Please Keep Your Politics Out of my Fiction! Oh, Wait...

I'm tugging on my Reader Cap today for a bit of a rant about one of my major pet peeves as a reader.

Yup. Sorry. Sometimes you just gotta vent. 

I realize everyone's mileage may vary and there may be some who don't view this as an issue, but I've talked with and seen the comments from enough readers to know it's becoming a pretty major factor in the Readers' Pet Peeves column. 

I can recall a time, not even a dozen years ago, when politics and political issues weren't such major topics among writers and authors. I clearly remember the days when the last thing anyone cared about was what an author's political stand was, and which side of the political equation they supported or leaned toward. No one cared. It was a trivial matter. It just didn't make a difference.

How times have changed.

Today, everyone seems to have a very strong opinion on politics and world views, and authors, being communicators, can be especially vocal. Problem is, some of them don't confine their personal statements to social media and personal expression, and insist on stamping their views all over the books they write, a product they sell to readers as entertainment. Some even go so far as to push their politics in the newsletters they send out to those interested in their work. Yeah, that's an instant click on the unsubscribe button for me.

So here's my take...which you can take or leave at your discretion.

In my experience most readers don't want to hear an author's views expressed via what should be a well-crafted story but which has been unabashedly converted into a politically-fueled soapbox. This reader included. No. Thank. You.

From polls and commentary I've seen, I believe the majority of readers feel the same. They read fiction to escape the teeth-gritting turmoil of everyday life and have no desire to be constantly reminded of the hot mess our society is becoming. I read for escapism. I read to enjoy being whisked away to an imaginative fictional world that is usually set in a distant time. Turn a story set in the future into a mouthpiece for the dystopian present and it's an instant DNF for me. And that's whether I agree with those views or not. 

Here's the low down. If I want political opinions I can watch the news, or any morning talk show, or read politically-centered non-fiction books, or just sign on to any social media platform. I'm not looking to read about current issues in a story that's supposedly set in a different time and place. As I said, my whole point in picking up a book is to escape the here and now, at least for a little while.  

So please...let fiction be fiction.  

But all that said, as I wrapped up this blog, I realized there's a caveat. Completely avoiding the allusion to real life political or social topics in fiction, especially science fiction, is just plain unavoidable. And sometimes a reader might interpret the elements of some stories as political commentary, even though that wasn't at all the intent of the writer.

That's the "Oh, Wait..." part of today's blog title which I'm going to explore in my next post. I'll try to come back and add the link once it's posted. 

Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts or comments below, whether you agree or disagree. 

Checking In!

Hi all, it's been a very busy and exciting summer, and I apologize that this blog has taken a bit of a back burner while I'm dealing with a lot of real life ups-and-downs. (I never was a big fan of roller coasters, but...here I am! :D )

For a brief recap, Courting Disaster is still in the editing phase. I hope to be making more headway soon, but as of now, the anticipated summer release is not likely. I honestly thought the story was as "perfect" as I could get it before submitting to my editor. My editor didn't agree. It's going to take a bit of time to work through her feedback. This story is crucial to the timeline going forward and as soon as my schedule allows, it will be priority #1. 

Luna, who was the inspiration for the Star Dog in Courting Disaster, has been diagnosed with congestive heart failure and probably will be leaving us sometime in the next year. :'( We're doing what we can to keep her comfortable including regular visits to our vet. This has given me more incentive to get "her" story published and out there while she's still here. I'll try to do more frequent updates, snippets, etc. to keep you in the loop.

I did finish Linda Greenlaw's book, The Hungry Ocean. It was a good read, gave some great insights into the workings of a small crew (which may transfer in part to my future releases), and a ton of information on Swordfishing, which I've been a little fascinated with since first viewing The Perfect Storm many years ago. I'll be reading another of her books soon. 

I have to comment that it was a little sobering how huge the effort is in way of planning, supplies, groceries for a month, knowhow, ocean dynamics, instinct and pure luck go into a successful Sword boat expedition, and how little the payoff seems in comparison to the hardships -- sleep deprivation, high risk, and crises that arise from managing a 100-foot fishing vessel and a crew living in close quarters. A lot of this will filter into my next novel, Inherit the Vengeance, where crew troubles come in to play at the beginning of the story. 

