"I am ready to meet my maker. Whether my maker is prepared to meet me is another matter."
-Winston Churchill
Showing posts with label romance authors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance authors. Show all posts

Friday, June 12, 2015

6 Besties With Author Kate Deveaux - Cockpit Book Tour & Giveaway








6 Besties With Author Kate Deveaux



Kate Deveaux

Please share your 6 bests, telling us from the topics below. Write as much, as little, and provide as many images as you'd like.

1. Best writing wardrobe. I write everyday so it’s pretty much whatever I have on which is usually some sort of tennis skirt and a comfy tee or sweater if it’s winter. A real luxury is writing in my bathrobe

2. Best Inspiration for writing. I find going on vacation no matter how close to home unleashes creative thought. That and a day by the pool work wonders.

3. Best writing place. My favorite chair in my living room, with my laptop, a cup of tea, and a little notebook to jot down things that pop into my head about the plot while I’m writing.

4. Best Pick-Me-Up book. There are a few books that really make me feel good. I have to say a Maeve Binchy such as Evening Class works every time. I’m transported to a different world and immersed in the daily lives of her Dublin characters. Also, Elin Hilderbrand and Wendy Wax are good beach reads and feel good reads.

5. Best secret talent. Now it wouldn’t be secret now if I told you, would it? Okay, okay, here’s one: I have a bit of a photographic memory. I know, that’s like being a little pregnant, LOL, but I do have a pretty good photographic memory. Comes in handy let me tell you.

6. Best experience or writing idea. Best writing idea…go to a coffee shop and observe (and listen). Guaranteed ideas for a book if you sit and watch while you sip your latte.

Thank you so much for having me today!

Always fun stopping by to chat.

Best,
Kate

xx




Cockpit Throttle Up
Book One
Kate Deveaux

Genre: Erotic Romance

Publisher: Ellora’s Cave
Date of Publication: June 3, 2015

ISBN: 9781419991868
ASIN:

Number of pages: 65
Word Count: 30,000

Book Description:

It seems turbulence isn’t always caused by weather.

Throttle up as past loves collide…

High school sweethearts re unite forty years later at 37,000 feet.

Fifty eight year old commercial airline pilot, Bobbi Cooper, gets a blast from the past when her high school sweetheart, Mack McConnell, appears as one her first class passengers on her 747 transatlantic flight to London.

Used to being in control at all times, Bobbi is reeling from a crummy marriage and she must learn at Mack’s capable hands that losing control can be oh so sexy.




Available at Amazon BN Ellora’s Cave






Excerpt:

