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Newton’s First Teaser

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A Cyberpunk Novel

Motherboards & Magic, Book 1

 

Cyberpunk / Science Fiction

Date Published: August 2, 2024

 


 

 

Newton’s First Law: An object in motion remains in motion. Until an
outside force screws it all up.

As a grieving child in a burned-out husk of a body, Asher Syphamus was
given an impersonal room within the Company’s cold labs — until he
was offered a second chance with illegal and painful cybernetic
augmentations. Now, after many decades of martial arts training and mental
conditioning, Ash is the all powerful DPL’s top agent and never misses
a target. Along with his beautiful, hyper-sexed purple partner, Vers, the
unstoppable duo hunts down the most dangerous hackers and criminals for
punishment or elimination.

Korya Funo is full of privileged DPL information downloaded into her brain.
If caught, she would be deleted from the census. That keeps her running —
until her luck runs out in Paradise, Nevada. When she’s captured by
Ash and Vers, Korya accidentally reveals the truth about Asher’s
parents’ deaths, and then all hell breaks loose.

Now with all their lives on the line and the fate of the planet riding on
their backs, they trio will show the world why Newton’s First Law is
not to be screwed with.

 

EXCERPT

Copyright ©2024 Stephanie Burke & Areana Senoj

 

“Fuck, Vers. Where are you?” Asher Syphamus muttered softly,
knowing the cochlear implant installed just above his jaw bone and below his
ear would pick up his words.

The wind whipped back the few tendrils of hair that escaped the tight bun
containing his long hair. The bun hid locks tipped a rich blue almost
matching the color of his cybernetic left eye.

As he walked away from the Virt Dive, the virtual reality diving bar where
his mark had been lost earlier in the Blue, he wondered why people even
bothered to hide from real life. The fucking Blue was where everyone logged
in, turned on, and turned up in cyberspace. The Blue was a whole world
inside the actual world, one that many used to escape life, spread joy,
disappear into a sea of information, of education… to be your avatar
while you fled your body and got lost in a way that only total computer
immersion could bring. And above the Blue was the White.

The White was a shady, dangerous place where only the most experienced
divers dared to venture — the environment was just too dangerous for a
diver used to only dealing with the Blue. The White was physically a small
blank plane existing between the connection of the Blue and the person
putting out information. Here, the world’s best hackers snatched
dangerous information from accidental info dumps from those who purposefully
stole and sold the data to the highest bidder. No matter how many protocols
were put in place to protect the vulnerable space, the White divers always
found a way in. And his latest ping had come from the mark he’d
finally tracked down to this dive.

He felt the signal he was tracking start to move again and watched as his
target slipped out, looking over her shoulder as if she knew he was there
and following her. As he walked past the large, mirrored wall to the shop,
he caught a quick glimpse of himself as he passed. His face was pale, creamy
tan, the same as his mother’s. He had her eyes too, large but with an
epicanthic fold that proclaimed his Asian ancestry. His eyebrows had some
thickness but with a natural arch that made his eyes rather pretty. He had
his African father’s full lips, though not the same concentration of
melanin, more’s the pity. He could use more sun protection in this
bright-assed desert. His nose was broad though, its bridge straight as a
knife, and his cheekbones were high and sharp, like his dad’s. His
thick, wavy hair was kept long and confined now so it wouldn’t get in
his way.

Though he only caught a glimpse of himself as he followed after his mark,
he could barely stand to look at his reflection. He was a damn near perfect
combination of both his parents from what he could recall, though he
didn’t dwell on that much. The pain of it all was still too
crushing.

The air circulating through his lungs was quiet as he pulled in his
emotions. Barely a sound emerged from his body as his booted feet slammed
down on the concrete when his body lurched forward. His little trip into
nostalgia had given his mark time to run and now he had to give chase.

His heart would be racing if it actually had the capacity to pump hot blood
through his veins. His target was pulling a jackrabbit, dodging in between
early morning foot traffic on the busy city street as she looked around her,
prey knowing she was being stalked by an apex predator. Only the bright and
very visible green of her plaits kept him from moving any faster. No matter
how much he wanted to knock people aside to reach his target, he knew that
drawing more attention to himself would be detrimental to their
mission.

