Refuge from the World Kim McMahill (The Beartooth Chronicles, #1) Publication date: March 19th 2024 Genres: Dystopian, New Adult, Young Adult
Ashley McPhee arrived in Beartooth with her mom, Sara, when she was three years old. Ever since Ash can remember, life has been simple and peaceful. She enjoyed a carefree childhood, tending honey bees with her mom and spending time with her best friend, Caleb Solomon. But, life in their idyllic mountaintop community is changing.
After learning of the government’s plan to use a geoengineering process to cool the planet, Ash and Caleb realize they need to step up and take an active role in the community. Along with fear for how the process might impact their food supply, Ash learns her mom’s health is failing.
Sara doesn’t want Ash to face an uncertain future alone and nudges her and Caleb into marriage. Even though they have known each other most of their lives, Ash and Caleb’s relationship has changed drastically in a short period of time. They embrace the challenges of learning about each other, dealing with tragedy and grief, protecting their community from deadly predators and ruthless neighbors, and experiencing epic adventures, while trying to find solutions to a rapidly changing environment and deteriorating world.
Ash fell into step next to Caleb without talking. They had known each other for so long that they could be together without saying a word, and it didn’t feel awkward. When they reached the lake, they sat down on one of the large boulders scattered around the shore and stared out at the water.
“The lake level goes down a little more each year,” Caleb said.
“I’ve noticed. It used to be up to that cluster of rocks over there when we would go fishing when we were younger.”
“Rain isn’t enough to keep it full. The last time I remember seeing snow up here was when I was seven, and it didn’t stick around. Seems kind of ironic that so much of the planet is flooded, yet many worry about having enough fresh water to drink and to irrigate crops.”
“Why did we stop fishing?” Ash asked.
“I didn’t stop fishing. I still go fishing at least once a week. When you started taking a more active role in the beekeeping and tree nursery, you were available less and less. I go first thing in the morning, and that’s when you and your mom do most of your work.”
“I miss going fishing with you. I’ll see if Mom cares if we change around the schedule a bit unless you don’t want me tagging along like I did when I was younger.”
“I miss it too. I would love for you to tag along even though you always out-fished me.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. Ash laid her head on his shoulder and stared out at the lake. They sat like this sometimes, not as much as they used to, and she missed this too. She loved the feel of his arm around her and the warmth of his body next to hers, but never read too much into the gesture. Today, especially, she was in no hurry to break the connection.
“Are you going to the community meeting tonight?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Yes. I keep getting these unsettling feelings, and I hope to find out if it’s just my imagination or if there is something I should be worried about. First, I find out you’ve been tasked with building weapons, then I had an odd conversation with your dad, found out we’re having an off-cycle community meeting, and all of a sudden Mom is all over me about marrying Tyler Hewitt.”
“What!” Caleb shouted as he scooted away and turned his body to face her. “You’re not seriously considering marrying that old man, are you?”
“No, but apparently, they’ve talked about it. I pointed out to Mom that he’s eleven years younger than she, but eighteen years older than me. In Tyler’s defense, I can only think of a couple of other eligible women between his age and mine.”
“He has no defense. For him to even be thinking about it, is wrong. When he moved here, you were what? Three? Four? Why now?”
“I think Mom is worried about getting old and leaving me alone. I don’t think she’s been feeling well, but I don’t know if it’s anything serious.”
Caleb stood up and paced. Ash watched him, confused by his reaction.
“I don’t plan to marry Tyler or anyone else not of my choosing. But, I’m not sure why you would care anyway since you’ve got eyes on Evelyn.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Apparently, her mother has been telling people that you two have been spending time together.”
“That’s not true. She tagged along when I was delivering deer meat the other day to the storehouse, but that was it. I most certainly didn’t ask her to come with me, and all she did was ask me questions about Dillon. Besides, she’s just a girl.”
Ash chuckled. “If people are happy to pawn me off on a man eighteen years older, a mere four years between you and Evelyn is nothing.”
She watched as Caleb retreated to the water’s edge. He picked up a flat stone and skipped it across its glassy surface. Ash walked to his side and stood next to him.
“We’d better get back. The meeting starts in a couple of hours, and I should help Mom with dinner,” Ash said as she turned to leave.
Caleb grabbed her arm and pulled her back until she was facing him. “Let’s hear what they have to say tonight. If there is some reason why everyone needs to get married, you’re marrying me.”
“And, what if there is no need?” she asked softly.
“Well, maybe we should anyway.”
Author Bio:
Kim McMahill started out writing nonfiction, but her passion for adventure, stories of survival against the odds, and speculating about the future of humanity and our planet, soon turned her attention towards fiction. She has published eleven novels, over eighty travel and human-interest articles, and contributed to a travel story anthology. Growing up in a beautiful mountain west community, traveling the world, and enjoying a twenty-year career with the National Park Service, has given her the opportunity to live in amazing places, experience incredible adventures, and witness many changes in our world, all of which have helped shape her stories.
Plug your ears. And whatever you do, don’t look. The war for humanity has begun.
