Welcome to the Sci-Fi and Fantasy Book Party!
Welcome to the genreCRAVE Science Fiction and Fantasy $1200 Giveaway! We have something really exciting set up for you. First, some KILLER Science Fiction and Fantasy books at a steal, and after that, a chance to enter our $1200 Gift Card Giveaway! Read on for more information, but first, check out the books from our sponsors at the link below!
VIEW BOOKS FROM THE SPONSORS HERE!
—
Here are a couple of sneak peeks!
Ambassador 1: Seeing Red
I had never been on first-name terms with the president, but while I sat there trying hard not to succumb to jet-lag, he chatted about my father, whom I had just visited, and who had finally retired from Lunar Base to his native New Zealand. Sirkonen opened the drawer of his desk and took something out, which he flipped across the gleaming wooden surface. I could do nothing but catch it. A datastick. I turned it over. The black plastic cover reflected the sunlight.
“You might find it useful. Think of it as some . . . personal advice, from me to you. We’ll talk about it later, when you return for your first briefing.” He shut the drawer with a thud as if closing the subject.
This was highly irregular. “Mr President, can I ask—”
He shook his head, and offered me a drink—Finnish vodka, best in the world, he said. While he poured, his hands trembled.
I should have insisted that he tell me what was wrong, but who was I? An unimportant, sending-out-our-feelers type of diplomat, expendable and twenty years his junior. Not the type of person to draw attention to his problems—with alcohol or otherwise.
We made a toast. The heavy scent of the vodka did nothing to improve my alertness.
“Mr Wilson, when you come back in six month’s time, you must present your report to the general assembly. We need to know in detail what sort of regimes we’re dealing with.”
I didn’t understand why he spoke in such empty generalities; I wondered when he was going to open that folder on his desk and sign the contract. Nicha, my Coldi assistant, was waiting in the foyer. We had a whole heap of work to catch up on. I was annoyed that Sirkonen had changed our meeting time at the last minute—the original meeting had been scheduled for tomorrow morning.
Sirkonen stopped speaking.
I stared at him, realising with embarrassment that I’d been off with the fairies. Was I meant to have said something? Was I breaking rule number one of the diplomatic circle: never show any sign of sleep deprivation?
An attack of dizziness overtook me. My vision wavered, as if the world were painted on a silk flag that flapped in the wind, and all the furniture was rimmed in a red aura. “Mr President, I’m—”
I just managed to put my vodka down. The glass hit the wood with a soft clunk, the only sound in the frozen silence.
There was a small sound from outside, a click.
As if stung, Sirkonen turned to the window; his eyes widened.
“Sir?”
The president opened his mouth, but a sharp crack interrupted his words.
—
Releasing Rage
She stepped into the firewall square. The door behind her closed and she authorized the interior door to open.
It was too much, almost suffocating. Joan swayed, lightheaded. “Do not faint. Do not faint,” she repeated to herself, closing her eyes.
The rolling under her feet gradually stopped. She opened her eyes and wished she hadn’t. Crimson spray covered everywhere she looked. Gore was splattered into the farthest corners, hanging from the ceiling. Cleaner bots scrubbed the walls and floor.
This was why she felt dizzy, she reasoned. She smelled and sensed this butchery.
C899321, the being she had been told was responsible, stood in his uploading dock, a cable inserted into his nape, his towering form naked, covered with blood, his long black hair dripping with it.
He turned his head, locked his gaze with hers and she sucked in her breath. There were worlds of agony, of rage, in those bright blue eyes. This was no rational, logic-driven cyborg. This was a man, an animal, crazed by bloodlust and pain.
“They thought to pacify me with the use of a human female?” he thundered, his deep gravelly voice clawing across her skin, awakening parts in her she didn’t realize slept. “I’d kill you before I allowed you to touch me.”
This insult didn’t hurt her the way he’d intended. Joan knew she wasn’t the slim tiny female males desired. She was solidly built, good breeding stock, as her mother had once said.
She discarded his words and focused on the torment in his tones. He hurt. Horrifically. Her fingers twitched, the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, tremendous. Judging by the flex of his powerful biceps and thigh muscles, by the anger radiating from him, he wouldn’t appreciate that response.
He also wouldn’t listen to any command she issued. A reprimand, verbal or physical, would add to his hostility. Some being had already tried to restrain him and failed. The reportedly unbreakable wrist and ankle cuffs attached to the frame of the uploading dock had been shattered, rendered useless.
Joan discarded four solar cycles’ worth of theory on how to handle malfunctioning cyborgs, realizing now that the academy experts knew nothing.
Her late father, however, had taught her how to deal with wild beasts.
“I would never touch you without your permission.” She lowered her gaze, showing submission, recognizing C899321 as the dominant male he was. He’d seek to harm any aggressor, to protect himself and his territory. If she wasn’t female, she suspected she’d already be dead.
“I also would never hurt you.” Joan stuffed a couple of cleaning cloths into her pockets and dropped to her knees, into a puddle of red. The moisture soaked through her flight suit. “I’m here to serve you, to clean you.”
