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Publication Date: November 24, 2017 Pages: 271 Add to Goodreads About the Book
Seventh Dimension – The Prescience: A Young Adult Fantasy, is the fifth book in the Seventh Dimension Series that combines contemporary, historical, and fantasy elements into a Christian “coming-of-age” story.
When bombs fall on Jerusalem, Shale and Daniel rescue an orphan and return to the first century. Amid supernational tribulation, they attempt to unravel the mysterious disappearance of Daniel’s father and the goal of the New World Order. When multiple realities collide, God reveals once again time is an illusion until the appointed times. Where to BuyOther Books in the SeriesAbout the Author
When not writing books, Lorilyn provides closed captioning for television. Lorilyn adopted her two daughters from Nepal and Vietnam as a single mother. Read her award-winning memoir, Children of Dreams, endorsed by
New York Times best-selling author Jerry B. Jenkins, and be inspired. Connect with LorilynGiveaway
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Publisher: Monster House Books Publication Date: November 28, 2017 Pages: 250 Add to Goodreads About the Book
Beauty. Romance. Power. It’s all in the eye of the BEHOLDER.
At last, Elea has found the love of her life. Unfortunately, the evil Tsar Viktor is about to unleash an army of twisted mages bent on killing everyone Elea cares about… including the man who’s stolen her heart. So what’s a powerful witch to do? Why, organize a league of magical warriors, of course! Elea recruits and trains a fighting force to take down the Tsar. That’s challenge enough, but on the eve of battle, Elea realizes that her true enemies may be far more powerful than even Viktor: The deities Oni and Yuri could be out to destroy her as well. With major battles brewing on two fronts, Elea’s not sure that she’ll win, but with true love to inspire her, she’s certainly ready to fight. Excerpt
It was never a good idea to spy on the gods, as a rule.
That said, I was never one to follow the rules. All of which was why I now stood in a hilltop ringed with skulls, staring out over a deserted landscape. A shiver of foreboding rolled across my shoulders. This place gave new meaning to the word bleak. Ashen soil stretched off in every direction. Charcoal-colored clouds wheeled overhead. A freestanding archway made from chipped stone loomed nearby. The thing looked like a ruin, but it was actually a magickal gateway called the Skullock Passage. Soon, this archway would also serve as my supernatural keyhole for spying on the gods. Quite possibly, I’d be killed in the process. Considering my situation, it was a risk worth taking. I glanced up at the darkening sky. Almost time to begin. Any minute now, a slash of blood-red light would appear by the horizon, marking the arrival of the Martyr’s Comet, a heavenly body that showed itself once every two thousand years. Unfortunately, the Martyr’s Comet had all sorts of dark legends surrounding it, such as the prophecy that whoever was the strongest Necromancer alive when the comet appeared, then that same Necromancer had to die when the comet vanished. This particular legend had changed my life from bad to worse. First, the bad part. About two months ago, my one-time Mother Superior, Petra, informed me of the Martyr’s Comet prophecy, including the bit about the strongest Necromancer dying. That was certainly bad news; some poor mage was supposedly doomed. Second, the worse part. Then Petra shared that I was the strongest Necromancer alive and she planned to end my life when the comet vanished. In other words, about three days from now. As I said, worse. Of course, I’d no intention of dying any time soon. I just needed more information so I could foil Petra’s schemes—hence my spying expedition. A flicker of light appeared at the horizon. My gaze locked on the spot. Was that the Martyr’s Comet? I squinted into the darkening sky. The brightness clearly shone white, not red. Only a shooting star, then. A weight of disappointment settled on my shoulders. In some ways, I was looking forward to the comet’s arrival. With it, there came additional powers over gateways, especially for mages like me. Tapping into those extra abilities, I’d turn the Skullock Passage into my personal spy-hole. Take that, Petra. A small cloud of dust began spinning on the ground nearby. The particles whirled in curlicue shapes that were too perfect to be natural. Magick. My heart lightened. Perhaps my mate Rowan was arriving. I had expected him to magickally transport here any second. Sadly enough, blue lights sparkled