Inherit the Vengeance is not close to going to the editor, but many scenes--and even entire chapters--have been written. The story opens in Captain Dava Jordan's POV. Ironically, she was first introduced in StarDog, and that story was inspired in part by the need to give her an origin story before she plays a major role in Inherit the Vengeance.

I'll sign off for now. Luna-bear and my three other Stardogs say "Hi." :)

EG MANETTI ~ TEMPEST TOSSED

 

Having survived Hurricane Ian and continuing to struggle through the aftermath, I’ve become aware of the ‘tempest tossed’ as a theme in sci-fi romance and space opera romance. All begin with a cataclysmic event—natural disasters, battles or invasions, deep-space disasters— and then the story focuses on surviving the aftermath.

Cara Bristol explores this theme in her Alien Castaways Series where a group of advanced aliens escape the destruction of their home world and end up stranded on modern future earth. Each book features one of the aliens struggling to adapt to their new reality while grappling with the grief of their loss.   

Veronica Scott’s Escape from Zulaire is a classic space opera where surviving the attack is only the beginning. The main characters' flight toward safety takes them on a harrowing journey through hostile and alien territory. 

Anna Hackett’s Hell Squad books explore a dystopian earth where the survivors of an alien invasion battle to rescue others while clinging to hope for a better future.

The stories are as different as the authors’ writing styles, but the heroes and heroines share similar traits. All of them are resilient, tenacious, and determined to endure while retaining their moral compass, compassion, and hope for a better future.

In The Twelve Systems Chronicles, The Cartel opens after Lilian has survived the threat of execution. In the aftermath, she will struggle to rebuild her life and future, ultimately altering the fate of her galaxy.

Purchase Links: https://egmanetti.com/series-starter-deal/

Celebrating The Cartel’s 10^th Anniversary ~ Entire Series 50% Off December 1-31! 

*** Excerpt from The Cartel ***

The amphitheater that is the Associates’ Hall is an archaic remnant of the founding days of Serengeti when armed servitors gathered for battle training. Known for its reverence of tradition and strict adherence to protocol, the Serengeti Group’s commitment to ancient formality serves as a reminder that in these modern, civilized times, commerce remains conflict. Serengeti associates are expected to excel in all forms of commercial warfare.

Lilian enters warily as the thirty or so occupants focus on her. Honor acts as duty commands.

A handful of associates arrayed in the finest of commerce couture are seated in the first of the tiered rows designed to accommodate five hundred. These are the protégés. Two months gone she expected to have an honored place in this elite group. Instead, the elegant crowd greets her with sneers. “Coward. Shadeless twist. Demon shit. Doxy.”

As she reaches the middle rows, twenty or so associates garbed by the better merchants join in the hostility, the murmurs swelling in volume as she passes. Chin high, eyes forward, pace even, she continues on, refusing to acknowledge her tormentors. She should be accustomed to insult and able to ignore it by now. This day. There is only this day.

 

EG Manetti

Where duty and passion collide 

www.egmanetti.com

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EG MANETTI - GALAXIES AND GODS

 According to a 2022 Gallup poll, eighty-one percent of Americans believe in God. According to Wikipedia, worldwide religious adherents are 7.8 billion. While recognizing that ‘adherent’ does not necessarily mean ‘believer’, with the 2022 world population at 8 billion, it is safe to say that most of the world acknowledges some form of deity.

Yet, it is rare to see faith or spiritual observance reflected in contemporary fiction outside of a few narrow sub-genres. I suspect that mainstream contemporary fiction avoids spiritual topics because they can be so controversial. Science fiction has fewer boundaries, allowing the inclusion and exploration of faith and spirituality without the baggage of modern sensitivities.  

The incorporation of faith can be as minimal as occasional references to The Lords of Space in VeronicaScott’s Sectors stories, or fuller blown as seen in the Badari Goddess who appears to various Badaris in both the Badari Warrior and Badari Gladiator series. Not only do I love the female persona, but also that the Badaris were stolen from their home world and enslaved, yet their Goddess finds them and aids them in their times of trial.

The use of the use the female to personify the ultimate spiritual power is also seen in Cara Bristol’s Alien Dragon Shifter series where an immortal priestess is the guardian of their Eternal Fyre; a collective of all their fyres (souls).

Marie A. Perez’s The Curse of Sotkari Ta series includes two contrasting belief systems with the patriarchal Arandans believing in a single deity while the contrasting Sotkari Ta seek The Farthest Light, which represents total evolution and perfection.

