It is with great pleasure that I announce the winner of my giveaway: Ms. Rasheedah Phillips! Rasheedah you are the winner of a free copy of my SF/fantasy novels: Immortal, Immortal II: The Time of Legend and Immortal III: Stealer of Souls!! I’ll be contacting you for your shipping address 🙂
I would like to thank you all for your comments, adds, follows, retweets and mentions on my blog, facebook and twitter. And remember, we will have another big giveaway for our last blog on February 27th and the rules are still the same. Check my first post on The State of Black SF and I’ll also repost later this week.
I’m the author of Immortal, Immortal II: The Time of Legend and Immortal III: Stealer of Souls. I’ve also written 3 short works: Probe, Grandmere’s Secret and The Switch (steampunk themed). I will release the sequels Immortal IV: Collision of Worlds and The Switch II: Clockwork this Spring.
So without further ado here’s an excerpt from Immortal III: Stealer of Souls available at my blog http://wwwsistermoon.blogspot.com
Barnes and Noble
and Amazon:Annabelle wanted to touch him. So used to taking whatever she wanted, she was moved when *** shyly pulled her closer… He molded his body to hers, his breathing echoing her own: ragged and harsh.
“Let’s go outside,” he whispered. The Indigo woman let him lead her one block away into an alleyway. She threw her arms about his neck…and their tongues danced… (censored)
Annabelle lifted one leg to curl around him…she was giving of herself with no quarter — tossing care to the wind. What spell had this human cast over her with his soft eyes and whispers, his compassion and longing?
With a moan she let him carry her forward into a river of desire… (censored)
From the corner of her eye she saw them.
Three men blocked the alleyway. The leader standing at the forefront was Indigo; another to his right and behind him Fuchsia; and the man to his left Amber. They were dressed in planet uniforms. But their tunics were unbuttoned and the interlocking green tattoos on their chests and bellies marked them as Scorpion gang members.
Now Annabelle remembered that Topaz gangs roamed the streets after dark preying on those unfortunate — or foolish — enough to be out.
*** saw them and pulled away from her, hastily zipping up his pants. The Indigo man smiled unpleasantly: “My turn next, right brother?” His friends laughed.
She pulled her skirt down, her eyes darting from one to the other. None of them was holding a weapon. Confident that they outnumbered their prey, they hadn’t bothered to draw them. But she spied the knives and firearms holstered in their waistbands.
Annabelle waited for the inevitable.
*** stepped in front of her, hands held out in a gesture of surrender. “We don’t have any money, man!”
“Oh I can’t see that,” the leader rumbled. “Good thing we don’t want any, right?” The thugs laughed again. “You standing in front of what we want. Now if you’ll just move outta the way, we’ll help ourselves.”
“Come on man — !” *** pleaded.
“I said move!”
*** didn’t bulge, though he was shaking. For the second time that day, she was shocked. He was ready to give up his life…for her?
“Please, just let us go home –”
The leader pulled the blade from pants, pressed its button and a six inch knife popped out. “You don’t do hear so good — do you?” He advanced on them.
Like lightening she blurred around ***, grabbed him by his shoulders and breathed green midst into his mouth.
“What the f— ?!”
Even before *** eyes glazed over in hypnosis she turned to face the Indigo thug, her tunic whipping around in speed. The dark woman grabbed his throat, lifted him and threw him across the street… While his friends looked on in stunned amazement.
As he slammed into the lamp post there, she leaped –airborne — and touched down to meet him swinging her foot in a roundhouse arc against his temple. His head whipped to the right and she heard a satisfying snap, as his neck broke.
Behind Annabelle his friends had regained their senses and, exchanging incredulous glances, pulled their tasers and leveled them at her back. Topaz could be a strange place, especially at night. After all, this was the Time of Legend. Best not to dwell on it.
Annabelle jumped into the air — taser fire shattered the windows behind the lamp post where she’d stood only a moment ago — and landed in front of them. Laughing, she snatched the weapons from their grasp, and dropped them to the concrete.
The nosferatu shoved the Fuchsia man into the building on her right, knocking the wind out of him. His Amber crony screamed in terror and fled.
Annabelle jerked the Fuchsia’s thug head to the side violently and drank….
Copyright 2008 Valjeanne Jeffers all rights reserved
And here’s an excerpt from Immortal IV: Collision of Worlds (to be released in 2012)**** moved through patchy woods. The Topaz breezes had begun to blow, and he was cold and hungry. He thought longingly of his comfortable little hideaway, that he’d spent so much time putting together.
I had jars of food. . . blankets . . . Stop thinking about it! There’s no way I can go back—not now.
He didn’t know how far he’d traveled, but he figured he was in the Southern edge of Downtown.
He’d traveled roughly five miles from where he’d killed ***
He wanted to travel deeper into forest, to move further from the scene of the crime. But **** didn’t trust his sense of direction; not enough to try to find his way through dense woods.
And he was so hungry.
I could wind up lost, wandering around in circles and still come out at the same end. I’ll find someone’s garbage can, and dig through it.
Inching closer, he peered through the trees. He was facing the backstreets of a neighborhood; a poor one from the looks of it, the houses ramshackle with peeling paint. He could see wooden trash-bins beside the houses. Ahead the street dipped into a steep hill.
