Artist, Author of Sci-Fi, Space Opera, and Romance

Author Facade: being who you are as a writer #Author #MFRWauthor #INFJ

Kayelle Allen 03/05/2018 Kayelle Allen 5 Comments

Author façade. Do those words go together? Yes. When people ask me what I do, I could say I’m a wife or mother. I could say I’m a veteran. Or retired. Or any number of things. So could you, right? But what I say is, “I’m a writer.” An author.

The Author Façade

I’ve been published since 2004, and without exaggeration, I can say I’ve written hundreds of blog posts, tens of thousands of emails, and millions of words. I’ve posted on blogs all over the net. Why? So readers can know the person behind the author façade. Is Kayelle Allen an author façade? Well, maybe façade is not the best word. One dictionary I consulted defines it like this:

Façade (1) A showy misrepresentation intended to conceal something unpleasant. — I certainly hope I’m not unpleasant. That doesn’t sound good, does it? No, not at all. I think my author facade fits the second definition better.
Façade (2): Frontage, the face or front of a building. Window dressing. — Or does that make my author façade somehow equal to drapes? Surely not.

I prefer to see my author façade as the best of who I am. My best-foot-forward attitude. My who-I-am when I’m on-my-best-behavior self. Okay, those of you who know me best can stop snickering. I can hear you all the way over here.

The thing is, my author façade is reality. The Kayelle Allen online is who I really am. Every person has something of a façade when it comes to public life and there are things I don’t share online. But I strive to be faithful to my private life when presenting my author self in public. I attempt to keep my author façade true to my real persona. So who am I?

I’m an INFJ (Myers Briggs temperament). The letters stand for Introversion (I), Intuition (N), Feeling (F), Judgment (J). I’m an introvert (I) in that I get my energy by being alone. I have blazingly fast insight (N) into people. I tend to go with feelings (F) over facts because I trust my own intuition, and once I make up my mind (J), I act without hesitation or looking back. Who are some other INFJs? Oprah Winfrey, Billy Crystal, Nelson Mandela, Carrie Fisher, Nicole Kidman, and Adam Sandler. Try this article if you want more insight.

My inside age and outside age are not equal. I may have aged, but I am not old. Wiser? Yes. Goodness. You couldn’t live my life without learning a few things. Smarter? Debatable. I’m a US Navy veteran (Viet Nam era) and a member of RomVets (female romance writers who served in the military). I’m also a former Toastmaster. I love getting up in front of people and talking. That’s the number one fear in America, but I happen to love public speaking. You’d get me on a roller coaster only by dragging my dead body, but I will happily speak to a convention full of people. Weird, huh? I’m the founder of Marketing for Romance Writers, a peer-mentoring group for authors. Don’t get me started on that. I love MFRW! Click the link for in depth info about MFRW.

I think I’m someone you’d like if you got to know me. Because as much as being a writer is like being a different person, my author façade is the presentation of a real person. I invite you to follow and get to know me. I’d like to get to know you too. Please, tell me about your “façade” as a person. Who are you?

What king is spooked by a lingering memory #Pietas #SciFi #MFRWhooks

Kayelle Allen 02/28/2018 Fallen Empires 12 Comments

In this scene, Pietas is about to face his father, whom he detests on every level. The man was never more than a brutal drill instructor, and the dread inside Pietas at the thought of seeing him dredges up a painful, lingering memory. Six, who cannot avoid hearing Pietas’s thoughts, finds out why he dislikes the nickname “Pi.”

A Lingering Memory

Pietas put one persistent foot before the other. Rising tension stole the breath from his lungs but he soldiered on. His mother waited at camp.

So did his father.

An Ultra tackled what he most wanted to avoid. He did not seek to escape discomfort. Pain was a warrior’s ally. But knowing that, believing it, living it, did not stop the dread.

The past closed in on him. He sat alone in darkness. Entombed in silence. Surrounded by the acrid smell of musty, urine-soaked cloth and his own sweat. Trapped inside a dirt-covered cage, running out of air, with his father’s voice berating him.

“You made a stupid blunder on a simple number like pi. What is wrong with you? If you want out of there, recite pi to the thousandth place. Correctly. Start again, Pietas. From the beginning.”

