Meet the First Woman of the Ancient Disorder of Hell Hounds @WestonAndrew #books #darkfantasy


Gemini-lady

 

Mrs. N here and boy do I have a treat for you today. Courtesy of Bestselling Author Andrew Weston and Perseid Press, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to first ever woman to qualify for the Ancient Disorder of Hell Hounds. She agreed to an interview and I know you’ll fall for her like I did. (Nods) Go ahead and introduce yourself.

 

My name was Marie-Anne Charlotte de Corday d’Armont, or as I preferred, simply Charlotte Corday. I was born in 1768, in France to a minor aristocratic family and lived during the French Revolution. Like everyone else at that time, I got caught up in the fervor of politics and sympathized with the Girondin movement who were singled out for persecution by the leader of the Jacobin’s, Jean-Paul Marat. I decided to do something about that, and visited his home on the pretext of providing valuable information to help him advance his witch-hunt. Once we were alone, I stabbed and murdered him whilst he was in the bath and ended up being labeled, l’ange de l’assassinat, the assassin’s angel.

 

Not long after, I was sentenced to death by mob and trial, then executed by guillotine. It wasn’t until I awoke on the Undertaker’s Slab that I realized I’d been condemned to spend all eternity in hell for my sin.

 

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

The tendency to shoot my mouth off. After I arrived in hell I found it hard to adjust. Like many people sentenced to an eternity of condemnation, I went off the rails. Unfortunately, my behavior attracted the wrong sort of attention. I had a number of ill-advised run-ins with injustice, annoyed the wrong people and was subjected to permanent disfigurement as an incentive to shut up and switch on.

 

One side of my face now looks like withered, dried-up parchment while the other has been enhanced to look stunningly attractive. If that wasn’t bad enough, the Undertaker thought it would be fun to join the two sides with huge great brass surgical staples. That makes smiling or any form of facial expression a whole load of fun.
To embrace the style, I now go by the pseudonym, the Lady Gemini, and use gothic makeup and Ombre lipstick to make the best of a bad situation.

 

Which talent would you most like to have?

Well, since my reanimation, I can control the minds and behavior of insects and small animals. Some might think that’s a pretty useless skill to have, but as you’ll see in Hell Hounds, I turn this ability to my advantage more often than not. I’m beginning to wish I could influence larger creatures, such as demons, or perhaps Dread-Locks, as they’d be pretty awesome to have at my beck and call.

 

 

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

Being the first ever woman to qualify for the Ancient Disorder of Hell Hounds.

 

 

Where would you most like to live?

The underworld is a topsy-turvy place full of strange and twisted reflections of the cities and countries you find topside – that’s in the land of the living to you – or in folklore. Having travelled through quite a few levels over the last few hundred years, I think I could settle down just about anywhere. New Hell, Niflheim, Juxtapose … anywhere really, as long as it’s not Perish (That’s hell’s version of Paris) as that’s where I originally met my end.

 

 

What is your most treasured possession?

The original set of knives I used to bring an end to that swine, Jean-Paul Marat. They followed me down into hell, and have been enhanced by the Bãlefire, the unliving all-pervading spirit of the underverse.

 

 

What is your favorite occupation?

I’m very fortunate to be doing it. I kill for a living.

 

 

What is your most marked characteristic?


I think my picture might give you a clue?

 

Gemini-lady

 

 

What do you most value in your friends?

Their unflinching loyalty. This is hell where murder and mayhem is the number one pastime. Everyone’s out to stab you in the back, but after having been ordained, the Pack sticks close together. It’s like belonging to the family I never truly had.

 

 

Which historical figure do you most identify with?

Janus, the god of beginnings and endings, transition and duality. He is usually depicted as having two faces, and the mythos surrounding him kinda sums up what my unlife has become since my reanimation.

 

 

What is your motto?

When I worked for myself as an assassin, I made sure my client base knew I was totally professional. Hell might be filled with the dregs of humanity, but when it came to my art, I didn’t cut corners, kill off-book, or double-cross my patrons. I had a one hundred percent record of successful executions. I think that’s one of the reasons the Reaper, took an interest in me.
Of course, now I’ve been ordained into the Ancient Disorder of Hell Hounds, I follow their creed:
I swear to do my utmost to be guided by the Laws of Lucifer, and to protect and defend the most despicable Doctrines of the Devil. I will endeavor to pursue all enemies of the state throughout the length and breadth of the Sheolspace continuum and do my damnedest to execute both them and my duty without fear of favor, or hope of reprieve, until the morning star decrees otherwise.”

 

 

hellhoundsfullcover

 

Title: Hell Hounds

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Dark Fantasy

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:
Feared throughout the many circles of the underworld, Satan’s Reaper – and chief bounty hunter – Daemon Grim, is known as a true force to be reckoned with.

 

Having eliminated a major player in the uprising eating its way like a cancer through the underbelly of hell, Grim is stunned to discover he cannot afford to rest on his laurels, for the rebellion runs far deeper than was ever imagined. New players have emerged – denizens with uncanny abilities – who seem determined to support Chopin and Tesla’s revolutionary agenda.

 

Ever keen to test their mettle, the Sibitti – personified weapons of the ancient Babylonian plague god, Erra – also appear eager to capitalize on the growing unrest, and set about maneuvering events in order to place themselves in direct opposition to Grim’s investigation.

 

And if that was not cause for concern enough, there’s an insane angel on the loose, a creature as hell-bent on creating havoc as he is to return home.

 

How do Grim and his rabid pack of bounty hunters respond?

 

Baying for blood – doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

Excerpt

Engines snarled and horns blared.

 

Although the rush-hour traffic was gridlocked, it didn’t prevent drivers from stamping their feet to the floor whenever the rare opportunity arose. Forced to brake harshly only moments later, they were quick to lean from windows and vent their frustrations at being caught, yet again, on one of the busiest roads in the underworld.

 

Stepping out into the din, the Angel Grislington seemed oblivious to the clot.

 

“What an ingenious form of entertainment,” he mumbled, “so simple, and yet so profoundly indicative of what latter-day hell is all about.”

 

In a daze, he turned back to stare at the very latest venue in this, his Things to do and places to go itinerary.

 

“Brilliant.”

 

Strolling across to the nearest bench, he shooed a flock of hell-pigeons away and laid a newspaper across the feces-coated rungs. After taking a seat, he flipped to the front inside pages of an elaborate pamphlet detailing a brief history of the origins and development of the establishment he had just left:

 

Based firmly on a concept devised by Marie Tussaud (nee Grosholts), “Madame Two-Swords & Terrorium” is unique amongst the infinite layers of the underverse in its approach to correctional castigation and public entertainment.
In life, Marie Tussaud learned her craft from Dr. Philippe Curtius, a Swiss physician skilled in the art of wax modeling. She came to fame during the French Revolution, where she would search through corpses to find the severed heads of executed citizens from which to make her death masks. Those masks were looked upon as revolutionary flags, and were paraded through the street of Paris on a regular basis.
Tussaud’s notoriety spread and she was invited to London to exhibit her works in the Lyceum Theatre. Because of the Napoleonic Wars, she was unable to return home, and settled in Baker Street, where she opened her first independent exhibition. Tussaud’s death masks attracted a lot of interest, and she expanded her concept to include life-sized models of celebrities and renowned characters from history, both dead and alive.

 

Nevertheless, as the public’s fascination with death continued to manifest. Tussaud began to concentrate on the more sinister and macabre, guaranteeing her success as a worldwide phenomenon. Following her death in 1850, His Satanic Majesty acknowledged the value of her work by graciously sponsoring the rejuvenation of her business here, in Olde London Town.
But don’t forget, this is hell after all, and we couldn’t just leave the most infamous museum ever dedicated to the damned to its own devices. Oh no . . .
Therefore, Old Nick saw fit to add a most delicious development. Not only does Madame Two-Swords incorporate the foulest of specimens from the underworld’s past, but it also houses unliving malefactors from the present day too. Yes, in a diabolical twist, our dark father has seen to it that this is the only place in all infernity where you will be able to witness live waxwork exhibits who have incurred his wrath engaging in combat to the death.
Wait!
Did we say Live. Waxwork. Exhibits?
We surely did.
Genetically altered by the Undertaker, the cells in the bodies of our fiendish fighting felons no longer metabolize energy in the way they used to. Instead, they produce lipids, marvelous little molecules that gradually turn the anatomy of our decrepit lawbreakers into wax.
Once deemed ready for combat, they are kept in refrigerated rooms where they await the dishonor of being called forth to entertain you, our most unwelcome guests.
Armed with nothing but sword and shield, and forced into the steaming jungle heat of the Terrorium, how will they fare?
Will they quickly dispatch their foes and live to fight another day, or will their timidity amidst humidity result in a slow and wilting death?
Will they prove their mettle, or will their resolve dissolve?
One thing’s for sure, if they can’t stand the heat, they won’t last long in this devil’s kitchen of an arena, where the only way out is in the bottom of a bucket.
But don’t take our word for it, come witness the debacle for yourself.
Price: Only 20:00 Đs
***********
 
Madame Two-Swords & Terrorium, 13 – 26, Gnarlybones Road, OLT, NW1 13LR.

 

Mme.Two-Swords.co.jux.doom
As sponsored in “Flaw & Disorder”
The monthly magazine of your unfriendly Ministry of Infernal Affairs

 

(Intimidating you to help us make the underworld a bitter place)

 

 

In a reflective mood, Grislington thought back on the oppressive environment of the huge, greenhouse-like bowl of the Terrorium.

 

“What a truly amazing experience. The contenders started to liquefy the moment they stepped inside. No wonder they were so keen to get down to business. Out of the three bouts I witnessed, the only pair foolish enough to remain overly cautious literally melted away before my eyes.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hell-hounds-andrew-p-weston/1127314562?ean=2940158740053

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36472614-hell-hounds

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is a military and police veteran from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek island.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international #1 bestselling and critically acclaimed IX Series, and has the privilege of contributing to the Heroes in Hell shared universe.

 

Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrewpaul.weston

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Hell Bound and Hell Hounds by Bestseller @WestonAndrew is a Must-Read #DarkFantasy Series!


 

Title: Hell Bound – Hell Hounds

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Dark Fantasy

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:
Hell Bound

In hell, none of the condemned believes they deserve to be there. And that’s fine, so long as they’re not foolish enough to try and do anything about it. For those that do, there’s always Satan’s Reaper–and chief bounty hunter–Daemon Grim.

 

Feared throughout the many layers of the underverse, no one in their right mind dares to cross him.

 

However, when Grim discovers that someone has attempted to evade injustice, and seems hell-bent on gaining access to ancient angelic artifacts, proscribed since the time of the original rebellion in heaven, circumstances point to the fact they may be doing just that.

 

The question is…why?

 

Thus begins an investigation that leads Grim throughout the many contradictory and baffling levels of the underworld, where he unearths a conspiracy that is not only eating its way like a cancer through the highest echelons of Hellion society, but one which threatens the very stability of Satan’s rule.

 

How does Daemon Grim Respond?

 

Rest assured. It’ll be bloody, brutal, and despicably wicked.

 

 

Hell Hounds

Feared throughout the many circles of the underworld, Satan’s Reaper – and chief bounty hunter – Daemon Grim, is known as a true force to be reckoned with.

 

Having eliminated a major player in the uprising eating its way like a cancer through the underbelly of hell, Grim is stunned to discover he cannot afford to rest on his laurels, for the rebellion runs far deeper than was ever imagined. New players have emerged – denizens with uncanny abilities – who seem determined to support Chopin and Tesla’s revolutionary agenda.

 

Ever keen to test their mettle, the Sibitti – personified weapons of the ancient Babylonian plague god, Erra – also appear eager to capitalize on the growing unrest, and set about maneuvering events in order to place themselves in direct opposition to Grim’s investigation.

 

And if that was not cause for concern enough, there’s an insane angel on the loose, a creature as hell-bent on creating havoc as he is to return home.

 

How do Grim and his rabid pack of bounty hunters respond?

 

Baying for blood – doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

Excerpts:

Hell Bound –

Across the street, a small crowd of mobsters had just exited an old style ale house, and Lady Gemini became much more alert. Hunkering down into a small depression created by the collapse of a major sewer tunnel, she removed a long cylindrical pipe from one of her elongated thigh-flaps, and rummaged around in her breast pocket with the other hand.

 

I watched her movements with professional curiosity.

 

She hasn’t taken her eyes off them once. Now that’s the kind of attitude I want to see.

 

The group comprised two boss types—one a Gomez Adams wannabe, the other a startlingly accurate representation of what you would get if you stuffed a bulldog inside human flesh; a statutory retinue of muscle-bound, knuckle-dragging, brain-dead hoods; and a hulking great lawyer dripping mucus and blood with every step. His steaming name badge gleamed dully in the twilight, and identified him as Othello.

 

Scanning their auras, I doubted the combined IQs of the thugs would challenge the slime Othello left in his wake, so they were obviously there to look mean, grunt in single syllables, and take a bullet for their masters.

 

Which is what they’ll probably be doing a few seconds from now . . .

 

I adjusted the sensitivity of my sweeps and glanced back and forth between the two parties. The Godfather wake was oblivious to the danger. Gemini merely studied them from her place of concealment, and slowly raised the tube to her lips.

 

 

So who’s the mark?

Gemini’s heartbeat never wavered. Nor was there any discernible peak of excitement. If anything, her esoteric presence diminished until it was next to nothing.

 

She’s the proverbial ice queen. Detached, focused, professional.

 

Without warning, the air shimmered and Gemini winked out of sight.

 

A chameleon mesh? This should get interes-

 

No sooner had she disappeared than the undulating mass of hearse flies orbiting her proximity swooped away, and descended en masse upon the unfortunate gangsters. In moments, they were twisting and turning and waving their arms so furiously it looked as if they had suddenly decided to engage in a hip-hop dance off.