Cameron “Jet” Shipley was there when they arrived in 2026. He, and everyone else, lived through the next decade and a half, learning to hide. Learning to never make a sound. Learning the most important rule of all:
You just..don’t…look.
The year is now 2042, and humanity is eking out an existence in the shadows.
Cameron and his team are sent out on a recon mission in Clarksville Tennessee, with events and developments that may alter the trajectory of Earth’s fate… and his own.
Joined by newcomers Bassett and Trudy, Cameron and his brother Rut will have to contend with a powerful force that has laid waste to the planet and annihilated over eighty-five percent of Earth’s civilization. Will Jet’s expeditions lead him on a slippery slope of discovery that demands accountability and answers?
Or will it plunge the earth, and everything in it, into further dissonance?
“Aliens” meets “A Quiet Place” in this dystopian
sci-fi thriller series.
Excerpt
I remember when the gorgons first arrived in 2026. Admittedly, we were all enthralled. I was too. Sis was especially enthralled. Somebody in Guatemala spotted the first one, if I remember correctly. It just came drifting down, straight out of the sky, near sunset: so humanoid, and yet enshrouded in mist. They had angelic qualities to them. Some of us wondered if they were messengers from God. Their bodies were cloaked in that blueish-green vapor. It was really creepy, but for whatever reason it’s the creepy things that draw us in the most. We just can’t look away, like a moth to a flame.
Then there was another. And another. And five more. And then more. And then twenty more. Fifty. Four hundred. More kept coming, just slowing down to a geostationary orbit fifty feet above the ground all over the earth.
The dogs were perpetually screaming and howling; some of their ears were reportedly even bleeding. They were running mad, whining and cowering in terror, fleeing to dark corners with their tails between their legs.
I was only seven then. Rutty was just three. Sissy was six. But I remember it all.
In the sixteen years since then, they laid waste to pretty much everything, except the Blockades of course. Oh, they knew where we all were, and they didn’t like it when we ventured out, for any reason. They got especially hot if they saw any of us heading in any direction that even remotely resembled going toward a coastline. No matter the continent, they wanted us pigeonholed far inland. We could never figure out why. Some straggled around by day still, but all we knew concretely was that they mostly reappeared every evening, near dusk. Where they all largely disappeared to during the day no one ever really knew. Apparently, they didn’t like sunlight, and they would almost entirely vanish for a month on end during the summertime when it got into the high eighties and nineties. Those were our reprieves. It was times like that that we actually praised all the ozoners that went before us: inconsiderate humans with their carbon emissions, fossil fuels, aerosols and CFCs; they didn’t know it, but they were actually helping us. Warming up the planet. Making the atmosphere hotter and hotter: more inhospitable to not just us, but them as well. I heard recently that a team of guys actually wrangled a gorgon in the heat of summer, while wearing some kind of protective eye shields, and they stripped it down: it just flailed, writhed, and screamed as it baked in the hot summer sun. Sizzled and smoked even. Apparently, they had some vampiric traits too. Never found out any more about it because you can’t trust all stories, and I for one don’t plan to wrangle any gorgon to see if it tries to suck blood too.
I remember the first time I saw one for myself. Back then they weren’t really evil to behold; they just had this sort of ethereal quality to them, angelic almost, and they just sat there and hummed. Floated. We tried to make contact with them, of course; but they never moved. For two months they just stayed there, as more and more of them slowly floated down. Taking up positions. We all got uneasy, of course, because what the hell were they? Why were they here? Where did they come from? What did they want? All those questions piling up stunk more than The Mound, frankly.
But then, we got our answers, sure enough. Whether through some kind of telepathy, or some primitive form of timing, they all began to move. One by one, they clicked on, like a countdown had finished or a switch had been flipped.
And that’s when they started hunting us down. Nothing we did mattered. Hiding was of little use. Shooting at them only made them move angrier, and they’d get faster. And that high-pitched shriek and dropped jaw thing. Lord. I remember a man kept shooting and shooting at one perched on the corner of a pretty tall building – I think he had a sniper rifle – but with each shot the gorgon hurtled downward faster and faster, until both it and the man disappeared in a thunderous cataclysm of concrete and dust. The gorgon was the only one that came out of that pit, a little fatter than it had been before it smashed down.
There were thousands of them in the air, swooping in all directions. Airplanes were overwhelmed and thrown out of the sky. It was pandemonium to the power of frenzy, to the power of chaos. The earth was upended on that day, and in the days following. The military had no time to mobilize… these things were everywhere: those poor souls who had to man helicopter gunships: they didn’t stand a chance. And then the news once reported that a swarm of them passed – passed, mind you – an F-35 jet on patrol. Frozen pilots plunged into the sea…the ground…the history books. All our hopes went up in blazes of glory. There were so many jets and commercial airliners at the bottom of the ocean now.
Each nation responded in whatever way they felt they should. There was no consensus in the United Nations, because there was never time or safety in order to mobilize a gathering: and many world leaders were already filling the bellies of the gorgons anyway. North Korea shot missiles in vain; thankfully, their nukes were intercepted before they killed us all while trying to mount a meager but impotent counterattack. Iran was the same.
