The Lacanto Project

Here is another snippet for #ssfsat from my dystopian science fantasy novel THE LACANTO PROJECT for which I am actively seeking an agent/publisher. THE LACANTO PROJECT  is about an assassin who discovers that she is the genetic link necessary for the rise of a prophet in a dystopian world.

In this scene, Devon takes Nashi to the morgue to identify the body of her slain mentor.

***

Devon led Nashi to Vault-18 and pulled open the square door, bringing a body with it. Holding up the lantern so that its light reflected down on the corpse, he snapped back the sheath that covered the cadaver and stepped aside.

She shut her eyes for a moment and then gazed at the gray body, haunting in the dim light, and she suddenly went numb.

“Well?” Devon said in a razor sharp tone.

Nashi took a deep breath. She had seen hundreds of dead people, most having been her victims, either killed during practice or on her missions, but she had never seen one she knew as intimately as Tamron. Viewing his naked still body lying on the metal slab left a hollowness in the pit of her gut. It were as if a piece of her lay on the table.

Devon hung the lantern on a hook above the vault and moved the corpse’s head from side-to-side. She saw the small puncture wounds behind Tamron’s earlobes, an indication to the tortuous nature of his death.

The Sentinels

"The Sentinels" was first published in Alternative Coordinates, March 2009. It can now be found in SPECULATIVE JOURNEYS.   

"The Sentinels" is about a body part salvager caught up in the middle of an intergalactic bug war.

This snippet is the opening scene of "The Sentinels." Its writing grew out of my fear for spiders.

***

Jacs and his partners found the Sacarvian village, Eelon, at sunrise. Never, in all his years as a freelance salvager, had he encountered something this strange. Fungi-like plants circled Eelon, and a spidery mist entwined the huts. He tugged at the green jumpsuit he wore that stuck to his body at uncomfortable places and dropped his backpack, harvesting tools and PD (preservation/decontamination) sacks spilling out by his feet.

Soop stood beside him, his red dreadlocks swaying as he scanned the village. "Maybe we're at the wrong place."

Not possible, Jacs thought. The attack had been here. He had been given the coordinates by the Hutans themselves.

But where were the bodies?

The Yellow Stone

Here's something less gruesome for Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday, a snippet from my short story, "The Yellow Stone." "The Yellow Stone" was first published in 2009 by Eternal Press. It can now be found in SPECULATIVE JOURNEYS, available at amazon.com. The premise for this story arose out of the events of 9/11 with the following thought: "It is not what people look like that defines a nation, it is how they live." This excerpt is the opening scene of the story.

***

Lozan Kiowa entered her village just before dawn. She could hear the thrum quieting as whispers rose above the RAT-tat-tat-tat-tat and echoed off the canyon walls. Wars songs, in another time, but for her the inaudible chants signified another failed journey and reinforced the other villagers' suspicion that maybe there wasn't anyone out there.

With a strong desire not to become a disbeliever, Lozan trudged into her family's adobe and found Moma Kiowa laying on her bedroll. Her grandmother struggled to her feet and hobbled over to her with wide arms.

"Lozan, the early winter winds have brought you home." The old woman spoke with a guttural voice, like someone had tossed pebbles down her throat and they rattled every time she opened her mouth. She squeezed what remained of Lozan's strength right out of her.

"Low-spirits brought us back," Lozan said. "That and a longing for home."

The poignant smile on Moma's face gave Lozan little reassurance that there really was a place called home. Certainly, this village was not it. Her people had lived in the canyons for centuries, but it never felt quite right to her.

The Lacanto Project

Here is a snippet for Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday. This is another excerpt taken from my dystopian science fantasy novel, THE LACANTO PROJECT, for which I am actively seeking an agent/publisher. THE LACANTO PROJECT is about an assassin who discovers that she is the genetic link needed for the rise of a prophet in a dystopian world. This scene is near the middle of the story when the secondary character, Devon Han, finds his lover dead.

