I’m excited to reveal the cover of one of my co-authors on the Science Fiction Romance Brigade. KG Stutts’ highly anticipated sci-fi novella series, Amethyst Chronicles: Winter’s Kiss launches on November 21st. KG Stutts is the author of the Mirror series. This spin-off series takes place over a thousand years after the third in Mirror trilogy, Mirror Reformed (out January 16th).
Amethyst is a secret team of genetically enhanced humans which is Earth’s greatest defensive weapon. Leading the team of super soldiers is Ember Wilson, a tough woman with a huge chip on her shoulder. The team gets their name from the after effect of the Genesis Project which turned their eyes and even their blood purple.
For decades, Earth has been ravaged by unpredictable weather which began to cause crops to fail. Most of the planet’s food sources have deteriorated. Dr. Clayton Rudo has proclaimed he has the means to save the soil. He has created a weather machine to regulate and help replenish. But Ember knew the truth. He didn’t want to save the planet. He wanted to control it. Amethyst destroyed the machine, but was placed in stasis. Two years later, Rudo recreated the device and has frozen Washington, DC and the west coast of the United States.
General Tom Blanchard brought Amethyst out of stasis to work with an elite Air Force team, led by Major Liam Ross. Tensions between Ember and Liam rise as they butt heads. Can they work together before Earth is completely under ice?
Join the Facebook Launch Party on Friday, November 21!
About the Author:
Growing up in Texas and later South Carolina as the youngest in a house full of science-fiction fans, K.G. Stutts had her natural curiosity and imagination nurtured since birth by family movie nights where they would watch Star Wars, Indiana Jones and even timeless Disney favorites.
A prolific writer of sci-fi, romance and mystery, K.G. draws much of her inspiration from those amazing works that gave her an appreciation for telling rich, compelling, character-driven stories for all audiences. She is also a contributor to http://iwassociation.com and http://thewritingnetwork.com and is a proud member of the http://www.sfrcontests.blogspot.co.uk/
She lives in North Carolina with her husband, Brad and works for a customer service call center full time. She’s a lover of Star Wars, Star Trek (original, TNG, and Voyager), Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis, Muppets, Garfield, Disney, Indiana Jones and is a big football, wrestling, and hockey fan.
A lab technician carefully brought Ember Wilson out of stasis. Liam stood back as her team surrounded the final pod. Her violet eyes fluttered open and Liam’s hands began to shake. He couldn’t believe how stunning she was.
“What the hell?” she groaned.
“You’ll feel sick to your stomach for a moment, but it will pass,” Lewis informed her.
“My head,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. “What did that empty-headed, bureaucrat ass kisser Blanchard to do to me? How long have we been out?”
“Two years,” he replied.
“Wilson, take a second to get your bearings,” Morris said.
“You’ll feel back to normal in a moment,” Nova added.
She scanned the lab, coming to a stop the moment her eyes locked on the General. Her foot pressed against the back of the pod, her eyes wild with anger.
“You son of a bitch!” she yelled as she used her foot to launch herself in the air.
Nova and Morris caught her before she could reach Blanchard. She kicked and screamed for freedom but the duo wouldn’t budge. She jerked against the hold they had on her arms, spitting and cursing.
“I know,” Lewis calmly said as he stood in front of her. Her foot was inches from his chin when she kicked. “Hey, it’s okay. I know. But there are more pressing matters at hand than him.”
“Rudo?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“You got it.”
“You moron!” she shouted, looking over Lewis’ shoulder to Blanchard. “You had the chance to stop it before he could act but you were too much of a coward!”
“Sorry? Sorry?” Her voice was nearly shrieking. “Not yet, but you will be.”
This weekend I made progress on my WIP, The Binding. In this last book of my trilogy, things are heating up for the hero and heroine, Daeryn and Annmar. This scene is from Daeryn’s point of view:
“You have to go, I understand, but…” Her voice dropped. “I’m going to miss you.”
He pulled her to him, and not as gently as he should. “I’m going to miss you. But it will make me run faster.” Her body against his—a faint growl escaped his throat. He ran his fingers into her hair, knocking her hat and pins askew. But Annmar lifted her face, no protest on her lips.
Her lips… He bent and caught her bottom lip between his and sucked it—for just a moment before he captured both. Her hands slid up his chest and clung to his shoulders. Her honeyed vanilla scent filled his nostrils.
She sighed and pressed herself to him, her body warming his chest, his… front. Her mouth opened in a small pant. His tongue flicked to trace the smooth inner edge.
Her breath caught.
He stilled. Ah…damn.
But the next moment she tilted her head, bringing them closer. Her tongue touched his, ever-so-carefully. She explored his lips, his gaping mouth, and back to his tongue again. Soft pokes, then with the faintest of moans, her tongue swirled into his mouth—
Sweet Creator. Another rumble broke from his throat.
She laughed and nipped at his lower lip.
Thanks for reading!
I’ve decided to return to posting snippets on a regular basis. Too long between and I fall completely out of the habit! This one’s from The Binding.
The dark entrance of the small stone chapel opened to a lit nave. Annmar lifted her gaze and gasped. Pinpricks of blue light sparkled across the round room. One leaped, trailing a line of blue headed straight for her. She stumbled.
