Monday Mash-Up Yardanians

The Yardanians is a 3 book set, a dark and steamy scifi.
Each book ends with a statement about the characters involved and what’s to be expected. Here are the ending statements.

So ends ‘The Yardanians, Book One, Betrayed’, where Aubrey’s defiance of her forced servitude to Rahzahn turns into a passionate love for him instead. In ‘Book Two, Consort’, a surprising source helps foster Rahzahn and Aubrey’s love, but Rahzahn must make a difficult decision involving Gardash that will dramatically affect the lives of all three.

So Ends Book Two, Consort, where Aubrey experienced a significant change in her station and life with Gardash. Look for Book Three, Abandoned. Gardash will play an increasingly important role in Aubrey’s survival and the future of Yardasia. A situation will arise where Rahzahn, Aubrey, and Gardash will be forced to accept their inescapable futures.

So ends the tale of eternal love between Aubrey, Rahzahn, and Gardash, a love brought about by destiny. We can never know what lies ahead and what our fates will be, can we?

What do you think? Interested in reading this series? Let me know.

Sunday Snapshot

From Book 2 Consort, The Yardanians

I reside in a hidden community right here on Earth, exiled by my own government, only hours away from my human neighborhood in the U.S.A. I’m here because I made a rash decision one summer day that tore me away from my family and forced me into servitude to an alien.
Before I stumbled onto the Yardanians, I lived pampered and sheltered in the suburb of a major city for the first twenty-three years of my life. My parents were the best and doted on my sister and me, and so we never lacked for anything.
In my junior year at high school, I met Bill. We were young and in love and after we graduated, we married immediately. He spoiled me, working extra hours to see that I had all the comforts he could provide.
We were blessed with two children, Jaden and Violet. Jaden would be 5-years-old now and Violet 3-years-old. I was happy and content as a wife and mother. Bill was a salesman for a nationwide furniture supply company and he worked hard to support us and ensure that we lacked for nothing.
This past summer, I had gone with my friend Lucy to a mall that had just opened in a city not far from my home to exchange a backpack. Lucy and I got into an arguement over the amount of time the store was taking and she drove off leaving me behind.
I should have called Bill to come get me, but instead, I stormed off on foot along an unfamiliar road in the late summer afternoon heat and heavy humidity. That road forked into two other roads. Without a clue of where I was going, I just chose one at random and headed in that direction.
That road led me to other roads, and I kept selecting one after another. I was too stubborn to turn back and I couldn’t remember how I got to where I was. I was lost, but I kept going. I expected that Lucy was looking for me and would eventually find me. That simple error in judgement changed my life forever.
Even though I was lost, dehydrated, and sunburned, I willfully trudged forward. I came upon a deserted area with bright yellow danger signs set a few feet apart that warned of radiation leakage, but I ignored them.
I had become dizzy and I tripped then tumbled over a ravine. I picked myself up and continued on, desperate to find help and in need of medical attention. That’s when I stumbled into the concealed colony.
The aliens, from the planet Yardasia reported finding me, but the U.S. Ambassador Stevens, in order to cover up his blunder, banished me from my country instead of letting my family know I was alive. And so I became the only servant of the Yardan Prince Rahzahn.

Love, honor, and respect to all.

Thursday Threads

From ‘The Yardanians’ book three, ‘Abandoned’

