you like the epic world building of Frank Herbert with the amazing adventure of
Neal Asher, you will love Sworld: The Chronicles of Malick.
the genetically modified captain of The Pioneer, and his crew are on a
scientific expedition to the far reaches of the solar system when they received
a highly unusual distress call. What’s more alarming is that no other ship has
ever been out this far. Compelled to investigate, Malick and his team discover
an alien vessel with a mysterious cargo that ultimately leaves them hopelessly
marooned on the unexplored planet Sworld.
to their new lives, they begin a journey of discovery into a rich and vibrant
world with new life forms and intelligent species, but also dark mysteries and
perilous danger. An ancient race has turned to violence and aggression and will
stop at nothing until they achieve total domination. Plunged into a quest for
answers and an end to the bloodshed, Malick and the crew must solve the enigmas
of Sworld or perish.
The Chronicles of Malick is a thrilling science fiction adventure with
excellent character development, planet-spanning exploration, epic discovery,
and perilous danger.
independent science fiction presses and pick up your copy today. You’ll be glad
is a must read for any sci-fi fan out there. If you enjoy science fiction in
all its glory, this is the novel for you. – Anthony Avila, blogger and author
of Nightmare Academy
author spent his childhood in Colorado skiing and riding dirt bikes.After spending way too much time in college,
he took his engineering degree to the deserts of southern California.After retiring to the mountains of northwest
to play golf, his wife dared him to write a book.The rest, as they say, is history.
Aliens among us hidden in plain sight locked in a race to save their species from genetic wear-out the Parteans have come to Earth not to destroy but to build. After convincing scientist, Peter Kirby that he has discovered a way for individuals to relive any memory the idea that aliens are friendly is implanted. Some people resist and are eliminated.
Detectives Gardner Poole and Emma Bossart discover the alien ruse, but it is too late to stop the president of the United States from greeting our neighbors from outer space who hover miles above us in their spacecraft.
Ionlin, the spokesman for the Parteans, regales the assembled government officials with the many advantages of accepting them as allies. These advantages include massive health benefits, technological information and much more. She is very clear that there will be no information regarding interplanetary flight due to Earth’s history of violence.
Overcoming problems of mistrust and misinformation Earth and Parteans agree to an alliance with the stipulation that Earth will keep a watchful eye on our new friends. Unbeknownst to all, there is another player in the game.
Besides, we’re Swiss; we never lose a war.
Lake Geneva, Switzerland the attendant adjusted the halo around Emma’s head in preparation for the memory experience. The slight needle prick administered a mild sedative, which allowed her to relax and focus on one of her most cherished memories, that day over ten years ago.
Awareness arrived with the smell of gunpowder and the unmistakable repetitive crack of gunfire. Energized by adrenalin, her senses balanced on knife-edge as she scanned the warehouse rear entry.
Emma called to her partner over a cacophony of sounds. “Guess they knew we were coming.”
“Seems you could say that. How in God’s name could they know about the assault?”
Stefan had been her partner in the Swiss Federal Criminal Police (FCP) since her rookie days. Older, unflappable and dependable, if not a little too conventional for her taste. She, on more than one occasion, had trusted him with her life, but today was distinctly different. They were temporary adjuncts to this Interpol operation. Well, temporary or not, they were out-manned and out-gunned–time to stop being an adjunct and become the cavalry. I always liked that word.
“Stefan, can you see any of the Interpol strike squad?”
“No, after they sent us to cover the rear exit, they rushed the front. Sounds like that isn’t going so well.”
She formulated her thoughts then shouted her plan.
“Christ, Emma, we have 9mm Sigs and that racket sounds like machine pistols. Don’t you think a breach and entry is rather extreme?”
“Exactly, they’ll never expect us to come in the back door. Besides, we’re Swiss; we never lose a war.”
“That’s because we never fight a war.”
“As I said, we never lose a war,” she chuckled.
Stefan scrambled to his feet, sprinting beside her to the warehouse door.
She felt sure Stefan was flashing back to Geneva last year, when he surely thought she would get him killed. Not this time either; we got this.
She eased open the door and studied the chaos inside. The slight odor of gun smoke, which opened her memory, rose a factor of ten.
The hot warehouse, filled with a milieu of sounds–gunshots, desperate shouts, and moans of agony. The drug gang returned fire at an alarming pace. They not only knew the good guys were coming, they had no intention of fleeing.
