Monday, March 25, 2019

CeeRee Fields Presents D'Reapers Destiny


What would you sacrifice to meet the man of your dreams?

Zroya lives a sheltered life within the Southern Installation. Protected from the 'contamination' that brought humanity to the brink of extinction, she's terrified to leave the safety of the known for the unknown. Even though women are treated like cattle within the Installation, it's still familiar. However, it's now Zroya's time to become a breeder, she balks and is imprisoned.

Slaughter D'Reaper has been free from Installation control for sixteen years and thanks the Creator every day for that privilege. Now, he and his brothers are hunting for Zroya, to give her that same choice. How does he know about Zroya? From dreams that have been sent to him since he was fourteen. His obsession knows no bounds as he tears apart the country of Amelorica searching for the woman he's come to love.

But is it true love? Or only a dream?

This story is a cross between sleeping beauty mixed with Dr. Jekyll and Miss Hyde.

Zroya breathed deeply, his spicy fragrance curling around her. "The others we're supposed to meet. The ones they were trading me for." Shaking, she wrapped her arms around her stomach and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering. The memories of her prison cell with the chains on the bed and the glass coffin she'd been transported in bombarded her, but she refused to allow them to win. Instead, she flamed the burning embers of her rage to life.
"Three of them are just girls." Anger coursed through her at how young the group was.
She'd never thought the men in that place were this twisted. She kept underestimating their brutality, what she didn't understand was how she could know the ages. It was as if that scaving beast that shared her skin knew something she didn't and it pissed her off.
Turning from him, she was forced to a stop when he snagged her wrist in a gentle, but immovable grip. Surprised that her skin didn't try to crawl from her body at being captured again, Zroya almost missed what he said. "We'll go together like we planned. I want to call Kaos and the others in."
"I'm not stupid, I just want to make sure they're okay." She sniffed at his command, amazed that she allowed him to shackle her.
"Good. Let's go." He rolled to his feet and held his hand out to her.
She eyed the hand as if it were her greatest enemy. The 'D' tattoo that wrapped around his wrist seemed to scream at her. When had he taken off his leather braces? Gathering, her resolve Zroya wove their fingers together. Then she felt energy pour from him. "What're you doing?"
"Letting my brothers know what's going on. They thought they heard something to the east, so it'll take them a few minutes to catch up."
"Thanks." She whispered as she awkwardly dusted the dirt off her pants with one hand.
"For what?"
"Not doubting me."
"Zroya, there may have been a lot of minutia between you leaving the Installation and here, but you have always been honest with me." He cradled her face with his free hand. "Even when I could tell it was hard for you. Doubting you or your abilities just isn't in me."
Her heart melted at hearing how much faith he had in her. A quick brush of his lips caused them to tingle and distracted her to the point she was jerked from her musings as he dragged her from the camp.
"Wrong way." Pointing not straight west, but more southwest, they jogged into the woods.
Smiling at how far she'd come, her eyes darted to their hands. Trust. A word so easily tossed around, but when shattered something so hard to get back. However, she trusted him. Knew he wouldn't use the tentative hold to chain her to him and hurt her. Did her stomach still jump with nerves? Yes, but in this moment she took back some of what she'd lost to those assholes that thought they could imprison her.
Confidence flowed into her the closer they came to the Westerners, she'd been trained from birth as a fighter. Even if her father had done it to test her, manipulate her as he tried to tease out the beast within her. He'd still done it and her opponents hadn't gone easy on her. As though they had something to prove to her father. This was her element. And even if the group wasn't Contaminated, they were her enemies as surely as her father and his cohorts were.
They traveled for what seemed like forever. No idea where Draper's brothers were, but knowing they couldn't be too far behind, she focused on not tripping as the forest became dense with roots and scrubby bushes.
Draper tightened his fingers and pulled her to a halt. Before she could shout at him, she heard it. The snapping of flames and when the breeze shifted the burning scent of wood wrapped around her. Crap! She'd almost dragged them into the middle of the damned camp.
Skirting the edges, they found a spot to spy from. Rage roiled through Zroya, the golden locks draped over her arm flickered from burgundy to gold. Tension knotted her muscles and her hands locked onto the stocks of her crossbows. She would kill them.
A cage crouched in the center of the camp. A mass of grimy, thin limbs huddled in one corner. From what Zroya could make out, the kids wore little more than rags and no blankets were in their prison.
Numerous soldiers lay around the camp, snores and quiet conversation pierced the night. Two men meandered into the firelight. The scrolling 'D' tattoos marked them as the Shepherds of the group. A startled gasp passed her lips when the one on the left turned into the firelight and green, leathery skin similar to a snake shimmered in the dancing flames.
The sound should have been masked with so much other noise within the camp. However, the Shepherd turned his head in their direction odd black eyes narrowed almost as if it, or he, could see them.
Turning to Draper, her eyes landed on his scythes gripped in a white knuckled grasp. She motioned for them to leave with her head and he nodded. In tandem, they both began to ease away from the camp, but it was too late. The deformities that guarded the children sensed them.
Hissing under her breath, Zroya asked. "Where the scaving hell are your brothers?"
Releasing her crossbows, Zroya leveled them at the monsters her father had signed her over to. Did he know? Nothing like these things were in any of his grids. Maybe they were specialized for trades? It didn't matter, in order to save those children, herself and Draper, the malformed beasts needed to die.
"I'll hold them off." The quiet snick of Draper separating his scythes, carried through the night. "You need to run as fast as you can. My brothers aren't far."
"Vack that shit!" she said through gritted teeth, her gaze never dropped as she loaded her bows from memory.
"Dammit!" Draper exclaimed.
Eyes darting up, she froze. Half the camp was almost on top of them. Standing, she began systematically shooting, but her crossbows only held a total of ten shots each. In the dark, her hands shaking, she missed half of her targets, but the ones she hit went down from the poison her bolts were tipped with.
Terror at being captured and held prisoner by these things engulfed her. "No!" She screamed even as the monster inside her roared to the forefront. And Zroya was lost in the maelstrom of rage, horror and revulsion as the beast within came out to destroy every threat.

