About Allies and Enemies: Book One
Sela Tyron, a simple soldier, born to serve the Regime with unwavering loyalty, finds her world upended when her worshiped captain and member of the elite, Jonvenlish Veradis, is arrested for treason. Her impulsive decision sees them both hunted by their former allies. Things go from bad to worse with the seemingly miraculous return of Veradis’s sister, Erelah, from the dead and the arrival of a new and dangerous enemy in ruthless pursuit of the dark secret she holds.
The Allies and Enemies Trilogy represents about 15 years of dedicated indecision and lack of self-confidence. Science fiction was my first love with all its glory of plastic weapons, poorly constructed sets and formulaic magic plot “reset” buttons. Where TV and movies could only supply me with an occasional fix of geekdom, I started to mainline books and Marvel comics. These inspired me to write my own stories that no one was allowed to read. Like ever. Until now.
This story started with the character of Sela Tyron (a name I love and the heroine I wish I could be, BTW) as the driving force. I wanted to tell her story and, without her realizing it, have her fall in love. Allies and Enemies introduces you, gentle reader, to a world that’s been kicking around in my head for more than a decade. It is only through the magical graces of eBook self-publishing, that will be able to experience this story (and hopefully the ones to follow).
The story is finished the primary stages of writing. And I am now attempting to secure the services of a reputable professional editor that can help put the finishing touches to it. This requires a considerable amount of money.
An Excerpt from Allies and Enemies Book One:
“Here. In here, Sir!”
I followed the voice of my corporal. Strength waning, I half-carried Atilio, our injured meditech up the brief set of stairs leading into an oddly shaped room.
Around me, the seven remaining members of my team called out as they cleared the structures beyond this one. So far, no hostiles.
Sweat fell stinging into my eyes and trickled between my shoulder blades under my field armor. The heat was palpable, collecting in the stagnant air. These were details lost. There was only the chaos of staying alive and keeping my team that way too.
I tightened my grip around Atilio’s waist. He had lost a lot of blood. Too much. His arm strung about my shoulders had become a limp weight. His head rolled forward. My heart clenched into a fist.
I cannot lose him.
“Valen!” I bellowed for my corporal. I spotted a long waist-high table near the room’s center. It looked sturdy enough. Wordlessly Valen appeared. Clay pots crunched beneath our heavy boots as we maneuvered Atilio’s body up onto the table. I snapped open the hidden fasteners to his field armor and suppressed a gasp.
Some good the armor had done him, I thought bitterly.
“Stay with me. Stay with me, Atilio.” My plea was a frantic hush. “What was the first damned thing I told you, sub-officer?”
“Try… try not to get killed.” Atilio wheezed. His attempt at a chuckle turned into another wet bout of coughing. His hand sticky with blood weakly clasped mine. He was fading. His eyes slid shut a second time. He was so cold, despite the nearly killing heat of this hellish place.
“Stay awake, sub-officer. That’s an order.” I bellowed down at him.
Not him. Not him. Not like this. A stupid mistake, a lucky shot with an improvised explosive.
“What is this place, boss?” Valen asked, under his breath.
I’d forgotten he was still there. Planting my hands against the table, I finally looked around. The room was built in a circle. Sconces lit the chamber in intervals. It did nothing to dispel the shadows of the high domed ceiling. Small low benches, curved like the room, faced the middle in concentric circles. The floor was dotted with threadbare cushions. The cloying woodsy smell of sabet incense permeated everything. On the wall closest to us a crude pictograph of three female figures dominated the room. Natus. Metauri. Nyxa. The mother, the maiden and the crone. A ribbon of colored paint flowed over and around the trio. It was the type of room that commanded reverence like the Information Officer’s berth back on the Storm King.
“A temple to the Fates.” I purposefully spoke at a normal tone. This was all rubbish. It was only a room.
Valen blinked. “Never seen such. Is that why they’re not coming in here, because it’s their shrine?”
He panned a torch over the image of the three women. In the cast off light he looked just as I felt, shredded and raw.
“I don’t know. We’re alive. That’s what I know. Read.” I spat.
“Read.” He still sounded spooked.
“It’s just a room, Valen.”
I turned my attention back to Atilio, trying to dismiss the hairs standing on end on the back of my neck. Considering its use, it would not have been my first choice for a shelter, but the temple was a fortified building, easily defendable with only one point of access barred with a banded iron door. Good vantage of the lower streets from behind a walled courtyard. Despite all that, it felt wrong to be there. Defining the reasons slipped my scrutiny at the moment. I had more pressing issues.
The nine other members of my team had dispersed throughout other areas of the structure. The heavy perfumed air was punctuated with their shouts. So far, it was all clear....
Risks and challenges
Although the manuscript is completed in my perspective, the delivery of the final product is dependent upon the changes indicated by the editor and the completion of formatting for ebook distribution (an estimated 5-7 days). Initial estimates I have received from editors about revision can be anywhere from 2 to 4 weeks to receive their changes. The time I take to create these changes will be dependent upon the amount and complexity of the edits suggested.Learn about accountability on Kickstarter
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