Showing posts with label Promo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Promo. Show all posts

Monday, February 3, 2014

Entangled is turning 2!

Two years ago this February, Entangled launched our first category imprint with Indulgence. The Marriage Bargain, one of our first releases in Indulgence, went on to be one of the top selling books of 2012 and catapulted Jennifer Probst to the USA Today and NY Times bestseller lists.  Since then, we’ve grown to have six category romance imprints, as well as single title books for teens and adults in our Select, Edge, and Teen imprints, and have had multiple USA Today and NY Times bestsellers.  It’s been a wild two years!
We’re celebrating!  All month long, our February new releases, as well as select titles on our Steals and Deals page, are just 99 cents! 
Yes, you read that right. Every new release will be offered at an introductory price of just 99 cents!
Be sure to join our big Facebook celebration from February 24th-28th with scavenger hunts, authors, games, gossip, and lots of fun!
Explore our new website and prepare to find romance, because we have something for everyone  and join our “Steals and Deals” newsletter.
We appreciate you and want readers to be able to fill up their eReaders all month long with great books at introductory prices.  Thank you for an amazing first two years.  This is just the beginning.
 
~The Entangled ‘Love’ Team

Friday, November 29, 2013

{Promo} Fragile Brilliance by Tammy Blackwell

Series: Shifters & Seers #1
Publication date: November 26, 2013
ISBN: 9781493658
Synopsis  
Maggie McCray has worked her whole life for the opportunity to attend Sanders College. It’s her one chance at becoming a world-renowned artist, and she’s determined nothing will get in her way. But when a murder brings Maggie and her powers to the attention of the Alpha Pack and the tragically handsome Charlie Hagan, her carefully planned future hangs in jeopardy.

Charlie Hagan isn’t happy when the Alpha Female assigns him as Maggie McCray’s personal bodyguard. Just being near the Thaumaturgic threatens to unleash the primal instincts he’s been suppressing for so long. Charlie knows if the coyote is uncaged, then the person he’ll most need to protect Maggie from is himself.

Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Sonata by Blair McDowell




Publisher: Rebel Ink Press
ISBN: 9781937265670
Purchase Link: http://www.blairmcdowell.com/Sonata.html

Book Description:
A jewel heist…
When renowned concert artist, Sayuri McAllister, returns to the west coast of Canada after an absence of five years, she discovers her family home has been a broken into and jewelry worth two million dollars is missing. Michael Donovan, Sayuri’s old high school flame, now a detective with the Vancouver Police Department, is the officer in charge of the case.
What chance can he have…
Michael takes one look at Sayuri and falls in love with her all over again. But they parted in anger years ago and Sayuri is no longer the innocent girl he once knew. What chance can there be for a Vancouver cop with someone as famous as Sayuri McAllister? Especially when that cop is investigating her family and friends?
An unexpected marriage…
Then Sayuri’s widowed father, Sean, marries Alyssa James, a woman Sayuri has never even met. The three live uneasily together in the Point Grey mansion until the unexpected arrival of Alyssa’s brother, Hugh James, a devastatingly handsome, charming Irishman who immediately begins a campaign to bed and wed the  delicious and wealthy Sayuri.
Things take a dangerous turn…
Accidents begin to happen. Or are they accidents? Nothing is as it seems. Michael distrusts Hugh James and fears that Sayuri’s life may be in danger.

