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 Survival Race, book 1) - CHAPTER 27

Last week's episode ended with alpha gladiator Regan finding a clue as to how Max and Addy escaped. Now the hunt begins. Meanwhile, our fearless couple spends time in the Tuniit village. Max is on a mission to protect Addy. But is leaving her behind the best option for keeping her safe? 

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 

 

CAPTIVE

Chapter Twenty-Seven

With every step Addy and Max took inside the village, the scent of black licorice grew stronger. Though no one had bothered them so far, almost every Hyborean outside had glanced their way as they passed. Addy’s heart rate increased. Her hands itched to reach out and take hold of Max’s arm. She refused to do it though. She would not let him know she was scared.

Especially since he radiated confidence.

Energy and vitality emanated from him. He hadn’t drawn his sword or adjusted his baldric like he often did. He simply strutted by the houses, chest puffed and arms slightly away from his sides like a gunfighter in what must have been his relaxed ready-to-fight stance.

She prayed she didn’t have to see his battle stance.

The Hyboreans had left them alone to enter the center of the village where people, dressed hood to boot in fur, gathered in a crowd around them, speaking a strange language.

Addy plastered on a smile and nodded. “Hello.”

One young woman stepped forward. The glossy animal hair fringing her hooded parka blew in the wind. “Why High People come to Tuniit village?” she asked, not unfriendly.

“I’m looking for Kaskae,” Max said.

“Who you?”

“Suinnak Tiglikte.”

She smirked, eyeing him up and down. “Nukka,” she called. A girl of about eight came to her side, and the young woman spoke to her in the native language. The little girl nodded before pushing her way out through the crowd.

“Suinnak...?” Addy whispered to Max, trying to pronounce the unfamiliar words.

“Tiglikte. It’s what their leader calls me.”

“What does it mean?”

His grin beamed proudly. “‘Good-for-nothing thief.’”

“Glad to know you made an impression last time.”

While they waited, more Tuniit people gathered around them, speaking in low whispers. Children pointed at their tight, spandex-like thermal suits and giggled. Addy shifted on her feet and forced herself to keep smiling.

It seemed like forever before the crowd parted, permitting a man Addy assumed was their chief into their surrounding circle.

“Max.” He extended his gloved hand. “Why you come to peaceful village?”

Max shook the chief’s hand. “Refuge.”

“Again?”

“Yes, but this time I’m in better company.” Max wrapped his arm around Addy’s shoulders and pushed her forward. “She needs food. She’s—”

“Ahnah. Feed this woman.”

Obediently, the young woman who first spoke to them stepped into the circle. “What your name?”

“Addy.”

“Come, Addy. Eat.” Ahnah led her away from Max and the crowd, and they ducked into a domed icehouse. The temperature change was instant and dramatic. Who knew a house made of ice and snow could be this toasty? Compared to the little ice shelters they’d slept in over the past five nights, Ahnah’s home was a cozy five-star resort.

Light from a crescent-shaped, stone oil lamp burning in the center of the room set the smooth, crystalline walls to shimmer. Suspended above the oil lamp was a steaming pot. Ahnah stirred its contents with a spoon made from some kind of bone.

The home was bigger than it appeared from the outside. “Is that another room?” Addy pointed to the open doorway off to the left. Animal pelts rested on an ice shelf inside.

“Yes. Sleep there.” Ahnah pulled out a hunk of animal meat, squeezed the broth from it, and handed it and a knife to Addy.

“Thank you.” Grateful for a hot meal no matter what the animal might be, she moved to the small wooden table to eat. Ahnah brought her cold chunks of blubber and some kind of thick soup.

“Again, thank you.” Addy dug in, too hungry to taste it and too hungry to care that she burned her tongue.

“Your first baby?” Ahnah pointed to Addy’s stomach.

“Yes.”

“Goddess Akna will visit you soon.” Her warm and friendly smile set her blue eyes sparkling. She patted her own swollen belly. “Me same. First baby.”

“Are you scared?”

“Was scared. Today husband return from Southland. I no scared no more.”

Good for her. When the baby came, she’d not only have the support of her village, but most importantly, she’d have a husband by her side.

Mom never had that. Her baby’s father had left her. Addy would never have that, either. The father of her baby took zero interest. Max never once asked about the pregnancy or Superbaby. But what had she expected? He barely spoke of anything that didn’t have to do with survival.

It was nice to talk to someone about her pregnancy, especially when that someone was another young mom going through the same thing. It was an instant connection. But as much as she would have liked to continue the baby talk, she needed to focus on the more pressing issue right now: getting information about the refuge.

“Is Southland at the equator where the refuge is?”

“This I don’t know. You can ask Yakone. Boats take men to Southland. They hunt and bring home much food.”

