Oh, we do enjoy a good cover reveal here at the Hunters of Reloria.  It is in keeping with this week's Fantasy Sci-Fi Readers Lounge theme too:  Mystery Week.

So let's dive in and uncover the mystery ofDark Horizons.

Clue number one: What are the genres (notice there's more than one). 
​What do you think from this teaser?

OK, so that was a pretty easy one to solve. Many related genres are included, such as cyberpunk and science fiction.  I'm always partial to alien technology myself, so looking really good to me.

​Clue two:.  Who wrote it?​

We are in for a treat with this one as it's a box set from many fine authors: AW Cross; Kathrin Hutson; Kay L Moody; OE Tearmann; Richard Parry; SJ Bryant and VS Holmes.

​Clue 3:  When is it released?
https://amzn.to/2KQoTg8

If you clicked on the link, you would have discovered the release date September 17th. 
​So go ahead and check it out with so many great authors, you're sure to love more than one of these fun novels.

Blurb: When there's nothing but darkness on the horizon you have one choice: fight or fall. These incredible authors delve into seven all-too-possible futures.

THE SEEDS OF WINTER - A. W. Cross
SLEEPWATER BEAT - Kathrin Hutson
TRUTH SEER - Kay L Moody
THE HANDS WE'RE GIVEN - O. E. Tearmann
CHROMED: UPGRADE - Richard Parry
ROOKIE - S. J. Bryant
TRAVELERS - V. S. Holmes

Clue 4: How can I get it?

And there you go.  Mystery solved.  Happy reading, cheers, Kasper :)

Author bio:
V. S. Holmes is an award-winning science fiction and fantasy author. She created the epic fantasy REFORGED series and an archaeological sci-fi series the NEL BENTLY BOOKS. In addition, she runs Amphibian Press, dedicated to helping hybrid authors with publishing and has a blogging residency at Aspiring Authors focused on writing disability and mental illness.
When not writing, she is a contract archaeologist and, as a disabled, gender-queer person, an activist for equal rights and climate change.


Book title:   Travelers
Genre:  Sci-fi
Publish date:  2/27/2016
Publisher:  Amphibian Press


Synopsis:
Archaeologist Nel Bently has her own crew, her own research, and a private patron to fund her passion for dirt. With her trowel barely into the dry earth of Chile’s coast, however, Nel learns she and her crew are being watched.

Los Pobladores, known to Nel only as vandals and looters, take issue with any archaeologist brave or stubborn enough to set boots on their land. Nel is both and far from willing to give up the site that will make her career. She must keep her crew, her friends, and her life’s work safe, but with a benefactor playing chess with their lives, and angry militants who may actually have a point, Nel is ready to fight dirty.

X-FILES meets LARA CROFT in this snarky sci-fi about where we came from, and where we’re going



Author Interview:

Welcome to the Readers' Lounge, VS Holmes, I'm looking forward to hearing about your unique perspective on fantasy writing.  Strap yourself in as this levitating lounge takes off.

VS Holmes: Thanks Kasper.  Looking forward to it.

​Which scene from your book do you like best and why?
I'm a wicked sucker for reunion scenes. The more complex the relationship or reason for parting, the better. I think it's left over from reading copious amounts of Harry/Draco and Watson/Sherlock fan fiction a decade ago. There's a scene in  Blood and Mercy, the final book in my fantasy series, when a brother and sister reunite after 20 years, throughout which he's been searching for her, and she's been avoiding being found. It's awkward and disappointing and touching all at once and I love it.

Aw..that sounds sweet, maybe bitter-sweet.
​
Have you used any real events or places as inspiration for your writing?
In my sci-fi I've drawn a lot from my day job as an archaeologist, not just locations, projects, and science, but the folk legends we all have, and the ridiculous stories we tell.

Archaeology sounds like such an interesting career.

What are you working on now?
I'm currently drafting  Blood and Mercy,  which is the final book in my fantasy series (eek!) and mentioned above, and  Heretics,  the fourth Nel Bently Book. I’m also developing the first season of an email/audio serial set in the same universe as the Nel Bently Books.


What’s your writing routine?
I'm a morning person. Well, I'm not a sleep person, really. I get up between 5:30 and 6:00 every morning and if I'm in the field I'll write until about 10 minutes before we roll out. If it's the off season or a weekend, though I'll write until about 10, visit my parents who live next door for a bit, then continue writing for the afternoon, with a break to take the dog for a walk.


How did you go about developing your cover artwork?
I made the covers for the Nel Bently and my other novels in the Starsedge universe myself. I use Krita and stock photos, as well as custom photoshoots for the figures. My fantasy books are commisioned pieces of art (the Reforged art is by Ben Donahue and Awakened is by Aaron Bolduc). The layout and designs I did myself.

Oh wow, that is so cool.  It must be so rewarding to see your visions come to fruition.

If you could only take three books with you through an interstellar portal, what would they
be?
One would be blank, of course. The next would be  Crown Duel  by Sherwood Smith and the third would be  Cosmos  by Carl Sagan.

Awesome!  I think you're the first person to answer with a blank book for writing.


Do you have a blog?
I don't have a personal blog, but I do have a blogging residency at Aspiring Authors Blog, where I share a monthly article concerning disability in SFF worlds.


What’s your dream job and do you think you’ll do it one day?
I'm lucky--I'm already doing both my dream jobs. Archaeology and writing are my passions, and not too different from one another--both are the search for a story and truth.


Where do you like to travel to?
ANYWHERE. I get to travel around the states for work, but I've also dug in Greece. I like to get off the beaten path to really get to know a place and its culture. I'm also a huge fan of stark landscapes. I just returned from the Iceland Writers Retreat and it was incredible there!
​

Most played song: Hmm, currently Spiritual Machine's cover of "Don't Fear the Reaper," or anything by The Midnight.
With writing, are you a plotter or (seat-of-your) pantser? Plotter once I have the first scene
Do you prefer to read SciFi or fantasy: I enjoy reading fantasy more and writing sci-fi more.
Best superpower: Healing or Flight.
Number one thing to do on your bucket list: Run a writers’ retreat!


