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When Your Villain isn’t a Villain #writerslife #amediting

Villain: wicked or evil person; someone who does evil deliberately; principal bad character in a film or work of fiction (WordWeb). I’d like to add to that: character who refuses to cooperate with your plot.

When Your Villain isn't a Villain #writerslife #amediting @kayelleallenI started with the definition of villain so we both speak the same language. Mine was named Pietas and he was the bad guy in a book I’d written, edited, rewritten, re-edited, and restarted nine times since 2008.

I picked it back up, considered it, and set it aside again multiple more times before I realized my problem was not with the plot, the hero, or the concept. It was the villain.

My problem was with my immortal Ultra, Pietas.

He would not do any of the things I thought a bad guy should do. Seriously? A villain who doesn’t even swear? What kind of bad guy is that? Although he had used a “bad word” in a book no longer in print, that was me badly writing his character to fit my “vision” of who he was. It felt wrong at the time but I didn’t listen to my gut. I should have.

Like any proper scoundrel, Pietas was cold and inhuman and his followers obeyed him without question. But unlike the usual dastardly-deed-doer, the minions of Pietas followed him out of loyalty. I’d missed something in creating this villain of mine and I didn’t know what it was. I figured I had to either put the book away forever or find a way to make Pietas behave.

Those who know the Bringer of Chaos are laughing right now. Make Pietas do what? Right!

Talking to a writer friend, I lamented about this frustrating villain and how difficult it was to write about a narcissistic sociopath. She laughed in my face and informed me I couldn’t be more wrong. He was not a villain at all, but a passionate, honorable, and humble man who’d been put in a position of being the heavy.

To which I replied, “No, no. I’m talking about Pietas.” Turned out, so was she. Obviously, I had missed far more than I suspected. But what?

With her help, we set up an “interview” where she would ask me questions and I would answer as Pietas in a free association format. This is a thought process in which ideas, words or images suggest other ideas in a sequence. Using what I already knew about him, I would try to figure out how he’d answer. I’d role play. Why not? Pietas was not only the king of the immortals in my story, he was the Gamemaster in the role-playing game they all obsessed over: Peril.

We agreed to record it so I could go back and listen again. She would ask open-ended questions that couldn’t be answered “yes” or “no” which would elicit conversation. We talked for well over an hour. She asked “Pietas” about his father, how he felt about his mother, why he did not get along with his sister, and why he was so hung up on a previous lover. What had happened to him as a child that made him angry now? What did he hope to accomplish?

By the end, I had a far deeper understanding of the immortal king. I got to know the real person and not the superficial character I’d written. What showed up in other books was the person he presented to the world. In reality, the psychotic front he showed to others was not at all who he was.

That insight changed everything.

I got to work writing his story instead of the one I’d wanted. When I finished Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas and released it, one reviewer said “He’s painted as a complete psycho in other books. It’s really great to get some insight into who he truly is.” Readers told me they felt Pietas was a real person and I was channeling his energy. My heart sang. I’d accomplished my purpose and revealed the true person to the world. Although, now I had to deal with Pietas, who wasn’t all that happy about the big reveal! I’ve sweet-talked him into bringing his truth into the light, so we should see several more books in his series.

I’ve been busy writing the sequel to the Origin of Pietas. I’m on the last few pages now. Here’s the blurb for the new book, Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire. (updated cover on the way)

Reviving after death isn’t all it’s cracked up to be and wounds of the heart take forever.

When Pietas reunites with the immortal Ultra people he was born to lead, they reject his human friend, Six, a member of Ghost Corps. Ghosts, their most feared adversaries, are resurrected special ops soldiers who possess enough strength to perma-kill Ultras.

Six is taken hostage, and Pietas must free his friend, deal with the brutal father he’s detested since childhood, make amends with his sister, and rescue his ailing mother. Meanwhile, the tempestuous affair he rekindles with a beautiful, telepathic warrior he’s adored for centuries lays bare long-held and deadly secrets.

The gift of telepathy he’s always wished for activates at the worst possible time, but it gives him one huge advantage. He bonds with an ally who harbors every bit as much hatred for his father as Pietas does: a tribe of genetically enhanced panthers. As much as he loves these noble creatures, connecting with their feral bloodlust threatens to undermine his legendary self-control.

How can he even hope love will withstand the unstoppable berserker rage within the Bringer of Chaos? If it can’t, Ghost Corps will be the last thing Ultras need to fear.

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Pick up Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas

Character Flaws: Narcissism, Writing Pietas #PietasFans #SciFi

Origin of Pietas: Bringer of Chaos - #SciFi #SpaceOperaOne way writers allow readers to connect with a hero is to give him serious character flaws. In  Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas, Pietas begins as an arrogant narcissist with a superiority complex. He is sooo above puny humans... but in this book, his immortal life could end when he winds up at the mercy of one.

Character Flaws

In this scene between the immortal Pietas and his father, the two are arguing a familiar topic: humans. To establish the main character's chief flaw, it's important to reveal it as close to the opening as possible. This conversation begins on the first page, but we join it here a few pages later. Pietas is speaking.

"You want us to treat humans as equals. They never treated us as such. Even now, we're hated and reviled. Putting them on the council will make them haughtier. I want nothing to do with humans."

"Then you want nothing to do with me, Son. Humans are all I care about."

And wasn't that the naked truth of his father's betrayal? He had turned his back on their people. He had turned his back on his son.

"You're right, Father. I want nothing to do with you. I care nothing for mortals. They all die."

"You were elected by the council and you serve at their pleasure." He jabbed a finger at the ground. "They want this treaty. Remember that."