He’d uttered the last number, struggling to push the sounds out of his mouth. When the cage opened and air whooshed in, he choked, unable to draw it in fast enough. Gasping, retching, he curled into a ball on the ground.

“Get up!” Mahikos hauled him to his feet. “You’re going to learn to hold your breath! What did I tell you? Ultras hold their breath ten times longer than you. You’re a pathetic excuse for a soldier.” He shook him. “How old are you?”

His neck hurt, but he didn’t dare complain. His father would make it worse. “Sir, ten, sir.”

“Ten. You act like you’re two. Stand up straight when I’m speaking to you.”

He drew himself up. “Sir, yes, sir.”

He smacked Pietas on the back of the head. “Pi. That’s what I’m going to call you when you make stupid mistakes from now on. Pi. You hear that? Your new name is Pi!”

“Pietas?”

At Joss’s voice, the sounds of the forest intruded, bringing him back to the present.

She peered at him. “Are you all right?”

The past whirled away like tattered ghost ships on the ebbing tide. His heart raced, throat dry. His fists ached from clenching them.

“Of course.” His beautiful telepath had overheard his thoughts, but his story was not new to her. He’d shared much of his past with Joss. He lifted her hand to his lips. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

As she turned away, Pietas inhaled, let it all out, drew in another breath. Some king he was. Spooked by a lingering memory he was unable to forget.

Six came up and walked beside him, head down. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Calling you Pi.” He looked up. “I had no idea.”

“Heard that, did you?” Pietas coughed into a fist, kept walking. “I don’t want you to stop. It will infuriate my father beyond measure when he hears you call me that”– He smiled at Six –“and I fail to flay you alive for taking such liberties.”

Ever have a lingering memory come to mind in your own life? Some linger because they’re pleasant, others are unforgettable because the horror of the moment is imprinted on our psyches. In the Bringer of Chaos series, Pietas is becoming the king half the galaxy fears. His road is not an easy one. Writing his story and sharing each lingering memory that shaped his life has been heartbreaking at times. Others have made me laugh out loud as I write them. Pietas is the most complex character I have ever written. He’s in nearly every book written within the universe he governs.

I hope you enjoyed the excerpt and will come back next week for another snippet.

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Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. It’s a chance each week for you the reader to discover current WIP or previously published book by possibly new-to-you authors.

Friends can hear you thinking #MFRWhooks #SciFi #SpaceOpera

Kayelle Allen 02/21/2018 Fallen Empires 8 Comments

With a close friend, you might actually say, “I can hear you thinking.” In this scene from Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire, Pietas and Six have climbed a mountain and are almost at their destination. They’d walked for well over a month to get to this point. The two have relied on one another for survival, despite the fact that Pietas is an immortal Ultra and Six is–or was–human. They should have been mortal enemies, but fate has made them close friends. In fact, for reasons they don’t yet understand, Six has begun literally hearing Pietas’s thoughts.

I can hear you thinking

Last to reach sunlight was Six, the ghost. Not a phantom or aetheric creature, but a member of Ghost Corps. A human who’d died and been resurrected by infusing his body with Ultra blood. Transformed into a quasi-immortal with enough strength to perma-kill Pietas or another immortal. And ironically, the closest friend Pietas had ever had in his entire unceasing, solitary life.

Without slowing his pace, Six skirted around Philippe, trudged up the hill toward Pietas and joined him atop the rocks. He, too, shielded his eyes.

He’d grown lean and ragged over the weeks they’d hiked the planet. Both of them had. No matter how much fish they caught, or what wild fruits they found, there was not enough to gain weight. Like Pietas, Six had no beard, a result of his transformation. His naturally brown skin had grown browner while they tramped in the sun. His dark hair had grown at a human pace and curled over his ears.

Pietas, who could not tan or sunburn, had grown blonder. He’d cut his hair not long after their arrival on Sempervia, but already, it hung halfway down his back. He wore it tied behind him to keep it out of his face.

“Pi, look at this view!”

The nickname irked. He’d asked Six to drop it, to no avail. My name is Pietas. It’s pronounced pee-ah-toss. He might not speak it aloud, but he had to say it. Not Pi. Pee-ah-toss.

“I can hear you thinking. You know that, right?”

Then you know what I’m thinking now.