deep within the haze. A weight of dread settled into my bones. Someone was casting a transport spell, only it wasn’t Rowan. My mate was a Creation Caster, so his power came from life and his magick glowed red. This brightness shone blue, which meant the visiting mage was a Necromancer like me. Damn. Most likely, Petra was sending yet another messenger my way, asking me to fulfill the Prophecy of the Martyr’s Comet and die willingly on the comet’s last day. Meeting these messengers was never pleasant, but it wasn’t particularly dangerous, either. Petra wouldn’t try to kill me until the Martyr’s Comet was just about to disappear. Small comfort, really. Within seconds, a wisp of a girl materialized beside me. She looked about sixteen years old with large brown eyes, pale skin, and raven-dark hair. The image of her skull had been magickally marked onto her face in dark tones. Her clothes were long black robes decorated with a few ties, which was the formal dress for a Sister, the lowest level of initiated Necromancer. The girl spied me, gasped, and fell to her knees. A small puff of dried earth flew up where she landed. “Greetings, my Tsarina.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. All Petra’s messengers fell on their knees when they first laid eyes on me. It was rather unsettling. I wasn’t this girl’s Tsarina, and even if I were, bowing and scraping weren’t my idea of fun. Where to BuyAbout the Author
Christina Bauer knows how to tell stories about kick-ass women. In her best selling Angelbound series, the heroine is a part-demon girl who loves to fight in Purgatory’s Arena and falls in love with a part-angel prince. This young adult best seller has driven more than 500,000 ebook downloads and 9,000 reviews on Goodreads and retailers.
Bauer has also told the story of the Women’s March on Washington by leading PR efforts for the Massachusetts Chapter. Her pre-event press release—the only one sent out on a major wire service—resulted in more than 19,000 global impressions and redistribution by over 350 different media entities including the Associated Press. Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby. Connect with ChristinaGiveaway
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mage locket witchy bracelet skeleton earrings copy of CROWNED Publisher: Creative Edge Publishing, LLC Publication Date: November 20, 2017 Pages: 370 Add to Goodreads About the Book
A family becomes an assassin's target after a crime lord's sister is brutally murdered in Kaylin McFarren's latest erotic, psychological thriller, Twisted Threads.
Akira Hamada, a beautiful Japanese geisha, failed at killing Kaito Mitsui two years ago - the same yakuza gang leader who destroyed her lover and forced her to become an assassin. Now, with his sister's murderer traveling to the Caribbean on a cruise ship, Akira has ten days at sea to identify her target and complete her assignment as her penance, or face her own death. Devon Lyons, unaware that his aunt and uncle could be singled out and murdered, brings Akira into their lives. In searching for evidence to justify Mitsui's revenge, she soon discovers that no one is who they seem to be. All the while, Devon is drawn into the mystery of mounting deaths on board the ship, putting his own life at risk. With killers on the loose and no avenue for escape, tension is ratcheted to a breaking point, forcing everyone to choose between love and loyalty - or deeply held honor - in order to survive. A tantalizing glimpse into a secret world of desire. Dive deep into the layers of this intoxicating blend of twisted pleasure and intricate mystery. Edgy, fierce, and undeniably stimulating. - Alicia Tomelloso, San Francisco Book Review I thoroughly enjoyed "Twisted Threads" by Kaylin McFarren from cover to cover. The layers of deliciousness never ends, and the seamless writing that incorporates multiple genres into one engrossing story, truly provides non-stop action and entertainment for all tastes! - Sheri Hoyte, Reader View Excerpt
Blood streamed down the side of Akira’s face at an alarming rate, mixing bright red against the white porcelain tub. As the showerhead splayed hot water over her body, she watched it with strange fascination, circling and disappearing through tiny holes in the drain. She picked up a white washcloth and mindlessly scrubbed against her narrow waist until her skin turned bright pink. Then she lowered the coarse cloth and rubbed longer than usual at the triangle of black hair between her legs and upper thighs, stopping only when it became painful. At least on the outside she felt cleaner, but inside was a different matter.