The thought of unrestricted humans waiting to welcome me and no Rahzahn or Gardash to protect me was terrifying. My assistants sensed my fear and moved closer to me.
We were led into the living room. The heavy dark azure drapes on the front window were drawn shut shielding us from the outside. The furniture was old and had a musty and dusty smell. The house itself reeked of humans and creaked when we walked.
I scanned the crowded room. I recognized only Bill, who smiled at me, tears flowing over both his cheeks. I bowed my head to him and tried to smile, but my lips quivered.
Across from me farther back were two video cameras recording. The military men behind them watched us inquisitively, but both gave me slight nods. Perhaps Momo’s men? The entire group stood when we entered, and a sea of faces gawked at us in trepidation. Many watched my handmaidens with mistrust and fear. Imia and Pinia drew their knives. No-one moved. Then one shaky voice broke the silence.
“Hi ya, mom.” The soft-spoken male choked on his words. He spoke in English and Jim translated. He would translate everything said between the group and us.
I looked towards the voice where a young man stood, rubbing one hand nervously along his pant leg, holding a vase of red roses, trying to smile, but tears escaped down his face and his lips trembled. “Geez, this is harder than I thought.” His face was filled with love.
This man was my little Jaden? He appeared to be six feet tall. He looked nothing like the 5-year-old plump playful boy from long ago, but his expression was just like Tilmun’s and he had a heart-shaped face too. I was overcome with emotion for him and tears slid down my face before I could control them. “My Jaden?” I asked. My jaw trembled.
“Yep. That’s me.”
“He’s your son?” asked Imia. I nodded yes. “He’s the image of a much younger you. His eyes and shape of his face….” She whispered in my ear the same thought I had about Tilmun. I nodded.
“Bring him to me,” I said to her. “I will embrace him.”
Imia approached him and held out her hand. He accepted apprehensively. “Humans, do not move,” said Imia. “The consort only wishes to greet her son. No-one else is permitted near her.”
Pinia moved closer to me as Jaden grasped me in a tight hug. “Mom.” He kissed my cheek. “Welcome home.” He sobbed, holding me for a long time. “I never believed you were dead.” He handed me the roses. “Twenty-five, one for each year that you were gone. In a heart-shaped vase. You still like hearts?”
I hugged him again and kissed both his cheeks as my tears flowed freely. “Hearts have much meaning to me still. Thank you, my son.” I handed the vase to Pinia, who set it on the floor.
Jaden couldn’t hold back another sob. “God, I’ve missed you.”
More tears struggled to escape, but I forced them back. After all, I represented my king. With a slight bow of my head, I said, “And I’ve missed all of you more than I realized.”
Imia led him back to his seat then returned to me, standing protectively at my side. He nervously wiped away the tears and sniffed while the rest of the room remained silent. “This is my wife Charlotte,” he said.
“Hi,” said Charlotte nervously. “Jaden talks so much about you that I feel I know you. My mother died when I was a child too, so…but you’re not…I mean―”
“Hello Charlotte. I’m pleased to meet you,” I said in Yardanish with my head bowed. “Jaden, you’ve grown into a handsome man and your wife is lovely. I see the devotion between you two and I’m delighted that you found the right partner for you. Are you happy?”
Jaden patted his wife’s huge belly. “I am, especially today. We’re expecting a girl any time now. We’re going to name her Aubrey Marie after you and Charlotte’s mother. I wasn’t sure she should come today, but she wanted to support me and meet you. I’m told I look a lot like you. I hope our daughter is the image of you too.”
My anxieties faded away as I talked with my son. “So sweet of you, my Jaden. Thank you, Charlotte, for loving him. These are my handmaidens, Imia and Pinia. They have looked after me since the beginning.”
“You and your handmaidens are beautiful women,” Jaden said. “You look exotic, mom.”
They bowed their heads. “Thank you, human,” said Imia.
“I’m a human female,” I said. “They’re Yardan women. You must honor the distinction.”
“My mistake. Beautiful Yardanians,” said Jaden with a smile to them.
“Her pouch is huge,” said Pinia. “How many babies are in there?”
“Human women don’t develop pouches,” I explained. “There is only one baby, a girl, growing inside. We grow our babies for nine months.”
“Inside!” said Imia. “Nine months! How can the baby breathe? What a huge baby. I’d be surprised if both survive.”
The visitors listened attentively.

Love, Honor, and Respect to all

Wednesday WIP

I’ve been working on a new short story that may end up being a novella.
Here are a few excerpts:

Zaizal the Nihtebairn

Like the rest of our neighbors, we were aware of the internment camps cropping up across the country. As a matter of fact, there was one not too far away from us, and trucks would roll past all hours of the day and night.
The government wasn’t clear about who was interred or why, but signs posted along that road warned us to keep away. Rumors pointed towards illegal immigrants, hardened criminals, suspects on a watchlist, or all of the above, so why would we even want to go near it?
Mostly, no-one in my town gave much thought about what was going on anywhere else. We had our own lives to run, and if our government needed those camps for the unworthy, then why should we get involved?

Just as I neared my house, I heard the squeal of tires. A black van skidded to a stop right next to me. The side door opened and a man jumped out and, grabbing me, he tossed me into the van before I could even scream. The van was dark inside and I tumbled down on several people. I started to stand, but he threw me down again.
“Sit,” he demanded.
As the van continued on its way, I tried to get up again, but a woman wrapped her arms around me, one hand over my mouth. “Say nothing and don’t move,” she whispered, terror in her voice. “They killed the others who tried. Their bodies lay among us.”

