Jul 8, 2014

Normal Writing Days in July


My “normal writing days for this month are Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

I’ll talk about Mondays and Thursdays some other time. Today is about what I do on what I call a normal day.

 

In general I have the ability to write from 8:30a- noon and then again from 2-4pm. So that’s five and a half hours of available writing time give or take depending on the day and other minor factors.

 

For June, my normal days consist of two goals: #1 Finish the current draft of Ray (Flynn book 3) and #2, Edit a completely separate novel.

 

For the first goal, I’ve got a quantifiable stopping point.  When dividing the words I have remaining, by the ‘normal writing days’ in July, I know that I only need to get 1200-words in each day to get it all done in a decent amount of time. So I give myself an hour and a half each day to complete that task. Somedays, that’s no problem at all. Other days… it can be trying.

 

Once I’ve completed my word count – or my time is up – I move on to the second goal. Goal #2’s progress is measured in chapters. For the remaining four hours of my writing day, I focus on my editing. I only need to get through three chapters a day to stay on target…. but if you saw the sheer amount of changes I’m making to this manuscript, you would understand why it is taking so very long.

Jul 2, 2014

Two Ways to Get Free Books (Giveaway)

 #1 (Paperback) - Giveaway time! (Closed)

Today through next Wednesday (July 9, 2014), I'll be collecting the names of anyone who's reviewed one of the Flynn novels, and putting them in a drawing to nab a signed paperback copy of  Windthrow.


Each review gets your name in the hat, and each book can have two reviews from around the web (amazon/blog/goodreads/fb/etc). So you're eligible for 6 entries.

Reviews written through July 9th are eligible. 

If you've reviewed on amazon or goodreads, I'll be able to find you pretty easy (unless your username is obscure) but if you're worried I've missed an entry, give me a shout via email. abkeuser [@] gmail [dot] com.

(Congrats to C. M. Keller who gets the free copy!)

#2 (Digital PDF) - Review Copies

The second way also involves reviews. You may have noticed the new tab at the top of the blog. There is a similar one over on the website.

If you click through and fill out the form, you'll be eligable to recieve a review copy of one of the books.

Please note, if you receive a review copy and never review the book, you'll be less likely to get a second. All reviews help other readers find books, even negative ones.

Jul 1, 2014

Windthrow - Available Today

The gorgeous cover art from Anthony Simms!
Windthrow is out and ready for you to read!

If you're subscribed to my newsletter, you already got the memo!

You can grab a print copy or kindle copy from Amazon


... but I'm still working out the kinks with Barnes & Nobel for Nook and with iBooks (sorry!)

For more fun info on the book itself, check out the page on my Website

And! Connie, author of the SCREWING UP TIME series, has an interview with me up on her blog today. You can check that out here.




