NEW KDP A+ CONTENT BOOSTS BOOK PAGE

Those of us who are self-published (which is almost everybody I know in science fiction romance) will look for just about any opportunity to advertise and sell our books without spending a lot of money. So when such a chance comes along from a major marketplace AND it happens to be FREE, well, I, for one, am not going to pass it by.

I’m referring to KDP’s A+ Content, offered for any books you list through KDP on Amazon. With A+ Content, you can produce graphics for your book’s sales page on Amazon using photos; quotes from your book; reviews from major publications, review services, or well-known fellow authors; or any other kind of promotional material you can think of (that meets KDP guidelines).

I used several photos I already had in my files, including some that were used for my paperbacks’ back covers, and, using the A+ Content module software, added quotes from the books in overlays. In other modules, I highlighted review quotes that had only been in the front pages of my books before. You can add several different modules and mix and match to suit your needs and style. It helps to have some experience with putting together computer graphics, but if you can do a blog post or work with simple PDF editing, you can easily do this.

Screenshot of A+ Content for Fools Rush In: Interstellar Rescue Book 3

The book sales pages already had a spot to add a video, but producing a trailer is an expensive proposition, and I don’t consider myself to be a particularly brilliant salesperson onscreen. So, I’ve never taken advantage of that feature. The A+ Content, though, is easy to do and adds a visual punch to each page that’s unique to each book.

Whether it will help sales remains to be seen, but surely it can’t hurt. Try it, you may like it!

Cheers, Donna

Meet the decidedly non-humanoid Ptorix

 

I've always had a problem with humanoid aliens. So many 'aliens' in SF stories look an awful lot like us. Star Trek was full of them - Romulans, Vulcans, Gods and Goddesses. At least in Star Wars some aliens were downright weird - but an awful lot of them had the same basic body shape as us - one head, two legs, two arms.

I'm willing to accept that humans who have naturalised on different planets may well develop different characteristics. After all, that's how natural selection works. An animal that has a mutation that helps it to function better in a new environment is most likely to pass on said characteristic to its offspring. So, humans on a large world with greater gravity may evolve to be stronger and heavier than humans who evolve in lighter gravity. We can look at dolphins which were once land animals that went back to the sea.

Laurie Green's serialized story, The Shell and the Star, is all about the process of natural selection to suit very different conditions. If you haven't read it yet, here's the link to Part 1.

When I dipped my toe into the science fiction pool I wanted aliens - but real aliens with very different characteristics to humans even when they lived on similar planets.

It's important here to make the point that we're talking about technological aliens. I'm sure we'll find intelligent species elsewhere, much like we have species on Earth with very alien capabilities, such as dolphins and ravens. But I don't see either of them heading for the stars any time soon. So the aliens in my Ptorix Empire series are technologically advanced beings who have been capable of space travel for a long time, and who originated from similar environments to that found on Earth. (ie gravity, atmosphere, temperature and the like)

But first, let me tell you what they look like.

The Ptorix are essentially conical in shape, something they exaggerate with their clothing. They have no neck and the head ends in a dome. The body is covered in short blue fur. Their four arms end in a number of tentacles which can be deployed in a variety of ways. Think of a sea anemone and you've about got it right. They have four short legs but these are usually hidden beneath their robes. Three eyes which change color according to mood are located almost equidistant around the top of the head, enabling a Ptorix to see almost the whole way around its body without moving. They have two 'mouths', one – resembling a proboscis – for eating, the other for breathing and speaking. So from a human viewpoint, they're pretty weird.

Now let's go talk to Professor Xanthor, a noted expert on Human-Ptorix relations. I found him in his study, resting on a platform at his desk (the Ptorix don't sit down). Eyes swirling orange, tentacles moving gently, he welcomed me in and directed me to a human chair. Note: the eye color depends on the frequency of the radiation they emit – so red, being a longer frequency, is total calm, whereas violet is anger.

Good morning, Professor. Thanks so much for your time. I appreciate that the Ptorix have spread from their Galactic arm throughout much of the Galaxy. But do you know which world they originally came from?

Well now. The original home of the Ptorix is lost in time. It has taken the Khophirate, what you call an Empire, many thousands of years to expand to its greatest extent – and, as you know, to contract to its current size.  But there is speculation, of course. For your audience, suffice to say it was a planet like this one – suitable for you humans as well as Ptorix, with water, similar air and gravity and so on.