The consequences of her actions could not be remedied, nor could they be wiped away. Yet despite her resolve for this justified killing, she remained lost in a sea of hopelessness—incapable of seeing a way out. Then why are you still here? Pick up your sword and end it now. The words echoed in her mind, taunting and teasing. She didn’t care about anything—or anyone. Why should she? Mitsui had insisted all ties be cut with the people she had once loved, including the Buddhist monk she might have married. She poured a generous amount of shampoo into the palm of her hand and lathered her long black hair, gingerly touching the wound her victim had inflicted. The gash in her scalp would disappear in due time, just like her other scars. But the bloody slaughter in the living room had left a horrible mess and would need to be addressed before she left the house. After thoroughly rinsing her hair, she worked on her face with the bar of lavender soap, removing the black eyeliner, blue eye shadow, and whorish red lipstick she had applied for Kurosaki’s benefit. It wasn’t fair by any means, but there was no going back to the naive geiko she had been. With eight deaths to atone for in her afterlife, she was cursed in both worlds and simply waiting to die at the hands of another assassin. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her back against the cold white tile, hugging herself as water washed away her tears. She heard a muffled sound in the next room and turned off the water. After easing the shower door open, she strained her ears and heard nothing, but her instincts told her otherwise. She stepped onto the bamboo grate covering the stone floor and grabbed the katana sword resting against the wall. The sound of someone rapidly approaching increased her heart rate. Her right hand shook involuntarily, yet she managed to remain calm. The bathroom door flew open suddenly, exposing two members of Kurosaki’s gang. The first man stared at her, snarling. “You murder a man in his home and have the nerve to use his shower? What kind of monster are you?” He reached for her arm while the second man stood back watching—his coal-black eyes piercing her skull. “The worst kind,” Akira spat. She drew her sword with lightning speed, beheading the first one with a one-handed horizontal cut. Blood sprayed over the mirror above the sink. She dropped her sheath and held the sword in front of her with both hands. The second man’s face paled, and his jaw slacked. He remained motionless for endless seconds before charging at Akira with a knife stretched out before him. With one swift movement, she raised her sword above her head and brought it down hard and fast across his neck. She pulled the blade back, sending blood spraying across her face. Another body fell to the floor. Akira could feel sweat gathering at the base of her spine. She wiped her eyes with her forearm to clear her vision. Tears threatened to break loose and destroy the fortification she’d built. The voice was back in her head, moving her forward. Keeping her from crumpling into a pitiful mess. Don’t be a fool. Finish the job you were sent here to do. She found two capsules in the outside pocket of her bag and popped them into her mouth. It took nearly a minute for the numbing effects to take hold. Then she set to work dragging bodies from the house and dropping them into the pit she had found in the woods. When she was finished, she stepped into the shower to wash the dirt and blood off a second time. After cleaning the bathroom floor and walls and scrubbing the living room thoroughly, she dumped all the evidence into the pit outside and set everything ablaze with a match and a bottle of Château Guiraud. Her only salvation rested in the fact that Kurosaki’s nearest neighbor lived too far away to witness the gruesome scene and strange smell filling the air. A cool breeze touched her skin. Too cool. She looked down at herself and was instantly reminded of her nudity, which she had forgotten with the work she’d undertaken. A nervous laugh escaped her lips, and once more she found herself questioning her sanity. Where to BuyOther Books in the Series
A deep-sea diving expedition turns deadly, leaving bodies in the wake of this page-turning treasure hunting adventure.
"With plenty at stake, erotic chemistry, dastardly villains, a lost relic, an unusual setting, and a touch of the supernatural, this indie novel could stand on any romance publisher's shelf. The full package of thrills and romance." -- Kirkus Reviews
Overcoming death threats by the Japanese mafia is only the beginning in this heart-racing, action-packed thriller.