Thanks VS.  It has been good fun learning about you and your work.  We have the links here as well as a sample of VS's writing below.

​Links 
Website:  https://www.vsholmes.com
Blog:  https://aspiringauthorblog.blogspot.com/2019/04/you-cant-miss-library-making-fantasy.html
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorvsholmes/
Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/vs-holmes
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/VS_Holmes
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/V.-S.-Holmes/e/B014B55FJ0/
Newsletter sign up: bit.ly/nelbentlybooks
Youtube book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Shk0IbaSQU&t=10s
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/vs_holmes/


V. S. Holmes
Award-winning Sci-fi and Fantasy Author
www.vsholmes.com



​Excerpt from Travelers:

Vandalism across a perfect site was the best recipe for an archaeologist’s worst day. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that Nel Bently’s visa had met with "authenticity issues" twice on her way into Chile. She ducked under the rope that had served as a barrier. A poor one, she mentally snarled. The site was a disaster. Great gouges carved the formerly pristine soil. The tools stacked under a tarp by the bushes were now scattered, bent and broken. What pits her crew had dug the week before were filled with rotting leaves and back dirt, the perfect, square walls of the trenches ruined and crushed in.
Nel stepped carefully through the mess. This has Founders written all over it. As a rule, Nel was a patron of locals and the people she studied. Coming onto culturally significant land, not matter how old the site, was always tricky and she respected that. The Founders were her exception. They took issue with any archaeologist that set boots near their land, despite admitting there was no spiritual or cultural significance to the sites Nel chose.
"Well, fuck." Her tanned hand raked sweat and sunscreen through her sandy hair. She had permits and this was blatant vandalism. She turned back to her colleague and the two grad students who had arrived early to help. They waited, uncertain, at the rope, tools and packs still held with earnest dedication. "Alright, Mikey, grab pictures of this mess. You two, packs and tools go there, and set up a tent over them. Once Mikey has his pictures, clean it up. Wear gloves, it's gross and smells like a sewer." 
She watched as they moved to do her bidding, eyes wide as they got their first good look at the vandalism. "If you need anything, talk to Mikey. I'll be on the phone." She trudged up the rise, dry soil crunching under her battered boots as she tugged the satellite phone from its case in her pack. She dialed, listening to the clicks as the call connected and surveying the land below her. It was perfect, really. The site was nestled between a stream and the rise she stood on now. The water had carved deep enough to have been there when it was inhabited, but small enough to be on only the local maps. The rise, curving from the north to the west, was covered with artifacts. It was the first place they surveyed, and it provided natural protection from the wind that whipped off the Pacific, just a few hundred feet away.
"You've reached the machine of Dr. Martin de Santos. Leave your name and number and how I can help you, and I'll return your call at the earliest convenience."
"Martos, it's Nel. Site was vandalized, looks like Founders. We could use some extra help -- I don't know if my greens can handle this. Give my cell a call tonight, I'll be in town." As she hung up, she caught site of the rotted mess Mikey was about to shovel out. It was a rough shape of a symbol. “Oi! Mikey wait!" She snapped a few pictures with her handheld, before waving for him to continue and stamping down the rise. She had been unable to see it from the ground. It was the angled symbol with which the Founders signed their papers, websites and protests. As she watched the clean up, she noted two figures on the rise across the stream. Both wore telltale woven bands around their forearms. A cold mix of dread and defiance crawled down her spine. It wasn’t like them to watch. I'll be damned if I'm going to be cowed by radicals. "C'mon," she called to the students, brown eyes fixed on the figures above. "I wanna see you moving dirt by ten!"
She returned to the site and sat on a rock, flipping through her field book. She had been digging since she was an undergrad. She had started with a history major, then steadily worked backwards in the time line, learning about anthropology, prehistorics, and paleolithics. She fell in love with her first dig. Now, with her doctorate defended, she had her own crew, her own research. Not to mention funding from a generous private patron to continue her passion for sweat, dirt, and work that made her body ache. She was staring at the page where she had sketched the site last summer when Mikey sauntered over.
He was a blocky man -- square head, square hands, square shoulders -- with only a slight paunch to round out the edges. "Sucks, eh? Think it was the Flounders?"
Nel smiled at his nickname for their adversaries. "More than likely. I tried to keep this site under wraps, but when you've grown up here, I think nothing escapes notice. They were watching us clean up this morning. Creeps me out a bit."
Mikey glanced at her, a frown crinkling his sun-weathered skin. Mikey was the resident prehistoric ceremonial specialist from their department, but more than that he was her best friend. "Everything OK?”
She shrugged. "I don't know." Her gaze was fixed on stain from rotted debris.
He rose with a groan. "I bet you a beer you pick up a shovel before tomorrow's over."
It was an old tradition. Nel could not keep her hands out the dirt, and even as site supervisor, she often found herself in a pit before long. She laughed. "
You're on."

... the story continues in Travelers


​
​
VS came in for an interview on the Fantasy / Sci-Fi Readers' Lounge
Pop on over for all the latest great reads 
https://www.facebook.com/groups/FantasySciFiReadersLounge/

Russell was 5 when he found that people should be responsible for what they say when he had to write a story to back up his claim to his grandmother that he could do better in his sleep than the black and white movie he had watched. He handed two notebook pads to his grandmother who then agreed with his opinion. That was indeed the beginning!
In the beginning, it was mostly stories about super heroes and the stuff of comic books. Then came the works of Alexandre Dumas and the ideal of romantic heroes. Now there was a need to make women swoon and men weep and poetry was discovered and written. Russell was 12 when he went to his first play, which revealed a love for the stage and was 14 when role-playing games filled his head with the adventures of steel and sorcery. This all concluded with the love of the story and its effect on the audience.
Although life defies understanding, Russell has set about the challenge of teaching through his stories, in small baby steps, the lessons of love and life he has come to treasure since learning so much through the viewpoints of others.

