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Infiniby Krista & Becca Ritchie Aerial Ethereal #2 Publication Date: January 31, 2017 Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance
“Don’t have a best friend that’s a girl” — this was the advice from my older cousin. I didn’t take it. Because he followed with, “friends don’t f*ck friends. And you’ll want to f*ck her.” It was terrible advice. My cousin should’ve told me that being best friends with Baylee Wright — since she was twelve — would be the best and worst decision of my life. He should have told me to protect her from what was coming. He should have told me that when a darkness crawled towards us, there’d be no safety net. Now I’ve signed back on to the same Vegas acrobatic show as Baylee, working together for the first time in years. And she tells me that she’s having trouble in a certain “area” of her life — because of our past. “You can help me fix it,” she says. And then she hands me a list.
About Krista & Becca Ritchie Krista & Becca Ritchie are New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors and identical twins—one a science nerd, the other a comic book geek—but with their shared passion for writing, they combined their mental powers as kids and have never stopped telling stories. Now in their early twenties, they write about other twenty-somethings navigating through life, college, and romance. They love superheroes, flawed characters, and soul mate love. They are the New Adult authors of the Addicted series and Calloway Sisters spin-off series, and you can find them on almost every social media, frolicking around like wannabe unicorns.
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Sci-Fi
Date Published: Jan 2016 (paperback Dec 2016)
Sam, an ex-soldier who is trying to rediscover himself after twenty years of service, unwittingly stumbles upon a mysterious alien presence in rural Wales. He is drawn into a tangled web of intrigue, pitting him against forces bent on destruction and putting his life in peril. Feeling mentally eroded by his time in the army and having worked hard to overcome this, he is thrust upon an alien journey that will change his life and beliefs in a profound way.
Claims of benevolence are only the beginning of the mysteries he'll have to unravel as doubt and mistrust haunt him. He will have to form unlikely alliances in order to fathom the mysteries at the secret Mineran enclave, where intrigue, deception and imminent danger reside.
His journey for answers will introduce him to pernicious enemies with hidden agendas, as a heinous plot to kill him unravels. Can he defeat his personal demons to secure justice and discover the truth of who or what is behind the nefarious machinations and why?
Excerpt
Sam could see rows of large stacked cubes. They were polished bright, reflecting the light from overhead. Sam cast a questioning glance at Reb.
‘Would it make sense if I said they are a by-product of the process? To be precise, they are two-metre tall cubes of solid steel or eight cubic metres of steel weighing over sixty-two thousand kilogrammes each. Does that help?’ The sarcastic tone failed to mask Reb’s amusement at Sam’s quandary.
Sam touched one of the cubes as he walked by. The sides were perfectly smooth, and he couldn’t see the top as it was above his head height. The edges and corners were rounded, giving the cubes a look of gigantic dice.
A subdued glow was faintly visible from the end of the conveyor. Sam calculated it to be a quarter of a mile away. He didn’t bother to figure out how many barrels were passing him on the conveyor. A steady stream of them, spaced six feet apart, were travelling lengthways, slightly faster than the pace they were walking at. They disappeared ahead, near the glow. Sam could not make out what was happening, it all seemed to be occurring in shadows, which didn’t make sense as it was also glowing.
He picked up his pace a bit, subconsciously eager to solve the mystery. ‘Do I need to wear a suit or anything?’ he enquired.
‘No, but do not and I stress DO NOT touch anything. In fact, put your hands in your pockets when you get there,’ Reb replied cryptically.
He could feel the heat; it was definitely getting warmer as he drew nearer to the glow. The air had the feel of a smithy he had once visited. It had a perceptible ferrous taste. He could partially see the end wall of the tunnel thirty or forty feet behind the glow, but something large and dark was obscuring the view.
The conveyor ended suddenly with a short downward section. The barrels seemed to enter a dark cave. Bastards, he thought, they are dumping the drums, after all, that bullshit and holier-than-thou crap he had been fed. The bright glow prevented him from seeing into the new cave or tunnel entrance. It seemed to be a set of ultra-bright strip lights. In his haste, Sam had gotten ahead of Reb at this point; he looked back with anger in his eyes.
‘You go ahead, I’ll catch you up. For your own safety, please do not go up the gantry steps or go into the red zone.’
Sam didn’t realise it, but he had broken out into a small jog as he strained to see clearly what was happening. What seemed to be a tunnel entrance from further back must be the opening of a large twenty-foot diameter pipe, whose opening was facing directly at him as the opening was floating in the centre of the tunnel.
