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M. Timothy Murray has a new space opera out: Time Paradox. And there’s a giveaway!

The time crew are unexpectedly thrust six hundred years into Thumar’s past, where a planet wide plague is raging. These intrepid time travelers are predestined to find a cure. When they return to the future, they discover their actions dramatically changed their original timeline.

With help from Derak’s brother and the mysterious Time Sentinels of the universe, they set out across time, space, and dimension to fix their time paradox. Can they stop the space-time-continuum from tearing itself apart and destroying the known universe?

| Amazon | iUniverse |

Giveaway

Timothy is giving away an Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47189/?

Excerpt

Prologue

The large scorpion centered in a barbed circle glowed blood red on the back wall of the Supreme Council chamber. Imbedded computer screens illuminated the ominous faces of the council members. A single blinding white spotlight in front of the raised curved dais focused on the poor soul being interrogated in the center of the darkened room.

Number Three continued. “Commander Thompson, are you telling us this is all you found? What good are you and your men if this is all you return with? You’re useless, we can assign you a more appropriate mission.”

Charlie Thompson served the council for over two hundred years. He was their best assassin. He could infiltrate any government, corporation, or secured site, until now. This perplexed Charlie and infuriated the council which never accepted failure at any level.

“Number Three,” he choked out. “We exhausted all our resources and tortured everyone who had momentary contact with Derak Jamar. His immediate and extended family disappeared. Their files are closed. Not even our highly placed mole had the security clearance to view Jamar’s files. It’s as if his entire history never existed.”

Number Two addressed the commander. “What about his friend, Jack Morgan, and his family? We can get to him that way.”

“They disappeared too. Their files have the same security clearance. Our mole informed me she couldn’t spy any further without risking her cover.”

“Then what use do we have for this worthless slug?” Number Three demanded.

“None, Sir. She and her entire family met a slow, painful end, one of my more creative works of art. I brought her deputy into the fold with a little persuasion. He should prove more useful,” commander Thompson reported.

“Let’s hope so, for your sake, Commander,” Number Two threatened.

Number One spoke. “Commander, did you bring back any useful information?”

“Yes, Number One. There are three intergalactic corporations that have equal security measures. They have Derak Jamar’s fingerprints all over them. He is a dangerous enemy; it is reported he single-handedly took out a battalion of Kek in the Chambar Valley Offensive. It is rumored that Master Li trained him.”

“That traitor!” Number One exploded. “I have a special death reserved for him. We must tread cautiously with these two. Find a hole in Jamar’s security. Don’t fail us this time, Commander. Dismissed!”

The commander left the dreaded chambers and made his way to April’s Pleasure Palace. Maybe he could catch up with his buddy, Dr. Vander.

After the chamber doors closed behind the commander, Number One went off. “Is that what we’re down to? Pansies and cowards who have forgotten all the good we’ve done for them? I’ll show them all! Number Nine, make sure the commander’s wife dies in premature childbirth, along with the child. That will send the proper message.”

“Isn’t that extreme, Number One? He has served us…”

“Number Nine! Would you like to keep your seat?”

“Yes, Number One,” he choked out. “I’ll see to the arrangements.”

“If the known galaxy doesn’t want to acknowledge our honorable intentions and peaceful salutations, we must give them something to pay attention to. Our goal is the same, a unified galaxy ruled by our values of fairness and judgment. Who could ask for a better arrangement?”

The Planetary Survey

Derak commanded the planetary survey mission, Jack was the pilot. Shesain, Shenar, Dr. Bundett, Thumar’s leading herbal doctor, and Seamus McGrew, a planetary geologist from Earth, rounded out the crew. Jack laid in the course to the first set of coordinates.

While on the flight controls under Jack’s watchful eye, Shesain became curious about a section he had not taught her. “What does this do?” she asked, pointing to a yellow touch pad with a warning light flashing red.

“Don’t touch that.” Jack said. Damn techs were supposed to disengage that time-control panel before we left. Why is it still on? “That’s part of the time travel circuit.”

Before Jack could reach the control to disable it, Shesain’s hand slid in the direction of the yellow touch pad. Derak moved to stop her, but her fingers brushed the pad. Everyone in the ship froze. Derak, in mid-stride, felt queasy.  As the crew recovered, Derak’s momentum carried him forward, and he touched the pad before hitting the floor hard. He got up and removed Shesain from the pilot’s seat. Jack took the science station.

“What did I do?” Shesain asked in shock.

“I don’t know yet!” Derak growled.

The indicator upon entering hyperspace is a clockwise swirling of stars in an inverted cone shape. This tells the Captain and navigator that they entered an artificially created wormhole. The wormhole they entered rotated counterclockwise.

“What did I do?” Shesain asked. Her voice quivered.

“I don’t know yet. I have to check the navigation computer,” Derak answered, in a consoling tone this time.