"If you're a fan of murder mysteries but eschew the usual genre-formatted adventures that offer too-predictable protagonists and not enough depth, it's time to take a look at Buried Threads: a horse of another color. More than a murder mystery, this mingles a treasure hunt, an international race against time, a dark prophecy, Japanese culture, erotic encounters and a clever killer's modus operandi into a story that just won't quit." -- Diane Donovan, Senior Editor, Midwest Book Review
A romantic escape to England is far from restful when the lives of family members hang in the balance
"Readers will get quite a thrill from McFarren's latest Threads novel! Chase and Rachel are back in this fast-paced romantic suspense, based in an art gallery in England. It's full of family drama, stolen art, kidnapping, and even more exciting sex between the globetrotting couple. The story moves along at a brisk pace with plenty of peripheral characters to keep things interesting." -- Romantic Times About the Author
Kaylin McFarren has received more than forty national literary awards, in addition to a prestigious Golden Heart Award nomination for Flaherty’s Crossing - a book she and her oldest daughter, Kristina McMorris, co-authored in 2008. Prior to embarking on her writing journey and developing the popular Threads action/adventure romance series, she poured her passion for creativity into her work as the director of a fine art gallery in the Pearl District in Portland, Oregon; she also served as a governor-appointed member of the Oregon Arts Commission. When she’s not traveling or spoiling her pups and three grandsons, she enjoys giving back to her community through participation and support of various charitable and educational organizations in the Pacific Northwest, and is currently the president of the Soulful Giving Foundation - a non-profit focused on cancer research, care and treatment at hospitals throughout Oregon.
Connect with KaylinGiveaway
1. $50 Amazon Gift Card
2. Severed Threads (eBook) 3. Buried Threads (eBook) 4. Banished Threads (eBook) 5. Twisted Threads (eBook) Publisher: Laurel A. Rockefeller Publication Date: November 22, 2017 Pages: 105 Add to GoodReads
Teacher. Philosopher. Astronomer.
Born in 355 CE. In the aftermath of Constantine's reign Hypatia of Alexandria lived in a collapsing Rome Empire, a world where obedience to religious authorities trumped science, where reason and logic threatened the new world order. It was a world on the edge of the Dark Ages. As libraries burned, she dared defend the light of knowledge.
A few hours later sunset burned rose-orange over the house of Asher ben Nathan. As promised, Hypatia returned with both Orestes and Synesius one pace behind her. Reaching the dining room Orestes offered a bottle of wine to Rachel, “Thank you for inviting us. I hope you do not mind. I found this at a wine merchant a few blocks away. He assured me that it was suitable for your table and approved by the rabbinate as such.”
Rachel looked at the label before handing it off to her husband, “A fine vintage most generously given. Asher and I drank this vintage at our wedding. It has very special memories!” “My lady said this was the right one to buy,” remarked Orestes. “Hypatia has an excellent memory.” “Yes, she does,” agreed Asher. “Daphne, will you prepare the wine for our dinner?” Daphne took the bottle, “Of course, my lord!” Asher beckoned everyone to sit while he stood, “Baruch Atah Adonai Elohenu Melech Ha-olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah. Blessed is Adonai, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who hallows us with mitzvot and commands us to kindle the Hanukkah lights. Baruch Atah Adonai Elohenu Melech Ha-olam,she-asa nissim la-avotenu ba-yamim ha-mem ba-z’man ha-zeh. Blessed is Adonai, our God, Ruler of the Universe, who performed wondrous deed for our ancestors in days of old, at this season.” Prayerfully he lit the first and second candle, “Tonight as we celebrate Hanukkah together, we are conscious of the precious gift of family and friendship. So often we take one another for granted, forgetting to express our love and devotion. As we kindle these festive lights, let us rededicate ourselves to sharing our interests and time with one another. Like the Maccabees of old, let us always face the troubles and joys of life united by those we love.” “Amen,” answered Rachel and her children. “Amen,” echoed the guests. Rachel turned to her husband, “Asher, Hypatia was kind enough to give us a beautiful menorah as a gift. Shall we light it as well?” Asher kissed her, “Certainly, matok!” Rising he fetched Hypatia’s menorah from the living room and put it on the dining room table in front of everyone. Daphne brought in a set of candles which Asher set into each cup expertly. Lighting the shamash candle for Hypatia’s menorah from the shamash on the original menorah, he lit the first two candles, “Baruch Atah Adonai Elohenu Melech Ha-olam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.” Orestes studied the gifted menorah, “You gave this to them, my