In a departure from humanoid deities, Alexis Glynn Latner’s Aeon Legacy series contains two ancient and powerful alien intelligences, one plant-based and the other pure energy. The humans who encounter them come away from the experience as if they had met archangels—powerful lieutenants of a greater force.

In all cases, the ability to incorporate spirituality or religion allows for greater scope in both plotting and character development, the different depictions as varied and fascinating as the stories.

In The Twelve Systems Chronicles, the main character’s spirituality and spiritual growth are a central theme and source of her strength. The primary belief system is based on deified ancient heroes, The Five Warriors, and Adelaide. As a result, society reveres martial arts and even considers them a form of prayer. It was not an accident that when inventing this pantheon of six ‘gods’, three are female. Each of the six has a dedicated sect with a clerical hierarchy. While the sects are rivals and some ways, for the most part, they are cooperative and unified.

There is even a dissenting group that practice a more zen-like, pacifist spirituality known as the Universal Way. Considered odd by the mainstream and somewhat marginalized, this group has a profound impact on the successful resolution of several crises throughout the series. The stage is set for the importance of Lilian’s faith in the first volume, The Cartel, when she undergoes a formal rite where Adelaide’s symbol is tattooed on her hip.

***Excerpt***

By canon and custom, Five Warrior Rituals are open to the public. They are to be witnessed by any with an interest in the Will of the Shades. Only members of the warrior class receive warrior marks. At the dedication, the Warrior’s Mark is drawn in henna on a four-year-old child. A true tattoo is incised at the consecration.

Although she no longer holds warrior status, having been dedicated, Lilian cannot be undedicated. She is bound by tradition and faith to consecrate the bond with a rededication made of her own free will.

Chrys frowns. “I did not know one could be dedicated to Adelaide Warleader. I thought it was only the Five Warriors that accepted the dedication of their descendants and their retainers’ descendants.”

“It is a small sect but supported by the canons. There was some controversy when I was dedicated to her,” Lilian explains.

Chrys is ever curious about both Lilian and the ways of the warriors. “How so?”

Leaning against a console, she regards the far wall of the windowless chamber. “I was intended for the Fourth Warrior. At that time, I was the eldest and only offspring of the newly formed Grey Gyre Cartouche. It was my duty to demonstrate our loyalty to, and descent from, the house of Jonathan Metricelli. It was to have been an elaborate ritual.”

Releasing her regard of the wall, she searches her friend’s face.

Fascinated, Chrys nods his understanding. Lilian has never yielded so much before this. The ritual must be extremely important to her.