"I never forsake duty." Pietas twitched his fingers, dismissing him. He waited until Mahikos reached the door. "Did it never occur to you?"

His father faced him. "What?"

"The council elected me to head these talks and removed you. You want to bring in humans. I do not. Perhaps the council hates humans more than you think."

A wave of aggravation emanated from Mahikos. Licks of emotional flame scorched Pietas's skin. Accustomed to the pain, he did not flinch.

"Son, surely you realize they elected you to keep you close and control you."

"To control--" Pietas broke into laughter. "Did they? How unenlightened." He shrugged. "Well, they can try. I must say, your annoyance today is a refreshing change from your usual indifference. I'd begun wondering if you had any emotions regarding my takeover. It must nettle, knowing your lowly son succeeded your rule."

"No one would consider you lowly."

Pietas lifted his chin. "Except you."

"I'm surprised you even bothered to show up, as much as you hate humans."

"It's nothing personal. I hate humans no more than a physician hates germs yet still takes time to eradicate them. Humans are dangerous."

"Humans are the reason we exist."

"Perhaps that was true in your reality. Humans have abused, misused, and betrayed their creations throughout their history. This peace everyone clamors for comes from concern about humans. I care less than nothing about them. As for their good graces? I have no faith they exist."

"You know, Pietas, one day you'll rely on the mercy of humans."

"You think humans show mercy? How amusing."

Head down, Mahikos rubbed a spot between his eyes. "I hope I'm there to see it. When you realize even humans have value, that will be a good day for all of us."

"How well you preach love." If only his father gave it half as well.

"Son, when the conference starts tomorrow, all your mother and I ask is that you try to be gracious."

"I'm certain I already am." He toyed with the circlet. "Just this morning when I knocked on your chamber door, I heard Mother say, 'Oh gracious. That must be Pietas.'"

"Why can you not be serious about this?"

"I consider these talks of utmost importance. It is you I do not take seriously."

---

Okay -- now tell me, aren't you irritated with Pietas right now? If I've done my job as a writer, you will be. However, as you walk in his shoes (or lack of them) through the rest of the story, you'll gain an insight into his arrogance and his hate-love-hate relationship with his father. One reviewer wrote that by the end, she loved this man (Pietas) she had been driven to hate.

Writing a character with serious flaws is like buying a diamond in the rough. You know the gem is in there. It takes time to grind and polish down to the good part.

Any of my characters mentioned on this page might be found in multiple books in my story universe. Download a printable book list and check them off as you read.


~ Copyright ©2024 Kayelle Allen. All rights reserved ~ Kayelle Allen participates in the Amazon Services LLC Associates program, an affiliate advertising program which provides the means for sites to earn fees by advertising and linking to Amazon.com. Amazon and the Amazon logo are trademarks of Amazon.com. If you purchase an item listed on the site from Amazon.com, Kayelle will earn a small commission. Other sites might be affiliate links as well. These will not result in higher prices for you. Thank you for your support!


To experience art, sci-fi, romance, and space opera with unstoppable, unshakeable, unforgettable characters so real you'll swear you've met them, join my newsletter.

When the World Unravels #scifi #romance

When the World Unravels #BookHooks #scifi #romance A snippet from BroBookHooks is a blog hop where authors share only a small snippet of a story, an enticement to read more.

Today’s snippet is from Bro, the Story Behind the Antonello Brothers. Other books in the series include At the Mercy of Her Pleasure and For Women Only. Bro is free on this website. The other two are free on Kindle Unlimited.

Khyff Antonello is off work for the day and heading for a well-earned rest. When his client mentions he knows someone with the same last name as Khyff, it gets his attention. Then he hears the person is a HalfKin like the brother he thought was dead.

“No, never mind. He wouldn’t be related to you. I just remembered. He’s a HalfKin.”

Half-human, half-feline humanoid Kin.

All the air left the room. Khyff fought to drag in a breath. “What’s his name?”

“Seth, I think. No, Senth. Yeah, that’s it. Senth Antonello.”

The light grayed around the edges.

The guy took a step forward, concern on his face. “Hey, Khyff, you okay? You look a little pale.”

Hearing the name Senth Antonello catapulted Khyff back into the past. To the point in his life when his world had unraveled, torn itself apart and dumped him into hell. He hit the floor with a smack that stung his hands and knees and he crumpled.


Bro, the Story Behind the Antonello Brothers
When you can make yourself invisible, invisible truths are revealed.
Senth and Khyff, the Antonello Brothers from At the Mercy of Her Pleasure and For Women Only, did not grow up together. They were separated at Senth’s birth. Bro shows how and why, and what event reunited them.
Join the Romance Lives Forever Reader Group and get a free copy of Bro, the Story Behind the Antonello Brothers https://kayelleallen.com/bro plus three more books at the same time.

When you can make yourself invisible, invisible truths are revealed. Share on X

At the Mercy of Her Pleasure
He’s a thief. She’s a soldier. Do opposites attract? Oh, mercy!
Amazon https://amzn.to/1f7FQ2h

For Women Only
His secret truth is her people’s darkest lie.
Amazon https://amzn.to/1f7Ge0P

Joss and Pietas meet (from Forged in Fire, a sweet scifi romance) #excerpt #Scifi

I’m writing the sequel to book one in the Bringer of Chaos series. The first was Origin of Pietas, the second is Forged in Fire. In it, we get a lovely flashback of his first love. When Joss and Pietas meet for the first time, he is young, isolated, and alone. This is from the work in progress. May have final edits before being released. Currently, it’s on track for Sept 2017.