What can you tell me about your very early ancestors?
Oh, I think just looking at us will give some answers. The Ptorix were originally prey animals. This is why we have such wonderful eyesight. We can see anything around us unless it is directly behind us and we see much more of the light spectrum than you do. We lived in caves during the day and ventured forth at night to forage, while the large predators slept, so seeing infrared and ultra violet light helped us to survive.

So what changed?
How did we become dominant? (His tentacles lashed a little and his eyes swirled through yellow and green – thoughtful) We had the advantage of a large brain, which we needed to process the image from our eyes. And we had our tentacles. We could make weapons at first to defend ourselves from the predators and later to kill other animals for food. We found, too, that living in cooperative family groups made us more powerful, even against the largest predator.

We had always been scavengers, living on the remains of flesh killed by others. (He rubbed at his proboscis) We Ptorix find it strange that humans eat solid flesh. Please forgive me. We find it disgusting and so inefficient. We wait until the flesh has softened enough for us to suck up the nutrients. Of course, this is done with chemical additives, now. Only the best restaurants let the flesh putrefy of its own accord.

However, we were nothing if not adaptable. We learned to find other foods, modify our diet for different environments and eventually, different worlds.

But back to our ancestors on their first world. Soon enough, they ran out of natural caves to live in and were forced to build new dwellings. Even now, after all these centuries, we build homes that look like caves. (He waved an arm, taking in the curved walls of his office, the eye-watering decorations and the stalactite-like embellishments in the ceiling which emitted soft light).

I'm often asked about your family arrangements, Professor? (I wanted to ask about sex – but that's not something the Ptorix discuss)
That has changed over the years. I suppose with many species, including your own, the young have a long learning period and therefore they stay with the family for a long time. In the past, the males would protect the females, who raised the young. Many more males were killed than females so each male became responsible for groups of dependent females. In these more settled times only the very rich and powerful males like the Khophir support large groups of females. (His eyes glowed green) I am content with one. But we still live communally, with underground tunnels connecting dwellings of blood-related relatives.

As for children – this is something else we Ptorix find strange about humans. I understand the infant grows inside the female and then is expelled from the body at a certain stage of growth. I have seen this process on vids. It looks extremely painful. Our young develop in the mother's pouch; no pain, you see. My wife told me that if having children was so painful, the Ptorix would have died out long ago.

So there you have it. The Ptorix in a nutshell. I can't see a Human-Ptorix romance anytime soon. (I suppose tentacle sex might be possible – but not written by me)

You'll find my Ptorix Empire books on my website. Please note the first book (The Iron Admiral: Conspiracy) is free.

Amid rising inter-species tensions, brilliant systems Engineer Allysha Marten takes one last job to rid her of debts and her cheating husband. On the mysterious planet Tisyphor a security guard wins her trust and her affection. Together, they uncover a plot that threatens to plunge the Galaxy into inter-species war. As they scramble to prevent the coming holocaust, Allysha is horrified to learn that her new lover is ex-Admiral Chaka Saahren, the man the Ptorix call Chozhu the Destroyer, the man responsible for the death of her father, along with millions of other innocent civilians.

In a race against time, Saahren must convince Allysha to set aside her conflicted emotions about him to help him prevent the coming conflagration. And perhaps while he’s doing that, he’ll win back the only woman he’s ever loved.

Pick your favourite vendor.

 

CAPTIVE (The Survival Race, book 1) - CHAPTER 4

 I hope you're enjoying these weekly installments of my alien abduction science fiction romance, CAPTIVE. If you've missed the first three installments you can find them here:

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three.

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

 

CAPTIVE

Chapter Four 

  

Addy screamed. At least she tried screaming, but when her mouth opened, no sound came out.

The smoke swirled and crackled as it solidified back into a solid wall once again. She was alone. Hyperventilating.

Head between her knees, she tried controlling her breathing but couldn’t concentrate. What was that thing? It single-handedly dragged out a six-foot-two-inch, two-hundred-pound man like a pair of old jeans stuffed in the back of a closet.

And it pulled him through a wall that turned into fog then back into a wall again!

A deep inhale through the nose filled her lungs, tightening her chest. She held the breath for three counts before slowly exhaling out the mouth. After a few more deep breaths, she could lift her head without feeling nauseous.