“I’ve been at this since the ass crack of dawn and I would
really like to get some accurate intel from you, you one-being
orgy.”

Don’t get cheeky, Vers responded. You’re just upset you don’t get laid.

Vers’ answer through Asher’s implanted microphone sounded more
amused than insulted. That wasn’t what Asher had hoped for. When Vers
was annoyed, his work efficiency increased by almost three percent and he
could use some of that efficiency now, at least until he caught up with the
woman who pinged on his internal sensors.

“Hmph,” Asher huffed. “Can you keep your mind out of your
pants and on the job? I need to know if she’s the one.”

The green-haired woman in question cast one more furtive look over her
shoulder before trying to hide herself in a gaggle of schoolchildren, all
racing and gleefully dodging through the streets teeming with people
traveling to get to their jobs and appointments in the watery light of a new
sun. With their connection pads in hand, the tourist masses were an
explosion of color, a flock of bright, chattering birds that raced through
the smiling crowds. Their laughter was contagious, and it made Asher grit
his teeth. In a firefight, mundanes always seemed to run right in the path
of danger. He wished they would all just disappear.

I’m working on it. Give me a mo. Paradaise has a complicated network
of —

“You just don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.”
Asher managed to dodge several children, keeping one eye on the green of his
mark’s hair as she ducked around a corner. He was closing in.

He moved faster, desperate not to lose her or give his position away. She
couldn’t know if he was actually chasing her and he wanted to stay in
that pocket of the unknown. She might sense someone or something was hot on
her tail, but she had no idea from which direction the attack would come.
And it wasn’t like there were a lot of places to hide in Paradaise,
Nevada.

And then he wanted to smack himself stupid for thinking that a woman who
could possibly be the government hacker he was sent out to find
wouldn’t be wily enough to actually give him the slip. Underestimation
was going to cost him dearly because the moment he turned the corner, he
lost sight of her in a sea of green, low-flying kites.

Hey buddy, guess what? Did you know there’s a butterfly kite flying
festival today? There’s gonna be a lot of kids and old people so maybe
you wanna keep an eye out for that
.

“Gee, thanks, Vers. You couldn’t fucking tell me that five
minutes earlier?” As he spoke, he heard a cheer, and a wall of sound
rushed past him as the hum of several hundred robotic and some basic silk
cloth kites took to the sky. People looked up in awe as dancing holograms of
colorful transparent butterflies took to the sky, spinning and dancing as
safe holographic fireworks exploded over them.

Well, it’s a point of historical interest, as they’ve been
having the butterfly festival for over a hundred years. Get some culture,
you asshole. You need it more than you need to get laid
.

“What I need is a way around this mess.” Asher looked around at
the mass of people, made up mostly of children and old people gathered in
groups, each holding massive butterfly kites of their own. Some held remotes
that controlled the flight of the butterfly kites, both real and illusory.
Most of them, unfortunately, glittered and glowed the same primarily green
color that matched his mark’s hair.

Pinging your location, Vers purred in his ear after a moment of quiet while more and more people
filed onto the special moving sidewalk heading toward the restored MGM
Grand, singing and chanting as they moved.
Oh! You aren’t far from the New Bellagio. One of these days I’m
going to get you there for a real upgrade instead of the crap the powers
that be keep sending you to
.

“Vers –”

I mean it. You’re in a town right outside of Vegas, baby! Almost to
the cybernetic playground of the whole entire continent ever since the
redesign of the area. To get anything better you’d have to hop a
streaker across the Pacific to Japan. It’s amazing what they can do
with both artistry and circuitry
.

“Whatever the fuck,” Asher grumbled, casting his gaze around.
He ignored the small vibration in his brain as the ocular implant adjusted
and repositioned, sending his mind a feed of information calculating the
height of the buildings and the large vehicles passing by.

Turning to a small three-story building to his right, Asher took three
fast, bounding steps then flexed his leg muscles. With a mechanical whisper,
he launched himself skywards, a blurred silver flash through the backdrop of
colorful fluttering kites, before he landed on the flat solar tiles of the
roof.