The saddest part of it was the Gaza war just a few years prior. The Israelis and Palestinians had never quite afforded each other full truce; they would throw one another at a gorgon if it meant they would escape with their lives. Traps were set by one side or the other to lure in gorgons and devour whole households of their enemies. Despicable. Same with Ukraine and Russia. People desperate to sabotage their fellow humans just to get a few paces ahead. But the gorgons were faster than all of us.
The subject of nukes was never off the table… there was just no one who could get them mobilized, and where were they even supposed to detonate one? The chances of the entire human race getting wiped out by friendly fire were all too high.
Everyone everywhere was impacted. Every nation had thousands of them flying around. Those that could shelter in place could find out a little bit here and there on the news, but eventually there was no central news, and nothing to find out what was happening at other outposts. No CNN, no MSNBC, no news sites…I mean, they were there, but none of them were updated. VPN’s hosted phantom sites that were frozen in time years back with no updated content. Their content and IT departments had been eaten.
The gorgons just caught, froze, and ate us, one by one. Rinse and repeat, in a grisly shower of cataclysm.
In a few years, eighty-five percent of the world’s population was gone. The survivors lingered where they could, flitting from place to place, eking out a life of survival amidst the shadows. Since that time, the earth became a ghost town, abandoned, with overgrown ivy and out of control moss. Mildew and weeds. Vehicles everywhere, abandoned in mid-transit. Crashed airplanes. Trains off their tracks.
Animals roamed the streets freely after a while, escaping their enclosures. Most were picked off right there in their zoos. Even the king of the jungle was eviscerated by a single gorgon. Cheetahs couldn’t outrun them.
Sure, automated systems still ran: sprinklers, night lights, ac systems, etc. We still had power and utilities; just no humans to routinely man them, so, eventually, several systems failed. Fuel rods in some nuclear reactors, unattended to by human intervention, heated out of control; in some countries they failed, and the prevailing winds from radiation killed off many of the survivors over time as well. At least the radiation got some gorgons with that too, though.
Electricity went out over whole swaths of the earth for some survivors; then hypothermia and disease did the rest. We figured the gorgons killed off eighty percent of us almost straightaway; then, the ensuing natural calamities got another roughly five percent after that.
Someone was still creeping around and running things where and when they could. Independent heroes or troops ventured bravely into dangerous territory to keep things running, or to jumpstart failed hydroelectric, solar systems or power plants. Clandestine operations were springing up all the time all over the globe, desperate to keep us running.
Those with nursing or doctoral backgrounds stemmed the tide somewhat, but they had to learn fast. We weren’t lacking in medical supplies, as long as we could conduct a raid on a hospital or clinic; it was just ramping up quick education to those who could actually wield them.
But for the most part, it was like trying to pour a cup of cold water on a raging inferno. Eventually, we would lose. Earth became unoccupied and barren, a desolate wasteland of lifeless quiet and a graveyard of ominous vacancy – except for them.
Once a gorgon had you in their sights…you just froze. At first, we thought it was just out of primal fear or terror. But no: there was actually something emanating from them that paralyzed the viewer: at first, we thought it was some chemical agent, energy transference or something like that that seemed to be taking place. We had scientists working on it. That’s why we called them gorgons: the power they had to literally stick you to the ground right where you were, and you couldn’t move, and then they could float over and have their way with you, all the while whispering with that spine-chilling hiss: the sound of countless breaths of voices mingled together in wordless agony. I don’t know which is worse: knowing that you can’t run, or being eaten alive while you can’t even scream. I remember the little girl though: she was about my age, and I could tell she was crying while that gorgon ate her. She definitely felt it. All of it.
Sometimes they wouldn’t even need to paralyze you; they’d simply catch up with you, whisking behind you as you fled for your life: like me today just before the Blockade. They were just fast. Some people closed their eyes as they fought back, once we learned of their paralysis method. But that was pretty futile; you were just shadowboxing, swinging at nothing. One way or another, they would get you, and the best you could do was just to hide and ride it out and for God’s sake, be quiet. One of them was just as bad as a swarm of them.
The most unnerving thing? You just don’t think of humans as a food source. We have memories, souls, history, purpose. We aren’t just some wild gazelle or antelope out on the Serengeti: we aren’t just some prey. When you eat a human, you destroy purpose, memories, sanctity, and life. It was an abominable act. But of course, gorgons don’t know any of that. They’re just predators like any other shark or cheetah or hyena.
A gorgon was no respecter of persons.
I shivered and turned over, pulling a thin, ratty blanket up over me. It felt like a scratchy Brillo pad, but it was something, at least.
You know that point where your body craves sleep, and you know that you need it, but your eyes just won’t stay closed? Yeah. That’s where I was. For sixteen long years we’ve lived under the shadow of these things: wishing to high heaven that they’d just go, and hoping to hell that they wouldn’t find us out in the wild out there. Our world had been forever changed. My life had been forever changed.