She leaned closer to Stefan’s ear, “If we don’t act quickly, this is going to be a goddamn slaughter.” She carefully pondered the scene. Her mind placed each bad guy, but she could only see the Interpol team by muzzle flashes. Her earlier advice of coming with more firepower was pretty persuasive at the moment. Never bring a pistol to a machine-gun war.
Spying the elevated walkway prompted the start of a plan. She’d always been decisive and many times decisive actually trumped right. Pray I’m right this time. “I need to reach the catwalk,” she yelled, “that should give me an overview of the general shitstorm.” Did you bring the bullhorn?”
“Are you kidding? I left it outside the door.”
“Go back and get it while I ease up the ramp. When you see me in position, I want you to reenact that stunt we pulled in Ochsengasse with slightly different sound effects.”
Emma rapidly outlined the scheme. “That’s diabolical–as long as you don’t get shot before you reach the catwalk, and given they believe us.”
“Stefan, my man, you do your part and I’ll convince any non-believers.”
He slid out the door. She crawled and sprinted around packing crates.
Fortunately, the drug boys were facing the troops and Interpol couldn’t see her. Making the stairs, she crawled up on her belly. Easing along the runway, she reached a supporting column, which allowed some cover and afforded a warehouse view. She could just make out the Indians through the choking gun-smoke. She turned, to find Stefan in position. Emma crossed herself and gave the signal; she hoped the scumbags understood English. Cavalry time.
His voice thundered through the warehouse.” Delta squad, take up position on the east wall; alpha squad, flank to the west. Attention hostiles, you’re surrounded; throw down all weapons. Squads, ready grenades. This is your last chance, throw explosives on my mark.” He began a count which reverberated in the confined space, “one, two . . .”
Gunfire ceased. Voices in Spanish and English screamed. “What the hell? Que Pasa? Who’s shouting?” A high volume bullhorn can be quite disorienting, especially when. it’s announcing your demise.
A gunman, about thirty meters across the floor, bellowed something in Spanish as he whirled and sprayed machine pistol rounds in Stefan’s direction. Emma calmly placed a single slug through his right shoulder. He dropped screaming to the floor Stefan, your timing is perfect. Except for your kids and my vow to never date cops, I would screw your brains out.
The Mexicans gaped at their shrieking compadre. Weapons began dropping to the floor. Emma turned and saw Stefan lying on the concrete. Stomach clenched, she holstered her pistol and ran down the catwalk. Even in her abject panic, she had the presence to run with raised hands, yelling, “Interpol! Interpol!” My end as a friendly fire accident would be the definition of ironic. As she ran, officers rushed to the wounded, cuffing drug dealers and calling for ambulances. She vaulted down the stairs screaming “medic” at the top of her lungs. Reaching Stefan, she saw movement and felt tears streaming down her checks.
Gingerly rotating him on his back, she saw him grimace.
About the Authors
Darlien C. Breeze raised on a copper and gold mine in the California desert she brings many unique experiences to her stories. An educator for many years she concurrently owned an import/export business, a beauty salon and sold real estate. She has over eighty short stories and seven novels published including A Life of Crime, Crusin’ for Crime and A Twist in Crime. Her latest books include Beware of Memories Beware of Redemption and The Golden Key an historical fiction book.
Dr. Patrick K Jaynes, is a neuroscientist who has written may articles for the science community. His research into the problems of fracking have led Oklahoma to revise some of their policies regarding this practice, He lends authenticity to the science in Beware of Memories.
Series: The Last Tritan Book 1 Genre: Adult Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fantasy Publication Date: February 1, 2019
His people took everything from me, and Goddess be damned if I won’t take it back.
�I�ll be good to you,� he purred and swept his thumb over my pendant, caressing. His ki surged into my mind, hammering at me with a soothing promise, abusing the link he�d left behind with a kiss. �You�ll never want for anything��
Asher promises to teach me the forbidden while my city�my home�burns at his back. Because of him, Tritan falls, and the Caledonian forces take the best of my people for their own sick uses.
To fight, those of us who remain must flee. Regroup, or submit.
But he�s coming, hunting me, and Asher won�t stop until I wear his mark. Until my goddess-given power is his to command.
He�s tasted my lips and fed me nothing but lies, but his betrayal has given me strength even he didn�t expect.
His people took everything from me, and Goddess be damned if I won�t take it back.
A low groan rumbled in his throat, and he swallowed, catching my wrist in a much larger hand. For a long moment, he simply stared down at me, but when my tongue darted out to wet lips dried by searing winds of ki and living shadows, something in him snapped. I felt it happen. Even before he pressed his lips to mine, I felt it.
