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Theocrates and the Crystal Cavern Blitz

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Theocrates of Terexia, Book 1
Science Fiction, Space Opera
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One day, out of the blue, Theocrates began hearing voices. The “voices” wanted him to go to the Crystal Cavern. No one had been to the Crystal Cavern in over seventy years! But the Fate of Terexia was in the balance and Theo knew, somehow, that the voices were correct. He had to go. He had to find a way to repair the Rift that had formed between his world and the planet Tera, in a far off galaxy. The first step was to get permission, but even asking could be viewed as a criminal offense. Little did Theo know that these voices would catapult him above, and below, and across space, into an adventure that would change his life forever.
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About the Author

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Bryan DeWeese is a musician, writer and software engineer. Bryan’s first love is prognosticating about the future and telling stories in the science fiction and fantasy genres. Bryan has won many awards and hopes one day to be the recipient of a Hugo or a Nebula award.

 

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Edj of the Empire: Herrig’s World Tour

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Empire of Ninety Nine Stars Book 1
Science Fiction
Date Published: 10/10/2019
Publisher: Chandra Press
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Edj Dumarc LaRand Bronacious Tarkle, the son of Emperor Risherd Fontanue LaRand Bronacious Tarkle, and the Crown Prince and Heir to the Crystal Throne of the Empire of the Ninety-Nine Stars is on his way to Herrig’s World, a remote planet that rarely warrants attention. However, production of the ore critical to anti-grave tech, minzite, has recently cratered.
There are many ways to address the decline. The navy could be sent in to investigate, but they never do anything small. An official auditor could be dispatched, but he would inevitably find several perfectly good reasons for the decline and file a report saying, oh well, that’s just the way it is. Or Edj could go and make a few quiet, discrete inquiries and find out precisely who is profiting. It seemed so simple when his father asked him to investigate matters.
But nothing is ever simple. What Edj uncovers on Herrig’s World is a plot to destroy the foundation of the Empire. With a mindbender named Mala and his loyal android companion, JD, in tow, Edj begins an adventure across the Ninety-Nine stars to stop the conspiracy in its tracks. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what they expect. With his ship barely functional, and the odds stacked against him, can Edj save the Empire before time runs out?
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Excerpt

Coming to consciousness in a trash-strewn alley behind a dive bar on a rough-and-tumble mining world was quite a rude awakening, let me tell you. I suppose it beat the alternative, though – not waking up at all. Not that Sam would’ve let that happen.

I could tell there would be a knot on the back of my head even before I managed to convince my hand to undertake the monumental task of venturing up there to check it out, and I was right. I didn’t expect that hand to come away bloody, but that it did so didn’t really surprise me, either.

It had been one of those nights.

I suppose I’d better back up a little bit since I don’t know who might end up reading this account. First off, I am Prince Edj Dumarc LaRand Bronacious Tarkle, son of Emperor Risherd Fontanue LaRand Bronacious Tarkle, Crown Prince and Heir to the Crystal Throne of the Empire of the Ninety-Nine Stars.

Yep, that Prince Edj. You might have heard of me, but if not, that’s okay. You’d be surprised how many Imperial subjects don’t even know they are Imperial subjects, much less who their next monarch will be. And you know what? That doesn’t bother me one bit.

See, I know something that all those pompous, overdressed, kowtowing arrogant fools back at my Father’s court can’t even begin to comprehend: the average person couldn’t care less what goes on in the Glittering Palace. What concerns them are their day-to-day affairs, not what’s happening light-years away to people they’ve never met and who think themselves so much better than the commoners that, if they ever did meet them, would treat them like dirt anyway. Less than dirt, really. Dirt has value, while commoners are simply numbers in a database.

I guess that explains what I was doing out there on the very rim of the Empire. I don’t have any more to do with those self-important, ego-inflated aristocrats than I absolutely have to. Don’t get me wrong, now – I love my father. It’s all the fools he’s surrounded by I can’t stand. And since in an Empire the size of the Ninety-Nine Stars there are always a ton of minor situations that need attention before they become major problems, I can always find reasons to be anywhere other than Alphum.

Like, for instance, on Herrig’s World.

The reason I put myself in dangerous situations is not because I want to die. It’s because I want to really live. Since I know I’ll keep on breathing until I reach a ripe old, old age, my challenge is to make my life worth something.