“Jack, what are you seeing?”

“The readings are crazy! Wait, the chronometer is running backwards! We’re going back in time, and I don’t know how far.”

“Is the ship recording this? We’ll need the data to return,” Derak said.

“From the start,” Jack responded.

“We should stop soon,” Derak said.

They watched in horror as the cone of earth and sky rotated counterclockwise. It slowed down, and the crew went through the same transitional sensations as they had in the beginning. When they entered normal space again, they held their breath as they hovered over a similar, yet unfamiliar feeling landscape.

“Put her in D-gen, Jack, we don’t want to be seen. We must not cause a time paradox. There is no way to know how this will affect the future we originated from, or the present timeline.” Derak ordered.

“D-gen activated. We should land and access the situation.”

“Excellent idea, Jack. Set her down in a concealed area.”

Jack landed The Shesain in a well-protected meadow outside a sizable village and shut down the engines. They all breathed a sigh of relief. Jack and Derak turned to Shesain sitting in a corner hiding her head.

“I told you NOT to touch that pad!” Jack yelled at Shesain.

“I…I…didn’t mean to. It…it…was an accident,” she answered, breaking down into tears.

Derak stopped Jack before he could go any further. He sat down next to Shesain and put his arm around her as she buried her head into his shoulder. “My dear, Chimera, when a flight instructor tells you no, they mean it.”

Derak turned towards the others. “We need to know how far back we travelled.” He lifted Shesain’s chin; smiled and kissed her. She wiped her eyes and sniffled before looking up at the others. “Shesain, you and Shenar look up the histories while Jack and I figure out how far back in time we traveled. Seamus and Dr. Bundett help the girls out, will you?” They nodded and led Shenar and Shesain to the computer station.

Jack and Derak looked at each other and shook their heads. After consulting the ship’s chronometer and computer, they time-traveled back to the year 1814.

Author Bio

Tim lives in Nevada City, California, with his wife, Ronna Lee Joseph, and their scrappy cat, Harley. He is involved with several writers groups.

Besides documenting the adventures of Thumar, he writes short stories about talking animals and rude Christmas trees.

Where to Find M. Timothy Murray

| Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads |

J. Scott Coatsworth’s MM “elf-meets-trans-man in post-climate-change San Francisco” book Cailleadhama is now out in audiobook format. And there’s a giveaway!

Colton is a trans man living in a climate-changed world. He plies the canals that used to be city streets, earning a living taking tourists on illicit journeys through San Francisco’s flooded edges beneath the imposing bulk of the Wall.

Tris is an elf who comes through the veil to the City by the Bay – the Caille – on a coming of age pilgrimage called the Cailleadhama. He is searching for his brother Laris, who went missing after crossing through the Caille years before.

The two men find they have common cause, and together they set off to find Laris in a world transformed by the twin forces of greed and climate change. And in the end, they find out more than they ever expected, both about the warming world and their own selves.

| Audible Audiobook | Amazon Kindle EBook Amazon Paperback |

Giveaway

Scott is giving away your choice of a $20 Amazon Gift Certificate or a signed first edition of the Liminal Sky: Ariadne Cycle Trilogy (USA only). Enter via Rafflecopter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47179/?

Excerpt

Audio Excerpt:

Text Excerpt:

Colton sat at the old, salvaged mirror in his wreck of an apartment, high above the Main Street Canal on San Francisco’s drowned waterfront. Not that San Francisco didn’t have its pride. As the Capital of Pacifica, she was still a center of commerce and politics.

But canal rats like Colton didn’t matter much anymore.

The bed behind him, salvaged from another abandoned apartment, was a mess of sheets, a reminder of the trick he’d brought home the night before, someone who’d been paid enough to overlook Colton’s shortcomings.

Colton took out a vial of testosterone—his last one, bought at a dear price from the Pharmacist. He pulled out a clean syringe and took off the plastic top, pulling out the stopper to 5 milliliters. He inserted the needle into the bottle, and pushed the air in, an act familiar to him from long practice. Then he pulled out the last of the drug, flicking the syringe twice and pushing out all the air bubbles.

He replaced the needle with a smaller gauge, dumping the larger one into an old caramel corn can he kept for his medical waste.

He used a piece of cotton and a bottle of cheap liquor to wipe down the injection site on his thigh, sterilizing it as best he could. Once it was dry, he took a deep breath, pinching his muscle and pulling his skin to the side. He inserted the needle into his leg, drawing the syringe back a bit to make sure there was no blood. He had to be careful to avoid injecting the hormone directly into his bloodstream.

It hurt a little, but he was used to it.

He dumped the used syringe and the empty vial into the can. He had friends who weren’t so careful to use clean needles, for their hormones or recreational drugs. Some of those friends were now dead, or worse.

Next, he took the medical bandages that he carefully washed every day, and wrapped them around his chest, binding his breasts tightly.