Jun 30, 2014

Windthrow - Chapter One



Windthrow is out tomorrow! Read the first chapter now
ONE


Ash Larkwood shoved her way through the crowded station tubes over Quantilus. The planet was one big shipping hub; a ball of dirt surrounded by space stations and docking ports that fed off the planetary core below like a parasitic haze.
The orbital she frequented most often was old, a metal tube made from the hopes and dreams of a bygone era. It was an antique held together by spit, floss, and ever-seal. The people inhabiting it made the place a backward, circus-grade freak show.
Sell, trade, or stagnate. Those were the only options available for life on a Quantilus station. Which was exactly why Ash would never live here. She only catered to the whims of two station residents. That was her job.
A job she was currently behind on.
With no patience for the obnoxious caterwauling of store owners or their customers’ tendency to create traffic jams, she pushed her way through. Why they wanted to clog up the already claustrophobic tubes was beyond her.
When the way in front of her appeared to be impossible to pass, she took a calming breath, looking for any other option. Seeing none, she stepped up beside an angry looking man, waited for him to look the other way, and threw an elbow. She scampered to the side and slipped around the grunting man as he searched for who had jabbed him. He picked a fight with the most likely looking candidate.
It cleared the jam, and that was really all she cared about. 
That wasn’t strictly true. She cared about her job. She was damn good at her job. And if she didn’t find a replacement copilot for her next shipping run, she could kiss that job goodbye. If there was one thing she did not need right now, it was all the time in the world. And she couldn’t think about why. Not right now. If she started that train wreck of a thought process she’d end up crying and when she cried, people mistook her for a preteen who’d lost her mother. And no amount of swearing in Betulian would get them to believe otherwise.
She could have gotten a copilot with the snap of her fingers… a very dangerous snap.
The planet two hundred and thirty-six miles beneath her feet and its overabundance of satellites were teeming with rocket jockeys ready and willing to vault over one another to get into her copilot’s chair. She didn’t trust half of them behind the controls. Most of all, she didn’t want to be stuck on a ship with a stim junkie – or worse.
Ducking and weaving, she made her way through a corridor stuffed full of pedestrians weaving around shipments placed in the most inconvenient spaces possible. The outgoing shipments were good signs for the economy on the station. But the foot traffic was the worst she’d seen in her five years as a long-range freight hauler.
Worse still, people collected in noisy clumps, gathering to complain about the hold ups, not seeing the irony of their actions. She gritted her teeth against yelling at them to get out of her way.
“Breathe,” she reminded herself.
A verbal war in the middle of this muck would be worse than a full week’s detention for making a run alone. If she was pulled in by orbital cops, they’d want to know every nanosecond of her history, and then they’d try to convince her sleeping with them was the quickest way out of the clink. More like the quickest way to a case of Andovian herpes.
Ducking through another mob-like clot that was steadily forming, she shouldered past a group of teenyboppers. A girl in a zip-up turtleneck encrusted in rhinestones sneered at her as she passed. Rhinestones ran a hand over the bright blue stubble on her head as she moved to drape herself over her bestie.
The reason Ash knew the girl wasn’t Rhinestones’ girlfriend was due to the amount of attention the gangly young thing was paying to the third member of their party. Bestie, wearing an itty bitty skirt and a foot-high mohawk that wobbled in the re-circulated air, only had eyes for the beautiful dark skinned boy in front of her. He barely acknowleged her as mohawk girl talked emphatically and fingered his tightly laced bustier. Bubblegum sprouted in a pink sphere from the boy’s deep purple lips, his lipstick leaving dark veins in the rubbery skin of his bubble.
Ash took them in and shook her head, biting her tongue to keep from snorting. Trends hit  main hubs like this one weekly. They were like cultural seizures.
Growing up on a quiet planet, well off the normally charted routes, Ash had never had the chance to fall victim to them. Having recently endured her twenty-eighth birthday, she figured she was safe from the fickle masses. With a backward glance, she hoped to the great Dragod she was immune.
Her birthday. She swallowed hard as the memory hit her, heavy as the pull of planetary gravity.
Clenching her fists, she let her nails bite into the skin of her palms. She laughed to keep from crying, and the sound burned in her throat. A man with a scar over his eye looked at her sideways, and when he went back to the deal he’d been trying to broker, she knew he kept tabs on her.
Getting noticed was a quick way to get killed on some stations. Here… well, she’d guess he was more afraid of her than she was of him. Slipping around another set of fashion freaks, she focused on what was here and now. The pathetic farce that was her birthday and the three days after, turned the irritation of the station around her into a welcome distraction.
Escaping the crowded corridors, she stepped into the bar that was the closest thing to a second home she’d find this side of the Gobuchul Gap and felt instantly better. Some long gone proprietor had started the gin joint when the orbital had opened to the public, and everyone after had kept the name he’d given it. It was too appropriate to consider changing.