He could see the barrels rise to the top of the conveyor’s apex and then descend, lost in the illumination from the bright strip lights. At thirty feet, his assumptions fell apart. He could see that the glowing strip lights were, in fact, a constant stream of bright luminescent liquid flowing into a grill in the floor. ‘None of this makes sense,’ he muttered to himself. ‘If the liquid was the toxic waste, what’s the pipe for?’ He looked back at Reb. ‘I don’t understand, you’re just dumping it all into the ground, but what’s the pipe for?’
‘Look closer, Sam, you not allowing yourself to see the truth.’
Sam paused at the railings which separated the danger zone from the walkway with the aid of red markings on the floor, defining a twenty-foot radius from the illicit dumping area. The whole area was brightly lit. The liquid wasn’t luminescent. It was white hot. He could feel the heat searing his skin even from this distance. The pipe was blacker than night. It was void of any reflection from the incandescent liquid that was pouring down. The barrels moved along the conveyor, and they should have fallen into the centre of the dark yearning chasm and rolled away. Instead, they seemed to hit a solid barrier. Where the metal met the beginning of the opening, it instantly became molten liquid, running down across an invisible surface and into the grate in the floor.
Sam walked around the railing to try and see the process from the side. He didn’t hear Reb as he eventually ambled alongside him. There was no pipe, there was no nothing. From his vantage point at the side, the barrels stopped their descent from the conveyor in mid-air. The metal simply melted as if it were merely chocolate touching a white hot skillet. It ran down and back towards the direction of the conveyor. A river of molten metal floated in the air as if it were on top of an invisible thin sheet of glass that was set at a thirty-five-degree angle. Sam walked further round to see if he could make sense of what he was seeing. All he could see was blackness, a huge disc of blackness.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘My ancient ancestors with their primitive minds called it “Dia Kuklos” because they could go through the circle. This is the cause of distortion here in Minera. This is what we guard, keep secret and safe. This is our primary duty.’
‘So is this a black hole? Shouldn’t all of our solar system be sucked into it?’
‘No, you’re not seeing what is in front of you, Sam. Come back to the front and watch.’ Sam and Reb walked back along the railing to view the barrels landing on the Dia Kuklos.
‘Think back to the balloon model we discussed. If two distortions happened to touch each other, they’d perforate the fabric of space and link together. You can literally step through one side to the other. Your scientists theorise about this and commonly call them wormholes. There’s no tunnel connecting them. Both openings occupy the same space at the same time. They have many names in different cultures throughout the universe such as spatial apertures or perforations, portals, Quantum eyelets, interstices.’
He looked at Sam, beaming. ‘Cool, eh? So we are using this cosmic abnormality to dump your toxic waste. Just not where you thought. The metal can’t get through the surface tension. The reaction is so volatile that it melts upon contact. We use this to allow the waste to escape and flow through while collecting the metal for recycling.’
‘So you’re saying I could step through to wherever you are dumping this stuff?’
‘Well, you could step through, Sam, but you wouldn’t last very long. The other side is in a fixed position near a star you call Canopus. Over the course of a year or so, the waste is gently drawn in by its gravitational pull and destroyed. The aperture itself is black because neither side opens facing the star. If you could pop your head through and look to the right...’ Reb shrugged and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. ‘I was hoping to have thought of something witty to say by now, but, there you go. What else can I do to prove to you we are the good guys?’ He handed Sam the small stone from his pocket. ‘Go ahead and toss it in, watch it float away. Do it from the other side to get a better view.’
Sam walked to the rear side of the aperture and gently, with an underarm throw, tossed the stone through the portal. It physically slowed as it passed through what Reb had called the surface tension. It carried on into the darkness with its left-hand side clearly visible as it was being illuminated by the unseen sun.
‘Why are you guarding these, why the secrecy?’
‘Why? Well, that’s a long story, but I’ll keep it brief. My race evolved on planet Minera long before the Overseer arrived. As our population spread over the planet, legend says they found a portal and called it “Dia Kuklos”. It happened in the midst of the harshest winter in history. My primitive ancestors found a window to a sunny world; it saved thousands of lives. They sought refuge through it and others harvested food and brought it back. Over the centuries, we eventually learnt how to detect the distortions in the fabric of space and found thirty more on our planet. Because of the nature of their original creation, these portals were always located within spatial distortions like Minera, making them difficult to find unless you know what to look for. Not all distortions contained a portal and many, being like this one, open into empty space, or hundreds of feet above the ground. As our technology evolved and resources dwindled, we abused these portals to other worlds to carry out raids and wage war.’
