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Monday, April 30, 2018

When Good Authors Go Bad

Okay. I admit it.

I have an evil twin.

Okay. My evil twin is me.

The fact of the matter is, I love to write so much, and my imagination is always working...sometimes my story ideas are not (GASP) romance.

Case in point, my most recent release.

It's not even a Sabrina York book! It's certainly not romance, though there are romantic elements.

I wrote it a couple years ago as a palate cleanser after writing the first three books in the  Untamed Highlander Series in four months. I needed a break.

So I sat down and binge watched Sons of Anarchy for a couple hours in the morning, wrote for five and then ended the day with more SOA.

I finished my opus in one month and even though I loved the story and the characters, I knew it would probably never sell. But that was OK. It was fun.

And then my agent got an offer on it. I was stunned.

The way publishers work, the book was earmarked to release in April of 2018, which seemed like a century away.

Well, the Viridian Convict (Book One of the Blue Dominion series) came out to rave reviews and I am thrilled.

Naturally, I have to tell you about it. If you like super snarky sci-fi (with a side of romance), please check it out.

Here's the info:

BLUE DOMINION--An epic trilogy of rebellion, passion and the struggle to survive in a universe crushed beneath the draconian thumb of the Fed
The Viridian Convict
The Indigo Operative
The Cerulean Insurgent

The Viridian Convict by Sam York
Damned if you do, dead if you don't.

Welcome to Viridian, a prison moon full of aliens…who want to eat you.
 The Godfather meets Guardians of the Galaxy in this crazy-ass adventure set on Viridian, a prison planet full of aliens…who want to eat you. Tig, the only human, is thrust into a lose/lose/lose situation when the mob boss he works for asks him to pick up and deliver a package that the Fed—the governing body of the known universe—also wants. To make matters worse, the “package” has curves for days, an attitude to match, and her own agenda for how this is all going down.