Air Pollution, filled with smoke and the screeching static that echoed from speakers embedded in the ceiling, it was also filled with patrons. Good booze, a well maintained robotic wait-staff, and no-questions asked service meant it attracted all sorts. Herself included.
Along the bar she could make out one group of newcomers among a handful of men she’d seen before. The regulars – or at least regular enough to notice – sat staring at their drinks, content to keep to themselves. The same could not be said of the four newbies.
Three were dumpy slobs who looked like they’d just come off a long haul, they laughed too loud and drank too fast, hunkered down on their barstools. It was the fourth one who drew her attention, but not in the way he probably would have liked.
Her skin positively crawled as he swept a possessive glance over her. Detaching from his small group of friends, he started toward her.
With her fight or flight instincts kicking her squarely in the gut, she swallowed the queasy feeling in her stomach and purposefully turned away from him. The shock of blond hair and the shit-sure grin on his face reminded her too much of Coedi. No man who resembled her bastard ex would ever see her smile again.
It wasn’t fair. She knew that. But it was fact, and she’d learned to accept those quickly.
Cutting sideways, Ash moved quickly away from the long purple and chrome bar top and cast her eyes about, looking for any sign of the man she was here to meet.
In the end, all she caught was a glimpse of a hand, its black nail polish and silver birdskull ring were enough of an ID as he took a blue beer from one of the robotic waiters. She slipped into the booth in the corner as the man from the bar stepped to the place she’d last stopped.
Across the table from her, a small man waited in the shadows, the lights glinting off the metal studs in his jacket and ears.
Mezzik barely glanced up from the tablet in his hand, giving her a full view of his spiked platinum hair. “You’re late.”
He leveled a knowing smirk on her before he returned his attention at the tablet, tapping out a string of commands.
“I had some issues.”
She turned to cast a cold glance at the man from the bar. He’d finally found her again and was making his way toward them. Luckily, he took the hint. His jaw jutted to the side as he scowled. Turning on his boot heel, he headed back to the bar and his raucous companions. Ash let out a relieved sigh before turning to face her booking agent.
“You got my message?” she asked, finally feeling like she could breathe – in spite of the smoky air.
Shoving the tablet into his jacket’s inside pocket, Mezzik straightened and leaned both arms on the table, leveling his gaze at her, his mouth an unreadable line.
She paused, eyes tracing over his face. If one knew where to look, it was easy to see the familial resemblance. They had the same almond eyes and the same olivine complexion. But Mezzik’s dyed, platinum gray hair and the long, curving tattoo over his left eyebrow made it clear that they ran in different crowds.
Her eyes were normal, boring brown. Her cousin’s were an eerie hazel. That color, an oddity gifted to him by a distant relation on his father’s side, when coupled with his hair choice made him look somehow…wrong. It drove his mother crazy.
Ash kind of liked it.
“I always get your messages, Cuz. And I want you to know I’ve always thought Coedi was a bastard.” He said it straight faced and business like. A side of his personality he rarely used with her.
“I know. You said as much… often.” And she wondered why she never listened.
“It’s proof – one of the many instances, I might add – that you should take my advice as law.”
Ash met his stare. “I am not getting your company logo tattooed on my forehead.”
A wide grin broke across his face. “I only suggested that once. I was drunk. And it was a joke.”
She snorted before she could stop herself. “You practically dragged me into a shop.”
“I only wanted to see how far you’d go.” He winked at her, crossing his leather clad arms over his chest. “You know how I get.”
She shrugged, waving her hand in the air as if she could bat away the notion with a flick of her wrist. “Whatever. Point is Coedi and I are done. I hope I never see his lying face again.”
Mezzik nodded, his voice slipping into a mockery of the regulation board’s monthly video reminders. “A copilot is required to conform to the shipping laws and regulations for a flight lasting more than a standard two hours.”
“I had to lie to the woman in the port authority. Told her I’d made the short hop from Horos. She didn’t believe me for a second, but she let me through.”
“It’s the family charm. I’m telling you, Ash. Even your ugly brother could turn half the people on this station to jelly with a look.” His gaze traced over the crowded bar. “We are so very lucky.”
Curiosity gripped her and she leaned over the table, both elbows on its surface. “Which one’s the ugly one?”
Beeping softly, a server deposited a coaster on the table in front of her, distracting Mezzik from answering.
Her cousin smiled wolfishly and nodded to the robotic server as it placed the vibrant pink drink in front of her. “I took the liberty of ordering you a Cape Nowhere.”
“My mother is going to kill you for turning me into a degenerate.” Ash pulled the sugary beverage to her lips and sipped a long sweet draught.
Leaning back in his chair, Mezzik focused his smile on the ceiling. “You know June’s my favorite aunt.”
“She’s your only aunt.” Mezzik was the only member of the family who avoided her mother like the plague. “And you think she’s too clingy.”
“You know me so well,” Mezzik said. “That’s why you’re my favorite cousin.”
“Blatant lie.” Rolling her eyes, she took another long swig of the Cape Nowhere before setting it down and stretching out her neck.
“Not true. None of my other cousins make me any money.” He thumbed his nose and pulled out the tablet that held all of his shipping manifests and pilot routes. He was nothing if not determined to keep his operation running smoothly. “You’re ready to ship out then?”
