Friday, January 29, 2016

Legacy

Legacy is a story set in the Tyme Universe

Artwork by Sam Pray

This is where it began.

A chair; it was nothing but an overly ornate chair but it had been the center of her life since the day she had been old enough to understand who she was. Carved out of black stone, threaded through with veins of silver, it sat on a stone dais that raised it four feet above the rest of the room. The stone glistened, the veins sparkling at the touch of any light source. Chandeliers of silver grey loops and ropes hung from the ceiling, four of them spaced out but no candles or artificial light spilled from their ornate arms. For now, small lights had been set into the wall behind the dais, lights that had once been burning torches and now offered soft illumination that took the edge off the otherwise cold appearance of the room as a whole. But no amount of lights, or change in them, could remove the impact of the chair itself.

Throne.

Her jaw tightened at the thought. Fair enough, it was a throne and had been since the planet had unified under one ruling family. Before that it had been the chair of the chieftain of a clan and the actual age of the chair was… unimportant.

It was her birthright, her duty and her curse and the cost of reclaiming it had been high. Too high some might say – she among them during her darkest days. Yet it had been the right thing to do. Leaving her people, her home, under the control of so brutal an enemy wasn’t something she could do.

Every moment that the Raiders held my home, was a moment too long.

There had been no choice but to fight back, to find a way to free her world and the other worlds in System One. Years of planning, building forces, working with the resistance on the ground of each of the five worlds, and then a combined attack from within and without before she’d finally been able to walk into this room for the first time since her seventh birthday.

Blood. The throne room had been decorated with the combined blood of her people and their enemies both. Bodies strewn, whole and in pieces, by the walls, the doors, and one in full, formal Ontourian dress, had sat in the throne – the body of a woman sprawled at his feet. He’d died during the attack but she couldn’t remember his face, only the woman with her throat cut. A final act of defiance by the man who had ruled Chronos and System One in the name of Ontour.

Blonde and black hair, stained with blood, lifeless blue eyes staring at the ceiling, her clothes…

She blinked, clearing the shadow images from her mind – at least for the moment. The dead were gone, buried and the throne room had been cleansed, blessed and rededicated before the coronation ceremony had taken place. Yet, the stain of those deaths remained, ingrained into the stone, the very soul of the room, and no amount of cleansing could change that. Their ghosts, their memories, would remain, lingering in the shadows, to be caught out of the corner of her eye at odd moments.

The rest of the room remained stark, simple in many ways, though large enough to hold at least a thousand people if the need arose. Chairs, simple but elegant, were set along the walls, ready to be pulled out should the need arise, but at other times they remained in place by the walls. Four heavy wood tables, long, dark and well used, sat on the floor in front of the throne, but set a dozen paces away from the first step of the dais. Their matching chairs sat on the far side from the throne, facing the dais, ready to be used for formal meetings, petitions, or other events that might require a first table set up.

It was all as she remembered of the time before the invasion – save for one thing.

Her family. Father, Mother, Uncles, and the babe held in her mother’s arms – lifted up to receive the blessing of the Gods on the very day the attack had taken place. A son, a prince for the family – but one that would not be the heir despite the protests of a few within the council. Even as a child she’d heard the arguments. Traditions had grown, changed over the millenniums. Women had the right to rule, the first born child given the ability to claim the throne as long as they passed the tests, and were accepted by the clergy. But some, a rare and vocal few, still clung to the divine right of man when it came to the right to rule.

Her father, Liam, King of Chronos, had refused to bow to their demands – and had died, along with his wife, and newborn son, in the attack.

Pain banded around her heart, locking in place, until she forced herself to take a deep breath, breaking the constraints. They were gone. There was nothing she could do to change history. Even if she hadn’t been dragged out, taken to safety on the night of the attack, she would have been unable to save them. She’d been too young, seven, a child with only a handful of combat lessons under her belt.

Her wrist ached. The memory of the grip that had tightened on her arm even as she’d kicked and screamed at him. Frostfire. Younger then but his hair white tipped with silver, his gaze firm, determination in every line as he’d dragged her to safety. How many years had it taken her before she’d forgiven him for saving her?