She continues, “Apparently, I became bored and wandered off. They eventually found me in the Adelaide Alcove. I was seated in the lap of the effigy happily singing to myself and playing with her warbelt. The keeper decided that Adelaide had called me to her. They dedicated me as I sat there. By the time anyone else knew what went forward, it was too late. What was done could not be undone.”

~~~

The prelate waits in front of the statue of Adelaide Warleader as Lilian moves to the center of the semi-circle.  “Do you come of your own will to answer the call of Adelaide Warleader? Do you become her true servant in this time and this place? To live by her discipline and listen for her voice?”

Lilian’s voice clear and certain. “Of my own will.”

Pulling the thorn from her belt, Lilian places it on her palms and bows at the statue. Straightening, she transitions smoothly into a series of rapid movements, the thorn flashing like a flame before her. The rhythm shifts and the flame becomes a flickering light before disappearing entirely for the final set of maneuvers playing in light and shadow. At the completion of the demonstration, she folds to her knees and places the thorn on the stone floor in front of the statue.

At this point, Chrys moves to the alcove entrance and places his back to it, crossing his arms. Trevelyan notes that the young man is easily able to block the opening with his frame. Chrys’ stance is casual and his smile unexceptional. His presence neatly breaks up the small group gathered to observe.

Trevelyan finds the young man also makes an effective screen. He cannot see beyond him into the alcove where, bared to the waist, Lilian is receiving Adelaide’s mark. Long moments pass before Chrys turns and reenters the alcove, where Lilian, still kneeling, raises her left palm, right hand holding her thorn. She makes a quick pass with the blade, leaving a red trail of blood forming on the raised palm. Rising, she cuts a silver coin from her belt and rolls it in her bleeding hand. Placing it on the altar, she says, “For skill in the discipline of attack.”

Freeing a second coin, Lilian rolls it in her blood and then places it in the effigy’s lap with the words, “For skill in the discipline of defense.”

For the third coin, she voices, “For skill in the discipline of avoidance.”

The final coin is anointed. “For Adelaide’s will and voice.”

Stepping back, facing the statue, Lilian carefully cleans the thorn before sheathing it and bowing a final time.

The alcove keeper comes forward to collect the cloth used to clean the thorn and place it on the sacred flame. Returning, the prelate binds Lilian’s hand. “By your own will, you are Adelaide’s to command. Listen to her voice.”

As they leave, Chrys cannot contain himself. “Were you truly sitting in the lap of the statue playing with that grisly belt?”

“They are stuffed leather balls, not shrunken heads, and I was but four.”

“She was singing the Warriors’ Litany, as well,” her sister puts in, thrilled to have something to contribute.

Chrys offers a teasing grin. “Were you truly?”

“So, the alcove attendants attested. I do not recall the matter,” Lilian says dismissively. She lacks not reverence. She is far too pragmatic to give much credence to the shrines’ obsession with unsubstantiated manifestations.

“It is no wonder that they dedicated you immediately. Perhaps the Warleader did summon you. Certainly, it is well that your patron force is known for extended combat.” For all his teasing, Chrys is serious. Considering his friend’s trial, a deity renowned for endurance is a positive.

***

The Twelve Systems Chronicles have won numerous awards: three Paranormal Guild Reviewers’ Choice Awards, five RONE Finalists, and Shield Bearer received the 2021 RONE for Science Fiction. All ten volumes are available in both e-book and paperback, with the e-book available on multiple platforms.  

Purchase links: https://egmanetti.com/the-twelve-systems-chronicles/

EG Manetti

WHERE DUTY AND PASSION COLLIDE  

www.egmanetti.com

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CAPTIVE (The SurvivalRace, book 1) - CHAPTER 28

Last week's episode ended with Max trying to make sure Addy will be taken care of after he leaves her behind in the Tuniit village. Little does he know that Regan is on the hunt for him and Addy and, as you'll see in today's episode, isn't far behind.

 

An abducted cop and a gladiator prisoner must learn to trust each other with their lives…and their hearts…to escape their alien captors.    

Catch up reading on CAPTIVE here for free: Chapter 1  Ch 2  Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6  Ch 7  Ch 8  Ch 9  Chs 10&11  Ch 12  Ch 13  Ch 14  Ch 15  Ch 16  Ch 17  Ch 18  Ch 19  Ch 20  Ch21  Ch22  Chs 23&24  Chs 25&26  Ch27

 

CAPTIVE

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Regan knew exactly where he’d start his search. The conduit system to his left, engulfed by steam and darkness, away from the stench of the main incinerator plant, and out of view of the control booths made a perfect hideout. Now if only Ferly Mor would stop talking to these damn workers and unleash him, he’d get on with his job.

The gray Hyborean reached down to unhook Duncan’s leash before his own. It’s about damn time.

“Where are ye headed, lad?” Duncan called from behind.