“You know I’m not. I need that copilot. I’m amazed I made it all the way here without getting stopped. You know how ridiculous the shipping lanes can be.”
“The Gevalt run isn’t in a standard shipping lane.” He pursed his lips together, and she knew he was fighting back a smile. Why, she couldn’t fathom
“All the more reason why I need a copilot. I’ve been stopped more on that desolate spaceway than I’ve ever been stopped in the heavy traffic zones. And spanning that much dead space alone gives me the squicks.”
“Just because those ‘trollers are bored.” Mezzik turned the glass in his hand, sliding a streak of condensation across the table top. “You know I would never send you out there on your own.” He glared pointedly at the news screen on the far wall. The flickering images, barely visible through the smoke, did not bode well for the tenuous peace in their corner of the Kratos.
Ash watched the media footage, chewing on the inside of her lip. Two Kratos soldiers held up the skeletal fore-claw of a xy. Shivering despite the warmth of the bar, she watched the muted newsreel of the latest victory over the alien race that wanted to wipe humanity from existence.
“You know,” Mezzik said with a sigh that brought her back to the present, “I always wonder if somewhere on the other side of the territory line there’s a pair of xy civilians watching their news and thinking we want to rid the universe of them.”
Turning back to her cousin, she shrugged, her eyes focused on the pink liquid in her glass. “They exaggerate to keep you watching.”
“Sure they do, but there’s always a vein of truth to it. The xy are out there in the black. I don’t want you going out alone. I know you and Suma rigged up that ship to do some pretty amazing things, but let’s face it. You against those alien bastards is not a scenario I want to play out in my head.” Mezzik took a long drink of his beer. “Besides, June would kill me with her bare hands if I let something happen to you.”
“Yeah, which is why I need to get a copilot.”
Mezzik finished his beer and ordered another with a swipe of his card. “Finding a copilot isn’t going to be tough. Any ol’ pilot can do the job.”
“I don’t want any ol’ pilot. If that was all I was looking for, I’d be down at the labor office pulling a name out of a hat. For that matter, I could do the run by myself… if my pseudo-copilot was stim patches.”
“You’re not turning into a stim junkie just to get your haul to Betee on time, she’d come after me before your mother had a chance.”
Mezzek stared at her for a moment, as if daring her to deny that. She couldn’t and wouldn’t.
 Satisfied with something she couldn’t fathom, he smiled and slid his tablet in front of her. “What about this ol’ pilot?”
Ash finished her drink as she read through the man’s qualifications. The actions became habit after the first column of stats. Randall Fife was the sort of pilot who could take any posting he wanted if he set himself up with the labor board. What was he doing slumming for a trip on her ship?
She set the empty glass on the table and finally looked back up, glaring at her cousin. “This guy sounds too good to be true. And why do I suddenly feel like you were luring me to this conclusion all along.”
“Probably because I was.” He took a long sip of his new blue beer and set it down with a heavy sigh. “Had a client looking for immediate departure. Told him you were my next out. But due to employment differences, you’d lost your copilot.”
Rolling her eyes, Ash slid the tablet back to him. “Thanks for that little fib.”
“Isn’t that what family’s for? If I can’t tell a nice white lie every now and then, what’s the point? Anyway, he tells me he can take the guy’s place, doesn’t want to cut the pay, he just needs to get to Gevalt quick.”
She should have laughed. That sort of request was so stupid it was funny. “There’s no such thing as getting to Gevalt quick.”
“Yeah, well, you do it in a decent amount of time, so I would just take the money, take the passenger, the cargo, and run.”
“How much money?”
“A million creds before my usual cut.”
Ash swallowed hard. Half of that would be eaten up in fuel costs on a normal run, but her fuel cost was already paid for by the shipment to Betee’s mine. With that much extra cash, she’d be able to hole up in a refurb garage for months and get the Windthrow back in optimal condition.
“You sure this isn’t falsified?” She stabbed at the data on the pad in front of him, her finger leaving a smudge on the surface.
He nodded, wiping off the smudge with the hem of his shirt. “It’s the genuine article. Even called into the commercial and military registry office to be sure.”
“Alright, but I want ten percent more.”
Mezzik snorted. “We’re family, and you’re trying to gouge me?”
“We’re family, so I’ve been giving you a huge margin for ‘finding’ me jobs when I get half of them on my own. You know Betee wouldn’t call you if I didn’t tell her to.”
“And for that, I’m much obliged. Five percent and you’ve got a deal.”
Ash rolled her eyes, but shook Mezzik’s offered hand anyway. “Where do I find this Randall Fife?”
“He should be waiting at your ship. I gathered he was impatient based on our brief transmission.”
“Transmission? You didn’t even meet the guy face to face? It’s lucky I know you wouldn’t set me up with some creep, just to get a million creds out of the deal.”
“Even if I would, you just talked me down to fifteen percent. If I wanted the money, I would have given it to one of the schmucks I can gouge and not feel bad about.” He smiled at her and jerked his head to the door. “Get going, would ya? Time is money. Oh, and Ash?”
She turned back as she stood.
He raised his blue beer to her and winked. “You can thank me later.”
Ash was almost afraid to ask. “Thank you for what?”
He turned away from her, a wicked smile on his lips. “You’ll see.”