She’d been young, too young to understand at first, and then the stubborn streak that had come with teenage years had hit, and she’d still held onto her anger until it had finally crumbled under the pressure of reality. Bloodline, Frostfire, Spirit-Dancer, and the crew had watched, helped, provided the mask of protection on board a ship many still named pirate, all in the name of an oath given to a dead man.

Yet she’d been too wrapped up in her own anger and grief to understand – no, not understand, to accept it.

“It wasn’t my choice,” she murmured, her gaze moving back to the throne. “I would have stayed and fought with you.”

Fought and died, one more dead child to be discovered in the piles of corpses. Frostfire did the right thing, and I made his life hell for it for far too many years.

What good would that have done, if she’d died with the rest of them? Frostfire had forgiven her, as had the others she’d taken her childish anger out on. She’d learned, grown, tempered her fury, and harnessed her blood gifts. But that night here in the throne room - no, the numbers hadn’t been in their favor. The attack had come with the aid of a small group of traitors, which had allowed the Raiders past the outer and inner defenses both.

Traitors – men and women who had turned their backs on their home, their oaths, in order to fill their pockets. Power and wealth promised, yet many had died during the attack and others had died since.

Some remain.

Yes, that she was certain of, she felt their work even now, through the council, through trade agreements, and spy rings. Steps taken by those still in the service of Ontour and his Raiders continued to cause problems for Chronos and her people at every turn. Traitors and whilst they remained her home, her people, would never be truly safe.

“I’ll find them,” the promise a low whisper spoken to an otherwise empty room. She let out a slow breath, watching the light play off the silver that ran through the black stone of the throne. “They hide, they plot in the darkness, but I won’t give up.”

Time. She needed time to root them out, drag them into the daylight and expose them for the traitors they were. Without proof the accusations meant nothing and she’d been seen as nothing more than a pirate Captain thrown into the position of Queen. Unsuited for rule and in desperate need of a firm, guiding hand. An older, male hand if the council was to be believed. The same arguments they’d presented her father with when he’d refused to set her aside in the line of succession in favor of the new prince – when they’d attempted to pressure him into arranging a marriage for her before she’d been old enough to have a voice in such things.

Those voices had returned, perhaps even from the same men who had spoken up when she was a child. How had they survived? Had they gone underground, or had they been collaborators all along? Oh, she knew the official stories, but getting to the truth was another matter entirely. They’d been quiet at first, then a whisper, a soft word of advice, growing insistent when she continued to seek out other sources of information, or didn’t lean on their words, taking them in as if they were spun of pure gold.

She needed a husband. A hand. A guide. A man…

“I don’t need a husband picked out for me.” She growled, her knuckles tightened, hands curled into fists at her side until she took a deep breath and forced her rebellious hands to uncurl. Anger had no place, not when she might be seen. Another flaw they could use to call into doubt her ability to lead.

So now she was a male hater – nothing could be further from the truth. The idea of having a mate, a husband, and a partner, appealed to her. One that she chose, not one that was forced upon her by the council.

“Your Majesty?” An older male voice broke through her thoughts.

Kayala of Chronos straightened her shoulders and turned. “Yes, Janner?” She pasted on a cool smile. How long had he been there? Not that it mattered, Janner had proven himself trustworthy so far. The man stood just shy of six feet, with white and red hair that had been pulled back into a single braid. The simple blue tunic and pants that marked him as a member of the senior staff in the palace remained undecorated save for silver piping across the shoulders and around his wrists.

“The council, your Majesty. You were expected some time ago.” His voice was calm, but small lines tightened around his eyes.

“I know, and I informed the council that I would be unable to attend.” Unable, unwilling, and with no desire to be a puppet to the council. “As I’m sure you’re aware.”

Janner didn’t smile, though a glimmer of something flashed across his pale blue eyes. “Yes, your Majesty. I informed Councilman Vega of that fact but he was quite insistent that I find you and bring you to the meeting.”