And how can I know this, I can hear you asking.

It’s because Sam won’t let me die.



About the Author

Mr. Burns is a factory worker who sidelines as a carpenter, computer technician and jack of many trades handyman whose primary interest is hard science-fiction. He has read and loved that genre all his life and has always dreamed of writing books that others would enjoy reading as much as he himself enjoyed those of the great S/F masters. He is very interested in high technology and tries to impart accuracy and plausibility into his work. Other reading and writing interests include fantasy, magic, the paranormal, the Norse runes and nature-centered religions. He lives in northern Mississippi.
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The Moon Hunters Tour

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Science Fiction/Dystopian Fiction/Post-Apocalyptic Fiction
Date Published: 9/5/19
Publisher: Chandra Press
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For fans of The Hunger Games, Divergent, and The Gender Game comes a captivating new story like no other.
The Pestilence sweeps the globe with terrifying speed. A group of survivors finds an island sanctuary.
Three generations later, no one has heard from the outside world in years. The old radio only crackles with static. The Pestilence either finished its job or the world tore itself apart.
In the Village of Lehom, Leilani has been called to court as a Virtue by the King. Going to court means losing her independence and self-respect. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have a choice.
Leilani decides to take a stand; the King be damned. She plans a daring escape and sets in motion a series of events that will shake the foundation of her village and the island to its core.
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Excerpt

To whoever may read this, in case of our deaths, please send food, seeds, and cattle to Ani Island. Nearly a thousand lives are at stake. Although I don’t know how to direct you the island with coordinates, I hope the following details, as well as my descriptions of our villages, will help you find it. My island home is about three miles long and a mile at its widest point. It’s a verdant shade of green from the beaches that form most of its perimeter to the mountain that rises up sharply from the shore about a quarter of a mile from the waves. At the bases of the island’s waterfalls that bisect the green and black craggy cliffs, freshwater pools smell faintly of the nearby hibiscus flowers. Next to the sea caves of Gaiae, there’s a chink in the mountain, a cleft that regresses back from the beach we departed from. The waterfall in the center of this crevasse got smaller as the boat carried us further out to sea. As the crashing of waves on the shore became quieter, my home departed into a misty dreamscape as it often does when the rain clouds descend and conceal it.

Most importantly, the island is far away from any of the world’s mainlands. Isolation breeds health. Congestion breeds death. I used to accept these laws without question. We had what we needed. We measured time by the sun’s progress across the sky, the sea’s tides, the moon, a sundial in the center of the village, and moments of work, singing, and, more infrequently, laughter. We also used a calendar that Samsara had created when she established Gaiae, one more appropriate for us than the Old World’s. As I grew older, however, I realized the Old World utterly haunted us. Its rhythms still guided our thoughts and actions even if we believed we moved in deliberate opposition to them. People marveled at its inventions, things we didn’t have. The problem was, anyone who attempted to leave the island would break our most serious law. The penalty for that was death.

About the Author

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Anya Pavelle was born in Massachusetts but eventually settled in Florida, where she currently lives with her husband and dog. She’s a trained art historian who sees the quiet beauty in nature, art, and literature. Anya has been imagining new worlds since she was six years old and like many morbidly curious people, she’s obsessed with dystopian literature. The Moon Hunters is her first foray into science fiction. She’s currently working on the sequel and also plans on writing a prequel. In addition to writing, Anya loves traveling the world, SCUBA diving, relaxing with her friends and family, and finally, curling up with a new book and a glass of wine on a moon-lit humid night.
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E.V.A.IN.E.: Book 1 There Was a Place Blitz