The urge to run was overwhelming. Seeing as there wasn’t enough space, she did the next best thing. Careful to avoid breakfast puddles, Addy paced back and forth across the tiny room, unable to quiet her rapid-fire questions. What was going on? What grabbed Max? An animal? A monster? What would it do with him?

Her heart skipped a couple of beats. Her breathing came fast and shallow again. If the cult murdered him, it would be her fault.

No. Not her fault. She had done nothing except defend herself. But her actions triggered his outburst, which led to that furry arm-thing taking him away. His death would be on her conscious.

Stop it, Dawson.

None of this was real. It had to be a conspiracy. Maybe she was in one of those human behavior experiments. Like that authority study where scientists made unsuspecting volunteers believe they were administering painful shock treatments to other volunteers who gave wrong answers.

But that couldn’t be. There were laws against things like that. Of course, that was back in the States. Max said they weren’t in the US, and he used the word alien.

She paced again.

What about the other word he shouted? Earthling. Who described themselves as an Earthling? What the hell did he mean by that?

She stared at the disappearing-reappearing wall. It had to have been a smoke-and-mirrors trick.

Pulling her hair back, she clumsily twisted it into a braid, hoping the rhythm of it would help calm her nerves. What if it wasn’t a trick? What if alien didn’t refer to another country?

Could it be true?

Slowly, she lowered her body to the floor with thoughts of vanishing walls, tiny heating cubes, flowerpot toilets, perfectly cylindrical wood that ignited without aid, and delicate yet indestructible shock collars.

Don’t forget the enormous, furry arm, which had only four fingers!

She smacked her cheeks, hoping the sting would arrest this nonsensical thought. The guy was obviously a mental patient, and she had been sucked into his delusion. How she wound up in the same room as him, she had no idea.

There had to be a logical explanation. There’s no way she was on another planet. Sorry. Not considering that as a possibility. After all, she had to keep her sanity in order to figure out how to escape. But still, that one word haunted her.

Why would he say Earthling?

Who the heck knew, but she wasn’t about to waste more time trying to figure it out. Eventually that thing would come back.

No shadows moved outside the walls. Addy scooted across the sticky floor to where the creature had entered. A door was hidden here somewhere. She had to find it and get it open. Pressing her hands flat against the wall, she pushed upward hoping it would retract into the ceiling like a garage door. Her sweaty palms slid. The wall didn’t budge.

She tried pushing it downward. Then to the left. To the right. Diagonally in four different directions, but not a damn thing worked.

There had to be a way to open the door.

She rubbed her hands over the fire. Heat seeped into them, evaporating the sweat before the next try. Wait a minute. The wood.

She grabbed the last remaining log and stuck one end in the fire. It ignited. Then, carrying it like the Olympic torch, she padded between sticky, gooey breakfast blotches, stopping to kneel and peer inside the water pitcher.

Empty. Damn.

She faced the hidden doorway again, and took a deep breath. She’d either burn a hole through it and escape, or she’d catch everything on fire and kill herself.

Well, better a suicidal escape plan than homicide by a baby-selling cult.

Heart racing, she inched toward the wall, praying she wasn’t destined to die in a fire after all. She licked dry lips then touched the flame to the door. When it didn’t ignite, she exhaled and breathed normally...well, as normally as one could when worrying about the plastic-looking material emitting noxious fumes.

Exactly how long she torched the door, she couldn’t say, but enough time passed to warrant a peek. Lowering the torch, she squinted, blinked, and then wiped her eyes. Nothing had happened. There wasn’t even a brown burn mark.

She touched the door with a finger. Three fingers. Her palm. It was warm and solid.

What kind of material doesn’t burn? Or melt? Or get hot? Deflated, she tossed the log in the fireplace, which was made out of the same heat-resistant material as the walls, ceiling, and floor. At least she had tried.

Now what—sit here and wait for that thing to come back? Her stomach roiled at the thought. Max said there was no way out. She hated to admit it, but he was right.

The wall burst into fog again. Addy jumped up and sprinted to the back of the room, cursing herself for not keeping that last log for a weapon.

The gray creature stuck its enormous head and shoulders into the room. She wouldn’t have been able to beat the monster. She needed her firearm. Too bad it was at the bottom of the Klamath River.

The monster reached with both of its four-fingered hands. She jumped to the side, cornering herself. It caught her around the waist, pulled her out, and cradled her like a small child in its furry arms.