I was one of the “lucky” ones who happened to be born at the right time in history so as to witness all of this, to live it out, and to have to accept it as just how life was. The ones who came after me – and there weren’t many, because why would you? – would never know what it was like to see them all drift down out of the sky. To hear them all suddenly start to move into action as if a switch had flipped: it was the switch that was labeled “annihilation of man.” To actually watch one of them eating one of us whole. To hear that bone-chilling slimy hiss. You don’t ever forget that sound. These babies were lucky enough to be born inside the Blockade, and to be kept far in, near the center, away from the threat that for them lingered only on the edge of legends and myth. But if they could sleep in peace because of our tireless labor? Fine with me. Ignorance is truly bliss.
However, it wasn’t a myth for me.
Losing my family wasn’t a myth.
That cat today wasn’t a myth.
The amulet wasn’t a myth.
The amulet – even now I wondered what they were doing with it…but more so I wondered what it would do for us. What would Stoney do with it? Where were the rest of them? What would the Beast reveal? It was unearthly, to be sure, and they had found a few of them before, but only recently had scientists discovered that they arrived at the same time the gorgons did. There had to be some kind of tie-in. At least, that’s what we all seemed to now be pinning our hopes to.
With these and a million more questions pouring through my mind, somehow, I was able to fall asleep, though I don’t know when, as it was pretty fitful. The room hummed with an unearthly rigor, the sound of countless engines throbbing throughout the Blockade. I was uneasy.
There was no way we were going to make it. That was our reality.
About the Author
Aaron Ryan lives in Washington with his wife and two sons, along with Macy
the dog, Winston the cat, and Merry & Pippin, the finches.
He is the author of the “Dissonance” series, several business
books on multimedia production penned under a pseudonym, as well as a
previous fictional novel, “The Omega Room.”
When he was in second grade, he was tasked with writing a creative
assignment: a fictional book. And thus, “The Electric Boy”
was born: a simple novella full of intrigue, fantasy, and 7-year-old wits
that electrified Aaron’s desire to write. From that point
forward, Aaron evolved into a creative soul that desired to create.
He enjoys the arts, media, music, performing, poetry, and being a
daddy. In his lifetime he has been an author, voiceover artist,
wedding videographer, stage performer, musician, producer, rock/pop artist,
executive assistant, service manager, paperboy, CSR, poet, tech support,
worship leader, and more. The diversity of his life experiences gives
him a unique approach to business, life, ministry, faith, and
entertainment.
Aaron’s favorite author by far is J.R.R. Tolkien, but he also enjoys
Suzanne Collins, James S.A. Corey, Marie Lu, Madeleine L’Engle, C.S.
Lewis, and Stephen King.
Aaron has always had a passion for storytelling.
Aaron is the admin of the Authors & Writers Only group on
Facebook.
All Laura Fitzpatrick wanted to do was tell her lab partner, Maddie, how she really feels about her, but when a perfect opportunity falls into her lap, Laura does what she does best – chickens out.
Then, Laura is dared to check out the abandoned carnival grounds outside of town, and she seizes the opportunity to prove to herself and others that she can be brave after all. To her surprise, Maddie isn’t about to let her go alone.
As they explore the eerie property, they’re thrust into an endless night of terror, where danger lurks around every corner. With a century-old mystery waiting to be uncovered, Laura must learn what true bravery means if she hopes to get herself – and Maddie – out of the Plum Creek Carnival alive.
Whatever you do, don’t let the Carnival Man see you…
What started as a date turned into a nightmare for Laura and Maddie. I loved see Laura find her strength and realize she was braver than she’d thought. Her courage was inspirational.
I dislike spoilers so I won’t go into detail. However… Carousel kept me spellbound from start to finish. I can’t exactly call the storytelling of a gruesome horror beautifully written but… it was. The imagery of each brutal killing and the emotions of the characters brought this story to life.
Truly exceptional! This is a must-read for horror fans,
**DISLCAIMER: I am voluntarily leaving a review after receiving an ARC. The review above is only my opinion.**
“Aidan, man, we should probably get going soon,” Jeff says, pulling me away from the threatening spiral of memories. His interruption is a welcome distraction.
“You’re right,” Aidan says, his eyes locked with mine. “But before we go, Quinn, you need to know, you’re not safe here. Do you have somewhere else to go?”
“What are you talking about?” My head volleys back and forth between the guys. Jeff runs a hand through his short brown hair and exhales a sigh. He leans in conspiratorially and says in a hushed voice, “Look, we’ve been checking out the unoccupied homes around here. You know, just borrowing things to help us get by. But one of the trailers we went to, we thought it was empty…”
Aidan finishes for him. “Quinn, one of your neighbors is dead. We thought the trailer was vacant, so we went inside. We grabbed some canned food and other stuff from the kitchen and then we went to the bedroom to see if there were any blankets and pillows.”
Tag-teaming again, Jeff continues. “We thought the smell was some food rotting. But… we found her just lying there on the bed, lifeless. Looked like she was stabbed. There was blood on the sheets and blanket.” He pauses momentarily before breaking the silence. “We would have helped her if we could, but she was gone.”