The crowded corridors were no less annoying on her return trip. The only difference from then to now was halfway back to her ship, Ash noticed she’d picked up a tail. Glimpses in the reflections of shop windows showed the same distorted face.
A quick glance over her shoulder told her the creep from the bar hadn’t taken the icy glare as an answer. Or if he had, he’d mistranslated it into Standard as “Oh, baby, I want you.” Funny how some men did that even when you gave them a firm “Fuck off.”
“Off” and “Me” sound nothing alike.
With one stop left before shipping out, she turned right, away from the hangar spindle, and into the less popular shopping mall.
Rounding a corner, she paused for the briefest of seconds to look in the convex mirror in the corner. He was still following her.
Hiding in plain sight was easy enough in crowded corridors like this. She ducked through a merchant’s stall, dodging the thick pots swaying above her head, and moved out the back. Hurrying along the smaller alley behind the stalls, but in front of the shops, was not a task for the lighthearted, or lead-footed. It was annoying, having to pick her way around boxes waiting to be stacked on the carts, and weaving her way around – and once under – men moving product. But it was better than being an easy target.
She paused in the silk stall. Scarves fluttering in the breeze of the ventilation shaft tickled her skin and she pushed them gently away, smoothing them against the metal wall  as she looked for her pursuer.
“You like?” The small woman sitting on the stall’s only stool looked up at her hopefully. The short, exaggerated sentence left Ash wondering if the woman didn’t speak Standard, or if she worried Ash might not.
“It’s lovely. But not in my budget,” she apologized, casting one final glance about for the man following her and gave the woman a conciliatory grimace. She’d already moved on to other potential customers.
Still stepping backward, Ash turned. Her foot caught on a hatch lip and she fell into the tea shop owned by Mezzik’s mother. Her graceless entrance knocked over a stand and sent her sprawling to the floor.
Stunned, she lay staring up at the smiling face of a tea advertisement. Ash let out a slow huff, her chest filling with dull pain, and thanked the Dragod she hadn’t had the wind knocked out of her. She didn’t have time to fight for air. She barely had time for what she was here to do.
But this was mandatory. She always made a stop in at Aunt Summer’s shop and was not about to incur bad luck by skipping it this time around. She let her aunt think it was simply to resupply her tea stash. And while that was partially true, it was not the whole of the reason.
The tiny woman behind the counter looked up and let out a long belly laugh. “Sometimes I think you do these things on purpose.”
Picking herself up, Ash righted the tea stand she’d toppled, scooping up the bundles and restacking them. “Sometimes, I think your son spikes my drinks. If I didn’t know how much he cared about profits… and how much it would cost him if I wrecked my ship, I might be more serious about that.”
“He is a good boy,” she said as she helped Ash off the floor, brushing off the back of her shirt and patting her gently on the shoulder. “Always takes care of you like family should.”
“And I’m grateful for that, but not as grateful as I am for how you take care of me.”
With a sly smile, her diminutive aunt moved back to her place behind the counter. “Mezzik already told me you’re in a hurry. No time for a hug. I will see you when you return.” Tossing a box over the counter, her aunt smiled and turned back to portioning out piles of tea as Ash caught it. “Be careful out there, Pumpkin.”
With good bye and a smile that was mostly for the fact no one had been in the shop to hear her be called that, Ash stepped back into the corridor. Thankfully it was a more graceful exit than her entrance. She saw her tail from the bar at the other end of the mall. His head whipped back and forth. Frustration souring his expression as he looked side to side down the intersecting tube.
With the long curtain of silks between them, Ash slipped through the crowd as quickly and quietly as she could.
Clearing the security checkpoint was a breeze. She knew the three normal staffers, and the trainee seemed eager enough to be included in the laugh they shared. A quick scan of her tea, and the painless process was over.
But, as she made her way through the concourse toward her ship, tension started to knot in the annoying spot between her shoulder blades. Mezzik wouldn’t set her up with a creeper. Not on purpose. That didn’t mean she was overly happy about her new stranger.
She stepped through the hatch into her private hangar bay, the one Mezzik rented for his shippers, and clenched her teeth at the seemingly empty space.
Her ship sat in the center of the landing pad, its three by three landing struts locked into the deck. The only sounds were the echoing creak of the hatch shutting behind her, and the heavy thrum of the air vents.