* Book title: Star Chaser: The Traveler
* Genre: Science-Fantasy

Beyond the Outer Rim series 
"You've come to the Rims. This is the place of High Adventure!" Welcome! You have just entered a new realm - a new Universe where there are worlds, races, powers, allies and enemies just waiting to be discovered. Your place may be with the wielders of Iro... or perhaps as a Traveler... it could be that your destiny lies on a ship flying through the stars... or straining your skills on a battlefield... maybe you're most suited to hours spent pouring over ancient tomes... or engaged in a game of chess that will shape the cosmos. Whatever your place - wherever your destination - you will find yourself... Beyond the Outer Rim.

• Star Chaser: The Traveler: Beyond the Outer Rim
• Starblazer: Through the Black Gate: Beyond the Outer Rim - Book 1
• StarFlight: The Prism Baronies Beyond the Outer Rim Book 2
• Pieces of the Dark Eight: Beyond the Outer Rim

Kasper: Hi Russell and welcome to the brand new Fantasy Sci-Fi Readers' Lounge.  We have literally just unwrapped and placed it in this magical realm.  I hope it's comfy.

Russell:  Sure is ... and levitating.   It's a pleasure to be here.

OK, let's take off.  Russell, curiously, you write under the pen name of Reiter and I met you online as Reiter of Th'iam.  How did that come about?

A few lifetimes ago in the lands just east of Atlanta – a place they now called Decatur, an event was witnessed: the opening of a Dungeons & Dragons game box. It was an English teacher, Mrs. Linda Berry, who had provided the item and Christopher Murphy who had opened it. And there we were, Chris, Robert, Willie, Derrick, and me (those days I went by Gary) – rolling plastic, pencils flying, and pages flipping as we delved into the realm of table-top role-play gaming.

As it turned out, after reading the Dungeon Master’s Guide, I came to find the Gygax offering a little wanting. It will always be a cherished work of brilliance to me… but like most books, it needed an edit. Thus, we created Th’iaM, a new system filled with wonders not found on Gygax’s pages.

The Dungeon Master was done away with – we had watched the D&D cartoon and Dungeon Master was too beloved a character, though we kinda poked holes in his part of things too. So, the role of the Planner/Recorder was created (P/R) and the first P/R was given an identity… a name… and that name was Reiter.

As Th’iaM has grown (and we’re working on releasing the source books soon), the role of Reiter remains. So whenever a book covers things found in Th’iaM, the by-line will always be Reiter. Beyond the Outer Rim was the name of a scenario that ran for over three years (real-time) with as many as 22 players in one session. With ten titles of the universe done, it will be in Book Four – Star Tribe where the audience will be introduced to the bulk of characters that were the mainstay of the game session.

Getting back to the question, Reiter comes up in the SylverMoon Chronicles anthologies but there again each story was, at least in part, used in a gaming scenario.

Sounds like fun..
What was the defining event that made you start writing?

Lucille Brown… but I just called her Grandma. She was by far the smartest woman I’ve ever known, and she didn’t spend one day in college.
She was also a splendidly simple woman. You never called anyone a liar – you could say they were telling a story – and you never said something about yourself that you weren’t prepared to back up. Cue a moment when the only TV in the house was preoccupied with black & white movies (kind of dating myself here), only I wanted to watch Mighty Mouse (REALLY dating myself).
So... I whined. Yeah, that did not even begin to register.
Next, I made my case, claiming the movies were stupid and I could tell better stories with one arm tied behind my back. To her credit, she didn’t tie me up… but she did take her whiny little grandson to the drug store where she purchased a box of pencils and a stack of notepads. Getting back home, she whipped out the butcher knife and sharpened five pencils.
“Prove it!”
I was only 5, but I knew that tone of voice… it was the same one she used on the stray animals she would take in. Oddly enough, they all minded her when she used that voice – guess I was just her little puppy that day, ‘cuz I started writing!

To the credit and immeasurable gratitude I owe my late brothers Norris and Jerome, and my sister Simone, one of the things we did during playtime was play with our dolls. Dad was a handyman from hell with enough tools to open his own hardware store and Mom made a few of our clothes. That resulted in having fabric and building materials available to the children at all times. When the parents bought actions figures, Batman and Superman didn’t hang around long. Off came their old and tired costumes and we went to making new one. It’s amazing what you can do with masking and electrical tape when it comes to making wristbands and armour (yes, that spelling was for Reiter). Norris would draw heroes and hand me the final product, telling me to give them powers and a story. So, by the time I received my grandmother’s challenge, I was good to go!

I was on the third pad (remember, I was five... the letters were HUGE) when she picked up the first one. She started to read the second when she told me to put down the pencil (close call, ‘cuz I was on the last one with a point). We left the house again, only this time we went to the library. We invaded an out-of-the-way corner and she sat me down. She took down a book and read to me The Three Musketeers. I’ve been in love with colorful heroes ever since, and Alexandre Dumas remains my #1 author of all time!
On and off through a marriage, a couple of interesting career choices, and the rearing of four wonderful children, I’ve been writing off and on for years. That was mostly script writing though. I didn’t finish my first book until I got flimflammed by Madolyn Locke. But that is another story.

What other writing have you done?

Scripts (mostly freelance stuff), some ghost writing, and a couple of stage plays.

What made you choose the space fantasy genre?

It’s the one I chose when my editor Madolyn screamed, “FINISH A THOUGHT!” Up to that point I had penned an Adventure-Thriller, Science-Fiction, and a couple of other Science-Fantasy pieces.

That Madolyn sounds assertive, I'd do as she said too.  LOL
What’s the story behind your book title?

Beyond the Outer Rim was the name given to the scenario… it seemed fitting to keep it. As for Star Chaser, that was a Life-Stride created in the Th’iaM game specifically for the creation of the Dungias character. The rest of the title denotes how impacted I am with Lord of the Rings.