***

Devon hovered in Sadie Jane’s bedroom doorway, gazing at her naked body laying on the bloodied carpet. An icy pain rammed down his throat, and he forced his legs to move toward her in small, quivering steps. She wore a red wig, the one with the long soft ringlets, his favorite, which was now tainted with blood. Her middle breast had been sliced off, and a knife had been put in its place between the two remaining breasts. Her arms were folded over her abdomen, a knife thrust into her hands, locking them together. Another blade was jammed in her overlapping feet, and eight additional blades purged the sides of her body.

He trembled looking at the grotesque sight before him, its symbolism clear as the ominous shroud that cloaked his soul. Eleven blades thrust into the body of an intimately acquainted redhead at places that were eternally and painfully engraved in his mind.

His breaths came in spastic waves, and he fell to his knees. He stroked Sadie Jane’s swan-like neck, cold and gray, and inspected the base of her head and around her ears with probing fingers. And there it was.

The Lacanto Project

Here is the snippet for Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday. This is the opening scene of my novel, The Lacanto Project.  The Lacanto Project is a dystopian science fantasy for which I am actively seeking an agent/publisher. It is about an assassin who discovers that she is the genetic link necessary for the rise of a prophet in a dystopian world.

***

The evening began like any other work night. Dinner, wine and a pill. The food and drink were grand, but the tablet resting in Nashi’s palm gouged her heart and lessened her chances that this time she wasn’t expected to kill.

A dark shadow loomed over Nashi. Dressed in a sheer black tunic, she crouched on the canopy-draped bed and squeezed the pill, wanting to crush it to powder. It wouldn’t matter. He would only make her lick it up.

“What did she say?” Nashi asked Tamron, her mentor. She glanced at him through the thin veil that separated them, trying to avoid eye contact. She couldn't let him see her tears. Being Geo-1, her faction's best assassin, meant she should show no such sentiments, nor displeasure in receiving the current assignment.

Tamron buttoned up his shirt and readjusted the cape on his back, his black curls shading his cold eyes. He pushed the canopy aside and tossed a knife on the bed. “You might need that.”

Nashi's heart hit bottom. “I suppose this means we proceed according to her plan.”

He dropped her lubriskin on top of the knife. Yes, that’s exactly what it meant.

Finding Farber

Here is a snippet from my short story, "Finding Farber." 
"Finding Farber" was first published in EXCAPE VELOCITY: The Anthology, in 2011, and can now be read in SPECULATIVE JOURNEYS. This is the opening scene.
                             

***

The early morning tram coming from East Park entered Station 12 ten minutes behind schedule. A lucky break for Banger Dunn. Debris flew into the air as the tram stopped, spattering Banger’s gray overcoat as he hurried to catch the rail-runner before it took off. He grabbed onto what was left of Farber’s arm and shoved him through the tram’s door. Covered with blood that might not be just Farber’s, Farber’s coat sleeve hung like a limp fire hose from his upper arm.

Banger thrust a token into the pockmarked metal depository at the front of the automatic tram and pulled Farber up from the floor. Farber's blood trailed behind them as they walked down the aisle. The tram moved onward, toward 39th street.

Banger shoved newspaper off the back seat and guided Farber into it, next to him. Farber's thin body trembled beneath the big overcoat her wore. Banger moved him closer. Then he noticed the kid, the only passenger on the tram, sitting six rows ahead, staring at them.

Europa

Below is my snippet for Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday from my short story, "Europa."  "Europa" can be read in its entirety in SPECULATIVE JOURNEYS, and at Smashwords.

 "Lieutenant Cordelli, return to the Explorer with Lieutenant Clay in one hour.  That's an order.  We'll remain in orbit and prepare the shuttle for another surface landing.  We will not abandon Lieutenant Duval."

 One hour.

 Jouno perched himself on the edge of despair, the thought of leaving Europa, with Rylie alone beneath the ground, numbing him. The late afternoon shadows cast gloom across the landscape that not so long ago had mesmerized him by its uniqueness. Soon it would be dark. Above, he saw two sister-moons and wondered how much light they would reflect down upon him. 

He leaned toward the view-screen, his heart sinking into his gut. Rylie had opened the weird looking triangle and walked through it--and then she disappeared.