Short Excerpt: 
The following excerpt takes place the first time that Sayuri goes to Michael’s apartment.
As they went down in the elevator and across to the park, Michael spoke to the dog, “So far so good. We’ve got her in my apartment. I expect your full cooperation tonight. Whatever happens you are not to climb on the bed, should I get so lucky, or slobber all over Sayuri. If there’s any slobbering to be done, I’ll do it. Got it, buddy?”
Buttercup wagged her tail furiously, nearly knocking over a passing pedestrian.
“Sorry, mam.”
Michael thought about how Sayuri had looked when she answered the door. So cool and composed. Delectable. Good enough to eat. Down boy, he reminded himself. Don’t blow it now. You’ve got her this far.
Taking a deep breath he muttered, “Keep it cool.” Then he looked at his dog. “Okay, Buttercup, do your thing so we can get back up there.”
****
She heard the key in the lock and a moment later man and dog were back in the room. Buttercup trotted over to Sayuri and leaned against her, looking up at her adoringly with one blue and one brown eye.
“That was quick,” Sayuri commented as she scratched the dog behind her ears.
“She was anxious to get back to you. We don’t often have visitors. Actually, I’m surprised at her reaction to you. She usually hides under the bed when there’s anyone she doesn’t know in the apartment.”
“Under the bed? I can’t believe she can get all that bulk under a bed. Just what kind of dog is she? I’ve never seen anything like her. She’s huge. And those eyes are amazing.”
Sayuri moved to the armchair and sat down. Buttercup followed her and put her massive head in Sayuri’s lap.
“Clearly she’s fallen in love with you. The vet thought she was probably half Malamute and half Newfoundland, but I’m pretty sure there’s some wolf in the mixture. And the two different color eyes are unusual, but they do happen, particularly in those breeds.”
“Did you say wolf?”
“Watch.” Michael came over to the dog, knelt down beside her and put his arm around her. He lifted his head back and started to howl. The dog threw her head straight back and joined him. The sound was at one and the same time musical and eerie.
“Wow.” Sayuri stared at the dog. “I haven’t heard anything like that since I was twelve years old and went on a canoeing trip up Desolation Sound with my father. We could hear the wolves from our campsite every night. I loved the sound.”
“Don’t let her howl give you any ideas about Buttercup’s personality. Her wolf genes begin and end with her howl. She’s a complete wimp.”
“She’s a big dog for an apartment dweller.”
“Yes, well, I didn’t exactly choose her. She just sort of happened.” Michael paused. You
see, I’m in the R.A.A. Unit.”
“R.A.A.?”
“Robbery, Assault, Arson. We got an anonymous call that there was a break and enter in progress at an apartment house on the east side. When my partner and I answered the call, we didn’t find a robbery in progress. What we found was found a room full of people cutting and bagging cocaine. We called immediately for backup, but before it could come, gun fire was exchanged and people got hurt. It wasn’t supposed to have happened that way.”
Michael paused and frowned. Sayuri wondered if he was going to say anything more.
Then he sighed. “When it was all sorted out, as we were to leaving the scene I heard whimpering. I pulled this small scrawny shivering mass of matted fur out from under the bed. I was supposed to take her to the SPCA, but I didn’t. I took her home with me. She couldn’t have been more than two months old and she was half starved and filthy. I fed her and bathed her and the next day I took her to the vet for a checkup. He said there was nothing wrong with her that food and love wouldn’t cure.”
“So you had a dog.”
“I had a dog. I had no idea at the time she was going to grow into a giant hairy mammoth.” This was spoken with obvious affection as he ruffled the dog’s head.
“But her name?”
“Just look at her.”
Sayuri studied the dog. She had fur as thick as a bear’s, only longer. Her underbelly was white and everywhere else she was brown and black and white in large splotches. “I don’t get it.”
“Look under her chin.”
Sayuri laughed. “Of course.” There was a large spot of bright yellow there.
The dog, tired of being the object of so much attention, moved to the fireplace, circled three times and plopped down in front of it.

About the Author:
I started to write soon after I found my first pencil. But I began to write for publication about 30 years
ago -- professional books. I wrote six of them, all still in print and still in use. Only lately have I turned to
fiction. I'd have done it a lot sooner if I'd had any idea how much fun it was!
I’ve lived in many different places. The US -- Certain cities call to me. I love San Francisco and Seattle and
the wonderful Oregon Coast. Australia -- among the most open welcoming people in the world, and a wide open young country with incredible land and sea scapes, with amazing animal and bird life right out of science fiction. Canada -- HOME. The place where I belong.
I travel a lot. I usually spend the month of October in Europe, Greece or Italy, and the winter in a little house I built many years ago on a small non-touristy Caribbean Island. I have worked and studied in many places -- Hungary, Australia the US and Canada, and have spoken in most of the States and Provinces as well as Taiwan and various cities in Europe. I enjoy being surrounded by cultures other than my own. I enjoy my own as well -- but variety is indeed the spice of my life.
I keep busy -- and I love my life. I love meeting the people who come here to the west coast of Canada and stay in my B&B. I love traveling after the tourist season is over. And I love writing. 
My interests?? Music, especially opera, reading everything in print, and Writing. And walking on the beach and swimming. At one point I had hoped to swim in every major sea and ocean. I've realized that may not be possible in one lifetime -- but trying has been fun!