There was silence. Then the familiar sensation of her stomach being dragged down, right down to her standard issue black shoes. G force. It was the same every time.
Flicking off the autopilot and taking control of the 747, Bobbi gripped the throttle in her right hand, fearlessly pushing it forward. Slow and even. The plane bounced and shook in the wake turbulence of a passing 767. The muffled sounds of passengers’ outbursts at the sudden drop mingled with the clatter and clang of the galley carts that Bobbi damn well hoped were secured as she’d ordered.
They had to head to higher airspace. Now.
Bobbi knew better than to heed the shrill rapid warnings echoing throughout the cockpit to urgently trim to turbulence penetration airspeed.
Scott, her first officer, nodded as they increased power and held the jet seemingly against its will. Dozens of lights flashed. Air traffic control rattled off a series of confirmations when she pressed the plane higher, the metal creaking as she forced nearly a million pounds of steel and its occupants upward.
Pushing the throttle hard, Bobbi knew smooth air was only a few moments away. Under her guidance, the plane jostled and battled its way through the rough air. A sudden bump, followed by another, then the resulting loud gasp from the passengers.
Holding firm at her command, they broke through the rough air into an eerie smoothness as they glided seemingly effortlessly into calmer airspace.
Bobbi exhaled, only now aware she’d been holding her breath. Turbulence was an everyday occurrence for a seasoned pilot like herself, but this had caught her off guard. A heady mix of bad weather and the wake turbulence of the other aircraft had left her reeling when she tried to steady the 747 inbound for Heathrow.
Scott turned away to double-check some details with the flight engineer seated behind him. Bobbi wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow when he wasn’t looking. As captain of the immense beast, Bobbi couldn’t let her fellow officers—or any crew for that matter—see her sweat under pressure. And that was becoming more of an issue, since hot flashes were now often brought on not by an adrenaline rush from flying but by Mother Nature.
Bobbi Cooper couldn’t believe she would be fifty-eight next year. Where had the time gone?
She knew damn well where it had gone. First a stepping-stone career in the Air Force and then thirty years flying commercial. Enough to establish her as one of the highest-ranking woman pilots in the country as a 747 captain for Atlantica airlines.
Perfect,” Bobbi said, switching back to autopilot and settling the aircraft into the calmer and higher altitude.
Scott did as she ordered and tinkered with the gauges, she watched. Once she was sure all was under control, Bobbi unbuckled her shoulder harness and rose from her seat, reassured all was secure.
Keep her on route—I’m stepping back for a moment. You two got it?” she asked, standing behind her first officer Scott and her flight engineer Neville, the new recruit fresh from a small regional airline.
Sure, Bob, we got it,” Scott said casually, calling her by the familiar cockpit nickname. “Have them send up some coffee while you’re back there.”
Bobbi buzzed for the flight attendant to open the cockpit door. Standard procedure after 9/11. Bobbi peered out through the peephole. It was Sandy, the flight attendant with a penchant for displaying her ample cleavage by wearing her uniform extra tight, so it hugged all her curves. But it wasn’t only her inappropriate dress that annoyed Bobbi. It was the fact she’d also had fucked Bobbi’s husband.
But then again, who hasn’t?
After divorce and company paid-for counseling, Bobbi had come to the realization, and then acceptance, that Sandy was just one on a long list of Greg’s conquests. She did her best not to hold a grudge, but that was a constant challenge, as she ran into Sandy more than she would have liked. Once a century was about what Bobbi could tolerate, although it had been cleared by corporate that they were fine to work together. And they were. Bobbi was a professional. Through and through. She’d fought tooth and nail for her job, and with three and a half years until retirement, with the promise of a cushy pension waiting for her, which she’d only have to marginally share with Greg according to the settlement, there was no way she was going to let Sandy or any of the others put her off her game.
How’d everyone do?” Bobbi asked Sandy with her cool, composed captain’s demeanor. It was the one piece of her dignity she’d salvaged among the women flight attendants, a good majority of whom had been treated to Greg’s lustful attentions.
Sandy motioned with her head back toward the passenger area. “Fine,” she reported. “Chucker in aisle sixteen and a few more farther back, but they should be fine now.”
Chuckers. That was what they called the passengers who couldn’t hang on to lunch during a bumpy flight. Today had been a doozy, and it wasn’t over yet.
Bobbi noticed with subtle irritation that Sandy’s blouse strained against her perky breasts as she efficiently flicked the switch on the coffee machine. Her bosom jiggled while she scooped ice into a plastic cup and pulled a can of tomato juice out of the galley cart. Shit. Greg really hadn’t had a chance. Big brown doe eyes and a body that wouldn’t quit. The sexy flight attendant was everything Bobbi wasn’t. Not that it mattered now. Greg was on to new, greener pastures. Her ex was consistent she scoffed —his conquests all had one, no make that two things in common— big knockers and tiny, round asses. Men were shit, really. Why she had let herself be demeaned and embarrassed by his bad behavior for as long as she had, she’d never know.
C’est le vie, Bobbi coached herself as she smiled her most innocuous smile at Sandy.
Plan for a bumpy ride in to Heathrow—there’ll be some more weather ahead,” Bobbi warned her. “Might need more bags.”
Sure thing, Captain,” Sandy said as she snapped open the lid on the can, poured the tomato juice over ice and handed it to Bobbi.
Bobbi nodded her appreciation and gulped down her customary in-flight refreshment. “I’m going back for a few minutes,” she said, handing the empty cup back to Sandy before pulling back the curtain to first class. “And send some coffee in for Scott and Neville before we head down, please.”
Entering the first-class cabin on her way to the pilot’s rest area located between first class and business, Bobbi scanned the spacious cabin. Most of her passengers were now contentedly dozing, oblivious to the formidable battle she’d been waging in the cockpit to keep them in precariously calm airspace. But that was her job—to deliver five hundred souls safely to London.
Sunlight illuminated the plush first-class cabin through a few half-drawn window shades, but not quite to enough to keep the blinding sun from searing into her eyes. Squinting, she walked down the aisle, passing by the first row.
A collective gasp came from the passengers when the plane hit another deep air pocket. Bobbi reached out to steady herself, placing her hand on the headrest of the second row seat for a brief second, smiling reassuringly at the surrounding passengers. She was their pilot, after all.
The passenger in the nearest seat looked up at her.
Bobbi smiled down, then did a double take.
Bobbi?” the male passenger asked, looking up at her. “Bobbi…Bobbi Cooper?”
Yes,” Bobbi said, instantly recognizing his features. Her mind was spinning. Those dark-blue eyes. And that unmistakable voice. Velvety and thick. The way scotch felt when it slid down her throat. She’d know that voice and that face anywhere. Even if it had been forever.
It was Mack.