Bent over, he raced along the edges of the closely placed buildings,
jumping the odd ones that bordered on alleys, leaping up to the higher ones,
his eyes constantly searching, feeding him data so he could adjust his
flight.

He was contemplating going back to the ground and following her along the
crowded streets when he saw a blur of green headed away from the celebration
and toward a small, dark street that led away from the sound of laughter and
merriment.

There, in between a closed toy shop on one side and ironically, an adult
toy shop, was where his prey was fleeing.

To the left, Casanova, Vers confirmed softly with the just the right amount of sarcasm for the
nickname.
And you better move swiftly. She’s about to head to a parking lot and
if she has her vehicle shielded, well, we are shit out of luck, Ash. If she
gets away, you’d be better off hitting a pleasure palace and getting
your freak on ‘cause that signal is going to be scattered and lost. And
I urge you to take advantage of the many wonderful and erotic amenities that
this run-down trash heap of a city provides. Besides, your cherry needs
plucking ‘cause that bitch is overripe
.

 

 

About the Authors

Stephanie Burke is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning
author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually
confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to
pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do
more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and
world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts,
an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing
cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied
legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female
characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and
multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice. 

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Areana Senoj is a multi-genre writer of erotic romance, paranormal, and sci-fi fantasy
fiction. She’s been an actress, singer, dancer, educator, and, briefly, a stay-at-home
“tennis, soccer, and band mom,” as well as a small business entrepreneur. Now she’s
enjoying a new career living life as a full-time writer. She’s thrilled to join Changeling
Press, where she’s teamed up with USA Today Best Selling Author Stephanie Burke,
co-authoring Motherboards and Magic. 

Author’s Blog

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

 

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Hatter Teaser

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Hatter cover

Underland MC, Book One

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: July 19, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

 

 

Jo: I’d thought Eddie was sweet and charming, until I learned the
hard way his smile disguised the devil inside him. He speaks with his fists,
and there have been many times I wanted to die. When I finally manage to
escape, I vow to do whatever it takes to keep away from Eddie. But stepping
out in front of the Underland MC and begging for their help hadn’t
been part of my plan. Now that I’m with the Underland MC, I’m
not sure if I should trust them, even if their club president does make me
feel a bit weak in the knees. Will this be the best decision I ever made, or
end up being the one thing that finally kills me?

Hatter: Becoming a civilian after nearly two decades of military service
made me feel like I’d fallen down the proverbial rabbit hole, so my
brothers and I made the Underland MC. We didn’t have any grand plan.
Then Jo came into my life. The more I find out about her ex, the more I
realize things are rotten in the town of Warren, TN. This place is my home
now, and I not only want to protect Jo, but the townspeople as well. If that
means we’re going to war, then so be it. I’ve never backed down
from a challenge, and I won’t start now.

 

WARNING: Hatter is a contemporary suspense romance that is intended for
readers 18+. It contains bad language, adult situations, and violence. If
you’re looking for a light, fluffy romance, this isn’t it.

 

Hatter book

 

 

Excerpt

 

Hatter

 

“Cheshire, I said no strippers.” I glared at him, my eyes
narrowing into slits as I emphasized each word.

“Come on, Hatter. It’s just a bit of fun,” Cheshire
retorted, his trademark grin never faltering. He leaned back against the
worn chair across from my desk, seemingly unfazed by the intensity of our
discussion.

“Cheshire, this event isn’t about fun. We’re raising
funds for the local kids’ hospital. A bunch of naked girls shaking
their asses doesn’t fit in that picture.” My voice was hard and
unyielding, leaving no room for compromise.

“Fine, fine.” Cheshire held up his hands in mock surrender.
“No strippers. But we need some kind of entertainment. How about a
live band?”

“Band’s fine,” I conceded, rubbing my temples as I felt
the beginnings of a headache forming. These club events always gave me
migraines, but it was my job to make sure they went smoothly. While we
mostly kept to ourselves, at least twice a year we tried to do something for
the community.