I caught sight of the bat scurrying down. It ended up hanging upside down next to me. Its clawed feet were spread out and clung to the brick wall. One wing fluttered while he held out a roll and a bottle of water in his other clawed hand.
The creature was easily six feet tall, but more human than mammal. The husky size alone was frightening. I took the food and water cautiously then looked curiously at it. I attempted to smile. It was a male; that was easy enough to see; and I blushed when I noticed.
His fur was dark brown, including his face, but his wings were black and leathery as were his legs. His fingers and toes were long thick grey claws. His round eyes did resemble an eagle’s, with black pupils surrounded by a golden yellow. He had a snout that puffed air in and out. His mouth was shut tight.
He stared intently at me and then motioned to the children. I broke the rolls and was about to hand them the food and water, but he stopped me. Taking back a piece of a roll, he placed half near my mouth and I accepted, chewing gratefully. He held the water to my lips and I took a few sips then shook my head no. He let the children finish the bottle and eat.

I’d love to read your comments.

Love, honor, and respect to all

My Tic in Betrayed

Every book I write, I develop a certain bad habit and it follows me throughout the novel.

In Betrayed, the word is ‘it’. This pronoun can make a sentence passive instead of active and become a terrible tic.

I find I use the word when I’m in a hurry to get my sentences down, but in my rush the sentence can become ambiguous.

It, it’s, its – many can be refined into better sentences.
Let’s look at some of these in my WIP Betrayed:

Ugh. Rahzahn would find this amusing, but if it saved my life and the queen’s, I’d play along, so I translated.

Possible rewrite: Ugh. Rahzahn would find this amusing. However I decided to play along for the sake of my life and the queen’s, so I translated.

He stomped over, picked it up, and tossed it to me.

Possible rewrite: He stomped over, picked up my gown, and tossed it to me.

“Not funny. It still stings.”

Possible rewrite: “Not funny. My butt still stings.”

…I’m sure it will grieve you to witness how I really kiss.”

Possible rewrite: I’m sure to upset you when you witness how I really kiss.”

But instead Rahzahn punched Gardash in the face. “Take Aubrey home.”
“My pleasure, as it always is. Or should I say, for my pleasuring?”

Possible rewrite: “My pleasure, as always. Or should I say, for my pleasuring?”

What’s your tic in your latest WIP?

The Yardanians Book One Betrayed

What would you do if you stumbled on a secret alien community that thought you were lesser than they? How alone would you feel? How well could you cope when you were told you could never leave, that you must become a servant for life? Would you beg? Cry? Try to run away?

That’s the situation Aubrey found herself in. Just a normal day at the mall, but a bad decision that changed her life forever.

Here is an excerpt from chapter one:

