Matronly Duties by Melissa Kendall

Today, we have the very talented Melissa Kendall and her remarkable novel, Matronly Duties.

Published by The Writers Coffee Shop

Genre:  FICTION / Romance / General / Science Fiction

EBook available from: Amazon and ITunes

 Matronly Duties

by

Melissa Kendall

~~SUMMARY~~

Hundreds of years after an asteroid slammed into Earth and sent it into a new ice age, what remains of the human race lives on in underground sanctuaries. Now, as the bicentennial anniversary of the impact approaches, a new leader prepares to take her place at the head of the government. At least, that’s what she thinks.

Bethanie Greene’s life has been planned out for her since the age of thirteen. Beautiful and intelligent, she’s spent the last twelve years training to become the next Matron of the underground nation of Oceania. But when Bethanie is kidnapped by rogue extremists just six weeks shy of taking office, her world is turned upside down by the handsome stranger who rescues her.

Howard James’ life has been the polar opposite of Bethanie’s. Struggling to survive in a world where those in power wished he didn’t exist, he harbors a deep-seated resentment of the government and all its representatives. Together with his unconventional family, he shows Bethanie a life she never knew was possible, while at the same time, opening her eyes to the injustices of the government she is meant to lead.

But can she trust a stranger? And can a few days change everything she believes and desires? Against all odds, Bethanie must decide if her heart and her duties can coexist.

~~EXCERPT~~

A yawn creeps up my throat and I suddenly feel like I haven’t slept in weeks. The temptation to curl up and go to sleep is strong, but my body is telling me I need a trip to the bathroom first.

I head down the hall to the door at the end. It’s ajar, so I push the door open—and freeze. The bathroom is not empty.

Howard stands at the sink, naked from the waist up, cleaning his teeth. Without clothing, his shoulders look twice as wide as before and every curve and dip in his muscles is clearly visible. Down the middle of his back is what looks like a big, black T. I have this crazy inclination to trace it to see how it feels.

Howard clears his throat and my gaze shoots up to find him watching me in the mirror. “Do you mind?”

He winks at me.

Oh crap!

“Sorry.” I pull the door shut. I’m mortified to have been caught staring. I also have butterflies in my stomach again, stronger than ever, and my heart is pounding. I fan my face with my hands in an attempt to calm myself down.

Before I can get everything under control, the door opens and a still-shirtless Howard walks out.

“All yours.”

“Uh-huh.”

I mentally slap myself for such an inept reply, but the view of him from the front is even better than the back. He has one of those washboard stomachs I’ve heard Gail talk about. I never understood what she meant, but now I can see how apt the description is. Once again, I find myself unable to stop staring.

“Good night, Bethanie,” Howard says strolling down the hallway.

“Howard? What’s the T on your back?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

He stops and half turns towards me. “It’s a tattoo, and it isn’t a T, it’s a crucifix.”

“A crucifix?”

“Yeah, it’s the cross Christ was nailed to. It is a symbol of the weight I bare in the name of justice.”

“Huh. I’m sorry, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. It’s nice, though.”

“Thanks,” he says, “but I better get to bed if I’m going to be up early to take you to the post office.”

“Night,” I call after him.

“Sweet dreams,” he calls back.

I smile. They might just be.

EBook available from: Amazon and ITunes

~~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~~

Melissa Kendall is an almost forty-year-old mother of two from Perth, Western Australia, the second-most isolated capital city in the world. Predominantly a stay-at-home mum, she works a few hours a week as a software support consultant. She has always loved to read and write, and spent most of her teens writing poetry and short stories. Over the years, daily life got in the way and she lost the passion for it, but after the birth of her first child, Melissa discovered e-books and her interest in writing rekindled. She is now the author of two published short stories. Matronly Duties is her first full-length novel.

~~CONNECT WITH THE AUTHOR~~

Twitter * Facebook * Goodreads * Website

S.E. Gilchrist shares the first books of two new series: Stranded and Don't Look Back

Today, while fishing the multiverses, I found a double-cluster of books! I love it when I can bring you more than one to feast upon.

These books are both by S.E. Gilchrist who is working on two new series and the first stories in both series are out now.

And even better, I didn't have to interrogate her. She willingly shared. 

Here is what S.E. Gilchrist had to say when I asked her to tell us about her books:

In January, the first book in my New Adult, Science Fiction series, The Mars Academy was published. Stranded is the story of a young, rookie shuttle pilot who when on a training flight has her ship damaged by a solar storm and crash lands on an unknown planet. Unfortunately, the mission of finding and claiming a new Earth has priority and she is left behind. 