Regan didn’t answer. Why the hell did Ferly Mor bring Gramps anyway? The old guy had been pissing him off since they left HuBReC with his nonstop talk and nervous behavior.

It agitated him. And he hated being agitated.

If they hadn’t been with a master all day, he’d have decked the old man hours ago.

As Duncan followed him through the maze of steam pipes, Regan thought about slugging him here, but through the white fog, something caught his attention: an unsightly structure of wood, metal, and other scraps pieced together to form a little hovel. This shit hole was the work of human hands.

A twinge of disappointment shot through him. Surely it wouldn’t be this easy. He would have preferred a challenge. Something to sharpen his skills for the survival race.

He reached for his sword but felt smooth thermal suit. Ferly Mor hadn’t armed him with a weapon. It didn’t matter. His hands were lethal.

He slunk to the shack and touched the doorknob.

“Shouldn’t ye knock first, Regan?” Duncan shouted.

Regan turned his annoyed glare on the old man. “Why would you give up our element of surprise?”

Duncan’s shifty eyes looked everywhere but at him.

“Uh-huh. Thought so.”

“Just dinna hurt the lass.”

His pathetic pleading boiled Regan’s blood. Redirecting that energy, he forced down the door.

A thin, old man in ratty clothes jumped from his chair, a book in hand. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“You see a girl? This tall,” Regan held up his hand to his chest, “long hair, pregnant, and a body that screams ‘fuck me.’”

The old guy looked from Regan to Duncan then back to Regan with distrustful eyes. “There’s no one here.” The man clutched his book in both hands. “I live alone.”

“She was with a man. Dark hair, weird green eyes, scrawny ex-gladiator. They escaped HuBReC in a garbage truck.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nobody’s been through here.”

“Do you know who I am?” Most people trembled when he sneered. This guy didn’t. Dumbass.

“I know your type.”

“Then stand out of my way while I search this dump.” Regan strode through the tiny one-room shack, taking in the knickknacks, books, decorative weapons, and kitchen knives hanging on the wall. “What’s behind this door?”

“Bathing room.”

Regan ordered Duncan to keep an eye on the scrawny old man while he checked the bathing room.

“Have ye seen the lass?” Duncan asked. “Her name is Addy. Is she well?”

“What did these folks do to warrant a posse?”

Regan stepped back into the living space. “That’s not your concern.”

“Well, I haven’t seen anyone in months. You say they escaped in a garbage truck? Supposin’ those two fools got themselves incinerated?”

The whiskey bottle on the counter ignited red-hot anger in his veins. He punched the old-timer in the jaw. The man sailed through a stack of books before crashing to the floor.

“Regan, are ye mad? What’s gotten into ye, lad?”

Grabbing the tattered man’s neck and waistband, he heaved him from the floor and into a wall. “I hate liars.”

Duncan gripped his shoulder to stop him, earning him a hard shove. “Stay out of this, Gramps.” He turned his attention back to the worthless piece of shit. “Tell me where they are, and I’ll let you live.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I don’t know these people.”

If the old-timer’s rapid blinking and sweaty temples didn’t give him away, the scent of fear oozing out with his blood did. Inhaling the glorious scent, adrenaline exploded, awakening Regan’s inner beast.

“Perhaps you need your memory jogged.” Twice more he punched him in the head.

“Stop, lad. He said he doesna know.”

Regan let go. The man slid down the wall and crumpled to the floor.

“Oh, but he does.” Regan crouched and used the man’s ratty shirt to wipe the blood from his knuckles. “I won’t let up until you tell me what I want to hear.”

The man hacked, and then spat in his face.

Instead of wiping it off, he beat the crap out of him until the body went limp.

Breathing hard and pumped up, every fiber in his body tingled. He felt awesome. Powerful. Alive. Life didn’t get better than this.

Duncan paced the tiny room. He wiped sweat from his brow. “Is he dead?”

“Do you care?” Why the hell did he have to babysit the old coward?

“Regan, this is no’ the survival race. You canna go around killing innocent people.”

“The hell I can’t. Your master wanted an alpha gladiator to track the female and the loser who took her. If he didn’t want me to do things my way, he would have just brought you. Of course, you couldn’t find your dick with two hands and a lightstick.”

“Hrumph. Well, how are they going to be found now? Ye clobbered the man. Ye dinna find out if they were even here. They could have been incinerated. They could have escaped from the dump truck. They could have come through the plant but never seen this man.”

“Shut up. Do you know why I haven’t killed you yet?”

“Ye keep telling me it’s because I make the finest whiskey in the universe.”

“You mean this?” Regan snatched the bottle off the counter and threw it to Duncan who caught it clumsily.

He examined the bottle, eyes widening. “This is my mark etched into the glass.”

“How do you think this asshole got it?”

“Addy.” He closed his eyes and hugged the bottle. “Ye were here, lass.”