Chapter One

Kaww Settlement, Viridian Moon, Federation Penal Colony, 27:55

The call came in just as I was about to clock out, but then, munis in my position never really clock out. Not on the moon of Viridian. Not when they work for Granny.
“This one’s for you, Tig,” Marmot said with a smirk as he handed me the slip.
Annoyance fizzled and spat.
God, I hated that rat-faced weasely piece of Scard excrement.
Too bad he was my boss.
Well, technically my shift supervisor. Granny was the real boss and everyone knew it.
No one was more powerful on Viridian. Except the Fed.
But then, Fed agents, those blue bastards, rarely came on planet.
For one thing, this place was a shithole that made Lord of the Flies look like Disneyland. For another, there really wasn’t much to police here. Nothing they cared about anyway. Their job was to sit up there in their luxurious space station and make sure none of the cons escaped the planetary shield.
Occasionally one of them would drop down—usually to indulge their darker appetites—but they never stayed long. Just long enough to fuck shit up.
My gut clenched as the memory of my last tangle with a particular Fed scorched my brain. I tried to push all thoughts of Mia from my mind, but it was hard to forget what that blue bitch had done.
“Well?” Marmot’s pointy nose quivered.
“What is it?” I snapped.
He grinned. His razor-sharp teeth glinted in the light. “DB. Out in Harleytown.”
“Awesome.” I scrubbed at my face. My day beard scratched at my palm. I was tired. I wanted to go home and take a load off. Maybe get shitfaced. I glanced at the other munis lounging in the lobby: a couple Trogs, a Raven, and some random Frogs. They all avoided eye contact. With a sigh, I dropped the annoying assignment. The paper fluttered onto the desk. “I’m off in two.”
Marmot pushed the slip right back at me. “Special request. Asked for you.”
Yeah. I loved being popular. “Who?”
“Jimmy Bluenote.”
Well, hell.
That Dink had saved my ass last week in a sting that went sour—way sour. I’d be rolling around in an Ozzie stew about now if it hadn’t been for him. I owed him. And here, on Viridian, a prison moon filled to the gills with all manner of vengeful species, you always paid your debts.
“Fine.” I snatched the slip from Marmot’s bony fingers and wheeled away.
“And Tig?”
I glanced back at him. His nose wiggled. His whiskers quivered. His beady little eyes glinted. “Take the Skeeg.”
“Seriously?” I’d spent most of my day trying to shake that tail.
Marmot waggled his furry eyebrows. “Take the Skeeg.”
Each flatfoot working for Granny was assigned a Skeeg for “protection,” which was a fucking joke. Those frogs could barely protect their own eggs. I suspected Granny was just doing them a favor, offering them a place in his kingdom in exchange for licking rights. Some creatures on this rock would kill or die for Skeeg pglet. In addition to having rumored regenerative properties, it was, apparently, a most excellent high.
I’d never been tempted. The thought of licking one of those repugnant creatures made me want to vomit. Besides, I had my own dark cravings to deal with. Last thing I needed was another addiction.
At any rate, on Granny’s behest, I spent my shifts being trailed by a tall, skinny, green douchebag with one eye on a stalk. It creeped me out, the way he looked around, that stalk all bendy like it was. The way he smelled wasn’t orgasmic either. But Granny was God. We did what he said. No matter what.
We knew we were damn lucky to have the job. Some vestige of power in a world where power equaled survival.
Viridian wasn’t a penal colony so much as a Federation garbage dump. A first-uni Australia of the 19th century … only with aliens. Who wanted to eat you. Loads of fun.
Got a problem you wanna make disappear? Send it to Viridian with the scumbags and lowlifes of the uni, let nature take its course.
I’d been somebody’s problem.
I suspect we all had been. At some point.
For many, a conviction and transport to Viridian was a death sentence. Pity it wasn’t for most. Fact was, the ones who thrived here were the most brutal, pitiless, soulless creatures in the known universe. Savages who would do anything to survive.
No one expected me to make it a week.
Soft Earthie? Pretty boy? I didn’t have venom, no spines, no secret weapons. To make matters worse, of all the creatures in this universe, humans and Feds looked far too much alike. Except for my non-blue skin color, I could have been one. That alone made humans exceedingly unpopular.
Yeah. I shoulda died. Expected to.
