Alien Fury is the eighth book in Chronicles of Arcon.
The Arcon, Thorn Grindstone, finds himself alone and injured, thawing in a disabled cryogenics tank. Making an impulsive deal for a fighter, he launches into a battle with a pirate ship before beginning his search for his people.
After Thorn crash-lands in the widow Roxie Carson’s corn field. Roxie nurses the injured Arcon. As tension worsens between Roxie and her brother-in-law, Thorn turns out to be an unexpected ally.
Roxie is grateful to the handsome alien, but what will happen when the Arcon government finally shows up and takes Thorn away? What will her brother-in-law do then?
Alien Fury: Chronicles of Arcon: Seagraves, Janice: 9798864319413: Amazon.com: Books
First Look:
Something screamed
over the roof of the house, and an orange glow lit up the bedroom windows—a
crash sounded close by. Roxie Carson sat up in bed with her heart hammering. “What’s
that?”
Kit Carson, Roxie’s German Shepard, started to give a continuous,
rapid bark.
She glanced at the empty side of the bed with her
mouth half open to say something to her husband. Roxie bit her lip against the
sting of tears. Her sorrow caused a huge, painful knot inside her chest. I have to do things by myself now which
includes investigating the scary noises.
Roxie trudged out of her warm bedroom. She pulled on
her coat, winter gloves, and knee-high rubber boots over her pajamas.
When she stepped outside, she spotted flecks of fire
out in her north acreage. Damn, I just
plowed that field, too.
Kit Carson ran to her, wagging his tail.
She patted his side. “Hey, boy, are you ready to go
see what that was?”
He barked once, which she took as a yes. But then he
was always ready to go at a moment’s notice.
The rains had made everything a muddy mess. Especially
the land she so carefully plowed. Her life had become a bitter battle. She had planted
corn, but then the monsoon season came and drowned the tender seedlings. The
drought that had plagued the farmlands had finally ended but at a cost. One
rainstorm after another brought by several Atmospheric Rivers had kept the
fields flooded. Great, just great. I
should plant rice. That’s a crop needing a lot of water.
She hurried over to the compact utility tractor. Her
husband’s last extravagant purchase. At the thought of her husband, her heart
squeezed. The backhoe was still attached from digging drainage ditches the day
before. Not that anything she tried helped.
Turning the key, the engine hesitated. “Come on, baby.
Turn over for Momma.” The tractor finally started, belching out a cloud of
diesel smelling smoke. She flipped on the headlights.
Kit Carson ran ahead, leading the way toward whatever
it was.
Her dog soon trotted next to a furrow scraped into the
muddy earth. Roxie steered the
tractor just behind her German Shepard, studying the furrow.
What did this?
The further she drove, the deeper into the earth it extended,
going from groove to trench. What the
hell hit my field? Maybe it’s a
meteor, and I can sell it on eBay for a thousand dollars. That thought cheered
Roxie up a bit. I could pay a few overdue
bills with that amount.
The ditch abruptly ended, and became a hole filled
with something black and gray. Steam rose, filling the air. Roxie parked the
tractor next to it then climbed out.
Her boots skidded on the muddy ground, she pinwheeled
her arms and slid right into the hole. Roxie fetched up against hot metal.
“Oof.”
Fins were attached to the back end, but the nose was
buried under the mud.
So, it’s something
man made.
The big eBay sale she planned winged away.
Kit shifted from foot to foot, whining down at her.
Roxie glanced sharply up at her dog. “No-no, you stay
up there. We don’t both need to be down in this mud hole.”
The trench continued to fill up with water.
If it’s a rocket,
I’ll need to report this to someone. But if it’s a jet there could be someone
trapped inside. One way to find out.
She knocked on the side three times and got a knock
back in the same sequence.
“Dios mío!
There’s someone in there.” With adrenaline filling her system, Roxie
scrambled out of the trench. She climbed into the tractor. Not wanting the mud
to make her steering wheel slippery, she tossed her filthy gloves out the door.
Turning the tractor around, she set the stabilizers down, fitted the backhoe’s
bucket down the hole. She started moving mud, one scoop at a time, flinging it
out faster than she’d ever made the tractor move before.
Kit Carson barked encouragement.
She finally unburied the front end of the black jet.
With the rain pouring down on the muddy top, she could just make out a
man-sized shape inside.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out!” She lifted the stabilizers
and drove around to the back end of the jet. She reset the stabilizers then stretched
the scoop out to its fullest length. Climbing out, she looped a lasso strap
around the tail of the jet, and at the other end, she hooked onto the backhoe’s
lifting ring. That done, she climbed back inside and began to lift the scoop. The
mechanism squealed and smoked. She shut it down. “Please, don’t mess up on me.
I can’t afford to have you fixed.”
The jet hadn’t moved.
She tried again, but the mechanism squealed and smoked
again. She shut it down. “Darn wings, they’re keeping the jet in place. Too bad
there isn’t a way to take them off.”
A whirling noise caught her attention. She rose up to
get a better look. The wings withdrew inside the body of the jet.
The poor guy
inside must have seen my problem.
“That helps a lot. Gracias,”
she called out, hoping he could hear her. Must
be an experimental type with retractable wings.
She tried again.
Finally, the sleek torpedo shaped jet came out of the hole.
It had skids like landing gear. That would make it easier to bring it back
to the house.
She hoped the jet wasn’t broken. Well, it probably won’t fly again after crashing into my field. The
pilot better have good insurance to cover it.
Enough mud still covered the windows of the cockpit
that she couldn’t make out whether the pilot was a man or woman. The dark
clouds obscuring the moon didn’t help either.
“I’m taking you back to the house, so I can get you
out of there!” Roxie yelled and changed the scoop position so it would pull
without lifting the jet in the air. She drove carefully toward her driveway,
with its large concrete parking area. The jet dragged along behind her.
Kit Carson led the way, as usual.
A cloud burst overhead, and it rained harder. She
turned on the windshield wipers and heater. The bright lights of the single-story,
rambling farmhouse with tan wood siding was a welcome beacon guiding her back.
As she drove, she prayed the person inside wasn’t badly
hurt.
She performed a U-turn, dragging the jet onto the oversized
cement parking lot and turned off the tractor. After stepping out, she took the
lasso towing strap off the black jet and stared at one of the bent runners.
The jet’s door retracted up, and the pilot peered out
at her.
As their gazes met, the shock of utter astonishment
flew through her.
“Dios mío!” He’s not human.
Amazon: Alien Fury: Chronicles of Arcon: Seagraves, Janice: 9798864319413: Amazon.com: Books
Barnes and Noble: Alien Fury Chronicles of Arcon Book 8 by Janice Seagraves | eBook | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)
Apple Books: Alien Fury Chronicles of Arcon Book 8 on Apple Books