Friday, November 30, 2012

North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus by Candace Jane Kringle {Promo}



North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus
Genre: YA teen romance/humor/fantasy
Publisher: elfpublished books
ISBN: 978-0615681917
Cover Artist: Jessica Weil

Book Description:
MEET SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD CANDYCANE CLAUS. She's the most popular girl at North Pole High. Her father is world-famous. And every day is Christmas. What more could any girl want?
BOYS! And the new boy, Rudy Tutti, is hot chocolate. But he hates anything to do with Christmas!
When Candy and Rudy are forced to work together on a school Christmas-tree project, her world is turned upside down: Her grades start to suffer, she loses her taste for ice cream, and now the two North-Star-cross'd teens must contend with her overprotective father — Santa Claus — before Christmas is ruined for EVERYONE!





EXCERPT 
GROUNDED
Thirty-two tiny hooves clippity-clopped up the walkway alongside two heavy boots. My whole body quivered. I’d been waiting alone in the dark, empty stable for over an hour, sitting in front of the storage space under the sink where I sometimes used to hide when I was little, wishing I could still fit—my father might be making me live out here from now on.
I shuffled outside to help unhook the reindeer’s harnesses and guide them into their stalls. The pits of Daddy’s coat were stained with perspiration from walking the girls home. Neither of us said a word. I waited for him to break the silence, then decided an apology would sound more sincere if offered before being demanded.
“I’m really, super-duper sorry, Daddy.”
He kept tending to the animals as if he hadn’t heard me. Then he made a heavy sigh and, without looking at me, as if he were talking to Cupid instead, said, “In over a hundred years, I have never had to pick up my reindeer from an impound lot.”
He went back to filling Cupid’s water bowl.
I’d never felt so small.
“Look at Blitzen!” Daddy’s face turned purple. His eyes widened as if they had a mind to shoot out of his head and spank me. “She’s shaking! These deer need to be in tip-top shape! I have a mall tour coming up.”
I deserved to be scolded, even though it seemed kind of pointless since the things he was yelling at me were not things I didn’t know. As he bellowed about my foolish irresponsibility, I couldn’t help but remember how proud I’d been of my dad the first time I got to go with him on a mall tour—his annual visit to every department store in the world, where he finds out what you all want for Christmas. My father, at his best. He so loves getting out there in front of all the good little children, it shines from him as if his soul were composed on a Lite-Brite set.
I sometimes envied the attention he lavished on all those kids during all those business trips. Kids he barely knew. Then this one time, at the Millenia Mall, a little girl named Kimberly told me how lucky I was to have the coolest guy for a dad all year round. To her, he was a rock star, and it was easy to see why.
“It was so stupid of me to take the sleigh,” I told him. “I don’t blame you for being mad at me.”
Daddy tore off his gloves and whipped them to the ground so fast it made me shudder, along with half the reindeer. “That right there is what angers me the most. That you want to protect that miscreant sleigh thief. He has dragged you down so low you don’t even know which way is Christmas anymore.”
“But Daddy, I’m the one who took the sleigh. Rudy had nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t you lie to me. I am still your father. It’s not too late for you to wind up on the Naughty List too, young lady.”
Sweet Nicholas! He’d never threatened to N-List me before. He’d never even joked about it. Nobody born in the North Pole, let alone of Claus blood, had ever come close to making the List. It just didn’t happen.
Daddy parked his jumbo butt on a wooden stool and ran his fingers through his beard. “Your mother thought I was being too hard on you over the incident with your grades,” he said. “She thinks I should butt out of your ‘private affairs’.” He made air quotes and sneered like the words were choking him. “Boys, she meant. Well, look where boys have gotten you so far.”
He popped a handful of jelly beans in his mouth and kept lecturing while he chewed. “…No, in truth it appears you require even more discipline. I was prepared to let you come with me on my mall tour this year, but now,” he blinked for dramatic effect, “I’m afraid that can’t happen.”
My reaction was the last thing either of us expected. It started with a laugh, but that didn’t hurt his ego enough. “Good!” I shouted. “It’s boring going to malls with you. You only pay attention to those brats who line up begging you for toys. You think they idolize you, but you’re just buying their love, and I don’t want any part of that. I’m sick of being a Claus!”