Joss and Pietas Meet (Excerpt)

Joss and Pietas meet (from Forged in Fire, a sweet scifi romance) #excerpt #MFRWhooks @kayelleallen

Pietas didn’t sleep with Joss until he was twenty, but he fell in love with her at first sight.

He was sixteen. She was ageless.

The older woman had plucked him off the streets, fed and clothed him, given him a job and dignity. That wasn’t why he’d slept with her. It had taken several years to become her lover because he didn’t know how to ask. She told him later he’d been too young to know what he wanted and she’d promised herself she wouldn’t make the first move. This time, he knew how it was done, he had no intention of waiting, and he knew exactly what he wanted. Her.

As he hiked beside her, he recalled that first meeting. He’d been starving, standing in lines to join work crews. For days. No one would hire him. He had no identification. No money. His father had thrown him out with nothing. Obtaining his own weapons hadn’t been difficult. He’d wagered his skill to gain those. But a job? He had no war campaigns to claim and no ID to acquire passage for one. He was too proud to steal and far too proud to beg. He refused to buy falsified documents. He’d either earn his keep the right way or he’d starve.

Once you sell your honor, nothing else has value.

Once you sell your honor, nothing else has value. -- Pietas #Quotes Share on X

The day had grown late and it had started raining. He ducked into a covered alley and huddled against the wall for protection from the wind. The greasy food cooking at the diner across the street had started smelling good two days ago. Skinny Ultras stopped by the diner’s back door every night and accepted a handful of scraps. A few picked through leavings. He would bear stomach cramps forever before he’d do that.

A female soldier passing by slowed, looked him up and down, and then stopped. She wore an officer’s uniform: simple black jacket, white blouse, black skirt, shiny shoes. “Hello.”

He stood taller. Finger-combing his hair, he smiled at her. “Hello.”

“Are you looking for work?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She entered the alley, gesturing for him to accompany her.

He turned to follow, staggering with dizziness. No matter what kind of work she needed done, he would find a way to do it, hungry or not. Once they reached the alley’s deepest end, she pulled up her skirt and held out paper money.

It took a moment for it to register what she expected him to do. He’d never been around any women other than his mother and sister. Did people…do that…in an alley? Surely not. He must be mistaken. Surely she needed something else and he had misunderstood.

When he just stood there, she gestured with the money. “I don’t have all day, do you want this or not?”

He turned and fled and didn’t slow down until he reached the Ultra’s union hall. There, he dropped onto the ground in the drizzling rain, back against the wall. Arms resting on upraised knees, he hung his head, sopping wet, cold and miserable.

“Hello?” called a gentle voice.

“I am not for sale!” He clenched his teeth and glared up at her.

“That’s good to know.” The woman looking down at him was not the one who’d offered to buy him earlier.

Pietas clambered to his feet.

Unlike his platinum blond, her hair held tones of gold. Kind blue eyes seemed to look right through him. The rain had ceased and a beam of sunlight illuminated her. Seeing her, a man could believe in angels.

He pushed hair out of his face. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Are you Pietas?”

“I am.” Was this someone who could hire him? It wouldn’t do to look sloppy in front of her. He drew back his sodden hair into a tail and tossed it over his shoulder. Wiping wet hands on wetter clothes, he held himself in militarily correct posture. “How do you know me?”

“From your mother’s description.”

“My mother?” A wave of homesickness arose in him so strong he lost his breath. He might be new to the greater Ultra world, but he hadn’t been raised a fool. He kept his distance. “How do you know her?”

“Helia and I were created at the same time. She was scientist class and I was warrior, but we became friends. I introduced her to Mahikos. Thankfully, she doesn’t hold that against me.” A wry smile tilted her mouth. “She called me, told me she had a son named Pietas and a daughter named Dessy. She said you and your father had a fight and asked me to look for you. She sends her love.”

“You must be Joss!”

“That’s right.”

“Growing up, Mother told me all about you. She said you were the sister she never had.”

“Did she?” Her amusement came through the aether, as warm and embracing as his mother’s had ever been. “I’m glad to know that. I wish she’d told me about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That isn’t your fault.”

“Is Mother here? Have you seen her?”

“No. But she was worried so I said I’d try to find you. Looks like I did. She said to try the work halls. This should have been the first place I looked.” Smiling, she spread her hands. “But I finally found you.”

Surely it wasn’t wrong to fall in love so fast. Mother had said not to trust strange women, and from his experience with the one earlier, she’d been right. But this was Joss. Her friend and sister. Pietas took two steps toward her, stopped himself and stuck his hands in his pockets.

Joss offered her hand. When he shook it, she clasped both of hers around his.

The moment she touched him he knew he would survive. He could do anything. His life was not over before it began. He’d had no idea then she was using her gift of Clarity to help him see his path. All he knew was this amazing woman cared about him.

“Thank you for looking for me. Finding me.”

“My pleasure.” She slid her fingertips down his jaw, out to the dimple in his chin and released him. “Now, let’s get you off these streets, into some dry clothes, and find you a meal. If you want to, you can call your mother.”

