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Wednesday, October 17, 2018

PROMO Blitz & Giveaway: Mad Dedge in the Time of the Uniborg by @KenLaSalle


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Book One of The BreakThrough
Sci-Fi / Fantasy
Date Published: July 29, 2018

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The time of the uniborg was foretold on a distant planet.

So, what does it have to do Max Dedge, loose wheel and occasional detective?

This is just the start of the galactic event known as The BreakThrough, an event that could erase human existence, an event that could spell doom for planet Earth and possibly for history itself. It’s also an event that Max Dedge is blissfully unaware of at the moment.

And that’s a good thing. Because Max Dedge is about to find himself shot at on an alien world, fried by magic in Mexico, investigating corporate underhandedness in New Jersey, following leads on a vanished Rabbi in France, and being chased by certain death from one world to another and in between. At his side, the wizard Jracilla who has trained all her life for this day, thief and nemesis Arturo Delgado who is forever up to no good, and Sylvester… a very special phone.

Max Dedge in The Time of The Uniborg combines a unique fantasy experience with a mystery that binds two worlds and beyond, setting the stage for the epic adventure of The BreakThrough. The BreakThrough is set against a dynamically changing universe filled with characters who will helm their own titles.

Max Dedge in The Time of The Uniborg is just the first step into a universe of magic and time travel, rogues and wizards, space jalopies and portals to other worlds, taking you to the precipice of what you thought science fiction and fantasy could be and then throwing you over the side.



Excerpt

Later, Max lay in the dark, in the most comfortable bed in the shittiest little motel that still had two rooms in Las Cruces. The motel sat on a lot with an abandoned Carl’s Jr. and a burned-out gas station, but none of that had mattered. Max had been falling asleep at the wheel and knew he’d never make it as far as El Paso. After a large dinner of chili verde, beans, rice, and enough chips and salsa to choke a mariachi band, Max had wanted nothing more than to stop and sleep. Thanks to Sylvester, he did.

Max rested peacefully, digesting his huge dinner, waking only when the alarm on his Velocity 3200 rang loudly. He turned it off, wishing for a snooze button (but he had disabled that feature after hitting it about a hundred too many times). He looked around the darkened room and asked, “What the hell time is it?”

Sylvester replied, “My apologies, sir. The time is 4:17am.”

Max thought for a moment. “I didn’t set the alarm for 4:17am, Sylvester.”

“No, sir,” Sylvester replied. “You did, however, ask me to notify you should I find any connection between Chambéry and your current case.”

Max knew that Sylvester would have been working on that problem around the clock. With Sylvester’s processing speed, that was like putting an army of college interns onto a case of beer. Telling Sylvester to let him know when he found something, without specifying when that was appropriate, was Max’s fault.

Max sank back into the soft, sinking mattress and sighed. “Okay, Sylvester. What did you find?”

“There is some historical evidence, sir, that the Tretonians may be distantly related to the people of Chambéry,” Sylvester told him.

And Max’s eyes opened in the dark. He’d been hoping for a connection to the bombs in San Francisco, to the gun in Leodinym, to the clock in Pentress, but…“Sylvester? What the hell are you talking about?”

Sylvester replied with an understanding, “The story is rather complicated, sir. If you would prefer, I can tell you in the morning.”

Max wouldn’t hear of it. “You’re not going to tell me you found Tretonians in France and not explain it,” he growled.

Sylvester hesitated. “That isn’t exactly what I was reporting, sir.”

Max practically jumped from the bed. “Just tell me the story!”




About the Author

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Author and occasional philosopher and monologist, Ken La Salle’s passion is intense humor, meaningful drama, and finding answers to the questions that define our lives. Ken La Salle grew up in Santa Ana, California and has remained in the surrounding area his entire life. He was raised with strong, blue collar roots, which have given his writing a progressive and environmentalist view. You can find a growing number of his books and performances available online. Find out more about Ken on his website at www.kenlasalle.com.





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SeaJourney


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Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals, Book 1
Middle-Grade Fantasy Adventure

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A young warrior stands at the precipice of war…

To succeed he must find his courage and survive a treacherous journey across the sea.

Arken Freeth has always wanted to prove himself worthy of his king's appointment by becoming an officer in the Lantish Sea Service. Now the only thing standing in his way is his apprenticeship SeaJourney. But a peaceful training mission soon turns into a deadly struggle for survival as Arken's fleet must come to the aid of a princess fleeing capture by Tookan pirates.

SeaJourney kicks off an epic and fantastical adventure that is a great read for all ages.