About the Author:
Candace Jane Kringle is a junior at North Pole High. She likes candy canes, unicorn races, and making snow angels. Her father is the most well-known and beloved toymaker and distributor in the world. Her memoir, North Pole High: A Rebel Without a Claus, is her first book. After high school, she plans to enroll at North Pole University and write more books.








Thursday, November 15, 2012

Perseverance: A Zombie Tale by James Lacey {Promo}



Publisher: 23 House Publishing 
Genre: Horror


Book Description
It didn't happen the way it was supposed to...
I am a teacher. At least, I was before it all happened, before I was forced to survive. I taught social studies at the high school. I was also the coach of the school's successful debate team. It was a cold Saturday in January when I heard the first rumor of trouble...
You know, pop culture had defined the zombie apocalypse time and time again, all coming from the minds of horror writers, film producers, and video game designers. Who knew that when it really happened, it wouldn't be anything like they all predicted. Oh sure, the dead reanimated, and they were certainly hungry for living flesh...but what were the mysterious red-eyes, zombies that moved faster than their stumbling counterparts and seemed to not only communicate, but to exert some kind of control over the others.

"James Lacey takes the classic zombie story that we all know and love, and then twists it off into the new directions and unexplored territory. Perseverance is fresh, exciting, and edge-of-the-seat spell-binding."
- Samantha Murphy, 13 Nights of Blood: Legends of the Vampire


Book Excerpt: 

It is close at hand...
Blow ye the trumpet in Zion, and sound an alarm in my holy mountain:
let all the inhabitants of the land tremble: 
for the day of the LORD cometh, for it is nigh at hand;
A day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of clouds and of thick darkness,
as the morning spread upon the mountains:
 a great people and a strong; there hath not been ever the like, neither shall be any more after it, even to the years of many generations.

A fire devoureth before them; and behind them a flame burneth:
the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wilderness; 
yea, and nothing shall escape them.
Joel 2:1-3

When it happened I was excited – at first. I was a fan of the movies, the books, the games...all of it. So when those first reports came on the television and hit the net I was probably the most excited person on the planet. I mean, you always wonder “what if” when you see it in films, but then to have it actually happen, it really gets you going. That is, until they’re banging on your front door. Or the door of someone you really, truly care about. Someone you love.
That is when the excitement fades to fear. The fear can turn to horror. But right before that there is a brief moment where human instinct takes over and you choose to either fight or run. You don’t think, you just act. That is how I’m still alive. And it is probably why she is dead.
My story is not a happy one. It is not about heroics or unity or the fight to persevere. It is the story of survival. The only thing a person could really do during the crisis. It is the story of trying to protect someone you love and failing. It is a story of love, friendship and ultimately death. I’m not holding back. I am going to tell you everything. For some, this story will be harder to read then it was to write. For others, it won’t. Either way, this is my story. This is my account of the zombie apocalypse. 
I was trying to be reassuring and bring my students back to the mood they were in before we stopped to eat, which not many were doing. But I knew there was something big going on.
I could hear the words “ bio-terrorism,” “widespread” and “thousands dead.” I could hear people talking about countries all over the world. CNN had this gorgeous new anchor,
Rebecca Mailey and I had a sort of boyhood crush on her. I was 29 and still entitled to fantasize about celebrities. So when she was the one who sent a chill down my spine, I thought it was sort of ironic and could not help but laugh. I’ll never forget the colorless look on her face when she uttered, “We are now getting scattered reports of incidents here in the United States.”
I never finished booting up my laptop. My instincts told me to get everyone out of the rest area and back on the bus. It was a quiet on the way home. I told everyone to call their parents and let them know that they were okay and would be home soon. As we boarded the bus two police cruisers went speeding in the opposite direction, sirens blaring. It was unnerving, given what we just heard. The rest of the ride home was dead quiet.
“It’s happening everywhere.”

“What is?”