About the Author:

Kate Deveaux is a contemporary, erotic romance writer and die-hard romantic. It was after reading Jane Eyre in high school, that she became hooked on the idea of writing about romance, excitement and drama. Kate has been penning stories, from the sensual to the sinfully sexy, ever since.

A former wedding planner, Kate has always been "in love" with love! She was inspired to transition from writing racy short stories to full length manuscripts after meeting other authors in the romance world at industry workshops, conferences and events. Originally from England, now resides in the U.S. with her husband. When she’s not writing or reading, Kate can be found on the tennis court—yes, there’s even "love" in that game too!









Street Team Kate’s Kittens:








Tour giveaway

5 $10.00 Amazon Giveaways

3 Copies of ebook Bride Undone

3 Copies of ebook Platinum Pleasures

2 Copies of ebook Academy of Love

2 Copies of ebook Sail Away With Me



Link to entry form







Tuesday, May 13, 2014

Book Blast & $50 Amazon Gift Card Giveaway - True Nature by Jessica Freely




Author Bio:

Jessica Freely can't resist a wounded hero. As a reader and a writer, her favorite stories are of soul mates finding redemption in each other's arms. Married to the love of her life in a beautiful relationship based on mutual goofiness, Jessica also warps minds as an instructor in Seton Hill University's Writing Popular Fiction MFA program. Her dog, Ruthie, doesn't seem to care that Jessica's an award-winning and best-selling author in multiple genres. She just wants to play tug of war with Jessica's pages.

Author Links -

Jessica Freely Online:
Website & Blog: http://jessicafreely.com



Book Genre: Paranormal Gay Romance
Publisher: Loose Id
Release Date: April 22
Buy Link(s):

Loose Id Buy Link: 

Book Description:

Lake Clearwater--conservation officer and water spirit--has just been appointed guardian of Gem Pond by The Powers That Be. It's the first time in eight years he's had a real home and he's determined to protect it, even if that means hiding his attraction to his sexy new partner, Forrest Oakwood.

Forrest is a native of the Gem Pond area and the guardian of its trees. He knows the land and its people are a crucial lynchpin in the natural order. He also knows that if he comes out, his boss in the DNR, Sgt. Dennison, will find an excuse to fire him. But ignoring his true nature was a lot easier before Lake Clearwater showed up. The man's a walking, talking wet dream.

Meanwhile, local residents--human and animal alike--conspire to bring Lake and Forrest together. The land needs its guardians united and at their full power. Dennison wants to cut down the trees to make room for water slides and tennis courts. If Forrest and Lake don't embrace their passion for each other, they'll be unable to stop him and that would be a disaster, not just for Gem Pond but for the entire natural world.