Regan rolled his eyes before squatting next to his victim. Fisting the bloody man’s white hair, he jerked his head off the floor. “Where are they?”

“Please,” Duncan rushed over to the man. “The lass may be in grave danger.”

Could Duncan be any more annoying? The way he carried on, you’d think they were looking for Tess.

“They left.” The old man gasped for breath. “Through the cooling vents. I don’t know where to. They wouldn’t tell me.”

“See, was that so hard?” Regan let go, and the old man’s head dropped to the floor with a thud. He turned to Duncan. “Take the bottle to your master. I’m sure he’ll recognize it and know we’re on the right track. I’m going to check out the cooling vents.”

Regan stepped over the mess that was the old man and followed Duncan out of the house, but not before stuffing a kitchen knife into his boot.

#

Uh oh. Will Regan or his master know to search the Tunitt village? If so, Will Max or Addy still be there? Find out in next week's episode Chapter 29 or read the full story now at your favorite retailers.

 

K.M. FAWCETT 

Romance with a rebel heart  

www.kmfawcett.com

 

 

 

The Shell and the Star - Part 23

This is the second excerpt for this week (making up for skipping last week) of my aquatic SFR being offered here as a free read. 

If you're just tuning in this week, you can scroll down below this post to read yesterday's many faceted portion or, if you're just tuning in for the first time, to see the link to read everything posted to date on a separate page.

For those who read yesterday's jarring episode and are jumping back to catch today's excerpt...things are about to go from worse to really worse. 

CHAPTER EIGHT

"What have you done?” Her father’s anguish cut straight to Jinn’s heart. It was the same question she’d demanded of herself a hundred times since she’d left on the transport from Perling to Talstar. Home didn’t bring the comfort she craved, only an emptiness that wouldn’t be soothed. She’d only meant to ask Trey for more time, not understanding that her precise words in his culture were uttered to reject a bid. To reject the bidder.

She shouldn’t have wavered. She should never have doubted. She’d been too weak to find the courage within her to embrace the future he offered.

“I only meant to ask for time. I didn’t understand the meaning in my words,” Jinn cried. She couldn’t forget the look of pain in Trey’s eyes at the wound she’d inflicted. She felt the stab of guilt like a knife to her heart each time she relived that moment in her mind. Doubt was a monster more vicious even than the tentacled beast who’d tried to destroy Trey. She’d only finished what the Razortooth couldn’t.

“Why didn’t you counsel me? Why didn’t you warn me not to speak those words?”

He fixed her with a glare, his jaw muscles flexing. “I didn’t know, Jinn. Even I was not privy to the Perling bonding rituals. Why didn’t you try to make this right?”

“I did!” Jinn took her head in her hands. “I begged audience with the Imperator and Trey to explain it was only a misunderstanding born of my ignorance about their customs. His Excellency denied my request. Wouldn’t allow me to enter his manor. Wouldn’t allow me to speak to Trey. He sent guards to deliver my Notice of Banishment and those same guards escorted me promptly back to the transfer station to take the next flight home.”

In the two days since her return she’d sat at the portal in her compartment, staring down at the blue oceans of Veros, and longing for the one she’d left behind. Longing to hear his voice. Longing to hold his strong hands and look into his calming eyes. Longing for everything they could no longer share. The cold ball of despair in her gut stole away her appetite, her sleep…her will to go on.

“The Imperator has expressed his anger at your rejection of his son’s bid. At the insistence of their Conclave of Elders, he has severed our trade agreement. We will all live with the consequences now. And perhaps die with them. Both Talstar and Perling could perish from your selfish act.”

“Selfish? I only was asking for more time.”

“Why more time? Did you find the Imperator’s second son undesirable? Questionable as a prospect?”

“No.” Jinn stared at the hands she had clenched in her lap. “He is more than desirable. He is…perfect. Kind. Considerate. Intelligent. But how were we to live? I can’t live my life underwater, can’t exist in a bubble with a limited battery life. And he wouldn’t be happy here on Talstar.”

“How do you know?”

Picturing his blue and beautiful world, she muttered, “I know.”

“Jinn.” Her father shook his head. “While you were gone, our scientists completed work on an apparatus that would have allowed you to breathe in their world by pulling oxygen from the sea water just as some sea creatures do. You would have no longer have needed to rely solely on your envirosphere. You could have been as one of them. Lived as one with them.”

Jinn stared at him. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Why didn’t you trust me? Of course I’m aware of the challenges the two of you would face in making a life together. I’ve been working on a solution since the bid was extended to you.”

“If only I’d known.”

“If only you hadn’t acted so rashly.”

“It was never my intention to reject Trey!”