“Same to you, Ultra. Besides, you call me Six. I call you Pi. Suits you.”

“Six is an integer. Pi is an irrational number.”

The man shot him a smile. “Like I said.”

Pietas rubbed the tight spot between his eyes.

“Hey! There’s the river.” Six pointed. “What a great vantage point this is. No wonder castles were always built on mountaintops. Talk about your uphill battle, no?”

How like his friend to view the humor in a situation. “True.”

“Rain’s coming.”

“Soon?”

“No.” The man bent, brushed his fingertips across tufts of yellowed grass among the rocks and plucked a handful. He tossed it into the air. “Dry. Possible rain doesn’t reach up here often. I give it two hours, amigo. Longer, depending on the wind.” He sniffed. “Smells different. This’ll be a bad one.”

When the immortal Pietas is marooned on a barren world with no food and few survival tools, he knows it could be worse. He could be alone. But that’s the problem. He’s not.
Half a million of his people sleep in cryostasis, trapped in their pods and it’s up to Pietas to rescue them. Before he can save his people, he must take back command from a ruthless enemy he’s fought for centuries. His brutal, merciless father. Immortals may heal, but a wound of the heart lasts forever…

Amazon and in print. Free on Kindle Unlimited http://amzn.to/2ABIcCI

Who is the pet here? Pietas gets a panther “kitty” #SciFi #Pietas #MFRWhooks

Kayelle Allen 02/14/2018 Fallen Empires 6 Comments

Who is the pet here? Pietas gets a panther "kitty" #SciFi #Pietas #MFRWhooks When Pietas is attacked from behind, the panther who’s been his shadow for months leaps into the frey and protects him. It costs the cat its life. But this panther is far more than what it seems. While Pietas watches, the cat revives and sits up, facing him. It’s as immortal as he is.
—

On the planet Kaffir, they had a word for loyal warrior. Pietas cupped the animal’s jaw, his face inches from the cat’s. “You answer to no man, but when I speak and think of you, I’ll call you Tiklaus.”

Tiklaus gave him a long, wet lick and nudged him before backing away. The panther made a huffing bark sound. From the group of cats, a smaller panther padded close, dropped and stretched out, belly up. With its nose, Tiklaus butted the cat. The smaller animal stood and came alongside Tiklaus. Side by side, the cat’s more noticeable rosette pattern showed, dark brown on black.

Six nudged Pietas. “What just happened?”

“Not sure. I get the sense they’re not mates.”

Tiklaus and the other panther walked toward the Ultras, who all backed away.

“Stand still.” Pietas raised one hand. “You’re not in danger.”

Leading the other cat, Tiklaus padded before the Ultras, pausing to sniff each one.

Pietas had hugged each of them. No doubt his scent remained.

Erryq went down on one knee as Tiklaus approached. “Hello, there.” She held out one hand and the panther put its nose in the center of it. Erryq stroked Tiklaus while the other cat sniffed her. Its breath ruffled the long red curls around her face. “That tickles.” She stroked the other cat.

Tiklaus moved past Erryq and headed for Helia and Dessy, the smaller cat keeping pace.

Helia remained at Dessy’s side. When Tiklaus approached them, his mother held down her hand. Dessy did the same. They stood still while the cats inspected them.

The smaller cat sat beside Helia and wrapped its tail around her feet.

Tiklaus trotted toward Six, who backed away.

“No.” Pietas held onto him. “Let the cat smell you.”

The cat snuffled Six’s legs, walked around him, and then did one more revolution, dragging its tail along him.

“Marking you, ghost. You’ve been accepted.”

Tiklaus plopped down between them, wrapped its long tail around Pietas’s legs and leaned against his thigh.

Six whistled. “I can’t tell if you just got a pet or became one.”

[bctt tweet=”Awww… Pietas gets a panther ‘kitty’ #SciFi #MFRWhooks” username=”kayelleallen”]

Book Hooks is a weekly meme hosted by Marketing for Romance Writers as part of the MFRW Authors Blog. It’s a chance each week for you the reader to discover current WIP or previously published book by possibly new-to-you authors.
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Blink twice if you hear me, ghost #MFRWhooks #MFRWauthor #SciFi

Kayelle Allen 02/07/2018 Fallen Empires 10 Comments

In this scene, Six, member of the Ghost Corps (a human resurrected with Ultra blood), has been taken hostage by Mahikos, Pietas’s father. Pietas and Joss have just found him.

Blink Twice

“Are you looking for this?” The unmistakable voice of his father came to Pietas before the man’s faint outline revealed itself in the dark.

Mahikos had captured Six and pressed a knife blade to the ghost’s throat. At the point where the blade dug into him, blood oozed.

The blank passivity on his friend’s face revealed what Pietas had feared. Six had been compelled into submission by the psychic gifts Mahikos wielded. He would stand there and let the man kill him.

Rage propelled Pietas forward.

“That’s far enough, Son.” Mahikos dragged Six backward. “Unless you want your own hands covered in this human’s blood.”

Pietas ground his teeth. For this, his father would forfeit his life. “I will end you, old man.”

“Will you?” Mahikos dug the knife edge into Six’s neck. “You dared bring this abomination into our camp after it threatened your mother–the woman I love–and you want to end me? This thing is going to die by my hands!”

Time slowed to a crawl.

Pietas drew every vestige of Compulsion he had and threaded Chaos along its invisible bands. Mahikos was immune to both, but aligned, they might soften his will.

Wait. Immune. Immune!

That word rattled around his head, a stone bouncing off the sides of a bottomless metal pit.

Pietas had practiced compulsion, sending command after command to Six. The man was immune.

Six, blink twice if you hear me.

He gave two quick blinks.

How he treasured this man! Good job, ghost. You stalled him. If you’re hurt, blink once.

Six remained steady.

Excellent. I should never have left you. I’m sorry. On my mark, drop and get out of the way. Joss, go right. Distract him.

I serve. Her mindvoice packed the simple Ultra vow with raw emotion.

Now!

Joss screeched a war cry and bolted right.

[bctt tweet=”Blink twice if you hear me, ghost #MFRWhooks #MFRWauthor #SciFi” username=”kayelleallen”]

When the immortal Pietas is marooned on a barren world with no food and few survival tools, he knows it could be worse. He could be alone. But that’s the problem. He’s not.
Half a million of his people sleep in cryostasis, trapped in their pods and it’s up to Pietas to rescue them. Before he can save his people, he must take back command from a ruthless enemy he’s fought for centuries. His brutal, merciless father. Immortals may heal, but a wound of the heart lasts forever…
Amazon and in print. Free on Kindle Unlimited http://amzn.to/2ABIcCI

You dare insult the Bringer of Chaos? #SciFi #Pietas #MFRWhooks

Kayelle Allen 01/31/2018 Fallen Empires 10 Comments

In this scene from Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas, the immortal king has completed a ritual for strength and prowess. He had told Six, who is human, not to watch and to keep his distance. But when Pietas’s injuries make it impossible to complete the ritual on his own, Six helps by cutting off the king’s long blond hair. The part below takes place immediately after the ritual ends. (A ghost is a special ops soldier who has died and been reanimated to fight immortal Ultras.)
—

“Six, I want to see how you sharpen knives.”

Though it was full daylight, they were in shade, and the firelight cast flickering shadows on Six’s face. “Oh?”

“That blade is impressive.”

“Thanks.” Six folded the knife and holstered it. “It does the job.”

“However, you disobeyed a direct order.”

Six fastened the safety on the holster, securing the knife. “See, I’m not one of your soldiers.” Using a thumb, he wiped away a smear of blood from Pietas’s cheek. “Which means you can’t give me an order. Therefore, I did no such thing.”

He met the man’s unwavering gaze. “How you frustrate me, ghost.”

“To quote you, ‘Good.’ Now, what’s next?”

“The ritual is complete.”

Six gestured to his own eyes. “So that mask is part of your ritual.”

“I never wear the mask until I’ve made myself worthy. And I’m ready for war.”

“That means the day we met, you’d done the ritual.”

“Yes.”

Six cursed under his breath. “So, uh, what else do you need?”

“I’ll settle for you helping me up.”

“The great Pietas, War Leader of the Ultras, wants help from a mortal? How the mighty have fallen.”

Pietas narrowed his eyes. “Ghost, don’t make me eat you.”

“Yeah? I got two words for you, Ultra. Bring. Salt.” He stood and offered his hand. “Come on, amigo. I’ll douse the fire while you get dressed.”

Pietas gripped it and forced himself to stand. His legs hurt, and it took a full minute for him to catch his breath. Did mortals put up with this kind of pain on a daily basis? They must be stronger than he ever imagined.

Six had the courtesy to remain silent about how badly Pietas limped, and instead, worked on putting out the campfire.

Once he’d brushed off the dirt on his legs, Pietas dressed, and then helped Six clean up. Though it was still morning, the day darkened while they were finishing. By the time they reached camp, the sun was gone.

At first, Pietas thought it might be another massive flock of birds, but then he spied what had sent the birds fleeing.

Black clouds roiled. Thunder boomed. The sky went white with lightning.

In the north, the mother of all thunderstorms rolled over the horizon.

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A psychic fight is chaos #SciFi #SpaceOpera #MFRWhooks

Kayelle Allen 01/24/2018 Fallen Empires 7 Comments

In this scene from Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire, Pietas has a psychic fight with his sister, Dessy. Having seen Pietas performing a ritual for their people with a human, she adjusts the “mask” he’s wearing. (He’d pretended to put it on, but due to the urgency of the situation, there’s nothing on his face.) When Pietas takes affront, twins Armand and Philippe try to take her side.

A Psychic Fight

Dessy slid one fingertip across an area below one of his eyes. “There.” She dusted off her hands. “That’s better.”

“What did you do?”

“Since you didn’t have a real partner for your ritual, I fixed your mask.” She shot him a humorless, sneering smile. “You missed a spot.”

Ire flooded Pietas. He gripped Dessy’s wrist and yanked her to him.

The shock on her face gave way to indignation. “Let go!” She jerked her arm but he held her fast. She shoved him.

He didn’t budge, refusing to let her win.

She bombarded him with her empathic senses. The psychic melee of anger and rage stung worse than an ice storm, but pain had never stopped him. “I’m warning you, Pietas. Let go of me!”

“Or what?” He shot back his own and added a trickle of Wilt, a demand for surrender. “You’ll tell Daddy?”

Her inborn Ultra gift of Compulsion pushed at his mind, willing Pietas to release her. His sister had mastered the psychic ability as a toddler. He’d been four before he grasped the concept. Seven before he’d mastered it.

But he’d been born immune.

Another wave of outrage pummeled him, but it did no more good than the first.

“Pietas!” Dessy stamped her foot. “Let go or so help me–” She threw her other hand up, fingers spread.

The world tilted, disorienting him, no longer than it took to blink.

“Did you throw Chaos at me?” He patted his chest. “They call me Bringer of Chaos because it’s my strongest gift.” He yanked her up hard and brought his face close to hers. “Shall I show you?”

“No! No, Pietas, don’t.” She quit fighting. “Let me go.”

“I will not play games with you, Sister.” He loosened his grip, allowing her freedom. Even as furious as she’d made him, he refused to hurt her. “Did you think I wouldn’t know what you were doing? Telling me I ‘missed a spot’ was a play for power.”

“Power?” Dessy’s eyes flashed, their deep-winter-ice darkening to sooty gray. She settled herself and lifted her chin, regarding him with all the cold calculation of a paid temptress seeking whatever customer held the most cash. “I’m your sister. How can you say that to me?”

“How? Because two thousand years of attitude. Because you haven’t changed one bit. You’re more manipulative than ever.”

She rubbed her wrist, softening her expression. Tears welled. She folded her hands as if in prayer and placed them along her cheek. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. Don’t be angry with me.”

“Save it. That hasn’t worked on me since I was a boy.”

“Oh, Pietas.” She sniffed. “I’m sorry. Didn’t you realize I was playing? I’ve missed you. I wanted to be part of your ritual, that’s all.” Her voice broke on the last.

Armand and Philippe whipped toward her faster than trained puppies.

Pietas threw the compulsion to stop.

They halted, their wills frozen by the conflicting psychic demands.

Dessy reverted to her temptress self, glaring at him with a dare. “You’re the one who hasn’t changed. You countermand everything. You’re the same pain in the–”

“Dessy!” Pietas bent down to her. “You’ve been the queen of fake tears since you were two and discovered they got you out of punishment. They might have worked on our father but they will not work on me. Save it.”