 

Is she doing that?

 

Strangled curses turned the air blue as overzealous insects began to bite.

 

One voice cried out louder than the others.

 

“Ow!”

 

Othello slapped the side of his filthy reptilian neck. He coughed, staggered, and reached out to support himself on the nearest boss. Mr. Gomez obviously didn’t like being touched—especially by a lawyer—for he swatted Othello’s hand away as if his illustrious hellegally qualified acquaintance was infected by the plague. Seconds later, Othello’s knees gave way and he crashed to the floor, whereupon his essence started to fade almost immediately.

 

The rest of the entourage took one look at the dissipating mist and starburst away from the scene in terror, closely followed by an inquisitive cloud of hungry buzzing friends.

 

Oh, very clever. She made it look like a simple acci- Eh?

 

By the time I looked back, Gemini had already slithered down from the mound and was halfway toward Westmonster Causeway.

 

Unholy cow but she’s fast. I had never seen her run before. I wonder how long she can keep it up?

 

I never found out. Reaching the banks of the river, Gemini kept going—straight as a die—leaped the shattered balustrade and jumped straight into the filthy waters of the Tombs without creating so much as a splash.

 

Hell Hounds –

Deep beneath the streets of Olde London Town, the brick-lined galleries of the main sewers resounded with the echoes of pursuit. Water splished and filth sploshed in time to erratic footfalls, and every now and then, each resonating burst of frenzied activity was punctuated by an interlude of hacking sobs as the terrified victim tried to catch both his breath and his bearings.

 

The endless chain of low wattage emergency beacons dotted along the apex of the tunnels stretched off into the distance. But their wan light did little to dispel the midnight embrace leaching into every nook and cranny, and if anything, only served to define the darkness into tighter clusters.

 

Isabella Castile slowed her pace and judged her prey’s progress.

 

It had been like this for more than an hour, ever since her quarry had discovered his second wind, in fact, and a determination to fight against the seeming inevitability of his situation.

 

Why Isabella had chosen this particular denizen, she didn’t know. Maybe the color of his hair, the cut of his pinstripe suit, the way he turned his nose up at those around him. None of it mattered now, for once started, she would continue the hunt until she had added his name to a growing list of damned souls who found themselves, at her behest, in dread repose upon the Undertaker’s slab.

 

His haphazard course through the maze was a clear indicator of the Blue Suit’s panic, and the notion that he would leave his fate to happenchance only spurred Isabella to greater efforts. That, and the sour aftertaste lacing his pheromone-ridden trail.

 

Isabella reached the latest in a long line of junctions. Pausing just long enough to taste the ether, she quickly determined his new route and set off with a fresh spring in her step and a deepening ache in her throat.

 

Not long now, my sweet. Not long.

 

A cruel smile stole its way across her lips.

 

Plunk!

 

The betraying splash tolled like a death knell in the dark.

 

Halting her advance, Isabella hugged the shadows along the far wall, and sang: “Can you hear what I hear?”

 

Her tuneful query elicited nothing but silence.

 

Creeping forward, she peered around the lip of a side shaft, her fingers testing the air like spider legs on a web. “And can you see what I see?”

 

A knife appeared in her hand where nothing had existed before. Then it was gone, traversing the fifty-foot gap in the blink of an eye.

 

A grunt coughed out of the gloom. Then a stifled curse. Moments later, the filthy waters slopping about Isabella’s feet turned crimson.

 

She stepped out into the scant illumination offered by a meager cone of light from the ceiling and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath.

 

“No, please. I’ll give you anything you want . . .” was all the Blue Suit managed to gasp before calamity fell upon him.

 

 

Buy Links:

Hell Bound –

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Hell-Bound-Heroes-Andrew-Weston-ebook/dp/B015G2AI0I

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Hell-Bound-Heroes-Andrew-Weston-ebook/dp/B015G2AI0I

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Hell-Bound-Heroes-Andrew-Weston-ebook/dp/B015G2AI0I

 

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hell-bound-andrew-p-weston/1122937633?ean=2940156681334

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26809332-hell-bound

 

Hell Hounds –

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hell-hounds-andrew-p-weston/1127314562?ean=2940158740053

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36472614-hell-hounds

 

 

Andrew Weston

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is a military and police veteran from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek island.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international #1 bestselling and critically acclaimed IX Series, and has the privilege of contributing to the Heroes in Hell shared universe.

 

Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrewpaul.weston

 

 

In Hell, We Reap What You Sow — Hell Hounds by @WestonAndrew #darkfantasy #books


hellhoundsfullcover

 

Title: Hell Hounds

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Dark Fantasy

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:

Feared throughout the many circles of the underworld, Satan’s Reaper – and chief bounty hunter – Daemon Grim, is known as a true force to be reckoned with.

 

Having eliminated a major player in the uprising eating its way like a cancer through the underbelly of hell, Grim is stunned to discover he cannot afford to rest on his laurels, for the rebellion runs far deeper than was ever imagined. New players have emerged – denizens with uncanny abilities – who seem determined to support Chopin and Tesla’s revolutionary agenda.

 

Ever keen to test their mettle, the Sibitti – personified weapons of the ancient Babylonian plague god, Erra – also appear eager to capitalize on the growing unrest, and set about maneuvering events in order to place themselves in direct opposition to Grim’s investigation.

 

And if that was not cause for concern enough, there’s an insane angel on the loose, a creature as hell-bent on creating havoc as he is to return home.

 

How do Grim and his rabid pack of bounty hunters respond?

 

Baying for blood – doesn’t even begin to describe it.

 

Excerpt

Deep beneath the streets of Olde London Town, the brick-lined galleries of the main sewers resounded with the echoes of pursuit. Water splished and filth sploshed in time to erratic footfalls, and every now and then, each resonating burst of frenzied activity was punctuated by an interlude of hacking sobs as the terrified victim tried to catch both his breath and his bearings.

 

The endless chain of low wattage emergency beacons dotted along the apex of the tunnels stretched off into the distance. But their wan light did little to dispel the midnight embrace leaching into every nook and cranny, and if anything, only served to define the darkness into tighter clusters.

 

Isabella Castile slowed her pace and judged her prey’s progress.

 

It had been like this for more than an hour, ever since her quarry had discovered his second wind, in fact, and a determination to fight against the seeming inevitability of his situation.

 

Why Isabella had chosen this particular denizen, she didn’t know. Maybe the color of his hair, the cut of his pinstripe suit, the way he turned his nose up at those around him. None of it mattered now, for once started, she would continue the hunt until she had added his name to a growing list of damned souls who found themselves, at her behest, in dread repose upon the Undertaker’s slab.

 

His haphazard course through the maze was a clear indicator of the Blue Suit’s panic, and the notion that he would leave his fate to happenchance only spurred Isabella to greater efforts. That, and the sour aftertaste lacing his pheromone-ridden trail.

 

Isabella reached the latest in a long line of junctions. Pausing just long enough to taste the ether, she quickly determined his new route and set off with a fresh spring in her step and a deepening ache in her throat.

 

Not long now, my sweet. Not long.

 

A cruel smile stole its way across her lips.

 

Plunk!

 

The betraying splash tolled like a death knell in the dark.

 

Halting her advance, Isabella hugged the shadows along the far wall, and sang: “Can you hear what I hear?”

 

Her tuneful query elicited nothing but silence.

 

Creeping forward, she peered around the lip of a side shaft, her fingers testing the air like spider legs on a web. “And can you see what I see?”

 

A knife appeared in her hand where nothing had existed before. Then it was gone, traversing the fifty-foot gap in the blink of an eye.

 

A grunt coughed out of the gloom. Then a stifled curse. Moments later, the filthy waters slopping about Isabella’s feet turned crimson.

 

She stepped out into the scant illumination offered by a meager cone of light from the ceiling and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath.

 

“No, please. I’ll give you anything you want . . .” was all the Blue Suit managed to gasp before calamity fell upon him.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B076GWZ4DW

 

Barnes and Noble https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hell-hounds-andrew-p-weston/1127314562?ean=2940158740053

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36472614-hell-hounds

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is a military and police veteran from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek island.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international #1 bestselling and critically acclaimed IX Series, and has the privilege of contributing to the Heroes in Hell shared universe.

 

Social Media Links:
Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/andrewpaul.weston

 

 

 

Death is only the beginning of the adventure — The IX by @WestonAndrew #books #scifi


ixcoverlarge

 

Title: The IX

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:

Roman legionaries, far from home, lost in the mists of Caledonia.

 
A US cavalry company, engaged on a special mission, vital to the peace treaty proposed by Presidential candidate Abraham Lincoln.

 
A twenty-first century Special Forces unit, desperate to prevent a nuclear catastrophe.

 
From vastly different backgrounds, these soldiers are united when they are snatched away from Earth at the moment of their passing. Thinking they may have been granted a reprieve, imagine their horror when they discover they have been transported to a failing planet on the far side of the galaxy, where they are given a simple ultimatum. Fight or die. Against all odds, this group of misfits manages to turn the tide against a relentless foe, only to discover the true cost of victory might exact a price they are unwilling to pay.

 
How far would you be willing to go to stay alive?

 
The IX.

 
Sometimes, death is only the beginning of the adventure.

 

 

 

Excerpt:

The domed Hall of Remembrance was vast. Despite its size, the chamber had been cunningly designed to amplify sound. Doctor Ayria Solram’s steps rang out clearly as she walked toward a huge cenotaph-like structure that had been constructed in the exact center of the room, opposite a set of massive windows. Clicking off into the furthest reaches of the auditorium, her footfalls echoed twice about the room before fading.

 

Over fifty pairs of eyes followed her closely. That wasn’t surprising. At forty years of age, Ayria cut an imposing figure. Standing well over six feet tall, she matched the stature of most of the men now staring at her in wide-eyed admiration. Ayria wore her waist length, midnight blue hair in a no-nonsense braid which didn’t hide the fact that her mane was glorious. Curling over her shoulder and across her torso like a well-fed python, it captured attention whenever she moved.

 

Her smooth, softly tanned skin and dark eyes were in stark contrast to the sterile white lab coat she wore. Nevertheless, the overall effect was striking.

 

Indicating the monument with a sweep of her arms, she said, “Now, this should be of particular interest to you. This is called the Reverence.”

 

All faces turned to study the twenty-foot high monolith. Fashioned from a richly veined slab of rock, it appeared to be seamless, and resonated gently from all four sides with a softly pulsing, blue phosphorescence. The top of the structure was formed into a trapezoid, upon which rested a glowing sphere.

 

Aryia pointed to it. “The light you see is not just a power source. It’s also an indicator, intimately linked to the life energies of every living soul currently residing on Arden. Your esoteric signatures were added shortly after you arrived here, and as you can see, the device is glowing with a gentle aquamarine radiance.”

 

Gesturing around the outer edge of the hall, she drew the crowd’s attention to a number of astonishing bas-reliefs which had been cut directly into the fabric of the wall. Stretching from floor to ceiling, each was of a similar size and gave the impression that the open leaves of a gigantic tome had been superimposed onto the rock.

 

A small dais had been erected before each frieze, upon which an artifact or plaque had been positioned, highlighted by a softly humming radiance.

 

“Are those the names of refugees I can see on the pages?” Marcus Brutus asked, astonished by the sheer volume of people who had been taken from their homes.

 

“I’m afraid not,” Ayria replied. “While it is true that the Architect has relocated literally thousands of us over the years, the lists you see here represent our dear brothers and sisters who have fallen to the Horde.”

 

A palpable shock ran through the entire group.

 

“Are you serious?” spluttered James Houston. “But there are . . . thousands. How many names are up there, lady?”

 

“Just Ayria, please. Or Doctor. In answer to your question, the sacrifice of over twenty-one thousand souls has been recorded here. When someone dies, the Reverence registers the missing life force and turns red for an entire day. It also burns their name into a corresponding page.”

 

“Holy God!” Houston  turned to stare at a young cavalry officer standing next to him. Addressing him, Houston whispered, “We’ve got to stick together, Wilson. Just you and me. Watch each other’s backs.”

 

Some of the other men standing close by glared at the pair in disdain.

 

“If I may ask a question, Ayria?” Marcus interjected. “How is it that I, a humble soldier of Rome, can read and understand this writing? I recognize it as a form I have never witnessed before, yet I find myself comprehending its meaning almost instantly.”

 

“That’s due to nanotechnology,” Ayria replied. Walking toward him, she tapped the side of her own head. “Remember, the avatars explained something of the process we use here. Because a great many people are being brought together from across time, the Ardenese had to make sure we understood each other clearly. Even a single language can change radically during the course of many centuries, so they thought it best we were educated in theirs. They were a very advanced people, socially as well technologically. And because they had employed the use of artificial intelligence as a means to educate themselves for a number of decades prior to their fall, they realized the best way to help us was to adapt those tiny little machines for our use. They’re inside our brains right now, teaching us and allowing us to learn new things at a greatly accelerated rate.”

 

Marcus frowned.

 

“Have I confused you?”

 

“No, my lady, not at all. I look bewildered because I can grasp the sense of what you’re saying . . .” He turned to look about him in wonder, “. . . and yet, this is all so very strange to me.”

 

Marcus glanced toward his compatriots and shrugged. Like him, Flavius and their fellow legionnaires were still finding the adjustments difficult to cope with. They were warriors, and unaccustomed to such godlike contrivances.

 

An awkward silence ensued.

 

Seizing the moment, Mac stepped forward. “I take it each engraving represents an actual influx of candidates?”

 

A sea of faces turned to look at him. Until now, Mac and his men had kept themselves apart, content to stand quietly to one side with a group of stoic Native Americans. However, Mac had noticed how each of the lists was arranged. Pointing to the wall, he continued, “There are nine open books along the circumference. One is blank, so that must indicate us, as no one is dead yet. Therefore, the other eight obviously refer to those who have come and gone before us, yes?”