I raise a hand to cover my gaping mouth. The scream I heard the other night. That must have been it. Why didn’t I think to go see what was happening? Maybe I could have helped her. Maybe I could have stopped it.
“Guys, which trailer? Where did you see this?” I don’t know many of the permanent residents, and if it was someone who is only here for vacations, there’s no chance I know her.
Aidan steps to the edge of the porch and points, “Two homes down in that direction. The one with the wishing well in the front yard.” I wrap my arms around myself to contain the shiver running through me. The guys exchange a look and I know what’s coming next.
“Look, we gotta go,” Aidan says. “How about we check on you tomorrow? Would that be okay? Just make sure you’re alright.” Before I can filter my thoughts, they escape my lips. “That would be really nice. Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Okay,” Jeff says, nodding. The guys eye each other, silently communicating. They hesitate for just a moment and then Aidan speaks again. “Quinn, just keep a low profile, okay? Try to keep yourself hidden. We’ll come back tomorrow night after it gets dark and we can talk more then.”
“Okay,” I say. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or, today I guess.” The guys watch me head inside the trailer. I lock the door and peer out the window, watching them leave. I barely know them, but I sense they’re like me and Riley—good people trying to navigate their way through a bad situation.
As I tiptoe back to the bedroom and settle under the covers, I vow to tell Riley everything. She deserves to know we could be in danger here and she needs to meet Aidan and Jeff. Maybe they are our ticket out of here.
Author Bio:
A. E. Faulkner was born and raised in Pennsylvania. When she’s not lost in a book, she loves spending time with her husband and two sons, especially while hiking, biking, or exploring nature. She loves almost everything about nature—ticks excluded, and one of her biggest fears is the repercussions we will face when nature can no longer tolerate human destruction. As such, she never tires of reading dystopian-themed tales. Stories about the end of the world absolutely fascinate her.
First they came for his sister’s eye. Now they’re coming for
his. And what’s even worse is he deserves it.
Henry has never had anything good happen to him, period. Full stop.
That’s why, after school, he’s going to put on his big-boy pants
and confess his love to his best friend—because the universe owes him
one, dammit, and he needs a win.
But maybe doing it on Drill Day wasn’t the best idea—the one day a
month that healthcare conglomerate Axiom infiltrates schools across America
to select a new candidate to give up one of their eyes, for… research? And
if this Drill Day is anything like the last, Henry will never get a chance
at a good life. Especially if his past keeps threatening to eat him alive,
and especially if his old ways of keeping the darkness at bay refuse to work
anymore.
About the Author
Jeffrey Haskey-Valerius works in healthcare by day and writes weird fiction
and poetry by night. His shorter work has been featured in numerous literary
journals and has been nominated for prizes, including Best of the Net. He
currently lives in the Midwest with his unbelievably handsome and perfect
dog, and also a human whom he loves. The Cyclopes’ Eye is his debut
novel.
The Omega Archives: Escalation Erik Melendez Publication date: January 31st 2024 Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult
Alex Connors returns for a new mission in The Omega Archives: Escalation. But this time, he must take on the most dangerous man in the world: Axel. A super soldier with years of combat experience, Axel is seemingly one step ahead of Alex in every way. What Alex thought would be a breeze turns out to be anything but. He’s still fighting the brainwashing from his training in the Omega Project, which prevents him from feeling fully human. Alex must figure out a way to outsmart and stop Axel . . . without losing what’s left of his humanity.
We sprinted after the last guy who was running through the desert area. My heart pounded as I sprinted after the guy. All I could think about was tackling this guy to the ground and beating the shit out of him. The field seemed like an endless desert of sand and dried-out plants. The last guy made a hard turn into what looked like a cave entrance. The entrance hand a big concrete shaft leading inside with black water pouring out of it. We stopped and shined our flashlights into the cave, but saw nothing. Barns and I went inside. It was dark and smelled like a port-a-potty that hadn’t been cleaned in years; we heard rats squeaking and the echoes of water dripping in the distance. Being in there made my stomach feel like it was going to blow up and I felt like I would never eat again. We walked on until we arrived at a very large room. I went in, and the gate slammed shut behind me. The slamming echoed throughout the room and it froze my heart.
I turned and ran towards the gate. “Hey let me out!” I said. I tried pulling on the bars and kicking the gate down, but it was too strong. “Come on, let me out!”
I tried contacting Max on my radio. “Max, do you copy?” I asked.
“Alex… can you hear…” Max said. My radio went static.
“Long live the Union,” Barnes said as he backed off and sunk into the darkness of the cave. My heart dropped into my stomach as he backed off.
“Long live the Union, indeed!” Another man said in a British accent.
Some lights flashed behind me. I slowly turned around.
it was Axel.
“Alex Connors, we meet at last,” he said in a soft voice as he took a few steps towards me. “I have been looking forward to this for so long.”
A wave of anxiety hit me like a truck. He was a lot bigger in person, but not too big just big enough to pose a threat. I couldn’t take my attention off of how much bigger he was in person.
All around was rock and water. I could hear water flowing nearby only to pour out into a drain. I immediately pulled out my rifle and aimed it at him, ready to shoot as that feeling in my stomach came back.
