science fiction, I am painfully aware that the genre holds extremely limited appeal for the public. The genre has dropped out of popularity. Most of the general public doesn’t take SF seriously. Kid stuff, they assume.

Maybe it started out that way, but the genre is evolving. The science fiction that has won current popularity in books and their big screen adaptations is the sub-genre we call post-apocalyptic science fiction (PASF). Stories that offer tortured young heroes and heroines struggling to find their purpose in dark, dystopian future worlds run by cold, duplicitous adults. And, if aimed and written properly, science fiction can be an excellent canvass for expressing such social themes and depicting characters who thrive in them, because it has no set limits or boundaries.

The writer creates the world that is needed to illustrate the point and to channel the development of the protagonist. The challenge is in making that world seem relevant to an audience that tends to be skeptical of the genre. To be taken seriously, SF has to escape the stigma of glitz and gadgetry and offer stories that are actually character-centered. The setting must frame and present the character, not just use the character to present itself.

One particularly dark and stinging PASF franchise is the CW’s “100” T.V. series, set in a post-war irradiated wilderness grown over the ruins of Washington D.C. Based on the Alloy books by Kass Morgan. A century after a nuclear war, the last survivors of humanity (or, so they think) live under harsh Draconian rule on an orbiting space colony beset by rapidly dwindling resources. They send a hundred of their incarcerated juvenile delinquents down to the surface to find out if it’s habitable. Turns out it is, but already inhabited, by two other groups of survivors. Warlike, savage tribes who live in the forests, and a technologically advanced but isolated society that’s lived inside a mountain bunker for the past 97 years.

Character development is strong and intense, weaving through dark themes of society-building, tribalism, leadership dynamic, and such timeless moral themes as justice, capital punishment, and war. It’s a raw, gritty look at human nature in its purest form, and it spares us nothing. Its strength is definitely in its lead characters. Most notably Clarke, the teenaged daughter of the space colony’s chief medical officer (a mother who betrayed Clarke’s father to execution at the hands of the regime, justifying it for the greater good.)

Thrust into circumstances beyond her control, Clarke reveals natural leadership ability and swiftly rises to power in her group. She soon has to face wrenching moral decisions that seem to echo the dark days of World War II. When the outwardly civilized, seemingly cordial mountain people start performing horrific Mengele-like experiments on the outsiders, draining their bone marrow in hopes of gaining their immunity to the radiation, Clarke must form an uneasy alliance with the savages to save her people. Clarke learns of an impending missile attack from the mountain through a spy she has on the inside, but decides not to warn her people about it, knowing it would tip off the enemy, robbing her side of the critical advantage. She must live with the guilt of her decision as dozens of her friends die a horrible fiery death while she gets herself to safety. A plot-point obviously alluding to Winston Churchill’s alleged similar decision at Coventry. When Clarke’s ally makes her own deal with the enemy, selling Clarke out to save her own people, Clarke must throw away the rule book to save her friends. She takes hostages and personally executes a prisoner just to make a point. When the enemy leader still won’t release her people, she makes the deliberate decision to commit genocide. Her hand pauses dramatically over the switch only a moment before she presses it, releasing deadly radiation into a bunker full of people, including innocent children and conscientious objectors who tried to help her people. The resulting nightmare scene of pleasant, family oriented cafeteria dining dissolving into excruciating death, bodies blistering from the radiation, women and children dying, conjures shades of Dresden, Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

“I tried to be one of the good guys,” Clarke later tells her mother. “Maybe, there are no good guys, Clarke,” mom replies. It’s not that everyone is out for number one, you understand. They’re all just doing their best to save their own people. Which is, of course worse. The story is a dark mirror of the world in which we live, but the characters have more life than that. We care about them, and they bring the dark lessons to life for us because their pain and conflict and love and hate for each other are potent.

In my SF novella “Black Goddess,” I combined theoretical quantum physics with the dark yearnings of a morally conflicted Gulf War vet who has lost his faith and becomes obsessed with finding the core of darkness at the beginning of time. The story deals with the real-life agony of torture and what it does to the soul, and asks the timeless questions of whether primal evil truly exists, if life is anything but blind chance, and if there is a God. At its core is a simple yearning for love.

Quote:
“Beneath her black head scarf, her dark eyes stabbed through him with a flaming hatred. Then…nothing. Like a black abyss where a soul had been a micro-second before. A strange kind of peace. More than that, a oneness.

That look in her eyes. In his dad’s. It was the same as he’d seen in Lark’s memory…in the eyes of that kid in Uganda who’d held a knife to her throat. But, he hadn’t harmed her. Something had stopped him. When their eyes had met…something in her had pulled him back from the abyss.”