A third sound echoed in the cavernous space. Eyes darting downward, she saw the booted feet she’d missed before. He walked around from behind the ship, and she cursed under her breath when she saw him.
“That’s a new reaction,” he said with a bright smile, holding out his hand.
Trying to unclench her jaw, Ash took it. Her eyes swept over the impossibly handsome man she was supposed to spend the next week and a half with and all she wanted to do was march back to Air Pollution and punch Mezzik right in his smug face. Maybe she’d even break his pretty nose this time. She knew she would not be thanking him later. The pretty ones were the quickest to screw you over.
But she couldn’t ignore the fact that shipping laws would keep her ass planted right in this hanger if she didn’t take this guy on as a copilot. Rolling her eyes at her idiotic situation, she pushed past him and punched in the access code.
“You wanted to get to Gevalt fast?” she asked, turning to him as the loading hatch eased to the ground.
“That’s what I’m hoping for. Mezzik said you could do that for me.”
“Sure. Get your butt on board and I’ll get us on our way as soon as flight control lets me leave.” She ignored the smile he short her as he hefted an ungainly looking trunk onto his shoulder. “Stow that in the shelves back by the ladderway. Your bunk is the first hatch to the left on the second level.”
He nodded and started inside, stopping once he was out of the hangar lights. In the shadows, he looked dangerous. It sent a shiver down her spine.
“Where’s the cockpit?”
“Listen. I need a copilot for the paperwork. Don’t worry about flight time. I’ve done this run so many times, I could do it in my sleep.”
With a shrug, he turned away and she headed back to the hatchway. Lockdown procedures were very specific, and if she wanted to get off this scrap-metal station in record time, she’d have to play by the rules.
“No shortcuts today,” she muttered under her breath.
Rounding the back of her ship, searching for anything that looked amiss, she stopped dead when she saw a man standing in the hatch way.
“Hey honey, you going my way?” It was the same sleazeball from the bar.
Moving to the hangar’s wall terminal, she threw her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Get lost creep. I’m on a tight schedule and I don’t need some misguided horndog holding me up.”
“I don’t really have time for it either, but why not?” Grabbing her roughly by the wrist, he slammed her up against the wall. Sleazeball’s knee, forced between her legs, lifted her inches off the ground. “When life throws you peaches….”
Ash didn’t struggle. That was what he wanted. Instead, she stared at him, waiting for the perfect time to slam a boot into his boys.
“The saying is lemons,” Randall said from behind him.
Her head snapped around to her passenger. He leaned against the side of her ship, taking a drag from a blue-tipped electronic cigarette, the vapor escaping his mouth in a torrent of curls and wobbles.
“When life gives you lemons.” He stared at them blankly, as though there was nothing at all amiss in the picture in front of him.
Sleazeball hadn’t turned away from her yet, he stared at her with a slowly forming grin. “I didn’t realize you had a boyfriend waiting for you. You should have said.”
Dropping her back to the deck plating, he turned to face Randall. Ash managed to keep her footing and stepped quickly out of reach.
“Don’t bother with the comm feed. He’ll just run away and we’ll have the delay of paperwork.” Randall took another long drag on his cigarette, glaring at Sleaze.
“I’m sure we could settle this real easy. You just sit tight gorgeous, your boyfriend and I are gonna go have a quick chat where the cameras don’t run.”
Randall shot a quick grin in her direction and motioned for the other man to step out first, mumbling something that sounded like. “You don’t think I’m dumb enough to go first, do you?”
Looking for anything to use as a bludgeon in case the wrong one came back, Ash almost missed the interaction at the exit.
The sleazeball smirked at Randall and stepped over the hatch tread. Randall didn’t follow.
Grabbing the hatch lock, he pulled it closed. The heavy clank of metal on metal echoed through the cavernous space, and she heard the dull thud from the other side. Fists on the bulkhead.
“Randall!” The scold escaped her mouth before she could stop it.
He slammed his palm down on the button that started the hanger’s lock down procedure and turned back to her with a grin.
“Problem solved, and call me Rand.”
Staring at him, Ash didn’t move. She had a feeling her problems were only beginning.

Jun 25, 2014

Slowly Getting Print Copies Out

Finally, I'm getting my butt in gear on these print versions. I'm hoping to have the print editions of the next two flynn books available in the next week or two, and from now on there shouldn't be any lag in when you can get the print version from when you can get the kindle format.

So yeah! Enemies is available in print on Amazon now.
And isn't the back cover fun?


Space! And all that Jazz.