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Saturday, March 22, 2014

A Scene From Judgment on Tartarus

So here's a bit of Chapter 6: "A Fist to the Jaw"---literally!

   Rona Scott's next encounter with the infuriating Tartarian proved even more puzzling than the last.

   After her daily workout, she left the rec-deck and went down to her quarters to change for fourth-watch Bridge duty. She doffed her sweat-soaked exercise outfit, showered, and dressed in a fresh blue jumpsuit.

   Bound for the Bridge, Rona started down the length of Deck Five's Alpha Corridor, headed for the forward lift-complex. Ahead, she heard angry voices. The words were indistinguishable, but she recognized the Tartarian's voice--deep, precise, and obviously furious. A barked laugh answered him.

   Rona came within clear sight of the lift-complex just in time to witness a scene she never would've believed possible.

   Standing in the middle of Beta Corridor, port, Malkis faced a belligerant Lieutenant Klasner. Rona instantly recognized the big man from the recent Commissary incident. Upon seeing Rona Scott approaching, without  warning the Exec drew back his right arm and drove a knotted fist straight into Klasner's jaw. His fist connected with an audible crack, slamming the burly crewman against the bulkhead behind him. Klasner slid to the deck, unconscious.

   Malkis calmly flexed his pale, blue-veined hand, pivoted on his heel, and approached Rona, who stood rooted to the spot in horror. His pale-gray eyes impaled her with such frightening intensity that she let out a gasp.

   "Ensign Scott, did you overhear any of that conversation?" he demanded in an urgent tone.

   Rona shook her head before finding her voice and replying weakly, "No--no, Sir--not at all!"

   "You are quite certain?"

   "Yes, Sir--I'm certain. Not a single word."

@copyright 2011

A mystifying incident, a serious breach of regs, with an intriguing explanation! For more, go to and see the  "Look Inside" feature.I think you'll enjoy reading more; at least I hope you do.

Keep on writing, and keep on reading!


Thursday, March 13, 2014

Another Little Peek at Galaxy Rand

Here's a bit of a scene from my space opera Galaxy Rand. I have a soft spot for Galaxy, even though she's "one tough fem":

   I raised my glass in a polite salute to my snitch, then leaned across the table toward her and muttered, "J'neen, some bastard's trying his damnedest to kill me!"
  Her delicate, dark eyebrows made sharp arches. "Again?"
   I scowled at the unwelcome reminder. "This time it's different!"
   "Really? How 'different'?"
   "This's nothing to do with any two-bit beef. Whoever the fleggin bastard is, he really has it out for me--two tries within a planet-hour! What's worse, I've got no idea in the Cosmos who the hell's behind these damn attacks."
   "That does present you with a bit of a problem, Galaxy."
   I got impatient and prodded, "Dammit, J'neen! Have you heard anything?"
   She gave one quick shake of her dark head. "Not so much as a whisper. Sorry I can't help you, Galaxy."
  "That's bad news, real bad news. Means whoever the hell's after me can afford to make damned-sure mouths stay shut. So that lets out the usual riff-raff I deal with."
   J'neen's bright eyes widened. "How in hell did you manage to make an enemy that powerful? And who in blazes copuld it be?"

@copyright 2014

That's all for now. More to come later. Or if you can't wait, go to and check out their "Look Inside" feature. I promise you a fun, easy read and a couple chuckles.
Thanks for reading!


Sunday, March 2, 2014

A Sneak Peek...

Here's a scene from my latest novel, Galaxy Rand, which is a space opera and my homage to pulp fiction:

   I was sunk so damned deep in those grim thoughts that I let my guard down for a fraction of a microsecond. As I stepped into the one-man lift, someone else slid in right behind me. The door closed.

   I whirled to face my unexpected and unwelcome company. From force of habit, my right hand reached for my blaster. My holster was empty. I let out a colorful cussword, flattened my back against the lift's far wall, and got ready to kick the bloody bastard's lights out. But a one-man lift's damned close quarters for hand to hand combat!

   My whole body tense, I waited for my new "friend" to make the first move. The guy just stood there, grinning like an idiot. "Hello, Rand. Heard a lot about you. Now we finally get to meet, face to face."

   "Who the bloody hell are you?" I demanded, giving him my worst glare, still on guard and prepared to fight for my life if need be.

   He raised both hands to show me they were empty. Moving with care, so I wouldn't misinterpret his actions, his right hand went to the breast pocket of his shirt. He gave it a sharp tap with his index finger. Where the pocket'd been, a holo-badge appeared.

   I groaned in disgust. "ISF! Are you fleggin kidding me?"

   Should've known! Who but a dumb-ass ISF 'gent would be stupid enough to follow somebody like me into a one-man lift? Nobody, unless they were bloody crazy!

@copyright 2014

   Hope you enjoyed this little tidbit. Keep on reading and keep on writing!