lady?” “Yes, why?” “I recognize the craftsmanship. It was made by the finest silversmith in Alexandria.” “Nothing is too good for my dear friend Rachel. We’ve been friends since childhood,” explained Hypatia as she took a sip from her wine glass. “My lady is truly most generous,” added Synesius. “Jew, Christian, Pagan—there is no difference between us,” asserted Hypatia. “We are all in search of truth beyond human understanding, with a greater connection to the Divine. Does it truly matter what name or names we use, what languages we speak, or how we worship? Surely God or the gods care less about how we worship than how we live. Actions, not words, matter most.” “Theophilus disagrees,” declared Synesius. “For him and his followers everyone must believe and worship in accord with his ideas of orthodoxy. There is only one true belief, only one way of correctly worshipping. He preaches in the agora a most fiery and impassioned manifesto, one that often calls for enforcement of Christian orthodoxy upon those who disagree with it—Christian, Jew, or Pagan—all must live, worship, and believe as he interprets the Bible.” “Has anyone of his congregants acted on his words?” asked Rachel. “Not yet, but they may sooner rather than later. Saturnalia is nearly upon us,” answered Synesius. Rachel stared at Synesius, “Saturnalia? I do not understand the significance in this context.” Asher’s face grew grim, “In the Empire, Saturnalia is often a time for murder. Many promotions come out of Saturnalia assassinations.” “Will the legate intervene?” asked Rachel. Orestes met Rachel’s eyes, “It depends on who is killed or at least targeted and who the attacker is. The legate is a politician first. If there is nothing to gain and something to lose by acting you can be certain he will do nothing.” “Orestes is right about the legate. I can easily see him standing by and allowing one or more than one of Theophilus’ congregants get away with murder,” affirmed Hypatia. “Will he attack the school at the Temple of Serapis?” asked Rachel. “Possible, but not likely,” answered Asher. “It’s too big a target and he lacks sufficient support to get away with it—for now, at least. Burn the temple or the Caesareum and he’ll have to answer to the prefect for it. No, he won’t move against either, not yet. Saturnalia violence is small-scale. An attack on any institution like your school costs him too much right now to try. But I promise you this: the moment the prefect and his legates waiver in their protection, our houses of worship and houses of learning will fall to Theophilus and his frenzied thugs he calls Christians.” Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Kobo | Smashwords
Born, raised, and educated in Lincoln, Nebraska USA Laurel A. Rockefeller is author of over twenty books published and self-published since August, 2012 and in languages ranging from Welsh to Spanish to Chinese and everything in between. A dedicated scholar and biographical historian, Ms. Rockefeller is passionate about education and improving history literacy worldwide.
With her lyrical writing style, Laurel's books are as beautiful to read as they are informative. In her spare time, Laurel enjoys spending time with her cockatiels, attending living history activities, travelling to historic places in both the United States and United Kingdom, and watching classic motion pictures and classic television series.
3 custom Candles , Signed Paperback
Publication Date: October 31, 2017 Pages: 238 Format: ePub Add to GoodReads About the Book
Shelby King is tired of living in her sister’s shadow. Just because Christina is the most powerful caster in school doesn’t mean Shelby’s any good at magic; she’s a scribe, like her mom, and everyone expects her to write spells for her sister, the way her mom always has for her dad. But Shelby’s spells fail spectacularly, and by the time she’s a sophomore, Christina won’t touch them with a ten-foot-pole; their parents aren’t much better. Shelby is fed up, and she decides to show the world she doesn’t care if she isn’t as good as her stuck-up sister, or as talented as their powerful parents. In fact, she decides it’s time to break all the rules, magical and otherwise, and she starts sneaking out to meet Jeremiah Smallwood, the second-best caster in school at illegal pop-up spell battles around town. She may not be able to scribe for him, but she doesn’t mind letting him think that she could; Shelby’s been half in love with Miah as long as she can remember, but he’s never paid attention to her until now, and she’s not going to risk her chances worrying about a pesky thing like the truth. But when Christina rats her out to their parents, Shelby can’t control her anger, and words come pouring out of her that she can’t take back even if she wanted to, threatening Christina’s future…and Shelby’s own chances with Jeremiah. It’ll take more magic than Shelby’s ever dreamed of to set things right, but no scribe has that much magic…right?
My Rating
4.85 Stars
ReviewI received this eBook from Xpresso Book Tours in exchange for an honest review.