What’s the basic plot of your series?

Dungias has a simple task, a Star Quest: go the realm of space that is the home of the saviours of his people, find their progeny (humans)… and save them from themselves.

Which is your favourite character and why?

At this point I would have to say that it’s Freund, but he’s not running away with it. He is part bartender, part stand-up comedian, part philosopher, part realist… oh, and he’s also one of the most powerful entities in the Rims. He spends most of his time trying to guard humanity WITHOUT flexing his muscles… or being seen.

Freund sounds intriguing.
What advice would you give to someone wanting to write a book?

Don’t think for a moment that the pages you love to read are the first draft! Likewise for the ones you write.

What music do you listen to when writing?

Yes. It can go from Country to Pop, Hip-Hop, Folk, Classic, etc. One of my best mixes went from Bach and Pavarotti, to Earth, Wind & Fire and Prince, to Patsy Cline and the Florida Georgia Line, to Pink, Bruno Mars, and Maroon V.

What are you working on now?

BTOR – it would appear someone has gone and said, “I’ve got a small press start-up, and I want Star Chaser to be my first release.” As the 9th and 10th titles are finalized (with the 11th title beginning Book Four of the series), we’re focused on trying to make the re-launch successful.

What do you do when you have writers’ block?

I finish a thought. My form of writer’s block is coming up with a new idea. Case in point, I was reading The Da Vinci Code when I came up with a Western. I was writing BTOR when I came up with a gigantic, planet-impacting Science-Fiction story for which I’ve already written the first two books and a script.

Who are your five favourite authors?

Alexandre Dumas
Isaac Asimov
J. R. R. Tolkien
Alice Walker
Shakespeare

Who’s your favourite indie author and why?

Madolyn Locke. She happens to be my editor and the most frustrating writer I’ve ever worked with. I personally believe she’s a better writer than I am, but getting her to write a book is like pulling teeth… of a dragon… that’s breathing fire!

Oh boy!  Sounds like an interesting working relationship.
 What is your favourite quote?

“All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. This I did.”
T. E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia)

What’s your dream job and do you think you’ll do it one day?

Filmmaker and I do truly hope to return to that craft very, very soon!

Maybe you'll have some good material with all your writing. hey?
What do you enjoy doing when you’re not writing?

When I’m not writing, or thinking about writing, I’ll let you know.

LOL
What book clubs are you in?

It’s more of a writer’s club, but it’s a Facebook Group called the SciFi Roundtable. I’m also part of a co-op of writers and artists called the Confederacy of the Quill. In addition to our individual work, we publish an annual anthology of serials and short stories. This coming Valentine’s Day should see the SEVENTH volume of the SylverMoon Chronicles (which is the eighth book in the series). You can take a look at what we’ve done here,,, http://confederacyofthequill.com/site/

That's right.  We either met there #SFRT or Twitter.  Feels like I've know you for a while from good old social media :)
 How did you go about developing your cover artwork?

I am blessed! My editor started doing a search and she found a brilliant artist living in Sweden by the name of Thomas Wievegg. After one email conversation and the attachment of about ten pages, he produced the cover you see. It’s a depiction of Z’Gunok Tel Dungias before and after he becomes a Traveler.

Quick quiz:
Favourite thing to cook: Lasagne
Silliest saying: The dog’s name is Tiger.
Best holiday spot: Blue Ridge Mountains
Moist played song: LMAO – MOIST??? Don’t Stop Believin’ and just about anything by Prince, but Kiss and Purple Rain are probably the top two
Oopsy, typo, my bad.
SciFi or fantasy: I prefer Science-Fantasy!!!
Best superpower: crafting anti-devices i.e. a box that emits kryptonite radiation… or an EMP emitter that would fry the Iron Man suit… etc.
Number one thing to do on your bucket list: TRAVEL!!!

Thanks so much for joining me on the Readers' Lounge today, Russell.  Let's check out your links and read a bit from Star Chaser.

​​G. Russell Gaynor's Links

Amazon:https://www.amazon.com.au/Star-Chaser-Traveler-Beyond-Outer-ebook/dp/B07JR9DD5F/www.amazon.com.au/Star-Chaser-Traveler-Beyond-Outer-ebook/dp/B07JR9DD5F/ 

Websites: http://grussellgaynor.com/home/
                 www.b-t-o-r.com

Facebook:www.facebook.com/grgauthor/
BTOR on Facebook: www.facebook.com/beyondtheouterrim/

G_Russell_Gaynor on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3024715.G_Russell_Gaynor
 Reiter on Goodreads:https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3864794.Reiter

G. Russell on Twitter: @criticion
Reiter on Twitter: @thiamlord



G Russell Gaynor's Beyond the Outer Rim series:

