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Spotlight: Farryn's War

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    It's always nice when authors want to use your website to talk about their books and I was pleased when Christie Meierz decided to contact me about sharing an excerpt from her book. Christie Meierz is the author of Faerryn's War, a science-fiction novel about a man exiled from his home planet after trying (and failing) to spark them into a space race. It's a sci-fi romance which is not something you very often see--at least in my circles.

    A novel of love, betrayal, and an opening to the stars.

    The empathic Tolari of the Beta Hydri system shunned space travel for thousands of years, until one man, Farryn, the former ruler of Monralar, tried to shake his people from their isolation—tried and failed, losing his honor in the process. Now an exile, he puts his past behind him by building his own criminal empire among the colonies of Earth.

    Scholar, political analyst, and one of the most powerful empathic sensitives on Tolar, Farryn’s estranged lover Sharana dares to follow him into human space, desperate to find out what has become of him, hopeful of convincing him that she never betrayed him.

    Unfortunately, Earth Central Security is watching, and Sharana has no idea what she is getting herself into. 

    Here's an excerpt from her book which she's been kind enough to share. A warning, the contest is a LITTLE spicy:

Excerpt from Farryn’s War, Chapter 12
© 2015 Christie Meierz

    A shadow entered the narrow entrance hall. Adeline placed her coffee cup on its saucer as Comanche stepped onto the tiles delineating the café from the bookstore. He slid into the chair on the other side of her small table and lounged in it like a dark, sexy cat.

    “You’re late,” she said in English, before he could speak.
 
    His upper lip curled. “You were eating animal flesh.”
 
    “And you don’t get to make the rules here. Unless you enjoy feeling Sharana’s discomfort?” When he didn’t answer, she leaned forward, cradling her coffee cup between her palms. “So. High one. Was it really necessary to make us use chamber pots?”

    He flashed his teeth. “The universe is a wide place, and we Tolari are not fools.”

    “What you are is a rat bastard, and if you don’t want Sharana punished for it, you’ll tell me everything I want to know about your technology.”
 
    “Can you tell me how to design one of your floating vehicles?” he asked. “My education is that of a member of the ruling caste, political in focus. I can use our technology, but I have no detailed knowledge of its underlying principles. I suggest you capture an engineer.”
 
    “Sharana—”
 
    He interrupted her with a snort. “She is a scholar—a historian, a linguist, a political analyst. She can give you quite a thorough education on our political system, if you like, but she knows even less of our science than I.”

    “And how do I know you’re not lying to protect her?”

    “Major, you can be sure I will lie to protect her. This should be obvious, even to a human. A man does not bond his heart to a woman for whom he cares nothing.”
 
    She sneered. “Ah yes. Bonding. How exactly does that work?”
 
    He leaned forward across the small table, stopping with his face mere centimeters away, brown eyes fixed on hers. Shivers raced across her skin.
 
    “Would you like me to show you?” he asked in a husky whisper.
 
    She blew coffee-laced fish breath in his face. He didn’t flinch. Damn him! She set her jaw and glared, refusing to lean back first. He lifted a hand, slowly, and touched her face with his fingertips. Heat exploded through her body. She gasped, throwing herself against the back of her chair before she did something ill-advised, such as wrap herself around him like a snake. 

    “Bastard!” she panted, clamping her knees together.
 
    He sat back and leaned one cheek on his fist, pale brown eyes still locked on hers.
 
    Adeline barely managed to get the words out. “Your next assignment is on your tablet.” The chair nearly fell backward as she got to her feet. “Come to my office when it’s complete.”

    She marched to the counter on watery legs, thumbed the payment for her meal, and escaped out the back door, still struggling not to pant. She glanced toward the HQ building… and headed the other way. What the hell had Comanche done?
 
    Pulling out her tablet, she left notice that she’d be out for the rest of the afternoon, then turned at the next corner and crossed the street. A club, a very exclusive club, lay a few blocks up Second Main, where the edge of downtown met the entertainment district. That light touch of Comanche’s fingers had given her an urgent longing for skin on skin, and this establishment claimed to know how to take good care of a professional woman.

    They’d better.

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