Other Books in the Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals series:



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Shipwrecked
Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals, Book 2
Publisher: AIS, Limited

As war looms like an evil shadow over the world…

Arken Freeth must save his crewmates’ lives as they traverse a deadly jungle filled with massive wolves and sabertooth cats.

In the age before the Great Flood, 13,000 years ago, a new alliance between the nations of Lanth and Tolaria is threatened by pyramid-building Amarrats out to conquer and enslave the world.

Fourteen-year-old Arken Freeth is swept up in the conflict when his Lantish Military Academy training ship is attacked by pirates and runs ashore. He and six classmates are the only survivors of the shipwreck, and they struggle to live in a jungle filled with saber-tooth cats, dire wolves, mammoths, and mastodons.

Arken has salvaged a necklace from the wreck--a necklace that bestows the gift of prophecy. If Arken can get it to the King of Lanth, he will turn the tide of war.




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The Toth Hunter
Arken Freeth And The Adventure Of The Neanderthals, Book 3
Publisher: AIS, Limited

Arken learns more about the secrets of his heritage and discovers the strengths it offers will help him to earn a place of leadership among his grandmother’s people.

Arken Freeth and Asher, the future king of Tolaria, find themselves trapped in the Nanders’ Water Cave as they await the recovery of Arken’s love, Talya.

While living among the Nanders, Arken earns the respect of the tribe as he hunts the deadly jalag and massive toth with the tribe. But Arken, Asher, and Talya soon anger the wife and son of the tribe’s leader, Jen. If Arken does not accept Jen’s challenge to the death, all their lives will be in jeopardy.




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Tookan Attack
Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals, Book 4
Publisher: AIS, Limited

A battle is looming between the Tookans and Arken Freeth’s band of Lantish, Tolarian, and Nander warriors. Who will survive?

The Pirate King Yolanta’s fleet has fled to Situn, a barbarian settlement on the northern coast of the Circle Sea. Once provisioned, Yolanta plans a return to the River Zash and a final battle that will secure the Necklace of Tol for the Amarrat King. Yet before Yolanta can return to crush the Nanders, he will face betrayal and death at the hands of the hostile residents of Situn, the treacherous walled city of the North.

A troubling vision has warned Arken Freeth that Yolanta and his men will soon storm the Nanders’ Water Cave. In order to save the Nander tribe and protect the Necklace of Tol, Arken, Talya, and Asher must forge weapons and train the Nanders in the art of modern warfare, an impossible task when the Nanders follow The Way and are so resistant to change.

Mar discovers that Arken is the Jalet-hoi, the one foretold to be the savior of the Nanders. But in order to fulfill this powerful prophecy, Arken must survive a duel with Jen, the tribal chief’s son, to save his friend Ord’s life. No one, not even his friends, believes Arken will win this fight with such a powerful warrior. Even if he does live, will their battle training be enough for them to build a Nander army skilled enough to survive the Tookan Attack?




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Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals Boxed Set
(The Boxed Set, Books 1-4)
Publisher: AIS, Limited

Part Neanderthal, but raised as a human, Arken Freeth finds that he doesn't fit in either world as he struggles to survive.

SEAJOURNEY, BOOK ONE

Arken Freeth has always wanted to prove himself worthy of his king's appointment by becoming an officer in the Lantish Sea Service. Now the only thing standing in his way is his apprenticeship SeaJourney. But a peaceful training mission soon turns into a deadly struggle for survival as Arken's fleet must come to the aid of a princess fleeing capture by Tookan pirates.

SHIPWRECKED, BOOK TWO

Arken Freeth’s Lantish Royal Military Academy training ship is attacked by pirates and runs ashore. He and six classmates are the only survivors of the shipwreck and they struggle to live in a jungle filled with saber-tooth cats, dire wolves, mammoths, and mastodons. Arken has salvaged a necklace from the shipwreck—a necklace that bestows the gift of prophecy. If Arken can escape the Tookan pirates intent on stealing the necklace for themselves and deliver it safely to the king of Lanth, he will turn the tide of war.

THE TOTH HUNTER, BOOK THREE

Arken and some of his friends are rescued by the Nanders, only to find that many of the Nanders want to put them to death for fear they will escape and send slavers back to the Water Cave. Join Arken as he comes to grips with his heritage and struggles to keep himself and his friends alive while learning to live and hunt in the wild like a Nander.