To read more on Black Goddess please click a vendor's name
Mocha Memoirs Press - Amazon

Tom Olbert lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts; cradle of the American Revolution, and home of University egg heads and kooky liberals. He loves it there. His work has most recently appeared in Musa Publishing. Previously in Mocha Memoirs Press, Eternal Press, and such anthologies as Ruthless, Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous, Something Wicked Vol II, In the Bloodstream, and Torched.

When he’s not working or writing sci-fi or horror, Tom volunteers for causes he cares about. He comes from a most interesting family; his mother, Norma Olbert is currently self-publishing a biography of the life of Tom’s dad Stan Olbert, a retired MIT physicist and veteran of the Polish underground during WWII. Tom’s sister Elizabeth Olbert is an artist, art teacher, and avid lover of horses.

Learn more about Tom Olbert on his blog Other Dimensions.

INTRODUCING TOM OLBERT

Tom Olbert is an outstanding science fiction author with many books to his credit. Tom's latest release is Long Haul. I hope you enjoy the snippet below as much as I did his short story.

This trucker's haul takes him to the end of time and space, and beyond...

In the near future, physicists have stumbled on a way to open rifts into other universes, making it possible to transport goods and people anywhere in the world in nothing flat. The unscrupulous corporation that owns the new technology uses it to monopolize shipping worldwide

Thrill-seeking, death-defying truckers like veteran army driver Garth Jenkins and his gun-toting trucking partner Sally Drake earn hazardous duty pay by hauling rigs through perilous alien universes often infested with deadly alien monsters and many other dangers besides.

Garth and Sally accept a shady corporate contract to deliver some unknown cargo to an alien universe, no questions asked. It looks like an easy way to score big money. But, things go south fast when their truck is hijacked by the beautiful and mysterious Keira Takahashi, and they find themselves pursued by hideous alien parasites in undead human bodies.

On the run and in danger, Garth and Sally find themselves on a crooked cosmic road leading to bizarre other worlds and exotic time periods. They have one chance to unravel the company's twisted plot and save themselves. Whether they succeed or fail may decide the fate of a universe...

EXCERPT:
Three suns burned brightly in the sky, the Earth was breaking apart, and giant moths were attacking us. For most guys, that would describe a bad dream after a bender, but when you’re trucking a load on the long haul, that’s business as usual.

A big mama moth was comin’ straight at me, and she looked pretty damn pissed. Wing spread of about fifteen feet, jaws bigger than my head. Yeah, that’s how big they grow in the crazy gravity in this parallel ’verse.

I squeezed the trigger of my flamethrower. A long, twisting stream of fire snaked out and nailed that sucker right between its foot-wide sparklin’ silver eyes. The shrieking noise those mothers make when they burst into flames cuts to the marrow and curdles the blood. Kinda like my ex-wife when I’m late with a payment.

It was still coming straight for me. I felt the fire on my face as it swooped in. Those things go up like freakin’ gas balloons, y’know. As it passed over, I held onto the rearview side mirror, crouched down on the running board, and nudged that big flaming bug with the muzzle of the flamethrower. It passed on over, stinking, singed pieces of it falling onto my hair and coveralls.

“Damn!” I yelled at the top of my lungs as the truck hit the guard rail, sparks flying, metal screeching. My feet slipped off the running board, and the rearview started coming loose in my hand. I looked down. My feet dangled over a damn long drop into a kind of island floating in mid-air, a jungle landscape splitting apart, volcanoes erupting and lava bubbling up.

There was nothing but sky all around, filled with other floating islands, and swarms of those moth things were taking off from them. Behind that, the moon filled half the sky. It looked close enough to touch. I held on for dear life as the rubber screeched over the tar. My trucking partner, Sally Drake, was spinning that wheel blind, trying to keep the damn rig on the highway. A highway that was built in mid-air, stretching out from one floating island to the next. Don’t ask me how. Our road crews just paved over old highways that were already there. Built by aliens from another ’verse, maybe. Or by humans from our future. I just drive. I don’t ask questions.

To read more on Long Haul or Tom's other books please click a vendor.
Musa Publishing - Amazon

Tom Olbert lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts; cradle of the American Revolution, and home of University egg heads and kooky liberals. He loves it there. His work has most recently appeared in Musa Publishing. Previously in Mocha Memoirs Press, Eternal Press, and such anthologies as Ruthless, Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous, Something Wicked Vol II, In the Bloodstream, and Torched.