Vega. One of the thorns in her side. “I’m sure he was, but Councilman Vega will remain disappointed. I have other matters I need to attend to.” She let her gaze move to the throne, lingering there for a moment before she turned her attention back to Janner. “I’m sorry, my friend. You’re in an awkward position. Vega is under the assumption that I, as a mere child in his eyes, and unsuited to rule, should jump to his every command, attend each and every minor council meeting, and be led by his wishes, or the wishes of the other members of the council.” She took a deep breath and fought the urge to run her fingers through her hair. Child. At twenty-five she was hardly a child. If her age hadn’t been proof enough, then her time in combat, fighting for the freedom of the system, should have been enough. “He’s using you to try and get my attention, and you lack the authority to tell him no.”

A faint smile flickered across the older man’s lips. “Indeed.”

A game, the entire council wasted time by playing petty power games. A meeting to discuss the impending visit of lord whoever’s son. A meeting to debate the exchange of technology with Thanatos – despite the fact that there was already an agreement in place. An important, time sensitive meeting to arrange the diplomatic – blah, blah, blah. “He’s not going to let this drop.”

“You could put a representative in place, your Majesty.” Janner met her gaze. “One who could help deflect them. It would not be an easy task, and they will try to persuade whomever you choose to then follow their path, but it’s something that even your father used from time to time.”

Kayala blinked, taking a half step back. “I – I wasn’t aware of that.” It made sense. A King wouldn’t have had the time to spare for every small meeting, every tiny detail. Much like a captain he’d have had he’d turn to that he could rely on.

“No, your Majesty, I imagine it’s something that they’ve kept from you.”

And I was too young to know that was going on at the time. She let her gaze linger on Janner’s face, watching for micro expressions that might hint at what was going on in the older man’s mind. “You served under my father, didn’t you?”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

A smile claimed her lips. Janner, one of the first to step forward when she’d reclaimed the throne. His advice had been fair, brutal at times, but fair. “If they have a problem with a young woman, then we’ll see how they take to having a male representative in my place for the minor council issues.”

Panic flashed across Janner’s eyes, his jaw tightening as he took a step back. “Your Majesty, no -there are better choices. I can name a…”

“But you won’t because I’ve made my choice.” She glanced at the throne, letting some of the tension ease from her shoulders. Light played across the stone, catching on the silver flecks and whirls. Memories flared into life, her father, her mother, the long nights, the discussions and the small circle of friends – no, not friends, advisers.

“Yes, your Majesty.” Janner’s head ducked for a moment before he lifted it once more, a firm set to his jaw. “I understand.”

For a moment she saw it, a flicker of movement at the side of the throne. Tall, strong, the smile one that had chased away the darkness in the days before the attack. A single nod. Approval. Then it – he – was gone, leaving only a memory in its place.

“My father left me a legacy, and I intend to honor it.”

Friday, January 22, 2016

Dangerous

Photograph legally purchased from Dollar Photo - additional elements added by Samuel Pray

Dangerous is an Erien setting story. Erien is currently being used as the setting for Battle Skies, a table top 3D fantasy aerial combat game from Final Sword Productions. RPG is in the works.

“Ally,” he whispered under his breath and swore as he stumbled behind her. “We shouldn’t be doing this. If we turn around now, they’ll never know we were gone. Come on, Ally, you haven’t thought this through. You know we’re forbidden to…”

“If you don’t want to do this, then go back. I won’t stop you.” She glanced back over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out. Brothers! What use were they anyway? All her brother ever did was whine, sulk and try to take all the fun out of her life. Now he’d insisted on tagging along with her when she’d tried to creep out without him. He couldn’t even keep quiet. How many sticks had he broken so far? And she didn’t want to think about the amount of times he’d found himself half snagged on a branch. She brushed a strand of hair back behind her left ear and tried to bring her emotions back under control. “It’s not like I can’t do this on my own.” Great, cowardice now, just when they were so close. “Go on, go back. I don’t need you.”