TOOKAN ATTACK, BOOK FOUR

The bloodthirsty Tookans return for the necklace, but a surprise awaits them when they step on shore, for Arken and his friends have armed and trained the Nanders. Though outnumbered, the Nanders are powerful warriors in their own forest. The outcome for the Tookans is anything but certain as Arken fights alongside the Nanders to defend their home.



Excerpt

Chapter 1: The Rock Test

Mother, I weep for you each night. Our enemy’s campfires

seem to number more than the stars in the sky. Their soldiers

drum and chant all night and torment our sleep. I fear the worst

for my people, for I cannot read the Necklace of Tol to see the

Time to Come.

—Diary of Princess Sharmane of Tolaria

Thirty boys surrounded Arken in a circle, waiting for him to

lift the rock and prove he was strong enough to graduate.

“No more delays, Arken,” Lar ordered. “Sunset will leave you

too old to test!” Lar’s olive skin and dark beard turned his

sunken eyes into two caves in a rock cliff. He was a lean, tall,

and wifeless instructor who lived alone in the academy officer’s

barracks.

Arken could never tell if Lar liked him, since Lar was

sometimes friendly to him, yet now made fun and appeared to

enjoy his classmates’ laughter.

The circle of boys, all taller than him, carried sparring

swords and wore bronze armor over their white, knee-length

tunics. Bronze helmets shielded faces from the blazing sun.

“Class, form a seated square around the post and stone,”

Lar ordered. The moving armor rang with the music of bronze

and they joked as they sat. It was easy for Arken’s classmates

to laugh; they had all passed the test. As the youngest, he was

the last to reach his fourteenth birthday and take the test

before SeaJourney, a one-moonth-long apprenticeship, now

only days away.

If Arken lifted the rock, he would graduate and join his class

at sea. Failing the rock test today left only one way of going on

SeaJourney. He would have to defeat Gart, the class salcon, in

a sparring match.

“He’s taken so long I’ve grown a beard,” Gart joked in a loud

voice. Everyone laughed at Gart’s jokes, even if they weren’t

funny, because he was a year older than the rest of the class,

bigger than all of them, and their salcon, their squad leader.

Gart had passed the rock test the previous year, then failed his

final exams.

Given an additional year to study and the leadership

position as class salcon, the academy expected him to succeed.

A wave of depression swept over Arken. If he failed to lift the

rock, he had no chance of beating Gart in a sparring match. He

was a head taller and stronger.

“Arken, lift the stone!” Lar’s tone turned angry. “Why are

you stalling?”

“Yes, sir.” Arken scanned the second-story classrooms a

hundred legs across the courtyard. Girls in the Queen’s

Trackers often visited the academy for training and, being

scouts, they had good eyes. He didn’t want them to see him

fail.

But no girls watched from the openings in the gray stone

walls. Even the tower guards weren’t looking, probably due to

midmeal and the mid-day heat leaving them sleepy.

Arken turned towards Tok, the name given the rock five

hundred years earlier when the test began. He’d never lifted a

stone this big in practice. Father would be so disappointed if he

failed; he’d worked so hard with him practicing swords to help

keep up with his classmates. He stepped next to the rock.

“Don’t forget the warrior’s creed,” Lar reminded him.

“Sir! Fear none in battle, nor death at sea, nor those who

wish to torment thee, with Kal in mind and sword held high,

fight until you win or die.”

“Good! Now win your fight with that rock,” Lar ordered.

Arken squatted and picked up red, courtyard clay, then

rubbed it in his palms to improve his grip. Waves of heat from

the mid-day sun shimmered off Tok. Years ago they had run

laps from their classroom across the courtyard to the rock and

back while singing war songs. He and his young classmates

would slap the hot stone for good luck and shout “Tok” on the

turn.

A lingering touch of the stone could leave the palms warm

from the heat. Today he had to be careful and lift the rock’s

cooler, shaded side because touching the warm side would

make him drop the stone.

Arken was the only commoner in his class. All the other

boys were sons of noble families. The king had granted a

request by Arken’s father, a commoner, to send Arken to the

academy. It was a reward for his father’s heroism in battle.

Arken had endured bad treatment and bullying at the hands

of the noblemen’s sons since the age of six because he wanted

to prove himself to his father and he yearned for a chance to

explore the world in the Sea Service.

Now all those years of abuse would only be worth it if he

lifted Tok and graduated.

A swordtooth’s scream split the air. The class turned as one

towards the sound coming from beyond the fort’s north wall.

The high-pitched tone dropped to a long, low rumble that made

Arken’s neck hairs stand up.