Shelby is a scribe.
Or well, she is supposed to be a scribe but her skills haven't quite emerged yet. Shelby lives under the shadow of her caster father (who works for the Caster Force which polices caster and scribe communities), her mother's excellent scribing abilities, the family's long line of caster's and scribes, and of course her sister who is considered the best caster in high school. Shelby is meant to be Christina's scribe but her spells are a bit of a disaster. Which doesn't bode well for Christina and her Caster Level Threes that are fast approaching. The second best caster, Jeremiah (or Miah) is recently single and has his eyes on Shelby. Even though his actual intentions are purely selfish to better himself at caster battles. However out of sheer luck, one of her spells actually works and she begins to test her abilities by creating a side job selling spells to normal folk. Highly frowned upon in her caster/scribe society. And during one fateful night, Christina learns just how powerful Shelby's spells are with a unique twist. So, this starts out a little cliche. Kind of like Hocus Pocus, Halloweentown, Freaky Friday and Mean Girls all rolled into one. However I did enjoy that Shelby's idea of rebellion was to wear neon pink to school as black and dark colours were the norm. Heh, that was my normal wardrobe in high school. Primarily still is dark colours. Despite the cliche starting, the twist is a wonderful surprise and throws the book into a whole new outlook. So definitely give it a read, if you're a fan of a good young adult with an awesome twist. Where to BuyAbout the Author
Award-winning author Jen McConnel writes NA, YA, and nonfiction. When she isn’t writing, she can be found on her yoga mat or wandering off on another adventure.
Giveaway
- Name a character in Book 2
Publisher: Relay Publishing Publication Date: November 8, 2017 Pages: 285 Add to GoodReads About the Book
In a solar system where The Authority decides who lives and who dies, only one of their own assassins can stop them.
Glade Io is a trained killer. Marked at a young age as an individual with violent tendencies, she was taken from her family and groomed to be a Datapoint, a biotech-enabled analyst who carries out the Culling. She is meant to identify and destroy any potential threats to the human colonies. But when she’s kidnapped by rogue colonists known as the Ferrymen, everything Glade thinks she knows about the colonies, and The Authority that runs them, collapses into doubt. Pulled between two opposing sides, and with her family’s lives hanging in the balance, Glade is unsure of who to trust—and time is running out. Excerpt
I’ve always hated hide-and-seek.
But if you had to play it, like I did right now, so much better to be the hunter than the hunted. I cracked my knuckles in front of me as I stepped into the simulator, and the door slammed behind me. I was instantly plunged into darkness – a blunt darkness, as can only happen indoors. Two points of light opened up in front of me, one on the left and one on the right. I bared my teeth in a feral grin as my eyes bounced from one point of light to the other. They were throwing two colonies at me at once. I waited, tense and ready, as both points of light started spiraling open, focusing. They were forming not just into images, but into my new reality. Within seconds, I was straddling the line between two worlds. I could see the images with my eyes, but when I closed them, I could see the images projected across my brain, as well. The computer implanted in my arm and head was cool like that. There was almost nothing I couldn’t do with it. I scanned the two landscapes on either side of me. Glacially icy on one side, offering all the blues and grays of an icy planet. And on the other side, the black sky met the umber sand of a red planet. I looked back and forth between them. Two colonies at once. I knew it was just a simulation, but still, a bead of sweat rolled down my back as I planted my feet on the floor of the simulator. Come out, come out, little citizens. Using my computer, my integrated tech, I zoomed in on the icy landscape first. I felt the frigid wind, the brisk scent of ozone filling my nostrils, and soon I was close enough to see the roofs of dwellings. And yup. There the people were. I ignored the heavy furs that covered all but their eyes. I ignored their varying heights and weights. I ignored the way some of them held hands or rode on one another’s backs. I ignored the laughter that rang out from a group of citizens who had to be just about my age. I ignored the familiar admonishing tone of a mother at her wit’s end. The only thing I saw were the reddish glows that emanated from each person’s brainwaves. The integrated tech computer that had been implanted when I’d been chosen for this job was designed to detect brain patterns. The computer in my brain could see other people’s brainwaves, and it presented the information in a way that allowed my eyes to see it, too. It had taken a long time to get used to it. But now it was almost like second