“Your intentions mean nothing now. In the eyes of the Perling, you have spurned the Imperator’s second son. And now we will all face the fallout.” Her father paused, his looming silence telling Jinn that he had more to say, and she sensed by the weight of his stare that his words would further crush her faltering heart. “There is one hope that the Imperator’s wrath will be short-lived and the gash you sliced in our partnership will be healed. Word has come that the second son has offered a bid to a Perling female. She has accepted.”

Jinn’s heart seized. Her world spun out of orbit and plunged into a black abyss. Trey—her Trey—had bid for another? She covered her mouth to muffle a quiet sob. “How can this be true?”

“He had no choice in it. In their culture, a male who has bid and been rejected is considered an outcast, an undesirable. The Imperator made quick arrangements to ensure his second son wasn’t shunned by Perling society.” Her father turned his head to stare out the viewport. “Trey and his chosen bride will complete their bond before the midtide falls in ten turnings of their world.”

“No!” Jinn pressed her fists to her stomach. Trey in the arms of another? Touching, holding, mating with her—bonded until death? Was this the price she would pay for hesitation? Was it the price she deserved to pay for not believing in him and their future?

But what of his feelings for her? Did they mean nothing now? She had to know if this bid was his own. His own choice. His own desire.

She must know.

Jinn raised her teary eyes from the warm sea far below. “I need to go to him.”

Her father’s voice went cold and sharp as a steel blade. “I forbid it! Your rejection was final. I will not allow you to bring further dishonor to your people by another impetuous act. You made your choice by not making it! You will not return to Veros and risk making matters worse than they already are. Not ever.”

***

Twenty marks separated her father’s harsh declaration from the moment Jinn overrode the docking clamps and commandeered a shuttle for the Perling sea. Defying her father’s orders meant she could never return to Talstar. Now lacking a home, family or future, she hurtled downward, hoping that somehow she could find a way to right this terrible wrong.

She clutched the breathing device she held in her hands. Not only was she blatantly defying her father’s command, she’d become a thief by stealing the breather from the science lab.

The Star had a word for such a person.

Outlaw.

______________________________________

The once shy, sheltered Jinn has just learned that sometimes you have to fight for what you love, no matter the cost.

But where will this wild quest lead her? Does she have any hope of repairing the damage that's been done...or is it already too late?

Thanks for reading and as always feel free to comment on the story. I plan to be back next Monday with Part 24!

It's Here! Pets in Space® 5 has Launched!

You know it must be October when the NEWEST Pets in Space collection arrives. 

And, yes. It's heeeeere!

PETS IN SPACE® 5

It’s time for an escape! Pets in Space® 5 is back for the fifth amazing year! Escape to new worlds with twelve of today’s top Science Fiction Romance authors. They have written 12 original, never-before-released stories filled with action, adventure, suspense, humor, and romance that will take you out of this world. The giving doesn’t stop there. For the fifth year, Pets in Space® will be donating a portion of the first month proceeds to Hero-Dogs.org, a non-profit charity that supports our veterans and First Responders. If you are ready to forget the world around you and make a difference while you are having fun, grab your copy before it’s gone!

OUR CHARITY: HERO-DOGS.ORG

Proud supporters of Hero-Dogs.org, Pets in Space® authors have donated over $15,300 in the past four years to help place specially trained dogs with veterans and first responders. 10% of all pre-orders and the first month’s royalties of Pets in Space® 5 will again go to Hero-Dogs.org. Open your hearts and grab your limited release copy of Pets in Space® 5 today so together we can continue to assist this worthy charity! 

https://www.hero-dogs.org/ 

MORE ABOUT PETS IN SPACE® 5

This volume includes twelve new stories from a dozen different ongoing science fiction romance series! The stories generally range from novella to novel length (so it will keep you in great reading for quite some time!) written by the following science fiction romance authors: S.E. Smith, Michelle Diener, Veronica Scott, Pauline Baird Jones, Laurie A. Green, Carol Van Natta, Regine Abel, Alexis Glynn Latner, JC Hay, Kyndra Hatch, Cassandra Chandler and Leslie Chase.

Ready to grab your copy? You can find Pets in Space® 5 here:

AMAZON   |   AMAZON UK   |   AMAZON CA

AMAZON AU   |   KOBO   |   APPLE BOOKS

NOOK   |   GOOGLEPLAY

Enjoy the adventures!

#PetsInSpace #AmReading

Limited Run! Just Released! Get it While it's HOT!

SEE ALL VENDOR LINKS AND STORY BLURBS HERE

The vagaries of genre or where does my book fit?