“Remain calm,” Lar ordered. “The swordtooth is far away. I

promise, if it draws close enough for the guards to kill, we’ll go

up on the wall and watch.”

The boys all talked at once about the swordtooth and

seemed to forget about Arken. He wiped sweat from his face

that had run down despite the gastag leather strap holding

back his long blonde hair. He felt grateful for the swordtooth

because it bought time to get his nerves under control.

The swordtooth cat was old and couldn’t hunt toth and ton,

so it had moved in close to the city walls to attack King’s

Harsemen when they patrolled outside the fort. Two dead

horses and riders made it essential that the swordtooth die. So

the guards had tethered a goat next to the south wall before

dawn to draw the cat within range.

The swordtooth screamed again, sending chills down

Arken’s spine. The cats grew to twenty feet long. Though

terrifying, they inspired him. They were proof of the vast,

dangerous world beyond the city walls awaiting his exploration.

“Begin, Arken,” Lar said.

“Fourteen … I’m old enough,” Arken whispered to himself.

He rubbed the loose clay from his hands and rose to extend a

hand from the top of the post to his chest, measuring the

height he’d have to lift Tok to his belly button. A slight

depression in the top center of the post would hold the rock,

but to lift and gently place it so as not to roll off was the

challenge.

“He’ll never lift it,” Gart whispered loud enough for all to

hear. “He’s too small.”

“Silence, Gart!” Lar entered the square and strode towards

Gart. “You’re a salcon! Friendly teasing is fine, but a class

leader should never undermine his men.” Lar jabbed his heavy

walking stick into the back of Gart’s calf where the armor didn’t

protect his legs, making the boy wince. A grimace crossed his

face. Crying out during punishment lengthened the beating so

Gart made no sound.

“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!” Gart pulled his feet in tight under the

skirt of his white tunic to avoid another poke of Lar’s stick. His

lower lip quivered slightly despite his stony face and Arken

knew he’d been hurt by Lar’s blow and comment.

“Arken, lift that stone now!”

“Yes, sir.” Arken said, but the swordtooth screamed,

drowning out his reply.

“It’s getting closer!” Lar exclaimed. “Arken. Hurry and lift,

we want to see that swordtooth killed!”

“Yes, sir.” Arken felt grateful the big cat had diverted

attention for now he felt ready.

He squatted, put his chest on the stone, and reached

around with his arms so he could lock his fingers. He’d always

thought his barrel chest was an advantage; it gave him more

wind when he ran. But now his chest prevented his fingers

from touching. Arken turned his head to the left, brushing his

right cheek against the stone. The hot rock stung his flesh as

his straining fingers locked together. For once his too big hands

were an advantage and not an embarrassment.

He held his cheek off the hot rock as he pushed with his

legs. But the rock didn’t budge. It felt alive and its weight

fought him. He struggled to breathe, his chest restricted by the

rock’s pressure.

He tipped back on his heels and the rock popped off the

ground. A thrill ran through him. I’m going to do it! But when

he strained to rise, nothing happened. Impossible! So heavy!

He thought of quitting, but his fingers slipped and to his

surprise he fought to tighten his grip instead of letting go.

I can’t disappoint Father. Dear God Kal, grant me a birthday

wish, Arken prayed. Help me lift this rock.

He screamed and it startled some of the boys. He didn’t

care; the scream gave him strength and the rock edged higher.

His inner elbows burned from the strain of the weight. They felt

as if red-hot fire pokers were being thrust into them. His legs

trembled.

I am strong enough! He simply had to endure the pain.

“Almost there!” Lar had stooped over to see the post’s top.

Arken lurched forward with his right foot but the rock

thudded against the top of the post. He advanced his left leg,

then leaned back, trying to raise the rock the last little bit to

clear the post.

Pain shot across his low back. He recalled Lar’s stories

about boys injuring their spine by tipping backwards too far.

“One finger width higher!” Lar yelled.

The pain straightened his spine against his will.

“No, you’re going lower, lift it higher!” Lar waved his hands

as if he could somehow help Arken lift.

Arken strained his calf muscles, trying to lift his heels off

the ground and raise the rock that way. He rose to his tiptoes.

“You’re clear, push it forward, Arken!” Lar stepped closer.

A final push, he could feel it! He strained to go forward, but

suddenly, his calves gave way as if they belonged to someone

else, no longer willing to do his bidding. He felt his heels strike

the ground as the rock pushed them down.

“Too low.” Lar bent down. “Can’t you get it higher? You were

close.”