No one could have predicted I’d land on my feet, first day out the gate. I sure as shit didn’t. But fortune fell in my lap in the holding cell in intake, up on the Fed station orbiting this moon. My dumbshit noble sensibilities clicked on when I saw two Ozzies making a move on a kid. A young, stupid Ferrod, with velvet still on his antlers. He was utterly out of his league here in this hell hole, but connected. The Ozzies wanted to chow down—they’ll eat anything and they have these long, razor-sharp teeth to make the job easier. You could call them fangs. Or straws.
Any rate, I snapped a couple off, saved the sniveling kid and got him through the gate. To daddy. I had no idea “daddy” was Big Jogn. That furry, fat fence set me up with his capo and that led me to Granny. I’d been working under his banner ever since. Ten years. Or what passes for a year on this rock.
My official title was Enforcer, but we all knew we were errand boys. Bag men, cleaners, muscle. Whatever Granny demanded, we did it.
Even consort with Skeegs.
I glanced over to my office where my partner sat slumped in a chair at his desk, wiping the slime from his green skin. Great. He was oozing again. I knew what that meant.
Of course, I was assuming One Eye was a “he.” Skeegs didn’t have a gender, not until it was mating season, then they’d do whatever Skeegs needed to do.
God. Skeeg mating season. What a mess.
 “Hey, Frog,” I called. One Eye’s earhole twitched. He looked up. His long, stalky eye settled on me and he blinked, slow, steady, like he did. I waved the slip. “We got a call.”
I crossed my arms and watched as he unfolded his long, leggy body from the chair and made his way through the stationhouse toward me, his flat, webbed feet slapping wetly on the hardwood floor. He left a trail behind him. The other munis curled their noses—and other various appendages—when he passed. When Skeegs started going into musth, they stank to high heaven. And dripped.
He moved like molasses in winter, but I was in no hurry. I owed it to Jimmy to respond to whatever emergency he had, but seriously, there was no call to go overboard. At least tonight I’d be able to clear an annoying debt.
And Jimmy was annoying.
We headed down to the garage and hopped into my skimmer, but I took the precaution of pulling some towels out of the trunk and draping them over the passenger seat first. I didn’t have a fancy ride, but it was mine, and the last thing I wanted was to get Skeeg cum all over the leather.
I was assuming it was cum.
One Eye and I weren’t close enough to ask.
I never wanted to be that close.
Point being, it was a wise precaution. You could never get that stank out.
Once we were both settled, I flicked on my hovers and headed out onto the street. It was a dark night, but hardly quiet. There were few quiet nights in this town. In fact, nighttime was when it came alive, started to hum, sometimes scream. When I’d first arrived here I’d hated it, the constant thrum of excitement, expectation, and malicious intent. But you get used to everything. Eventually. And sometimes you even start liking it.
We hit a snag in the Prospect District. Some riot in progress. I switched on my lights and a path cleared through the melee. It wasn’t like back on Earth, where people had respect for the law and pulled over when they saw a unit coming. Here they cleared a path because they knew if they didn’t I would blast my way through them.
I didn’t miss the snarls they flashed me as I flew by, but I didn’t care.
They all knew who I worked for, and no one pissed on Granny’s parade.
We turned onto the flyway and I jetted into gear. One Eye gasped and grabbed the handgrip as I accelerated, which sent a curl of annoyance through me. Skeegs never liked going fast and One Eye had never been a fan of my driving.
“Chill, Frog,” I muttered, as I shifted gears and roared into seventh gear. The skimmer shot forward with a howl.
One Eye didn’t respond, other than to level that big, glassy orb on me. I hated when he stared.
I angled my skimmer up to the top lane where we could really fly. Aside from the speed, I liked the view. Nothing overhead but the great expanse of the city dome—the dome that kept out the brutal storms of the Barrens and served as climate control for the settlement. Tonight, the sky was clear and myriad stars speckled the firmament.
I turned on the radio and let the Earth tunes wash over me as we wailed along the flyway. It helped me ignore my partner’s unnerving, silent stare. When he didn’t quit staring, I turned the volume up. And sang along.
I smirked when he grimaced.
Yeah, I’m pretty tone deaf.
