Saturday, November 25, 2017

C.S. Wilde shares From The Stars


For her, he'll go to war with the entire galaxy.
James Bauman's life turned upside down when he fell for Miriam, the most amazing woman he's ever met. If only she were human, things would be a lot easier.

Miriam cannot love, but this won't stop her from trying. She must be careful, though. Strong emotions are forbidden in the Whisar Empire. If the council discovers that she's trying to fall in love with an earthling, they'll pull her heart out. Literally.

James will do everything in his power to show Miriam what love is, but if he succeeds, the wrath of an ancient alien race might crash upon him... and doom Miriam forever. 

Note to readers: This sci-fi romance contains a lot of action and steamy romance. So if you like fast-paced adventures and toe-curling love stories, this is for you! Includes a preview of the Dimensions Series 2: Beyond the Stars. 
Praise for From the Stars:

★★★★★"When it comes to enjoyable science fiction romance, this is a prime example of how to make it work." Nicholas Conley
★★★★★"This book has compelling characters, a plot that keeps you turning the page, and a romance that will make you swoon and your heart ache." Amazon Reviewer
★★★★★ "Loved this book, can't wait for more!" Amazon Reviewer

Just one, but I plan on making it wide later on


C.S. Wilde wrote her first Fantasy novel when she was eight. That book was absolutely terrible, but her mother told her it was awesome, so she kept writing.
Now a grown-up (though many will beg to differ), C. S. Wilde writes about fantastic worlds, love stories larger than life and epic battles.

She also, quite obviously, sucks at writing an author bio. She finds it awkward that she must write this in the third person, and hopes you won't notice.