“I’ll try,” Arken grunted. He strained to raise himself back on

his toes, but nothing happened. He tried to pull with his arms,

but the rock lodged against his chest and wouldn’t budge.

Suddenly everything started to go dark. He focused his eyes on

some palm trees across the courtyard outside the fort’s main

gate.

The green palms swayed in the light breeze as they receded

down a long black tunnel. He blinked, but opened his eyes to

only a pinhole of light.

“Clear!” His intended yell came out a whisper. He felt the

stone slip from his grasp. A hand snatched him back by his

arm and the world left him.

“Are you alright?” Lar’s voice echoed as if he were in a cave.

“I think so.” Arken opened his eyes. A seagull hovered in the

blue sky high above Lar’s hollow-cheeked face and Arken

realized he was lying flat on his back.

“You’re sure?” Lar leaned in closer and blocked the gull’s

view.

“Yes.” Arken rose to his elbows. “What am I doing on the

ground?”

“You blacked out lifting the rock.” Lar said.

“I didn’t pass the test?” The memory came flooding back.

“You will next year.” Lar offered his hand. “You’re strong

enough, just not tall enough.”

“I know.” He felt proud he’d at least been strong enough to

lift it.

“Do you want to try your luck sparring with Gart today?”

“Yes, sir, I do.” Arken surprised himself with his answer as

he rose to his feet. He didn’t care if he lost, or even if he got

hurt sparring Gart. He wanted so badly to go on SeaJourney

this week. Life at sea called him.

“Good, I admire your spirit, Arken, though you’ll probably

lose.” Lar chuckled and shook his head.

“Maybe,” Arken rubbed his hands to knock off the clay, then

tried to brush the red clay from the back of his white tunic, but

with little success. Arlet, their Nander kitchen slave, would

scold him tonight for the dirty uniform.

The swordtooth screamed again, this time so loud it echoed

around the courtyard.

“It’s close to the wall!” Lar turned his gaze to the

guardhouse where soldiers were running for the chariot

mounted, giant crossbow. “Arken will fight you, Gart, after we

watch the guards kill the swordtooth. Lead your class to the

top of the wall.”

“Yes, sir, I accept Arken’s challenge. Cadets to me!” Gart

jogged for the wall.

The cadets saluted and were gone, like armored quails

busting out of grass in fear. Tanned legs carried lean bodies up

the stairs to the wall top in seconds.

Arken jogged two steps to Lar’s one despite Lar running with

his ceremonial robe gathered in his hands to prevent tripping

on it. Arken was grateful for some time to regain his strength

before sparring with Gart. It was his last chance to go to sea

this year. He had been so excited about beginning his officer’s

apprenticeship as a saldet, a junior officer. Only Gart stood in

his way.




About the Author


 photo SeaJourney Author Alex Paul_zpsz00ofdao.jpg
Alex Paul is the award-winning author of Arken Freeth and the Adventure of the Neanderthals books series, and co-author of They’re Mine and I’m Keeping Them.

Alex Paul lives with his wife Laura Ross-Paul (co-author of They’re Mine and I’m Keeping Them), and two faithful dogs, in Portland Oregon in the winter, and the Oregon Coast in the summer.

He trained as an Industrial Engineer at Oregon State University, working in a variety of fields before settling into a career as a real estate developer.

Alex Paul has been a life long outdoors enthusiast, having a wealth of knowledge and experience to draw on for his epic fantasy Arken Freeth series.


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Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Tracker


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Outcasts, Book 3
Sci-fi Romance
Publisher: Anything-but-Ordinary Books
Published: September 2018

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Xorran, a famed tracker, is sent to find two human females kidnapped by the Outcasts' enemy. His search seems futile until he encounters Sara and a feisty battle cat cub. He's fascinated by the tiny animal, but feels an immediate and powerful connection with the wisecracking human.

Sara is still angry about being brought to the Outcasts' planet without her permission, yet her stubbornness is no match for "the pull". As they work together to rescue her friend, their passion flares ever hotter. Can Xorran prove to Sara that he wants more than a torrid affair? Now that he's found a potential mate, he will settle for nothing less than forever.



Other Books in the Outcasts Series:


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Heretic
Outcasts, Book 1
Publisher: Anything-but-Ordinary Books
Published: April 2018

Restless and embittered by an abusive past, Arton the Heretic finds himself in a battle of wills with Lily, a gorgeous geneticist. She holds the key to the future of his people, but she was brought to this savage world against her will and that’s an insult she’ll not soon forget. Their attraction is instantaneous and intense, yet each has valid reasons for mistrusting the other. He wants her, is consumed with the need to claim her, but he can’t focus on the future until he deals with the past.