He didn’t look at them. He hated those reminders of his female body—he’d been running from that accident of birth for years.

He wrapped the bandages around himself three or four times, holding in his breath. Once he had his breasts secured, he adjusted them to the side to make his chest as flat as possible.

He looked at the results in the mirror. It would have to do.

He wished he could afford to be re-sequenced. To truly make his body match his gender, to not feel counterfeit in his own form.

Colton glanced out through the broken window. The lights of the City were starting to come on over there as dusk approached. He lived in a no man’s land, the part of the City where the water encroaching from the Bay had reached the old first and second floors. Toward the heart of the City, on the other side of the Wall, the rich still carried on as if nothing had changed.

Those with money called the drowned parts of the city the Canal District. It ran from the old Levis Plaza down to China Basin along the City’s Bay side. There were a number of tony restaurants on the roofs and higher floors of the City behind the Wall that offered views of this supposedly “romantic” neighborhood. For a fee, you could even take a ride through the ruins on a gondola.

That was Colton’s “day job”. It brought in enough money to afford food, hormones, and little else, at least, when he was able to pay Mason his overdue boat storage fees.

So at night, he haunted the drowned streets, looking for those he could help, or sometimes relieve of their excess cash.

Author Bio

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is a full member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Where to Find J. Scott Coatsworth

| Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads |
| QueeRomance Ink | Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com) | Amazon |

Leigh Jarrett has a new MM fantasy romance out: Age of Mycea. And there’s a giveaway!

The Marjar attack on Mycea sets in motion a series of changes in the ruling structure of the empire that will forever impact the lives of three powerful men. King Meshia, supreme ruler of the empire, Sebastian of Cardin, Commander of the Third Empirical battalion, and Sebastian’s Cardinian lover, a gifted healer beyond any that have come before him.

King Meshia has a secret, one that might lose him his crown. One that would certainly diminish his capacity to rule and lead the empire’s forces into battle. One night of unbridled passion, one weakness, one longing that could bring the monarchy to its knees.

Sebastian of Cardin, Commander of the Third Empirical Battalion knows that love comes in many forms. He lives it, he breathes it. He is unapologetic. The military and his home in the Entertainment District in the Neter Colony on Mycea suit every aspect of his life.

Leo of Cardin, a conjuring Cardinian, an anomaly of nature. Skilled in his craft. A force to be reckoned with in his own right. His relationship with Sebastian does not define every aspect of his life. He too has a secret, his family heritage placing him in a position of incredible power.

Their world in turmoil, they will be called upon to embrace the love in their lives and abandon their long-held prejudices against one another in order to preserve the survival of their people.

| Amazon |

Giveaway

Leigh is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47176/?

Excerpt

They were all going to die. As soon as the morning sun rose over the tundra, their few remaining troops would be wiped out. They were surrounded. Permitted one final night.

Sebastian trudged through the offering of fresh snow, his chest tightening, his breath billowing clouds of mist before his eyes. The snow’s arrival had warmed the frigid air somewhat.

His men were suffering.

Early spring on Kronos was not for the weak-hearted. Any season would test the hardiest of those who found themselves there. The third planet from Mycea had five seasons ranging from sweltering heat to bone-chilling drops in temperature few could survive. The five seasons coinciding with the animals and fauna that could be hunted and gathered during those times.

Fortunately, spring had brought them an abundance of game to feed themselves. Early spring had not been as kind. They had lost dozens of men to hypothermia and starvation.

With one of Kronos’ moons reflecting off the fresh snow, it was light enough to see, but the Marjar would bide their time until morning. They had been trying to take control of Kronos for months. What was one more night? Sebastian looked out over the undulating, treeless hills of white. The ore-rich mining planet was desolate but had a haunting beauty to it.

Perhaps death would be as peaceful.

Sebastian nodded to the guards, their sheathed swords likely chipped and grubby with blood. They would not be granted a reprieve to tend to them tonight.

The king deserved one last night of peace.

The flap of the canvas tent was stiff from the cold but folded back enough to allow Sebastian access. It fell into place behind him, containing what little heat was being offered by the oil lamps scattered about the interior.

He had been summoned here tonight.

His heart thundered heavy and rapid in his chest at the reason why.

It all started the day he stepped off a warship at the Neter colony, the heart of the empire, eight years ago. The respect—the mutual admiration. The stern face that had simply cocked one eyebrow upon seeing Sebastian for the first time.

Blood, glory, and conquest; eight years of battles had been fought by his side.

He was not there to talk.

Sebastian stepped forward into the tent and bowed deeply to the man watching him. “Your Majesty, you summoned me.”

“This is the end for us, I fear.” The king shifted in his seat and motioned to the chair across from him. As always, there was kindness in his brilliant green eyes, a kindness that rarely reached the other features of his face. Firm jaw jutted, his lips were drawn tight, his breathing steady.