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E.V.A.IN.E.: Book 1 There Was a Place
Horror Romance, Science Fiction
Published: October 19, 2016
Publisher: Page Publishing
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A world exists where the Incomparable Beauty of an Alien Technology Meets Its Ultimate Challenge: To remain Protector of Their Secret Transcendent Yet to Be Born.
Set within their spiral galaxy, between the expanse waves of Mira and Axis Prime, an exploring society called Deneva has created the answer to a harmonious continuance in the universe. One citizen of remarkable insight and intelligence, Dr. Shesgal Ollemanhalu, has created a transferable, virtual representative from his doctorate work in the natural world to aid his people in establishing the natural development of genesis in order to save his race. He name his virtual creation, E.V.A.IN.E. She is the carryover of Shesgal’s doctorate breakthrough in behavioral progression that leads to transcendence. The revelation which was meant only for his world becomes Shesgal’s remarkable change to life in the universe. It is known by the greater name of E.V.A.IN.E. World Foundation. In the search for fulfillment beyond their own survival, others, along with Shesgal would develop nature’s greatest creation; a super being of transcendent capability who can lead them all into their place of higher belief in the universe.
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Other book in this series:
E.V.A.IN.E.: Book 2 Lessons Learned from the Old Makers
Publisher: Page Publishing
Date Published: March 26, 2018
All life forms dream. Even the overlooked organism in the soil beneath our feet which ventilate the soil. Many of these have extended life spans exceeding our own. Likewise among this category are variations that achieve remarkable transformations to their physical makeup. The struggling caterpillar, which has the ability to acquire a state of metamorphosis, can attain a winged form capable of drinking the nectar of its culminating attainment…its philosophy if you will. Thereby fulfilling its destiny. The passage of time has shown the prediction to evolve a thought to take a form that will result in an action of beauty and resounding results. My daughter will also dream one day following this pattern of evolution and guard the flower’s nectar for the future transcendent and its proclamation to the universe. The “fractal key” will propel my created daughter to acquire a complexity that surrounds the observer and instructs him to abolish the excess that is defeating its efforts to become something more than before…To transcend!
About the Author

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Jackson Burrows currently lives in Deep South Texas along the perimeter of the Rio Grande. Earlier in Life, he worked in many occupations ranging from an agricultural tree farmer to a gravedigger at a cemetery. During the Vietnam conflict, he was drafted from Oklahoma State University during his sophomore year through the ‘lottery system’ developed by the Nixon administration to fill up the ranks for the already lost war. After serving in the USCG search and rescue detachment, he rode the deep sea ships of the merchant marine. In 1981, he became an emergency services personnel and eventually completed his employment of twenty five years as a fire captain and emergency medial tech. He is now retired and has completed the first book of his novel he developed those many years ago when he attended OSU.
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Inside the Masque Blitz