“Please put down the weapons. You can’t kill all of us,” Axel said.
I looked up, and saw the next level up; a large group of Axels’ men were armed with machine guns and assault rifles. My entire body was covered with laser sight dots like a Christmas tree. My heart froze up as I pictured myself getting blown away.
“They all have armor-piercing bullets, and clear shots,” Axel said.
I put down my rifle, pistol, and knife. The clank of my rifle and pistol hitting the ground echoed in the room. I stood there feeling naked as I took some breaths, trying to calm myself down.
“So you’re Axel? What do you want?”
“Ah, straight to business huh?” he said, smiling.
“You know I have orders to bring you in, right?” I said.
Axel walked closer to me, seeming to grow bigger with each step. “Oh, I am aware of your mission, indeed,” he said “You think I don’t know you, Alex? I’ve been watching you for some time now,” he said while still speaking in his soft voice.
I started to sweat. I wiped my head while I tried to process my thoughts. I continued to try and get my mind off my feelings as I focused on Axel.
“Yeah. Well, to me, you are just another terrorist on some kind of mission. An anarchist,” I said as Axel laughed.
“Ah, so young and still so much to learn. I have been doing this far longer then you have,” he said.
“Age does have its advantages,” I said.
“As well as its disadvantages,” Axel replied.
“Why did you attack the Pentagon?” I asked as I walked closer to him.
Axel started to walk to me. “Easy. I needed to draw attention.”
“By killing innocent people?”
“Ha! Just another stereotypical word: Innocent. Please, Alex, those people were just expendable assets, just like everyone else.”
“We will see about that,” I said as I walked towards him.
At that moment, all I thought about was beating Axel to a pulp. I ran up to him and struck at him with all the strength I had. His steel-like body just absorbed the strikes, taking little to no damage whatsoever. I threw another right hook. He blocked it and threw an uppercut elbow to my face, knocking me back, then a spin kick to my chest, kicking me into a pile of bricks. I felt like someone had hit my solar plexus with a sledgehammer as I tried to breathe. All I could think about was the pain as I lay there like I was a plant being eaten by rodents. I rubbed my jaw, trying to ease the pain, and my body was covered in sweat and dust. The Mercenaries just stood by and watched.
“Your confidence has gotten the best of you. You have been fighting so much of these mere humans that you believe yourself to be unstoppable. You proclaim that you are a super-soldier. But really you are just a boy,” he said.
As I laid there, feeling like my body was crushed by a wrecking ball, I kept thinking about my training. I could still hear the trainer shouting at me to control my emotions. I closed my eyes and breathed, trying to get my mind off of my feelings.
“I’ve beaten people like you before,” I said as I got up slowly, trying to fight through the pain.
I did a spin kick to his face with Axel leaning back, slightly dodging it. I then did a spin side kick to him, with him blocking it, followed by a spin jump kick to his chest, which seemingly did nothing to him. I threw more hooks to his face with every bit of strength I had. When I went to throw the third, he grabbed my fist and started squeezing it like an empty Coke can; several snapping sounds emerged from my hand. I could feel the bones in my fist being slowly crushed like wood, and it was all I could focus on. I screamed in pain as I slowly dropped to my knees. I tried to break his grip, but it was as strong as steel. My right hand was practically destroyed.
“All this strength and no coordination. You are truly an amateur,” he said as he pushed me to the ground. He then did a powerful bottom fist strike to my back, which felt like being hit by a pipe wrench.
I took another breath, trying not to explode with anger so I don’t throw up, then got up and went to do another spinning jump kick. While I was in mid-air, Axel punched me directly in the solar plexus, knocking me down. All the air was knocked out of me again, and I could barely breathe. He then picked me up and threw me into a wall. A bang followed as I hit the floor. My body felt like all the bones were broken into bits, and I could not get up. My mind was glued to the pain as it settled. As I lay there, Axel walked up and crouched next to me.
“I understand what you are going through. You’ve spent half of your life training, and now you are split. Every day you contend with adapting to human life. These humans have corrupted your mind, but I can help you. I can save you from them. Please let me help you,” he said. His voice was pretty calm and soothing for a terrorist.
I slowly picked myself up, feeling like my body was going to break into pieces at any second. My arms felt like they were weighed down by trucks, and my chest weighed a ton. I gripped my broken wrist as I tried to find my balance.
“I don’t need your help!” I said, standing ready.
“Very well then,” he said as he did a spinning heel kick to my face, knocking me out. From there it was just blackness and nothing.
Author Bio:
Erik Melendez is a young adult novelist, graduated from t Henry Ford College, and martial arts enthusiast. He holds a black belt in Kung Fu and is skilled in firearms and other weaponry. In high school, he worked his way up to a cadet lieutenant junior grade for the NJROTC program, where he participated on the drill team, physical fitness team, and academic team. An avid fan of Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who, Erik gleans plenty of inspiration for writing action-packed sci-fi stories. He is the author of The Omega Archives and lives in Livonia, Michigan.
