Each month, I feature several Deals and Steals on science fiction and fantasy books by other indie authors. These are limited-time offers that go into effect around the 15th of the month. They may last for only a day or two, so snag your copies while you can!
Deals and Steals for October 2018
A Sprig of Holly
“Pappy, can you hear me?” Greta clutched her aching head, dizzy, and staggered over to the still form of her Grandfather. “Pappy, please, talk to me.”
She heaved at the tree that had fallen on him, desperately trying to release him. It wouldn’t budge; the strain only made her head swim.
There was a rustling in the stillness. Greta fell silent, listening for the next sound. There might not be anyone else this side of the mountain, but that did not mean there were no animals around. It was a few years since they’d been troubled with wolves, but if they had come back, Pappy’s predicament wouldn’t be a problem for much longer.
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His hand was on me. Bare skin touching bare skin where my sweatshirt gaped open. Where was the panic? The instinctual recoil? Only Dad could touch me like this and not force feed me fragments. But Mr. Sniffer's hand didn't feel awkward. It felt heavy. Warm.
“Why did you do that?” I blurted.
He blinked at me. “You didn’t want to talk to that man.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes!” I jerked my arm away.
This guy was just so...coolly rumpled looking. Like Marlin’s lacrosse-playing boyfriends. Those dark-on-dark eyes pulling me in, making me feel guilty for being so abrupt.
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Deuces Wild: Beginners' Luck
“I wish we had a better ship.”
“Well, why did you take this piece of junk?”
“Because someone’s high moral stand against stealing left me few alternatives. Stealing from a dead man didn’t offend your sensibilities too much.”
The ship rocked and shuddered, flinging Slap sideways. He grabbed the sides of the chair.
“Hey, they’re shooting at us!”
“Remarkably perceptive.” Tristan peered at one of the read-outs.
Two ships slid past their bow. Slap gasped. “They’re cutting us off! We gotta get outta here!”
The ships now before them turned. A red light on the panel drew Slap’s attention. “Incoming! We have four behind, plus these two in front! Can’t we go faster?”
“You want to get out and push?”
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Hand of Miriam
She dared look. The golem sat in the crate. She suppressed a scream on seeing his rigid red-stone face. He looked like a misshapen man made of hard red rock. An aleph was added in front of met. The Hebrew word for truth, emet, now inscribed on his forehead, permitting it life. It slowly rose and stepped out. Tall, its square head almost touched the ceiling. It wasn’t too monstrous in stature, perhaps six-foot-seven, and within the range of human height. It blinked open gray eyes and stared at her. His eyes were the only part that looked remotely human and revealed his soul, by holding her gaze as if he knew her.
Bayla scooted back on her bottom but kept her eyes on him. There was a connection, a warm bond that eased her fear. She couldn’t read its thoughts. Was it because it had none?
The golem turned his head to the side and spoke in a deep baritone voice, “You are a woman.”
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