Excerpt from: Star Chaser: The Traveler

“Take hold of the stick back there,” Nugar commanded.
“But I–”
“It’s not the first time you’ve been at the controls of a vehicle,” Nugar snapped. “Now take the stick and trust yourself for a change!” Dungias steadied his breathing as he put his right hand on the control stick and his left on the thruster control. It was a 360o movable handle, parallel to the floor, mounted on a lever that moved forward and back. Any movement from the handle would activate thruster jets. Moving the lever forward would increase forward thrust, and moving it back would activate reverse engines. “Automated landing cycle has been disengaged.” Nugar reported and Dungias could feel the nose pulling down.
“What is that?!” he quickly asked.
“I disengaged our automations; the docking system is not mine to command,” Nugar answered as he activated the armour for his fighter-craft. “And the Traveler docking system is notorious for catching many unwary Travelers at the end of long journeys, only to have them crash at the end.”
“No unnecessary movements,” Dungias whispered as he gently pulled back on the stick and eased the thruster lever forward. His light touch received a quick and ample response from the fighter.
“Instead of what you fear, tell me, what do you feel?” Nugar asked as he closed his eyes. “When you look beyond the fear, what do you feel?!”
Just over ten thousand trams from the docking aperture, Dungias calmed himself and tried to sense what his teacher might be talking about.
“He called it the black sea,” Dungias remembered. “And it is cold… very cold! But there is something else.” Dungias recalled what it was like to go swimming; something he had to plan and schedule in order to keep from encountering ill will. But there were many times when he would swim out to the middle of the pool and just float. “Yes, I see it now. I can feel it!” The thrusters fired, but never at too great a yield, and hardly for too long. The rocking of the ship settled to a slight shimmer and Nugar smiled.
“Well done, Dungi! Superb, in fact!”
Dungias piloted the ship to the allotted docking slip and the fighter was quickly secured. Nugar looked at his watch and chuckled.
“Are you up for a bit of a game?”
“Lead the way, Teacher!”
“That’s a good lad!”
The two of them ran back down the docking slip and Dungias could see Nugar take the stairs up to a catwalk which led to the main entrance for the docking bay … the main spacecraft entrance! He looked hard at his teacher, but the Vinthur’s strides were not shortening, nor were they slowing down. The end of the catwalk was in sight and there was no railing to prevent anyone from falling off the edge.
“There you go again!” Nugar shouted, almost singing what he was sensing coming from his student.
“It’s not about what you fear,” Dungias panted. “… it’s about what you feel beyond the fear!” Dungias looked away from the catwalk and put his sights on Nugar. He did not run like a mature man, but a child running toward a favorite toy. Making the final turn, a smile broke across Dungias’ face and he ran faster, beginning to overtake his teacher.
With very few strides in front of him, Nugar looked to the right. The whooping and hollering of other Travelers reached his ears. Each one of them had a smile on their faces and cheered Nugar on. He waved once at the collective and dove off the end of the catwalk. He was surprised to hear a cry of joy behind him. Looking back, Nugar could see Dungias still climbing from the leap he had taken. Both of their bodies passed through the atmospheric shield.
“Lean to your right, boy!” Nugar directed, holding out his right arm and throwing all of his bodyweight to his right shoulder. Without the artificial gravity, there was little descent to their flight paths, but even outside the station, there was some pressure, warmth, and breathable air. The cool air blew through his long hair and made his clothes flap around his body.
Dungias looked around Gavis as he flew. There was so much more to see from his vantage point. It did not look anything like a space station. The horizon reminded him of Threm, but now he was the slide-sled and he flew high and fast. The construct was massive; from the plating and paneling, to the lights and windows, to a couple filled with eager eyes gawking at the two flying forms that were, for some reason, not dying. He was distracted by the cackling of his teacher and he looked down on the man who was nearly glowing as brightly as the smile which shone across his face.
“Atmospheric curtain,” Nugar called out. “It extends beyond the portals of the station for nearly fifty trams! The trick is staying near a functioning entry port. Release your fear and fly with me, Dungi!”
“What fear?!” Dungias cried out as he soared ahead of Nugar. Keeping his heading going around the station, Dungias threw his body into a spin with his shoulders rotating clockwise. After three spins he threw out his arms and leveled out before diving straight down. Ten trams, then twenty, thirty, fifty, then one hundred and still he flew. He leveled out again and flew along the side of the station, screaming out as he glided around the outside of the station. Dungias performed another spin and Nugar tensed up as it appeared his student was about to hit hard against the side of
the station, but he leveled out with his chest parallel with the plating. Dungias allowed his fingertips to drag along the hull before pulling away from the station.
“Look at him!” Nugar thought, actually having to give some effort to keep up with his student. “I won’t have to teach him how to observe the world around him and gain from it. The landing assignments were on two of his consoles. There are at least three ways we can reach our destination. Leave it to my student to take the most precarious route. Yes, because if he is going to be the next Star Chaser, we want him to play it safe!
“Haa!” Nugar laughed at his own sarcasm and pressed for more speed. Dungias was beginning to pull away, and the danger of the route he had chosen was beginning to look simple for him and potentially treacherous for the Traveler.
As Dungias dove toward the security port, the large doors were only beginning to open and the fast-moving shuttle was making its way inside. Dungias landed on the nose of the craft and jumped clear of it, employing Pax’Dulah to give himself more lift and speed. Nugar timed his landing on the craft and used the blowback of the turning thruster to push him toward Dungias.
“Your left hand, Dungi!” Nugar called out and while laughing, Dungias jumped away from the station and held out his left hand that slapped against the forearm of Nugar’s extended right hand. “Now pull against me!” While the direction of their flight path did not change, the two spun around each other with their arms serving as the axle of this most impromptu wheel. Dungias looked up at the stars; his view, for the first time, unhindered by glass or iro-form. The majesty of them took hold of his mind and soul. As he gazed at them, it felt as if he could hear them singing.
“But what would a Star sing?” he thought.
“Get ready,” Nugar directed, bringing Dungias back to the moment. “And keep pulling!” They both screamed like children as the speed of their rotations increased. “Release!” Nugar commanded and Dungias was slung forward to the next public entryway while Nugar was sent toward the plating of Gavis.
“It can’t be!” Dungias exclaimed, knowing that what he saw was indeed quite accurate and very true. H’Dalvi’s gunship, which seemed so much larger from the outside than it had appeared during the many walks he had taken along its corridors, was making its entry into the station. Dungias smiled as he careened toward the large spacecraft, and he landed on the foredeck just in front of the bridge window. He squatted down and waved at Commander H’Dalvi and his bridge crew.


“Well, it’s been a few dockings since I’ve seen that,” Narwyss said with a smile as he recovered from the surprise. His voice helped the rest of the crew return to their duties more quickly.
“I agree,” Turo added. “And the last time either of us saw it, I believe it was a Vinthur.” The Sub-Officer folded his arms across his expansive chest and smiled. “That was a fine wager you made.”
“I took it as solid advice from a trusted resource,” Narwyss replied. “And speaking of good wagers, tell the crew that we are going to have a celebratory meal at ShoSoro’s. Anyone pulling guard duty gets two plates brought to them.”
“That will be quite costly,” Turo pointed out.
“It is already paid for, and there’s a few credits remaining for me to spoil my officers,” Narwyss said as Nugar landed beside Dungias. “Oh look! They come in pairs! Helm, make this as bumpy of a landing as you can manage.” There was laughter on the bridge as the Commander took his leave.
​
The story continues in Star Chaser: The Traveler

Other books by G. Russell Gaynor:

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​Romania. Sometimes I get chased away. Sometimes people bring me food. Occasionally someone actually stops and listens, which makes me smile.