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Author Bio:

CeeRee Fields currently lives in Groningen, the Netherlands with her husband and cat. Since she was born in Alabama and moved to the Netherlands, Dutch is not her first language which gets her into mischief in various stores around town when she tries to speak it.

She loves writing, building worlds that her characters can explore and break if they feel the need. Action, adventure and love are her favorite things. And when stuff gets blown up who says the guy is the only one who gets to do it?

She can be found at:

Monday, March 4, 2019

LUCK BE AN ANGEL by Liza O'Connor

Luck be an Angel 
by Liza O'Connor

For a while in college, I wanted to be a journalist. However, when I moved to the University of Minnesota, the dean of journalism convinced me that I did NOT want to be a journalist. Not sure what his motive was to convince me to do something else, but I am very glad he did. Journalism has taken a hard hit in the ‘free news’ era. I was much better off on Wall Street to begin my career. However, my character Ethan cannot imagine doing anything other than reporting the news!

Reporter, Ethan Long, is sent into the backwoods of Arkansas to investigate a woman who claims her sixteen boys were born by Immaculate Conception. Not believing in divine intervention, Ethan plans to uncover the identity of the man who continues to impregnate Sara Smith every year, leaving her to raise her sons on nothing but luck and love. He enters their home as a tutor and eventually discovers the truth, but not before he has fallen in love with Sara and her wonderful boys. Now he must face his own crossroad in life and decide whether to follow his heart or his professional obligations.

Ethan frowned. “You don’t have broadband access?” How the hell was he going to communicate with the outside world? He had intended to piggyback off their router. He shook his head. Sara had no viable means of support. Why would she have Internet?
Joshua laughed. “No, and before you ask, we ain’t got cable or satellite either, but we do have a TV, and channel seven and two come in real good.”
Colby, evidently concerned they were about to lose their schoolteacher spoke up. “Yeah, but who needs that stuff. What you will have are the best students you’ve ever taught.”
Ethan smiled and patted Colby on his back. “I’ve no doubt of that.”
True enough, given he’d never taught a student in his life. He’d spent a day acquiring fake teaching certificates and credentials, along with the home-schooling curriculum. Now he wondered why he bothered. Sara hadn’t asked to see any of it.
“You boys should get back to your chores and finish up. I’ll want you all in the kitchen in one hour, so we can figure out what each of you know.”
With terror in their eyes, they both hurried from the room.
As he unpacked his clothes and put them into the clean, paper-lined drawers of the old bureau, his thoughts returned to Sara. She looked so young, but she had to be at least thirty. First child born at fourteen, with one more for sixteen years. She was either thirty or thirty-one.
She wore no makeup, so he didn’t know if she was plain or just untouched. When she laughed, he had thought her pretty. But she’d hardly inspire men to wander from their wives. Nor did she sound like she’d welcome it.

Jacobs was right. There was a story here. Sara Smith was not what she appeared. He looked forward to discovering the truth.

Luck be an Angel

Liza O’Connor lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels.