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Light blared like a blast of horns #SciFi #MFRWhooks

Light blared like a blast of horns #SciFi #MFRWhooks

 

In this scene from Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas, the hero is trapped in darkness within a lifepod without one spark of light.

Rather than being put into stasis, his captors have left him to rot.

But there's one small problem: Pietas is immortal...

A Blast of Light

The infernal, cheerful whistling began again. Pietas tried in vain to escape the sound. Shackled at the ankles, hands bound behind him, he remained flat on his back. There were no comfort choices inside his pod.

No. Not his pod. He would never claim such a place.

The prison pod. The nightmare pod. A casket for the living.

Would that whistling never end?

Whoever guarded him whistled, night and day. He must have lips made of steel. How a human kept that up day after day was beyond him. Or perhaps... Did an Ultra guard him? Had one of his people come to free him?

Pietas opened his mouth to call out, and clamped it shut.

If it were one of his people, he needed to wait for them to act. They would do so when the time was right. For now, he suffered bouts of agony as feeling returned to his hands and then left in repeating cycles. His metabolism healed him, but brought pain. He focused on that, accepted the pain, welcomed it, and examined every step of its journey through his body. What one understood, one could bear.

An Ultra does not seek to escape pain. If one inflicts pain, one must bear it. Pain must be borne. Pain is a warrior's ally.

He hovered in a nightmare-filled, windowless, endless monotony of thirst and hunger.

Punctuated with unending lilts of bouncy, alert, happy, chipper whistling.

At first, he'd welcomed the sound. The rising and falling notes broke the tedium of everlasting darkness. It stopped for brief periods, but began again soon after.

He'd considered calling out and asking them to stop. He had gone so far as to open his mouth. But asking implied weakness. He acknowledged no tool of torture.

Beg mercy from humans? Never.

This was not stasis. Stasis meant cessation of thought. Of emotion. A dreamless kind of sleep. The end of awareness. A not-time.

They'd frozen his people in these pods, but they'd imprisoned him.

Or perhaps his blood ran so hot, no human force could freeze him.

The tune changed.

For the love of all that's holy, will you shut up!

Blessed silence fell. But then light blared in his face like a blast of horns.

What fresh perdition was this? They'd tortured him with darkness. Now they'd torture him with light?

Pietas tried to force his eyes open, to face the torture, but after so long in darkness, the light stabbed his eyes. He twisted his head to avoid it.

"You-- you're awake?" The startled voice hovered close, muffled by the pod. "Security! Security! Prisoner Six-Six-Six is out of stasis! I say again, Prisoner Six-Six-Six is out of stasis!"

The alarm in the male voice gave Pietas a measure of pride. Even imprisoned, he engendered fear. They had taken away his name, and given him a number that among humans meant a demonic beast.

Let the legend of Pietas--by name or by number--bring fear straight into the heart of man. No... let it bring terror.

The alarmed voice led him to another thought. Had they not known he was awake? No. These vile creatures had readouts of every type. How could one mistake his beating heart and steady breath for anything other than wakefulness and life? They meant to keep him aware and suffering. They knew.

But whoever was guarding him hadn't. Pietas might hate humans, but he knew the difference between genuine alarm and fake fear. He'd been instigating the real thing for centuries.

Interesting. He could use that.

His eyes adjusted to the light, and he focused on the face hovering over the small window above him.

Was that...Ghost Six?

The light cut off, taking with it the familiar comfort of sight. Pietas bit the inside of his cheek to keep silent.

First Conqueror, War Leader of the Ultras, did not beg.

He did not. He did not.
---

 

A captive of the people he loathes, the immortal Pietas is left for dead on the planet Sempervia. Six, a human soldier who is abandoned with him, offers food and water. A human, offering friendship? This must be another trap,
Pietas must do the one thing he detests. Trust a human...
Bringer of Chaos series
Amazon and Kindle Unlimited 
https://books2read.com/u/4DovO7


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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 works in progress or previously published books by possibly new-to-you authors. Thank you for stopping by. Please say hello or leave a note in the comments.

Giveaway for #GOT fans: dragon jewelry, map of Westeros and more #GameOfThrones

Giveaway for #GOT fans: dragon jewelry, map of Westeros and more #GameOfThronesJoin us for a “Game of Thrones” inspired event where everybody wins!

Dariel Raye, one of my author friends, invited me to join her in celebration of the many worlds of paranormal romance, sci-fi, and urban fantasy.

Together, the authors pooled funds to provide cool Game of Thrones fandom-themed prizes and goodies.

Giveaway will include:

Maps of Westeros
Khal Drogo miniature
Dragon jewelry
plus swag packs of goodies!

Here’s how to enter:

To take part, visit the giveaway page https://wp.me/P5xE8E-t3
You’ll find book covers from all the authors who are taking part. Click the covers and you’ll be taken to that author’s Amazon page where you can check them out and find new books.
You can enter the contest by taking part in the Raffle Copter giveaway. Sign up for newsletters from the authors of your choice. You will sign up ONLY for the ones you want — not everyone.

When you request a newsletter, you will receive free e-books and entry into the fandom contest.

When you sign up for mine, you’ll receive four illustrated books, including Chaos, featuring the Bringer of Chaos, my immortal king Pietas. My members have a choice between getting Science Fiction only newsletters or newsletters with Science Fiction plus Romance, and all my members get access to exclusive goodies and links.

Good luck in the Giveaway!

These “Game of Thrones” items have been hand-picked for fans of the award-winning HBO series and combined into 3-swag packs for our 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners.

We hope to see you there!

What a real thief looks like #SciFi by Kayelle Allen #MFRWhooks

What a real thief looks like #SciFi by Kayelle Allen #MFRWhooks

 

In this scene NarrAy gets a note from an android and Senth sees what a real thief looks like.

Royal District, Royal Arms Hotel Suite 1221   

NarrAy tipped the hotel android and tucked the note he'd delivered into the pocket of her robe. "Senth?" She walked back into the bedroom, heard water running, and poked her head inside the bathroom. Steam frosted the glass-enclosed shower. "Senth, honey, there's a--Whoa!"

Senth was pressed against the glass from his firm buttocks all the way up to his shoulders.

NarrAy gulped against a rush of pheromones. "Uh, there's a...a note."

"What?" Senth stepped away from the glass and came to the opening, both hands in his soapy hair. "I couldn't hear you, sweetie." Shampoo bubbles trickled down his upraised arms, onto his shoulders, and down across his chest. Senth's nose wriggled. He'd done that several times during the night, inhaling her scent.

It shot a tinge of warmth down her. NarrAy cast off her robe and stepped into the shower, right into Senth's slippery, soapy, slick, sexy, and open arms.

* * *

Senth initiated a prescheduled holophone link to Saint-Cyr from a conference room on the third floor of the hotel, far from NarrAy's presence. When a chime announced his Sen'dai was at last online, Senth stood.

Saint-Cyr's image sparkled into being before him.

Senth made a deep bow. "Good morning, Sen'dai."

"You're late." The Harbinger motioned with one hand. "Turn around, slowly. I want to look at you."

Senth obeyed.

"So this is what a thief looks like who thinks he's independent of his Sen'dai."

"Sir?"

"Don't play coy with me, Senthys." Saint-Cyr seated himself. The background of the room did not appear, nor the chair he used. His image floated. "Sit down. We need to talk."

"Yes, sir." He pulled a chair away from the table and plunked himself in it.

"And sit up straight."

Senth bristled, but he straightened in the chair.

"Now what is this about Ms. Jorlan not being satisfied?"

She had seemed satisfied when he'd left the room. Senth coughed to mask a grin. "We discovered that the item we recovered indicated there's a related item with more significance."


JOIN US FOR BOOKHOOKS
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 works in progress or previously published books by possibly new-to-you authors. Thank you for stopping by. Please say hello or leave a note in the comments.

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