Author Interview 
​
Hi Jay thanks for dropping by so I can pick your brains.  You've come in to talk about your novels, "Death by Haggis" and "Annie Gomez and the Gigantic Foot of Doom (fun titles).  What other writing have you done?
I’m the lead author of the three test preparation projects for Barron’s Educational Publishing. Two are on the MCAT exam and one is for the LSAT (med school and law school respectively.) Hopefully these works are non-fiction.

What makes your writing unique compared to others in the genre?
I tend to see the humor in the human condition and this comes out in my books. I certainly enjoy many non-humorous sci-fi and fantasy books, but my favorite authors – Terry Pratchett, Douglas Adams, Jasper Fford, Kage Baker, Connie Willis – leave me smiling because of the humor that flows from them.

Awesome!  I love that about you.  Even the book titles make me smile and want to read them.
What’s the story behind your book title?
Well, I had this nicely completed novel sitting in front of me without a name. Sort of like staring at your new-born baby and wondering what the heck you should call it. “Nigel” was out of the question, as was “Boy” or “Rex.”
Much of the narrative took place in Scotland. The story involved murder. “Some sort of murder via something Scottish” seemed a bit cumbersome, so I shortened it to “Death by Haggis.” Are you sorry you asked?
As for “Annie Gomez and the Gigantic Foot of Doom,” it was the only combination of words that had not yet been used as the title for a novel, as far as I could tell. From now on the rest of you will have to repeat already used titles. I would personally recommend “A Tale of Two Cities.” It has a particular ring to it and you have the choice of any two cities in the world. I’ve heard that Cleveland is particularly interested in being included.

What’s the basic plot of your book or series?
​Death by Haggis – Girl in distress finds bumbling detective. Detective falls in love and risks everything to save girl from being murdered. “Everything” includes his regular supply of tuna sandwiches and possibly his life. His sleuthing takes him to Scotland, where he stumbles across the remnants of an ancient branch of humanity. Then he travels to Greece, where he teaches the natives to make blueberry “cakes of Pan.” Eventually strange things happen.
Annie Gomez and the Gigantic Foot of Doom – A tenth grade girl is being manipulated by two different alien races, one of which is intent on destroying humanity and the other of which is trying to prevent that. But how is she to tell which is which? She and her gang of friends travel to a distant dimension and to a distant planet, meeting many friends, or possibly enemies. In the end Annie alone must face the alien who is about to eliminate humanity. Against overwhelming odds, she is overwhelmed. Will help come? Will it be in time? Or will this book end with all the characters you came to love being brutally destroyed? I’m not going to give it away.

How do you develop your characters?
This is a fascinating process. The characters all seem to be based on aspects of myself, often ones that I have only become aware of through other people or through the actual process of writing the character. The characters are mythological creatures, archetypes, in the sense of the Greek gods, who, unlike the western God, are full of lovable and hateable quirks and flaws.

Sounds like you put a lot of thought into it.  Makes me smile to think they are all you. :)
What are you working on now?
Lately I’ve been writing many short stories. I love writing them. They are like making cookies, as opposed to preparing a banquet for a thousand people (which is how writing novels feels to me.) Many of my recent stories have a very serious or poignant side and humor would not be appropriate in them. Others are silly. But they are all things that I feel need to be expressed and shared.
Just to give a simple example, I recently remember my grandpa – who died at the age of 102 in 1986 – singing “It ain’t gonna rain no more no more. It ain’t gonna rain no more. How in the heck can I wash my neck if it ain’t gonna rain no more.”
From that wonderful memory a story began to spin. It involved an old man living alone in a cabin in the country during a time when most of the water on Earth had disappeared and only the very wealthy had access to water. It hadn’t rained in years. His neck was probably quite dirty.
But what can one little old man with memories of better times do? He takes one last hike up to the only remaining reservoir to sit in the shade by the water, though the security guards there won’t even let him dip his feet in. And then …

How did you go about developing your cover artwork?
​For Death by Haggis I hired the daughter of my friend and co-author Terry Boothman. She has been a fantastic artist since she was two years old. For Annie Gomez I used part of the same artwork to modify a Createspace template, along with some additional public domain images. Did that one myself in a couple hours and I think it works pretty nicely. Or maybe I’m being deluded.

Quick quiz:
Favourite food: Haggis (I greatly enjoy not eating it.)
Silliest saying: Eat a nectarine. It’s the best fruit ever made.
Best holiday spot: Poughkeepsie
Favourite song at the moment: Sa mi canti cobzar batran ce va
With writing, are you a plotter or (seat-of-your) pantser? Both actually.
Star Wars or Lord of the Rings: Star Wars
Best superpower: I can leap really short buildings, though it may take me a couple bounds.
Number one thing to do on your bucket list: Meet Mel Brooks

​Jay, thanks so much for sharing with us.  You're such and interesting and relatable guy to chat to.  Best of luck with your writing.