(download a pdf of the Joss and Pietas meet excerpt taken from Bringer of Chaos: Forged in Fire, sweet science fiction romance – coming soon)

Three ways to know when this book is released:

Get one email notification http://authoralarms.com/Kayelle_Allen
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Inside Peek: For Women Only #scifi #romance #sweet

Inside Peek: For Women Only #scifi #romance #sweetIn Inside Peek: For Women Only we meet Mehfawni Ruh, a Kin ambassador who visits the capitol planet of the Tarthian Empire. She meets security expert Khyff Antonello, a human. She falls for the angst-ridden young man and showers him with gifts meant to show her intention of keeping him. A death in her family forces Fawni to return home, but she can’t bear to part with Khyff and takes him along. Her family demands she cast out the human, or abdicate her future rule.
When Fawni searches for an alternative, she stumbles upon Khyff’s secret. The cover-up, if exposed, will betray her world to its enemies and bare her family to open shame. Her duty is clear. Yet how can she leave Khyff to suffer in the darkness that binds his heart?
His secret truth is her people’s darkest lie.

Inside Peek: For Women Only (Excerpt)

In this scene from For Women Only, Khyff awakens beside Mehfawni, the feline-humanoid Kin ambassador to the Tarthian Empire. He’d been ordered to seduce her, part of a complicated ploy by the Empress, who wants to remove Mehfawni from the Kin line of succession. It took no time on Khyff’s part. The moment Mehfawni saw the gorgeous blond and blue-eyed human, she pursued him. Khyff has always been a plaything for others to enjoy, never a person to get to know. Until he meets Fawni.

Khyff drifted off to sleep, more comfortable than he could remember being in years and woke sometime later to the feel of a hand sliding down his abs and across his belly. He opened his eyes.

When she noticed he was watching her, mild surprise widened Mehfawni’s big golden eyes with their jade green flecks. “Oh, you’re awake.”

Mmm.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you. You looked…” She sighed. “I wanted to touch you. You’re so smooth.”

“It’s okay. You can touch me any time you like.” He stretched. It felt good to be rested. No light showed at the windows. “What time is it?”

She shrugged. “I pay no attention to such things. Local time. Tradestandard time. Time zones. Time to hold council. Time to sleep.” She hooked her claws into the air, a picture of frustration. “My staff open doors and pour wine and feed me. They lay out my clothes and draw my bath. All the rest of my life is work.” She dragged the tips of her claws down his body.

Khyff’s skin jumped, still hypersensitive after their riotous lovemaking.

“This–” she stroked his belly “–is outside time. This is my time. I will not look at clocks while I’m with you.”

Warmth swept over him that had nothing to do with sex. He turned the feeling over in his mind, unsure what to make of it, and held out his arms.

She moved into his embrace, body flush against his at leg and groin, skin pressed against his. She lay half atop him, leaning a bit to one side, propped on one elbow.

“Are you hungry, Khyff?”

He hadn’t noticed until she asked. “Starving. I have plenty of food in the kitchen. What would you like?”

“Besides you?”

“You can have me, too.”

She tapped his nose and sat up. “I want to take you out to dinner. In Tarth City, surely there is always food ready somewhere.”

“I know plenty of places.” They had told him to prepare to be spoiled. Kin females were accustomed to being in charge. Khyff hadn’t mentioned he was used to women paying his way. They liked to flaunt him to their friends and display him like a new charm on their wrist bracelets. Look what I bought.

“Somewhere quiet.” Mehfawni folded her legs, elbows on her knees. “I don’t wish others to gawk at you when you’re with me.”

Download another For Women Only sample. This one contains the first full chapter of the book. It opens in a new window.

Publisher Romance Lives Forever Books https://bit.ly/bro-womenprint-kl
This book is free on Kindle Unlimited
Amazon https://amzn.to/1f7Ge0P
Amazon (print) https://books2read.com/ab-for-her-only
CreateSpace (Print) https://bit.ly/bro-women-csp
The prequel for this book is At the Mercy of Her Pleasure.
Bro is a free short story set before this book opens. Get a copy here: https://kayelleallen.com/bro
Grab both At the Mercy of Her Pleasure and For Women Only plus a third book all in one boxed set. Available on the author’s website.

Kayelle Allen is a best-selling American author. Her unstoppable heroes and heroines include contemporary every day folk, role-playing immortal gamers, futuristic covert agents, and warriors who purr.
Books https://bit.ly/kayelle-books
Homeworld/Blog https://kayelleallen.com
Twitter https://twitter.com/kayelleallen
Facebook https://facebook.com/kayelleallen.author

10 Memorable Luc Quotes #scifi #bookquote

Here are ten Luc Quotes. These “pearls of wisdom” come from the man referred to by many in the Tarthian Empire as the Harbinger. An alpha among alphas, the immortal Luc commands attention without being vain or flashy and he gains respect by his true concern for others. Cross him however, and there is no place in the universe to hide. Luc Saint-Cyr has been in all my Tarth books and is one of the heroes in my work in progress. I chose a few from each book. Other characters have stated they decided what to do after asking themselves, “What would Luc do?”

The book is listed in which the Luc quotes are found, then the occasion of the quote.

10 Memorable Luc Quotes #scifi #bookquote

Luc Quotes from At the Mercy of Her Pleasure

To Senth about NarrAy

“Listen to me, my young Deshai. Despite the romantic nonsense you’ve heard about Betters being extraordinary lovers, their kisses can poison you. If her saliva mixes with yours, she can control your mind. The touch of her hands will drive you insane. There are ancient myths about sirens, women who used their voices to lure men and then slay them. Betters aren’t mythical. They’re real. If she subjects you to her passion, you’ll be at the mercy of her pleasure forever.”

To Khyff, who had been falsely imprisoned

“Know the law?” The Harbinger stood, and then laughed, obviously enjoying himself. “Son, I’ve been breaking it for so many years, I know it better than any of those high-paid courtside braggarts. Besides, none of the lawyers I contacted had enough clout. I got you a judge who’ll be fair and impartial.”