Blurb: Indoctrinated since birth by revolutionary parents, Cleo has no time for close friendships and even less for boyfriends. Freshly graduated from the Mars Academy, she’s on her first intergalactic mission and desperate to meet her parents’ expectations. All is on course when a solar flare damages her shuttle and she crash-lands on a watery wasteland of a planet. 

Two generations ago, Kai's people fled their home-world after being invaded. They now live on super-ships that prowl beneath the planet's murky waters. When he ‘hears’ the cry of his destined mate, he discovers she is alone and stranded. And an alien. How can such a strange being be meant for him? 

Worse, if he helps her, he risks exposing their location to the enemy.

In February, the first book in my New Adult, apocalyptic series, Warders of Earth was published. Don’t Look Back is about a twenty year old girl who discovers her life is based on a lie and her family’s been on the run for years. The reason? - she’s been genetically modified before birth.

Blurb: Almost twenty, Tara has no direction in her life. She longs for a trendy lifestyle, far from the responsibilities of her crazy parents and their preoccupation with apocalyptic predictions. 
But what happens when it all comes true? 

The hottest guy she’s ever seen blows into town, claiming he’s here to protect her. The tattoo on his nape reads: Warder of Earth. 

Alien seeder meteorites rain down bringing chaos and destruction. 

The town is overtaken by gun-toting, zealous soldiers and a mysterious virus spreads with terrifying and deadly results. Someone close to her, is leaking information to the enemy. She no longer knows who to trust. 

Fighting for her family and the world’s survival, Tara must accept the secret of her past; she was genetically bred for a specific purpose. 

But every victory comes at great cost. 
And heroes are ordinary people who in a heartbeat, choose to make the ultimate sacrifice.

Space Rep: Oh wow! These both sound fabulous.
Can we buy them? Can we? Can we?

Liza: They do sound really good.
Go find the buy links, because I'm sure lots of readers will want to buy these.

Space Rep: Found them!

Buy links:

Stranded at Amazon, 

Don’t Look Back at Amazon.

Zoe Cannon presents The Torturer's Daughter

Today, I am pleased to host Zoe Cannon and her book The Torturer's Daughter.

Peep Rep: Are you really pleased? Or are you just saying that so her dad won't torture you?

Liza: Ha! Shows how much you know. The torturer is her mom. 

Peep Rep: Oh that's a nice twist. Tell me more. 

OMG!!!! Look at that gorgeous cover! 

It's a work of art!

When her best friend Heather calls in the middle of the night, Becca Dalcourt assumes it's the usual drama. Wrong. Heather's parents have been arrested as dissidents - and Becca's mother, the dystopian regime's most infamous torturer, has already executed them for their crimes against the state.

To stop Heather from getting herself killed trying to prove her parents' innocence, Becca hunts for proof of their guilt. She doesn't expect to find evidence that leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about the dissidents... and about her mother.

When she risks her life to save a dissident, she learns her mother isn't the only one with secrets - and the plot she uncovers will threaten the lives of the people she loves most. For Becca, it's no longer just a choice between risking execution and ignoring the regime's crimes; she has to decide whose life to save and whose to sacrifice.

It's easy to be a hero when you can save the world, but what about when all you can do is choose how you live in it? THE TORTURER'S DAUGHTER is a story about ordinary life amidst the realities of living under an oppressive regime... and the extraordinary courage it takes to do what's right in a world gone wrong.

Peep Rep: Oh that does sound good! Can we get this?

Liza: Great News on that front: 

TORTURER'S DAUGHTER IS ON SALE FOR

 99 CENTS ON DEC 27TH.

Buy Links:

Amazon I Barnes & Noble I Kobo I Smashwords

Peep Rep: 99 cents! Even you can afford that.

I found an excerpt. Don't talk while I'm reading.

Excerpt:

Becca’s steps slowed as she approached Processing 117. The floodlights of the parking lot shone down on her, exposing her. Past the lot, the darkness threatened to close in. There was no other source of light nearby except for the dim glow of the streetlamps, nothing but trees for at least a mile in every direction.

The concrete structure loomed taller than its five stories—maybe because of the invisible presence of the underground levels, or maybe because in a moment Becca was going to have to walk inside.

Heather can’t have been arrested. If she were a prisoner, they wouldn’t have let her call.

But when Becca remembered the panic in Heather’s voice, the thought wasn’t all that reassuring anymore.

Becca took the last few steps across the not-quite-empty parking lot. The windows of the upper floors glowed in a patchwork of lights, showing who was working another late night and who was at home sleeping… or down on the underground levels. 