I wake with a gasp. I’m strapped onto a chair, the metallic surface so cold it stings against my arms and legs. Metal cuffs strap down my wrists and ankles, and rattling clangs in my ears as I try to break free.
A beacon of light shines from above, blinding me, and for a moment I wonder if I’m at a dentist appointment from hell.
I look down at my white shirt and blue boxers, the clothes I wore to bed. I could swear just a moment ago I was sleeping peacefully under my comfortable sheets. Now the hairs on my arms stand on edge and adrenaline rushes through my veins.
This is a nightmare. It has to be.
There’s something sticky on my forehead. Several sticky things, like tentacles sucking on my skin. They venture across my hair too, pulling strings as I assess what’s visible of the dark room. Not much, considering the light blinding me above.
Am I having some sort of brain exam?
 “Hello?” I shout to the empty room, my eyes narrowing under the light. “Is there anyone here?”
“The male is fearful.” The deep and hollow tone rings in my mind, not my ears. Like a lost memory or a thought.
Who said that?
Blood stills in my veins as I hope, pray, that this is a nightmare.
Someone shoves the light away, and then I’m staring up at Miriam, the most incredibly gorgeous woman ever created.
She gives me her dazzling smile, the one that puts any supermodel to shame.
Her sleek brown hair hangs in a low ponytail, and brown freckles lightly pepper her nose and cheeks.
“Hi, James.” Her tone is calm, soothing. It makes my heart slow, which is a first. Every time I see Miriam Haworth back at the office, my heart races so hard, it might be trying to achieve the speed of sound. “I know this is odd,” she continues, her green eyes shining with something between curiosity and excitement, “but you’re safe, I promise. This is just a dream.”
My mind’s fuzzy, blurred, so this could definitely be a dream. It doesn’t feel like one, though. If anything, this is a nightmare. Except for Miriam, of course. If all my nightmares feature my crush smiling down at me, then I’ll gladly take them.
I still remember the day I was called to set up her computer, six months ago, when she joined Weltman & Co.
Miriam was waiting for me when the elevator door opened. She wore a black skirt and suit jacket, and beneath it she had a white T-shirt that featured Spock saying, “I’m a Vulcan, not a Vulcan’t.”
It’s hard to explain how awesome that was to me.
She shook my sweaty palm, her skin soft and perfect. “Call me Mir,” she said with a dazzling smile. “Like the space station.”
I was used to the inevitable jittering stomach and cold sweat caused by the sighting of a pretty girl, but this? This was different. Miriam was the epitome of amazing, at least to me.
I can’t say why she captivates me so much. It’s something that just is, like boson particles or my dad’s talent for baking apple strudels.
“Mir, what are we doing here?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at the pitch-black corner of the room where a dark figure stands almost imperceptible against the darkness. “I get that dreams don’t make sense, but this is insane.”
She frowns. “Have you ever had a logical dream?”
Hmm, she does have a point.
A beep rings from somewhere, and then the rough, hollow voice says, “His state of infatuation for you is confirmed. Congratulations, Miri’et-eh, you have succeeded in acquiring a test subject.”
She looks to the dark corner and bows her head slightly. “Thank you.”
“I still can’t understand why these filthy creatures fascinate you researchers so,” the voice continues, disgust in his tone. “They’re pathetic.”
Before I can give him a snarky reply, Miriam glares metaphorical ice daggers at the dark spot. Loose strands of hair free from her ponytail and frame her face. “You’re not supposed to understand. You’re a security officer.” This as if ‘security officer’ actually meant ‘disgusting bug’.
The darkness shrugs, and it’s extremely odd, feeling a shrug in my head. “It makes no difference.”
This situation is turning beyond uncomfortable. I wriggle against the restraints that strap me to the chair. “Hmm, can I just…” I shake my arms, the rattle of chains clanging at my sides.
“Not a chance in all the—”
Miriam clicks something on the chair, and the cuffs drop on the ground. We smile at each other as I rub my free wrists. I’m about to thank her when I feel a presence beside me accompanied by loud breathing akin to Darth Vader’s.
I look up to a figure at least six feet tall, probably higher. He has a black helmet shaped like a squared heart, and his entire body is wrapped in a black bodysuit that mingles with the darkness of the room.
He lifts his hand and I’m shoved toward the ceiling, a scream ripping through my throat. A nightmare, it has to be a nightmare.
My last breath catches midway in my lungs as the hard surface approaches. I brace for impact before I hit it like a plane crashing against a mountain. My life should be passing before my eyes any moment now.
Only it doesn’t. Also, my bones are all in place.
I open one eye to see I’m hanging in midair. Floating. “What the fuck!”
“He’s a threat.” The figure’s voice booms in my mind. “He must be eliminated!”
Below, Miriam faces off with the mysterious creature who’s at least three times her size, my empty chair the only thing between them. Some wires similar to those of EEG machines dangle from where my head was, so I was definitely having something akin to a brain exam.
My breaths ring in my ears, chest heaving up and down. This dream is all sorts of fucked up.
“He’s far from a threat! He simply wished to be released,” she says. “James Bauman is my test subject. You cannot hurt him.”
“You shouldn’t have—”
Miriam raises and lowers her arm, and the dark figure slams brutally against the ground, some invisible force smashing against him.
“Threaten my test subject again, and I will report you,” she says. “Do you understand?”
He growls something akin to a bark, but Miriam ignores him.
She looks up at me and twists her fingers. Slowly, softly, I land back on the chair.
 I swallow dry, my throat feeling like it’s made of concrete. “Mir, what’s going on?”
The black figure stands up wearily and crosses his arms. I wait for an attack, but he doesn’t move toward me. Instead, he keeps a safe distance.
Shock catches up and my limbs begin shaking. “Who or what the fuck is this thing?”
“A dream, James,” she says, her hair slightly disheveled. “It’s all a dream.”
“But he was going to kill me.”
“No.” She cups my right cheek and my vision becomes blurry, my mind dizzy. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”
I blink at her, my eyelids heavy. Already, my nerves begin cooling as a sense of safety takes over me. “You know, the guy’s supposed to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Protect the damsel in distress.” The words come out drowsy, drawled.
She smiles. “You should sleep.”
I try to fight the invisible power that presses over my thoughts, forcing sleep on me. “Mir, I… why am I your test subject?”
She opens her perfect, kissable lips to reply, but before she does, I drift into unconsciousness.

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