“This...thing. People are dying. Riots happening everywhere. They said that there are drugs in the water supply that makes you want to hurt others. Then they said it wasn't drugs, but a massive psychological event caused by a solar flare or something. Another guy said it’s been happening for a few weeks, but until now the government had it bottled up. And then...”
“Keith.” I had to stop him. The talking heads on TV had him all turned around.
“Yeah?”
“Take a breath. Clearly they don’t really know what is happening. So the question remains. Now, what do you know for sure? What do they know for certain? Think simple, Keith.”
“I don’t know. People are killing each other, I guess. They haven’t really said why or how, just that it’s happening.”
That part bothered me. If it were a terrorist event, then someone would be taking credit by now. If it were a disaster, then they would know the cause. Not knowing information...that is when I became hooked. That is when it became...interesting.
I looked up at the clock on the microwave. It was almost 10 AM. I really slept in late. I went and checked my cell phone. Seven missed calls? I realized then that I still had the phone on silent from the tournament. One call from Keith’s mom. Two from my parents? That was odd. Four from Ashley. Damn...I had promised to go over early this morning. She’s probably pissed right now. I went back into the bedroom and turned the TV on as I checked my voice-mail.
“Hi, it’s Keith’s Mom. Sorry I’m home so late. Thanks for watching him.”
All over the country people are fighting against...
“It’s mom. Calling to see if you’re okay. Call me back.”
Military response is beginning to organize...
“I need you! Now! Please hurry! Call me back!”
We have confirmed video reports of...
“Why aren’t you answering?! Oh good...I hope...call me back...”
Rising from the dead and attacking...
“They’re outside! Help me! I need you! I need to hear your voice!”
All over the world people are coming back from the dead and killing others.
“I love you...Mom! Look out!” There’s a crash of glass on the phone.
Stay indoors. Lock your doors. Board up your windows. Do not go outside.
No words on the last message...just another crash and the sound of a scream.
I was paralyzed.

The phone fell from my hand.


About the Author:
James Lacey lives in the Pocono Mountains of Northeastern Pennsylvania.  When not writing, he works with disabled adults and children as a paraprofessional and Special Olympics coach.  James also enjoys hiking, camping and watching football.



   





Tuesday, November 13, 2012

A Bridge To Treachery by Larry Crane



BLURB:


Former Colonel Lou Christopher is an ex-Army Ranger retired from the military and contentedly working as a New York investment broker. After being assigned a number of lucrative accounts and becoming accustomed to living the good life, he discovers there is a pay back. His former military skills are requested under a threat of losing everything he has.


Handed a group of misfits to assemble into a military strike team, he is coerced into leading the team on a mission of domestic terrorism. At the center of a bridge outside of Manhattan, his strike team is caught in the act and unexpectedly becomes engaged in a deadly firefight. It's then that he learns the mission was a political maneuver from the highest levels of the U.S. Government-and ultimately realizes he has been betrayed by his superiors. Learning his team was considered nothing more than collateral damage and intended to be killed and left as scapegoats, he uses his unique military expertise and engages in a fight for his life.

As the strike team is decimated, he and a female teammate elude the opposition forces to survive and escape, turning the tables on his superiors. Using his distinctive set of military skills, he now becomes the hunter and vows to extract his revenge and bring them all down. 


BIO:

Transplanted to Maine mid-westerner Larry Crane brings an Illinois sensibility to his writing. Larry graduated from West Point and served in the Army before starting a business career on Wall Street. His writing includes articles for outdoor magazines, plays, short fiction, and his most recent thriller novel, A Bridge to Treachery. In his spare time, Crane is a hobbyist videographer for his local Public Access Television Station and is a volunteer at his local historical society. Larry and wife Jan live in splendid isolation on the coast of Maine. 





Q&A Maggie Christopher


1. What treasure would you most like to find at the auctions you go to?
For me, auctions are endlessly interesting because there’s always the chance that you’ll find something there that you just can’t do without. Not big things, little things. It’s an adventure that puts a little pizzazz into days that at times get pretty drab. Everybody’s heard stories of rare finds and all that, but I don’t really think that’s ever going to happen to me.  I wouldn't recognize a Picasso if I saw one.  Well, maybe one of the well known ones, but that wouldn't be a find then, would it?