 

“Very astute. Lieutenant Alan McDonald, isn’t it?”

 

 

Buy Links:

Audio

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/IX-Book-1/dp/B01MCZ7XEU/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1478062836&sr=8-1

Audible http://www.audible.com/pd/Sci-Fi-Fantasy/The-IX-Audiobook/B01MCZ83B8/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1478545349&sr=1-1

 

Digital and Print

Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/IX-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00RM54QBA/ref=sr_1_1_twi_kin_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1477728328&sr=8-1&keywords=The+IX

Amazon.co.uk: https://www.amazon.co.uk/IX-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00RM54QBA/ref=sr_1_1_twi_kin_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1477728420&sr=8-1&keywords=the+ix

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ix-andrew-p-weston/1121115575?ean=9780986414008

Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/The-IX/53402841

 

andrew-weston-2016

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is an ex-military ex-police expat from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek Island.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society, the British Science Fiction Association and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

 

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with one of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for Astronaut.com and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

 

Fight or Die! Bestselling The IX Series by @WestonAndrew #FridayReads #SFF #books


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Title: The IX Series

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

The IX Series – Blurb:

What could unite a Roman Legion and the Caledonian army they are fighting?

 

Or a US Cavalry Company with the Native American tribes arrayed against them?

 

How about a highly trained and motivated Special Forces unit and the terrorists they have been sent to wipe out at all costs?

 

Yes…

 

What could such a diverse and mutually aggressive group possibly have in common?

 

Arden – and the Horde, that’s what!

 

Arden, home to a culture that has existed for thousands of years and which spans dozens of worlds. Regardless, their sophistication cannot prevent calamity at the hands of an unstoppable nemesis. Known only as the Horde, this enemy has proven relentless. They have not only stripped the outer colonies bare, but now threaten the existence of the entire Ardenese way of life.

 

Realizing there is nothing they can do to prevent the inevitable march toward extinction, the Ardenese governing body comes to a drastic decision. They gather together at their capital city, Rhomane, and place their remaining genetic heritage in a vast underground ark, in the care of an advanced AI construct called the Architect. Its mission? To use Rhomane’s dwindling reserves and safeguard their race by reaching out across time and space toward those who might be in a position to help reseed a devastated world at some time in the future.

 

That’s how soldiers from varying eras and vastly different backgrounds find themselves together. Snatched away from Earth at the moment of their passing they are transported to the far side of the galaxy. Thinking they have been granted a reprieve, their relief turns to horror when they discover they face a simple but stark ultimatum:

 

Put aside your former animosities and preconceptions in order to survive. Yes…

 

Fight or die!

 

How does this group of mismatched and antagonistic misfits fare?

 

Do they survive?

 

Find out for yourselves, in The IX Series.

 

Like them, you’ll discover death is only the beginning of an incredible adventure.

 

 

Excerpt:

For as far as his eye could see, the endless tide of rabid hunger continued to advance. They came pouring into the valley from all sides, and the entire basin was soon filled with seething, shrieking monstrosities of every conceivable shape and form. Not one of them stood under two decans in height.

 

Nearing their goal, the leading entities of the Horde howled with malice and leaped forward. Dashing their bodies against the augmented might of the battlements seemed pointless to Sariff, for the attackers achieved nothing but to spend their vitality in a blaze of explosive fury. Yet the utter futility resulting from their lack of imagination did nothing to lessen their frenzy. In spite of their comrades’ fate, wave after wave of them continued throwing themselves to their deaths in wanton abandon. So great did the overwhelming press of shadow and flame become that the repeated detonations of each attacker’s self immolation grew into one prolonged cacophony of light and heat. Despite its density, the entire breadth of the wall thrummed under the weight of the assault.

 

And still they come.

 

Sariff blanched in the face of the onslaught, witnessed here on Arden for the first time.

 

As First Magister of Rhomane City, he seized the opportunity to study the enemy closely, for his would be the deciding vote in a decision that would seal the fate of their people.

 

He shook his head in disbelief, for he could see no respite from the relentless storm threatening to engulf them.

 

Thirty planets overrun in the space of just fifteen months. More than fifty billion souls lost. A history and a culture spanning more than twelve thousand years brought to this. It’s a bitter pill to swallow. And we risk it all on an idea . . .But what choice do we have?

 

Everywhere he looked, Sariff saw only the inevitability of death. Unless, by some miracle, Calen’s gamble paid off. That thought reminded him. I’d better get a move on.

 

So mesmerized was he by the display of savagery below, he almost collided with the duty commander, Sol Beren. Sariff hadn’t heard the soldier’s silent approach, but that was understandable. The veteran warrior was a skilled tracker, renowned for keeping his men on their toes by his sudden, wraithlike appearances at different stations along the wall. Everyone marveled how he could be seen taking the lead at one post only to be spotted minutes later on the other side of the city entirely, without having used the transport pads.

 

His face a mask of determination, Beren studied the conflict before him. A cold and empty gaze reflected the bitter frustrations of a man who had seen too many men die worthless deaths.

Sariff wished there was something he could say to ease the commander’s burden. Instead, all he could ask was: “Will it hold?”

 

Buy Links:

The IX:

Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/IX-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00RM54QBA/ref=sr_1_1_twi_kin_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1477728328&sr=8-1&keywords=The+IX

Amazon.co.uk: https://www.amazon.co.uk/IX-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00RM54QBA/ref=sr_1_1_twi_kin_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1477728420&sr=8-1&keywords=the+ix

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ix-andrew-p-weston/1121115575?ean=9780986414008

Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/The-IX/53402841

 

Exordium of Tears:

Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/Exordium-Tears-IX-Andrew-Weston/dp/0996428992/ref=sr_1_1_twi_pap_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1458486718&sr=8-1&keywords=exordium+of+tears

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Exordium-Tears-IX-Book-2-ebook/dp/B01AAFEU6O/ref=sr_1_1_twi_kin_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1458486810&sr=1-1&keywords=exordium+of+tears

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exordium-of-tears-andrew-p-weston/1123449634?ean=9780996428996

Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/ip/Exordium-of-Tears/53441852

 

andrew-weston-2016

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is an international bestselling author from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats. An astronomy and law graduate, he has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society, the British Science Fiction Association and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

 

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with one of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for Astronaut.com and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website : http://www.andrewpweston.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

Pinterest: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

 

 

Keeping Things Balanced: A Writing Guest Post by @WestonAndrew + a Birthday Top 10 #amwriting


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For those of you who tune in regularly to N. N. Light Author Promotions, you’ll be aware that one of my previous guest posts related to World Building. Entitled – Keeping Things Real, it highlighted my approach to the process of constructing an imaginary framework in which to set an adventure. I likened that process to preparing and cutting a rough diamond. Starting with an overview of the world I’m going to create, I begin to work from the outside in on its various facets: Where it’s situated; who its inhabitants are; what’s their history; what level of technology do they posses, and so forth and so on.

Having already covered that, this time around I thought I’d expand on Keeping Things Real, by introducing you to the next stage of my world building process:
“Keeping things balanced.”

What do I mean? People who have enjoyed The IX have often commented on the rich descriptive prose it contains. I say, “thank you” for that, because I put a lot of work into creating a visual image that the reader can connect to. I think that’s especially important when you come down to the flora and fauna of the world in which your story is set, especially if – as in The IX – your heroes and protagonists are flitting about, here and there, on one adventure or another.

So, how did I manage to keep things balanced for The IX?

That’s easy. I created visual templates to work from. The reason? Something I learned in the military. “Prior preparation and planning prevents poor performance.” Such an approach ensured I never strayed from what I originally set out to portray. For example, say hello to an early idea of what Arden – the home planet where The IX is set – should look like:

arden-template

In creating a visual reference, I give myself a template to work from. In this case – a once beautiful world that thrived under a red sun. Now recovering from the ravages of a long and bitter war, it is only just reclaiming the majesty it once had. This, and other images and sketches, helped me transpose my initial ideas into the places you read about. My aim? To ensure there was sufficient detail so that you could envision yourself there. Let me highlight what I mean.

If you’ve read The IX, you’ll no doubt remember that various members of the Ninth journeyed through the lavender grasslands of the Sengennon Strait; lost themselves in the purple-green woodlands of the Tar’e-esh forests; basked in the majesty of the Garnet Mountains. Did you ever conjure those places in your mind’s eye? Did they look anything like this?

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tareesh-2-copy

garnet-copy

These are the preliminary references I used as a benchmark from which to create the full reality of Arden. (Now, don’t be fooled into thinking I only had these odd few pictures). As I hinted, I built up an extensive library of such images so that the places, the people and the technology you read about – and the ships – all contain the details you would expect in a factual reality.

Of course, when you incorporate so many elements you have to keep things to a realistic scale.

For example, I have all these pretty pictures of the places mentioned in The IX, but, just how far is it from Rhomane to the Starport, or to the Tar’e-esh Forest? How close is the astrometrics lab to the Starport itself?

As a writer, you need to know such details so that the events you describe within your narrative have that ring of authenticity. Fans will know Lieutenant Mac McDonald led a military expedition to the Starport to recover drones left there in storage. Some of his compatriots provided long-range cover from the astrometrics complex on top of Boleni Heights. Marcus Brutus headed an expeditionary force to the Shilette Abyss, a journey that took his pioneers through the Tare-esh Forest.

What were the distances involved? Over what terrain? Some used futuristic hover craft, others used horses. How long did their respective journeys take? How do you keep a track on timescales?

Have a look at the maps I devised to help me keep things in perspective.

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Even though they’re basic, I know some of you might think…“Wow! That’s a lot of detail before you even put pen to paper.” Well, I agree. It is. But remember the analogy of a rough diamond I used earlier? This amount of attention pays divides as you write the story itself. It cuts and polishes your gem of an adventure and – as I’ve said before – adds those touches here and there that can make the narrative sparkle.

And when you get a professional to back that up? (Take a look at the map included within the front section of The IX. Devised from my sketches by cover designer, Roy Mauritsen, it adds that element of shininess that makes you think of my head).

ixtemprhomaneprofessional

You see, my ethic goes a little bit like this: My job is to give you – the reader – a place that you can escape to and lose yourself in. The easier it is for you to relate to the characters and visualize the world in which the story is set, then the deeper your connection, and the further your journey will take you. The further you go, the more you’ll appreciate what The IX is all about. And we’re both happy.

If you value your readers, you’ll be prepared to put the work in so that their fantasies seem so real, it’s almost as if they come true through the pages of your book. 🙂

**********

andrew-weston-2016

My name is Andrew P. Weston – though I’ve been called a lot worse by my wife when I’ve dared to say the forbidden words all women hate to hear…“No, you can’t have that.”

(Light blue touch paper and run…)

As an author, I make things up all the time. So I thought it might be a nice idea to use this “Top Ten” post to find out a little more about the real me – warts and all.

Oh really?

Yes. And we’re going to do this in a rather novel way.

What do I mean? Well, November 12th (today) is my birthday, making me a Scorpio, allegedly, one of the most mysterious signs in the zodiac. A great deal seems to be said about people born under this star sign, as exemplified by an advert my wife, Annette, spotted on a media site earlier this week.

scorpio-t-shirt

As you can see, the t-shirt is covered by quite a few astrologically based statements associated to Scorpios. But, are these statements true, or are they myth?

Let’s find out, shall we, by taking a little look at ten categories, working from the top down…

(And bearing in mind, I have to keep this rated PG –13) NO – you won’t be forced into listening to me lie about my feats of Olympian sexual athleticism.
Now, if we were talking about Greek comedy, I’m your man 😉

Has incredibly high standards

It’s true. I do have incredibly high standards. And it’s not just because I served in specialist roles within the military and police. It’s just the way I am. The thing is, it’s not one-sided either. While I do my best not to expect the impossible from people around me, I do demand those standards from myself – all the time. Which can be a real pain if things need to be done in a rush…because, you’ve guessed it…they still have to be perfect. (Bummer).

Great Kisser

As long as it’s not a certain part of other people’s anatomy…? Maybe.

(I never suck up to anybody, you see)

But if you want an honest answer, you’ll have to ask my wife. (Though everyone does comment on how happy she always looks.) I haven’t the heart to tell them that’s down to constant medication. Ah, the rigors of living with a Scorpio.

Fun fact: The Greek custom is to kiss people when greeting them and saying goodbye. I simply don’t do that. Kissing is for my wife…and my wife only.
(She’d only hunt them down anyway, and you’d never see them again. Then there’d be police, and questions, and…)

Kills haters with success and breaks them with a smile

My goodness this one is spot on. And as an author, I’ve very glad I’m a Scorpio. I’m in a position now where I’m starting to get noticed. That’s very rewarding, but it does attract the “haters”, those who want to elicit a reaction by writing / leaving inflammatory comments in things like reviews.

My advice? Never, ever respond to them openly. Let your continuing application to your craft and your motivation to improve provide the impetus to silence such scoundrels with the success that will come. Then, one day, somewhere far down the line when you’re terribly rich and famous, you can smile in secret behind the smoked glass windows of your limo and not give a fig about them at all.

Human Lie Detector

Most definitely. And here’s the weird thing, I can taste the mood of a room as soon as I walk in. I think it has something to do with one of the other categories we’ll discuss – being observant – as well as some form heightened perceptions. But it’s always been there, and it’s something I’ve always been able to do.

Imagine the fun I had in the police. As a detective, you attend all sorts of classes on human behavior and psychology. There are myriad “tells” that come in clusters that help you spot when a person is being economical with the truth.
And when you arm a Scorpio with such skills…? (Are they quite mad?)

Another fun fact: I sometimes play a little game when my wife and I go to parties. Spot the Walter – Walter Mitty – those charming characters who couldn’t be honest if their lives depended on it and are always out to impress with exaggerations and complete fabrication.

(Not that I do this all the time, of course, but it certainly helps liven the more tedious evenings up).

Introvert – but can socialize like an extrovert

This is spookily true with a capital spoo.

When many of my friends first got to know me, they never realized I’m an introvert. But that’s down to the way I can flip a switch in my head if I “feel” in the mood, or the circumstances are right.

Remember those police courses I mentioned? Like everyone else, I always thought there were introverts and extroverts. Full stop.

It turns out; there are introverted introverts; extroverted introverts; introverted extroverts; and extroverted extroverts…and all sorts of sub-categories in-between.
I’m an extroverted introvert. When I walk into a room of people I don’t know, you wouldn’t actually realize I was there. I’ll blend into the background and flit from shadow to shadow as if I don’t exist. But, if I meet someone I click with? Lights – camera – action! Cast of Annie, eat your hearts out. (Minus the ridiculously curly ginger hair of course)…

Observant

Yup! As with the lie detector category, it’s one of those things I have always had a knack for. And again, my previous occupations helped enhance that skill and turn it into something rather exceptional.

In the military, in particular, you had to notice all sorts of little details that other people tend to overlook. And thank goodness, for it kept me alive on a number of occasions.

You can imagine how this helped as a police officer too. I served in a crime management & intelligence bureau for a number of years where it was essential to spot patterns that others had missed. Interesting work and sooo satisfying, bringing baddies who thought they’d gotten away with it, to justice.

Want a fun fact: Although life gets quieter, you never lose the knack. I have to be very patient, especially at this time of year leading up to Christmas when I pretend I’m not paying attention to Annette’s unsubtle HINTS about certain items of clothing, jewelry, DVDs, or the music she likes. Hee hee.

It really does take a lot of discipline, as her little face sometimes screws up in frustration, thinking her suggestions have gone over my head…

(But the look on her face when she opens her presents and realizes I was paying attention all along? Priceless) All together now, aaaah.

Very good sense of humor

True, true, true, true, true! My humor is so intergalactically broad you could fly starships along it. The trouble is, it’s often gotten me into trouble too. My working environment didn’t help in this regard. Serving in the military and police force hones your humor. You have to be thick-skinned, broad-shouldered, trigger-fast and snappy just to survive. But, oh boy is it worth it. I’d love to expand, but this is PG-13.

Private – occasional loner

It’s like someone has been following me around. True again.

My wife and I have lived in Kos, one of the smaller Greek islands in the Dodecanese, for eight years now. We have a small circle of friends, both Greek and British. While most know all there is to know about Annette, very few are aware of the exact nature of my previous occupations, the places I’ve been, or the things I’ve done. Many people here don’t even realize I write books now, or that they’ve been international #1 bestsellers. (True).

I mix when I want to, and don’t feel the overwhelming need to regularly attend coffee mornings just to be sociable. I’m not being rude or standoffish, I just like to keep myself and my business to myself…which makes it a bit difficult doing things like this, eh?

Still, I can hide behind my screen. It has sandbags and barbed wire and a trench. And laser cannons. Why would I want to come out?

Fun fact: When we meet new people, they often complain that we end up talking about “them” all the time and they haven’t had the chance to find out anything about us.
(Just the way I like it).

Wants to be the best at everything

Myth. Though I can see the misconception.

I think it relates back to the #1 item about the standards expected of me. Ever since I was little, I was pushed to succeed. From the age of 4, I attended swimming training every morning before school. That bled over into other sports. By the time I joined the military, I’d represented my school, college and county (I think the American equivalent is a “state”) at rugby, swimming, athletics and various martial arts. I’d also been selected for international trials at two of those disciplines.
It was the same academically. I have a voracious thirst for knowledge and could read before I attended school. Add to that a sticky mind, and it was little wonder I managed to eat my way through various scientific curriculums, my chief subjects being mathematics, physics, astronomy – and in later life – criminal law.
To be honest, I don’t think its wanting to be the best so much, as wanting to do my best. If I start a project, be it learning a new language or picking up a new skill, I never give anything less than 100 %. As a child, teenager, young adult and now – apprentice doddery old fart – I’ve never been any other way (You can probably see that from the preparation and detail I devote to my stories).
While I appreciate some might think such an outlook adds a lot of needless pressure to life, I look on it as being normal.

Hell, I’m nearly 56, but I still train every day and teach martial arts on top of all the other stuff I do. Life’s for living. I’ll rest when I’m dead.

Question: The pulsating vein I have on the side of my head…Is that normal or down to the excessive amounts of medication I imbibe?

Protective of the ones I love

So true it hurts.

Not to be nasty, you understand, but you do not want to make my wife or children feel threatened. You just don’t…Not ever. Think about what I used to do. I would gladly serve prison time to even a debt if the magnitude was serious enough…That’s all I’ll say. The end. Goodbye.

So, there you go. A little look at the truth behind astrological myth. I can honestly say I’ve never paid much attention to things like astrology. I’m too levelheaded. However, having realized how accurate this picture is, I might just change my mind J

Until the next time you visit my asylum, do take care…

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Title: The IX

Author: Andrew P Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

Publisher: Perseid Press

Book Blurb:
The IX:

Roman legionaries, far from home, lost in the mists of Caledonia.

A US cavalry company, engaged on a special mission, vital to the peace treaty proposed by Presidential candidate Abraham Lincoln.

A twenty-first century Special Forces unit, desperate to prevent a nuclear catastrophe.

From vastly different backgrounds, these soldiers are united when they are snatched away from Earth at the moment of their passing. Thinking they may have been granted a reprieve, imagine their horror when they discover they have been transported to a failing planet on the far side of the galaxy, where they are given a simple ultimatum. Fight or die. Against all odds, this group of misfits manages to turn the tide against a relentless foe, only to discover the true cost of victory might exact a price they are unwilling to pay.

How far would you be willing to go to stay alive?

The IX.

Sometimes, death is only the beginning of the adventure.

Excerpt:

Ephraim entered another cipher into the console before him. All three main wall screens skipped channels to present a series of starkly different vistas. A palpable shock ran through the entire gathering. Several people gasped out loud.

The first monitor showed the rim of a burnished orange-red sun emerging from behind the bulk of a majestic disc. The star’s corona burned brightly, casting a warm scarlet glow through the upper reaches of the atmosphere of the world below it. The planet itself appeared etched in liquid flame around its edges, while the majority of its mass was cast in mystery and shadow.

The middle display revealed a similar scene but from a different perspective, this one being positioned above the terminator of sunrise and sunset. To the left of the picture, cotton-candy clouds swirled through a sea of sapphire-blue radiance. The crystal lens of the expanse was infused with vaporous trails of soul-wrenching tranquility. On the right, darkness dominated. Ebbing reluctantly under the relentless advance of dawn, it gradually surrendered its secrets. Noctilucent particles manifested themselves amongst the gloom, followed closely by the tallest mountain summits. Like beacons, they revealed tantalizing glimpses of the glory to come.

The final screen faced out into a Jovian sea of purple-blue grandeur. An ocean of midnight silk upon which the luminescence of a billion astral sprites had been cast in random abandon. Each pinprick blazed coldly with an unadulterated purity that struck the hearts and minds of the gathered assembly with the force of a sledgehammer.

Captivated, Ephraim became lost in the moment. Somewhere out there, a lifetime away, our real home sails serenely through the heavens . . . How ignorant we were of the dangers that exist, just a cosmic stone’s-throw away.

“Are these satellites able to show us Arden in greater detail?” Marcus asked. “What is the term you use? Can they . . . zoom in and remain clear?”

“They can indeed, my friend. For example . . . .”

Ephraim presented them with a vision of remarkable scope. A solitary peak pierced the night. Protruding toward the sunlight like a symbol of hope, its alpine cap strained to free itself from the twilight mists congealing about its slopes in a miasma of serpentine possessiveness.

The image wavered, and a closer view of that same pinnacle resolved itself. Now, the cobalt-blue frown of a granite leviathan stood forth in pristine clarity, peeking out from hoarfrost-covered brows. A snowy crown adorned the apex, and where the rock face greeted the dawn, it glittered cruelly, burning as if the entire edifice were ablaze within a skein of ice and flames.

Above the slopes on one side, a huge bird of prey stretched its wings and soared amid the very epitome of serenity sublime made manifest.

Everyone leaned forward. Ephraim chose that moment to switch satellites.

A contrasting swathe of undulating greens and blues made everyone start. The picture flickered and intensified. The panorama scrolled across verdant forests, swaying grasslands, and undulating plains. The luxuriant fertility of the temperate zones faded as the scanners moved on, toward the equatorial region.

The gaping chasm of the Shilette Abyss hove into view. Once there, Ephraim manipulated the controls to skim east. Less than a minute later, he held position above a point where the two sides of the canyon seemed to bulge toward each other. Changing resolution, he smoothly zoomed in to present a live-time image of the mining site from less than two hundred feet up. People could clearly be seen, walking to and fro about their business.

Marcus suppressed a laugh.

Several others cheered.

Mohammed and Saul stared at each other, the implications of this latest development written clearly across their faces.

“These places you’re showing us appear remarkably bounteous and free of infestation,” Saul commented. “Do you think this confirms our latest suspicions? That something here in the city appears to be the Horde’s target, and they’ve congregated in one location to get it?”

“Hazarding a guess? I’d say that was highly likely. But we can discuss that at tomorrow’s briefing. By then, we’ll have uploaded the specs of the rotational frequencies that Mac and his team use. Combining them to the already existing filters the satellites employ will give us an accurate assessment of exactly where on the planet our enemy is congregating. Be in no doubt — the addition of the Satcom-net will provide us with a huge tactical advantage we never dreamed of.”

“Such as?”

Ephraim scanned through the contents of his personal screen again. Then he glanced back at Brent and Asa. Each of them was privy to the information it contained, and both were grinning like maniacs.

Buy Links:

Now available in Audio:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/IX-Book-1/dp/B01MCZ7XEU/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1478062836&sr=8-1

Audible http://www.audible.com/pd/Sci-Fi-Fantasy/The-IX-Audiobook/B01MCZ83B8/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1478545349&sr=1-1

E-book and Print:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/IX-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00RM54QBA

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/IX-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00RM54QBA

Nook http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ix-andrew-p-weston/1121115575?type=eBook

B&N Paperback http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ix-andrew-p-weston/1121115575

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is an ex-military ex-police expat from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek Island.

An astronomy and law graduate, he has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society, the British Science Fiction Association and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with one of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for Astronaut.com and Amazing Stories.

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

Publisher: Perseid Press

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

 

Listen to the International Bestseller The IX by @WestonAndrew #ScienceFiction #Audible


ix-audiobooklarge

 

Title: The IX Audiobook

Author: Andrew P Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:

Roman legionaries, far from home, lost in the mists of Caledonia.

A US cavalry company, engaged on a special mission, vital to the peace treaty proposed by Presidential candidate Abraham Lincoln.

A twenty-first century Special Forces unit, desperate to prevent a nuclear catastrophe.

From vastly different backgrounds, these soldiers are united when they are snatched away from Earth at the moment of their passing. Thinking they may have been granted a reprieve, imagine their horror when they discover they have been transported to a failing planet on the far side of the galaxy, where they are given a simple ultimatum. Fight or die. Against all odds, this group of misfits manages to turn the tide against a relentless foe, only to discover the true cost of victory might exact a price they are unwilling to pay.

How far would you be willing to go to stay alive?

The IX.

Sometimes, death is only the beginning of the adventure.

 

Giveaway:

To celebrate the audio release of International Bestseller The IX, Andrew Weston and Perseid Press have generously provided “read for free” Audible codes to the first five people who comment below. This is a $24.95 USD value.  Hurry, this is a first come, first serve promotion. N. N. Light will contact the winners via email.

 

Downloading Your Free The IX on Audible Instructions:

Go to my book’s page on Audible.com: http://www.audible.com/pd/Sci-Fi-Fantasy/The-IX-Audiobook/B01MCZ83B8/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1478545349&sr=1-1

Add the audiobook to your cart.

Create a new Audible.com account or log in.

Enter the promo code and click “Redeem” on the cart page.

To change the price from full price to $0.00, click the box next to “1 Credit” and click the “update” button to apply the credit to your purchase.

Complete checkout, and start listening to the free copy of the book.

 

Excerpt:

“A good point,” Marcus acknowledged. “But therein lies the wisdom of strategy. Our mission is of the utmost importance. It is vital we locate and secure the site in which the mineral deposits are thought to be located. But remember, because the city has been isolated for so long, we won’t know until we get there how accurate the archives are. Also, the actual Abyss itself and this forest are totally alien to us. They have to be checked out first. We also need to carry the supplies and utensils necessary to quickly establish a base of operations if things turn out favorably. Commander Cameron faced a conundrum. How could he move so much equipment over such a long distance without the need for machines which are needed elsewhere and which might draw our enemy’s attention?”

 

Gesturing between them, Marcus emphasized, “That’s where we come in. Cavalry and legionnaires. Although we can’t hope to match the speed and grace of a highly sophisticated hover craft, we are nevertheless skilled at transporting large consignments over long distances at a speed unmatched by our contemporaries. And we can do so secretly. Additionally, the defensive measures we now have at our command will protect us, and allow us to set up a considerable series of fortifications from the outset. Just wait until you see what my men can build in a matter of hours. By the time the shuttle runs do begin, they’ll have the luxury of berthing overnight within a city of fabricated domiciles.”

 

“I’m looking forward to that.” Wilson smiled. “I watched your men drilling a few times back in Rhomane, and it was very impressive. The guys couldn’t believe how quickly you worked. To see it for real will be —”

 

Both men were disturbed by an outrider galloping full tilt toward them. The rest of the dozing company became instantly alert and began scanning the shadows.