“You let that human do the ritual with you! There’s nothing worth less than a human.” She sent a snarling glance Six’s way. “Except a dead one.”

When you love it, but it’s wrong #Pietas #SciFi #MFRWhooks

Kayelle Allen 01/17/2018 Fallen Empires 13 Comments

There are times when you love something but must give it up because a) it’s not good for you, b) someone else needs it more, c) it’s broken beyond repair, d) you’ve moved past it, e) when it’s perfectly fine but it simply doesn’t do what it needs to do. In other words, when it’s wrong.

When You Love It

I’m changing the cover of my book, Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire. I’ve adored this cover from day one. I wooed a talented artist (Brumae) into doing it and was happy to pay her fee. She was easy to work with and did a wonderful job. I would hire her for other images in a heartbeat.

Unfortunately, the cover came across as more urban fantasy than science fiction. Everyone loved the art — but it didn’t work for the story. One person said, “Something’s wrong but I don’t know what.” It was subtle but it didn’t “click” with the story. She didn’t know exactly what was wrong. She just knew something was.

There were a few other comments as well.

Too many words
Large red font was hard to read
Angle of the title made it hard to read
Too busy
Cluttered

Ack. Those were hard to take, but I needed to hear them. Even with these errors people still thought the artwork itself was stunning. But when it doesn’t fit the genre, it’s wrong. Here are the two sets of covers for both books 1 and 2. What do you think? The old covers are on the left.

But It’s Wrong

A good cover sells the book. It entices readers to pick it up and have a closer look. Although this was a gorgeous cover with beautiful artwork, the readers I was trying to reach were passing it right on by. I had to admit I’d chosen the wrong part of the story to accentuate. Time to make a change.

I chose a different image, one of a planet with extensive volcanic activity. The blues harmonized well with the first cover and the reds fit the story’s title, Forged in Fire. It has a sense of movement and life. It’s uncluttered. I removed the line “Sempervian Saga” and its logo. I’ll put that elsewhere, perhaps inside the book during the next update. These books are in the Bringer of Chaos series, which is part of the overall Sempervian Saga. I have other books in that larger saga as well.

I tilted the word “Bringer” 90 degrees clockwise and moved “of” to a different location. Then I resized the entire phrase and put it near the bottom, in much smaller type. I kept the font. It’s called Sabotage, by the way, and you can get it on www.dafont.com for free. That font absolutely fits the man known as the Bringer of Chaos.

So there you have it. Lovely cover. Not working. Changes made. I’ll let you know how this book fares.

The only downside? I made about a hundred banners with the old cover on them. Now I have to decide which ones work best and which ones don’t. Here we go again…

Humans are ruled, not obeyed #MFRWhooks #SciFi #Books

Kayelle Allen 01/10/2018 Fallen Empires 3 Comments

In this scene from Bringer of Chaos (book 1), Pietas has been captured by humans and ordered to enter a stasis tube, where he will be put into cryogenic sleep and transported to a world far across the galaxy. He has other plans. Humans are ruled, not obeyed.
—

The leaders of his people gathered in sleep around him, sealed inside their curved, steel stasis tubes. Above him, humans waited for Pietas to enter the last one.

He folded his arms.

“Feast your eyes, vultures.” Pietas lifted his chin. “Humans are ruled, not obeyed. You think to imprison me? You think to bring me down like a hunted animal?” He spread his hands outward, indicating the pods. “I will not cower before you. I will not bow. I will not kneel. I will not serve. I will never submit. Humans were made to be ruled, not by my people, but by me.”

The silhouettes of humans above him contrasted with the bright light behind them. One by one, they slipped away, until a single silhouette remained.

“Fighting us accomplishes nothing.” The disembodied voice echoed in the chamber. “You won’t leave that room until you’re in stasis. Enter the pod or we’ll siphon the air, and let you die.”

“I’ve died countless times. I do not fear death. Death fears me.”

“So be it. Since you’re so set on dying, have it your way. I told you if you didn’t cooperate, I would detonate the bombs within the hostages you took aboard your ship. See for yourself.”

On the opposite wall, an image of the Uurahkal sparkled into life, and a bloom of light filled the screen. A mass of debris shot in all directions.