“I see.” The men must have traveled to the warmer environment to hunt. It made sense. The Tuniit band probably lived on reserved land and couldn’t find enough food here. Relief spread from her thoughts to her cracked lips. Ahnah had confirmed that land lay past an ocean and people could travel there. It wouldn’t be long before she and Max stepped foot on Southland. They were one stride closer to freedom.

Ahnah sat across from her. “Where you from?”

“I escaped from a place called HuBReC, but I was originally taken from Earth.”

Surprise lit her eyes. “I heard of this village. Kam say he from Earth. You know Kam?”

“Sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name.” Addy handed her the empty bowl. “Thank you for the meal. It was delicious.” She yawned. Now that she was warm and her hunger was satisfied, fatigue took front and center. Until now, she hadn’t realized how tired she was.

“You like to sleep now?” Ahnah asked.

It might have been the pregnancy bond thing, or knowing Max wasn’t far away, or the allure of sleep, but she didn’t feel the need to be wary of the Tuniit woman or her people. “Maybe a little nap.”

Ahnah led her into the adjoining room and helped her climb into the bed under the soft animal pelts. “Thank you, Ahnah,” Addy said, snuggled in a blanket of warmth. “For your kindness and hospitality.”

Ahnah smiled warmly and nodded before slipping out of the room. As soon as her eyes closed, Addy fell asleep.

* * *

Max licked the oil from the seal blubber he had just eaten off his gloved fingers. He followed Kaskae to the edge of the village where men unhitched teams of wolves while others unloaded thirty-foot umiak sleighs made of wood frames with walrus skin coverings. “I want one of those boats.”

Kaskae gave him a penetrating look.

“I mean to trade for it this time.” He unsheathed his gladimort and handed it hilt first to the chief. “With this.”

Kaskae accepted the sword, weighed it in his hand, and then shook his head no. He offered it back. Max didn’t take it. Instead, he pulled out the flesh-eater and handed it over as well.

“Weapons good.” Kaskae turned the blades in his hands. Sunlight reflected off the gladimort’s blade. “But no even trade.” He gave them back to Max.

“This is Hyborean steel.” Max held the gladimort out to Kaskae. “It won’t break or chip.”

“Have no need Hyborean steel. Hunt bow and spears like ancestor. Need umiaks.” He tapped a boat. “Travel to Southland. Bring food to Tuniit people. No even trade.”

Max dumped out his backpack, gaining the attention of two men unloading wood from their umiak. “Is there anything here you are willing to trade for?”

As Kaskae knelt and rummaged through his belongings, the men peered over his shoulder. After a minute they went back to work and Kaskae stood and shook his head. “Naga.”

Max shoved his things into the pack, trying to hide his frustration. He was sure Kaskae would have wanted the sword. That was what Kedric said he had bartered with last time. He must have given them something in addition to his weapon. But what? Max zipped up his bag.

Dammit. He had to get one of those boats. What else did he have worth trading? The woman’s backpack didn’t hold anything of value, either. “Is there anything I have that you want?”

“Naga.”

Since departing the incinerator plant, he’d planned on leaving the woman with the Tuniit. She couldn’t travel much farther in her condition. She was struggling as it was. The village was the safest place for both her and the child. Seeing that she was already staying, he might as well find out if she were trade worthy. Lucky had seemed to think so. Max took a breath. “How about the woman?”

“Woman have something to trade?”

“I’ll give you the woman for the boat.”

“Woman stay. You come back with umiak. Take woman.”

It took him a moment to understand Kaskae thought Max wanted to borrow the boat and leave the woman as collateral until his return. He shifted his stance and cleared the lump that suddenly formed in his throat. “I’m not returning.”

“What you mean?”

The surprise in Kaskae’s voice gnawed at Max’s conscience. Could he feel any more like dirt? “She can’t journey any farther. She’s having a baby soon. She needs to stay here in the village where it’s safe.”

“You stay. Build her shelter. Hunt for food. That is Tuniit way.”

She wouldn’t want him to stay. No one here would. The Tuniit were a peaceful people. Having a beast in their village would cause trouble. “I’m not Tuniit. Can’t she stay with someone else?”

Kaskae looked at him incredulously. “No Tuniit man take what not his. She belong to you.”

“She doesn’t belong to me. She belongs to herself. We just happen to be traveling together.”

“She not your woman?”

“No.”

“What child she carry?”

“Well, mine, but—”

“Naga.” He waved his hand in Max’s face. “High People different from Tuniit. This I know. But you make life inside her. No Tuniit man keep her. She is yours.”

