I’m so excited to tell you about my newest novella, Claude
& Amata, is coming out on October 16th. I’d like to share with
you a couple of reasons why this short
story is special to me.
One, it's more of a love story with a contemporary theme
than what I usually write. It takes place on Earth rather than on another
planet or outer space. It’s also a second chance romance I’ve been itching
to write. Not only because Claude is in his fifties, but for Amata who's loved
and lost loooong before she met Claude (about 200 years).
Second, (shh,
now don't tell anyone what I’m about to share. This has got to be our
little secret…) but
I based Claude on an old boss of mine. He was tough, shrewd, and handsome, like
Sean Connery back in the day. I'd only intended for Claude to be a minor
character when I first introduced him in the series starter Alien Legacy:
The Empath, but sometimes these folks take over no matter what your
intentions are! And believe you me, Claude had no trouble strong-arming himself
to become more than what I planned.
The best news is the Pre-Order sale going on right now. It’s
only 0.99¢ until the 17th. After that, it goes to its regular price
of $3.99.
To help
tempt you, below is a snippet from the book below. Sit back, enjoy a sip
of your favorite beverage and enjoy!
Outside
Claude's townhouse in Langley, Virginia, the icy winter wind howled and cried
throughout the evening air. Inside, the room was dark, with flickering flames
of a steady fire in the stone hearth casting dancing shadows against the deep
reds and oranges of the mahogany paneling. The crackle of the fire with its
woodsy scent brought subtle comfort to his weary mind.
He settled in his favorite leather recliner,
feet up, with a glass of Hennessy cognac in his hand. It had been months since
the attempted alien invasion ended. On the surface, things seemed to have
returned to normal. Whatever normal meant anymore.
As he stared into his cognac, he couldn't
help but reminisce about its original purpose. He had high hopes when he bought
it, that he’d be celebrating its smooth flavor with a loved one as a symbol of
something momentous. He chuckled. That all seemed pretty hollow right about
now. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and allowed the warmth of the fire and the
aroma of the rich alcohol to envelop him.
Memories of his past crept into his thoughts.
The people he used to know and the risks he'd taken for or with them. The hard
decisions he made over the years that got him where he was now. And the heavy
personal price he paid for them all.
Bottom line, he was tired. So tired.
This morning, he’d resigned
from FEAR, the First Encounter Alien Resistance section he'd overseen at the
CIA. He’d stayed on at the agency for the last six months to help Director
Obsidian (aka Jazmi Tiamat) delete as much evidence of the alien invasion as
possible. While conspiracy theories abounded, most of humanity ignored them and
went about their daily lives, none the wiser.
Then, about four weeks ago, the
director submitted her own resignation.
He guessed her pregnancy had
something to do with it. But more than likely it had to do with her being half
alien and wanting to work with those aliens from Akurn before they moved out of
Transkip range of Earth.
The CIA offered him his own directorship, but
he’d turned it down. His mind wasn’t in the game anymore. The thought of
resuming his former life held little appeal. He sat back with a grunt. No, he
was too busy pining over a woman he could never have. He closed his eyes and
visualized the last time he’d seen her.
Amata. Pale, delicate skin, alabaster-white
hair in a sassy cut that lovingly framed her jawline. Her intelligent,
blue-green eyes belied her innocent-looking features. She appeared as if she
was in her early to mid-twenties.
But he knew she was much, much older.
He’d asked her about her age once.
Her only response was a mysterious smile with
a brief explanation of how her lifespan was connected to her planet’s orbit and
not Earth’s. She then whispered, “Every woman has to have some secrets.”
“Honestly, Claude. I can’t believe you’re
just sitting there mooning over a woman and not going after her.” A soft
feminine chuckle. “That’s so unlike you.”
Everything within him stilled. He hadn’t had
a dream about his late wife Barbara in a long time. After she’d died years ago
of brain cancer, he used to dream about her all the time. If he was the
romantic type, he’d give in to the notion her spirit visited him.
“Barbara. Where have you been?” He grabbed
the plain gold wedding band around his left finger and rolled it. That nervous
habit was hard to break. Was he reacting like this because Barbara was here, or
because he hadn’t thought of her since meeting the enticing Amata?
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