Some like'em hot

Please welcome great author and all around talanted gal Amy Leigh McCorkle.  She is treating us to an excerpt from her book, a work in progress..... Land of Fire & Ash

Abagail Michaels had been drifting since being discharged from the army a year ago. Her past was what it was. A decorated veteran. Her family killed by rebels early on in the second civil war. She was a loner. The only thing that brought her solace was her guitar. She was too young to feel so damned old. She was twenty-eight years young and felt like she’d lived three lifetimes. She’d served like a good soldier girl for the eight years the war had waged. And at twenty-seven a cease fire was called and she was given her medals and a discharge paper. No money as the country was now a band of city-states.

            Having no desire to return home to the scene of her worst memories she had drifted. And now, in the hardest winter that she could remember since her first months on the frontlines she found it odd the cold weather had followed her to San Antonio, Texas. She knew the stories that surrounded the city. Filled with outlaws and cowboys it was run by two men, one a fat, and bloated former rebel general known simply as Rob, she knew like the back of her hand. He ran the largest ranch in the southwest, he paid shit wages, treated his women even worse, and let his son bully whoever he chose and paid off the sheriff anytime he broke the law. Abagail had no desire to see him ever again.

            It was the second man she was intrigued by. And hoped to gain help from. But Sam Jackson was known as the Quiet Man by those who worked for him. He owned a small ranch. Paid his workers a decent wage. And while he was a womanizer, he was a soft touch to a damsel in distress. Even though he never bedded down with any one woman for too long they didn’t seem to mind so much.

 About the author:

Amy McCorkle, who also writes as Kate Lynd is the author of 13 published works. She is the bestselling author of Letters to Daniel, Bounty Hunter, Gemini’s War, GLADIATOR:The Gladiator Chronicles, and BLACKOUT: AN AURORA BLACK NOVEL. She has won several Preditors & Editors awards, the recipient of back to back Moondance International Film Festival awards, the co-writer of the 2013 Fright Night Film Festival SciFi Screenplay award for the adaptation her book Bounty Hunter, and is currently a double finalist with her scripts City of the Damned and Bella Morte with her co-screenwriter Melissa Goodman. And her documentary based on the blog and the memoir of the same name, Letters to Daniel is the premiere event at Imaginarium. She loves to hear from her readers, she can be contacted via her site, http://letters-todaniel.blogspot.com .

http://letters-todaniel.blogspot.com

http://twitter.com/kate_lynd

https://www.facebook.com/amy.l.mccorkle.5

https://www.facebook.com/letterstodaniel?ref_type=bookmark

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Amy-McCorkle/173811662670780?ref_type=bookmark

A little steampunk anyone?

Our next Hydra book is Reality Check, which is a dimension-hopping science fiction / steampunk adventure by Eric Garrison.

The talented author is taking us for a little adventure outside of our world!

Information on the book, including the book trailer, Amazon link, can be found here:

http://sillyhatbooks.com/fiction/reality-check/

----------

This game was beyond immersive. I kept forgetting that it was only a game. I actually cared about these simulated people. The Q-T really must have learned a lot about the human experience, to create all this.

Come to think about it, how did Q-T know what creek water shouldtaste like? How'd it understand pain enough to make me feel it? I'd only been here a little while, and I'd hit highs and lows beyond all my years of experience in the real world.

I found strength returning to me, my breathing slowing and my head clearing. I sat up, and when that worked out well, I made a careful effort to stand. I was impressed with my success. Small victories are still victories.

I saw the column of smoke emitting from a stand of trees not far away, so for lack of any better ideas, I clawed up the bank and out onto some scraggly grass. I kept my pace slow and easy, nursing aches and deep bruises I didn't realize I had. My upper arm had swollen to cantaloupe size from the whack the spinning wing had given it. My poor shin screamed with every step. I didn't even want to check my head for bumps. I could already feel the throbbing.

Maybe that nap wouldn't have been a good idea after all. Staying awake, in case of concussion, seemed like the best thing.

I limped along toward the smoking wreck of my plane. The fuselage was now a frail metal skeleton enclosing black, twisted pipes and tanks that used to be the rocket engines. No trace remained of the wings. The smoke slackened its pace as all the wood and most of the fuel had been consumed. The heat coming from the wreck made it too difficult to approach very close. The trees on all sides had blackened trunks and stank of chemical residue from the burnt fuel.

I heard chittering and turned around. I couldn't believe my eyes. It had started life as a squirrel. It was missing fur in great patches, exposing greyish skin. The thing wore, or had implanted, a steel cap from which wires ran. The wires extended along its four limbs and partway down its bare, rat-like tail, strapped on with metal bands that reminded me of hose clamps.

Its eyes glowed red, and it stared at me, twitching with random jerks, like a cartoon robot.

What the hell is that? Franken-squirrel?

It raised its head and lowered it, panning its nasty, creepy little eyes back and forth, reminding me of an old document scanner.

Was it scanning me?

I decided nothing good could come from being scanned by a cybernetic zombie squirrel. 

And now for a little romance!

 

Amazon Link:  http://amzn.com/B00J2ESR14

Author Bio: Melissa Goodman was born and raised in the Louisville, Kentucky. She currently resides in Mount Washington, Kentucky. An avid reader, she read her first romance novel at the age of ten and wrote her first novel at the age of 20. She is a proud member of the University of Kentucky's Big Blue Nation and loves all things NASCAR.

Gunpowder and Lead: Outlaw

Sera stood behind the sheet and listened. Vance’s words chilled her spine. She called herself myriad names for being so stupid as to come to Matthew’s alone. The talking stopped, and she heard footsteps, and things being dropped on the floor. She glanced around the room. There wasn’t much to the place. A desk piled high with papers, and a leather chair. A full size bed rested against one wall with a nightstand. A dresser and a rocking chair were the only other items of furniture. A room off to her left led to what looked like a kitchenette, but she couldn’t see anything else.

After waiting for what seemed an eternity Sera went to the window. There wasn’t much of a view, since it led out to the alley. Soot, garbage and blackened snow were all she saw. Vance and his men had unloaded the wagon. When the boys jumped onto their horses and the rickety contraption began to move she heaved a sigh of relief.

“Sera,” Matthew pulled back the sheet and leaned against the doorframe.

It was one of those moments that Sera dreamed about, but never believed really happened. The room grew smaller, warmer, and her heart began to beat faster. All because he walked into the room and said her name. All because he looked at her as a man did a woman. She tried to break the spell by blinking and looking back out the window.

That was when she saw it. A man was peeking from around the corner. His eyes met Sera’s briefly before he jerked back out of sight. “He left one behind.”

“I figured as much. You made quite an impression on him.”

Her focus remained transfixed on the spot where the man had been.  Matthew moved to stand behind her and rested his hands on her waist.

“Do you see him?” she asked, feeling his breath on her neck.

“He’s probably going to report back to Vance and let him know that I escorted you home.”

“He thinks you’ll take me home? He doesn’t know you very well, does he?”

“Neither do you,” he said whispering in her ear before kissing her neck.  

“Ma-Matthew…what are you doing?”

“Guess.” he teased her, nuzzling against her.

“The man…” she said struggling to stay focused, failing dismally when Matthew turned her around and pulled her closer. She could feel the entire length of him against her. His scent of soap, drink, and everything enticingly male assaulted her senses. As Sera’s eyes drifted close, she didn’t know what had come over her and frankly, she just didn’t care.

A Space adventure with a most unusual hero!

Today I'd like to welcome another talented author providing great adventure and entertainment for some younger readers!
Thanks  to Steven Donahue for the glimpse into his book!

Astronaut and the Flight for Freedom page:  http://amytheastronaut.yolasite.com/

Get your copy at http://www.amazon.com/Astronaut-Flight-Freedom-Steven-Donahue/dp/0615931952/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394907212&sr=1-1&keywords=amy+the+astronaut  

  In this scene, Amy and her robot friend, Madison, steal a spaceship called the Liberty Bell in an attempt to rescue her father from alien captors called the Crownaxians.

The duo boarded the craft and hurried to the bridge. The layout of the bridge matched the simulator program that Amy hadn’t quite mastered. They began the prelaunch sequence together before Madison exited to find the terminal that operated the hangar doors. Amy watched the robot locate the terminal and set a timer to open the doors in two minutes. Madison ran back aboard and sat in the co-pilot’s chair. While the engines warmed up, Amy opened a supply locker door and found a helmet and flight suit. “Turn around for a minute,” she said to Madison. The robot did and Amy quickly put on the suit, which was a little too big for her. She put on the helmet and saw that the engines were ready.

Red lights inside the hangar flashed as an alarm screeched. Amy took a deep breath then grabbed hold of the yoke. She stepped on the accelerator and steered the ship through the doors and out into the darkness. As the ship sped up, she saw the Union soldiers aiming their weapons at the craft. “Turn on the shields!” she yelled. The robot typed in a command on the keyboard in front of it just before the soldiers opened fire. The laser blasts ricocheted off the shields and landed harmlessly on the ground.

Amy flipped the switch for the thrusters and the ship began to lift off of the ground. She saw some soldiers hurrying toward the smaller, fighter ships. “C’mon, C’mon,” she said, tapping the console in front of her. Amy then caught of glimpse of Yale’s angry face as the Liberty Bell rose higher and she felt some regret for having to do this to her friend.

The Liberty Bell roared through the night sky toward the planet’s atmosphere. Six small Union fighter crafts pursued the ship, firing their laser cannons. Amy held tightly onto the yoke as the shields took a pounding. She steered the ship into a controlled roll to avoid as many laser blasts as she could. She read the shield gauge and realized that the rear deflectors wouldn’t stand too many more direct hits. Taking a chance, she fired the reverse thrusters and the ship came to a jarring halt, sending Madison crashing into the console in front of the robot. “Sorry,” said Amy, shrugging.

The other ships flew past them and the Liberty Bell fell in behind them. “Target their weapons systems,” ordered Amy. Madison nodded, and then fired laser shots at the ships, hitting two of them. The damage was minimal but enough to send them back to the planet. However, the four remaining crafts turned around and began firing again. Amy banked hard to her left and tried to fly under the laserfire. The side shields absorbed three hits but Amy was able to put some distance between her and the others.

Amy scanned the radar screen and found something interesting. “There’s a nebula about 120,000 miles ahead,” she reported. “We’re going in.” She steered toward the space cloud as the other four ships continued to follow her. She pushed on the accelerator and the ship began to shake as the engines strained to keep up. Within seconds they reached the edge of the nebula. Their pursuers fired a few last shots that never reached the ship.

Once inside the nebula, Amy steered the Liberty Bell toward the thickest patch of the cloud. Radiation from the nebula scrambled her radar screen. “They’re as blind as we are in here,” she said. “Let’s hope we don’t bump into them.” A half-hour passed before the Liberty Bell’s inertia caused the ship to drift out of the nebula. Amy checked the radar and saw no signs of the other ships. She plotted a course toward the Crownaxian homeworld and hit the accelerator. Then she took a deep breath and looked at her friend. “Here we go,” she said. “God help us.”

So if you met the devil himself. ....

Welcome fabulous author Tony Acree and his best selling book the Hand of God!

http://www.amazon.com/The-Hand-Victor-McCain-Series-ebook/dp/B00GBFZIMS/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1401670199&sr=8-2&keywords=tony+acree

It was 6 p.m. when the Devil walked into my office and had a seat. Now when I say the Devil, I’m not talking figuratively. Lord knows that having spent the last five years as a bounty hunter, I’ve come face to face with every form of evil that walks on this scum-ridden planet: murderers, rapists, even a couple of freakin’ child molesters. So I have more than a passing acquaintance with evil, of both the male and female varieties. But no, in this case, I’m talking in the literal sense. You know, as in Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, the goddamned Father of all goddamned Lies. That Devil. You’re probably wondering if he was all red, with horns, a pointed tail and pitchfork. Sorry to disappoint you, but he wasn’t. He looked like any other well-dressed bastard in a snazzy suit and shoes to match. OK, he did have a red tie, but I couldn’t see any tail coming out his ass. He was around six feet tall, blond hair and icy blue eyes. Guess we know where Hitler got his ideas for all that superior race crap. And I bet you’re also wondering just how the hell I knew it was the Fallen Angel himself. I guess it was the same way Moses knew that the burning bush was really God and not just a couple of his buddies lighting the damned thing on fire and then pretending to be God while hiding behind the closest rock laughing. Let’s put it this way, if the Devil walked through your door one day, you won't have any doubts either. Take my word for it. Anyway, I'd had a good week and was just getting ready to leave and lock the place up, looking forward to taking the weekend off from chasing bad guys and heading down to Molly Malone’s, when the

door opened and in waltzed Satan, just as pretty as you please. He pulled up a chair near my desk and sat down flashing a row of pearly whites the Kardashian family would be proud of.

“Victor, you know who I am?” he said, eyebrows all arched and superior, although it was more of a proclamation than a question.

I nodded back and calmly opened the top right drawer of my desk and grabbed my Glock 9 millimeter I keep there in case of emergencies. I figured if this didn't qualify for an emergency then nothing would.

“You know that won’t do you any good,” he said.

He was right. Somehow I knew that. After all, for more than a couple of millennium at a bare minimum, people have wanted to kick Satan’s backside with no success. I just knew it wouldn’t do me any good.

But I pulled the gun out and shot the son-of-a-bitch right between the eyes anyway. Blamo!

A perfect gun powdered entry wound appeared smack dab between his eyes. But I could see no blood and no head explosion out the back, just a big hole and an annoyed look on Satan’s formerly pristine mug. Now you would think that a guy, after being shot in the head, would exhibit some sort of adverse effects, but not this time. And folks, that’s just wrong.

Check out this thriller to see what happens next!

Galaxy gear one!

Live wallpapers!

Galaxy gear the first and best....

Word is out that the original Galaxy Gear is receiving an update to a new OS. I can't say that I am that happy about the change.  I have used a fabulous ROM from XDA and currently can use the play store, play you tube videos, and best yet.....live wallpapers! ! Top that, Samsung!

Summer escapes

The summer has officially started according to the weather forecasters, even if the school calendar doesn't agree.  Summer means hot, slow days, beach vacations, family time, and maybe a few books read that you've been putting off in the rush of the workweek.  For this month, I'd like to take the opportunity to give readers just a nugget, a taste of our writing styles, the sound of our voices, the bits of our characters that live in our minds, and when you join us for a read, will live in your minds as well.

To kick us off, I'm giving you a sample of the first book in my trilogy, Grave Reminders.

 http://www.amazon.com/Dearly-Departed-Reminders-Rachael-Rawlings-ebook/dp/B00GJ6NYH0/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1401635347&sr=8-3&keywords=rachael+rawlings

            "And you?  Where will you go?  You won't stay?"

            "I'll see you safely inside.  Then I'll go."

            "You'll be back?"

            He nodded wordlessly and I watched, frozen, as he drew close to me.  Closer, I could see that his eyes were a very light color, but could not see the shade.  The scent of him, something like pine and soap, enveloped me momentarily as the wind caressed his figure.  He was tall, and I had to tip my head back to follow his expression.  One long fingered hand caught my elbow and followed my arm down to my wrist where he pulled my hand from my pocket.  He enveloped my freed hand in his gentle grasp, his skin surprisingly warm and dry.

            "Come on," his voice was soft, floating on the breeze, mixed with the waning fog.

            I followed. Did I have a choice?  I walked with him to the gate and through it into the fenced grounds of my home by the window where my parents usually slept, warm and sheltered in their first floor bedroom.

            The back door was still closed, but the screen was fluttering now with the wind that had revived like a slumbering creature.  The stranger paused at the foot of the porch stairs while Baxter anxiously skittered up, suddenly fearful of the coming rain.

            "I'll be seeing you."

            His hand released me, and I felt some emotion that was difficult to name.  Lonely?  Was that me; was it him?  I climbed the steps feeling clumsy without his light touch.  My fingers fumbled with the door latch, and I slipped into the shadowed house, my eyes never leaving his figure.  Baxter pushed in at my feet as I stood still in the doorway.

            He sketched a wave and turned away, the darkness coming eagerly to swallow him.

            I paused to lock the door, although I couldn't say why.  There were days and nights on end that the lock was never engaged.  I wasn't locking him out; maybe I was locking myself in.

            I climbed the steps with speed and entered my room, my jacket hanging loosely from my shoulders.  I went immediately to the window to look out, using my jacket sleeve to clear away the damp.

            He was there.  The rain was coming in fine sheets of cold, dampening his light hair and glittering off his pale skin.  When he tipped his face up to look into the glass, I could see his eyes.  Topaz?