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Marauder
Outcasts, Book 2
Publisher: Anything-but-Ordinary Books
Published: June 28, 2018

Rex Dravon, a notorious smuggler, is one of the Outcasts’ most important allies. Many of the Outcasts’ philosophies and approaches to life in general appeal to him, but he’s hesitant to commit to any cause. Hoping to entice Rex into committing, Arton the Heretic, tells Rex that he is genetically compatible with one of the “captive brides”, a feisty blonde named Thea Cline.

Thea is still enraged that she was dragged from Earth without her permission, and she’s recovering from a horrendous tragedy. She sneaks aboard the Marauder hoping to steal a weapon. Instead she’s confronted by the ship’s handsome commander. She knows to be wary of Rex because of his reputation, but she’s instantly, and powerfully, drawn to him. His offer to help her escape comes a little too quickly and she fears he has ulterior motives. Is he simply hoping to lure her into his bed—a fate she’s not sure she’d mind—or is his motivation more nefarious?





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Excerpt



Outcasts 3: Tracker

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Copyright © 2018 Cyndi Friberg

Slowly, he lowered his face, gaze boring into hers. Time paused, trapping her in the moment and narrowing reality to Xorran and her. His warm breath stirred against her lips, his scent slowly filling her nose. He was strong and handsome, smart and kind. And he offered security and a sense of belonging that she’d longed for all her life. Why was she so afraid of making the promise reality?

His lips pressed against her and she closed her eyes, blocking out thought and insecurity. He’d lit a fire in her body and now he was going to fan the flames until there was nothing left but ash. She only hoped that she would survive the inferno.

He pushed his arm back beneath her neck as his mouth caressed hers. As before, the kiss was slow and coaxing rather than harsh and demanding. He could be aggressive. No one rose through the ranks of any military without being ruthless, even lethal. But with her, he was gentle, patient.

Tired of denying her body what it needed so badly, she parted her lips and raised her hand to his face. Bristle roughened his jawline, but higher, along the crest of his cheekbone, his skin was warm and soft. She explored his shapes and textures while he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue. All the while their breaths mingled and mixed, making her head spin and her nipples tingle. Her heartbeat accelerated, amplifying the throb between her legs. She needed him there, filling the emptiness, stretching her core until she screamed with pleasure.

As if sensing her thoughts, his tongue pushed into her mouth, sliding along hers until his taste exploded along her taste buds, sending a fresh rush of desire all through her body. She groaned, hips canting, legs thrashing restlessly.

He slid his thumb along the collar of her uniform top, triggering the seam release. Cool air wafted across her breasts as he parted the sides, baring her to the waist. His hand soon followed, cupping, gently squeezing, and then teasing the nipples with the pad of his thumb or a careful pinch. She groaned into his mouth as darts of sensation zinged from the tips of her breasts to her clit. Desire rose, burning brighter as his skillful touch awakened her senses.

Eager to feel more of him, she drew his shirt from inside his pants. He wore the clingy pullover style many of the men favored. The fabric came free and quickly bunched below his arms. She tore her mouth away from his long enough to whisper, “Off.” She tugged on the shirt, illustrating what she wanted. He tore the garment off, obliging her with nearly violent haste, then his mouth recaptured hers.

She stroked his chest and shoulders, lingering over his arms, fascinated by the bunch and flex of his impressive muscles. All the Outcasts were lean and fit. Some were even more handsome than Xorran. But he was hers, hers to touch and taste, talk to and depend on. If she allowed his claim, they would share thoughts and emotions. There would be no lies, no pretense or deception. But she had to be willing to give him the same access to her mind. She had to be brave enough to believe his promises, and risk her heart.

Something deep inside her shifted, she softened, opened, and not just physically. She wanted to make love to him desperately, but she wanted more, she wanted that deeper connection, the absolute intimacy only experienced by bonded mates.

She returned his kiss with greater fervor, arching into his touch. “Oh Xorran, I want—”

“I know, love. I know.”



About the Author


 photo Tracker Author Cyndi Friberg_zps38fjx3xt.jpg

Passionate Sci-Fi with a touch of danger and a whole lot of sass. Cyndi has written about rock stars, vampires, and cat shifters, but she's currently focused on outer space. Her stories are fun, fast-paced, and seriously hot. She has made the USA Today Top 100, and every book in the Battle Born series landed on Amazon's Top 100. She is currently working on Outcasts, a spin-off series set in the Battle Born universe.






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