 

Throwing up a hasty salute, the soldier reined in and addressed Marcus. “Sir, the forest ends abruptly, about a mile ahead. It . . . It’s . . .”

 

“Spit it out, man.”

 

“Sir. It’s awesome, come and see.”

 

Signaling for the immediate group to follow, Marcus put his heels to Starblaze’s flanks and spurred his horse forward. A few minutes later, he reached several other sentries who were waiting to one side of the road. The highway veered away sharply to the southwest, so Marcus was surprised to be led off the tarmac and into the gloom.

 

An eldritch veil thick with antiquity closed about them. Specimens that looked like a cross between beech and cedar, oak and elm, ash and spruce, each endowed with massive boles, filed off into the distance. Stately monarchs of a forest that seemed to suddenly hold its breath in anticipation. Threading his way between iron trunks and cable-like roots, Marcus wondered what secrets this brooding edifice must contain, and if it would ever be possible to find your way out if a person became disoriented.

 

You don’t realize how dense this place is until you leave the safety of the main thoroughfare. I’ll have to order markers placed to ensure our more inexperienced travelers don’t go getting themselves lost. And I’ll restrict hunting too, at least until we’re more familiar with the area. Goodness knows how much further it goes.

 

He needn’t have worried. After five more minutes of painfully slow travel, the swathe drew back and shafts of rose-gold brilliance punctuated the canopy in one place after another.

 

Everyone relaxed as they sensed a change ahead.

 

Even so, when the party broke free from dappled shade and rode into the harsh glare of direct sunshine, everyone was taken completely by surprise.

 

Mars preserve us!

 

Shocked, Marcus could only stare. I can see why my sentry was rendered speechless.

 

A shattered plain rolled away on both sides, providing a severe counterpoint to the undulating barrier of the forest’s perimeter. The compact, ruddy surface of the plateau shimmered in the heat of the midday sun. As the mounted group moved out onto the shelf, their movements caused swirls of scarlet dust to dance into the air.

 

Shading his eyes, Marcus tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

 

The ground was littered with pock-marks, each of which contained a smattering of gold and red rocks. A foul-smelling steam issued from a number of fissures and scalloped clefts. Wherever the vapors concentrated together, the soil was stained by a copper-colored residue.

 

Marcus could make out the shimmering white line of a bridge, about five miles away, obviously accommodating the continued course of the main highway. Closer to him, a smoother, rectangular area stood out in stark contrast to their cratered surroundings.

 

Hmm. Obviously a parking area for vehicles.

 

As intriguing as these distractions were, however, they paled under the imposing presence of the leviathan before them.

 

A huge canyon, over seventeen miles across and eight deep, gouged its way across the plane of their sight. Marcus knew from his mission briefing that the company now stood at one of the narrowest points of the Shilette Abyss. The gulf itself stretched away for over a thousand leagues, east and west; and for most of its length, the other side was so far away it would be impossible to see.

 

He marveled as to how the Ardenese had contrived to construct anything to cross such a gaping chasm, for the cliffs of the valley were an unstable maze of razor-sharp edges and unforgiving rocks that could give way without warning.

 

There, not three hundred yards in front of them, sat the real surprise. The bluff plunged away to form a huge cleft, a monster fissure over seventy feet wide which appeared to have been hacked into the earth to form a V-shaped crevice.

 

Cantering forward, the excited explorers discovered a tiered series of shelves, corresponding to levels of strata, leading down the cliff wall.

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/IX-Book-1/dp/B01MCZ7XEU/ref=tmm_aud_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1478062836&sr=8-1

Audible http://www.audible.com/pd/Sci-Fi-Fantasy/The-IX-Audiobook/B01MCZ83B8/ref=a_search_c4_1_1_srTtl?qid=1478545349&sr=1-1

 

andrew-weston-2016

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is an ex-military ex-police expat from the UK who now lives with a large amount of cats in a medium sized house on a small Greek Island.

An astronomy and law graduate, he has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society, the British Science Fiction Association and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with one of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for Astronaut.com and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

 

Best-Selling Author @WestonAndrew Reveals His Top 10 Memories #scifi #PerseidPress


Hi, my name is Andrew Weston. I’m an author living in a cupboard under the stairs…? Sorry, the darn medication must be off again.  Truthfully? I like to spend my time fishing for dreams among the stars. I haven’t caught anything yet, so perhaps it’s time to change my bait?

Anyhow, as some of my readers will be aware, before turning my hand to writing, I experienced life’s rich tapestry as a specialist in the military, and later, as a police officer in a number of varied roles. Looking back over the years, I thought it might be fun to reveal my “Top Ten Memories” (Or, at least, those recollections I’m willing to share – hee hee).
They’re not necessarily in order, as I tried to group them together into little themes, but such experiences made me the person I am now, and in a strange way, have influenced my writing. See what you think…

 

  1. The birth of my first child: (Or indeed, all of my children, come to that). A tremendous experience that no father should miss…especially when you’re allowed to assist. A privilege I enjoyed for each of my little gems.
  2. Delivering a child: And it wasn’t one of my own! I’d only been in the police for several years and after serving in a city environment, moved to a rural station covering hundreds of square miles of forest. That’s when I came across a young couple who had broken down while driving to hospital for their first baby. Back seat of a car – no problem! (To be honest, mother did all the work – father did most of the sweating and pacing up and down, and I merely pretended it was just another day at work). And do you know what; they didn’t name the baby after me?
    (Just as well, it was a teeny-tiny girl). All together now, aaaaaah!
  3. Getting arrested: Seriously. As I progressed through my career, I worked undercover on a number of occasions. During a sting where I’d been placed among a gang of druggie thieves, a number of officers from out of area were brought in to assist in rounding up the dregs of society. They took one look at me and decided I was one of the most unsavory individuals they’d ever seen, and I was the first one they jumped on. Those fur-lined cuffs really pinched. Ah – happy times.
  4. Throwing myself out of a perfectly good airplane: Not too much to say here as so many other guys in the military have done a similar thing. But the sense of freedom you get on the hill…ah, there’s nothing like it.
  5. Getting shot: Staying on a military theme. Top tip: not recommended. And while I appreciate the fact you have to expect it when you join the military – and especially in the kind of role in which I served – it’s a bit of a bummer when it actually happens to you for the first time. (A true “protruding bottom lip moment” if ever there was one).
  6. Discovering I am immune/resistant to the euphoria opiates are supposed to instill: What can I say? I’m one of those quirks of nature. Following a serious injury – mentioned above – and later episodes in my life, I have been hospitalized on a number of occasions. Try what they might…morphine, codeine, tramadol, fentanyl, doctors could find a lot to help. I didn’t get high; it barely reduced the pain; and really, all I took away from the experience was constipation, itchy rashes and bathmat tongue. (No wonder I ended up working undercover on certain departments, eh?)
  7. My mom, the drug cultivator: See how this continues a pharmaceutical theme? While I was serving in the police, I’d pop home to Birmingham, in the UK, to see how my parents were from time to time. On one occasion, my wife and I arrived late on a Friday evening, and after a meal, went to bed.
    So you better understand the setting, you should know my mom owned an antique restoration business and used to live above the premises itself. While this meant she had no front garden – as that was given over to customer parking – she had a rear courtyard, in which she used to grow plants and cuttings she’d collect while out on countryside walks.
    So, there I am, Saturday morning, bright and early. I take a cup of tea out into the rear courtyard, sit down, and as I’m raising the cup to my lips, come face to face with one of the healthiest cannabis plants I’ve ever seen.
    What the flip-flop?
    Managing to swallow a mouthful of tea without choking, I put my mug on the floor, lean forward and actually pinch myself. It can’t be? Yes it is. NO! It can’t be?
    I examine it for the umpteenth time, and eventually accept the inevitable truth.
    ..you little par-tay minx!
    So, then I’m thinking…how they hell do I slip this into the conversation naturally?
    Anyway, about half an hour later, mom gets up; makes her own tea; dawdles out into the yard, whereupon I join her on the bench and compliment her on her green fingers and say how nice the makeshift garden is looking. I point at one or two shrubs and bushes, and ask her a little bit about them, and gradually work my way toward exhibit ‘A’.
    “So, when did you get that particular plant over there?”

“Oh that?” she says, “I was out walking Ben – the dog – up Haldon Woods. He ran off into the undergrowth, and when I went to find him, I spotted a whole load of them in a glade. I liked the shape of the leaves so took a cutting to bring home.”

“You liked the look of the leaves, eh?” I say, wondering where this will go.

“Yes,” mom replies, “I was hoping they’d have flowered by now so I could see what color the petals are.”

I start laughing. She asks me what’s so funny, so I explain, “Well, you’re gonna be out of luck. By now, the leaves would normally be drying and ready for rolling.”

“Eh?” And I’m glad to see she appears genuinely puzzled.
“Mom…how can I put this? People don’t normally grow these for their pretty flowers. They’re more interested in smoking the leaves?”

“Eh?” she mumbles again.

“That’s a cannabis bush.”

“A what?”

“Cannabis. Weed. Ganja. An honest-to-God, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred pounds and go directly to jail, cannabis bush.”

“Don’t be so ****ing stupid,” she spluttered, “It can’t be drugs. They were growing wild in the middle of the forest.”

(I know…sigh)

“In a glade, off the beaten track, right?”

“Yes,” she replies indignantly, “so there’s nothing suspicious about them.”

….How I wish you could have listened in on the conversation….
Long story short? I quickly put her right about the tricks of the trade many drug dealers employ to grow their wares, and ensured the drugs were properly disposed of. (And no sitting round in circles and inhaling deeply was involved)

  1. Climbing my first mountain: See? I’m still talking about getting high…the connections abound in this top ten 🙂

monte-rosa-02
1983 – Monta Rosa, Switzerland

A truly exhilarating experience and something that gave me the climbing bug.

  1. Getting naked when I shouldn’t: Intrigued? Well, I had to attend hospital for a follow-up surgery for one of my injuries – this one, to my left shoulder.
    Those of you who have also been in a similar position know the score. You go into a little waiting cubicle. You’re told to take off your clothes, place them in a locker, and put on the items laid out for you on a chair. (In this case, hospital slippers and robe) Somewhat Spartan, but what can I say. The NHS is struggling.
    When the operating team was ready, a nurse came to get me, and escorted me through to the preparation room.
    I walk in there – everyone’s busy preparing for the op – and as they go about their business, one of the surgical staff says, over their shoulder, “Just take off you robe and wait over there.”

I thought…hello? But then I reasoned, well, they obviously know what they’re doing, and they’ve seen it all before.
So I took off my robe and stood there like a peacock, proud and defiant…until one of the nurses turns round, spots I’m naked, and let’s out a yelp of surprise… “Oh my God, where’s your gown?” (You know – the paper-thin tie-up pinafores that shows your butt to the world)

Bemused, I replied, “What gown?”

“The gown in the changing cubicle.”
“There wasn’t any gown in the changing cubicle,” I tried to explain, by now, strategically gesticulating so as to hide my morning glory, “I was told to take off my clothes and put on the stuff placed out on the chair.” Pointing desperately, I made sure to emphasize, “That’s the slippers on my feet and that robe draped over the counter…” Then I added the punchline…”I thought it a bit strange you’d want me to be naked for a shoulder operation?” Ta-dah!

We laughed.
They got me a gown.
We laughed again.
Then they put me out, and I’m sure, talked about it and laughed even more while I was unconscious. Sigh – good times.

  1. Getting set up on a blind date: Some of you might know the score. Friends phone you up out of the blue and invite you out. You turn up. Several other couples are also “mysteriously” in attendance, along with a cunningly arrange single lady whose been fooled by the lies they’ve told about you. Ha!
    Well, I’m actually very glad that happened, as that’s how I met my wife.

And here we are on our wedding day…

DSCF0681
See, all you romantics out there…Blind dates can work 😉

 

(Apologies for the state of the photo – but it’s reproduced from an actual picture)

 

So, there you go. A Top Ten that’s a little bit different. But, when you think about it, it’s still “author related” as it’s often said – Write What You Know.
Having experienced quite a few things most people never get to see and do – and having had a great deal of fun along the way – I can dip into those various episodes and “relive them” through the pages of my work. When you’re able to add those little details of what a certain episode feels like, sounds like, tastes like, the transformation it creates to your interpretation of the fictional environment adds that depth of perspective that plucks your scene from the page and places it where it belongs: alive and kicking, within the imagination of your reader.

 

IXExordiumLARGE

 

Perhaps you’ve spotted that as you read The IX Series or Heroes in Hell? I do hope so, as it makes the effort I put into my work all the more worthwhile.

 

Anyway, that’s it for now. Next time? My top ten tips regarding personal grooming and the washing of shaved heads. See you then.

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe). Andrew also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for http://Astronaut.com  and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

Writing for Shared Universes: Guest Post by @WestonAndrew #amwriting #books #SFF


hellboundLARGE

 

As some of my readers will be aware, as well as being the creator of the IX Series (The IXExordium of TearsPrelude to Sorrow – TBR) I also devised the rather dark and devilishly intense character of Daemon Grim.

 

Now, this guy is none other than the Grim Reaper himself, Satan’s chief bounty hunter and go-to guy in times of trouble, and you get to read about his trials and tribulations in the #1 international bestseller, Hell Bound, and the sequel due toward the end of this year through Perseid Press, Hell Hounds.

 

The thing is, there’s more to the Reaper than first meets the eye, as his exploits form part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe.

HIH

 

Don’t know what Heroes in Hell is all about?
Heroes in Hell is a series of shared world fantasy books, within the genre Bangsian fantasy, created and edited by Janet Morris and written by her, Chris Morris, C. J. Cherryh and others. The first 12 books in the series were published by Baen Books between 1986 and 1989. The series was resurrected in 2011 by Janet Morris with the thirteenth book and eighth anthology in the series, Lawyers in Hell, followed by four more anthologies and two novels between 2012 and 2015.
Of note is the fact the stories from the series include one Hugo Award winner and two Nebula nominees.