“Not going to happen.” He muttered, the words barely carrying even to her ears. “You’re stuck with me. If you’re going to do something this stupid, then I’m not going to let you go through this on your own. You’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“Sure,” Ally grinned and edged a little further through the trees, keeping low to the ground as they moved. Silent, they had to remain silent. Any sound might be enough to alert their prey. Maybe he was right and they shouldn’t do this, but the temptation – she’d waited a long time for an opportunity like this, long enough that Ally was all too well aware that it might be some time before the chance arose again.

Mom’s going to kill me when she finds out. They both are. Is he right? Should we turn around? Should I give up on doing this?

Well, not, not exactly kill, but the lecture – Ally shuddered at the thought. Their mother was the queen of painful lectures. The last one had lasted the better part of the day, the one for this infraction – would go down in the history scrolls. That, of course, would only happen if their little adventure was ever discovered. If – if is good.

“How much further?” Ben edged closer and hissed. “The longer we stay out here, the harder it’s going to be to creep back in without being caught. They’re going to be watching for us – I mean they will be if they find out that we’re gone.”

He was right, of course, but Ally wasn’t about to tell him that. She glared at him, putting the full force of her scant fourteen years into the look she shot his way. “When did you turn into such a whiner? You weren’t always like this. You used to be fun.”

“Dad won’t like it if he catches you name calling, you know what he thinks about that type of thing.” He stuck his bottom lip out. “Not like we can do anything with them if we find them. You know the rules. Look, but don’t approach.”

“You’d have to tell him what we were doing,” something Ally knew full well that Ben would never do. Not Ben the good one, the obedient one of the family. She was safe from that aspect if for no other reason than Ben wanted to stay in the good graces of their parents. That was just who he was and Ally doubted that would change anytime soon. “And yeah, I know the rules. Not like I’d want to hurt any of them.” She just wanted to see one – to know they were real.

Being the favorite child carried a price – and for once she was relieved that title fell on her brother instead of herself.

“Well, no but – gah. Fine. I won’t tell him.” He snorted, the noise a sharp note of derision. “Just don’t expect me to cover your ass when he finds out what’s been going on. Then there’s mom – it’s going to be…” he snorted again.

Ally froze, every muscle in her body tightening. If those sounds, his thoughtless snorts, carried to their prey… “Be. Quiet.” She kept her voice pitched low, not a whisper or a hiss that she knew would carry further than either of them wanted.

“Sorry…”

She lifted a hand, silencing him, or so she hoped.

Brothers. Can’t live with them, can’t push them off a cliff. Fine, he was sorry, but that wouldn’t fix things if the sound had carried. Hunters. Their family were hunters and healers – a powerful combination. It was time she used that knowledge – even though their father had made it clear, she wasn’t to go hunting on her own just yet. Too dangerous, too easy to be caught up in the power and be left unable to find your way back. Not that she believed the warnings – she’d always managed it before.

Sure, one or both of her parents had helped her. That wasn’t the point. She was stronger than they were willing to admit. At least this time she’d be able to prove it – even if she could never tell them. She could this without a guide, without a parent, and without anyone else telling her that she was but a child still learning her place within the world.

Ally bit back a sigh and listened.

Bird song, low but there. Did that mean meant the sound hadn’t been enough to send a warning through the trees? As she listened the song increased and she frowned. Not good. The noise had been enough to trigger a change but had their prey heard? Had there been enough of a cry, an alert from the birds, to warn them? She didn’t dare move. Not yet at least.

She knew what had to be done but if she rushed in, then there’d be a greater chance that she’d make the very mistakes her parents had warned her about. She frowned, focusing for a moment, going through everything that she’d been taught by her both her parents. Her father had focused on the skills of the hunter, her mother on the healer. Both meant becoming one with nature – it was one of the many tricks that her family had shared. The art of becoming either a hunter or a healer – if you were at peace with yourself, with the world around you, it became easier to slip through the cracks created by life, by the energy given off by each and every living thing.

Or so both her parents believed.

I can do this. They’ve shown me, walked me through this several times. It’s easy enough as long as I don’t lose focus.