nature. I let the reddish blurs around each person’s head remain just that – blurry. Shifting my attention to the red planet now, I gave my eyes a second to adjust from the blinding white of the ice planet to the burnished, sunburned bake of the second colony. The black sky was a rich dark, the kind of black that had depth. With the Milky Way splashed across the skyroof of the red planet, I gave my eyes a second to adjust as my tech zoomed in on the colony, the red planet rushing past in my periphery. Soon we were there. The thick canvas tents that the citizens used as dwellings flapped in the constant, stinging wind. Each person wore white garments to reflect heat, but they were all dyed a deep, dusty pink from the red sand being flung in every direction. This was a busier colony than the ice planet. People bustled past one another, balancing baskets of wares on their heads. The streets were narrow and craggy, lined with red rock walls that gave way to the canvas dwellings that stood every ten feet or so. So little of this planet was hospitable that the people had to live on top of one another like bees in a hive. The simulation raced me down one twisting street and to the next, so that I was coasting past grannies in doorways who were sorting seeds into one basket or another. Past children huddled around a game of skipping rocks on the ground. Past a ratty dog, everything but his eyes covered in red grit. And then I landed in the main square. A place I’d only seen photographs of in the past. People haggled over prices in the canvas booths that lined the square. Eggs and bread were traded and bartered. A group of unwatched children ran screaming from one end of the square to the other, adults scowling after them. A line of people 800 feet long wrapped around the square. Everyone held empty chalices. It was the line for water. A group of citizens shouted over one another as they crowded around a small wooden platform where an ox stood. The animal’s age was shown in its milky eyes and swollen joints, but still, the farmers shouted and scrapped for the auctioneer’s attention. On a planet as hard to farm as this one, any help was highly sought after. I pulled my attention from the details of the two worlds and back to the task at hand. This wasn’t a sightseeing simulation. I was a trained Datapoint. This was my job. This was a Culling. Using every bit of training that had been pounded into me over the last two years, I began to block out all of the sensory details of the two colonies on either side of me. The slate gray clouds and the pale icy sun melted away on my left. On my right, the baked red became nothing more than a neutral background. Like I had a hand gripping a knob on a radio, I guided my integrated tech into turning the volume down. The noises of the market on one side muted, and the noises of the children playing on the other side did the same. Soon, all I was left with were the citizens and the halos of red around their heads. I brought each red blur even further into focus. Starting with one alone and then moving to each citizen individually, I read their brainwaves with practiced ease. My integrated technology and my brain worked in perfect, synchronized tandem as I identified the citizens I was looking for. In the simulation, they were scattered about, as they’d be in their worlds. But in my mind’s eye, it was as if all of the citizens were standing neatly in a line before me. Using my technology to organize them, I saw about a quarter of the citizens stepping forward. These were the ones I was about to cull. The ones with brainwaves indicating violence and aggression. The ones with the capacity to commit murder. The ones who were inclined to bring down pain on the citizens around them. Where to BuyAbout the Author
Ramona Finn writes about courageous characters who fight to live in broken, dystopian worlds. She believes a person's true characters is often revealed in times of crisis, and there is no greater crisis than the worlds that she drops her characters into!
She grew up sitting cross-legged on her town's library floor--completely engrossed in science fiction books. It was always the futuristic world or the universe-on-the-brink-of-extinction plotlines that drew her in, but it was the brave characters who chose to fight back that kept her turning the pages. Her books create deep, intricate worlds with bold characters determined to fight for their survival in their dystopian worlds--with a little help from their friends. And, of course, romance is never out of the question. ;) GiveawayCULL 3 FRIENDS & WIN - To celebrate the release of 'The Culling'. I'm giving away a $50 giftcard! My protagonist Glade Io is a trained killer. Groomed as a Datapoint, a biotech-enabled analyst, she's sent into the colonies to execute the once-every-decade Culling—those deemed dangerous to the Authority's perfect world are killed. She is ruthless—and I need you to be ruthless too. Cull 3 of your friends to win. Who could you cull? Facebook |
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