I don’t know what happened. Maybe I tripped again. Maybe I blacked out. All I remember is that I stumbled against a low cement blockade that separated the road from the sheer drop and somehow I tumbled over and down, getting caught in the loose chicken wire. I rolled across rebar, nails, thistles, broken branches, sticks, and sticky old garbage, unable to stop myself. Finally, my forehead rammed into a boulder at the bottom and my body landed at a weird angle. I was going to be tender everywhere tomorrow.
I fought my way out of the chicken wire and although guilt-ridden over my stupidity, I turned away from a sign that warned this was the nuclear dump. Two broken signs lay next to me. They read, ‘Nuclear Waste Below’ and ‘High Radiation Levels’. Great.
My blouse was ripped down one side with several large holes as I worked to free myself and remove debris. I brushed off my denim skirt that was covered in mud and dirt. Then I yanked out a bloody rusty nail that was stuck in the side of my shoe. I gasped at the pain and wiped the blood off my arch with a piece of my skirt. The other shoe had come unglued around the sole, so I carried them. At least the cool grass wouldn’t burn my feet.
My arms and legs were bleeding, my head was pounding, the middle of my back hurt badly, and the moment I touched a sore spot on my forehead I found a lovely goose egg that had me seeing stars.
My entire body complained and I imagined I was also quite bruised and grimy. If I hadn’t struggled against gravity, I might not be in this condition. And if I didn’t end up in a hospital, what a story to share with my friends, a real show and tell tale.
I stood up, but as soon as I did, my hearing and sight faded briefly, and then I became woozy. The humidity and heat were worse. I wasn’t good at science, but didn’t heat rise? Shouldn’t I feel cooler down here? Dusk was setting in. Shouldn’t that have made the day cooler?
I tried to look up the hill, but a bout of vertigo made my head spin. I glanced around at my surroundings. I was in a field of thick dark green grass, waist-high, that waved in the balmy breeze. That meant water had to be nearby, didn’t it? The welcomed breeze brushed across my hot skin and the lush grass in the muddy ground cooled my feet. I took in a deep breath and smelled corn and berries. Surely families lived nearby. The warning signs had to be old. Nothing this lush could be a nuclear dump site or I would have seen something on TV.
I walked on, barefoot, or I should say, limped, as my sore foot throbbed with each tedious step. Climbing back up the hill was not possible in my condition, but in soil this fertile, there had to be a river where I could soak my feet or a crop irrigation system to cool me off. I’d ask for a glass of water and to use a phone.
I’m sure I was quite the sight in a ripped and torn gossamer blouse soaked from sweat and stuck to my skin. If any passersby happened along, they’d see right through to my body, but that might make someone stop and ask if I needed help. My grimy skirt swayed as I plucked garbage and twigs out of my hair, hobbling along barefoot, and over-all scrungy. I was tired, thirsty, sunburned, and my lips were dry and cracked.
The humidity and high heat made me lightheaded, but I trudged on wobbling when I spotted farms just ahead. Yes! Surely, someone would give me water and let me use their phone to call Bill. Why wouldn’t they? I was right. The radiation signs were old. I was going to be fine.
Unpainted wooden-poled fences defined the plot of one farm from another. What a wonderful sight I had stumbled upon. I followed the dirt road past a dark brown two-storied wooden house.
Why didn’t I go to that first house? Because I noticed a stream up ahead and I only thought of wading and drinking. I didn’t even consider the possibility that the water might have contained bacteria. I just desperately wanted to quench my thirst, douse myself in the water, and clench the cool muddy bottom with my aching feet.
When I reached the stream, I noticed a farmer ahead bent over working his field. He was wearing blue shorts with, of all things, a long black fur coat underneath in this unbearable. Eccentric, but not my concern. I needed help. A wooden fence divided his property from the house I had just passed, and his parcel sat up about two feet from the stream. I started across the stream to crawl up the small incline, thrilled to find help.
Naturally, I slipped on debris in the stream and ended up face down in the water. Bill often joked that I was queen of the klutzes and I am.
I was drenched. At least the water cooled me off, but I became light-headed again and, silly as it seems now, I feared I’d drown.
With great effort, I crawled over the muddy embankment, slipping and sliding until I got a good hold of the ground then clambered quickly up the incline in a panic. Just as I reached my hands out to the fence to crawl through, I was grabbed from behind.
The arms that seized me weren’t human, but long and muscular and black, thickly covered in short gummy hairs. The hands had four long digits and a shorter one, similar to ours, but black and hairy with black pointed fingernails. The palms and inner sides of the fingers were hairless and padded, reminding me of a dog’s paws. The monster held me tight and its physique was the same as its arms – burly and covered in profuse short hairs that poked through the back of my wet blouse.
I screamed, but my throat was raw and barely a sound came out. I tried again, but only a weak moan escaped. The creature ran with me back towards the house that I’d passed. I kicked, flailing my legs ridiculously, hoping to hurt some fragile spot while I also scratched uselessly at the face. It didn’t react at all, just dashed in the house and up the stairs and then tossed me roughly on a bed in a stifling room the size of my master closet.
I gawked, traumatized by the hideousness of the monster who glared back at me. There was no fear in the eyes, only wariness. Short black hairs covered the round face and showed no damage from my clawing.
The mouth, shaped like a human’s with rose colored lips, emitted a snarl that showed a row of pointy teeth. Above the upper lip were brownish black whiskers like a mustache. The entire face was the same as the body – short black hairs, well groomed. Huge black lucent orbed-eyes, similar to some insects remained still, but I had the impression the being had a wide range of sight. Thick dark eyebrows moved up and down above the eyes. I wondered if the entity were thinking, scowling, or afraid. The weird creature leaned in and as the bulbous eyes stared, I saw my shocked reflection in them.
The viscous face hairs had been trimmed to the same length while the rest of the body’s hairs were different lengths, yet brushed and styled. The ears were curved like ours, but covered with those short hairs along the outside. Where our inner ears were flesh colored, its ears were black, and they moved back and forth like when an animal listens to a rhythm.
I was breathing in and out rapidly and I realized that its ears were reacting to my breathing. Longer, thicker, straight reddish black hair, waistlength and similar to human head hair, was brushed sleekly from the forehead down the back, behing the ears held in place by some sort of tie at the neck.
The being was tall, taller than my husband, and Bill is 6-feet. I guessed the beast was near 7-feet and wore only a multi-pocketed blue cotton bibbed shorts with straps that hooked in front. Attached to the center was a silver coin with a well-defined black zigzag engraved, like a backwards Z.
A closer glimpse at the body showed that the short hairs appeared silky and that this being was definitely well-built and toned. The shoeless feet were large and flat, with the same short hairs and three thick plain black toes. From the ends protruded small but sharp black claws.
Was I delusional? Perhaps I was unconscious, still at the bottom of the hill. I blinked then squinted at the thing hoping I was hallucinating, but the creature was real. I decided that I had either stumbled upon an alien community or everyone here had been affected by radiation. Or maybe I was hallucinating. Yes, definitely I was dehydrated and hallucinating. I shut my eyes again, but when I opened them, there stood the creature, grimacing at me.
The entity inspected me slowly, dwelling on my wet chiffon blouse and my chest, but then yelled at me in some weird language. Couldn’t it tell that I was hurting badly? That I wasn’t one of its kind? What would look so different from humans and possess that level of intelligence except an alien. Definitely. A male alien. I wasn’t hallucinating or delirious. This was reality. I never believed extra-terrestrials existed, but here one stood in front of me. I had to escape. I had to warn our government.
We stared in curiosity at each other, both of us scrutinizing one another. The eyes went back to my chest and I realized it was looking through my wet blouse at my lacy bra. I wrapped my arms across me. It frowned at me, took out a black box from one of its many pockets and punched three buttons then yelled into the hand-sized object.
That’s all I remembered before I passed out. I came to when the strange brute tried to get me to drink a gooey inky liquid. I refused to open my mouth, and we struggled. I shoved the drink away, spilling it across the bed. That act enraged this thing.
The beast ripped the sheet off and stomped to a drawer, retrieved a clean one, and fluffed it on the bed, throwing the stained one aside then tossing me from one side of the bed to the other as it fixed the new sheet, oblivious to my yelps. Obviously, gentleness wasn’t one of this alien’s attributes.