 

The shared world premise of Heroes in Hell (also called The Damned Saga) is that all the dead wind up together in Hell, a devilishly wicked arena where anything and everything can go wrong in the relentless pursuit of their various ends.

 

Here’s the list of recent releases since 2011:

Lawyers in Hell
Rogues in Hell
Bridge over Hell
Dreamers in Hell
Poets in Hell
Doctors in Hell
Hell Bound

 

So, why would I want to contribute to a shared universe? The answer is simple– For the challenge.

 

Think about it. With the IX Series, I can basically do whatever I want. I can have as many protagonists and antagonists as I see fit. Run them through hoops. Put them here, there, everywhere and make them fit just about any situation I care to conjure up. On the other hand, when it comes to writing for Heroes in Hell, I can’t do that.

 

A shared universe is governed by its own fundamental forces. It has its own rules, as to where and when its sets. Principles govern it subjects regarding their interaction with each other and the realms they live in. Simply put, there are limitations on what you can and cannot do, especially if your story includes characters ‘owned’ by another contributor.

 

Daemon Grim, for example, is leader of the Hell Hounds, (a select cadre of damned hunters) and the Inquisitors (Satan’s special interrogators). Because these individuals are of ‘my’ devising, I have a pretty long leash on what I am allowed to do with them – as long as I stay within the guidelines governing the Rules of Hell.

 

However, Grim and his cabal regularly interact with other notables, such as the Undertaker, the Kigali, and the Sibitti. These particular creatures ‘belong’ to other authors so I have to follow an adopted procedure.

 

First, I need permission to use them in my own stories. Second, I have to agree not to involve them in anything that can change their nature or cause permanent repercussions. And finally, I have to ensure they ‘stay in character’ when they interrelate with others.

 

For example, in Hell Hounds, there’s a scene where Grim faces off against the Sibitti. As personified weapons of the plague god Erra, the Sibitti have a distinct way of fighting. So I need to ensure I stay true to their modus operandi.

 

Do you see the challenge in this? I can’t simply think up a fight scene – my specialty – and go with my natural flow. I have to adopt the specific current those characters I’m borrowing adopt when in battle, and ensure I reflect that appropriately.

 

This is particularly apparent in the yearly themed compilations Heroes in Hell is famous for. Look at the list of recent releases from 2011, and you’ll see topics as diverse as lawyers and dreamers to poets and rogues. Grim, for example, was introduced in the 2015 Doctors in Hell anthology. The next selected theme – due for release in Fall 2016, is Pirates in Hell, a calling completely at odds to that of a doctor, as I’m sure you’ll agree. Do you see the variety this affords?

 

But you might think…hang on, doesn’t that make the larger books you write a little disjointed? Well, it could, if I didn’t keep a careful balance. Let me explain:

 

When Janet invited me to write for Heroes in Hell, we came up with the idea of leapfrogging the novels with the anthologies to keep things tight and integrate Grim more fully into the universe. So, Hell Bound follows on immediately after the action in Doctors. The forthcoming Pirates short story – Pieces of Hate – carries on Grim’s adventures three months after the events in Hell Bound. In turn, Pirates will lead into Hell Hounds, and so on and so forth. Do you see the forethought and planning this involves?
You might wonder, why on earth do I put myself through it?

 

That’s easy. I want to improve.

 

As writers, we owe it to ourselves and our readers to become the best we can be. Now, I’m a disciplined and focused person. I work hard to develop and nurture my own distinct “voice” which I hope is apparent in my work. The trouble is, when we rely solely on our own preferences, we can sometimes limit the extent to which we can mature.

 

I like contributing to the shared universe because the various themes touch on topics I wouldn’t normally consider. Doing so accelerates my learning curve and broadens my skills and experience. In the end, it’s you – the reader – that benefits.

 

Intrigued?

 

Well, if you want to find out more about the diversity of writing for a shared universe, check out some of the latest releases in Heroes in Hell. Some great writers contribute to every edition, and their various styles ensure there’s always something in the anthologies for everyone.

 

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

Perseid Press: http://www.theperseidpress.com/

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe). Andrew also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for http://Astronaut.com  and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

 

Meet Marcus Brutus from Exordium of Tears by @WestonAndrew #SFF #books


IXbanner-ad_exordium - Large

 

My name is Marcus Brutus, onetime Triari Centurion of the 9th Legion Hispania, dispatched with my brothers to quell the Celtic uprising in the cold and misty wastelands of Caledonia, north of Britannia. We failed in our mission due to the interference of powers beyond our understanding. Thinking we had been extended a reprieve at the moment of death, my brothers and I awakened on a far distant planet where we were given a simple ultimatum. Fight or Die. Yes, it seemed our skills were needed again, and thus began an unbelievable journey that emphasized a stark reality. Death is just the beginning of the adventure.

 

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

To fulfill my duties with honor, and then be given an opportunity to leave a life of bloodshed behind. Before all this happened, I’d served Rome for many years and was determined to see the day when I retired, found a wife, and had the family with whom I could settle down and grow old and fat with. Just because my circumstances have changed doesn’t change my aspirations. One day, all this chaos, all this upheaval will be over, and I will make my dreams a reality.

 

What is your greatest fear?

That I might give way to fear in front of my enemy. Trepidation grips all soldiers from time to time. It’s what makes us human, and only a fool would deny they never experience the dread of battle. But a true warrior faces his fear. Conquers it. Makes it his constant companion. Only then can we appreciate our own mortality and the value of what it is we fight for.

 

What is the trait you most deplore in others?

Cowardice, and a refusal to think of your brothers in battle. Such a man is a weak link in times of crisis and often gets those around him killed. I’m glad to say, the ranks of the Ninth Legion have been purged of such dross, and we remain true to our tenet of steadfast service.

 

Which living person do you most admire?

Commander Saul Cameron – if indeed he still lives – for he shepherded countless thousands of refugees from Earth through a relentless siege and gave them, and the future of Arden, a fighting chance to be reborn anew.

 

What is your current state of mind?

Obviously, I am under a great deal of stress. To be plucked from your life and deposited on an entirely different planet to fight somebody else’s battle once, is enough in my books. To find it has happened to us again? Well, I’m still trying to get my head around the implications of that, especially as we now have the integrity of our own historical timeline to consider. You have a saying in the future: “Walking on eggshells?” I think that sums my predicament up rather well, as I constantly have to juggle the needs of the future against those of keeping my men alive.

 

Which living person do you most despise?

The turncoat, James Houston. Like us, he was snatched away from a normal life and placed here under extraordinary pressure. A supposed officer and a gentleman, he has done nothing but scheme and plot to use this nightmare to his own advantage. He is not only a coward, but a murderer who lacks the slightest ounce of honor. He’d see every one of us dead, just to extend his life for just one day. I’ll not give him that opportunity, and will see him ended if it’s the last thing I do.

 

What is the quality you most like in a man?

A willingness to do his best, whatever the circumstances, and to work as part of a team.

 

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?

“By Pluto’s Beard.” During the Gaul campaign, I was badly injured and at death’s door for two months. I kept the god of the underworld at bay by cursing him to his face, a habit I’ve continued since then whenever I face dangerous or frustrating situations.

 

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Ha! I’d have applied to join the Eighth Legion. Perhaps then I’d have been able to settle in southern Gaul as I’d always wanted. Failing that, perhaps the Praetorian Guard? Caesar Hadrian seemed to like me enough when he bestowed the golden torc upon me. If only I’d taken him up on his offer before all this mess started.

 

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

I kept the majority of my men alive at the Battle of the Line in Rhomane City. Mere hundreds of us faced thousands upon thousands of Horde demons. But we showed them the mettle of the legion. Tempered in fire, we were forged anew and broke them. Since then, every one of us is closer than blood, and every one of us are willing to give our all if the need arises.

 

What is your favorite occupation?

I am – or should I say, was – rather fond of the pilot training I received after my arrival on Arden. I know the nano-bots inside my bloodstream help to augment my understanding and comprehension, but the wonders of soaring higher than an eagle could ever go never ceases to amaze me. Think about it. From what I have learned since my arrival on Arden, people from my time could only gaze at the stars in the night sky and wonder. This adventure may have torn me away from home, but now my battlefield exists among those very stars. And I get to see them for what they are…suns of infinite magnitude and majesty, many possessing other planets in which life teems in its myriads. Such treasures we’re beyond the imagination of those from my era. And here I am, living a dream in reality.

 

What is your most marked characteristic?

Despite my elevation to general, I still show regard for the common man and am willing to listen – and indeed value – the opinions of others, even when they differ from my own. Fortunate, I might be. Omniscient, I’m not. Listening to the insights of others has saved my skin on more than one occasion, and after all these years, I don’t intend to stop now.

 

What do you most value in your friends?

Their unflinching calmness in the face of chaos. Those closest to me have shared the crucible of battle and been flensed of pretense. My new friends from Arden have likewise faced many trials and tribulations. Such provide a great deal of support and source of wisdom when I need it most.

 

How would you like to die?

If I’m not extended the opportunity of growing old and fat, I hope I die making a difference. Elysian Fields or no, as long as my death has meaning, I’ll be satisfied.

 

IXExordium-Large

 

Title: Exordium of Tears.

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Science Fiction.

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:

Fight or die.

That simple yet brutal reality is the tenet by which the refugees from Earth – including the fabled lost 9th Legion of Rome; the 5th Company, 2nd Mounted Cavalry Unit; and the Special Forces Anti-Terrorist Team – were forced to live by while the Horde menace existed. Believing that the threat is over, the survivors now yearn to settle down, start families, and reclaim the lives stolen from them.

But such aspirations might remain beyond their reach, for a shadow looms on the rose-tinted horizon of new beginnings.

The release of the re-genesis matrix has done much to foster a restoration of exuberance across Arden. Along with a resurgence in floral and faunal diversity comes the results of splicing the Ardenese and human genomes: transmutation. A metamorphosis of stunning magnitude that not only affects the living, but those still is stasis as well.

Recognizing the emergence of a new hybrid species, the Architect – the arcane AI construct tasked with the preservation of the Ardenese race – responds by unlocking previously hidden and inaccessible areas of the city. It also releases an archive of sealed state secrets. Such revelations are eagerly perused, whereupon a shocking discovery is made.

Prior to the fall, it was common knowledge amongst the Senatum (the highest levels of Arden’s government) that not all the rabid Horde had joined in the rampage across the stars toward Arden.

Realizing that the peril still exists, the newly reformed administration elects to respond in earnest. Existing resources are utilized, suitable candidates are chosen, and a flotilla of ships is sent out to secure, quarantine, and reclaim the outer colonies.

A mammoth and hazardous undertaking. And nowhere more so than at the planet from where the outbreak was known to have originated – Exordium – for there, the ancient Horde are not only supremely evolved and highly organized, but are capable of a level of lethal sophistication, the likes of which has never been witnessed before.

It is into this kiln of incendiary potential that the cream of Arden’s fighting forces is deployed.

Worlds are torn asunder, suns destroyed, and star systems obliterated. Yes, tragedy is forged, in a universe spanning conflict which proves once again that…

Death is only the beginning of the adventure.

 

Excerpt:

His commanders moved away, passing on his orders. With smooth precision, the legion filed inside and fanned out to take up their respective positions.

Marcus followed. He hadn’t taken more than twenty paces when he noticed a soft crackling underfoot. He glanced down and saw a brittle ivory powder covering the floor in a light dusting.

Did the re-genesis matrix manage to percolate down through the barriers? Amazing. It’ll make our job a damned sight easier if it did.

Putting that hope out of his mind, he concentrated instead on the hazards presented by their surroundings. Even after the third centuria left for their designated positions, breathing room was tight. So closely packed were the stalagmites and stalactites that he and his men were constantly squeezing between petrified tears, and the endless weave and bob soon grew exhausting. What’s more, their only light came from random illuminations cast by the drones or their helmet-cams. When these caught exposed facets of rock, the gloom was transposed by scintillant prismatic aspirations that only served to confound the eye.

Strange, how in a place and at a time like this, beauty can be an unwanted distraction.

Undeterred, they pressed forward, dogged, cautious.

Five minutes later, the telltale gleam of an energy barrier came into view. More than ten yards across and eighteen feet high, the huge blockade loomed at the exact point where the maze ended and the Cathedral narrowed into a natural chokepoint.

And beyond, we finally come to the end of our journey.

Vergilius snapped his fingers and his men deployed, adopting a series of defensive formations in preparation for the assault. Behind them, members of the first centuria completed final weapons checks.

“General,” someone hissed, “come and look at this.”

A group of soldiers to his left stood by a small fissure. From his position, the entrance was difficult to see, for it was shrouded in darkness and bent back in on itself. As Marcus strode toward them, the crunching sound beneath his feet became louder. He looked more closely, and got the impression that he walked on broken shards of discarded porcelain vessels.

He reached the crevice and peered inside to find a modest-sized antre. Except this was no fairytale grotto. It was full of bones.

Thigh bones, rib bones, pelvic bones. Femurs, fibulae, tibiae. And skulls. Skulls lay everywhere. Some were intact and grinning insanely, as if delighted at the prospect of a friendly face after an eternity of isolation; others lay in ruins, fragmented or crushed into dust. Only then did Marcus realize what they’d all been stepping on.

Of course, they must have fled here in their numbers during the initial outbreak, hoping to escape the madness. But they were found . . . and by berserkers too, from the look of it.

He studied the way the remains had been shattered and strewn about.

Not content to simply devour the essence of their victims, the monsters must have torn everyone apart, perhaps to enhance the flavor of their meal with terror?