2.  Did you have any qualms about putting your friends in harm’s way by involving them?
I didn't have a lot of time to think about that, and now that you bring it up, I have to admit it
wasn't the most thoughtful thing to do. When bad things start cascading down on you, you just have to reach out for a life line. You can’t very well go to perfect strangers.  It’s your friends who will make a sacrifice for you.  Of course, I’m hoping that nobody will ever know who stepped up for us. They didn't hesitate a second, either. I hope and pray that nothing comes down on them.


3. Is it ethical to have your three star general father pulling strings for you in the Army?
As an Army brat, you get used to the fact that wherever you go you’re father is going to be known to everyone as a pretty big cheese.  Daddy wanted our lives to be as normal as possible, but he also wanted to do whatever he could to make our lives pleasant.  It isn't like you had to corner Daddy and ask him directly to do something, like in The Heartbreak Kid, Cybil Shepherd batting her eyes at Daddy Eddie Albert and he melts or something.  You just mentioned it at the dinner table, casually, an aside really, and you knew Daddy was going to look into it. Well, at least for me, he was.

5. What are your favorite scenes in A Bridge to Treachery: the action, the dialog or the romance?
I had some pretty funny sex scenes—silly ones, not steamy. Lou and I were steamy sometimes, everybody is, but thankfully, Larry left those out. As for dialogue, I like the scenes where things get pretty urgent and I have to really talk turkey to people and show off my strong side. You know, now that I think about it, the scene in the honeymoon suite of the Blueball Inn was pretty steamy.

6. Did you have a hard time convincing Larry to write any particular scenes for you?
My participation in the story just kept growing from the time Larry first put me in a real scene. I even got my own POV eventually. In the beginning, point of view was handled strictly by Lou. Shifting the point of view helped a lot in keeping up the pace once things got going fast and furious. And if you want to get some sense of the emotions that are raging at this point, it helps to have someone on the scene who’s a tad more demonstrative than Lou is. I begged Larry to include  the scene where I hide something from the coppers in the Grasshopper Pie ice cream container. It’s a doozy.

7. Do you infiltrate Larry’s dreams?
Are you kidding?  He definitely infiltrates mine. I assume I return the favor. Oh. Larry’s dreams, not Lou’s.  Yes. I infiltrate Larry’s dreams too, I’m sure. Who could forget the night I rushed into the boudoir of our frosty German apartment dressed in a Navy watch cap, two squirts of whipped cream and a Chocolate Chiparoo cookie on a string?  Well, it was unforgettable for me. And he’s the guy who dreamed it up, so...

8. Why do you carry a bird book around with you everywhere?
That was eons ago. I had a real interest in birds that came from my mother. You never know when you’re going to spot what turns out to be a Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker. Having your Roger Torrey Peterson at the ready is essential. The book also reeled in some pretty interesting guys who wanted to know what I was so intently reading.

9. Are you happy with the genre Larry has placed you in?
Sure. I get to be a strong and resourceful adult female.  What else could I want? Besides, the thriller genre takes in an awful lot of ground. A Bridge to Treachery really walks the thin line between action/suspense and general literary fiction at times.

10. If you could rewrite anything in A Bridge to Treachery, what would it be?
Somewhere in the book in a moment of weakness, I reveal that I love Lou the most when he’s at his lowest points and most needy. It’s because at these points my role in our lives grows. That translates into a secret desire on my part to see Lou stumble presenting me an opportunity to step in and save the day. Is that not greed worse than any of Lou’s?

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Thursday, November 1, 2012

Relocated by Margaret Fieland



Genre: Tween/YA sci fi
Publisher: MuseItUp Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-77127-111-0
ASIN: B008OHOVVU

Publisher's website  Amazon  Smashwords  Bookstrand


Book Description:
When fourteen-year-old Keth's dad is transferred to planet Aleyne, he doesn't know what to expect. Certainly not to discover Dad grew up here, and studied with Ardaval, a noted Aleyni scholar. On Aleyne, Keth’s psi ability develops. However, psi is illegal in the Terran Federation. After a dangerous encounter with two Terran teenagers  conflict erupts between Keth and his father. Keth seeks sanctuary with Ardaval.  Studying with the Aleyne scholar Keth learns the truth about his own heritage. After Keth's friend's father, Mazos, is kidnapped, Keth ignores the risks and attempts to free him. Little does he realize who will pay the cost as he becomes involved with terrorists.