Tuesday Tidbits

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and believe me, I’ve missed your blog posts and sharing my own blogs with you. I’m grateful for every one of you, my friends.

Betrayed:

I’ve been working on my dark and steamy Scifi for quite awhile and I’m in the process of editing and rewriting.

(I’m still working on the covers, so I have none to post yet)

Here are 3 random sentences and paragraphs from each of the 3 books:

Book 1 Betrayed:

“Such well-shaped legs,” said Rahzahn. “How I enjoy them. We sit like this every evening…naked, of course. She soothes me and I soothe her, which we both find pleasing.” He took his time fixing my hair, running his hands through it, then put his arm around my waist and snuggled me to him, kissing my cheek. “So soft. Why shouldn’t I enjoy her?”

Bill jumped up. “Get your filthy paws off her.” The Yardan guards hissed and moved towards him.

Book 2 Consort:

“Quiet, woman. We’re here to rescue you,” said one of the men. “Quit fighting us.”

The bathroom stunk of Bill and human toiletries. The music and the familiar odors in the house overwhelmed me, and I was torn between my love for Rahzahn and being in the comfort of the home where I had once lived as a mother and a wife. I glanced in the mirror. I didn’t look anything like my old self. I had changed.

Book 3 Abandoned:

“Where are you going?” he asked. “You can’t escape.”

Gardash looked pained and stared out the window. He spoke softly. “She gave no sympathy. Instead, she ordered me to appear before her. The guards located me at Rahzahn’s and dragged me to her. She gleefully stated that she finally had me all to herself; that I was required to perform for her even more often. I was compelled to at that moment and throughout that day even though I was badly wounded and grieving. I begged her to give me time to mourn. She forbade me to mention any of my family. She owned me heart and soul now, she stated.”

The holidays are soon upon us. Check out ‘Gingerbread Castle’, children’s book about a castle made of gingerbread and the fun things inside just for children.
gc gingerbread castle w candies cover

Love, honor, and respect to all of you, my friends.