Becca knew that in one of those dark offices, a phone had been ringing off the hook for the past half-hour, its owner oblivious to Becca’s pleas for her to answer, to find Heather for her, to fix this.

Becca reached the double doors of the entrance—and froze. Her heart thudded against her ribcage.

Heather is in there, she reminded herself. Heather needs me.

She pulled the doors open and stepped inside.

The doors slammed shut behind her, the noise echoing off the stark white walls. Security cameras stared down at her from the ceiling. The guards, one to either side of the metal detector, pinned her to the floor with their eyes, but said nothing.

Opposite the metal detector from Becca, the room was bare except for a huge metal desk with corners that looked sharp enough to cut. Behind the desk, a dark-haired woman with a headset clipped to her ear stopped mid-yawn and jerked up to face her.

Becca held her breath and stepped through the metal detector. Its light flashed green, and one of the guards waved her forward. She let her breath out and stepped up to the desk.

She eyed the woman’s crisp gray suit, and the desk that gleamed like it had never seen a speck of dust in its life. Then she looked down at her own clothes, the jeans and wrinkled t-shirt she had grabbed from her dresser after hanging up with Heather. She crossed her arms around her stomach.

The receptionist’s bleary surprise had vanished, replaced by a stone mask. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for…” Becca bit back the name on her lips. No. If she were in her office, she would have answered the phone. Anyway, Becca could imagine her reaction at finding out about this midnight walk to 117. Becca was on her own.

“…Heather Thomas,” she finished. “She called me half an hour ago and told me she was here.”

The receptionist’s expression didn’t tell Becca anything.

“She’s here… somewhere… she called me…” Becca’s voice trailed off. I’m not doing anything wrong, she told herself. I’m not a dissident. Heather’s not a dissident.

Which led Becca back to the question that had been circling through her mind since she had gotten Heather’s call. What was Heather doing here?

The receptionist turned away and tapped something out on her keyboard. It only took her a few seconds to find what she was looking for. She typed in something else and touched her earpiece. “We have a detainee in temporary holding,” she said to someone Becca couldn’t see. “Last name Thomas. Her file says she’s waiting for a relative to collect her. Right, that’s the one. Someone forgot to collect her phone, and she called a friend.” A pause. “No, that won’t be necessary. Just confiscate the phone.”

She turned back to Becca. “Heather Thomas is waiting for her guardian to arrive. Are you Lydia Thomas?” She gave Becca a skeptical once-over.

Becca considered saying yes, but even if the receptionist weren’t going to ask for proof, there was no way she could pass as Heather’s… aunt, she remembered after a moment. Aunt Lydia, the one who always looked at Becca and Heather like being in high school was catching.

The receptionist took her silence as an answer. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Becca wanted nothing more than to do just that. But she couldn’t leave and let this place swallow Heather. “If she’s waiting for her aunt to get here, I can wait with her until she shows up.”

“I’m sorry,” said the receptionist, already turning back to her computer. “The policy is clear. The detainee will remain in temporary holding—alone—until her guardian arrives.”

Becca was losing ground. And somewhere in this building, Heather was waiting for her. “I’m not trying to take her home or anything. I only want to…” To make sure she wasn’t locked away underground. To make sure they hadn’t gotten her mixed up with somebody else, some dissident slated for execution. “…to let her know I’m here. I promised her I’d—”

“Your refusal to leave the building when instructed will be recorded.” The receptionist placed her hands on her keyboard. “May I have your name?”

“At least tell me what happened. Why is she here? Is she all right?”

“Your name, please,” the receptionist repeated.

If she stayed much longer, the receptionist would order the guards to drag her out—or worse, in. She could end up in one of those underground cells… She shivered. They couldn’t do that to her just for asking about Heather, right?

“Your name,” the receptionist repeated again, with a glance toward the guards.

Becca slumped. “Rebecca Dalcourt.”

The receptionist blinked.

“Well,” she said, her voice suddenly warmer, “I suppose we can make an exception.”

******

Peep Rep: Oh I definitely have to read this.

Liza: Me too.

Peep Rep: Okay, but I get to read it first.

About the Author:

Zoe Cannon writes about the things that fascinate her: outsiders, societies no sane person would want to live in, questions with no easy answers, and the inner workings of the mind. If she couldn't be a writer, she would probably be a psychologist, a penniless philosopher, or a hermit in a cave somewhere. While she'll read anything that isn't nailed down, she considers herself a YA reader and writer at heart. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband and a giant teddy bear of a dog, and spends entirely too much time on the internet.

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