Excerpt One:

It was full dark and snowing by the time Forrest finished his report. He stood up with a groan and stretched his stiff muscles.
Clearwater sat at the kitchen table, playing a game of solitaire. He looked up as Forrest entered and smiled. “Want some soup? I made it myself.”
Forrest wandered to the stove and sniffed suspiciously at the simmering pot. It actually smelled pretty good. “What is it?”
“Lentil.”
“Vegetarian, right?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean it’s not delicious. Here, let me get you a bowl. Sit down. What do you want to drink?”
Forrest allowed himself to be herded over to the table.
A few minutes later, Lake set a plate with bread and butter beside him, poured him a glass of milk, and set a steaming bowl of lentil soup before him. It was kind of like being a kid again only…
Only Lake didn’t look anything like his mom. He sat down opposite Forrest now, tucking his long blond hair behind his ears. His green eyes gleamed as he waited for Forrest’s reaction.
Forrest took a spoonful. Flavors of sage, rosemary, and garlic burst across his tongue, borne by the silken seduction of pulverized lentils. “Mmmmmm.”
Lake sat back, looking like a bear with a piece of honeycomb. “Good, huh?”
He nodded, but apprehension stole in upon him. “You trying to convert me, Clearwater?”
Lake widened his eyes as if to feign innocence. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Like hell. Forrest enjoyed the soup anyway.
* * * *
As he washed the dishes, Forrest’s thoughts returned to the events of the night before. He remembered Clearwater’s body stretched out in the bed, naked and tan, all long lines and flat planes. As he washed his supper dishes, his fingers tingled, remembering the silken texture of that warm, smooth skin. How he wanted to touch those rose-pink nipples, tease them, and watch them become erect, and then dip his head down, circling each one with the tip of his tongue as Clearwater’s gasps and moans of pleasure bathed his ears.
“Think I’ll turn in early and do some reading,” Clearwater said.
Forrest started, dropped the soapy bowl, and splashed water all over his shirt.
Clearwater laughed. “Sorry.”
“Just not used to having someone else around.” That should have been someone so hot around. Forrest fought to quell his burgeoning erection.
Silence. Clearwater was still there. No footsteps announced his departure. But he didn’t say anything. What was he doing? Embarrassment and irritation doused Forrest’s libido, and he was able to turn around without humiliating himself.
Clearwater stood in the doorway, staring at him.
“What?”
“Officer Riverbend… Not much of a talker?”
The understatement forced a smile to Forrest’s lips. “You could say that.”
Clearwater nodded. “I’ll try not to overwhelm you with my relentless chitchat.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just… I don’t know. It’s just…” What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he complete a sentence?
“It’s a change.”
“Yeah.”
They stared at each other in silence. Forrest felt the stillness of the winter night settle around them.
Suddenly Clearwater drew a deep breath and turned away. “Well, good night.”
“Good night.”
Forrest finished up the dishes. Yawning, he went into the bedroom and grabbed his PJs. Clearwater was already in bed. One rosebud nipple peeked out from beneath the blanket as he lay on his back, reading a book. No pajama top. What about the bottoms? 












Friday, April 11, 2014

Chatting With Casey Lea - The Iron Altar Trilogy Book Tour & Giveaway




I am so excited to introduce you to our guests today. They are a Mother-Daughter writing team of the series - The Iron Altar. They're on tour with their newest release, Frostbite and I had a chance to chat with this duo today. Welcome to IAB Shelley & Emma, better known as Casey Lea!

Welcome to IAB. I'm so glad you could stop in today to chat. May I offer you a beverage? 

Two Vampire Wines, please. Red of course.

Now that we are settled in, let's get to know you better.

BK: Looking out the nearest window, describe the scene you see.

The mountains in the distance, the lake outside our house and our old dog on the deck, looking suspiciously through her cataracts at everyone walking past.

BK: Tell us about your office. Is it a mess like mine, or is everything in its place?

What office? I’m afraid it’s a tablet in the lap and a comfy couch. Serious work gets done at Emma’s. She’s got two computer screens, which I used to think was overkill, but is brilliant for editing. It makes comparing different versions, or cutting and pasting very easy.

BK: What is a must-have, such as coffee or a favorite pen, that you need to write?

Shelley needs plenty of water to keep the aging brain hydrated and regular calories to keep the fingers twitching.