“All right then.” Cheshire stood and leaned over the desk,
bracing his hands on top. “I’ll organize the band and take care
of all the other arrangements.”

“Make sure you do.” I stared at him, ensuring my message sank
in. “We can’t afford any screwups with this one.”

“Trust me, boss.” Cheshire winked. “Everything will be
perfect.”

“See to it.” My tone brooked no argument. As the president of
the Underland MC, it was my responsibility to make sure my club stayed out
of trouble and maintained a good image in Warren. The town had been good to
us, and it was important to give back. All right, so it hadn’t been
all sunshine and roses. Not at first. When we’d built this place and
moved in, everyone had thought we were criminals and treated us accordingly.
We’d worked hard to prove we were trustworthy and wouldn’t
destroy Warren.

When we’d first decided to start this club, it had taken weeks to
narrow down where we might want to live. It just so happened, the small town
of Warren, Tennessee, had the perfect plot of land for sale. Far enough from
big cities, we still felt like we were relaxing in the country, but close
enough to anything we’d need, like a grocery store or pharmacy.

Absolem had used his inheritance to buy the land, put up a fence, and build
a clubhouse. With the exception of times we wanted to make sure we
didn’t have people popping up, we’d leave the gates open. It
wasn’t like we had anything to hide. Each of us had a room here, and a
few more to spare. In addition to the men who’d created this place
with me, we’d gathered a few other lost souls along the way, each one
floundering after being discharged from the military, just like us. Tweedle
had been the first. He’d come home so badly broken I hadn’t
known if he’d make it. More than once, I’d worried he might
decide to put a bullet in his brain. Thankfully, being around the club had
helped him heal, even if he still had a long way to go. Knave and Mock had
been next, joining almost at the same time. And Carpenter had been the
last.

“All right.” Cheshire clapped his hands together, finally
taking things seriously. “Let’s get this show on the
road.”

“Damn right.” I nodded. “And let’s remember why
we’re doing this. It’s not just a party. It’s for those
kids.”

“Understood.” Cheshire saluted me, his grin returned to his
face as he turned to leave. “I won’t let you down.”

“See that you don’t,” I warned, watching him stride out
of the room. “Or you’ll be scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush
for a month.”

“Promises, promises.” Cheshire laughed from the doorway.
“I’ll get on it, Hatter. You can count on me.”

“Good,” I called after him, “because if this event goes
south, it isn’t just the club that’ll suffer. The whole damn
town will feel it too.”

The event might be adults only, but we’d charge a fee to enter the
compound for the night. Everyone would kick back with drinks, food, and
music. By the time we closed it down, I hoped we’d have a decent chunk
of change to help those kids.

“Understood.” Cheshire nodded once more before disappearing
into the hallway. I could only hope he’d take my words to heart.

“All right.” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Let’s get this done.”

The door slammed open, and in walked March, his eyes blazing with urgency.
He was all muscle and grit, an imposing figure who had seen more than his
fair share of shit. For that matter, we all had.

“Boss,” he said, getting straight to the point.
“We’ve got trouble.”

“Spit it out,” I demanded, my pulse racing as worry gnawed at
me. This was the last thing the club needed right now. We kept our noses
clean, paid taxes, and did our best to not draw attention to ourselves. So
what the hell could have happened?

“Rumblings from North Carolina.” March’s voice was low,
serious. “A rival MC’s been sniffing around our territory. Looks
like they’re planning something. And these assholes aren’t like
us. They’re into some nasty shit. If they get their hooks in Warren,
this place won’t be the same.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, my mind racing. “How close are
they?”

“Too damn close.” March growled. “They’ve been
spotted just outside town, and it isn’t a coincidence they picked
here.”

“All right,” I said, my brain shifting into high gear.
“We need a plan. We can’t let them jeopardize what we got going
on here, especially not now.”

“Agreed.” March nodded. “I’ve already put our boys
on alert, but we need to be ready for anything.”

“Good,” I said, my thoughts swirling like a tornado. “I
want you to gather intel, find out everything you can about their movements,
intentions, whatever. The more we know, the better prepared we’ll
be.”