​Folks, we have some special sneak peeks of Jay's novels, so keep reading and prepare to be entertained. :)

· Publish date: 2015
· Publisher: self


· Extract:

When a 10th grade girl who has flunked every quiz and test for the entire semester aces her biology final with a perfect score, there is only one explanation. What bothered Dr. Tripledoor, the biology teacher, more than the score itself, though, was the answer that Annie Gomez had put down for the extra credit essay question: What in your opinion most makes biology relevant to our lives? Instead of the ever popular I love biology because it lets us eat and sleep or (giggle, giggle) Without biology there would be no reason for Saturday night dates, Annie had written:
The human race faces the very real and immediate danger of total extinction NOW.
She had also decorated each end of her sentence with a very neat but not biologically accurate picture of a flower, colored with pink highlighter.
The reason this answer caused Dr. Tripledoor undue anxiety was that he feared she was right. There was only one thing that would explain a 10th grade girl flunking every test and quiz and then achieving a perfect score and writing that essay. Alien intervention.
Dr. Tripledoor stroked his small, graying goatee and stared into space. He wasn't musing or contemplating or wondering. He was purposely staring into space because that, he knew, was where the danger, and just possibly the solution, lay. And, truth be told (though Dr. Tripledoor may not have liked it to be told) he was gripped by a cold, hopeless fear. Compared to the immensity of space, he suddenly felt infinitely tiny. Compared to space, he was, in fact, infinitely tiny1, but being a biologist and not an astronomer, he had never considered the fact before. To make things worse, he suddenly realized that, as it was five o'clock on Friday, he was probably the only person left in the school building. A shiver ran up his spine. He jumped up and began collecting the papers he still had to grade, along with his lunch bag, walking stick, sunglasses, and a freeze-dried scorpion that he planned to add to his "terrarium of death" (his favorite hobby) over the weekend.
Before he left the room, he wrote a small note to himself and stuck it on the middle of his desk. "Monday. Warn Annie." Then, keeping his eyes down, he scurried (in a shuffling sort of way) out of the building, into his car, and away.
Annie Gomez was not the type of person who usually needed warning. She was also not the type of person who usually flunked quizzes and tests. She was, even by her own acknowledgement (though she never said so out loud) the brightest person in Highbotham High School. Something had to be terribly wrong for her to mess up so badly. Something far beyond the normal terribly wrong things that she had recently become aware of. Injustice, for example. It had been just at the beginning of the school year – only nine months ago now – that she had noticed that not only was injustice rampant but that its opposite – the supposedly noble justice – hardly seemed to exist at all.
How just was it, to take one random example, that she, the smartest kid in the school and the tallest girl in 10th grade, hardly had any friends? That most of the other students in her class couldn't find anything even faintly interesting to talk about? That the girls were all obsessed with hair and makeup, whereas she was obsessed with justice, hair, and makeup? That boys could barely talk to her at all, except for cracking jokes that would strike a third grader as unsophisticated?2
Clearly, injustice was rampant and the main victim of it was her. But not only her! There were others as reviled and denigrated3. It had been her task to find these people and protect them. That was how Annie's Coterie4 had come into being at the beginning of the school year. The AC (as it was referred to by the members of the AC, as opposed to the Goatery, as it was referred to by those who were not members of the Goatery) currently comprised six fellow miscreants. Annie had carefully chosen students who were outsiders, who were radically different, and whom the mindless pack of normal kids instinctively shunned. And of course her members all adored her. Who wouldn't?
Her first recruit had been Andy Kanayurak. Andy's father was Inuit (Eskimo, to the uninitiated). Andy's mother was African-American. Nobody knew what to make of Andy. The round, cheery cheeks and almond-shaped eyes he inherited from his father twinkled like Arctic snow. The chocolate skin he inherited from his mother spoke of the African sun. His father's genes had relaxed his hair just enough to make his abundant Afro cascade like a fountain. He seemed to transcend race and that scared a lot of kids. It's also what made Andy incredibly cool. He would tell people, "Hey, race is a non-issue. If you went far enough back and figured out who your ancestors really were, everybody would seem like your cousin." Andy had a fantastic sense of humor about identity. If a cop hassled him, he'd say, "Is this because I'm an Eskimo?" which usually left the officer with his mouth hanging open.
Andy was the second smartest person at Highbotham. According to Annie, there were a number of second smartest people but most of them were smart in one particular area. Andy was
smart in everything. He was even a good cook. His best grades were in math5. However, his real passion was theatre. He loved becoming a new character and bringing that character to life. His portrayal of Anne Frank (in drag and with serious amounts of makeup) had brought tears to the eyes of, well, none of the students, since it is not at all cool to cry in high school, but to most of the faculty and parents in the audience. Even Keri Jenkins, reporter for the school newspaper had admitted:


Andy Kanayurak's performance as a Black Eskimo Anne Frank was the most unusual thing that this reporter has ever seen, and I've seen Sharon Anderson in a bikini (no offense, Sharon)

Barlow's desperate search takes him first to the Highlands of Scotland and then to the Aegean. But time is running out. Not only for Jane but for the human race. Barlow's only possible hope lies at the bottom of an ancient cavern, a remnant from the time when a different kind of human populated the Earth, a kind of human that could have saved mankind. Alas, they are long extinct. Or are they?