‘We discovered one portal close to a black hole. The conflicting forces waged between the portal, and the event horizon of the black hole made it jittery. The other end wasn’t permanently fixed. It sporadically lashed across the universe, momentarily setting on other portals. We learnt how to manipulate it with gravitational and spatial distorting fields. We could lock onto other portals within its original range. It is, to this date, the only one we know of with this ability. History says we were ruthless, relentless and barbaric. To the unwary, we came out of nowhere. Whole armies massed secretly in the distorted areas, unseen by the local population. It was an era of terror that we waged covertly over the universe and a shame we still carry. The Overseer stopped this. Somehow he changed the surface tension on all of the portals. Nothing but light passed through; they became useless windows. In one fell swoop, he had isolated us. We had no long distance space travel technology as we had never needed to develop it. Our planet was over populated, and resources strained. He gave us an ultimatum, either we sign up and with our knowledge locate these portals throughout the universe and guard them against further abuse or he would cause our extinction.’
‘The elders in their vanity would not bow down to an unknown enemy, and millions died as ruthless factions fought amongst each other for the dwindling resources. After 225 years of planet-bound war, they realised no children had been born. We had been sterilised. The last generation to be born were now in charge, and the war machine had fizzled out long ago. The remaining populace had reverted to a simpler way of life. The preservation of life and the recovery of our planet became almost a religion. It was a hybrid of high technology and ecological, environmentally friendly living. On the eve of 250 years, the Overseer spoke again. The message was clear: police the portals for him or die out. The rest is history, as they say, they capitulated, and we have served him ever since. The Overseer returned to us the ability to reproduce and the use of the portals, though he has never allowed any metal to pass through since.’
‘Well, that’s not what I expected. I don’t know what to say.’
‘There is nothing to say, but you can see a similarity between our chequered history and how your civilisation’s developing. It took a long time for our planet to recover from our greed and negligence.’ Reb ushered Sam back around with his arms. ‘We try to keep the portals secret to make our life easier. There are only a few races out there that are partially aware of them. For some they are a thing of myth and legend, magic gateways to other worlds, but nothing more.’
Sam subconsciously switched the case to his left arm as he walked back around.
‘The process,’ swinging his arm at the conveyor, ‘should end in a few minutes, then we have a few people to see.’
About the Author
Born in England and raised in Wales, I started my working life on a farm in the glorious rural Welsh countryside. I retrained to become an IT Consultant and having spent thousands on Microsoft, CompTIA and Cisco qualifications; I also obtained a contract to run and teach at a Cisco Academy in England. After this, I became a small business IT Advisor for WCBC and the Welsh Government. As this funding dried up, I retrained as a Business Advisor and have since helped thousands of people start up their own businesses.
In my leisure time, I work my way through a comprehensive bucket list with my Fiancée, Cath. This has caused us great delight as we have attended various courses and fun days out, such as beekeeping, pottery making, stained glass making, painting course, cooking courses, hawk walks, animal experiences, quad biking, gorge walking and much more. Our favourite one is learning to dance. This activity has remained with us and will hopefully do so for the rest of our lives. We can do a reasonable Waltz, collapse in laughter trying the Viennese Waltz, but it is the 1920’s Lindy Hop that we have fallen in love with. After three years of dancing, we still attend regular dance classes and events.
Strangely, for an ex-geek, my favourite gadget is my Italian Marcato pasta machine. I love real, unprocessed food and my freshly made pasta with a home cooked sauce is amazing.
I have always enjoyed reading, and in my early teenage years, I read authors ranging from Harry Harrison to HG Wells. Later in life, I turned to thriller writers such as the 3 C’s; Clancy, Cussler and Child. Also, I will always have a Pratchett book on my phone for light reading. His imagination was and always will be, inspiring. I have wanted to write the Mineran Series for several years prior to actually starting and with the encouragement from Cath, who has suffered my many varied, imaginative pranks over the years, I have begun.