“Have we no options?” Sebastian settled into the seat across from his king, accepting the cup of wine offered him.

“You know we don’t.” The king rose to his feet, circled around to Sebastian’s side of the table, and laid his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “That’s not why you’re here.”

Sebastian placed his hand atop the king’s. “I know.”

The king leaned down and kissed the side of Sebastian’s neck, his warm breath drifting seductively across Sebastian’s skin. It made its way to his lips. Sebastian breathed it in.

“Tonight, I need to know what I’ve denied myself of for so long.”

Sebastian wrapped his hand around the back of the king’s neck, drawing him closer, the king’s short-cropped, blond hair bristling against his palm.

“Meshia …” A simple whisper of desire. The fires that had been burning for years between them would be quenched this night.

And tomorrow, they would die.

Author Bio

Leigh Jarrett is an unabashedly queer, quirky, and passionate author of LGBTQ+ Romantic Fiction, her books embracing the full spectrum of the rainbow. Her published contemporary works include gritty and angst-filled romances featuring Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, and Lesbian characters. And her fantasy series, “Drakkar Coven”, which is brimming with lust driven vampires, werewolves, and shapeshifters.

Having been bullied as a child for being “different,” writing, and publishing LGBTQ+ Romantic Fiction has given Leigh an opportunity to express her uniqueness, inspired by the LGBTQ+ community she calls home, her books highlighting their struggles, while celebrating their diversity, and affirming their most basic of human rights … to love and be loved.

In her hometown of Victoria, BC, in Canada, Leigh can be found nestled up with her fabulously supportive wife and her trusty laptop, or enjoying the wonderous outdoors that is Vancouver Island.

Where to Find Leigh Jarrett

| Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) |
| Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon |

Vampires and werewolves live long lives. The Sleepless City saga might have ended but the story continues…

Welcome to The Vampire Guard, where legend and myth meet science and technology.

Vampires make the best spies. Throw a smart-mouthed werewolf in with three vampires, mix well, and The Vampire Guard’s newest team is bound to become one of their greatest assets. Super spies with a full range of skills. Warrior, hacker, thief, and scientist.  They get in, do the job and get out before the bad guys ever know what hit them.

Forge, Blair, Declan, and Lucas are thrust into the world of high-tech spies and top-secret espionage conspiracies. Recruited into the world’s most elite and secret organization with one singular mission. Protect those who can’t defend themselves from ruin.

Life becomes complicated when an impending Presidential visit to their town, Boggslake, throws them headlong into the world of the vampires and werewolves of the Vampire Guard. Very quickly they uncover and confront a werewolf terrorist organization known as the Qiguan.

Together they must thwart an assassination attempt on the open waters of Lake Superior while tracking a previously unknown biological weapon controlled by the Qiguan—a weapon which may very well mean death for one of them.

Buy Links

| Amazon US | Amazon UK |

Excerpt

Forge sighed. One step at a time.

After Sellers left his office, Forge leaned back in his chair, pulled out his phone, and sent Blair a text. “Which do you like better, yellow gold, white gold or platinum?”

Blair’s text response was simply, “Huh?” His emotional response was similar. Thanks to their soulbond, even though they were separated by a little more than mile, they felt each other’s emotions almost to the point of mind reading.

Blair was amused. Forge was not.

“And what’s your ring size?” Forge picked up his coffee mug.

“For my finger or my cock? ’Cause if it’s for my cock, duh, extra-large!” Blair added a string of jumping emoticons at the end of the message.

Forge choked on the coffee and coughed. People outside his office turned and looked at him. “Went down wrong.” He thumped his chest with his fist and coughed again. He typed “FINGER” on his phone and hit send.

A second later Blair’s text came back with “Aww, you’re such a romantic. You wanna kiss me, you wanna marry me. Smooth talker.” Blair must have felt Forge’s annoyance since that message was followed with “I don’t know. Why?”

“Dinner with the president.”

Blair’s text read “Be nice.” While his shock washed over Forge.

Forge stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He liked platinum. Blair would have to deal with it. He swung his chair around and looked out the window. The president would be in Boggslake just before July Fourth, Independence Day. The man, his family and his security would likely be in the same room with Blair, who had amazing cyber-hacking skills, though he taught others how to protect against such things. Declan, who could pick every pocket in the room clean within minutes, and Lucas, who when he drank too much tended to let his inner wolf out.

Too bad vampires weren’t affected by alcohol. Forge could have used a shot and a beer—or five—about now. It had to be five o’clock somewhere in the world. He’d have to settle for another bagel and more coffee. He’d need it. Forge sighed as he took another glance out the window at the sky before pushing out of his chair and leaving the office. Was it too much to ask that the aliens show up to take over the world now? He heaved a sigh. There was nothing but a few wispy clouds and sunshine. Not an alien invasion in sight.