In his mind’s eye, Marcus tried to reenact the scene.

Even so, it hurt to imagine the insatiable hunger of frenzied fiends as they rampaged, and the inevitable reaction of the helpless colonists as their flight led them here to their doom.

And they couldn’t have realized their panic would act like a beacon, drawing that doom toward them like moths to a flame. Except these moths were hulking great monstrosities driven by a craving so rabid it bordered on delirium.

Roars of glee, screams of terror. Flashing talons, primal cruelty. Severed limbs, tumbling in aerial display. Crimson orbs, glowering with lust. Ruby entrails, spilling gore. Glittering fangs and punctured jugulars, spraying blood in a fountain wash, staining ancient seams in the splith of human ruin.

An itch wormed its way up Marcus’s spine. He backed away and looked outside. The sense of unease was spreading: his hardened veterans glanced nervously from side to side. As they moved, their helmet lights sent peril reeling across the ceiling and cast flickering threats that made it appear as if danger lurked behind each column and within every shadow.

“Can you feel that?” Tiberius called.

The prickling intensified, and soon Marcus’s bowels were shuddering.

I’ve felt that sensation before.

“They’re coming,” Marcus bellowed. “Notify surface units and stand to.”

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/Exordium-Tears-IX-Andrew-Weston/dp/0996428992

 

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Exordium-Tears-IX-Book-2-ebook/dp/B01AAFEU6O

 

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exordium-of-tears-andrew-p-weston/1123449634?ean=9780996428996

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe). Andrew also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for http://Astronaut.com  and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Publisher: Perseid Press

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

Time-Travelling Author @WestonAndrew Divulges His Top 10 Films #Books


My name is Andrew P. Weston. I’m a time-travelling author from the future, hiding a dark and mysterious past, who currently finds himself kicking his heels in the present with nothing to do except study the cultural impact films have had on the many generations I’ve enjoyed visiting. Flitting back and forth through the spacetime continuum has its perks. Only last week, (thirty years from now), I was able to feast on such treats as: Star Wars XXIV – A Continuing Menace; The Fast and the Furiously Repetitive 19; and Die – Hard to Kill This Franchise Off.

 

Here are my top ten picks of worthy, thought provoking films from your era:

 

  1. Wuthering Heights – the original. Laurence Olivier and Merle Oberon. A timeless epic, capturing the mood of bitter angst, class division, inequality and all-consuming love.
  2. The King and I: Debora Kerr & Yul Brynner. You cannot beat the pomp and ceremony of the original. Fantastic setting. Brilliant cast. Awesome entertainment. “Shall we dance…?”
    Interesting Fact: Yul Brynner is one of only a handful of people ever to have won an Academy and Tony Award for the same role.
  3. The Forbidden Planet: Leslie Nielsen and Walter Pidgeon. Now this was decades ahead of its time. The forerunner for so many science fiction wannabes that never achieved the same standard.
  4.  The Ten Commandments: Charlton Heston. An absolute epic, and out of this world for special effects in its day. Far superior to later attempts to cover the same material…(And another film Yul Brynner popped up in? The sly old fox).
  5. Saving Private Ryan: Tom Hanks and a vast cast. Gritty, realistic. As an ex serviceman who has seen combat, it truly moved me, as I felt it accurately portrayed how cruel war can be, and how true heroes are forged. They’re just ordinary boys – and nowadays girls – from next door who answer the call, face their fears, and accomplish something extraordinary. Sadly, not all of them make it home. Never forget…we owe our freedom and liberty to their sacrifices.
  6. Way Out West: Laurel & Hardy. Good old-fashioned nostalgic fun. I love the tickling scene, and you can see Rosina Lawrence trying not to laugh and grinning from ear to ear when they recorded it. (I wonder how many takes that took.) And an excellent reminder that a truly entertaining film doesn’t need all the fancy gimmicks they have nowadays. Speaking of which…
  7. The Matrix: Keanu Reeves and many others. Outstanding.
    Interesting fact: You do know it explains the truth about reality, don’t you? We all have that feeling that something’s not quite…?
  8.  Bladerunner: Harrison Ford , Rutger Hauer and others. “I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe…” (But I don’t want to talk about what I did last weekend). The hidden subtext and moral dilemma this excellent noir sci-fi classic portrayed will – I’m sure – survive the test of time. A truly poignant film.
  9.  Grease: John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John. Don’t cringe…I know you can sing all the words to every song…exactly like I can J (Tell me more…?)
  10.  The Devil Wears Prada: Meryl Streep. Anne Hathaway. Emily Blunt. What can I say? I have an eye for things that will never go out of fashion. (Sniff, sniff… “Has one of today’s readers been eating an onion bagel?”

 

IXExordium-Large

 

Title: Exordium of Tears

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

Publisher: The Perseid Press

 

Book Blurb:

Fight or die.

 

That simple yet brutal reality is the tenet by which the refugees from Earth – including the fabled lost 9th Legion of Rome; the 5th Company, 2nd Mounted Cavalry Unit; and the Special Forces Anti-Terrorist Team – were forced to live by while the Horde menace existed. Believing that the threat is over, the survivors now yearn to settle down, start families, and reclaim the lives stolen from them.

 

But such aspirations might remain beyond their reach, for a shadow looms on the rose-tinted horizon of new beginnings.

 

The release of the re-genesis matrix has done much to foster a restoration of exuberance across Arden. Along with a resurgence in floral and faunal diversity comes the results of splicing the Ardenese and human genomes: transmutation. A metamorphosis of stunning magnitude that not only affects the living, but those still is stasis as well.

 

Recognizing the emergence of a new hybrid species, the Architect – the arcane AI construct tasked with the preservation of the Ardenese race – responds by unlocking previously hidden and inaccessible areas of the city. It also releases an archive of sealed state secrets. Such revelations are eagerly perused, whereupon a shocking discovery is made.

 

Prior to the fall, it was common knowledge amongst the Senatum (the highest levels of Arden’s government) that not all the rabid Horde had joined in the rampage across the stars toward Arden.

 

Realizing that the peril still exists, the newly reformed administration elects to respond in earnest. Existing resources are utilized, suitable candidates are chosen, and a flotilla of ships is sent out to secure, quarantine, and reclaim the outer colonies.

 

A mammoth and hazardous undertaking. And nowhere more so than at the planet from where the outbreak was known to have originated – Exordium – for there, the ancient Horde are not only supremely evolved and highly organized, but are capable of a level of lethal sophistication, the likes of which has never been witnessed before.

 

It is into this kiln of incendiary potential that the cream of Arden’s fighting forces is deployed.

 

Worlds are torn asunder, suns destroyed, and star systems obliterated. Yes, tragedy is forged, in a universe spanning conflict which proves once again that…

 

Death is only the beginning of the adventure.

 

Excerpt:

The cavern’s vaulted interior resonated with silence. More than a hundred yards wide, it was a natural feature etched from living rock by the slow and patient attrition of running water over thousands of years. As time passed the wellsprings ran dry, and the chamber gradually drained. Once barren, the cavity lay undiscovered for millennia until explorers from a faraway world happened upon it during their initial surveys prior to colonization.

Recognizing its value, those adventurers adapted the character of the gallery to suit their own purposes, transposing its simple grandeur into a wonderland of startling complexity and delight.

Yet even this transformation had been a long, long time ago, and for many years now the facility remained abandoned.

Although subdued, illumination was still afforded by a swarm of ethereal holographic constructs. Of unknown purpose, these nevertheless had been rigged to serve the mechanism dominating the cavern’s center.

Here, a circular dais more than twenty yards across rose from the floor. Above it, a pair of gleaming U-shaped collars hung suspended in midair. Each measured over fifty feet in length and were positioned so that their open arms bowed toward each other. Within the expanse of their embrace, a tear challenged the authority of spacetime itself. Appearing like a DNA helix, it slowly revolved around its own axis, warping reality to its will. A gentle breeze flowed toward the rent from each of the cavern’s exits, betraying the presence of a subtle vacuum.

Blip — blip — blip!

Harsh in the silence, a warning tone blurted from one of the control stations closest to the feature. Two adjacent projectors flickered to life. As their emitters focused on a condensed shimmering fog of ionized gas, a series of complex equations appeared. The beams intensified, and a stream of translucent symbols scrolled down the misty page.

“Anomaly detected,” a voice announced. “Please stand by . . .”

Background generators kicked in. A steady whine signaled the buildup of impressive potential.

“Target recognized and locked. Quantum tunnel initialized. Temporal sheath established. Safety overrides engaged . . .”

An oscillating tone added deeper counterpoints to the coalescing energies. Underlying vibrations increased dramatically. Static sparks jumped out to scratch at the invisible plane lurking between the brackets. Lightning flashed, once, twice, then the void yawned wide and a tornado of warped sensibilities bloomed forth in a churning bore that somehow encompassed both pelagic and volcanic attributes.

“Gateway activated. Spectral sensors primed. Data retrieval will commence in three, two, one . . . Downloading.”

A surrounding halo of ancillary equipment lent its weight to the process, and by its light hitherto unnoticed features of the chamber stood revealed.

Unlike the rest of the control center, a large area along the western periphery was free of equipment. Desks, cabinets, and scanners occupying that zone had been smashed to pieces and thrown to one side to make room for the assortment of power cables trailing along the floor and into a wide pool of gelatinous goo.

The air above the mucus shivered gently, as if wallowing in the heat of a welcome zephyr. No sooner had the wormhole stabilized than the undulating curtain flared into a confusing amalgam of Orphic contradiction. Strontium-red passion vied against a well of midnight gloom. Magnesium-silver flares rushed to counter all-consuming darkness. And finally, neon-blue tendrils of scorching hot plasma contended the threat of everlasting obscurity. Such was the frenzy of the outburst that the atmosphere itself bristled, and nearby metallic objects clanged together as they became magnetized.

Hidden at the very edge of the visible spectrum, a nest of nightmare apparitions languished in hibernation. The commotion had disturbed their repose and triggered an instinctive reaction. Roused to the verge of consciousness, their glittering fangs snapped imaginary necks. Steaming talons twitched toward phantom aggressors. Huge great jaws opened, and piercing howls joined together in a cacophony of spine-tingling complaint. Several pairs of eyes fluttered open and in that instant, an overwhelming sense of barely suppressed rage and rabid hunger flooded the cavern with the promise of certain death.

“Cycle completed,” the same automated voice intoned.

The combined resonance of multiple stations shutting down droned through the gallery.

“Geodesic anchors retracted. Astrophasic tracking nodes disengaged. Gravity locks releasing in three, two, one . . . Mark.”

The humming swarm abruptly cut off.

“Returning to passive-scan mode. Info-packet prepared. End run . . . Execute.”

The hovering screens went blank, and the control room was thrown into darkness once more.

Deprived of the source of their agitation, the beasts’ emotions cooled, and they were soon lulled back toward slumber. The energized cloud hovering above the ectoplasm continued to ripple awhile longer, but it too eventually subsided into inactivity.

All was as it had been before, except that now, a brooding, heightened state of watchfulness pervaded the ether.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/Exordium-Tears-IX-Andrew-Weston/dp/0996428992

 

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Exordium-Tears-IX-Book-2-ebook/dp/B01AAFEU6O

 

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exordium-of-tears-andrew-p-weston/1123449634?ean=9780996428996

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe). Andrew also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

 

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for http://Astronaut.com  and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Publisher: The Perseid Press

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

Mrs. N Couldn’t Put Down Exordium of Tears by @WestonAndrew! #ScienceFiction #Books #SFF


IXExordium-Large

 

Title: The IX – Exordium of Tears

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

 

Book Blurb:

Fight or Die

That simple yet brutal philosophy is the tenet by which the refugees from Earth – including the fabled lost 9th Legion of Rome; the 5th Company, 2nd Mounted Cavalry Unit; and the Special Forces Anti-Terrorist Team – have been forced to live while the Horde menace existed. Believing that the threat is over, the survivors now yearn to settle down, start families, and reclaim the lives stolen from them.

But such aspirations might remain beyond their reach, for a shadow looms on the rose-tinted horizon of new beginnings.

The release of the re-genesis matrix has done much to foster a restoration of exuberance across Arden. Along with resurgence in floral and faunal diversity, comes the results of splicing the Ardenese and human genomes: transmutation; a metamorphosis of stunning magnitude that not only affects the living, but those still is stasis as well.

Recognizing the emergence of a new hybrid species, the Architect – the arcane AI construct tasked with the preservation of the Ardenese race – responds by unlocking previously hidden and inaccessible areas of the city. It also releases an archive of sealed state records.

Those secrets are pounced on and eagerly perused, whereupon a shocking discovery is made.

Prior to the fall, it was common knowledge amongst the Senatum – the highest levels of Arden’s government – that not all the Horde had joined in the rabid exodus toward home world, and the belief persisted that their enemy survived amongst the outer colonies.

Realizing the peril might still exist, the newly reformed administration elects to respond. Accessible resources are utilized, suitable candidates are chosen, and a flotilla of ships is sent out to secure, quarantine, and reclaim the outer colonies. A mammoth and hazardous undertaking. And nowhere more so than at the planet from where the outbreak was known to have originated – Exordium – for there, the ancient Horde are not only supremely evolved and highly organized, but are capable of a level of lethal sophistication, the likes of which has never been witnessed before.

It is into this kiln of incendiary potential that the cream of Arden’s fighting force is deployed.

Worlds are torn asunder, suns destroyed, and star systems obliterated. Yes, tragedy is forged anew, in a universe spanning conflict which proves once again that…

Death is only the beginning of the adventure.

 

Excerpt:

Wilson stirred. The deep, penetrating ache radiating through his shoulders and arms reminded him he was still tethered to the ceiling by chains. Sure enough, when he focused on them he could feel the telltale throb in his hands getting worse by the second.