“Call?” One Eye asked over the cacophony. A croak.
One Eye let out something that might have been a burbly sigh. Yup. I hated dead bodies too. Freaking pain in the ass. Way too much paperwork. Not that anyone cared, but Granny liked to keep tabs. On everything.
Viridian was his kingdom.
We came to the Harleytown exit and I veered onto the ramp, a glittering, silver beam of light ribboning off into the darkness. The howl of the flyway receded as we whipped down into the bowels of the city.
As we slid onto the street in one of the dirtiest districts of town, One Eye turned off the radio. I shot him a glare as I hovered to the address on the call and switched off, tugging on my gloves in an almost-automatic motion. One Eye did the same. His took a little more work, on account of the slime and everything. But no way was I helping him. No way was I touching that.
It might have been my imagination, but he seemed to be seeping more than usual.
“You ready?” I asked.
He did a quick weapons check and then nodded to me. Together, we eased from the skimmer.
The buildings towered over us, shutting out the light of the night moons. The streets were quiet. Eerily quiet. It was odd for Harleytown, which was usually crawling with johns and hookers seeking out depraved companionship, drug dealers, predators and not-so-petty thieves. But tonight it was as though something, some dark whisper in the night, had spooked them all back into their hidey-holes.
A shiver danced down my spine and I gave my gloves a tug.
This was a perfect place for a crime.
But, hell, what was I saying? Any place on this rock was the perfect place for a crime.
A rat skittered through the garbage piled on the street and someone peered out at us through the curtains of a window on the first floor of a seedy brownstone. When they noticed my attention, the curtain fluttered closed. Light flicked off.
Yeah. No one in this part of town wanted to tangle with one of Granny’s munis. They’d lose.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Jimmy’s nasally voice echoed through the shadows, bouncing off the stones. “You’re here. Thank God.”
God had nothing to do with it.
I narrowed my eyes against the gloom and spotted him, hunkering in a debris-strewn alley. Jimmy was a jumpy gecko, but the way he was shuddering, the way his gaze kept skipping over the empty street, the way his left eye twitched, made me think this was something more than his usual paranoia. “What is it, Jimmy?” I called.
“Here. Come ’ere.” He waved me over, a frantic flutter of fingers. “Pflerg, Tig. Hurry.”
I shot a glance at One Eye and sighed. My partner held up his scanner and pointed it at the slender slit between the buildings. A beam of iridescent light walked its way over the crumbling bricks and scattered refuse with a low hum. The scanner beeped, a harsh intonation. One Eye nodded. Clear.
Nice to know the Dink wasn’t leading me into an ambush.
I headed toward him and One Eye took up position at the mouth of the alley, facing out, watching the street. Granted, we were Granny’s munis, but experience had taught us never to let down our guard. There was always someone watching. Always some shit in play.
I strolled down the long alley to Jimmy, adjusting my gloves. Not to make a point or anything. His gaze fixated on them, his slit pupils dilated, and his throat worked. Sweat beaded his scaly forehead … and Dinks sweated in pus. Great, gooey globs of it. And they were green. Great gooey green globs. Rolling down the side of his face. Jesus, it was gross. Almost as bad as the Skeeg.
 “What is it, Jimmy?” Goddamn it. I knew this was going to be a pain in the ass, whatever it was. Just knew.
He stubbed out his draw and scuttled over. “I swear to God, Tig. I didn’t know.” His eyes bugged out. His way of emphasizing his innocence—or his ignorance. Hard to tell. He had little of one and a lot of the other.
“You didn’t know what, Jimmy?”
“Oh pflerg, Tig. Over here. Pflerg.”
Damn. I’d seen the little lizard in a wad more than once, was used to his mouth, but this …. This was weird.
I shook my head and followed him back into the corner of the alley barely lit by a faint streetlamp. It was a dead end, a box in. Stone walls on all sides. No escape but the mouth of the cave. Ideal for a surprise attack. The body lay at the far end, a jumbled pile of clothes draped over a stack of wooden pallets.
“We was just, you know, tanging a little. Just playing around. It got a little rough and … I swear. I swear, Tig. I didn’t know.”
I leaned closer and shone my light on the scene with a tsk. “Jimmy, Jimmy. What did you—?”