To Khyff, who had delivered a coded message for him

“I can see why you were so popular at Stalkos’s place, Khyffen. You know when to shut up, and you don’t talk back.” The Harbinger made a wave of dismissal. “Fact is, my young Senthys is ready to take wing. He’s been scratching at the nest for months. Ever since you came into his life. The way he took on the task of seeing to your freedom…” He shook his head. “Senth has been impressed with you since the day you met. So have I.”

Luc Quotes from For Women Only

10 Memorable Luc Quotes #scifi #bookquote

To Khyff upon his refusing to accept a job

Saint-Cyr remained silent. With his all-black eyes, there was no telling where he looked. Finally, he nodded. “It won’t be easy finding another detail-oriented, by-the-book, stringent, weaned-on-pickle-juice hard-ass like you. But I’ll try.”

To Khyff about Senth

Saint-Cyr tossed himself back against the cushions of the car seat. “Do you suppose the woman who ordered him killed at birth knew she was his grandmother?”

To Khyff about two cops who refused to protect Luc’s son, Senth

“They’re ready for you.” Saint-Cyr motioned to him. While they walked, he explained the charges. “They’re holding her on two counts of murder by pheromones, violation of Better Laws, treason, harboring a criminal, and reckless endangerment of public officials. She was protecting Senth. She had to threaten to kill both cops that showed up before they’d call an ambulance for Senth, because he was a HalfKin.” He threw up his hands. “The fact that he’s my son should’ve sent them running for help.” His piercing black eyes narrowed. “They were both killed an hour ago. Line of duty, so they say.”

Luc Quotes from Wulf, Tales of the Chosen

To Wulf about an enemy Wulf tried to frighten off by being seen with Luc

“Four reasons.” He laid a hand next to the shot glass. “First, the concept of scaring off one bad guy with a bigger one rarely works. That brings us to the second, which assumes your agent will fear me. He may not. Although, unless he’s a fool, he should. Third, you didn’t simply ask for my help. Fourth, you assumed I would agree to being used.”

Luc Quotes from Alitus, Tales of the Chosen

To Empress Rheyn Destoiya about Wulf and Alitus sneaking off together

“The security tail I put on Wulf said he gave them the slip at an art gallery. He was seen walking through the place with a Better less than an hour ago. A Better who was accompanied by armed Praetorian. Unless you have Praetorian guarding anyone other than Alitus, that was him. Right now, neither of them is in sight and my goons can’t find him. What am I paying them for if they can’t keep him in sight for five minutes?”

Luc Quotes from Jawk, Tales of the Chosen

To Jawk upon his arrival at Luc’s home

“I’m pleased to finally meet you, Jawk.” The man’s voice had a deep timbre befitting his size. Tall as a Kin, taller than Jawk. Broad shoulders filled out his tux. Wulf had been elegance; Luc was power.

To Jawk who argues that Luc’s ship can’t possibly work

“Do you know what the word shibboleth means? It’s an ancient word to describe the way a culture speaks. ‘Physics laws are immutable’ is a NETway shibboleth. They are only immutable to those who lack the technology to change them.”

Want to know more about Luc, or about these books? You can read sample chapters from each one at the links below. Each opens to a page on this website.

At the Mercy of Her Pleasure
For Women Only
Wulf, Tales of the Chosen
Alitus, Tales of the Chosen
Jawk, Tales of the Chosen

Daredevil Immortals and Extreme #sports

I write about immortals, so I think about things that might affect them. My characters often do daredevil things that mortals wouldn’t dream of doing, such as walk toward someone who’s shooting at them. Superman much?

That made me start wondering what I would do if I knew I wouldn’t die? I might be quite daring. I might even take financial risks if I knew I’d recoup my losses and not die penniless. No — none of that is true. I’m a scaredy cat. 🙂 But I live a vicarious daredevil life through my immortals.

My daredevil immortals would try…

Daredevil Immortals and Extreme #sports @kayelleallen
An Immortal’s Guide to Tarth

Dancing on a rooftop during a thunderstorm.
Fire walking — the act of walking barefoot over a bed of hot embers or stones (my immortals can only die permanently from fire, being vaporized, or completely torn to pieces.
Parasailing — being towed behind a boat or other vehicle while attached to an oversized kite.
Skydiving – jumping out of a perfectly good airplane — on purpose.
Bungee jumping — jumping off something high while tied by the ankles to a springy tube.
Glacier Surfing – wait for a chunk of a glacier to break off, and then ride a surfboard along the wave it kicks up.
Mountain climbing – especially mountains like Everest, K2, and any place where you hang upside down while clinging to rocks with your fingertips.
Extreme Surfing – you have to be especially crazy to be towed out to the biggest waves.
Anything having to do with bulls — riding, running, fighting, etc.
BASE jumping (Buildings, Antennas, Spans, or Earth) which in some circles is called “attempted suicide”.
Storm chasing – find a tornado or other storm to follow and get as close as possible to watch or record it.
In the Tarthian Empire, there’s a sport called Ruckball. It’s played on a low gravity field and is a cross between soccer, football, and wrestling. Not for the faint of heart even to watch!
Finally, a sport I can’t imagine any sane person doing in any empire: cave diving. First you have to scuba dive down to the cave, then swim around in it without getting lost or running out of air. If the lights go out, you can’t even see. Who is crazy enough to do that?