Mary Clare caught her arm. “Annmar?”
She blinked. The light had quickly faded, like a shooting star. But the twinkling of blue continued flickering up and down the stone support columns. It wasn’t just the sight from her Knack, nor a result of the sunlight angling under the roof through long… She peered upwards. “Those aren’t windows, are they?” she whispered to Mary Clare.
“Just openings. That’s why most Creator chapels have fallen to ruin. Open to the rain, thatched roofs, mud walls which paint only protects so far. Only those pillars of bluish stone have held up in most chapels. It’s crazy. I mean, who puts up a half-open building, and round at that? Those old worshipers didn’t have much sense when it came to construction.”
A warm September breeze whipped through the chapel, bringing the fresh scent of trees and earth and water to Annmar. She sighed. “It’s beautiful. The materials are—” She glanced at the other grievers around them. Someone might overhear if she told Mary Clare what she saw. “—perfect for the building. The symmetry is incredible. An old master must have designed this one.”
Mary Clare sniffed. “In Blighted Basin? I don’t think so. Can we get a seat? Daeryn is waving to us, if you haven’t noticed already?”
Thanks for reading!
I’ve featured my writer friends for a few posts now, but haven’t put out a post about my own writing journey in…longer than I want to go back and check. I’ve written at a slower pace the last year because my family property was affected by flooding in Colorado. But between travel and repairs I’ve grown a new adult novel I first called ‘The Farm’ into a trilogy. That first book is now titled ‘The Unraveling’ and the third book is in progress.
Here’s an excerpt from ‘The Binding’. The heroine, Annmar, is an artist from a Victorian city who has taken a position drawing advertising for a rural farm. In the first book she learns the local residents are shifters.
Several in the group nodded. One of the girls said, “Are we all ready?”
Was that Jac? Annmar’s gaze shot to Daeryn’s tough teammate, dressed in a fashionable brown-gold gown, complete with patent leather heels. Jac caught her look and raised a brow over one yellow eye.
“You look beautiful,” she told the wolf girl, and nodded to Jac’s cousin Maraquin, who was wearing a different design in the same fabric. “You, too. The color is stunning with your eyes and hair.”
Jac bobbed her head, and murmured, “Thank you,” a lady-like gesture Annmar certainly didn’t expect, and pulled a pair of gloves from her reticule. The mannerisms were so proper, and so unexpected from the ‘cambire Annmar had seen ruthlessly biting the neck of a crop-chewing pest the night before. She had to force her gaze back to Jac’s.
Jac was grinning. “Didn’t expect me to be able to pull it off, did you?”
“Uh…well, this is quite a change for you.”
Maraquin leaned across to whisper, “Jac’s in line to take over the central lowlands. She’s been to finishing school.”
“Which was dead boring.” Jac swiped a stray strand of hair from her brow and tucked it deftly under the tiny hat perched on the thick roll of her black hair. “And my Grandmother is nowhere close to even turning the pack over to Mother, so the lessons were mostly pointless. Let’s go now. Being late will kill the everyone’s efforts.” She linked arms with Maraquin and the two strode along the drive, their paces far too long and fast for city etiquette.
Annmar hid her smile beneath her gloved hand.
What’s it like to attend a conference with 2500 other writers? I can only speak from my experience with the Romance Writers of America National conferences:
Exhilarating, educational and exhausting.
Though a week has passed since the latest—the 34th—held in San Antonio, my head is still reeling with new ideas. Most writers leave very inspired to implement learned skills and techniques. Because I followed the conference with visiting relatives, I’ve experienced more of a reflective period. I’ve caught up on sleep and listened to additional recorded workshops—ones I couldn’t get to because so many are offered—and thought about what I heard, rather than diving into writing again.
When I first joined RWA, I attended craft workshops to improve my writing, and career sessions to learn about the publishing business. Over the last three years, workshops targeted at self-publishing have increased. This summer, many well-known names in independent publishing presented, appeared on panels, or offered question and answer sessions: Bella Andre, Barbara Freethy, Marie Force. Hugh Howey was in attendance. (I’m going to be very embarrassed if he presented and I missed it!) Three authors, Eliza Knight, Angie Fox and Deanna Chase, presented ‘How to Quietly Make Six Figures in Indie Publishing’ to a mid-sized room packed with women in business casual sitting in every seat and on the floor.
I wish I had taken photos of the audiences. Romance writers, including more men than in previous years, are re-thinking their roles in book publishing.
Industry-focused presentations included: ‘What Good is an Agent?’, ‘Is There a Case for Traditional Publishers and Agents?’, ‘Indie Success with No Publishing History’ and ‘The Hybrid Author.’ iBooks, Amazon, Kobo, CreateSpace, ACX and Audible held open houses.
I can’t even begin to list the workshops on social media and marketing. I took advantage of sessions such as how to vet an independent editor, formatting, developing your brand, and cover design.
I talked and questioned and listened. In every venue—especially the bar—an excited buzz about publishing strategies lurked. Not just getting an agent, or submitting to an editor, hoping a story would be picked. But how to manage your work in the clouds of digital press.
It’s a growing publishing world out there, writers. And the instruction book is open!