Easy, as long as she followed the rules. She glanced around once, letting her gaze linger for a moment on the blue lichen that coated one side of a fallen branch before she settled down behind hit. Ally let the tension ease from her body, breathing with the release as she let herself sink into the sensations that surrounded her. Her heart rate lowered, skin prickled as she dug her fingers into the earth, the cool, damp earth beneath them. Life. She could feel it all around them. Worms, bugs, things so tiny she didn’t know their names.

She blinked, stunned at how easily she’d been able to sink a part of herself into the earth without either of her parents there to guide her. Don’t try on your own, they’d told her. Not until you’re older. Not until we think you’re strong enough. Her jaw clenched as she recalled their warnings and for a moment, a heartbeat, she lost her connection with the earth.

“What are you doing?” Ben edged closer to her his movement silent this time. “You’re sinking – Dad told you not to do that. He – he said it’s dangerous to do it without a guide.”

“Unless you know what you’re doing,” she didn’t look at him. Not this time. It was close. The energy, the way to find their prey, to bring them to a state of calm. It would work even on them. She had to believe in that or it would be for nothing. Energy rippled through the earth and into her fingers, calling to her, tempting her. A little more, a little longer and then it would over and done with. It was all so close. Within her reach if she only…

A hand tightened on her shoulder, the grip painful as it yanked her back, forcing her to the earth.

Birds screamed out warnings. Sounds echoed through the trees. Animals, small and large, taking flight at the sudden disturbance even as she glared up, forming the words she would need to tell her brother exactly what she thought of him.

Except…

Ally blinked, swallowed once and closed her eyes, hoping she was wrong.

“Allisandria, what in the name of the Guardian’s do you think you’re doing?” A pair of brilliant golden eyes stared down at her.

“Dad – I…” She didn’t want to look at him. She didn’t want to admit that she’d been caught. Her fingers curled into claws, the need to curl them back into the earth sang through her. She’d been close, so very close to the energy she’d needed. Maybe she could squirm back away from him and reach out the power once more? He wouldn’t be able to stop her if she moved quickly enough.

A soft giggle carried through the trees. Ally tensed, her head turning in the direction of the sound. Soft giggles. Tempting. Teasing. Almost childlike in nature. Their magic, she could feel it vibrating through the air. Innocence and power combined – who wouldn’t be tempted by them?

They were close. So very close. All she had to do was…

“You don’t know the temptation… you’re not ready for this. I warned you, that neither of you were ready to do this on your own.” Her father growled, looking down at her. “You’re not focused enough to use the magic. Any of the magic. You’re a child.” He reached down, taking hold of her by the wrists before he yanked her to her feet. “Don’t make me shut you down, child. Don’t force me into a position where I block from you from the magic until you learn to control yourself.”

Shut her off from the magic? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t! “Da…”

He shook her, his fingers digging into her upper arms, eyes flint like as he stared down at her. “Who am I?”

“You’re my…”

His grip tightened. “Wrong answer!” His words little more than a growl. “Who. Am. I.”

She hissed, her gaze narrowing on his face. Her throat tightened as she looked at him. His jaw tightened but she followed the line of it up, past his hair, to the tips of his elegantly pointed ear. There, handing from the lobe, was the single earring that marked his rank. An arrow formed in silver with a single, tiny ruby at the stud.

His rank.

Her gaze shot back to meet his eyes. Fear rippled through her, the knowledge of his rank, his power and exactly what he could do to her, all struck at the same time. She swallowed down bile, cold sweat coating her flesh as she tried to pull back, to pull free from his grasp but he held her fast, his gaze locked with hers, forcing Ally to remain in place.

“You’re- you’re the Triath,” Chief, leader, king – the word meant so many things for their people, but above all it meant father – father to them all.

“And who do you obey? Whose rules do you follow first and foremost? Where does your loyalty lie?” He leaned in, his words a low, cold growl.

“Those of the Triath.” Look away. She had to look away from him. Break his hold on her – if only for a moment. “My – my loyalty is to the clan and to the Triath.” She all but choked on the words even as the reality of those same words sank in. “It’s always been to the clan and to my Triath.”