Even if I was immortal I don’t think I’d try any of these, because they all tend to freak me out. I am NOT a daredevil. I play it safe. What would be on your list if you were immortal? How much of a daredevil are you? Which of these sports have you tried? Share it in the comments.

Immortal warriors don’t take orders. They take over. #scifi

Imagine immortal warriors who spend eternity alone, watching mortal friends age and die, century after century, thousands of years on end, battling untold wars. Recalling lovers brings such pain, it’s better to forget. Why would anyone want to go on?

Immortal Warriors – and Gamers

Immortal warriors don't take orders. They take over #scifiHumans created genetically-designed creatures to make life easier. Humans themselves disdained such enhancements, and within a few generations, the title Human Pure identified those who had never commingled blood or accepted genetic changes. Genslaves did the work; humans reaped the benefits. Depending on the job required, each genslave could be telepathic, empathic, shape-shifting, half animal, or a pleasure giver, and some were illusion casters. However, genslaves were also the finest scientists, healers, artists, and teachers.

Nothing normal described the warriors. All had various enhanced skills. Too powerful to kill, they regenerated no matter how catastrophic the wound. Immortal warriors do not take orders.. They take control.

It took many centuries before a traitor within their ranks helped trap the invincible army. Imprisoned on a world dubbed Sempervia, far out on the galaxy’s rim, these immortal warriors had no way home. With little more than a handful of farming tools and a few crates of seeds, the exiles faced a battle unlike any that had come before. In a twist of irony, the ragged and starving immortals died, only to rise again and face one more bleak day of survival.

Thousands of years later, those same half-million now live as one with the world they’ve transformed into a paradise. There are no children. All are barren. Calling themselves Reborn, they take pains to hide their world from outsiders, and are peace-loving, docile, and content.

Except for one hundred renegades and their leader, Pietas. They refuse to forgive their expulsion from their birthright — their loss of freedom to roam the galaxy. One hundred and one live for revenge. Rejecting the pacifist name Reborn, the exiles called themselves Sempervians. The name means ever living.

Immortal Warriors on Sempervia

Pietas held his people together by preaching a doctrine that only death made life meaningful. Peril is a real-time role-playing game lived out in forty-year increments. As the Gamemaster, Pietas oversees details of his followers’ lives. Players strive during each lifetime to achieve goals against friends who are adversaries or allies, depending on the toss of the dice. They crave wining at all costs. Peril pits empires and worlds against powers far beyond any mortal’s ability to know, understand, or even glimpse.

To fail means a solid year of Penance at the hands of the Gamemaster, Pietas. Repeated, daily deaths. Dying and coming back at their peak age. The Gamemaster plays no favorites, grants no mercy, even to the one he loves — the one follower who has challenged Pietas throughout the centuries but cannot bring himself to love Pietas back the way he himself is loved, yet defers to the Gamemaster’s power. Cyken Tomarus, known in this lifetime as Luc Saint-Cyr.

No one leaves Peril. If the others don’t hunt you down, or the android referees can’t find you, the galaxy is full of bounty hunters eager for a scalp, and no price is too high to pay for a traitor. No mercy awaits immortal warriors dragged back for Pietas’s wrath.

Assisting in the game are the Chosen, generations of mortals who know the secrets of the Sempervians and vow to make their transitions from life to life possible, a rare few ending up as lovers of their immortal masters. Two such Chosen were Wulf, once belonging to Luc Saint-Cyr, and Alitus, once belonging to Empress Rheyn Destoiya. These Chosens’ unforgivable sin was to fall in love with each other, thereby pitting the two strongest players — former allies — against one another.

Immortal warriors don't take orders. They take control. #scifi

Pietas declared the two Chosen untouchable, safe within his keeping, and he watches from afar. The story plays out among the worlds of the Tarthian Empire. He reveals that a few decades earlier, he created a group of “Changelings.” Death or an infusion of immortal blood awakens dormant cells to begin their transformation into an immortal. The Chosen Alitus is one. Others wait, reared by mortals as mortals, without knowledge of their rightful heritage.

Who is next?

Who are the next Changelings? Will they be immortal warriors? Or perhaps they will bring Peril to a riotous end. Subscribe to the Romance Lives Forever Reader Group and find out as each new book reveals more of the truth.

Details, details. Ritual is everything #scifi

When I decided to write about the immortal warrior Pietas, who’s been the villain in several of my books, I thought he might have issues with details. You know, the type that makes you adjust and readjust a picture, straighten a towel, or minutely focus the volume of a song. Boy was I right! And I thought I was insistent on details? In the beginning of the book, Pietas performs a ritual before entering into peace talks with a group of humans. The ritual is designed to help him focus, and he repeats it later in the book. It’s when he puts on the mask shown in the cover. Pietas has a mantra that he repeats a half dozen times in the book, to remind himself he will survive; he will overcome. His singleminded devotion to duty makes him one of the most implacable, indomitable warriors ever born.

After the ritual and its details are complete in the beginning of the book, his sister (who aids him) asks if he’s ready for the peace talks. Pietas says, “No. I’m ready for war.” Here’s a peek at the ritual.

Early on the first morning of the peace talks, Pietas entered his round bathing room. Starlight filtered through the portal overhead. Sleek silver walls reflected the cool light.

He remained at the door, content to savor its calming glow. Its beauty did not dispel the worry niggling at his mind. Not given to trusting premonitions and omens, he grounded himself with meditation. Once he centered himself and calmed his spirit, Pietas took a deep, purifying breath, and with slow deliberation, exhaled.

“Time to begin. Lights.”

The room brightened.