About the Author
Blessed (or cursed) with dyslexia and ADD, author Sam York has always loved creating worlds, tantalizing readers, and having complete and utter control over the universe.  What could be better than writing snarky stories in a variety of genres?
Under various pen names, Sam has won multiple writing awards and hit the New York Times and USA Today bestseller list several times.
Interested parties can learn more at

Sam lives in seclusion east of Seattle with a really drooly Rottweiler.

Sunday, April 29, 2018

Willow's Discovery, The Winters Sisters, Book 3

Last weekend I attended the Chanticleer Authors Conference. I enjoy this conference because it’s a mix of authors from a wide range of genres including, mystery, thriller, horror, children’s books, non-fiction, young adult, and international attendees. It’s always interesting to listen to an author who writes in a different genre. The highlight of this conference is the Saturday awards banquet. There are thousands of books entered into the writing contest and includes international entries.

I was thrilled when Willow’s Discovery, The Winters Sisters, Book Three, made the short-list in Paranormal and extremely honored on Saturday to be awarded First in Category for Paranormal. Thank you, Chanticleer Book Reviews for your recognition of Willow’s Discovery.


As she reached her office door, another bolt of lightning screamed through the atmosphere at the same instant a startling, explosive boom of thunder rattled the building. The lights around her popped out and plunged Willow into total blackness.
“Great. I guess this wasn’t my best plan.” She reached out for the wall and followed it slowly back to the door. The rain fell in sheets and blocked out all possibility of moon- or starlight. She bumped the door with the tip of her boot and felt for the lock and handle. “I should’ve at least thought to bring a flashlight,” she said, scolding herself. She stumbled down the steps, nearly falling on her face a time or two. She must be within inches of the cart. The cart was here; it had to be. This is where she left it. She shuffled in one direction and then turned and traveled back in the opposite direction. She left the cart here, right here.
Murky, dark energy overwhelmed her senses, except the energy didn’t feel natural, it felt—synthetic; at this precise moment she realized…she was not alone. “Oh my god – Wyatt!

* * * *

 “I’m awake,” Wyatt said, and popped up as he came fully alert. He’d fallen asleep on the cot in the break room. He meant to go home right after the meeting; instead, he downed a couple of aspirin for the blasted headache that continued to linger the entire day and decided to rest his eyes for a minute or two. Blackness filled his vision, and he rubbed his eyes to make sure they were indeed open. He closed his eyes, focused, felt the change, and opened them once again, his surroundings as clear as midday. Still, he must’ve dreamt, because he could swear he heard Willow.
“What the hell?” Not possible. He actually heard Willow’s voice. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and squinted at the glowing screen, the light much too bright for his night vision. He thought maybe his phone had connected to Willow’s and he heard her on speaker. But the screen was blank. Panic slithered down his neck and made him twitch. He punched the speed-dial button.
Willow took off at a full run. In the pitch black it was nearly impossible to stay upright. She managed to widen the gap between herself and the hideous energy. Her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket. She debated answering, but she didn’t want the person who pursued her to see the light; the glow would shine like a beam. She stumbled, fell, and rolled down a small hill. Once she regained her bearings, she knew where she was and crawled sideways until she came in contact with the first sword fern. She crawled into the ferns as the phone vibrated again. She reached into her pocket and fought to free it from her drenched jeans.
“Wyatt?” she barely whispered into the receiver.
“Hi Willow. I know it’s late and I’m sorry, but—”
“Please help me! Someone is chasing me! I can’t see them but I know it’s someone menacing and…”
“I’m on my way. Where are you?” he asked as he jumped into his boots and threw on a camo rain slicker.
“I ran out the front door of my building. I thought I headed toward the security shack; somehow I got turned around. I’m in the large grouping of sword ferns—”
“I know where you are. Stay down, stay quiet, and don’t move. I’m coming in hot—it means I’ll have my gun drawn—so stay put.”