This suspenseful queer YA romance from critically acclaimed author K. Ancrum reimagines the tale of Icarus as a star-crossed love story between a young art thief and the son of the man he’s been stealing from.
Icarus
by K. Ancrum
Genre: YA LGBTQ Contemporary Romance
Perfect for fans of Adam Silvera and Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, this suspenseful queer YA romance from critically acclaimed author K. Ancrum reimagines the tale of Icarus as a star-crossed love story between a young art thief and the son of the man he’s been stealing from—think Portrait of a Thief for YA readers.
Icarus Gallagher is a thief. He steals priceless art and replaces it with his father’s impeccable forgeries. For years, one man—the wealthy Mr. Black—has been their target in revenge for his role in the death of Icarus’s mother. To keep their secret, Icarus adheres to his own strict rules to keep people, and feelings, at bay: Don’t let anyone close. Don’t let anyone touch you. And, above all, don’t get caught.
Until one night, he does. Not by Mr. Black but by his mysterious son, Helios, now living under house arrest in the Black mansion. Instead of turning Icarus in, Helios bargains for something even more dangerous—a friendship that breaks every single one of Icarus’s rules.
As reluctance and distrust become closeness and something more, they uncover the gilded cage that has trapped both their families for years. One Icarus is determined to escape. But his father’s thirst for revenge shows no sign of fading, and soon it may force Icarus to choose: the escape he’s dreamed of, or the boy he’s come to love. Reaching for both could be his greatest triumph—or it could be his downfall.
K. Ancrum is an author of award winning contemporary YA notably THE WICKER KING, DARLING and most recently the triple starred ICARUS. K. is a Chicago native passionate about diversity and representation in young adult fiction. She currently writes most of her work in the lush gardens of the Chicago Art Institute.
A Strange Affinity Rebecca Rook Publication date: March 26th 2024 Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult
A Strange Affinity is a hypnotizing cross between the television show Deadwood and Tamora Pierce’s renowned Tortall Universe. This young adult fantasy novel, set in an alternate nineteenth century American Wild West, will appeal to fans of Vengeance Road and Retribution Rails by Erin Bowman, Revenge and the Wild by Michelle Modesto, and Upright Women Wanted by Sarah Gailey.
In the Wild West, magic is real.
When two strangers arrive in her small town, Gloriana Rue learns that she has the magical ability, or Affinity, to manipulate metal. She also learns that her mother was a renowned magical scholar but had abandoned the world of Affinities. Glory is desperate to know why her mother hid her past, and so agrees to attend an academy for magicians in the hopes of finding answers.
Glory is soon immersed in magic and mystery when she stumbles upon a disturbing discovery: A killer is hunting magicians throughout the American West – and he’s getting closer. Only by seeking out her mother’s secrets can she stop him and save her newfound family.
The space was outfitted as a smith’s shop, furnished with a long workbench, a wall hung with gently worn but serviceable tools, and a small, portable blacksmith’s forge. She was awkward with many of the tools at first but grew better and more proficient by the day. Glory worked long into the evenings, well past the end of her classes. She came to love the feeling of being surrounded by scraps of different metals: gold, silver, copper, and iron. It felt like being surrounded by friends, or family. It was hard for Glory to describe but she felt that each metal had a different personality.
Glory thrived under Jacinda’s tutelage. She went on to master a series of ever-challenging tasks she had set before her: Molding new shapes, melding metals together, and extracting the elements. Soon each new task seemed easier than the last.
In a recent conversation, Jacinda had warned Glory these new skills were among the easiest for a magician. True transformation of physical properties was much harder, and in some cases, impossible without several years of further study.
“Lead to gold?” Glory had asked, skepticism and humor in her voice. She remembered reading such silly tales among her father’s library.
Jacinda had chuckled. “Not quite. You’re bound by the chemical properties of the source material. But with study and practice, who knows what’s possible? The magical properties of metal are vastly understudied and largely composed of myths and legends about alchemy. And because there are so few metal magicians, we still don’t know what they — you — are capable of.”
Author Bio:
Rebecca Rook designs tabletop games, manages a little free library dedicated to sequential art and comics, and lives in the Pacific Northwest with two wonderful dogs. She writes young adult fiction in the fantasy, thriller, and horror genres.
A 2021-2022 Hugo House Fellow in
Seattle, WA, she also attended the 2021 Tin House YA Fiction Workshop in
Portland, OR. Rebecca was selected as one of the 100 invited writers to participate in the Write Team Mentorship Program’s curated Pitch-a-Thon event before being chosen as a Mentee for the 2021 Program. Prior to this, she completed the wonderful Yearlong Workshop for Young Adult and Middle Grade Fiction at Hugo House.
False Haven Rebecca Rook Publication date: February 13th 2024 Genres: Horror, Young Adult
False Haven is a young adult horror novel for fans of Anna Dressed in Blood by Kendare Blake, Asylum by Madeleine Roux, and Fiendish by Brenna Yovanoff.
Seventeen-year-old Vivienne Barston’s life has fallen apart.