He shed his silk robe and let it fall at his feet. Nude, his platinum hair streaming down his back and chest, he lifted his hands, palms up as if praying.

On the planet Kaffir, warriors used this ritual to summon spirits. He used it to affirm his own superior strength and prowess.

Before a copper fire pit, he plucked one blond hair, and fed it to the fire. It singed and melted.

“As fire has victory over life, so I have victory over my enemies.”

He passed a hand through the flame, and hissed at the searing heat, relishing the pain. He cupped his hand over the flame’s source, and held it until the fire went out. The burns on his palm cooled, and as he watched, the skin healed. Of all the elements, fire alone had power to linger on an Ultra’s skin. He welcomed it as a symbol of victory.

“I am powerful, as fire is powerful.”

Pietas thrust both hands forward, clutched his fists, and yanked them back.

“I own the wind. I prevail over the breath of my enemies.”

In the bathing area, he took six steps down into a waist-deep pool.

“Water submits to my presence the way enemies submit to my will.”

He cupped water in his hands, lifted it, and let it pour down his arms.

“The blood of my enemies trickles into the pool of time, is absorbed, and forgotten.”

He pushed wet fingers through his hair, and released it.

“My mind is clear. I do not waver.”

He Details, details. Ritual is everything #scifisubmersed, and rose, head thrown back, face lifted to the sparkle of stars above.

“My body submits to my will. No pain defeats me. No fear touches me.”

He swept his hands down his chest to his loins, and the tops of his thighs.

“My will is absolute.”

A scratching sound alerted him to the presence of his silver-skinned android servant. The creature entered, and Pietas fixed him with a hard glare. “Why did you interrupt me?”

“Your guest is here, my lord, in the living area.” He offered Pietas a towel.

“Leave it.” He waved the android away.

After exiting the pool, Pietas brushed off the water and wrung out his hair. He pulled out a tray holding half a dozen clasps. He chose a silver dragon studded with six turquoise stones, twisted his wet hair, and fastened it up, out of the way.

He dried his face, gathered a brush, and picked up a pot of black face paint. Leaning in close to a freestanding mirror, he outlined a bandit’s mask from beneath his eyes to over his dark eyebrows, and filled it with black.

He’d worn the mask in battle ever since defeating the First Division, a human special-ops group formed to fight Ultras. It came about because Pietas had slain an enemy, and blood splashed across his eyes. Thinking the blood belonged to Pietas, the Ultra troops had rallied to him and slaughtered the humans. The blood dried almost black.

Stories of how their “bandit king” had conquered the First Division filled the night. The name stuck. To his troops, he was First Conqueror, War Leader of the Ultras.

Pietas turned his head side to side, surveying the effect.

His body would reject foreign matter on his skin. The Ultra metabolism protected from every perceived attack, even harmless face paint. He closed his eyes and sprayed sealant over the mask to delay its disappearance by a few hours.

Satisfied with his looks, Pietas pulled on a pair of loose white lounging pants. With a deep, cleansing breath, he opened the door. Damp, shirtless, barefoot, he padded into the adjacent room.

Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas
Two enemy warriors: one human, one immortal. Different in belief, alike in spirit, marooned together on an alien world.

Imprisoned and in isolation over a year without food or water, the immortal Pietas survives. Though broken in body, his intellect and will are intact, thanks to Six, the special ops warrior who captured him, but kept him sane. The warrior had no hand in his deprivation and, like Pietas, was betrayed by his own kind. When Pietas is abandoned on an alien world with nothing but his honor–and Six–he must find and rejoin other immortal exiles. After centuries of war, Pietas detests humans and kills them on sight, but he is too damaged to continue on his own. Though he despises needing help, he allows Six to nurture and restore him to full strength, and then accompany him. As they cross the planet together on foot, the immortal begins to wonder if he has found his first human friend, or if Six is loyal only because Pietas could keep the others from tearing him to shreds. This human will either be his closest living friend, or the one whose betrayal will trigger all-out vengeance by the most powerful immortal ever born.

Immortal. Warrior. Outcasts. Traitors took everything. Except their honor.
Amazon http://amzn.to/1R8DAbb
CreateSpace http://bit.ly/boc-origin-csp

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Mask? Hey, Bringer of Chaos. What’s up with that? #scifi

The Bringer of Chaos hero wears a black mask painted on his face. It covers his eyes, up to and over the eyebrows. Why?

What’s with the mask?

When I started writing about Pietas, the hero of Bringer of Chaos: the Origin of Pietas, I had no idea he wore a mask. The mask had never been part of my plan. But one day I was searching for a picture of an angel for a graphic design project, and came across this fascinating image of a fallen angel and a horned demon. Since the angel was male and had long blond hair, I was immediately intrigued. Often, angels are portrayed as sweet females who look heavenward with a devoted expression. They seem about as dangerous as milk. However, in Bible stories, one of the first things angels say when they appear is “Fear not.” Why would they say that unless they inspired some kind of fear themselves? And the only named angels have male names. So, yes, I was fascinated to see a male angel. I clicked on the picture to get a better look.

Lo, and behold (sorry, I couldn’t resist that) the person looking out from the image seemed to be staring straight into my soul. I zoomed in to get a better view, and in that instant I knew I was looking at Pietas, despite the mask. He seemed to be saying “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for you.” Look at this face! Arrogance personified. Those teal blue eyes pierce. He’s a dead ringer for Pietas.

Mask? Hey, Bringer of Chaos. What's up with that? #scifi

The photo shoot was a series of images between the one-winged angel and a horned female demon. The angel was being subjected to various bad things by the female, yet portrayed as sensual, rather than defeated. He was enjoying the attempted subjugation, but he wasn’t submitting. How like Pietas.