Contact Links
Facebook: /pnburrows
Twitter: @pnburows
Purchase Links
The Knight
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-- EXCERPT: A sleek black limo idles in the center of the parking lot, the gleaming black stark against the backdrop of cracked concrete and cigarette-littered gravel. It’s not for me, I tell myself. It can’t be. It’s probably one of Chastity’s customers. At eight o’clock in the morning. In the cheapest motel in Tanglewood. The driver steps out and nods to me in that deferent, discreet way that drivers have. My stomach sinks. He opens the back door and stands beside it, a silent invitation. A tacit command from the man inside. My feet move me across the pavement, breath trapped. It’s that moment when you’ve slammed your finger in a door, before the pain has registered, when your mind is all too aware of what comes next. The shadowed interior hides his face, but I know who it is before he speaks. “Good morning,” comes the low voice of the man who made me come on his desk. The door shuts behind me, enclosing me in the warm darkness. A shuffle of papers. The scratch of a pen. As the darkness solidifies, I see him reclined in the back of the limo, focused on a stack of papers in front of him. Working, like I’m a distraction. “I’m your ride.” He doesn’t even look up. “Excuse me?” “To Landon Moore’s office. That is where you’re going, I assume.” My eyes narrow. “How do you know that?” Finally he looks up, his golden gaze searing me. “Because you’ll do anything to get your house back. It’s the only place you feel safe, isn’t it? The only place you felt loved?” My stomach clenches. “How did you know where to find me?” “I don’t think you need me to answer that.” Because he knows everything that happens in the city. He could have had me followed after I left his office yesterday, but odds are he knew where I was before. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather walk on nails than ride with you.” I pull the latch to discover that the door is locked. From the inside. My gaze flies to him. “You’re kidnapping me?” “Unfortunately,” he says with fake sympathy. “You’ll have to explain to the cops how I abducted you and transported you in comfort to your previously planned destination.” The car glides forward, as if connected to his very will. Asshole. I glare at him, settling into the warm leather. Are these seats heated? Of course they are. I have to admit this is way more comfortable than the city bus, but everything has a cost. And when it comes to Gabriel Miller, the cost is always too high. “Why are you doing this?” “Does it matter?” he asks, his voice faintly mocking. “As a gentleman your comfort is my highest priority. It’s enough to be of service to you.” “You’re not a gentleman.” “Probably right. In that case I’m coming with you to see sweet old Uncle Landon give you the horrible news, to see your face fall as he assures you there’s nothing you can do.” My throat constricts. “Can’t you find someone else to torture?” “No one nearly as pretty. Besides, my presence has some advantages.” “My very own supply of fire and brimstone?” “People are more inclined to tell the truth when I’m in the room. My reputation for dealing with liars and cheats is somewhat brutal.” He leans forward, his eyes reflecting sunlight. “All of it true, I’m afraid.” I’m living proof of that, the fallout from my father’s decision to steal. “Be careful or I might think you’re actually being nice to me.” A short laugh. “Not a chance. It will be my pleasure to see Landon Moore break. And even sweeter to watch you break, too. A show I can’t pass up.”
GIVEAWAY!
Handcuffs aren’t just part of their job...
HEARTBREAKER
Filthy Dirty Love #1
Stacey Kennedy
Releasing Jan 31st, 2017
Handcuffs aren’t just part of their job in this sizzling new standalone novel by USA Today bestselling author, Stacey Kennedy.
Veteran cop, Maddox Hunt, is all about the job. Sure, there are women—lots of women, truth be told—but there’s no one special. Until a one-night stand from his past, rookie Joss O’Neil is assigned to his division. Suddenly, all he can think about is her. The scent of her. The taste of her.
Fresh out of field training, Joss has thrown herself into her job, determined to kick-start her career. And while police work has its thrills, her gorgeous new boss is what really gets her pulse pounding. Too bad he’s nothing but a distraction. Especially since he’s as devastatingly handsome as she remembers, and his sexy smile arrests her heart.
Now that Joss is back in Maddox’s life, he has a plan: satisfy her fantasies and fulfill his every dark desire. Nothing is off limits. Her pleasure is the endgame . . . but even the best-laid plans have a way of falling apart. Despite his best attempts to keep his distance and have things remain only about the pleasure, Maddox soon finds himself breaking the only law he’s set for himself. Don’t fall in love.
   
STACEY KENNEDY is the USA Today bestselling author of the Dirty Little Secrets and Club Sin series. She writes deeply emotional romances about powerful men and the wild women who tame them. When she’s not writing sensual stories, she spends her time in southwestern Ontario with her real life hero, her husband, their two young children, and her other babies: a mini labradoodle named Jax and a chocolate labrador named Murphy. Stacey is a proud chocolate, television show, Urban Barn, and wine addict. She likes her heroes in her books like she likes her coffee . . . strong and hot!