Until next month.

Friday, April 27, 2018

Alien Heart Deleted Scenes by Janice Seagraves

Sometimes when you are revising your work, there are scenes that just aren't working out. I have a file I call deleted scenes and here are a few from Alien Heart that I thought you might enjoy reading.

     Blade got in and started the SUV.
     Audrey glanced over at him. “Maybe I should start an Arcon online dating service?”
     “That sounds like a good idea, Beloved, then maybe you can write a book too?” He looked out the window and checked the mirrors, before pulling out onto the road
     “Yes with tips on how to woo human females. Our males seem to have trouble with your culture.” After Blade passed Sargent Dixon in his black SUV, Dixon pulled out after them.
     “Maybe I’ll write one for the ladies.” She smiled. “How to Date a Space Alien, and I can add all those things I had problems with.”

This next one I had changed so much it didn't quite look the same.

     “Yes, when males are in rut it’s best to keep out of the way.” Paz opened the backdoor, and they both stepped out.
     Breathing in a lung full of the pine fresh mountain air, Audrey moved further from the house, and the sounds of combatants’. “I hope they don’t break my stuff.” 
     “If they do they’ll replace it.”
     “That’s all fine and dandy, but many of my things I inherited from my parents or my grandmother. Most are antiques or collectibles.” Bending down on one leg, she made a swipe at a half chewed pinecone. It took her two tries before she got it, then chucked it over the fence.
     Something scurried away, making the huge ferns move.
     Audrey peered over the fence. “What’s that?”
     “I don’t know, maybe a squirrel?” Paz looked too.
     “It sounded kind of big for one.”
     “Raccoon?” Paz suggested. “There’s water down in the creek, which would attract them.”
     “You know about raccoons?” She got another pinecone, dropping it over the fence.
     “One raided our garbage just after we moved in here, so I looked them up. They’re mostly nocturnal and omnivorous, they’ll eat almost anything.” Paz watched Audrey try to snatch up another pinecone. “Do you want help getting these pinecones out of the yard?”
     “Yes, these darn things are everywhere.”
     The young Arcon grabbed a pinecone and threw it. “There’s something in your tin building that might help. Do you want me to get it?”
     “Yes, please.”
     Paz maneuvered the tricky, old rusted door like he had done it before. Pulling something out, he brought it to Audrey.
     “Aw, I forgot I had this.” She took the grabber from him. “My grandmother was shorter than me, four-foot-eleven, and used this to reach stuff off of shelves.” Working the handles, she opened and closed the end of the grabber. Then she picked up a pinecone to drop over the fence. “Still works. Good thinking, Paz.”
     A bang sounded from the house, making Audrey flinch. “What do you think that was?”
     Paz shrugged. “Maybe one slammed the other into the wall?”
     “I don’t even want to think about it.” She started tossing pinecones, while her young assistant lobbed them from the other side of the yard. “You’ve got a good arm. When you go to college, they’ll put you on a sports team.”
     “I’d like to study in Japan, but I’d tower over my classmates and stand out too much.”
     She nodded. “Yeah, you would, but you shouldn’t let that stop you. If you want to go, then you should.”
     They worked from one side of the yard to the other, clearing out the pinecones.
     “I think I worked up a sweat.” Audrey sat down on the swing bench that was attached to the old swing set.
     “I worked up an appetite.” Paz sat down with a hand over his flat stomach. “With them fighting, no telling when we’ll eat.” His tummy gurgled.
     “Did you take your meds?”
     “Great, go grab a tomato out of my garden.” She pointed out a ripe one.
     Paz picked the ripe red fruit and sat next to her. He took a bite sucking in the juices. “Hey, Audrey, remember when I told you my two podlings were special?”
     “Do you think it’s possible for one podling to suck out the intelligence from his other two, while in vitro?” He stared at his tomato.
     “What’s up?” She set her hand on the crutch, pushing the swing.
     Paz lifted his feet so the swing would move and ate another bite.
     “It’s just . . . I’ve been praised all my life on how intelligent I am, but . . . my poor podlings weren’t nor did they grow much.” He sighed, staring at the ground.
     Audrey frowned. “They didn’t grow?”
     He glanced up at her. “No, it was a type of condition they had, it stunted them.”
     “What kind of condition?”
     “They were like your Down syndrome, but in the cause of my podling, they stay small.” He took another bite of the tomato.
     “So how were their personalities?”
     “They were sweet.”
     Another bang from the house and the walls shook.
    “When I got home from school, they’d run to me wanting hugs, and then I’d play with them. I miss them.”
     Audrey ran her hand down his hair, Paz leaned into the caress. “Sweetie, whatever happened was not your fault. Stuff happens.” While she petted him, she realized he missed his mother, and it made her miss her son more. Here he is, a motherless child, while I’m cut off from my own son.
     Audrey slipped an arm around his bowed shoulders, taking comfort in this overly tall boy. He smelled sweet like candy, but she didn’t think it was pheromones just his natural scent. I wish I smelled as good.
     “Didn’t you say you had an older brother that was special too?”
     “Yes, Lug. He was big and strong. He became a laborer, but still lived at home. When he played some times . . . he got rough. A long time ago he grabbed Keefe around the neck and wouldn’t let go. I don’t think he realized what he was doing. Blade made him drop Keefe. Our paternal-units hurried into the playroom, and there was Blade with a bloody mouth trying to get Keefe to breathe. While Lug cried like a baby, holding a bleeding arm. Blade got sent away to military school because of that.”
     The injustice of the act made Audrey feel ill. “That doesn’t sound like its Blade was fault.”
     “My paternal-units said Blade should have gotten help, instead of taking matters into his own hands . . . er, mouth.”
     Audrey raised her eyebrows. “Blade bit him?”
     “Yes.” Paz nodded.
     “He probably just reacted.”
     “Like he is reacting now? He started that fight with Keefe, to protect you.”
     There was another boom. Audrey’s gaze jerked back to the house, pine needles and pinecones tumbled off the roof. “This is because of me?” Her stomach gave a painful twist. “Do males fight a lot on Arcon?”
     “It depends on the female. If she is very desirable, and more than one male wants her, then yes.”
     “I’m desirable?” A wry smile twisted her mouth to one side.
     “Oh yes, you’re intelligent, dominant and pretty.” He stuffed the rest of the tomato in his mouth.
     “Oh really?” She shook her head. These Arcon males are too good looking to be believed and they’re fighting over me? It just sounded silly.
     As he chewed, he looked deep in thought. “Blade is showing that he is strong enough to protect you, while Keefe is fighting to prove he’s alpha enough to be your first mate.”
     “How come that’s okay, and a podling defending his brother, isn’t?”
     “Younglings aren’t allowed to be violent. No biting, hitting or pulling hair or you’re sent away to military school, and your family disowns you.”
     Audrey frowned. “That’s ridiculously strict. Here you’d have a time out or a spanking, depending on how your parents discipline you. In school, you’ll get suspended.”
     “On Arcon, sometimes a male is beaten with a whip.”
     “And that’s okay?” Her voice rose to a high squeak.
     He solemnly nodded.
     “The more I find out about your culture, the more confused I get.” Angry shouts came from the house. Audrey cast a nervous glance at the backdoor. “How do I get these two to stop fighting?”
     “There aren’t always fights when there is a rival. Sometimes the female just says ‘I have chosen my mate. Honour my choice.’”
     “That’s it?”
     He nodded. “If you’re the female, then you’re head of household, what you say goes.”
     She thought about that for all of a minute. Decision made, she squared her shoulders, fitted the crutch under her arm, then headed toward the house.
     Paz trotted to catch up. “Audrey, where are you going?”
     “To stop the madness,” she said over her shoulder.
     Audrey slammed the sliding glass door open, wincing when it banged the door frame. “Stop this—right now.”
     The two combatants froze where they were on the dining room floor. Blade had one fist cocked back, while Keefe’s hands where around his throat. “Huh?”
    “Blade—outside. Keefe—in the kitchen.” She jerked her head in the direction she wanted them to go.
     They both stared at her.
     “What are you waiting for—move!” She bellowed the last and it felt good.