“Roger that.” March saluted, his face set like stone. Some old
habits were harder to get rid of than others. “I won’t let them
get the drop on us.”

“See that you don’t,” I warned. “We’ve worked
too hard to let some wannabe tough guys tear us down.”

“Understood.” March gave a mock salute and turned to leave.
“I’ll report back as soon as I have something
solid.”

“Good,” I called after him. “And keep Cheshire in the
loop too. We need to stay united on this one.”

“Will do,” March replied, his steps echoing in the hall as he
left.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Just when things
were starting to look up.”

I knew we had our work cut out for us. Our enemies were relentless, and any
sign of weakness would be like blood in the water. The club was my family,
and there was no way in hell I’d let anyone threaten what we’d
built together.

 

Hatter teaser

 

 

About the Author

 

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, Patreon, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

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Prendarian Chronicles Duet Teaser

Prendarian Chronicles Duet cover

A Sci-Fi Futuristic Women’s Fiction

Date Published: July 12, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

 

 

Two worlds hang in the balance. Two love affairs will change both
societies. Forever.

For the Love of Rigah — Rigah, the most powerful woman on the world of
Prendara, has purchased a handsome Earther slave to serve as her consort.
Jason vows to resist and refuses to accept his role as Rigah’s
personal whore. But he can’t fight the passion she demands from
him… or the need to demand much more than passion from her. More than
she may be willing to give.

For the Heart of Daria — A human who’s lived under alien domination
for her entire life, Daria vows to rid Earth of the evil invaders no matter
what the cost — even if it means seducing a powerful alien sympathizer. But
Gray isn’t the monster she wants him to be. Yet despite the passion he
forces her to feel, nothing will ever convince her to trust him.

Prendarian Chronicles Duet tablet

About the Author

Gemma Woods has no spouse, no children, and no pets. Her family is
imaginary — she writes them. Outside her imaginary world, she enjoys the
typical author hobbies of reading, traveling, and fretting over her dying
houseplants.

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

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The Maker of Worlds Teaser

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The Maker of Worlds cover

Fantasy

Date Published: 05-22-2024

Publisher: Evolved Publishing

 

 

If you had the chance to remake the world, what kind of world would you
choose?

When tragedy strikes Lucas Mack’s young life, he desperately yearns to
escape its sorrow, and takes an improbable leap through the mythical
maelstrom. Rather than splashing down on the far side like his neighbors,
he’s transported to a magical realm where he has the power to redefine not
only who he is, but the world in which he resides.

As he stumbles about trying to find his way, he meets Mia, an equally
troubled fellow pilgrim. With the help of a mystical guide and an aging
wizard, they navigate the enchanted land while learning to control their
newfound powers. Yet this realm is more complex than they expected, with
seasoned sorcerers who’ve been corrupted by the sinister side of
magic.

Limited by natural law and seduced by magic’s power, they are tested as
never before. Will the gift of magic bring renewed hope or drive them to the
edge of the void? 

 

Excerpt

Chapter 1 – The Departure

All stories begin with a question, and this is mine: if you had the chance to remake the world, what kind of world would you choose?
Let me start from the beginning. 

 The day before my leap, spring had peeked above the horizon. A bolder sun had inspired buds to sprout on the branches, so tiny they stood out only when moistened by the morning dew. A smattering of flowers had bloomed as well, daffodils and the tips of tulips that showed more as promise. Forsythias bulged yellow, lilacs blossomed and spread their fragrance, and the air tasted fresher too, as if purified by the increased sunlight. A time for hope. 

But not for me. The arrival of spring did nothing to remove the cloud that had shadowed my days and darkened my dreams these past six months. 

Addy had always chided me for living only part time in the real world, the rest of my time filled with flights of fantasy. 

I disagreed. My approach had always been a conscious choice, a matter of perspective. After all, what was so wonderful about reality? 

Her answer: only in the real world would I find her. 

I discovered too late how harsh my life would be without her. 