The problem was, why was Pietas wearing a mask? At that point, I decided it didn’t matter. I liked the image. I bought it and put it aside for later. It would be inspiration for the real character when I wrote him. However, I kept going back and looking at the picture, and thinking “What’s with the mask?”

Pietas is the Gamemaster of Peril, a real-time role-playing game my immortals use as a means of both passing the time and also as a means of manipulating human society. In their various roles within Peril, the immortals introduce certain aspects into society and culture to direct mankind. Why? Peril, in itself, is a mask. It hides the real reason the immortals are among humans. Are they there to subjugate the human race, and turn it to their own collective will? Pietas, as the leader, directs every aspect of it. A little scary, isn’t it? Doesn’t it ring true in today’s society, where we hear conspiracy theories and stories about the illuminati, and secret, powerful groups directing mankind?

When I realized the mask had something to do with the role Pietas held in Peril, I went back and bought more images. The model’s name is Nik Nitsvetov, and he’s Russian. I would love to find images of him in other poses with and without the mask. I think I have everything he’s ever done. [editor’s note: Nik has since done a private cosplay as Pietas – see images in sidebar]

I’m writing books about Pietas. The first takes place in the distant past of my universe and is an origin tale about my immortals. His love story is very sketchy right now. I think I know who Pietas falls in love with, and in the current universe, that person is not a fan of his at all. In fact, that person is trying to undermine his authority and recruit his people away from him. Not a good way to start a relationship. Again, how like Pietas. He never does things the easy way.

Below is an excerpt in which he applies the mask. This is the first time he does it in Bringer of Chaos. The second time, it’s with an entirely different flair and for different reasons. Both scenes pack emotional wallops.

Mask Ritual

Early on the first morning of the peace talks, Pietas entered his round bathing room. Starlight filtered through the portal overhead. Sleek silver walls reflected the cool light.

He remained at the door, content to savor its calming glow. Its beauty did not dispel the worry niggling at his mind. Not given to trusting premonitions and omens, he grounded himself with meditation. Once he centered himself and calmed his spirit, Pietas took a deep, purifying breath, and with slow deliberation, exhaled.

“Time to begin. Lights.”

The room brightened.

His platinum hair streaming down his bare chest, he lifted his hands, palms up as if praying.

On the planet Kaffir, warriors used this ritual to summon spirits. He used it to affirm his own superior strength and prowess.

Before a copper fire pit, he plucked one blond hair, and fed it to the fire. It singed and melted.

“As fire has victory over life, so I have victory over my enemies.”

He passed a hand through the flame, and hissed at the searing heat, relishing the pain. He cupped his hand over the flame’s source, and held it until the fire went out. The burns on his palm cooled, and the skin healed. Of all the elements, fire alone had power to linger on an Ultra’s skin. He welcomed it as a symbol of victory.

“I am powerful, as fire is powerful.”

Pietas thrust both hands forward, clutched his fists, and yanked them back.

“I own the wind. I prevail over the breath of my enemies.”

In the bathing area, he took six steps down into a waist-deep pool.

“Water submits to my presence the way enemies submit to my will.”

He cupped water in his hands, lifted it, and let it pour down his arms.

“The blood of my enemies trickles into the pool of time, is absorbed, and forgotten.”

He pushed wet fingers through his hair, and released it.

“My mind is clear. I do not waver.”

He submersed, and rose, head thrown back, face lifted to the sparkle of stars above.

“My body submits to my will. No pain defeats me. No fear touches me.”

He swept his hands down his chest to his loins, and the tops of his thighs.

“My will is absolute.”

A scratching sound alerted him to the presence of his silver-skinned android servant. The creature entered, and Pietas fixed him with a hard glare. “Why did you interrupt me?”

“Your guest is here, my lord, in the living area.” He offered Pietas a towel.

“Leave it.” He waved the android away.

After exiting the pool, Pietas brushed off the water and wrung out his hair. He pulled out a tray holding half a dozen clasps. He chose a silver dragon studded with six turquoise stones, twisted his wet hair, and fastened it up, out of the way.

He dried his face, gathered a brush, and picked up a pot of black face paint. Leaning in close to a freestanding mirror, he outlined a bandit’s mask from beneath his eyes to over his dark eyebrows, and filled it with black.

He’d worn the mask in battle ever since defeating the First Division, a human special-ops group formed to fight Ultras. It came about because Pietas had slain an enemy, and blood splashed across his eyes. Thinking the blood belonged to Pietas, the Ultra troops had rallied to him and slaughtered the humans. The blood dried almost black.

Stories of how their “bandit king” had conquered the First Division filled the night. The name stuck. To his troops, he was First Conqueror, War Leader of the Ultras.

Pietas turned his head side to side, surveying the effect.

His body would reject foreign matter on his skin. The Ultra metabolism protected from every perceived attack, even harmless face paint. He closed his eyes and sprayed sealant over the mask to delay its disappearance by a few hours.

Satisfied with his looks, Pietas pulled on a pair of loose white lounging pants. With a deep, cleansing breath, he opened the door. Damp, shirtless, barefoot, he padded into the adjacent room.

Read the first chapter
Free on KindleUnlimited
Amazon http://amzn.to/1R8DAbb
Heat level: PG13
Genre: action adventure, science fiction, space opera, military science fiction, space marine, genetic engineering
Publisher: Romance Lives Forever Books
Wordcount: 52,492 (186 pages)