Authors: T M Roy
Discovery (30 page)
As for Comet, well, cats took off on their own all the time. Sometimes never to return. Last Kent heard, the presence of the ship’s second newest crewmember—and H’renzek’s new bunkmate, since the Sirgel and the feline were totally fascinated by each other—created more of a sensation than his had.
He felt another, deeper sorrow for his older sister Kelly and what she would have to go through, again, in a life that was already scarred by people dying in abrupt and violent ways.
Kelly will be all right,
he thought firmly.
Somehow she’ll figure it out. And she’ll understand.
The rest? He didn’t worry about that. Wills and insurance existed to take care of those matters.
Turning his attention to the present, he smiled at the woman in his arms.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I’ll be with you forever. You and the baby. I love you, Povre. Are you sure you want me around? I’d sure hate for your dad to come through on his threat to jettison me with the garbage if you’d changed your mind.”
Her eyes widened anew. “We do not jettison garbage—oh! A joke.” Her lips twitched into a smile, her fingers tangled in his long brown hair. “Oh Kent, I love you.” She wriggled close, hugging him hard. Then she made a sound of annoyance, pushing away from him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing her frown.
“One human custom I insist you must lose immediately,” said Povre, her hands now clenched in his shirt.
“What’s that, sweetheart?” He dropped kisses like raindrops on her frowning face.
“Wearing clothing in bed at any time,” she said, somehow getting his shirt off without him missing a kiss. “It’s simply not healthy. One’s body must be free of clothing at least during their resting part of the day.”
“Skin needs to breathe, yes, I know, my mother and grandmother said the same thing. Normally I don’t wear anything to sleep,” he explained, “but since I met you, either I’ve been freezing cold or scared to death of my primal urges.”
This time she laughed. “I like your primal urges,” she confessed.
“Good, because I’m not planning on resting. At least not for a good long time. Until I’ve loved you into exhaustion.”
Povre snuggled her body into his, and their arms and legs closed around each other. And Kent knew, no matter where they were, or where they’d be, or where they would find themselves in the future, they would be forever together.
* * * The End * * *
No forest rangers, government agents, aliens, or cats were harmed in the production on this novel.
Sara V. Olds, since without her, the initial challenge to write this story never would have happened. To my youngest sister Laura, who introduced me to most of the Eugene locations in this book. To all my sisters and all those afternoons of brown grocery sacks stuffed full of second- and third-hand mass market romance novels. To anyone who has ever said to me “It can’t be done” or “It will never work”— in any context. To those kind people who gave the first editions of Discovery such nice reviews. And now most of all, to Cathy Wiley, for last-minute editing, encouragement, insight, faith, and kicks in the butt. But most of all for her friendship.
T.M. Roy
considers herself a “naturalized” Oregonian and has lived, worked, and played in all the places in this novel…well, except for the Affliliated Races space ship and certain games in U of O greenhouses.
She has been writing stories and drawing since since was old enough to hold a crayon. When she has the time and budget, she likes sushi and flying small airplanes. Recently moved (temporarily displaced) from her beloved Pacific Northwest, she currently lives in the St. Paul area with an opinionated Quaker parrot named Apple and a Senegal parrot named Sir Hugo the Naked.
You can find her online at
Facebook
, her website,
www.teryvisions.com
, or contact by email at [email protected].
This story
was initially conceived in the late 1990’s in answer to a challenge of just how fast someone could churn out a basic formula romance in the old mass market paperback style.
Well, I never was any good at following formulas, but it went from idea to first draft in less than ten days. I decided to make the main character male instead of female, and after four months of living out in the woods near Bend, Oregon, the location was a no-brainer. This is a short and sweet read, something easy to polish off in an afternoon at the beach or with a pot of tea and a fire. The concept of the Affiliated Races is taken from another universe I first started creating in an epic story I started in high school. Povresle is the ancestress of several of the main characters of this universe, and one day I might bring their stories to light.
Zapstone Productions
is a small independent publisher with offices in St. Paul, Minnesota and Baltimore, Maryland. Originally founded in Grand Forks, North Dakota, the company hibernated between 2004 and 2008, to be reborn in 2009 with a new partnership. We hope to bring you, our reader, many satisfying hours of entertainment. Visit us at www.zapstone.com to:
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Unique voices in fiction.
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Books in the Cassandra Ellis series
Dead to Writes
Two Wrongs Don’t Make a Write
Write of Passage
(available in 2012)
More Zapstone Books
~~~~
Science Fiction/Action
T. M. Roy
Convergence
– Journey to Nyorfias, Book 1
Gravity
– Journey to Nyorfias, Book 2
Stratagem
– Journey to Nyorfias, Book 3 (TBA)
~~~~
T.M. Roy and Sara V. Olds
Casualties of Treachery
– The Ukasir’s Own, Unit One
(check website for details)
~~~~
SF/F-Romance
T.M. Roy
Discovery – A Far Out Romance
~~~~
Middle Reader/Historical
Sara V. Olds
Anna – A Farewell to Juarez
~~~~
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Excerpt from LK Rigel's GIVE ME
C
old and salty winds drove in
over the Severn Sea and blew Frona’s hair in every direction. She pulled her cloak’s hood forward and stepped behind Igdrasil, the ancient oak which clung to the cliff edge. Since dawn a bank of clouds had approached land from the western ocean. Frona had watched, drawing strength from Igdrasil, and waited.
Aeolios was in those clouds, and he was angry. The god of wind was furious with her for the Great Wyrding.
As a favor to King Jowan, Frona had altered the vast deposits of iron ore buried beneath Dumnos. In human terms, the spell was her greatest success. The king had ordered songs composed and tapestries woven to commemorate the awesome deed. Dumnos now had steel to rival that of any kingdom. It made for lighter cauldrons and more durable horseshoes, and superior swords for the knights.
This morning the king was safe in his bed at Tintagos Castle, and Frona was left to deal with the god’s wrath. She’d made a mistake in the wyrding. She hadn’t considered its effect on nonhuman realms.
Driving rain joined the wind to announce Aeolios’s arrival. When he was at peace he rested in the bowels of Dumnos, but abroad he commanded the wind. Wind—but no thunder, no bolts of lightning.
“Face me, wyrding woman!” A blast of wind whipped around Igdrasil and blew back Frona’s hood. She sighed. Yes, she’d caused him grief, and he
would
complain, but he was a minor god. “Your contempt for the natural law will not go unpunished!”
The vibration of his voice passed through her and left a residual of nausea. She
had
gone too far. It was all in a day’s work to bend and guide the material world, but it was a dangerous business to change anything’s fundamental nature. But she wouldn’t admit that to Aeolios. She stepped away from Igdrasil. As a precaution, she set a boundary around herself and the tree, like a bubble, a shield against his temper.
The clouds consolidated and darkened over the waters in the bay and rose in a black billowing flume larger than Igdrasil. The perfect shape of a man formed with eyes that flashed like fire, a gigantic torso, shoulders, and arms.
Frona let out her breath in relief. Aeolios could appear in whatever form he chose, and he’d made himself handsome in her eyes. He wanted something. It would make him easier to deal with.