Giveaway

Author Bio

Mystery, action, chills, and thrills spiced with romance and desire. ELIZABETH NOBLE lives by the adage “I can’t not write.” She doesn’t remember a time when she didn’t make up stories and eventually she learned how to put words on a page. Those words turned into books and fan fiction that turned into a genuine love of M/M fiction. A part of every day is spent living in worlds she created that are filled with intrigue and espionage. She has a real love for a good mystery complete with murder and twisty plots as well as all things sci-fi, futuristic, and supernatural.

When she’s not chronicling the adventures of her many characters, Elizabeth is a veterinary nurse living in her native Cleveland, Ohio. She has three grown children and now happily shares her little, brick house with a spunky Cardigan Welsh Corgi and his sidekick, tabby cat. Elizabeth is a fan of baseball, basketball (go Cavs and Cleveland Baseball) and gardening. She can often be found working in her ‘outside office’ listening to classic rock and plotter her next novel waiting for it to be dark enough to gaze at the stars.

Elizabeth has received a number of amateur writing awards. Since being published, several of her novels have received Honorable Mentions in the Rainbow Awards. Jewel Cave was a runner-up in the Gay Mystery/Thriller category in the 2015 Rainbow Awards. Ringed Love was a winner in the Gay Fantasy Romance category of the 2016 Rainbow Awards.

Where to Find Elizabeth Noble

| Website | Email | Newsletter | Circles | Vampire Guard | JMS Books | Amazon | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Autor Page) | Facebook Group | Facebook The Sleepless City Group | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | QueeRomance Ink | Liminal Fiction | Gay Romance Readers Club | BookBub |

Jeanne Marcella has stopped by the Land of Make Believe to celebrate her new MM/MMF dark-fantasy release . She explains a very unique way that mail is delivered in her world (you REALLY need to read it, you won’t be sorry.) And she is having a giveaway!

Welcome, Jeanne!

Jeanne Marcella has a new MM/MMF dark fantasy out: Through Rain and Missing Mantaurs. And there’s a giveaway!

Her past is postage due and centaurs are ready to collect.

Through Rain and Missing Mantaurs is a dark fantasy most daring and eccentric. A tale not for the faint of heart. Pony is a bipedal half-breed centaur with no desire to waste tears on a past she can’t remember. She’s busy enough with her mail routes and package deliveries, and of course, floundering through hot-cold love affairs with the high class courtesans Mardyth and Lullaby.

The mundane drudgery of her life shatters when Konstantine Bywater takes over as Lightfoot Delivery’s new boss. He asks questions she can’t possibly answer, and stirs up a tragic past better left dead and buried.

But running away is no longer an option. Not when Kon and his minions accuse Mardyth of an unspeakable crime. With her lover’s life at stake, Pony won’t stop until she uncovers not only the truth of Mardyth’s innocence, but the truth of the past as well.

Giveaway

Jeanne is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47167/?

The Curious Case of How Mail Works in My Fantasy World – by Jeanne Marcella

Ah, worldbuilding. Mail is no exception in a society. In my gritty dark fantasy, Through Rain and Missing Mantaurs, or TRAMM as I call it, the world of Nura is certainly different.

Got a nice big package to mail? Find yourself a mail company, make an appointment and interview them. If you like how they do things, start up an account. Go home with a bunch of stamps and permission notes. Slap those stickers on that box and abandon it on a shelf in your front yard. Deal done.

Or if you’re lazy, shove that box out on your mailing shelf with the shipping information and be billed by the first mail carrier who happens on by. (Employers often give nice bonuses to carriers for finding packages to ship.)

But Jeanne, you say, don’t packages get stolen?? Yeah, sure, there’s always a chance of that, but the chances are so low, it’s practically nil. Why? Well, two reasons. For one, it’s just the way things have always been done. The societies and cultures in my worlds aren’t perfect, but thievery isn’t much of a problem, especially in the confines of civilization. It’s just the nature of the beast. Those who are caught are folded into society through mentorships or work programs for the good of the community. A well-run community means more profits and prosperity. Jails, prisons, and police controllers are there for the more violent crimes and patrolling for dangerous Elementals, but I’m getting off topic.

That second reason? No one wants to get gutted and left on the street. You see, mail couriers, at least the civilian-run companies, are a collection of ex-bandits from outside the cities, ex-military, and those who’ve lived on the streets. Burn-outs and screw ups, nearly all of them. If a mail courier catches someone stealing mail meant for their company, you’re likely going to end up dead or gushing blood out in the street. That includes rival couriers horning in on another mail company’s established routes. And it’ll be your own fault. As Pony says in the novel, mail couriers are very protective of their routes and customers. It’s their livelihood after all. It’s not unusual at all to look out your window and see two mail couriers hissing and spitting at each other like alley cats, scrapping out on the street.