Her terrorized heart lodged in her throat, blocking her screams.

The humanoid creature stood at least ten feet tall. Dense yet neatly groomed gray fur covered its entire body except for the black leathery pads of its hands, lips, and flat nose. Eyes like black beads shone colorfully iridescent, like an oil spill.

The monster looked like he could be Bigfoot’s cousin.

The beast exposed its teeth, and her heart skipped more beats than was healthy. Its undersized mouth housed broad, flat, closely grouped teeth typical of herbivores. It didn’t have the ability to eat her. Her heart started again.

Wriggling and pushing did nothing to break the creature’s grasp. Mighty arms held her firm against its thickly padded chest, though not tight enough to hurt.

Was it murmuring or purring? She couldn’t tell with the sound of terror drumming in her ears. She wanted to throw up and felt her stomach contract.

It stroked her hair as if trying to soothe her. A shroud of calmness lay over her. She could sense it but couldn’t feel it inside her body. The calm came from someplace else. The monster?

It turned and carried her away from three stacks of two huge, transparent boxes…er, cages. Three other couples were trapped inside. Though they didn’t appear to mind.

The creature—walking surprisingly graceful for its height—carried her down a long corridor and through a monstrous doorway into what looked like an examining room complete with a cold table upon which she was placed. Another large, furry humanoid creature, the color of wet sand, moved around the room preparing for something.

Oh God. They may not have canine teeth, but there was nothing to stop them from dicing her up and boiling her in soup.

She inhaled deeply, smelling that same pungent cleanser odor from the pitcher. It was reminiscent of a sterile hospital. Was this a lab? Was she a specimen for dissection?

As soon as the gray creature released her, she jumped from the table, ignoring the shooting pain in her ankles and sprinted for the open doorway. The air crackled before the fog began to swirl, signaling its change into a solid wall. She had to reach it before—

A powerful hand caught her ankle. If she hadn’t braced for the fall, the floor would have broken her nose. The creature brought her back to the table.

Addy kicked. Screamed. Thrashed her body. If this were the end, she’d leave this world like she came in—fighting.

A pinprick in her thigh sent cool fluid rushing into her bloodstream.

Her body grew light, as if gravity loosened its grasp and released her into space. She stopped yelling. Not because she wanted to, but because she couldn’t.

Get up and run, dammit.

Her muscles wouldn’t obey.

She blinked heavy lids. The room blurred.

The creature released his grip. She couldn’t move. They had drugged her, and she could do nothing more than close her eyes and await death.

 

#

 

I hope you enjoyed Chapter Four of CAPTIVE (The Survival Race, book 1). Click here for Chapter 5. Or find the entire story at these stores:  Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. 

Stay safe out there!

K.M. FAWCETT

Romance with a rebel heart

www.kmfawcett.com

 

 

 

 

Boldly Sewing...

One of the many things that has suffered over the past few years is my cosplaying. Obviously with COVID, conventions were a big no-no, and even when things started opening up again, I was cautious. Weight gain during lockdown meant I wasn't willing to go for my big planned cosplay even with NorCon upcoming, and time was an issue too. So I hadn't done anything in a while.

But with my HRT seeming to help a bit and another handful of masks under my belt, I felt ready and able to progress to something more adventurous. First thing on the agenda was clearing my sewing space so I could actually use it. The Christmas holiday had given me time to clear away the junk stacked in front of my sewing cupboard, but not to sort it. With spring half-term and a spate of rain followed by storms Dudley, Eunice, and Franklin making outdoor activities (beyond storm prep and then repair) a definite no, I had zero excuse. I also inherited a better chair from youngest (who inherited a better one from middle child, who got a new one). My sewing cupboard and the storage above were sorted, labelled, and ready for some action. 

Patterns sorted into separate sci-fi and fantasy collections. There is also one of 'normal' patterns.

I'd had a request for a commission, but brain fog and lack of enthusiasm meant I'd shied away from the task despite buying the fabric. 

Time to bite the bullet, even if the client might have changed their mind by now. I discovered that one of my cats likes chewing pattern paper. The other likes to roll herself in my fabric, then claw her way out. Neither were activities I was happy about. Despite that, I did manage to get everything cut out and marked up by the end. 

I'm now back at work so don't have the luxury of time to spend all day on this project, but at least it's finally in motion. And it's good to be creating again.