Book Excerpt:
“What do you mean I must undergo a psi exam? The Terran Federation legislates against any use of psi." The speaker, a human woman with wild gray hair, glared at the immigration official.
 I gazed at the official. Like most Aleyni, he stood over six feet, slender, with extra wide hands, and thumbs able to bend all the way back. His head appeared more oval than humans, too, and he showed almost no external ears. His skin appeared almost black, like Dad’s and mine, and hers appeared pale. His dark skin provided a welcome spot of color against the general gray of the space port interior. The temperature felt pleasant enough, though; nicely warm instead of the chill of the Terran Federation space station circling above Aleyne.
He could have been reading a laundry list. “Madam, Aleyne is a sovereign planet, not part of the Terran Federation, and if you want to clear immigration you must undergo a psi exam.” He pushed a data cube toward her. “Either sign the consent form and undergo the exam, or go back up to the space station.” He added, “Take it or leave it,” in Aleyni. No one else noticed.
She threw the data cube on the floor, stomped, and it shattered into fragments. “I won’t do it. I don’t want any aliens screwing around in my head.”
   The official stared at her for a moment. “It’s against our ethics to screw around.”
   The woman crossed her arms. “I don’t believe you.”
    “You can return to the space station and take the next ship out.” The official’s face revealed nothing, and his gray eyes stared straight at her. His hands hung loose at his side. I considered him a model of polite behavior, considering. I would have punched her.
The woman stared at him. Her head tilted up, because she barely made five feet. Her face, which wore a ferocious frown, turned bright red. Maybe she disliked dark skin, or maybe she simply hated Aleynis.
“I’m going.” She spat the words, turned, glared at us, and marched down the corridor. I glanced back and noticed her arguing with a Space Force officer. The expression on his face would have curdled milk.
Dad prodded me. “Keth, come on.” He grabbed two data cubes, scanned them, and signed both. The official passed both of them through his reader and put one through a slot. “How old is the boy?”
“I’m fourteen Terran standard years. That makes me sixteen in Aleyni years. The Aleyni year is shorter than ours.”
“You need to consent for yourself.” He passed me a new cube and I signed.
The official threw it away and handed me another. “Read first and then sign.”
I sighed loudly and read the whole thing, both the top half, in Aleyni, and the bottom, in English Common Speech. I started to compare the two, noticing how much clearer informed consent appeared in the Aleyni version, when Dad prodded me. I signed the form and returned the cube to the official. “Okay, I read it.”
            The official smiled and pushed it through the slot after Dad’s.
I wasn’t scared, since Dad told me about the need to take a psi exam. The Aleyni checked for any kind of plant or animal, or whether we planned a terrorist attack. Dad said Federation anti-psi fanatics attacked a couple of times recently, so I understood why they checked carefully.
The examiner set me in a chair. He asked me again if I consented to the exam. When I said yes, the examiner put his hands on the sides of my face, looking into my eyes.
His hands burned hot against my skin. A thousand ants chewed through my brain and a voice whispered questions I couldn't quite make out. I tried to take a breath, but my throat tightened, and I gasped aloud. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to stop shaking. I shook my head, trying to make the voices go away, and the examiner removed his hands and stared into my eyes for a moment. The buzzing voices stopped, leaving my head feeling as though it would burst open. The examiner smiled at me and passed me through the checkpoint. A couple of minutes went by before my stomach stopped heaving, but hammers still pounded inside my head.
   

About the Author:
Born and raised in New York City, Margaret Fieland has been around art and music all her life. Daughter of a painter, she is the mother of three grown sons and an accomplished flute and piccolo player. She is an avid science fiction fan, and selected Robert A. Heinlein's “Farmer in the Sky” for her tenth birthday, now long past. She lives in the suburbs west of Boston, MA with her partner and a large number of dogs. Her poems, articles and stories have appeared in journals and anthologies such as Melusine, Front Range Review, Umbrella Journal and All Rights Reserved. In spite of making her living as a computer software engineer, she turned to one of her sons to format the initial version of her website, a clear illustration of the computer generation gap.  Her book, "Relocated," was released by MuseItUp Publishing in July, 2012. The Angry Little Boy," will be published by 4RV publishing in early 2013. 

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