I’d slept poorly that night, my sleep disturbed by dreams, but when I awoke well before dawn, my resolve remained. Though I’d sleepwalked through my coming of age five years earlier, my circumstance had now changed, replaced by a lingering sadness, a malaise that would not heal. I’d become inclined to imagine another life elsewhere, desperate to try out an alternate path. On this day, I intended to test the maelstrom. 

The maelstrom appeared as a swirling circle of water for only three days each year, starting at the equinox—an unusual anomaly that behaved in a manner different from a proper whirlpool. This vortex hovered a foot above the lake’s surface and, more bizarrely, stood vertical. 

Townsfolk debated its purpose. The more rational claimed a perturbation of light, like a prism, caused by sprays of seasonal runoff and the angle of the sun. Others believed it to be magic, though none existed in our world. 

Of course, what we called magic might be nothing more than a label for things beyond the boundaries of reason. Natural phenomenon might still be magic. The sun’s rays lifted our spirits, and the advent of spring lightened our hearts. 

Each year, as the equinox approached, young boys who’d reached their eighteenth year would boast about their intent to challenge the maelstrom. In practice, few did. By eighteen, most had narrowed their path through life, following the example of their elders, or rebelled and chosen a contrarian course. With age, the lust for adventure diminished to bluster, tall tales told to impress their younger peers. 

Those who took the leap landed with a splash on the far side to the derision of their mates, but rumors alleged one had vanished years ago as villagers gaped, never to return. Philosophers speculated the swirling water might be a gateway to the gods, but only for those with sufficient faith. 

At eighteen, I would never have abandoned Addy, but once she was gone, my desire for change stirred. While I lacked the required faith, this was caused by the cruelty of the world, and did not reflect my belief in magic. My desperation grew until, in the spring of my twenty-third year, I determined to go. 

I’d leave before sunup, guaranteeing solitude on the shore. Should I stumble through the maelstrom to no effect, no one would witness my folly. Still in a daze, I stowed provisions in my backpack: a day’s worth of salted mutton, a loaf of hard bread, two dried apples, a full waterskin, a knife, a flint, and a rain slicker to ward off the morning chill. 

At the doorway of my Queen’s Hill cottage, I hesitated. This morning’s excursion would likely be a fool’s errand, but what if it turned out to be something more, a journey to who-knows-where? As I gazed down to the lake, a sense of foreboding crept over me. No matter. Foolhardy or not, I was committed.

 I slipped across the threshold and navigated the switchbacks in the dark. 

 The maelstrom hovered over the shallows a dozen paces offshore, in the dim light showing as nothing more than a disturbance in the air. I yanked off my boots, knotted the laces and slung them around my neck. As I rolled my trousers above the knee, I cast a lingering glance up the hill to catch a last glimpse of my cottage. 

I waited until the eastern horizon reddened and waded into the lake. 

An arm’s length from the gateway, I reached out, keeping as far away as possible while my fingertips brushed its surface. It felt like… nothing, likely no more than an illusion. In half an hour, I’d be back in my bed, no closer to comprehending the universe. Yet I’d yearned for a portal to another world, one that might allow me to deviate from accepted norms. I longed to float off to a fresher fate. 

Once, I too would have followed the safe path, with no risk of surprise, but then life did surprise me with a cosmic slap across the face that left me shattered—the taking of Addy. At twenty-two, misfortune had cleared the slate, leaving me alone and adrift. 

I drew in a breath and plunged through. 

In the light of pre-dawn, and in my half-awake state, no difference struck me at first, other than the chill waters deeper than expected, soaking the rolls of my trousers. Out of the mist on either side, giant evergreens loomed graceful as usual, rising until their tops blurred. The view so distracted me that several heartbeats passed before I realized the change. 

Perhaps I was still sleeping in my bed, for where the channel to the west lake should have been, a broad flood plain spread. The water had washed over the banks and crept inland for a hundred paces, leaving the trees the only witness to what once had been dry land. 

Beyond the trees, nothing. 

Nowhere a dock or a mooring, not so much as a hint of early morning smoke rising from a chimney. Nowhere the cottages of Queen’s Hill. Nowhere houses at all. As I gaped, the edges of branches shimmered as if undecided whether to remain intangible or become real. In a panic, I realized the folly of this quest. Better to return to a safer, albeit gloomier life, to go back through the portal at once. 