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Mystery + Science Fiction
Publisher: Eclipse Ink
Date Published: June 15, 2019
On Sale for $0.99
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 In a future where everyone wears a masque, anyone could be a killer. But a masque can’t keep you safe. Nothing can. Now it’s up to Chief Inspector McNair and his team to find that killer. They’ll uncover the secrets and lies that dwell inside every beautiful masque and stop at nothing until they find the truth—no matter how ugly it turns out to be.
 Excerpt
Chapter 12
The later it got, the louder the squad room got. Well, it was a Saturday night. What else could you expect?
The officers on duty all wanted to be somewhere else. Many of them wanted to be someone else, at least for tonight. Someone who wouldn’t have to be working on a weekend night, someone who could wear any damn masque they wanted and not be limited to the meager selection that the agency afforded and that was mandatory, standard issue, part of the uniform.
McNair didn’t give a shit. The detective masque—he was wearing the No. 3 model today—fit him just fine, and he had no place else to be. Not tonight. Not any night. Not since his wife left him.
Good riddance. Off on her great life adventure with that damned legacy. Pretty stunning blow, that, but, yeah. Good fucking riddance. He had the whole apartment to himself now and more time to concentrate on his job, his one true passion.
She’d skewered that fact and driven the pike into his heart—and she’d been right.
Tonight he didn’t want to be in his office. The squad room was better. Not lonely. Alive. He liked it better out here anyway.
A group of officers were at the far corner of the room, having an arm-wrestling contest with all takers. The shouts and grunts and encouragements and disappointments and good-natured name calling filled the high-ceilinged chamber with their lusty sounds. Litz, McNair’s second-in-command—the man had biceps that could be mistaken for tree trunks—was probably winning every single round.
Behind the desk where McNair was sitting, Wieand, one of his most thorough officers, was asleep, snoring, his head on his desk, and his partner, Shey, had her feet up right beside his head and was reading off her scroll. She was the studious one of the pair.
McNair loved every single person in this room. More than he’d ever loved his ex-wife. She’d told him that once, maybe more than once, maybe more than that, and it was true.
So what? So what? He had loved her. It’s just that when you spent most of your waking hours with other people—people whose lives were at stake and who had to react to anything at any time and so did you and you all depended on one another—well, those were the people you loved. You couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t want to help yourself.
He hadn’t told her that. Why would he? He wouldn’t. But actually he hadn’t told her anything. He hadn’t had time to. Or the opportunity. Motive? Yes. More motive than necessary to order surveillance and some advanced close scrutiny, if it’d been a case. But means and opportunity? No. Not at all. Neither means nor opportunity. She’d left him a fucking note.
Good riddance. Good damn riddance. He was better off.
“Hey, Mac,” said Harata, shouting and waving to him from across the open squad room. McNair’s best friend, even before Harata had saved his life. Long before then. “Come have a go at it!”
McNair shook his head. He’d lose so fast he’d never live it down. Not a good idea for the chief inspector. Arm wrestling was hardly his forte, and Harata knew it, the bum. Litz, the sweat pouring from his forehead, was motioning to McNair to come over and take a beating. McNair laughed.
“What’s that?” said Shey.
McNair heard her voice through the cacophony of sounds in the room. He was attuned to the exact tone he was now hearing. He took his attention off the room, reached behind his left ear, and turned up the agency comm channel, listening in.
He felt the first pricks of tension at the base of his spine, where he felt everything. Where he still felt that note, which he’d pitched with the trash, yet he could see her handwriting in his mind as clearly as though he were still holding the note, as though it were being transmitted through a vid circ.
Shey had taken her feet off the desk and had her elbows on it now, leaning forward. Mac listened in. Wieand, Shey’s partner, who everyone in the squad room except Shey herself, the fool, knew was in love with her, was awake now. The man could sleep anywhere. McNair, who lately couldn’t sleep anywhere, envied him that.
“Sure,” Shey was saying. “Yes . . . They commed when . . . ? Oh, I see . . . Yes . . . How long ago? And . . . ? Yes . . . Okay . . . Yes. We’re on our way.”
She kicked Wieand, who stood up. “Ready, Chief,” he said, mocking her. The redheaded Shey was otherwise quite astute, but she never ever picked up on any of Wieand’s hints, many of them not very damned subtle. Anyone else would’ve either fallen in love or asked for a new partner by now. But not Shey.
“Homicide,” McNair said, standing up just as Wieand stood up.
Like all agency-issued masques, Shey’s had a forced neutral expression, but the waves emanating from her posture and attitude were tense, wary, and decidedly grim. McNair could read all his officers as though their masques were off, and he could recognize all of them from a distance without any help from an ID circ.
“Suspicious,” Shey said, being careful.
“I’m coming along.” McNair kicked closed the bottom drawer of his desk, where he’d been resting his feet. “Harata!”
Harata was already halfway across the room. When you work this closely with someone for this long, they don’t have to be told. They just know. You both just know. Harata had been listening in as well.
“Homicide,” Harata said. He lived on the extremes. Lived for them. But Mac thought it was homicide too.
“Suspicious,” Wieand said, siding with his partner. He’d been asleep and maybe hadn’t heard any of the conversation. He was looking at Shey with a gaze that said Come to me, my love but which she didn’t even notice.
“At the Nessard place,” Shey said, all business.
“That fabula producer?” Wieand said as he tore his gaze away from Shey, checked his sidearm, and buttoned the top button of his uniform shirt.
“Must be,” Shey said.
“I’m coming too,” said Litz, who’d given up arm wrestling, it seemed. He’d materialized at the desk where McNair had been camped out. Litz had probably heard everything. He had his hat on already.
“Sorry,” said McNair. “Something’s going on tonight. This might not be the only thing. You’ve gotta stay.” McNair would never issue an order exactly, but his word was law and no one questioned him. Litz was his second-in-command. He had to stay.
“Damn,” Litz said. He took off his hat and his curly hair sprang up comically. He rubbed at his left biceps, probably sore from all the arm wrestling. “Nessard’s,” Litz said. “Damn. I was looking forward to getting a decent snack out of this.”
“I’ll pack you a doggy bag,” Wieand said in his best deadpan as the foursome left the squad room and climbed the stairs to the rooftop landpad.
“Beautiful spring night,” Wieand said as he opened the door.
“For some,” Shey said.
About the Author
R. T. W. Lipkin lives in New York with her husband and three cats. Her genre-defying novels occur at the intersection of science fiction and fantasy, with mystery, romance, and adventure threaded throughout.
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