Now that is what I call epic!

You can’t see me! You can’t see me!

Road to Hell audiobook!

I’m very excited to announce that my audiobook of ROAD TO HELL released with Iambik Audiobooks today!

I love audiobooks, so I admit I was nervous about hearing my own work read. What if I didn’t like it? What if it didn’t sound the way my brain said it should? Well, it turned out fantastic! I got to listen to the final audio last week to proof it, and was struck with the great job the narrator did.  After having read that manuscript so many times, it was rather stranger hearing it for the first time.

Audible and iTunes links will be coming soon, but you won’t find it cheaper than on the Iambik site ($6.99) so grab a copy!

Collaborator: Chapter 2(b)

COLLABORATOR

New? You can find the Prologue timeline here! 

For details about the serial, including how to become a bad guy, click here!

Marc stood, panic rising in him. Patrice held the names of two members in other terrorist cells. She’d been their only link in case of capture. Torturing the other five, including himself, would only get them the members of their group. Patrice could expose two other operatives and, in doing so, expose another sixty people to Corps Intelligence.

He could handle being tortured. He could not handle watching them torture Patrice.

“She doesn’t know anything,” Marc shouted at the guards as they walked into Patrice’s cell. Two of the guards grabbed Patrice under her arms and dangled her fat, naked body between them.

“Names,” the female guard said, staring at Marc.

“I don’t know any,” he said and it was the truth. “Let her go! I don’t know the names of anyone outside of our cell! You already have those names.”

The two other guards looked at the female, who nodded. She turned her stare back to Marc, smiling. Marc grabbed the bars and screamed, “Don’t touch her!”

A fist slammed into Patrice’s face at the same time as a boot landed in her shins. She screamed in terror. “Leave me alone!”

“Let her go!” the others shouted, a mix of feminine and masculine voices screaming fruitlessly.

“Names.”

Another kick and punch. Patrice sobbed into the darkness. “Please stop.”

The acrid stench of urine filled the tiny incarceration chamber. Too much adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream and Marc’s limbs violently shook. He grasped the bars until his knuckles turned white, holding himself up. He was engineered to handle combat stress, not to be caged up watching his sister get tortured.

“I don’t know any, you cockhole!”

The guard pulled baton from a sheath on her hip. Marc’s heart picked up speed and he screamed obscenities until his voice cracked and his throat felt as though it was bleeding. Tears welled up in his eyes.

“Let her go!”

“Repeating yourself will not get the results you desire,” the guard said, turning her back on him. The others continued beating Patrice until she no longer screamed. She could only whimper and moan with each kick to her body. Marc could only stand there, trying to shake unmovable bars, bellowing for them to release his sister.

“Step back please,” the guard ordered and the two guards holding Patrice dropped her to the cold floor. Marc’s nightvision was not perfect but he could see the splatters on her naked body – her own blood. Rage blinded his vision and he had to blink his eyes several times before he could even see straight.

“Marc, what’s happening?” Quel asked, her voice frail and very far away.

“Shut up,” the female guard hissed.

“Don’t talk,” Marc snapped to his cell mates.

The female guard stepped over Patrice’s rocking, moaning form and turned to stared at Marc, a faint smile recognizable on her darken, greyish-hued skin. “That’s right, everyone. Don’t talk. Listen. I am going to plunge this baton into her guts and hold it there until it either burns a hole clear to her spine or you tell me the names of the other terrorists.” The guard looked down. “Considering how fat she is, you’ll have a few moments to consider.”

Marc fruitlessly shook the bars, slamming his body against the nano-fibre titanium cross braces. “We don’t know any names,” he screamed, his voice raw and cracking. “Leave her alone or I swear to the Gods I will kill you!”

“Names.”

Hormones flooded Marc’s system and he panted from the strain. “All right!”

“Don’t!” Answer shouted at him.

“Shut up!” Marc ordered. This was his sister they were torturing. This entire plan was because of what they’d done to his sister. He would not let her die without a fight.

The guard stepped close to the bars, but not enough for him to grab and choke her. “The names of the terrorists.”

“Patrice is our contract,” Marc said through clenched teeth. “She is the only member who knows.”