He nodded, once, but didn’t loosen his grip on her arms. “Then you will accept my words and fight me no longer.” His eyes flashed a brilliant gold.

Energy. Magic. No!

She tried to fight, tried to pull away from him but it was too late. The power, his power, tore through her, following the lines of family, blood and clan, lines she could not block. Walls, solid and unbreakable, formed before she could find a way to prevent it. She sobbed, twisting in his grip as pain, brilliant white shards of pain, lanced through her.

“Father, no!”

Her brother’s scream?

“She will learn.” The Triath’s words sliced through her scream. “If I have to lock her down for a hundred years, she will learn not to disobey me. Be thankful I’m not doing the same thing to you, Benjouranth.”

Allisandria looked up into her father’s eyes even as her ability to access the magic that ran through her veins was torn from her. Thought fled. All she knew in that moment was pain. Sheer, blinding pain and then…

Nothing.

“I warned you this was dangerous, daughter-mine. You dishonor your training and your family both by your actions. Perhaps, now, you will accept my words and my leadership.” Arms. Strong arms that should have offered her safety, wrapped around her, lifting her up from the ground until she nestled against his chest. He said nothing more as he walked away, picking up the pace, and she lacked the strength to protest. Her body would need time to adapt to life without magic and then – then she’d find a way to bring down the walls.

She wouldn’t give in. No matter what her father did, she wouldn’t give in.

Tired. Even a mental rebellion left her drained. He’d done something else to her, something more than cutting her off from the magic. From the very potential she would need come the selection at the next full moon. She didn’t know what, exactly, but she’d find out. She had to find out and fight back…

Battle Skies information can be found HERE

Fiction re-releases of Dragon Prince and Fae Born coming soon

Friday, January 15, 2016

Freedom

Freedom is a prequel piece to the story Rebirth. An origin story for the Shadow Sprawl setting.

Artwork by Samuel Pray

Wind whipped her hair across naked flesh, lashing in painful stings as she blinked, trying to clear her vision free of the wind borne dust and grit. She growled, baring her teeth at the offending elements even as she walked, anger rippling through her body, fueling her escape from his prison.

Paradise – he claimed it would be our paradise, a place to live, and laugh for the rest of our days.

Lies. All of it had been lies. Nothing but a prison where she’d been expected to serve that – that male. He’d expected it, demanded it, and then pushed when she’d refused. Angry – yes, he’d been angry, and then frustrated.

“Not his. I don’t belong to him. Never will.” She hissed into the wind.

Walk. She had to move. Put a greater distance between herself and that place. It didn’t matter that the wind borne grit sliced at her skin, or that the branches cut at her sides, she didn’t even care about the rocks and sharp stones dug into the soles of her feet.

“Lilith!” His voice carried, no doubt with assistance, beyond the walls of the prison. “Come back. You have to come back.”

She turned, glaring at the outer edge of the prison. Trees, tall wonderful trees, the scent of fresh water, birds, animals – she could hear and smell so much that, for a moment, she was tempted to take a step back toward it. There was food there, shelter, the elements couldn’t strike her the way they now did. She was safe there, all she had to do was turn around, walk back in and accept the rules.

She stood there, staring back at the outer edge of the only home she’d ever known – her heart racing, sweat beading across her body, trembles running through her limbs as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. It would be so easy. Everything she needed would still be waiting for her beyond the green walls created by the trees.

No – not doing it – I won’t submit to him. To their rules. I deserve more than this.

Lilith forced herself to take a step back, first one, then another, and before she knew it, she’d taken a dozen steps away. The tug continued, temptation that tried to dig its way beneath her skin in an attempt to force her to return. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t betray herself. She’d tried to live their way, betrayed herself time and again in order to conform to their wishes.

Nearly killed myself in the process.

Hunger clenched deep within, a need stronger than the pull of the sanctuary forming as she turned and began to run. Bare feet hit the ground, dust kicked up in her wake, the landscape bleak compared to the beauty she’d left behind. She didn’t need them, didn’t need the so called peace and protection that was offered along with that arrogant male.