IMMUREMENT (Excerpt)
by Norma Hinkens
I slither backward into the Crematauto, and twist my head around to peek through the half-open driver’s door. The third guard is kneeling behind the checkpoint, gun trained on the back of the Crematauto, waiting for us to emerge. I weigh my odds. It’s an awkward shot, straining from a semi-prone position, wedged sideways between the seats. I count to three and take it anyway.
The Schutz Clone quivers for a second and then topples to the ground. I swallow hard. There wasn’t a better option than to take him out, but it doesn’t change how I feel inside, like I’m icing over. I exhale slowly, and then flick the switch on my gun to safety.
“Quick!” Sven reaches a hand into the Crematauto to pull me out. “He called for backup. We gotta go.”
I shove Tucker out of the vehicle first, then place my hand in Sven’s. A shiver runs up my arm when his huge hand closes over mine. So different to Jakob’s touch.
“Why can’t we take the Crematauto?” I ask.
“Once the Sweepers pinpoint the tracker on it, they’ll implode it,” Sven replies.
Mason drags Rummy out next, and tosses him over his shoulder. Sven pokes Lyong in the ribs with his M16. “Out!”
The doctor mutters something unintelligible and scoots himself forward a few inches. Sven grabs him by the scruff of the neck and hauls him out. I wish we could leave him behind, but we might need him as collateral.
“Which way?” I ask, glancing in both directions.
Sven motions in front of him with his weapon. He moves off down the corridor, hauling the disgruntled doctor after him with his free hand. Mason falls in behind, Rummy draped across his shoulders. I take up the rear, glancing behind me every few feet. At least my hands are free so one of us can get a round off quickly if we come under attack. Mason’s at a huge disadvantage with Rummy’s dead weight on his shoulders. Reluctantly, I send Tucker up to flank him. If nothing else, he can alert him to any ambush from a side tunnel.
Alone with my dark thoughts, I question what I’ve done. The stench of death is on me now, and nothing will ever be the same.
Clone killer.
The crushing words sear my conscience. I’ve taken a life, no matter how I define that life, or how many units that life was destined to be.
The dimly lit tunnel stretches out in front like a black hole winding its way to the earth’s core. There’s no sign of movement up ahead, but I’m afraid even to blink in case the Schutz Clones attack. I’ve been counting on Tucker to forewarn us, but I’m still not sure clones have a scent he can pick up on.
I open my mouth to ask Mason about it. It’s the last thought I have before a calloused hand closes over my lips.
BLURB
GRAND PRIZE WINNER of the 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Award for fiction
WINNER of the 2016 Next Generation Indie Book Award for Young Adult fiction
The Sweepers are coming. They hunt the young. Earth's end is her beginning.
Sixteen-year-old Derry and her brother live in perpetual fear of capture. They survive underground on a scorched earth overrun by gangs, clones, and mysterious hoverships. When her brother goes missing, Derry’s only hope of finding him is to strike a deal with a group of cutthroat subversives. Desperate to save her brother, she leads a daring raid to uncover the secrets behind the Sweepers’ hoverships, but she soon finds out the world she knows is a lie.
Keeping her brother alive may require trusting her enemy and opening her heart to something she never thought possible.
Immurement is the first book in The Undergrounders Series, a sci-fi dystopian thriller trilogy. If you like captivating apocalyptic tales, gritty complex heroines, and twists you won’t see coming, then you’ll love this fast-paced, end-of-the-world adventure!
AVAILABLE ON AMAZON:
ABOUT NORMA HINKENS
Award-winning Indie author Norma Hinkens writes Pretty Gritty YA at a pace that will leave you slack-jawed! A self-professed travel junkie, legend lover, idea wrangler, Norma grew up among rich storytelling traditions in her native Ireland, land of make-believe and the original little green man. After abandoning globetrotting as a career choice, she settled in California and began scribbling down the yarns that have been brewing in her head for years. In her spare time she retreats to rural Idaho to hike, bike and boat, but mostly to eavesdrop on mountain men and prepare for the apocalypse. If you like dystopian sagas, gritty heroines, and twists you won’t see coming, then you’ll love her turbo-paced thrill-rides!
VIP Reader Club: http://eepurl.com/bGSLlb
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NormaHinkensAuthor/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/normahinkensauthor/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/NormaHinkens
Blog: http://normahinkens.com/blog/
—
GIVEAWAY!
Entering is easy! Directions are on the Rafflecopter, but as an overview:
- Subscribe to genreCRAVE and confirm your subscription when you receive the confirmation. You must confirm via the confirmation email to get entry for the $1200!
- Select what other newsletters you would like to join. Each newsletter = 1 entry. Enter your email to confirm. This email must match the email you used for confirmation in step 1!
- You may unsubscribe at any time, but reporting as Spam will get you disqualified from all future giveaways, and we run some pretty awesome giveaways (in the last 30 days, we’ve given away multiple books as well as a $2000 and $1000 gift card, and now this $1200 one!)
- Winner will be announced at our Facebook Party and contacted via Email. We will have other prizes at the Facebook Party as well!
a Rafflecopter giveaway
No comments:
Post a Comment