When he’s not working or writing sci-fi or horror, Tom volunteers for causes he cares about. He comes from a most interesting family; his mother, Norma Olbert is currently self-publishing a biography of the life of Tom’s dad Stan Olbert, a retired MIT physicist and veteran of the Polish underground during WWII. Tom’s sister Elizabeth Olbert is an artist, art teacher, and avid lover of horses.

Learn more about Tom Olbert on his

EPIC WINNERS ANNOUNCED

How's this for a wondrous emblem to post on an author's website?



That's just what my writing partner, the brilliant and versatile Robert Appleton, is now able to do. His based on true events book, Sunset on Ramree, is the first place winner in the Historical Fiction category for the 2011 EPPIE Awards. Congratulations, Rob!!

SUNSET ON RAMREE
Robert Appleton
ISBN: 9781926704180 eBook
ISBN: 9781926704272 Print
Eternal Press



Publisher BUY LINK
Amazon Kindle BUY LINK

BLURB:
It is the deadliest crocodile attack ever recorded. On February 19th, 1945, one thousand Japanese soldiers retreated into the fetid mangrove swamps of Ramree Island hoping to escape their British enemy. However they soon discovered that the sixteen kilometre stretch of marshland that promised to offer safe cover, had delivered them straight into the jaws of hell.

Inspired by true events during WWII, Sunset on Ramree follows young musician-turned-soldier Shigeatsu Nakadai and his best friend, Kodi, as they head ever deeper into danger.

EXCERPT:
Lance-Corporal Hokuto Mayazuki has always been one of the luckiest soldiers in the Japanese Imperial Army. The scars of no less than six shrapnel cuts and bullet wounds tattoo the left side of his neck, all the way from ear to shoulder. So many miraculous escapes over a three-year tour of duty in the Pacific. Yet he will be among the first to die this evening--according to the medical officer--though not from any wound.

Today is February 19th, 1945, and he is succumbing to a strange, horrid fever. If one so tough can fall easily, I tell myself, what chance have any of us, retreating into these deadly marshlands of Ramree Island?

It is 16:45 and the British forces have outflanked us. Word spreads throughout our battalion that there is no escape. The mangrove swamp--a thick, stifling, fetid place of only damp reprieve--suddenly provides our only protection. And it is here, in the coming hours, that from the jaws of our defeat, Nature will try to snatch us for Herself. There are a hundred unseen ways for a man to die. We can never give in and time must therefore be the grind of the blade, that by our own hand we draw death--an honourable death. What end waits for me, I wonder? My name is Shigeatsu Nakadai. I do not want this sunset to be my last.

The water I pour onto my neck to drown a dozen large ants is drinking water. I curse the decision. From here on, saltwater is all we'll find. When my canteen runs dry, I'll start to die of thirst. The thought occurs to me to pilfer some of Mayazuki's--he's almost dead anyway--but the reasoning proves double-edged. What if he contracted his disease from that water? Is it worth the risk? Thirst or fever: in prolonging life by one means, might I not simply protract death by another? I decide to leave him his flask and take his can opener instead.

We've been rushing for hours. Our battery stronghold is now miles to our rear. Colonel Ojihoru is a determined man, but determined to do what? If we are not permitted to surrender, and there is no way through the British lines, what is his hurry? Suicide now or suicide later, it seems academic. Stoicism is my only refuge. It's as much a performance as those I give each night in my dreams--in the orchestra of Chadwick Hall in Canberra, where I play the clarinet--except this performance is to myself. Of all the ways to leave this swamp, suicide is the most impossible, at least to me. I'm quite sure that when the time comes to die with honour, I'll cry in front of the whole regiment. Will I be the only one?

Colonel Ojihoru never hesitates. Though he's knee-deep in swamp water, his feet remain on firm ground. That is his constitution. Lieutenants Katsumoto and Tanaka both salute as he points them, respectively, to the northeast and southeast corners of our retreat. As far as I can tell, we're trekking east. I catch up to Katsumoto as he clambers over a fallen tree in the water. He is my friend. Ever since he learned of my civilian profession, he's expressed a desire to hear me play the clarinet. I have surmised he is a well-educated, cultured man, both by his eloquence and his even-handed approach to leadership. Unlike Ojihoru, Katsumoto is liked as well as respected by the men.

"Sir, is it true we're surrounded on all sides?" I ask.

"Hmm ... would you like the long version, Nakadai, or the short?"

"The easiest to swallow, sir."

"Very well," he replies matter-of-factly. "There are British troops to our rear, and we think a British-Indian contingent may have landed to the east. Reaching General Ushui now seems unlikely. All we have right now is this swamp, and no intention of surrendering. Keep your wits about you, Nakadai; this place can kill a man on a whim when he isn't in the middle of a war. My advice is to pick someone you trust, stay close, and watch out for one another. Oh, and steer clear of the deeper water."