“Lilith – I need you, you can’t do this to me!” The voice was fainter now, weaker with each swift step that carried her away from the sanctuary. “Please, don’t turn your back on us.”

“Us,” she growled, picking up the pace. “There is no us, Adam.” It didn’t matter if he heard her or not. She knew the truth. “Only you and your desires.” A band tightened around her heart, knowledge that she’d been brought into this world as one thing, only to be told she had to be another – it was a betrayal she had struggled to accept.

“Lilith – this is his plan for us. You can’t turn your back on what he wants. We need you.” His voice, even with help, was weaker now, the words barely audible.

She faltered for a moment, looking back over her shoulder. Was Adam right? Was she condemned to follow the path that had been set out for her, without thought for what she might want? Lilith swallowed hard, tears misting her vision.

“Return. Now. Before it’s too late.”

She growled, baring her teeth in the direction of the voice. “I will take no orders from you or any male!” Orders. She’d had enough of his orders. Her life would be hers for the living, not theirs for the commanding.

Her teeth canines punched through, aching with the need to bite into something. Hunger. Something she’d never truly felt within the sanctuary, roared at her, pushing her away, toward a distant line of trees. She’d find something there within the forest, a beast she could bring down. Meat. Blood. Life.

Yes, life. That was the answer. It pulsed through animals, through other beings she knew existed beyond the sanctuary, beings Adam had spoken of, but had never seen himself. They would share their lives with her, some would die, others wouldn’t - but she would survive without the rules of the prison or her keeper, Adam.

Her teeth ached with the need to sink into a living, breathing prey. A beast, yes she could sense the life force pulsing within the animal even though she couldn’t see it yet. She no longer cared about the male left behind, or the prison she had escaped. All that mattered was the four footed beast whose scent now tantalized her.

In this world she would be the one who commanded – from this point on, her life would be hers and hers alone.

I am Lilith, the huntress – and I will bow to no one.

Rebirth and the game material can be found as a bundle HERE

The stand alone novella is also on sale as Rebirth via NOOK and KINDLE

Friday, January 8, 2016

Starfire - release excerpt

Starfire is an erotic romance novel, with BDSM and Ds elements. It's part of the Space Opera setting - Tyme.

Starfire was originally published through Loose-Id. Though much of the book remains the opening scene that was cut for Loose-Id has been re-added to the novel

Sexual content warning!

The shower. A quick, hot shower would see her through. If she was lucky it would, but she wasn’t holding out any hope, not with the need that still rippled through her traitorous body. She glanced at the clock. She had time. More than enough time to do what she wanted three times over and still shower, dress, and make it to her shift without being late. So, what was she worried about?

Mara settled back down on the bed and let one hand drift between her thighs. In the dream he’d tried to control her, but in her imagination, with her thoughts fully focused, she could control him. Mount him. Ride him. Use him for her pleasure and there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Her left hand parted her slick nether lips. A soft roll played through her hips, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Oh, fuck, she needed this. Her clit ached. The memory of his touch, his lips, tongue, and the way he smelled, felt, and tasted, all flooded back, swamping her senses as she let her fingers tease the hard, small nub.

She’d ride him, her thighs straddling him as she moved. He’d groan. His hands bound above his head -- no, not bound, chained. Anything less he’d be able to break. Yes, she’d chain him in place. His wrists and ankles chained to the bed.

Her hand moved faster, playing, teasing, the image building in her mind. The captain, helpless beneath her, a toy to use, to fuck to…

The chains snapped in her image.

No, that wasn’t possible, this was her fantasy!

How could the chains break in her damn fantasy, it wasn’t possible. There were too many odd things going on for her liking, and none of them good. Dreams that didn’t act, or feel like dreams. A fantasy that had a mind of its own?

That didn’t stop her body from wanting one moment of pleasure, a single, brief spark of sheer delight that she would be able to enjoy just as long as her dream behaved for a short while. Shit, she wasn’t exactly asking for much, was she?