With any luck I can at least find a half-eaten sandwich. The possibility made his mouth water.
**** crept out of the trees, and walked over to the bin. The streets were deserted, which meant he’d at least timed his excursion right. It was after curfew.
He snatched the top of the bin, and pawed through the refuse. Damn!
There was nothing in the bin that he could even come close to making a meal out of. Looking around, he scurried to the next house, and opened the can.
A loud creak cut through the silence.
**** whipped his head to the right to see the bronze and flesh man ,wearing goggles and a helmet. His right arm ended in a contraption of bolts and gears. The android was straddling a robotic bird.
He leaped back, just as the trash-bin exploded. . .
“VIOLATION!” The rider screeched.
**** landed on his back—scrapping his elbows. He scuttled away, then flipped over making it to his feet just as the second explosion split the air—so close it singed his hair.
The rider took aim again. “VIOLATION! You will be eliminated!”
**** raced toward the woods.
As he reached the edge of forest a primal instinct told him to jump. Incredibly, for a moment he was airborne.
Fire exploded just under him. He fell hard through the trees. . . and came down on his ankle. He felt his bone pop and crawled forward, afraid to look back.
**** looked over his shoulder. Looking confused, the rider had stopped at edge of the trees. It looked confused.
He won’t fire. He’d set the whole forest ablaze.
“Violation!” The robot took a tentative step forward. “Intruder trapped in woods. . . request backup!”
**** struggled to his feet, tried to put weight on his ankle and bit his lip to keep from screaming in pain.
He couldn’t go into the city to search for food. He was cold. Hungry. And now he was injured. **** let out a sob of rage. . .
Another cold night. Another night of hunger. . . and fell to his knees.
He felt the change coming.
And welcomed it.
Hair crawled greedily along the length of his body. His nails blackened, lengthened and grew razor sharp. His eyes turned yellow, burning now with a savage intelligence.
His ankle snapped back into place.
The werewolf stood stretched back, spread his arms lifted his nose and howled — a feral cry of yearning.
The rider heard his alien cry. If he had any thoughts about going into the woods, the howl settled them.
It backed up, “Violation!” sounding even more unsure.
The werewolf growled low in his throat. He could easily catch the rider and kill him. No problem. He wanted to. But he was. . .
Hungry! If I kill him, others come. . . They’ll hurt me.
Now his hungry blotted out all thought. The werewolf moved deeper into the woods. With preternatural eyes, he spotted the rabbit racing in panic ahead. It had smelled him.
He leapt forward and landed in front of it — cutting it off — and ended the rabbit’s life with one snap of his jaws. He tore into the rabbit’s flesh, eating ravenously. No steak had ever tasted so good. . .
Copyright Valjeanne Jeffers 2011, 2012 all rights reserved
And here’s an excerpt from The Switch II: Clockwork (to be released in the Spring of 2012)
Z100 stood on the tube platform waiting for the next car. She was dressed in a one-piece, white jumpsuit and thigh-high boots: standard dress for the upper city. Pods only seated three to a car and were propelled by compressed air through tunnels that webbed across Tyrol. Access was granted through palm recognition scanners.
On her left, a Latino couple waited for the car. The man was dressed in a derby hat and striped pants with suspenders; the woman wore a bustier, and skirt with petticoats. Their musty smell reached her, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.
At least these cars are self-cleaning.
An egg-shaped pod slid to a stop in front of her. She pressed her palm against the scanner and then shot an icy glance at the couple.
They looked away. They knew better than to try to ride with her. Under dwellers were not permitted to socialize with city residents, and only ventured above ground to work. They would wait for the next car.
The hatch door lifted and she stepped inside, sitting on a cushion beside the three-inch window. The pod sped off, and Z100 gazed out the window: the rounded towers of York were a blur of beige and white. In the distance, she glimpsed the tripod mansion of the supreme leader.
The car reached her platform. Z100 stepped out of the transport tube and climbed into a waiting hover craft.
“Where to, ma’am?” a mechanical voice asked.
“Mulberry 5000.” The hover craft zoomed forward.
In minutes, Z100 had climbed out on her porch that stood miles above ground. She stood at the door of her oval-shaped condo, and placed her palm against the flat box beside the door. A laser strip slid down her palm.
There was a brief hum. “Welcome home,” her house announced.
The clear hatch lifted and she stepped inside. Z100 walked up the floating staircase to her bedroom, and undressed in front of her mirror, turning to the side so she could admire her implants.
Her honey-brown skin and thick, bobbed hair were natural. But her green eyes and full lips had cost a pretty credit – as had her 38 C breasts. Naked, Z100 twisted again to admire her waist and rounded hips, also natural, then slipped on the kimono lying across the bed.
Adjacent to the king-size bed, was a picture window with a stunning view. She walked over to it and stood for a moment looking out over the city’s multicolored lights.
“You look beautiful, Ms. Z100,” the house said in a baritone male voice, “as always. What would like for dinner?”
“Broiled fish with sea salt, green salad and white wine.”
Z100 walked down the stairs into her living room. Across from the futon and coffee table were three opaque closets. An android stood inside each one, clothed only in white trousers. . .
Copyright Valjeanne Jeffers 2011 all rights reserved
Published by Mocha Memoirs Press, 2011
Look for the The Switch II: Clockwork, coming this spring!