Warm and soft, his kiss spoke of the forbidden. The impossible. Making my core clench with unnatural speed and fervor as ki whirled between us. Sending blood surging in delicate tissue. All around us. Invisible to the hoards of sightless mundane going about their business a scant few feet away, where only their shades could see us. The scrape of a day-old beard dragged a splintered groan from my chest, and, hands slipping down my back, he seized the taut globes of my bottom. Spreading me.
Pulling me closer.
Would that he could drag me inside his skin, where I could drink him dry and soothe this blessed, painful ache.
His teeth traced my lower lip, filling my lungs with breath and heated ki, pressing a thick bulge against my belly.
I gasped, drinking him in, demanding more. Gorging until my every cell was filled to bursting. Drawing on him as heavily as I drew upon his lips. Needing it. More. There would never be enough.
A puff of breath warmed my cheek when he twisted, breaking away from my lips with a curse, his fingers bunching the fabric of my shift. Inching it indecently high. But he drew back, setting his forehead against mine. Petting my hair back with calloused hands. Obsidian eyes concealed behind scrunched eyelids, labored breath leaving my skin damp. �God, the taste of you, girl.� He released my bottom and cupped the back of my neck, forcing me to still. �What are you?�
�I�m�� my voice cracked, and I cleared my throat, blinking as the world settled around us. Dazed, I squinted up at the man, admiring the rugged, handsome features so different to my own. Alien. Bronzed skin, muscular frame, dark hair and darker eyes�everything I wasn�t.
Kissing a Caledonian Elite in public? Had I lost my damned mind? My father would�
My father wasn�t here. And I hadn�t had enough. Not now. Not ever.
I buried my fist in his hair, pulling him back. Driven by instinct I didn�t recognize as my own. By a needy itch below the skin, the likes of which I�d never felt before. Before him…
About Myra Danvers
Raised by her awesome parents in Canada’s snowy north, Myra learned perseverance from an early age. She learned to speak in third person, via extensive reading as a child, because… well… Northern Canada gets a LOT of snow. And when one isn’t snowboarding, building quinzees, or waking up to teddy bears frozen to the floor, one tends to read about places that are warm–even if being cold is preferable to being hot, every-damn-time.
All that reading gave Myra the gypsy bug. So, after college, (where she majored in professional gypsying) she moved to a ski resort in British Colombia to be a ski bum and chase the winter, because the cold was in her bones and it never bothered her anyway. (Points because Elsa of Frozen is her spirit animal?)
But then life caught up with her, as it does, and now she’s stuffed full of enough life experience to write until transcendence (where she will be first in line to get a sweet android body and travel the universe until the end of time). So that’s what she does, when she’s not listening to the voices or taking apart the electronics just to see their insides.
What is it like to live in 4519 AD in a suspended town in the Earth’s Stratosphere and commute to school in your Inter Galactic Vehicle? How far do the adventures take you? In this story, you will find yourself traveling with Hazel, Richie and their alien best friend, Dmitri, on an exciting roller coaster of a ride of electrifying but perilous adventures from Mars to Enceladus, from Gly to Drethna. You will have to deal with the annoying doorbell, alien creatures, and beings, while on a journey to understanding what Gurecoa is.
About the Author
Starlight is the author of the series, The Galactic Adventures of Hazel, which is an inspiration from her fascination of Space and the Unknown ever since her childhood. Through these series, she wants to bring imaginative adventures from different corners of the universe to young and inquisitive readers.
She is a software engineer and she has an MBA degree from Drucker School of Business, Claremont Graduate University. She also took a summer class from Oxford University. With her knowledge of computer science and management skills, Starlight makes these galactic adventures not only a fascinating and entertaining story of future possibilities in artificial intelligence, technology and space travel, but also a tale crafted with problem-solving skills and ideas.
She currently lives in California. She loves horseback riding and singing. You can follow her on twitter @starlight_4512.
Zosma opens the series on Earth in 2052 A.D. as Allister Adams, a young superhuman, begins his search for the planet’s possible savior: Zosma Caster. Zosma is an intergalactic refugee and the vessel for an otherworldly energy source from the Andromeda Galaxy. The rogue organization C20 has been interested in Zosma’s power, but are its intentions entirely pure? Allister’s search for an alien becomes a search for truth as the walls, literally and figuratively, are closing in.
About the Author
Jason Michael Primrose has been creating alternate worlds and characters since childhood. For nearly ten years, he has used his unique storytelling gift to impact the entertainment, fashion, and tech consumer product industries. His experience spans brand strategy, creative direction, retail merchandising, and influencer/celebrity partnerships.