Behind me, the maelstrom still swirled, a fleeting comfort as it had started to recede. While I stared at the last link to my old world, the orb diminished, shrunk to a size I could cover with my hand, and then to that of the tip of my thumb. Before I sloshed more than two steps closer, it winked out. 

Now, to the north and the south, nothing showed but water. I stumbled to shore, my movements causing the slightest wake in the surface, which lay so still I could make out my astonished features in the reflection. 

I’d spent much of my young life with Addy, like a mate sailing across a forever lake. She’d been with me through calm and storm. I’d yearned to find renewed hope on this side of the gateway and return home to a new life, yet now the gateway, like Addy, had vanished.

 

About the Author

David Litwack

The urge to write first struck at age sixteen when working on a newsletter
at a youth encampment in the woods of northern Maine. It may have been the
wild night when lightning flashed at sunset followed by the northern lights
rippling after dark. Or maybe it was the newsletter’s editor, a girl with
eyes the color of the ocean. But he was inspired to write about the blurry
line between reality and the fantastic.

Using two fingers and lots of white-out, he religiously typed five pages a
day throughout college and well into his twenties. Then life intervened. He
paused to raise two sons and pursue a career, in the process — and without
prior plan — becoming a well-known entrepreneur in the software industry,
founding several successful companies. When he found time again to daydream,
the urge to write returned.

David now lives in the Great Northwest. He no longer limits himself to five
pages a day and is thankful every keystroke for the invention of the word
processor.

 

Contact Links

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Facebook: David Litwack – Author

Twitter: @DavidLitwack

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Taken by the Valkyrie Teaser

Taken by the Valkyrie banner

Taken by the Valkyrie cover

A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novella

 

Taken, Book 6

 

Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Date Published: July 5, 2024

 

 

Kara is tired of her role as a Valkyrie, not that she has much choice.
Being a Valkyrie is her identity. It’s in her blood. But she can only
witness so much death and destruction. Her faith in humanity has waned.
Until she meets Eric.

Eric, a retired Airman, is just as tired. He’s seen things he
believes no one else would understand. Then he picks up Kara and his world
is turned upside down. She’s the one he never saw coming and the one
he can’t live without — if only she can handle his past.

The past might not be more than they can overcome, but what if these two
warriors are exactly what they each need?

 

Taken by the Valkyrie teaser

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2024 Megan Slayer

 

“Don’t you dare get attached.”

Kara folded her arms and groaned. She’d heard that line so many times
through the centuries. What did attachments have to do with her? She
wasn’t about to hook up with anyone long-term again. She’d made
that mistake once and nearly paid with her life.

Not again.

Brynhildr glared at her. “You’re not listening.”

Kara snorted and shifted her attention from her thoughts to the elder
Valkyrie. “You’re right. I’m not.” She mentally
repeated the rules — Valkyries are duty-bound, not permitted to form
attachments, should stay free and vigilant.

Fine. Except she didn’t want to be on duty any longer. The job had
become too dangerous. She’d long tired of the blood, the gore, the
anger. She’d retrieved so many warriors from the field of battle and
delivered them to Valhalla, but she could only take the devastation for so
long.

“I don’t like you getting into scuffles in bars.”
Brynhildr shook her head and leaned her elbows on the high-top table.
“You’re looking for trouble. What do you have? A death
wish?”

“What if I do?” She picked at the peanut shell remaining in the
bowl. The bartender needed to replenish the snacks. When the monster came
back around, she’d say something.

“What do you mean?” Brynhildr asked. “You’re
getting careless, like you’re inviting trouble. You do know
there’s something big planned for you.”

“Is there?” At least she didn’t have to explain herself.
She wasn’t about to tell the elder she wanted to rest for a long time
— like forever. She’d contemplated final solutions a few times, but
the idea of actually dying scared her. Her ex had tried to kill her, but
she’d been reincarnated. Helgi swore he’d never let her forget
him.

She hadn’t.

But she also didn’t want to be with him any longer.