Emma finds insomnia extremely productive, especially when followed by copious caffeine.

BK: Do you like to write in silence, or do you need music or background noise?

Shelley tends to write with favourite programs playing on the TV. Admittedly this can be distracting, especially during Battlestar Galactica or Game of Thrones or The Gilmore Girls, so rereading has to be done in silence.

Emma definitely needs the sound of silence.

BK: Tell us a bit about your hero/heroine, and their development.

We’ve got two heroines, which makes life interesting. They were created to fit their roles and were initially pretty simple. Darsey was an ordinary girl, smart and feisty when she had to be, but basically trying to find herself and her place in the universe. In contrast Amber Grace was an old lady with an iron will, determined to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Strangely, once we let them loose on the page they instantly gravitated toward each other. It turned out they’d both suffered traumatic losses and then carried guilt over them. They both became survivors who were driven to protect others. They dealt with their similar experiences in a similar way and this similarity became more marked after Amber entered her new body.

She became young again, with all the hormonal challenges that entailed and also shared cells and DNA with Darsey. They started to converge which seemed to make sense as they headed toward the same altar. They’re both smart, loyal women capable of great courage and conviction. Amber has the advantage of moral perspective and knows what she has to do, while Darsey flails around being overprotective. Amber remains more cynical and impatient of incompetence, with a potentially sharp tongue.

However, they ended up with similar personalities and that made their different knowledge of the altar a nice contrast. Darsey had no idea what was coming and would fight it tooth and nail. Amber understood it completely and would fight to take her place on it.

So we unexpectedly had our heroines trying to merge, with some convergent evolution, but it suited what happened to them and what they were then destined to share.


BK: What is your unique twist that you've brought to your storyline?
The sacrifice made at the end of the trilogy wasn’t quite what we thought it would be initially. So that might be a surprise, but it grew very naturally from each character’s motivation.

BK: As a writer myself, I'm always curious how other writers get through stumble blocks. When you find a story not flowing, or a character trying to fight you, how do you correct it?

This is the best part of writing together. It’s much easier to get going again when you can discuss what’s happening and then brainstorm options. In fact we recommend talking to yourself if necessary. Just going over things out loud can help. The planning board is also useful. Write down every idea you can, color them in (just for fun), slap them on the board and see how they fit. If nothing works step away from the book for a while and do something that relaxes and distracts the brain. Get those creative juices flowing.

When it comes to wrestling with our characters we always let the characters win.
They know who they are and we’re just along for the ride.

BK: Using the letters of your first name as an acronym, describe your book...

Sspace opera
Hhectic
Eentertaining
Llovable characters
Lloving each other (in a range of ways. It’s not all about the sex, people!)
Eexotic
Ywhy not?

Eerotic
Mmesmerizing
Mmarvellous
Aabsolutely amazing. Buy, buy, buy

BK: How did your writing journey begin?

With learning to talk. We’re lucky to come from an extended family of journalists and English teachers, so writing is in the genes. I think that’s true of many people and all authors probably have a shared history of creating stories from an early age!

BK: Using the letters from the word, Summer, how would friends and family describe you?

Ssmart (both of us, though some people might add ‘assto that)
Uunicorns (we can dream)
Mmysterious (cultivate it, ladies)
Mmotivated (gotta write)
Eeccentric (speaks for itself)
Rromantic (who needs cynicism. Let’s wrap the world up in a bow. And unicorns.)

BK: What is the craziest thing you've ever written about, whether it got published or not?

The sidle pougar, which was a story told by Shelley’s father that found its way into one of her children’s poems. The sidle pougar is a type of cougar that only runs around mountains in one direction, so two of its legs are shorter than the other pair. We used to pretend it was chasing us whenever we were in the mountains, but it was easy to escape. You only had to change direction and it would fall over, with its two longer legs flailing.

BK: Tell us one thing you've done in life that readers would be most surprised to know.

This question was a real sticker. It hung around long after the others, though we don’t know why, because we’re both interesting and surprising. Yes we are! Who said that? Ooh, Shelley has one. She used to work for a small, local press called Hazard as a manuscript assessor. Yes, she was working for the enemy, but she always put some encouragement, along with constructive ideas in her rejection letters.