"I will, sir. Thank you."

With that, he pats me on the shoulder and wades out into the swamp. I think about reminding him of his own advice--to stay away from deep water--but he has no alternative. There is no way round. A dozen or so mosquitoes emerge from a nearby bush. They plague Katsumoto until he disappears from view. I see endless greens and browns suffocating our route, and no sign of life save one or two of our number creeping nervously through the water. Their eyes hardly look up. What's lurking beneath the surface? I hurry back to dry land, back to my friends on whom I count to keep me safe.

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Learn more about Robert Appleton and his intriguing books on his website or swing by his blog. Rob’s also on Facebook and Twitter.

I'll be back tomorrow with a new Tuesday Teaser. Until then...

Happy Reading!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

OUTLAWS and BAD BOYS - YES!

And no one writes them better than my good friend, Canadian author Jan Springer. Today, we feature her futuristic story, Jude Outlaw, that's a guaranteed thigh-clencher. I lovingly dubbed Jan the Queen of Hot. After you read one of her books, you'll agree. :)

JUDE OUTLAW
Outlaw Lovers 1
Jan Springer
ISBN: 9781843609377
Ellora's Cave



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BLURB:
A fast-acting virus has been unleashed, killing a vast majority of the world's female population and forcing the creation of a new law…The Claiming Law. With the stroke of a pen, males now have all the rights and females are property…sexual property that can only be claimed by groups of men.

When Cate Callahan learns Jude Outlaw is coming home from the Terrorist Wars and is ready to claim her under the new law—with the help of his four remaining brothers—she steals their boat and escapes to the high seas. Unfortunately, her runaway bid for freedom doesn't last for long.
Quickly capturing his lover, Jude rekindles the flames between them preparing her body and seducing her mind into the prospect of experiencing the ultimate in a woman's pleasure…the Outlaw brothers.

EXCERPT:
Jude awoke to the dull throbbing of odd aches and pains in his arms and legs and also to an unusual tickling sensation prodding the feverish head of his cock.

He grit his teeth to the killing pleasure and opened his eyes to find himself lying totally naked on the bed with Cate seated cross legged between his own widespread legs.

She wore nothing but the cutest little smile.

The she-devil!

Obviously, she’d been having her way with his cock while he’d slept. His arms and legs were tied to the bedposts and his erection was in full swing. Thick and hot, his shaft stuck up like a solid pole from between his legs.

His entire body tensed as she fanned a plume across the rounded head of his pulsing penis.

“Glad you could join me for the festivities,” she purred.

Jude swore softly. The tables had turned and now he was at her mercy.
“What are you up to, Cate?”

Stupid question. He knew what she was up to.

Revenge.

“I could tell you but I’ll show you instead.”

Her eyes smiled as the feather tenderly crisscrossed the powerful weave of veins in his throbbing cock.

Jude’s shaft twitched quite pleasantly and he smothered the need to groan.

When she reached the thick base, she slid the plume lower brushing it to and fro across his bulging sack. Lust shot through his heavy balls, spreading upward and spiking his erection with such sweet pain he couldn’t stop the groan from escaping his lips.

“You appear to be in distress,” she whispered.

“Perhaps you should come to my rescue, Cate.”

“Perhaps you should come…”

Shit!

She dropped the feather. Her lips tilted upward into a delicious smile. His body burned as he looked at her mouth. It made him think wild thoughts. Made him want her lips wrapped tightly around his cock, her hot little tongue licking his balls.

He wanted to be loose, to ask her do these things to him.

“Cate, I want…“

Her hand felt soft and warm as she clamped it over his mouth silencing any requests. He noticed the soft dusting of freckles across her nose, noticed the seductive way her green eyes sparkled as she gazed down at him. His chest constricted at her natural beauty.

“Shh, I’ve had five years to think of things I want to do to you too, Jude.”
Her soft words made his body hum.

Holding her hand tightly over his mouth, she reached out with the other hand and cupped his testicles. Despite his best efforts to keep himself under control, his body tightened with tormenting need.

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He was supposed to be the one in control. The one who would make her beg him to fuck her and not the other way around…

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Learn more about Jan Springer and her sizzling books on her website. You can catch up with her on Facebook. Be sure to join her newsletter for more information on this talented author.

I'll be back Friday with a new release from Marie Treanor. Until then...

Happy Reading!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com

STEAMPUNK - IT'S ALL THE RAGE

British author Robert Appleton is a creative genius. His critically acclaimed books range from erotica to science fiction. Never one to stymie himself, Rob tackled the new Steampunk genre and produced a well-plotted mystery that keeps the reader guessing.