With her mother recently dead, her father disappears into his grief – leaving Viv to deal with her sadness and anger alone. Viv turns to destructive behaviors like petty vandalism, but after a disturbing stint in a juvenile detention center frightens her, Viv agrees to a court mandated service opportunity designed to expunge her record. The deal: work for six weeks with a trail conservation crew in the rural woods of southern Oregon, and she’ll be free with a clean slate.
She knows it’s her last chance to fix her life.
When Viv arrives at the small town of Hard Luck, Oregon, she meets her motley crewmates, all with troubles of their own. The unusual group travels to Grafton Stake, a remote and derelict former asylum with a haunted history–and now Viv must face the ghosts of the past while fighting for her future.
Don’t miss this inventive horror novel where Holes meets The Haunting of Hill House!
They were all large, dressed in furs, leathers, and thick boots. The men had thick beards and braids; the women either wore braids or had shorn hair. All of them wore armor of some kind, with runic designs upon their crests. Ghost green flames danced and kissed across their skin. As Valentine watched, she saw that their skin flickered and faded in the moonlight, alternately translucent and opaque. During the translucent phases, she saw their skeletons underneath.
She shivered.
Then, beyond the Huntsmen, she saw the mounts.
They were stunning.
Each horse shimmered, dressed in golds and silvers, blues and violets, coppers and moonlight. They were enormous, with hooves the size of dinner plates and lush manes that draped across the starlit skin. Valentine watched as they huffed, stamped their feet, and half-reared. They were ready, she could tell. They wanted to hunt, to chase.
She heard Malcolm’s prosaic voice in her head. Choose the smallest mount.
Valentine scanned the herd. There.
The smallest mount glowed like a golden fire in the moonlight, with a silver mane. Compared to the others, this one was dainty, almost delicate. Valentine cast a quick glance at the Huntsmen, then started forward, crouching low to avoid notice. As she moved forward, she draped the bridle over her shoulder, then pulled out the packet of frankincense and myrrh. She poured it into her hands, then crept forward. She stopped before the golden creature, a good six feet away. Though this mount was smaller than the others, it was by no means tiny.
When Valentine stilled, the horse raised her head.
What do you want, mortal? The voice sounded like a crack of lightning in her head. The eyes glowed with violet flame.
Author Bio:
Rebecca Rook designs tabletop games, manages a little free library dedicated to sequential art and comics, and lives in the Pacific Northwest with two wonderful dogs. She writes young adult fiction in the fantasy, thriller, and horror genres.
A 2021-2022 Hugo House Fellow in
Seattle, WA, she also attended the 2021 Tin House YA Fiction Workshop in
Portland, OR. Rebecca was selected as one of the 100 invited writers to participate in the Write Team Mentorship Program’s curated Pitch-a-Thon event before being chosen as a Mentee for the 2021 Program. Prior to this, she completed the wonderful Yearlong Workshop for Young Adult and Middle Grade Fiction at Hugo House.
Bride of the Mountain King Misty Malkasian (Kings of Starfall, #1) Publication date: March 29th 2024 Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult
She must wed a powerful ally to save her kingdom. But a terrifying ghost king steals her instead.
Princess Liosa keeps half of her face hidden under a curtain of hair. She must wed to save her kingdom from the looming threat of attack by the Rose Court, but if a future husband ever found out the truth of her face, she could lose both her kingdom and her life.
But on the day she’s supposed to choose from a room full of suitors, a terrifying king arises from underground and steals her away to the Hollow Deep—and he may be worse than all the other suitors combined. He may not even be alive.
Liosa, now a queen of a strange kingdom she’d never known existed, must navigate its perils as she struggles with her terrifying new surroundings and marriage. Unsure of herself and petrified beyond what she’d ever imagined, she grapples with the same question she’s asked herself her whole life: why has the Great One chosen to inflict so much suffering on her? Hasn’t she suffered enough?
As she finds herself drawn deeper into her husband’s world, she learns of deadly goings-on in the Hollow Deep, plans that could set into motion a chain of cataclysmic events in Starfall. She must decide if she wants to remain terrified and useless, or if perhaps the Great One brought her to the Hollow Deep for a reason after all.
She only wonders—why did the Mountain King choose her? And can she ever love a creature made of mist?
With a new take on fae fantasy and an undercurrent of faith, Kings of Starfall is a connected series of clean standalone romances with their own happily-ever-after, leading up to a single cataclysmic event that must be stopped before the entire world falls to ruin.
Perfect for fans of Beauty and the Beast and Sylvia Mercedes’ The Moonfire Bride, prepare to be swept into the dark and glittering world of Starfall…
I grew up reading during all my classes instead of paying attention. I read anything I could find, including the backs of shampoo bottles (there’s some fun stuff written on those!). At twelve I started writing my own stories, and as an adult, I still haven’t been able to kick the habit.
I live in the Midwest with my husband and two little girls, and by day, I test financial software and write code.
Check out my website for all kinds of cool things, including my newsletter, which you can sign up for to receive early news and cover reveals for my upcoming books. You can also get in on future giveaways! Visit https://www.mistymalkasian.com