BK: What can we expect from you in the future?

More and more. We’ve got three trilogies mapped out. Yes, that’s nine books; all set in the same multiverse, but moving between worlds of fantasy, technology and both. We really love our science-fantasy! We’ve also got a folder of ideas, including YA, so will probably be busy for a very long time.


This or That...

Coke or Pepsi? Coke.

Night Owl or Early Bird? Night owl all the way!

Fantasy or Mystery? Fantasy.

Pen/Paper or Computer? What slash what? Computers for sure. It makes writing together possible.

Pizza or Burger? Pizza. Cheese ranks almost as high as chocolate!

Rock or Country? Rock.

Chocolate or Vanilla? Really? Chocolate!!!

Beach or Mountains? A beach for Emma, as long as it’s tropical, otherwise it’s two votes for the mountains.


Thank you so much for having us as one of your stops today. It has been great getting to know more about you and your book, and hope you will come back when the next release is out (*hinthint*)

Wishing you much success!


BK Walker



Casey Lea is a mother and daughter writing team with a strong interest in science fantasy. The Casey
Lea partnership began in 1990, with the arrival of Emma Casey Frost, first daughter of Shelley Lea and Gary. Although Emma was a very precocious child, it took another fifteen years before she began working with her mother.

Shelley Lea (pronounced ‘lee’) was born on a snowy June day, near the bottom of the world, in Invercargill, New Zealand. Reluctant to supply a date of birth, she would rather claim several decades of maturity, but only a few days of actual wisdom. Those decades have covered a range of jobs, a couple of degrees (including English Lit), one great husband, plenty of travel, two gorgeous daughters, several scatty cats and one charmingly dumb dog. They’ve also included an on-going struggle to put pen to paper in any spare second. This has led to some dire poetry, some eyebrow raising children’s stories and finally to something resembling a novel. This languished in a sadly disjointed and hand written form until…

Emma Casey inherited her mother’s love of books and the ability to string two sentences together (sometimes three). She proved to be the missing link in trying to actually finish a manuscript. Younger, savvier and able to turn on a computer without causing it to explode, she picked up the book and ran with it. Emma is also studying graphic design and happily provides Casey Lea’s cover artwork.

Author Links:




Book Genre: Science Fiction/Romance
Publisher: Pegasus Press
Release Date: IceFlight – December 8th, 2013. Frostbite – TBA (March 2014)




Book Description:

The Iron Altar trilogy – The Iron Altar trilogy follows the paths of two women, one young and the other ancient beyond belief. Both are destined to die on the same altar.
One death would precipitate mass murder and destroy billions. The other sacrifice would claim only two lives – the martyr and the monster who made the Iron Altar.
Amber Grace will be that martyr, but only if she reaches the altar first. And only if she still thinks we are worth dying for…

IceFlight – Darsey Ice never thought her first trip past Jupiter would claim the lives of her crew. But then she hadn’t expected to become the first person to make contact with aliens either. Kidnapped, enslaved and lost on the Outer Rim of a mighty civilization light-years from Earth, the only person she can turn to is her enigmatic new owner.
A dishonored outcast, he is just as alone as Darsey. Exiled by his people and struggling to survive, the last thing he wants is a rebellious primitive as a slave. She complicates his efforts to hide a dangerous secret and to complete a quest that is likely to claim both their lives.

Frostbite – When the ice comes for you… When it has already taken your friends… What do you do?
Amber Grace has spent countless lives preparing for battle, but has finally run out of time. She is mortal now and can only hope that her enemy is close, that when the monster comes to devour them all, she will be ready.
All Amber has to do is hide and wait, keeping herself safe so she will be there to save everyone when death comes for them. But one thing the Universe never guarantees is safety.
Forced from hiding and trapped on the Rim with the criminal scum of every interstellar species, Amber finds herself truly living in a way she hasn’t for millennia. Suddenly her choices are more than equations and the potential of billions killed must be balanced against protecting her friends.
Amber finally dares to embrace her last life, but a single mistake costs everything she has won.
Now the ice is coming… and it’s not alone.