· Publish date: 2013
· Publisher: Self


· Extract:
A Tuna Sandwich, A Redhead and a Magnum
Sam Barlow, Private Eye, sat in his cluttered office, working tuna salad on Kimmelwick and cold coffee, and watching the light from his tiny window make French impressionist rhomboids on the desk when she walked in, sporting a body like a Japanese sneak attack, a face that could make him crawl all the way to Sandusky wearing nothing more than a rain hat and a two-dollar phony smile, and a trained parrot that said, “Touch her and I claw your eyes out.”
"Are you half the man they say you are?" she purred from the doorway. Barlow stopped in mid bite. He had no time for beautiful, intelligent, sensitive dames who desperately needed his help. Ok, ok, he did have time. He just couldn't quite make his mouth work.
"Yeah, sure. No," he mumbled. He pointed to the straight-backed wooden chair in the corner, half covered with old magazines. "Ya wanna sit down or something?" He wiped a dribble of mayo off his mouth with the back of his hand and then held his hand in the air while he looked in vain for something to wipe it with. He could tell she was looking at him. There was no place to hide.
"I … didn't mean that you're half a man …" Barlow managed to look up. Her face was starting to flush. God, she's beautiful, he thought. And she's almost as nervous as I am. "I just meant that they say you're a swell detective and I didn't mean that you're short or …Ohhh." Dabbing at her eyes with her left hand, she swept some magazines off the chair and collapsed into it. "Could you please look the other way? My stocking is driving me crazy."
He couldn't. He tried to move his head but his eyes were glued to her leg. Finally he put his hand over his eyes. "Sorry. Neck problem. Go ahead."
"Ok. You can look now." Barlow put his hand down. He looked at her. She sat there, quietly, not talking, just looking at him, like … like … a dog, he thought. Yeah, like how a dog just looks at you like your its best friend and it's happy just to wait there and look at you until you think of something to play…
"Say, do you happen to have any cookies, Mr. Barlow?"
"Cookies? Sure. Hey, just sit, ok? Stay." He got up and walked over to the filing cabinet. He always kept a few snacks there but he never remembered if they were under S for snack or C for cookies. He found an oatmeal cookie that had been filed under F for no particular reason and brought it over to her.
“Thank you. I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven't eaten much for days. Please, Mr. Barlow, I need help. I just found out that,” and she looked off as though watching a distant thunderstorm approaching on the horizon, “my world is collapsing,” she thought to herself. “But I can’t tell him that.”
Barlow followed her gaze off into the distance but he didn't see anything. "I can't help ya if you don't talk to me," he said. "I know it's hard. I see dames like you all the time." No, I don't, he said to himself. I've never seen a dame like you. "What say me and you go downstairs to the Filthy Barrel and talk over a beer?"
"What say you and I go downstairs," she intoned.
"Yeah, sure. That's what I said."
"No. You said 'me and you'."
"Ok. This conversation is getting crowded. Oh, and by the way, you do have a name, don't ya?"
"Oh, Mr. Barlow. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm so nervous. You can call me … Jane."
"Jane, eh? Ok, 'Jane'." Barlow grabbed his coat off the back of the chair, grabbed his magnum from the desk and walked over to Jane. “You can call me Sam.” He stuck his hand out and she took it in both of hers and gave it a squeeze. Barlow froze. In his mind time rewound itself and he was suddenly on a playground in front of a swing set, waiting and waiting for a turn that never came until Susie Lonergan took his hand and gently led him over to the nearest swing and asked the kid there if he would let this little boy have a turn …
Time returned. They left the office. Barlow stopped to set the thirteen locks and five booby traps that kept every thug in town out of his records. They stepped into the elevator. The door closed and they found themselves pressed a little too closely together for either one's comfort, but for different reasons. "Down, Pepe," he half shouted.
They stopped on the 1st floor. He took Jane by the elbow and lurched into the lobby of the old Stansfield Building. They walked briskly to the magazine stand where Barlow dropped two bits for a copy of Modern Bride - he liked the pictures - then to the street.
“I have to tell you the truth,” Jane said as they walked in the light drizzle. “Sam, I think someone’s trying to kill me.”
Barlow grabbed her by the arm and yanked her out from under the shadow of the piano that was falling from five stories up. It crashed loudly on the street, playing the final chord from some Rachmaninov concerto, if there was such a thing.
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s just this creepy feeling. And this note." She pulled a crumpled bit of paper from a hiding place in her blouse. It read, “Somebody's trying to kill me, I think."

Hey folks, check out Jay's links before you go:

​Links:

Website: https://cuttsbooks.wordpress.com
Blog: same
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5523585.Jay_Cutts
Twitter: @jaycuttsbooks
Book trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzC2Hu3N6Cw&t=5s
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=dp_byline_sr_book_1?ie=UTF8&text=Jay+B+Cutts&search-alias=books&field-author=Jay+B+Cutts&sort=relevancerank
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/jcutts

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Along the way he meets other dangerous characters including Shame Cullen; murderous twins Foss and Faust, as well as Durban Chola who is more than he first appears. One character who stood out to me amid all the violence and dark scheming was Charis, who trusts Avilon and whom I found to be the most relatable character in the story. I found it difficult to connect with many of the blunt, no-nonsense fighters, but I sense that Charis will be the heart of this series. That said, I could be wrong, for I have idea where this grand space adventure will lead.
What's to like: the world-building is well done and you can almost see the snub guns, A.I. mechs, holofacade wall and picture the brain-linked data port. The characters are complex, flawed and well described. The writing style is good and easy to follow.
The downsides: I found it a bit slow in places, where so much back story, talking and character thoughts took place that the action seemed a bit slow. I would also like to have felt more of an emotional connection to the characters.
Trust a Few is the perfect name for an interesting novel. I recommend it for fans of dystopian sci-fi.
I bought this novel on the recommendation of a friend.

An interesting concept from author Bonnie Milani, is the house bugs, AKA giant hairy spiders, which can be quite the docile type, but can also be aggressive and murderous. There is the whole Black Widow, death-after-mating thing going on here, so it's no wonder there aren't many guys hanging around. Another Sissy planet nasty is the man-eating Nosher plant with its deadly tendrils.
The most enjoyable character for me was Sam, the spider who lives with Nikki, kinda like an eight-legged creepy-looking brother type. Sam is actually really sweet, loyal and noble. He is the only person who is nice to Nikki in the whole story. Unfortunately his future is pretty bleak, with him likely to be mated and eaten in the near future.
The story begins with Nikki searching the house for the book of Grimms, the only book on the entire planet. I didn't really get hooked in by this beginning and ended up having to re-read the first chapter to take in all the alien world-building. There is plenty of information at the start as Milani draws you into her world. Once I got into the story, I found it well-paced and enjoyable.  Other interesting concepts included the click speech of the house bugs and the chron implant, which was mentioned briefly. There is action aplenty and a few surprises to keep you guessing. I did find it a little tricky to figure out who was a human and who was a spider, as the personalities seem rather similar. On the whole, I enjoyed Cherry Pickers and would recommend it to new adult readers.
​I bought this book on Amazon and this is my honest opinion of the novel.
​