How many times did he have to tell Kaskae that she wasn’t his? The woman could barely stand him. The only reason she was with him was because he knew how to escape HuBReC. So what that the child growing inside her was his? He didn’t even get to enjoy conceiving it. Damn woman fought him off when he’d tried. If she didn’t want him around to make the kid, she sure as hell wouldn’t want him around when the kid arrived. Max scratched his beard in an attempt to calm down. “What happens to a Tuniit woman if her man dies?”

“Family make another match. Your woman no Tuniit family.”

“I told you, she isn’t my woman. Look, I’m leaving tomorrow night without her. You can tell everyone I died and let her choose a husband. She’s beautiful. She’s smart. She’s spirited. Man, is she ever spirited. She’ll have ten guys vying for her attention in three sunsets. All I want to know is that she’ll be safe. That no one will hurt her or cast her out of the village.”

Kaskae’s eyes twinkled with merriment. He nodded in understanding. “Ahh.”

“What?”

“Woman no belong to you. You belong to woman.” He slapped Max’s shoulder and walked away.

                                                                            #  

I love that last line Kaskae says to Max. :) Will Max really leave Addy behind? Find out in next week's episode Chapter 28 or read the full story now at your favorite retailers.

 

K.M. FAWCETT 

Romance with a rebel heart  

www.kmfawcett.com

Rewind: Where does my book fit?

This is a repeat of an article I wrote back in 2018. The issue remains the same and it's something that's very important to 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. 

As far as SFR is concerned, I'm definitely going against the trend. I see more and more books that emphasize the sex. Reverse harem has become popular and sexual encounters with aliens and cyborgs is huge. It's a matter of personal taste, isn't it?

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. 

And as it happens, SFR stalwart, Pauline Baird Jones, has just started a group for books like mine - and hers. Lots of action, lots of romance but the sex is not explicit. It's called Blush Free Books. If you're a reader who prefers to skip the steamy scenes, this might be a group for you. 

About Blush Free Books

Welcome to Blush Free Books, a website and newsletter dedicated to building a community of readers who love exciting, action-filled, and well-written books that are hotter than the clean and sweet, but close the door on the steamy scenes. 

There are communities aplenty for steamy and inspirational books, but there is an underserved group in the middle: readers who crave well-written books with all the action, suspense, excitement, and romance without the graphic sex. These stories have the edge-of-your-seat action with a hint of spicy language and some of the sexual tension not found in the cleaner-sweeter stories.

The group is not just for SFR. You'll find fantasy, crime, paranormal novels that all share that basic characteristic - the sex isn't explicit. If that's your thing, come on over and join us. Authors, you're invited, too. See you there!

 

KING OF PAIN RELEASE DAY!

 It's finally release day for the fifth and final book in my Interstellar Rescue science fiction romance series, King of Pain: Interstellar Rescue Series Book 5! Get your digital copy to read on Kindle or any of its related apps NOW on Amazon for only $2.99! Or, if you prefer to read a book you can hold in your hands, the paperback is available for only $15.99. Message me here or on my Facebook page and I'll send you a signed bookplate to put in your book!

And, as always, I humbly ask that if you enjoy the read, you post a review of the book on Amazon, Goodreads, and/or BookBub. Reviews are an author's lifeblood, an encouragement to other readers to pick up the book. 

So, enjoy your holidays by reading (and reviewing) a new book!

Cheers, Donna

KING OF PAIN ON PREORDER!

Cover artist Jessica Hildreth's work!

 

The fifth book in my Interstellar Rescue series is available for preorder now on Amazon for a December 14 release date. Click here to make sure you get your ebook for Christmas (and for all your book-reading friends!).  Check out the blurb!

One planet, two worlds. And only Fate could unite them.

Trevyn Dar was once a Hunter of Thrane, feared throughout the galaxy as the son of the Butcher of Four Systems. But he clawed his way free of that bloody legacy to find his true path, as captain of a ship serving the anti-slavery goals of the Interstellar Council of Abolition and Rescue.

Lael Saphora is Hinarr, shapeshifter, sharing her skin with a snow cat Companion, but, like all her people, hunted, and oppressed because she lacks the telepathic skills of the genetic Thranes of her home planet. Since she witnessed the brutal death of her father as a child, Lael has been fighting for her people. She leads the Uprising against the iron grip of the Thrane Ruling Houses.

When Trevyn receives unusual orders from Rescue to seize a ship smuggling weapons for slavers, he discovers the darkly compelling Lael at the helm—no slaver, but a political prisoner, whose extradition to Thrane means torture and death. His journey to uncover what’s behind her false arrest takes him back to a home planet he had hoped to never see again, reveals an ugly conspiracy at the heart of Rescue, and rips open old wounds. But Trevyn and Lael share a common past, and only love can heal two hearts broken by an ancient pain.

 

King of Pain: Interstellar Rescue Series Book Five available for preorder on Amazon Now!