Laurie's recent post about science fiction romance as a genre resonated with me. I sometimes wonder how big the market is for stories like mine. I can't in all conscience adorn my covers with beautiful male chests, although I'll admit I did try it, a long time ago. (See left) I suspect it worked, too, because readers at least read the blurb. But over time, my stories have become less explicit when it comes to sex, and I believe lots of man-titty signals explicit sex. On the flame scale, I wouldn't put my books at more than 2-3. They're not fade to black when the bedroom door closes, but you wouldn't want to use them as a 'how to'.

Science fiction is such a hard genre to define and the merge with fantasy is unavoidable. We write about 'science' that does not exist. It may in the future, but it's impossible now. Artificial gravity, forms of faster-than-light travel, advanced artificial intelligence, lifelike avatars, alien beings - the list goes on. It's not magic. We don't have magic in our SF worlds. But we can have shifters, vampires, strange alien psi powers and the like. Anything, really - as long as we claim a scientific explanation.

Anne McCaffrey's much-loved Pern series is one that has often been poo-pooed by the SF purists. It has dragons and mental telepathy, so it's fantasy. But the dragons are genetically engineered local species, with powers that evolved so the little fire lizards could escape the ravages of thread. Somebody once described the dragons as an ecologically sustainable air force. I like that. As far as I'm concerned, that's SF, not fantasy. As we say in the copyright notice on our books, "any resemblance to any person (or animal) is purely coincidental".

I actually find it harder to fit the romance half of the title. I'd be much more comfortable being in Science Fiction - romance. Genre, you see. It’s all about marketing. Into which pigeonhole does this book fit? I had some fun drawing a diagram to illustrate some of the complexities of genre.

 Some genres are pretty easy. In romance, the romance must be the focus of the plot, and it must have a happy ever after (HEA) ending or a happy for now (HFN) ending. I talked about the rules of romance here. But every genre has ‘shades of grey’ (yeah, yeah). Science fiction ranges between hard SF and soft SF. I discussed that here. On the hard SF – soft SF line, I’d put most space opera sort of in the middle. Star Wars and Star Trek would definitely be down the soft SF end, McDevitt’s books would be down the hard SF end. Romance has its continuum, too, often expressed in degrees of ‘heat’ (ie explicit sex scenes). In ‘sweet’ romance, the scene stops at the bedroom door. In erotic romance, the sex is explicit.

Now we get to science fiction romance, which is a combination of two genres. The SCIENCE romance – ROMANCE science line indicates what is the most important focus of the work. Would we have a story without the romance? Would we have a story without the science? I would suggest that real SFR should be down the science ROMANCE end – I think Avatar is a good example. Without the romance, there is no story. And in Avatar the explicitness of the sex component is most definitely ‘sweet’. Interestingly enough, one of McCaffrey’s early works, Restoree, is listed in science fiction. Yet Restoree is without a doubt science fiction romance, with a ‘sweet’ tag on the sex register. So SFR has been around for a while, mixed in with SF. But there isn't a lot. When I went looking, Linnea Sinclair's books were in romance, not SF.

It’s a pretty complex combination of components.

When I started writing, I knew I’d write SF because that’s what I like. But I wanted to add a bit of emotion to my writing. Most SF either seemed to leave out love and sex (Asimov), or it was so understated that it almost disappeared. An example of the latter is Moon’s Serrano series. SF was pulp fiction, with an expectation that it was fast-paced action-adventure. A response to a query I sent to a publisher around 2008 reinforced that belief. “Well written, but needs more action.” So I added more action. Still no cigar.

Okay, what about science fiction romance? Ah, but most SFR books are in the romance section. This has an advantage in one way, because romance sales are way, way more than SF. But it seems only a small subset of romance readers will read SF. Moreover, the expectation for the romance genre is that the romance is the core of the book. No romance, no story. I can honestly say that not one of my books fits that definition. Of them all, the Iron Admiral duo come closest and even with those two I had to do some serious tweaking for my editor to agree it had earned a romance tag.

We are told that sticking to one genre when writing is a good idea. And it makes sense. With that in mind, I resolved to write SFR, albeit with less emphasis on the romance.

What’s the outcome? Well, if you’re looking for a fast-paced, action-packed read with a complex plot – come on in, sit right down. Would you like to call that pulp fiction? Sure. Will there be some emotional elements, some sex? Sure. Love is a powerful emotion, sex is a fundamental driving force. You’ll find those things in everything I write. Do I do my research? You bet I do. I try to make my science sound, my history correct, my settings convincing. I suppose, when it comes right down to it, I’d prefer to see my books in the science fiction section. Both they, and I, feel more comfortable there - but SF is still not comfortable with soppy emotion. Just as well I don't have to pay a mortgage with my earnings.