“Your crew has ceased to exist.”

“That image is a farce. You would not dare to destroy the council’s flagship, and you will not destroy the council. You are cowards. You lock us away in a barren room and threaten our people. This is why humans do not deserve freedom. You are worthless, miserable liars.”

“Believe me, your crew is quite dead. The universe is a safer place for it.”

[bctt tweet=”Humans are ruled, not obeyed. — Pietas #SciFi #Pietas #SFR” username=”kayelleallen”]

“It will never be safe. Not for you.” His fists ached from clenching them. “I will hunt you down and make you pay to the last generation of your bloodline.”

“Good-bye, Pietas.” The silhouette moved from the window, and all the lights went out.

In the darkness, the pod indicator lights showed. The green pinpricks of light cast eerie shadows. High up, tiny points of blue revealed the presence of cameras and projectors embedded within the walls. They were watching, even in the dark. No doubt recording him to show his people and humans that he’d failed.

He’d make them watch his escape before he slaughtered them. Then he’d broadcast it to humans across the galaxy. Let them see their doom coming for them. He would kill them all for this.

A low hissing sound signaled air leaving the room.

Pietas could hold his breath longer than ten humans combined, but he pretended to stumble. He braced himself against his mother’s pod. His chest ached, not from lack of air, but from the love he held for her. He would make them pay for every affront.

Clutching a hand over his heart, he acted as if unable to breathe. He sucked in the escaping air, saturating his blood with oxygen. He shook as if unable to catch his breath, and hurried toward the isolated pod. He put himself on the far side, away from the door, between the wall and the tube, and let himself fall against it. He grappled with the opening, and then slid to the floor. As hidden from the entry and the cameras as he could make himself, Pietas curled into a tight ball before going limp.

He conserved his strength, and waited for the loathsome humans to enter.

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Guarantee? Not for a human #Pietas #SciFi #MFRWhooks

Kayelle Allen 01/03/2018 Fallen Empires 9 Comments

You have no guarantee, human… Pietas is not, shall we say, “fond” of humans? He has good reason.

When the immortal Pietas is marooned on a barren world with no food and few survival tools, he knows it could be worse. He could be alone. But that’s the problem. He’s not.

Half a million of his people sleep in cryostasis, trapped inside their pods and it’s up to Pietas to save them. He can’t release one at a time. It’s all or nothing. He’s facing over five hundred thousand hungry, thirsty, homeless, immortals all looking to him for answers.

It’s not all bad. The beautiful telepathic warrior he’s loved for lifetimes is at his side. He’s bonded with a sentient panther. He hates humans but the one dumped on this planet with him has become a trusted friend.

But before Pietas can build shelter, figure out how to grow food, or set up a government, he must take back command from a ruthless enemy he’s fought for centuries. His brutal, merciless father.

Immortals may heal, but a wound of the heart lasts forever…

Human, you have no guarantee

This is the foreword of Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire, from Pietas, the hero.

You’re human. Lies are your nature.
Truth is mine. Honoring my word means more to me than life.
Humans are craven, contemptible and reprehensible supplanters of power. You lack the truth.
Traitors among my kind lied to you. They concealed themselves among you and claimed we were myth. They fed you false hope. Told you you were safe. Lulled you into complacent ignorance. Manipulated, confused, and desensitized you.
You chose to believe their lies.
You’ve heard tales of visitors from outer space. Stories of aliens who walk among you. You called them urban legends, myths, tall tales for the campfire, untrue.
You refused to believe the truth.
This book relates my tale but is not from my point of view. Call it Science Fiction, but it happened. I exist. My dimension is not yours. You have not been aware of me–until now–but I know everything about you.
To honor a worthy human friend, I considered sparing humanity. I have since seen the folly of blanket exemption. Not all of you deserve to die, but there are requirements for being protected. Will I choose you?
I offer no guarantee. Your fate is a bequest no one can usurp.
Believe me.
Read this, if you dare to know the truth.
~ Pietas

Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire by Kayelle Allen
Science fiction with romantic elements
Rated PG13 for violence (no explicit content or profanity)
Amazon and in print. Free on Kindle Unlimited
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Read book 1: Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas, available free on Kindle Unlimited
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