THE MYSTERIOUS LADY LAW
Robert Appleton
ISBN: 9781426891151
Carina Press



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BLURB:
In a time of grand airships and steam-powered cars, the death of a penniless young maid will hardly make the front page. But part-time airship waitress and music hall dancer Julia Bairstow is shattered by her sister's murder. When Lady Law, the most notorious private detective in Britain, offers to investigate the case pro bono, Julia jumps at the chance—even against the advice of Constable Al Grant, who takes her protection surprisingly to heart.

Lady Law puts Scotland Yard to shame. She's apprehended Jack the Ripper and solved countless other cold-case crimes. No one knows how she does it, but it's brought her fortune, renown and even a title. But is she really what she claims to be—a genius at deducting? Or is Al right and she is not be trusted?

Julia is determined to find out the truth, even if it means turning sleuth herself—and turning the tables on Lady Law...

EXCERPT:
The hillside site at Dover was a veritable three-ring circus of photographers, police, picnickers, mobile sandwich and hot chestnut stalls, curious ramblers and more bespectacled men than Julia had ever seen congregated in one place. She guessed the latter were scientists and newspaper men. The Pegasus swooped low for a wonderfully close passing view of the iron mole, minutes before the start of its grand adventure. Other airships followed suit, then the convoy climbed, executed a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turnaround and flew back over the machine, this time affording the passengers on the opposite side of the ships a clear view.

“It’s revving up,” Al enthused, responding to oohs and aahs from the far tables. “Come on.” He took Julia by the hand and hurried her across. A growl from below spun to a wiry squealing crescendo, much louder than she’d expected. No one would make way for Al, so to gain a better view he climbed onto a nearby chair. Julia offered to let him steady himself on her shoulder—the spectacle obviously meant more to him—but instead he helped her up onto a chair of her own.

Heady with excitement, she kept hold of his hand all while they watched.

The giant drill spun so fast she couldn’t make out its iron grooves. Its nose was a whirling monstrous cone of quite astounding power. Its silver body, a long, caterpillar cylinder covered with a spiral of toothlike treads, soon blackened under a layer of earth tossed up from the burrowing drill. A little over ten feet of penetration and already the debris cloud reached as high as the airships, masking much of the show.

Loud cheers and applause filled the Pegasus. Al beamed like a schoolboy at the fair. He reached over and gave Julia a peck on the cheek. She gripped his hand tighter. The Pegasus circled the cloud for a better view and she cheered along with everyone when the mole’s rear slid into the hillside and vanished, leaving a huge dark crater.

“It’s amazing,” she yelled above the furor.

“What’s that?” asked Al.

“Professor McEwan…he doesn’t even know what he’ll find down there.”

“I know. He’s a braver man than I…the magnificent fool.”

“Do you think we’ll ever see him again?” she asked.

Laughing, high on the moment, he hurled his hat and gloves at the ceiling and replied, “I don’t suppose he’s thought that far ahead. Relish it, Julia. He digs down, we climb high, the sun is out. This is a good day to be English!”

The small brass and woodwind sections finished their rendition of “Land of Hope and Glory,” then deferred to the string quartet for a lively number. Strauss’s “Tristch-Tratsch Polka,” one of her absolute favourites. Couples from all over the dining room, and even a few from the upper deck, scurried onto the polished, glittering dance floor and arranged themselves in a circle.

“Now or never,” Julia teased, holding her arms out for Al to lift her down from the chair.

He grinned and leapt to her aid with the agility of a swashbuckler. “Hey, do you even know this dance?”

“One way to find out.”

The dust cloud faded in the whorl of a breeze outside, permitting full, unfettered entry to the most brilliant sunlight Southern England had seen in weeks. It reflected off shiny crockery and bare tabletops and the roof of the spotless piano, blinding every dancer who spun in that direction. To her surprise, Al segued into the fast tempo with grace to spare, his compact, athletic frame matching her turn for turn. The feel of his hand on her waist made her giddy and his gaze found hers even when they changed partners. It inspired her to improvise during the ladies’ solo forays into the centre, and her bouncy quick-shuffles and spins soon drew generous applause from spectators. Al never once faltered. He was the steady glide to her soaring syncopation. This was her moment to shine. Hers and Al’s. While they were together, everyone else aboard the Pegasus faded away.

She had never enjoyed dancing more.

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To learn more about Robert Appleton and his intriguing books, visit his website or swing by his blog. He’s also on Facebook and Twitter

Have a terrific weekend. I'll be back Tuesday with a new teaser. Until then...

Happy Reading!

Sloane Taylor
Sweet as Honey...Hotter than Hell
www.sloanetaylor.com