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Marketing for Romance Writers is a peer mentoring group for authors. It was founded in 2006 by Kayelle Allen.

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


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.

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.

You robots can keep your shopping pleasure, thank you #SciFi #MFRWhooks

In this scene from For Women Only, Khyff and Mehfawni have arrived at the largest shopping mall in the empire. Mehfawni is a Kin female and a warrior, and it's natural for her to take charge. When they are greeted by a robotic directory system, she makes a quick decision.  

"Thank you for visiting Tarth City Mall," the robot crooned. "Your shopping pleasure is our only business. How may I increase your shopping pleasure?"

"I think we'll walk around." Mehfawni slipped her hand into Khyff's and turned away. "If we get lost, we'll come back."

Just past the directory was a kiosk labeled "Honey And Leather." Two human males, an Androg, two human females, and a young Tyran male were fastened to it by thin leashes attached to their wrists.

They must be slakes. She couldn't help but stare. None of them looked like whores, but the kiosk signs clearly stated their prices. A male turned and ogled Mehfawni, and the females stared at Khyff in frank appreciation. So did the Androg.

Her mind balked at the idea of Khyff being sold like that. His records said he'd "worked the streets" when he was fifteen, but by the time he'd been sixteen, he'd been "on call". They'd called it "marketing" him--selling his services to private individuals who could afford the finest.

Talk about shopping pleasure... She shuddered.

The thought of other females using Khyff made her jaws clamp tighter. How can I be jealous of something that happened to him years ago? Yet there the emotion was, in all its raw and angry power. If he'd been Kin, he'd have smelled it on her by now.

She slid the tips of her fingers into one of Khyff's rear pockets in a possessive gesture meant to discourage the slakes, who were still eyeing him. It didn't work.

"Let's go over there." She pointed off in another direction.

"Sure, Fawni. What do you want to see?"

She didn't want him thinking she was trying to buy him the way his clients had, but she still wanted to show others he was hers. An idea came to her, and she slid her tongue across her fangs. "What kind of jewelry shops do they have, t'hahr?"

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "What does t'hahr mean?"

"Oh, um..." The words had slipped out, but they were true. She rose on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "T'hahr is a love word in my language. It's Felis for my heart."

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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