“Liar,” the guard hissed.

“It’s true!” Marc snapped, trying to prevent alarm from entering his voice. “For Gods’ sake, she needs help!”

The female guard remained still for a moment before turning to the guards and giving them a sharp nod. They picked up Patrice, grunting under the strain of her weight, and dragged her out of her cell, plopping her limp form in front of the main door. One of the guards began talking, presumably calling for medical assistance.

“I’m waiting.”

Marc took a deep breath and said in as calm of a tone as he could manage, “We made Patrice our contact, since I was the most obvious target in case of capture.”

The guard narrowed her eyes. “Go on.”

“She knows the contact name of two other cell groups. Other than that, we’re completely insular.” Marc stared at his sister. “She is our only link with the outside.”

“If you are lying to me,” the guard said, and her voice went low, “I’ll kill her in front of you and then I will kill you.”

Marc remained silent, though his hands still shook from the dissipating, unused adrenaline.

The guard stared at him for a few beats before breaking away and shouting, “Get this fatty to the clinic before her brain starts leaking.”

Seconds later, the security door clunked and the five left, dragging his sister’s bleeding form behind them.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Answer said.

Cold settled on Marc and his mouth went dry. “So do I.”

 

Read Chapter 3a here!

 

Eternally Jane: A Short Story

I have a new short story out today – Eternally Jane.

Lady Francis Millington rushes to Chawton after receiving a startling letter about the declining health of her dear friend, Miss Jane Austen. She is in possession of the one thing that can cure her friend. The question is, will Francis have to force it upon Jane, or will she drink the blood of eternal life willing? 

If you notice, it’s by a new pen name of mine: John Reynolds. John will be my Regency non-HFN/HEA/romance pen name. I wanted a pen name specifically for Regency non-romance, so I’m combining two of my favourite TV men into a pen name. Try to guess who they are

$1.00 on Smashwords (it’ll be up on Amazon in a day or two).

Book reading, with photos

Last night, I did a book reading for Ride the Moon’s Edmonton book launch. In atypical writer style, I arrived showered, well-dressed, and sober.  I know, I give authors bad names.

One of the best thing about book launch parties is, quite frankly, the cake. In particular, the book cover cake. There’s something about eating the symbol of your literary work that is rather satisfying.

Or, more likely, it was that I forgot to eat lunch, it was 5pm, and the cake was really, really yummy. Either way.

In two weeks, I’m attending another book launch for Ride the Moon, this time in Calgary…at an observatory! I’m really looking forward to that and getting to completely geek out.

Other Updates!

Once the madness of March is over, Collaborator will be back! So hold on to your seats, since Rebecca is about to face Captain Ro Babiak, who is about to change her life…and she doesn’t even know it.

I also finished Tranquility’s Grief, book two of the Tales of Tranquility series. I’m letting it simmer right now, before I go through the entire manuscript again and ensure it’s all smooth and as good as it can be. This book has been a torture for me. I have re-written the book from scratch twice, and ended up losing a significant portion due to a virus and had to rewrite sections for a third time. It’s been the bane of my existence for four years now, but it’s done. Well, done-ish

Tranquility’s Blaze, Book one of the Tales of Tranquility Series, comes late next month. Ack! No, I’m not nervous at all. Not at all. That puking sound you hear is one of the cats.

I have a short erotica coming out in the next month. I know! Now, I’m not going to say the name on the blog. Some of you on Twitter know the name and part of the fun will be for you folks to find it without me telling you.

For those of you shocked that I wrote erotica, I’d like to clarify that it was a) on a dare over Christmas and b) I was really drunk when I did it. I started a hashtag on Twitter called #smutfail during the writing and had a cheering section telling me to “rip her dress off” for three straight days. I felt like a perv half of the time, and really pathetic the other half for needing people to tell me to get her out of her dress.

What else…I just released a mini collection of 7 of my comedy short stories called Royal Schemes for those who wanted to pick up a combo pack. I’m branching off and starting a new collection of darker, relationship-based historical short stories under the pen name John Reynolds.

There ya go! We’ll be back to regular once April comes.