Title: Allison in Wonderland: An Erotic Novel
Author: Ray Sostre Genre: Adult, Erotic Fantasy Adventure Published: January 31, 2017 
      Back at the tea party, Allison proceeded to pour another cup of jasmine tea. Despite her need to go, she was enjoying the delicious tea and treats of sandwiches and cakes. Everyone at the table continued to talk and share fond memories of Dormouse and Mr. Rabbit, except Allison, since she had no clue who they were, but she learned how much they were the life of the party a long time ago. While Allison listened to the conversation, she felt Willow’s hand slide across her hip, which for some reason made her nipples grow hard under her teddy and a delicious ache grow in her core. Never before had she felt turned on by another woman, but Willow’s touch had seemed to hit the right nerve in her body. If this was another woman, Allison would’ve fended her off, but for some reason, she wasn’t protesting the way Willow was touching her. The Willow leaned over and asked, “How did you like the tea?” Allison turned to her and said, “It’s very good. In fact, this is the best tea I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.” “Would you like me to show you the garden? I’m sure you’ll like the smell of the flowers, and I can tell you’re getting quite bored with this conversation, since you didn’t know who these men were.” For some reason, Allison couldn’t say no, and the way Willow slid her hand up her thigh, Allison was feeling moisture growing inside her. Why couldn’t she say no? Allison couldn’t because she was feeling turned on by her. “Sure,” Allison obliged when she moved her hand on top of Willow’s, and the two got up from their seats and walked away from the table. The table didn’t even ask where they were going; they just kept talking. Allison was taken to a lush garden filled with flowers of lavender and jasmine. The smell was very euphoric; a fresh smell of spring in the air. “I have to say,” Willow said, “you have very soft hands.” “Thank you.” The two continued to walk inside the garden where they sat on a bench together, surrounded by tall flowers that secluded them from everyone else. For some reason, Allison felt a knee-weakening feeling growing. She had never been with a woman before, nor ever kissed one, but Allison was willing, since the moment felt right. She felt comfortable, and the way Willow was caressing her hand had Allison’s heart beating really fast. “Um, Willow, there’s one thing I need to tell you.” “What’s that?” “I’ve never … kissed a woman before.” Willow was intrigued, “Really?” “Um, yeah.” Then Willow inched closer to her. “Why don’t you relax; I promise to make you feel comfortable.” 
     
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Ronelle Antoinette was born in Phoenix, AZ and raised in beautiful Colorado. She currently lives in Grand Junction with her husband, two sneaky cats, and one dog-who-believes-he's-a-person. While she’s a mother to none, she’s an auntie to a small army...the newest recruit joined them in April 2016. Ronelle dabbled in creative writing for many years and even considered it as her major in college. (She ended up getting a Bachelor's degree in Counseling Psychology.) She published her first novel, Errant Spark, in July of 2016. Dream. Come. True.
Jan. 23: 
Aurora Publicity is pleased to bring you Collette Cameron's 
An escapee from the Pacific Northwest’s rainy, gray coast, COLLETTE CAMERON believed teaching her destiny until she dared to tap out her first novel. She’s been enthralled with writing ever since. Blessed with three spectacular children, fantastic fans, and a compulsive, over-active, and witty Muse who won’t stop whispering new romantic romps in her ear, she still lives in Oregon with her mini-dachshunds, though she dreams of living in Scotland part-time. A bestselling, award-winning author, Collette pens Scottish and Regency historicals featuring rogues, rapscallions, rakes, and the intelligent, intrepid damsels who reform them. You’ll always find dogs, birds, occasionally naughty humor, and a dash of inspiration in her sweet-to-spicy timeless romances. A member of Novelist Inc., Romance Writers of America, as well as several RWA chapters including The Beau Monde, Hearts Through History, Celtic Hearts, Rose City Romance Writers, and the Greater Seattle Romance Writers, Collette admits to a quirky sense of humor, enjoys trivia and inspiring quotes, adores castles and anything cobalt blue, and is a self-confessed Cadbury chocoholic. Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, too many flowers, or too many books. She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list. CONNECT WITH COLLETTE: 
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Contemporary romance and romantic suspense … written with feeling L.A is author of contemporary romance novels ranging from sweet with just a hint of steam, to suspenseful reads full of angst, tension, twists and turns. Home is a small town in the middle of England where she currently juggles being a full-time mum to two little people with writing. In her spare time (and when she’s not camped out in front of the laptop) you’ll most likely find L. A immersed in a book, escaping the chaos that is life.