Excerpts:


IceFlight - In front of them a massive waterfall fell through the pyramid, a silver curtain blocking their path. It filled the entire landing and Darsey tried to stop and stare, but the floor wouldn’t let her. Instead it kept flowing forward and carried her with it. She tried to walk backwards, but the strange cushion of air accelerated to waft her faster, straight at the monstrous waterfall.
"Wing," she squeaked and her fingers found her companion's hand. She squeezed tighter than she intended, but Nightwing didn't flinch.
"It's kay. See."
Darsey stared unblinking at the silent curtain of water she was rushing toward. They hurtled into it and she grabbed Wing’s arm with her other hand, but the flow parted ahead of them. A v-shaped gap appeared above the path, looking like the ripple left by a speedboat. She had to duck her head against his shoulder to fit, but it worked.
Wing put his arm around Darsey while they slowed to a sedate drift under the weight of a ten story waterfall. Silver boiled above them and the light grew dim. The path under their feet began to glow blue and when she glanced up at the kres he looked haggard. He also looked starkly alien and she suddenly realized how familiar his strange features had become to her. She’d started to see him as just another person, but that didn’t mean he was human. Not even close.
Darsey looked away with a shudder and her spasm seemed to trigger a nightmare. The bridge under them pulsed red while a siren sounded and then the silent waterfall began to roar. She looked up just as the shield protecting them vanished.
The water fell and Darsey fell with it. The weight of a giant fist pounded her while she plummeted down into darkness and the noise was so overwhelming it seemed as solid as the water. She could hardly feel Wing’s fingers clamped tight round her wrist, but she knew they must be there because she was still alive. His com field was the only thing keeping her that way and she prayed he wouldn’t let go. Not that it really mattered, because the impact when they finally hit the bottom was going to be brutal. His shield would be overloaded and they would both die anyway.

Frostbite - Zak broke off when his words were lost in a thud and a grunt. Misty ducked her head
further from cover to see what was happening. Ace. He'd finally managed to slither from his party burrow and do some work. Impressive work too. He must have taken Zak down with a diving tackle, but the nearest cover was meters away. Not a bad leap.
Unfortunately, Zak arched hard enough to throw Ace off and they came to their feet together. Two swords appeared and they attacked each other instantly. Their blades clashed repeatedly, without pause or hesitation.
Misty stopped and stared. She had never seen such a fight. Every blow was countered and each riposte was blocked. It was like watching someone fence with a mirror. There were no advances and no retreats. The fighters stood toe-to-toe, perfectly matched. The pace increased, until their swords were a blur, but still no one broke through with a blade.
Zak decompressed a second sword and slashed at Ace recklessly, driving him toward the cliff. The clash of blades was constant as the Beserk pushed forward. Misty took half a step toward them, but Ace spun around Zak, away from the drop. He swung his sword over his shoulders to guard his back and caught the blades trying to cut him down from behind. He twisted his arms while crouching, to turn and sweep one of the weapons from Zak’s hand.
Ace leapt high, while Zak jumped too. Their swords collided and they both swung a fist as well. Ace smashed his opponent in the mouth, but a punch like an anvil glanced from his chin and he staggered. He fell to a knee, before surging upright to back away and look for the Beserk. He attacked as soon as he saw the stranger - still on his back in the dirt.
Zak sprang to his feet just in time to counter the blow, then took an unsteady step and Ace paused too, breathing heavily despite com support. The stranger used the back of his hand to wipe blood from his lips and frowned when he saw Ace wiping his own bloody mouth.
Get out of my head, snot balls.”
Glad to,” Ace sneered. “I don't usually play in garbage.”
Zak sprang forward, but this time he put his full weight behind his swing. The wild blow was a risk, but Ace was too surprised to take advantage of it. He belatedly tried to block Zak’s sword, but its momentum was too great. Both swords flew through the air and Misty jumped aside when they clattered past. Ace reached to his wrist for another blade, but was too slow. This time Zak tackled him and they went down together. They grappled with each other and rolled across the plateau toward the cliff.





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