The Chronicles of Arcon

Arcons Are Coming
Exodus Arcon Trailer
The first of a new Science Fiction series
Blurb: With their planet about to be destroyed by solar storms, the inhabitants of planet Arcon need to leave. They build three big spaceships to cross the stellar reaches of space. Only their government and the most gifted people can come. Everyone else has to take their chances with the lottery.
But one family cheats.
Aziza must pretend her consort’s brothers are her mates. Because Arcon justice is harsh and swift, the brothers must never reveal to anyone that they aren’t truly mated.
The Arcon story will continue in the Alien Heart the Chronicles of Arcon book one, which is available through Keith Publications
Alien Heart, the first of a whole new SF series.
Blurb: Divorcee and single mom, hardworking Audrey Westberry is the host of a cable TV show called Miz Fixit.
Romance was the last thing on Audrey’s mind when two handsome extraterrestrials join the audience of her show.
Soon Audrey finds out a single word “mated” has different meaning when you are born a galaxy away. After a wonderful night of passion, Audrey finds herself far from home, impregnated and her life turned upside down.
Will she ever be able to leave the alien compound, see her son again, or get home in time to film the fall season of her Miz Fixit show?
But what’s a girl to do with two aliens that smell like candy, and their kisses taste like it, too?
Excerpt: “Good show, everyone.” Derek, the director, walked through the dressing room. “So Audrey, how are you going to spend your summer hiatus?” Tall, dark-haired, with hazel eyes, and oh so married. He leaned on her chair and looked into the mirror at Audrey.“Oh hi, Derek.” Kendra made eyes at him again.Audrey frowned at her. If his wife ever saw her do that, she’d go ballistic.
To Audrey he was just a dear friend and director, who’d guided her through the complexity of cable television. “I was going to spend it with my son, but I got a call from my ex. Tony is going away to camp for eight weeks.”
“Camp?” He blinked in surprise. “Whose idea was that?”
“Tony and his best friend decided they wanted to go. My ex put him on the phone, so he could tell me.”
“Ouch.” Derek pulled down the corners of his mouth. “Best friend one, mom zero.”
“Yeah,” Audrey sighed, still feeling the sting of rejection. “He’s at an age now when friends are more important than mommy.”
“And, this is the dressing room where our star puts on her makeup for the camera.” Fox Watanabe, Audrey’s agent, was nattily dressed.  His straight midnight hair and dark eyes marked him as pure Native American. He seemed to be acting as a tour guide to the aliens.
A cameraman entered the dressing room ahead of the aliens, walking backward as he snapped pictures.
Audrey grimaced. God, what’s Fox doing now?
“The aliens look like elves,” Derek muttered under his breath.
“Yeah, they do.” Audrey noticed their pointed ears and long faces. “They could’ve played extras on the Lord of the Ring movies.”
“Got to go, things to do.” Derek headed toward the exit, but he slowed, and his back stiffened as he got near her agent.
Audrey tensed. Please don’t let them get into another argument over me.
“This is our little show’s director, Derek Alcorn.” Fox gestured toward him.
“Nice to meet you.” Derek gave a nod to the aliens. “I’ve got to button up the set.”
He hurried out of the room.
Fox turned back to the aliens. “He’s a busy man, lots of responsibilities.”
Audrey let out a breath. Fox had once again ignored the subtle dig Derek’s quick exit meant. The show’s director didn’t like chitchat, but he hated her agent even more.
“They have three penises each,” Kendra whispered in Audrey’s ear. She used a soaked cotton ball and ran it over the side of Audrey’s face to clean off the makeup.
Audrey turned to stare at her. “What?”
Kendra pinched Audrey’s chin, moving her head over to clean the other side.
“I saw a picture on the internet.” She whispered, “Two long ones and a little one. It makes you wonder what their women look like down there.”
Audrey licked her lips, trying to imagine the male aliens naked. Would their equipment look like my favorite toy?
Kendra moved back and smiled. “All done.”
Fox walked over to her, with the aliens in tow. “Here’s our Miz Fixit, Audrey Westberry.”
God, what a thing to tell me, just before I’m introduced to them. “How do you do?” Standing, Audrey held out her hand and tried not to glance at their crotches.
And coming soo: Alien Desire

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