Her fingertip circled her slick, throbbing clit. Her hips jolted. It didn’t matter what was behind all of this, she wasn’t going to let it spoil her day, or her selfish moment of pleasure.

She cupped one breast with her free hand, tracing her thumb over and around her nipple. She groaned, her hips moving with each light touch across her clit, her nether lips now wet and swollen. Just a little more, she was so damn close she could feel it now and she wasn’t going to give it up, not even if he walked into her room in person and ordered her to the bridge.

Fenris MacTire. Fuck, she couldn’t get him out of her mind, no matter what she did. She wanted him, needed him buried deep within her body. She craved the feeling of his cock, his hands, his touch, stroking her, bringing her to the point of pleasure and then refusing to let her go. Her fingers moved faster, taunting her slick heat as she bit back a fresh groan of sheer delight.

He was here, in her mind, here with her, on top of her, beneath her, in her. It didn’t matter how he was fucking her, only that he was, that they shared this moment. Deep, long thrusts took her body. She couldn’t hold back any longer, she didn’t even want to try. Pressure built within her, deep in her body, unwilling, or unable to back off long enough to allow her a moment to catch her breath.

It hit, hard, fast, and without mercy.

Her thighs tightened, hips bucked, back arched as she cried out. This was her moment, not his, never his, her moment and her fantasy. Sweat beaded across her body, her muscles clenching as it rolled through her.

Mara blinked and tried to focus as she caught her breath.

Gods above and below, what the fuck happened there?

The dream that wasn’t a dream, her fantasy changing despite what she’d tried to do, it just didn’t make sense.

She rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. No matter how confused she was, she still had her shift to do.

Time was running out on her and this wasn’t just about the time she had left before she reported for duty. She had to find a way to check in with her people. They’d know she was on the Lair; they wouldn’t know her current status. The emergency signal hadn’t been set off. They’d know she was safe, or at least alive, but the missing details would have Frostfire and Bloodline tearing their hair out.

There were people relying on her and any encounters with Fenris would only distract her from her work. She was a professional.

Starfire now on sale Amazon Kindle

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Welcome

Every Friday, as long as something doesn't blow up on me, I plan on posting a new story or snippet from one of the three RPG settings I'm creating for Final Sword Productions. All three have either already had novels or shorts released for the setting and one currently has some game material available as well.

Some of these stories will contain adult material and the ones that do will have a warning posted at the start of the entry. There's also an adult content warning when you enter the blog, so you have been warned. This doesn't, however, mean that all stories will be adult in nature - but I have to cover my arse.

Onto the settings.

Tyme - a space opera/SF setting - currently no RPG material on sale for the setting, but it's in the works. Three stories have currently been published. A short that appeared in an anthology called Space Sirens, the novel Astaria, an early work that's due for an overhaul, and the novel Starfire, which was initially published through Loose - ID and will be released again the first week of January 2016. The third novel, Last Name, is about to enter edits and should be released before the end of the year.

Erien - a mostly family friendly fantasy setting with a little warped humor - though this might change as some of the stories are demanding a little more - erm - fire. Two novels have been released in this setting in print and are being overhauled for ebook and re-release. Dragon Prince and Fae Born. Numerous shorts have also been written for this setting. It's also used as the setting for the table top 3D dragon combat game, Battle Skies.


Shadow Sprawl - an urban fantasy setting, except that I'm also writing the older background stories/origin stories. So what would we call this? Paranormal/Urban/Historical/near future - meh, it's Shadow Sprawl! Two novella's have currently been released for this setting, along with game material, those are Rebirth and Alpha. Several more novellas are waiting in edits and a full length novel is also in the works.

Disclosure: I'm one of the three owners of Final Sword Productions. So, why does it take so long to turn my work into RPG material? Because we also work with several literary licenses - authors such as David Weber, S.M. Stirling and John Carr - this work comes first. I've no problem with that, and I'm a part of that work as well. So, I'll keep plodding along with my own settings, building them up, creating and having fun at the same time. It's what we do - what I do.

Terri Pray
Scribbler, Creative, Insane Brit, Wife, Mother - in other words, just me.