Civilian couriers see mail through from start to finish. That is, if mail is sent to another city, it’s delivered by a single person, all the way through the line.

There are also military mail couriers in my story universe, that run very similar to the post offices here in our world. Mail has always fascinated me, and it’s such a fun subject. I can’t wait to explore more of it beyond the Elemental Rain trilogy. Who knows, maybe Pony won’t be the only main character mail courier in town!

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Saddle-sweating, horse-humping, gods-cursed bastards! The rumors were true. Shit! Bad luck must be in love with me or something. Maybe it could give Mardyth lessons.

Arms pumping high and heart hammering in her parched throat, Pony pushed to reach her top speed. The rumble of centaur hooves behind her vibrated both earth and air. She absorbed those rumbling shock waves into her svelte, bipedal runner’s body. And knew her two human legs—versus their four equine ones—would not be enough.

Still, she would try.

The sweltering heat weighed heavy. Her ratty brown and tan courier’s tunic clung like a starving tick. Rocks and pebbles further split the threadbare soles of her worn-out boots as she pounded down the rutted road. She grimaced at the sweaty slap of calloused arches sliding around in rotted footwear that could fall apart any day now.

Pony squinted at the onslaught of bright blue sky. Her brain cooked in its own juices as the summer sun withered the forest corridor. Her brown hair slipped from its limp topknot; stray strands plastered her sunburned cheeks. It was almost too hot to breathe. Too dry to live. And the damn fools giving chase wanted to die of heatstroke right alongside her.

As it always did in situations like these, Callum’s unfavorable input surfaced to harass her. Stupid, gods-damned centaurs—worthless scraps of horsemeat to toss to the dogs. Her former guardian’s mantra, though crude and offensive, might hold slivers of truth. It was most certainly stupid to be running full-out in this blistering heat. At any other time, she might’ve been curious about this, her first ever centaur encounter.

Just to say she’d finally met one.

Give a lecture about overexertion in extreme weather.

Maybe engage in some harmless flirting.

To finally decide, once and for all, that Callum was right about them.

Or wrong.

But not when this chase proved that they were hunting for courier blood.

Any courier’s blood.

Keep running. Don’t look back.

She looked back.

Six tall shapes, the merging of man and equine. Hooves kicking up clouds of rising dust. The whip of long, flashing manes. The distance between them shrank with each passing second.

Her mail satchel, empty except for the meager bait of Escape Plan Number Two, bounced against her spine. Slung across her chest and anchored into the strap of her mailbag, a dozen small throwing blades awaited use. The large knife hanging at her hip, anchored at her thigh, allowed slight consolation.

Escape Plan Number One took the form of the few coins she couldn’t spare; the bits of metal jingled in her trouser pocket, muffled by a scrap of cloth.

Your job is to run, but hold strength in reserve. Callum’s voice echoed in the back of her mind. If cornered, kill without hesitation or remorse.

Okay. Good advice. She was good at running. That was all she ever did.

Pony crushed dry cracked lips between her teeth. Escape Plan Number One never failed. But would this tactic work on centaurs?

Wait. She had to revise that. Would Escape Plan Number One work on murderous, marauding centaurs who’d probably noticed she was a half-breed suffering through the last few days of her estrus?

If Callum were alive, he would’ve wagered against her.

Might as well give the plan a go, Horsemeat.

She sensed the distance closing between them. Imagined their hot breath blowing down the back of her neck. Their tall, bizarre forms hovering over her. Their hands tearing at her tunic to confirm the hidden tail braided and wrapped around her waist like a belt…

Pony shook off the terror. No time to panic.

Dipping into her trouser pocket, she pulled out several bronze skull coins and flung them over her shoulder. It was back to rummaging through garbage cans when she got home. The currency thudded along the highway and pinged off rocks. On her old southern routes, tossing money always worked with the undesirables skulking around looking for a mark.

The thundering sound of hooves sped up and deepened. Pony ground her teeth. All right, so they weren’t after money. Not typical highwaymen then. Why couldn’t they be greedy bastards like everyone else?

Escape Plan Number Two.

Reaching into the mailbag, Pony pulled out the four carrots she’d pilfered from the company stables. She glanced at the vegetables, shrugged, and took a bite out of one. Then she proceeded to fling the orange darlings over her shoulder in two-second intervals.

High-pitched squeals of disgust and indignation answered.

Oh well. It’d been worth the try. Maybe they weren’t all animal after all. Or maybe centaurs were fussy eaters. Maybe she should’ve grabbed a salt brick instead. Then she could’ve brained them with it.

Escape Plan Number Three then.

The road continued to bend, the thick forest jutting into her direct line of sight. She darted for the ferns and scrub brush. Towering pines blotted out some of the sun’s glare—for a few seconds she was running blind.

Two centaurs armed with longbows jumped out in front of her. The younger one took aim at her heart.

Horseshit! She was speedy, but not quick enough to outrun a flying projectile. Gulping, she dropped into a slide, feet first. Gravel tore open her calloused palms and ripped holes into the back of her trousers.

Great. Bleeding in several places, and now she had clothes to repair. “Arggh!” She slammed slick fists to the ground. “What’s wrong with you swag-bellied tail-waggers? You’d shoot one of your own?”

Author Bio

Jeanne Marcella writes dramatic, and often character driven fantasy fiction not for the faint of heart. Quests, adventure, danger, and the grit of living are foremost, but relationships and mild romance might also share the pages.

Granted unlimited access to books at a very early age via the library, she quickly acquired a fondness for creating her own stories through word and drawing. She was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Where to find Jeanne Marcella

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Today we welcome Aurora Lee Thornton to the Land of Make Believe, who’s stopped by for a chat about xyr journey as a writer, xyr characters in xyr new release, All or None, and a peek into xyr fridge… because why not? 😉

AQG: When did you know you wanted to write, and when did you discover that you were good at it?

ALT: I didn’t know I wanted to write as like, a career until middle school – which is also when I found out I was good at it, ha ha. I had been writing long before then, it just never occurred to me that I was a writer until one of my English teachers had me join the school’s team for a state writing competition called Power of the Pen. I ended up placing in the top 50 in the state, so that was pretty encouraging. And the year after that, I think, I placed second nationally in the Scholastics Arts and Writing Awards so I thought, “hey, I’m probably pretty good at this.”

AQG: If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

ALT: You were not ready to send out query letters just because publishers told you they like Scholastics winners. I still have these handwritten query letters (with responses) from when I was in middle school/ just starting high school because I find them hilarious now.

AQG: Tell us something we don’t know about your heroes. What makes them tick?

ALT: Roy has such a hard time with book learning because he has ADHD and dyslexia. I kind of allude to the dyslexia, but he doesn’t really have the language to explain or know that he has ADHD.

It doesn’t come up much in the story, and due to soulmates being a thing there’s no real lexicon for queer identities in the world, but Kalo is demisexual. I plan to explore this (and some other aspec characters!) more in-depth in later books, but for now it’s just word of god.

AQG: Who has been your favorite character to write and why?

ALT: Hult, no question. She was never actually supposed to graduate from entitled bully, but ended up taking on a life of her own as the story unfolded. Now I couldn’t see the story without her quips and lovably violent nature. Honestly, she’s just one of my favorite characters period.

AQG: What qualities do you and your characters share? How much are you like them, or how different are they from you?

ALT: Most my characters get something from me – Kalo ends up as a writer, for example. Roy got a little bit more than most though – he’s actually named for me!

He was only supposed to be a secondary character in what is now the second book in the series, and sometimes I am lazy in naming minor characters by rearranging the syllables in my name and giving them a little flourish. So that was where I got the name ‘Royiora’.

Other than that Roy and I also share a love of the theater and both have ADHD.

AQG: What’s in your fridge right now?

ALT: A lot of beer. It’s not even that I drink a lot – actually, it’s the opposite! I’m a lightweight, and I get mix-and-match six-packs to try them, and then I don’t. So they kind of just… accumulate, oops.

In a world where everyone has a soulmate, uniquely powerful mage Royiora and reluctant assassin Kalo collide in the worst of ways.

Royiora Daralkaen, the only mage alive able to use all five kinds of magic, has a near idyllic childhood in the country of Porescalia – before war breaks out with their antagonistic neighbors, Kloria.

Kalo Porla, a naturally magic-proof individual known as a Null, is trained to be as an assassin by the authoritarian empire known as the Domain.

When Kalo and his partner assassin are sent to kill a mage and his apprentice, it starts a journey neither man was prepared to begin.

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Excerpt

Is this our destination? Roy considered, but chose to wait to find out.

His assumption turned out to be correct, as Kalo sighed in relief when he saw it, leading the way right to the door and knocking.

A woman of Kalo’s race answered it, even with the same red skin and gray hair. She laughed and pulled his soulmate into a hug when she saw him, before pulling back and flicking his ear with something even Roy recognized as an admonishment.

The assassin replied something tiredly, walking past the woman with the slight limp he’d had for the past week or so.

Then she turned to the mage, and in perfect Porescalian said, “And you must be my brother’s soulmate. Hello, I’m Rela.”

Roy flinched in surprise, then cleared his throat and shook the proffered hand, “Yes, uh… I’m Royiora.”

“Do you shorten it?” Rela asked, ushering him inside, “I read most Porescalian men do.”

“Um, yes,” the Porescalian man replied, “I usually go by Roy.”

The horned woman nodded, half pushing him past high vaulted halls into another room, “You must be freezing – come on, let’s get you something warm to drink. I’m sure you have plenty of questions Kalo couldn’t answer.”

Roy didn’t get a word in until after Rela had taken the borrowed coat and replaced it with a surprisingly warm blanket, sitting him at a table in what appeared to be a study or classroom with the promised hot drink.

“There are warmth runes inside the stuffing,” someone said, and then a strange looking man with six arms and blue skin hung down from the ceiling. Unlike Rela and Kalo, he had purple glowing eyes, and held out one of his arms, “Hello, I’m Xia – Rela’s one of my soulmates, and this is our home.”

“Uh, hello,” the mage said, shaking as he looked up at the rest of the man’s insectoid body clinging to the ceiling, “I’m… Roy.”

“Nice to meet you, Roy,” Xia said, skittering over a bit to lower himself to the ground, “Rela and I took the trouble of learning your language some time ago, as our other two soulmates appear to be Porescalian as well.”

“And Kalo asked me to translate his soul writing when we were kids,” Rela said, sitting across from Roy, “He was so very excited to meet you, you know. Though, judging by the state of the two of you, I’m guessing it wasn’t under happy circumstances.”

“Not… exactly, no,” Roy said, feeling comfortably warm for the first time in a while. He took a sip of the drink – it was oddly nutty, but enjoyable nonetheless, “Uh… what… is Kalo?”

Rela snorted, “A bit of a pain in the ass, honestly.”

Xia laughed, and went over to the chalkboard in the room. He cleared it with a bit of arcane magic, and started drawing, “Kalo is what we call a ‘null’ – magic doesn’t affect him, and he can absorb it to fuel pseudo-magic abilities of a limited range.”

The strange insect man pulled back to reveal the celestial star, with words written underneath each point.

“Divine magic gives him self-regenerative abilities and invisibility,” Xia said, pointing to Radzmia’s crystal throne, then moved on to Pelzz’s obelisk, “Arcane provides mental acuity and teleportation,” onto Ruelop’s spring, “Physical resistance and enhanced senses,” Guulruf’s nine-pointed star, “Physical strength and shadow walking,” and finally, Forea’s whirlpool, “And physical speed and water breathing.”

“They identified him and our cousin when they were five,” Rela said, smiling, “We were all so excited – the government provided us stipends for their education and care. Us, a little provincial family of no repute.”

“So it’s an…” Roy struggled to keep up as the warmth and stillness worked on relaxing him to the point of drowsiness.

“That’s what they told us,” the woman snorted, taking a drink, ears flicking, “But when they were twelve, they went to the Institute.”

“Where they train them to be tools of the Trinity,” Xia sighed, coming back to the table.

Kalo

“The… Trinity?” Roy asked.

“Our leaders, Frezians like Xia,” Rela supplied, then shook her head. She looked up at the mage, “Let me tell you about what happened to my brother.”

Kalo was so glad to finally lay down on a pad and sleep without worrying about being attacked. Rela had said she’d talk to Royiora, explain things, and he trusted her to do so.

His sister and Hult might be the only people he trusted anymore.

The null didn’t know how much time had passed before there was a gentle touch on his shoulder, and his soulmate saying his name softly.

Kalo sighed, forcing himself to sit up and turn to look at the mage.

Royiora frowned at him, then his eyes lit up gold and he hesitantly reached up and laid a hand on the null’s cheek.

The assassin understood, but still hesitated himself before kissing his soulmate. It wasn’t like the time when he’d had to stop Royiora from killing them both by causing a cave in – it was slow, deceptively intimate.

He only took enough to heal his current injuries before pulling back.

The mage was still frowning at him. Royiora’s gaze fell – to the arm which used to have Kalo’s soul writing on it.

The assassin sighed, and unwrapped it. What did you go and tell him, Rela?

Kalo held the arm out, rough, burnt skin obviously clear of writing on display.

His soulmate reached out hesitantly, gentle fingertips brushing over the scarred skin. Then he took a sudden breath, hand jerking back as if he were the one burned.

Kalo looked up to see the other man crying. He shook his head, reaching out without thought to cup his soulmate’s face and brush away the tears with his thumbs, “No, don’t – don’t cry over me. I don’t deserve that.”

Royiora stared up at him, and something like resolve seemed to enter his eyes. He pushed up, barely hesitating before kissing Kalo himself.

At first, the null didn’t know how to react. This wasn’t an exchange, it wasn’t necessary. It couldn’t be affection – so what was it?

And then Royiora’s hand brushed over his burns again, and it clicked – sympathy.

About the Author

Aurora is a nonbinary, asexual writer with a new goal in life: to write the queerest books possible. (And yes, xe means gay, but also weird is good too.)

Xe loves dragons and fantasy, and someday hopes to complete a (soft) science fiction novel as well. Currently, xe lives with xyr two cats.

Where to Find Aurora

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