“There’s a plan for you, Kara. Don’t jeopardize
it.” Brynhildr sighed and reached for Kara’s arm.
“What’s got you so upset? Talk to me. You can’t bottle it
inside or you’ll lose the battle.”

She knew that all too well. Brynhildr was right. They did need to talk.
“I don’t want to retrieve any longer. I want a break. I
can’t handle the death and gore anymore. I’m tired of seeing so
much pain. My heart can’t take it. I don’t want to settle down,
but I need time away. I’ve thought about just ending it all to make
the pain go away.”

“Don’t do that.” Brynhildr squeezed Kara’s bicep.
“You’re my dear friend. When you feel that way again, you tell
me. I’ll sit with you as long as you need and even when you
don’t.”

“I know you will.” She’d never doubted her friend and
elder Valkyrie. “What’s this big thing planned for
me?”

“Promise me you’ll call me when you get low.” Brynhildr
held tight to Kara’s arm. “Promise.”

“I will.” She wouldn’t go back on that.

“But you asked about the something big,” Brynhildr said.
“Not all warriors need to go to Valhalla. Some need care here first.
It’s up to you if you’re interested in giving that care before
they can go. It doesn’t mean they’re on the battlefield. In some
cases, they’re still fighting even though they’re
home.”

“Still?” she murmured. Someone else understood what she saw
when she closed her eyes?

“You might even find yourself along the way.”

She hadn’t expected the elder to say that. She’d expected to
stay lost and drift away. But if she could help someone, that would be good
— if she could even help. Most people were afraid of her. What if the
person she was supposed to assist didn’t want her help? What if they
didn’t like her?

“We have someone specific in mind for your first job. What if I could
tell you what he looks like?” Brynhildr asked. “Could show
you?”

“You could?” Now the elder had her full attention. “Show
me.”

“Are you interested in taking a different route and helping
him?”

She hesitated. She should say no and return to sulking. “I am.”
The words spilled off her tongue. She didn’t hear the undercurrent of
conversation in the bar, didn’t smell the cigarettes and stale beer in
the air, or even notice the smoke swirling around her. Her senses
hyper-focused on what Brynhildr said. “I want to see him.”

“Very well.” Brynhildr produced a mirror.

The image of a man formed in the glass. Brown hair, crinkles around his
brown eyes, tension in his posture, too thin, but handsome. Kara narrowed
her eyes. He was damn cute, but wasn’t he off-limits? “I
can’t get attached to him?”

“You know the code.”

She did.

She also wasn’t entirely sure what he’d be like. He might be a
jerk. Have the  personality of a brick. Or he could be damn sexy,
enticing, and sweet. Just lost too. He could be the kind of man a woman
wanted to chase, to wrap up in, and never let go. The kind she wanted to
kiss, touch, and tease. To feel moving inside her.

Not the perfect man — but damn close.

If he really existed.

He might not.

There wasn’t much point in getting her hopes up.

“Just don’t fall in love.” Brynhildr shook her head.
“Remember how that worked out with Helgi? This one might be a better
fit and not nearly so violent, but you’re a proud Valkyrie, and you
should remain unattached.”

“I should.” She’d followed the rules during this life.
Previous ones? Not so much. This time around, she wanted to be a good
Valkyrie. A proud one. She didn’t have time for romance. No time to
waste on something that wasn’t going to last.

What if it did? What if this wasn’t just a passing fancy? What if
they fell in love?

She had to stop thinking like this. Just because falling in love was
possible didn’t mean it’d happen. Falling on her head was just
as possible. Gods, it was more believable. She wasn’t a kid and
didn’t need love.

Right?

Everyone could live without love and affection.

What if she didn’t want to any longer? What if she wanted to be
romanced?

What if he had the key to her happiness, and he held the key to her
heart?

Only the power of the gods could show her that truth.

Where was a god when she needed one?

“He’s here in Eerie. I’ll bet you’ve seen
him,” Brynhildr said. “Don’t spook him. I know
you’re good at being blunt.”

 

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

Author Contact Links

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Publisher on Facebook, Twitter & Instagram: @changelingpress

 

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