October 23, 2023
Have you started Christmas shopping yet? You still have time.
Books make a great gift, especially for those on your list who love to read. Most books are cheap and small enough to stuff into stockings.
May I recommend my own novels? I have 22 books on Amazon (both paperback and e-books), all at a reasonable price. They are classed under science fiction, but I promise you’ve never read science fiction like mine. I call it “Science Fiction that doesn’t Taste like Science Fiction”. Why? Because it’s more about people than science.
I don’t do aliens. I don’t do horror. I don’t do magic. I don’t do supernatural. My heroes are human. They solve problems using human talent, not fairy-tale magic. In my novels, all set either in the future or other galaxies, the characters suffer from human nature (which will never change, no matter what Gene Roddenberry thought). They have human talents and human flaws. Most of them are just like you and me.
So…why not give them a go? Twenty-two novels in three series. I promise you won’t be disappointed.
Today’s featured title: A Vow to Sophia
This is the first novel in the Fighter Queen series, and was my first novel ever published. It’s about a young, vulnerable girl alone in a hostile galaxy. Her mother and sister have been forced into slavery, and she is next. Unless…
Her father bribes a spacer to get his child to Terra, where she will be safe. Never could he imagine the adventure that awaits her…and neither could she.
Here’s an excerpt:
It was midnight when Adam peered out from an alley to check for curfew patrols. Across the street, outlined against the night sky, the Temple of Sophia sat majestically atop a pyramidal mound of earth, surrounded by lush gardens and gushing fountains. Marble steps led up to it on all three sides, and Adam made sure the street was clear before he hurried across and began the climb, starkly aware of the ringing sound his shoes made against the marble. Both moons were up, one in full phase, casting a silvery light from two directions. Had it not been for the danger of discovery, he might have enjoyed the beauty.
He reached the temple and stepped between the pillars, entering the Sanctum, where he descended the steps between rows of lush leather seats to the dais in the center. Goddess Sophia stood proud and serene, her multi-hued garments rippling with color and light, her eyes seeming to follow him as he approached. Incense burned at her feet, and candles flickered around the base of the statue. Adam reached the dais and knelt on one knee, ducking his head as he made the Sign of the Cult, a triangular motion that touched both shoulders and his heart.
“Bless this endeavor, Sophia,” he said quietly. “Grant success to my mission. Sophia’s tears.”
He stood, gazed up at the goddess for a moment, then turned. When he entered, the Sanctum had been empty. Now two people approached, one a woman of indeterminate age, the other a young girl. The girl gazed up at him with wide, sky-blue eyes, her porcelain features clouded and unhappy. As the girl approached, the woman stopped a few feet short, her eyes on Adam. She appeared serene and untroubled. Adam knelt again as his daughter stepped up to him.
“Daddy, I don’t want to go!”
Adam took her shoulders and kissed her on the forehead. His heart swelled as he took in her innocent beauty: the snow-blond hair, the blue eyes, the full lips, the tears glittering in her eyes.
“It’s done, Onja,” he said huskily. “I already reported you missing. You have to go now, or everything will be lost.”
“Daddy, please! I don’t want to leave you! You are all I have left!”
“Onja—”
“Daddy, I have to stay! I made a vow!”
“What kind of vow?”
“A vow to Sophia. I vowed to find Mother and Sonja and set them free!”
“Honey, you shouldn’t have done that.”
“But I did! And now I have to follow through. If you send me away, I won’t be able to keep the vow!”
Adam looked up at the priestess, but she said nothing, though her lips moved silently as if chanting a prayer. He hugged the girl briefly and kissed her again.
“Onja, listen to me. I love you more than you will ever know, but you absolutely must be on that ship tonight. It may be the last chance to get you off the planet. The money is already paid; the SE is already notified. If you’re discovered… Onja, if they find out I lied to them I’ll be executed! Do you know what that means?”
Tears spilled down her cheeks and she nodded.
“Why did you do that, Daddy? Why do you want me to go? You didn’t have to do that! I want to stay with you!”
Adam’s heart fractured a piece at a time as he heard the pain in her voice. For just a second he almost told her the real reason, but stopped himself just in time. She was too young for that, too young to understand. He’d promised himself at her birth that she would never know, and he wouldn’t go back on that promise now.
Another excerpt:
Onja crawled out of her gun turret and let the ship handler help her to the deck. She was tired but exhilarated; her blood was still pounding, as if she needed more action. It had felt good to, finally, strike back at the enemy. Surely this was what she was born to do, and she already longed for another shot at the bastards.
As the fighter crews passed through the airlock, they were unprepared for what awaited them. The observation deck above the entrance was crowded with cheering people; pilots, gunners, off-duty base personnel; in total, more than two hundred people were packed in, cheering afresh each time the airlock opened. Onja tugged off her helmet and stared up at them, her blue eyes incredulous. But the ovation was infectious, and within moments she was smiling and waving along with the rest of the crews.
Ten minutes later, in the ready room, the debriefing took place. Onja sat silently next to Landon as Lt. Cannersby, the S-2 (intelligence officer), compiled the score. Not everyone knew for sure how many Sirians they’d hit; toward the end of the engagement, torpedoes and lasers had been running wild. The most Cannersby could account for was seven, but several gunners were making duplicate claims on those kills.
“This doesn’t add up,” Cannersby said after a moment. “How many Sirians were there?”
“Eighteen,” Landon told him.
“And they were all destroyed?”
“Every one.”
“I’m only getting seven, and if I accept all these claims, the most I can account for is ten. What about the rest?”
The room sat silent as every eye focused on Landon. He hesitated a moment, then coughed modestly into his fist.
“Some of those have to be shared kills,” he said finally. “When we made contact, my gunner was the first to open fire. Lieutenant Ka-vorik had eleven kills.”
Onja’s eyes sprang wide as she gazed at Landon. She hadn’t bothered to count them. She looked back at Cannersby to see him staring at her in disbelief.
“From all the reports we’ve monitored,” he said quietly, “nobody in the Fighter Service has accumulated eleven kills since the war started. Nobody.”
Landon shrugged. “Today, someone did.”
Happy Halloween! I’ll be back soon with more book offers.
Until then.
Born Novelist 
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