 

A recurring problem, since he’d been bound so that his feet only just reached the flagstones. When exhaustion claimed him, his knees folded and his full weight pulled on his limbs, cutting off his circulation. Within minutes, the growing pain would tug him back to the misery of consciousness.

 

Although dry and free of decay, the cell stank of feces and urine. He opened his eyes to see a rare glimmer filtering through a small barred grill high in the door opposite him and illuminating the rest of the chamber. By its scant light Wilson could see Harper and Stark were still absent. Their manacles hung open, mocking him, foreboding.

 

His skull pounded as if a stage coach had been driven across his head. He took a few deep breaths, trying to clear his mind.

 

Screams from farther along the corridor outside dragged his sluggish consciousness back to his predicament. He straightened his legs and pain radiated through his joints, reminding him how badly his muscles had cramped. Before he could stop himself, he moaned aloud.

 

Goddamit!

 

Wilson bit his lip, trying to stifle the noise, but blood rushed to fill the capillaries of his fingers and caused him to groan even louder.

 

No! If they heard that they’ll know I’m awake and . . .

 

Too late.

 

A buzz issued from beyond the doorway. Ponderously heavy, the hatch cracked open. A wedge of light intruded, bathing him in light and making him squint.

 

Two forms flew through the air to land in a heap nearby. Wilson was horrified. His fellow prisoners had been only slightly older than he, yet the skeletal hands of decrepit old men now protruded limply from their ragged sleeves. Hollow eyes peered at him from blackened sockets. He glanced between them, their faces pleading for release with heartrending desperation. Moments later, both men gasped and flopped down onto the cold hard floor, where they lay still.

 

Harper! Stark! My God, what have they done to —?

 

An indistinct figure entered the cell, and Wilson cringed in horror. Roughly humanoid in shape, its pale sweating skin billowed and warped as if a ghost caged within was struggling to get free. When it undulated closer, Wilson was shocked to recognize this surging apparition was Joseph Mitchell, Second Company’s sergeant, and Houston’s ever-present minion. Or had been, once: whatever menaced Wilson wasn’t entirely human.

 

“Joe? What the hell happened to you?”

 

The scar on Mitchell’s cheek gave him a demonic air as he closed the gap between them.

 

Wilson could see that Mitchell’s eyes were black and wild; his hands opened and clenched repeatedly; he gasped to catch every breath.

 

“Are you all right, Joe?” Wilson was frantic to connect with anything that might still resemble camaraderie within the stricken soldier. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

“As a matter of fact, Lieutenant, there is.”

 

No!

 

Mitchell’s hand snaked out and grabbed Wilson by the hair, yanking him forward and lifting him clean off the floor, tearing open the scab from the wound on the back of his head in the process. Wilson whimpered in distress.

 

Jesus Christ! What is this freak going to do to me?

 

The next thing Wilson knew, something slammed against his ribs and fire erupted in his chest. He howled, long and hard.

 

“Stop now or die!”

 

The command was barely more than a rasping exhalation. Nonetheless, it had the desired effect, for Mitchell released his hold. Relief flooded Wilson’s system, only to be replaced by agony as the chains pulled taut, twisting his arms cruelly behind his back.

 

“I’ve told you before,” the voice continued, “he is off limits. How can we hope to fulfill our objective if we waste the advantage so recently gained?”

 

The former sergeant backed away and hissed in defiance.

 

“Don’t be stupid,” the unknown entity warned, “you’re nowhere near strong enough to challenge me. If I were you, I’d go help the others prepare for our departure. We have a narrow window of opportunity, and I can’t waste time in ill-disciplined charades.”

 

The mutated trooper moved toward the exit.

 

“But understand this. Ignore my orders again and you will be . . . removed. Now get out before I change my mind.”

 

Mitchell snarled in suppressed rage before fleeing the cell in a tumbling mass of shadows.

 

Wilson stared wide-eyed toward the doorway where his savior hovered.

 

It appeared to be studying him closely and chuckled quietly, a forced sound, devoid of warmth or humor. Darkness congealed around it in concentric waves, and Wilson was fascinated by the way its extremities flared and faded from sight in a confusing contest of refracted light and dense obscurity.

 

“How are you managing, my boy,” it crooned? “I do hope this current arrangement isn’t too restrictive?”

 

My boy?

 

Recognition coursed along Wilson’s spine. “Uncle James? Is that you?”

 

“It is. Or at least, it was. Now, I do believe I’m on my way to becoming someone else entirely; someone better, in fact.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Wilson was puzzled. “Anyone can see you’re ill, contaminated by something.” Rising panic clutched at his bowels, and he glanced toward his fallen comrades on the other side of the cell. “Are you going to try to infect me, like them and all the rest?”

 

“Oh no, no, no, dear boy. You’re far more valuable to me alive, healthy and intact.” Houston edged closer, a dreadful manifestation no longer a man. “Once you’ve served your purpose, however, I can’t honestly say what will happen to you, as I don’t think that will be up to me anymore.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/Exordium-Tears-IX-Andrew-Weston/dp/0996428992

 

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Exordium-Tears-IX-Book-2-ebook/dp/B01AAFEU6O

 

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exordium-of-tears-andrew-p-weston/1123449634?ean=9780996428996

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe). Andrew also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

 

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for http://Astronaut.com  and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

 

Worldbuilding – Keeping Things Real (Guest Post) by @WestonAndrew #writingtips #amwriting #SFF


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Worldbuilding – Keeping Things Real: A Guest Post by International Best-Selling Author Andrew Weston

One of my “pet things” when it comes to writing, is what many people now refer to as, worldbuilding, the process of constructing an imaginary framework in which to set your adventure. What’s a shame is the fact that sometimes, authors don’t put enough effort into creating a setting for their stories, something that contain sufficient coherent qualities such as history, geography, ecology and suchlike. Yet, this is a key task, especially for novelists like me who concentrate on science fiction and fantasy.

 

So, how do I do it?

 

I usually begin from the top down. What does that mean? It means I devise a general overview of the world in which I’m going to set my creation and then I start working inwards. Here’s a broad example:

 
I begin by considering…where is the world situated? Who are its inhabitants and what is their history? What level of technology do they possess? What geographical features does their planet have how does this affect things like climate and skin tone?

 
Once I’ve determined those facets, I start to increase smaller details. Personally, I sketch out several maps or ship schematics, and refine them as I go along. It gives me a sense of time and scale, especially if different groups of protagonists and antagonists clash. I also find this method allows me to build well-integrated societies, which in turn, reflects a superior level of quality and realism within the story itself.

 

 

I also like to approach my creation from the perspective of a game. Why? Well, since the world I create will provide the foundation for everything that takes place in it – (my concept – the characters – all the various threads and plots I want to weave together) – I want to make sure it’s as sound as possible, and affords the reader the possibility of enchantment as they try to recreate my vision in their own minds. Yes, I want them to lose themselves in my imaginary world, I want them to connect and bring it to life.

 
To do this, I even go so far as to construct actual languages, flora and fauna, behavioral and migratory patterns. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t drown the reader in detail, but I have it ready – at my beck and call, so to speak – so I can add the little touches here and there that makes the narrative sparkle.

 

 

I like to think of my stories as rough diamonds. To begin with, I’ve got an absolute gem of an idea. But it’s rough and lackluster. I need to examine it closely and buff it up with worldbuilding. Decide what to cut and where to spend time grinding and polishing. As it gets into the final stages, I make sure each facet gleams and that there’s a depth and perspective you won’t see until you’ve viewed all the angles.

 

 

One of the main ingredients in my imaginary worlds is the “keep it real” ethic. I’m fortunate to be a Master of Astronomy. So, when I devise my fictional worlds, I base futuristic technology on the very latest theoretical science. Think about what’s been in the news over the past year or so: teleportation was the stuff of pure science fiction not so long ago, but now, scientists can transport quantum packets of information through the ether with remarkable clarity and accuracy; we can levitate objects; have artificial air scrubbers that make the foulest environment breathable; there are engines under development that researchers are sure will punch us to Mars in a matter of weeks, not months.

 
All these things help me stretch the imagination that little bit further, so my readers can seriously consider…“Yes, the citizens of Arden – thousands of years in advance of our own – use everyday constructs that we are only just delving into. I can believe that.” Once you establish the connection, you’ve got your readers hooked…

 
You see? Keeping things real helps reel them in.

 

IXexordium-box-ad-300x250

 

Title: Exordium of Tears

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

 

Book Blurb:

Fight or die.

 

That simple yet brutal reality is the tenet by which the refugees from Earth – including the fabled lost 9th Legion of Rome; the 5th Company, 2nd Mounted Cavalry Unit; and the Special Forces Anti-Terrorist Team – were forced to live by while the Horde menace existed. Believing that the threat is over, the survivors now yearn to settle down, start families, and reclaim the lives stolen from them.

 

But such aspirations might remain beyond their reach, for a shadow looms on the rose-tinted horizon of new beginnings.

 

The release of the re-genesis matrix has done much to foster a restoration of exuberance across Arden. Along with a resurgence in floral and faunal diversity comes the results of splicing the Ardenese and human genomes: transmutation. A metamorphosis of stunning magnitude that not only affects the living, but those still is stasis as well.

 

Recognizing the emergence of a new hybrid species, the Architect – the arcane AI construct tasked with the preservation of the Ardenese race – responds by unlocking previously hidden and inaccessible areas of the city. It also releases an archive of sealed state secrets. Such revelations are eagerly perused, whereupon a shocking discovery is made.

 

Prior to the fall, it was common knowledge amongst the Senatum (the highest levels of Arden’s government) that not all the rabid Horde had joined in the rampage across the stars toward Arden.

 

Realizing that the peril still exists, the newly reformed administration elects to respond in earnest. Existing resources are utilized, suitable candidates are chosen, and a flotilla of ships is sent out to secure, quarantine, and reclaim the outer colonies.

 

A mammoth and hazardous undertaking. And nowhere more so than at the planet from where the outbreak was known to have originated – Exordium – for there, the ancient Horde are not only supremely evolved and highly organized, but are capable of a level of lethal sophistication, the likes of which has never been witnessed before.

 

It is into this kiln of incendiary potential that the cream of Arden’s fighting forces is deployed.

 

Worlds are torn asunder, suns destroyed, and star systems obliterated. Yes, tragedy is forged, in a universe spanning conflict which proves once again that…

 

Death is only the beginning of the adventure.

 

Excerpt:

The cavern’s vaulted interior resonated with silence. More than a hundred yards wide, it was a natural feature etched from living rock by the slow and patient attrition of running water over thousands of years. As time passed the wellsprings ran dry, and the chamber gradually drained. Once barren, the cavity lay undiscovered for millennia until explorers from a faraway world happened upon it during their initial surveys prior to colonization.

Recognizing its value, those adventurers adapted the character of the gallery to suit their own purposes, transposing its simple grandeur into a wonderland of startling complexity and delight.

Yet even this transformation had been a long, long time ago, and for many years now the facility remained abandoned.

Although subdued, illumination was still afforded by a swarm of ethereal holographic constructs. Of unknown purpose, these nevertheless had been rigged to serve the mechanism dominating the cavern’s center.

Here, a circular dais more than twenty yards across rose from the floor. Above it, a pair of gleaming U-shaped collars hung suspended in midair. Each measured over fifty feet in length and were positioned so that their open arms bowed toward each other. Within the expanse of their embrace, a tear challenged the authority of spacetime itself. Appearing like a DNA helix, it slowly revolved around its own axis, warping reality to its will. A gentle breeze flowed toward the rent from each of the cavern’s exits, betraying the presence of a subtle vacuum.

Blip — blip — blip!

Harsh in the silence, a warning tone blurted from one of the control stations closest to the feature. Two adjacent projectors flickered to life. As their emitters focused on a condensed shimmering fog of ionized gas, a series of complex equations appeared. The beams intensified, and a stream of translucent symbols scrolled down the misty page.

“Anomaly detected,” a voice announced. “Please stand by . . .”

Background generators kicked in. A steady whine signaled the buildup of impressive potential.

“Target recognized and locked. Quantum tunnel initialized. Temporal sheath established. Safety overrides engaged . . .”

An oscillating tone added deeper counterpoints to the coalescing energies. Underlying vibrations increased dramatically. Static sparks jumped out to scratch at the invisible plane lurking between the brackets. Lightning flashed, once, twice, then the void yawned wide and a tornado of warped sensibilities bloomed forth in a churning bore that somehow encompassed both pelagic and volcanic attributes.

“Gateway activated. Spectral sensors primed. Data retrieval will commence in three, two, one . . . Downloading.”

A surrounding halo of ancillary equipment lent its weight to the process, and by its light hitherto unnoticed features of the chamber stood revealed.

Unlike the rest of the control center, a large area along the western periphery was free of equipment. Desks, cabinets, and scanners occupying that zone had been smashed to pieces and thrown to one side to make room for the assortment of power cables trailing along the floor and into a wide pool of gelatinous goo.

The air above the mucus shivered gently, as if wallowing in the heat of a welcome zephyr. No sooner had the wormhole stabilized than the undulating curtain flared into a confusing amalgam of Orphic contradiction. Strontium-red passion vied against a well of midnight gloom. Magnesium-silver flares rushed to counter all-consuming darkness. And finally, neon-blue tendrils of scorching hot plasma contended the threat of everlasting obscurity. Such was the frenzy of the outburst that the atmosphere itself bristled, and nearby metallic objects clanged together as they became magnetized.

Hidden at the very edge of the visible spectrum, a nest of nightmare apparitions languished in hibernation. The commotion had disturbed their repose and triggered an instinctive reaction. Roused to the verge of consciousness, their glittering fangs snapped imaginary necks. Steaming talons twitched toward phantom aggressors. Huge great jaws opened, and piercing howls joined together in a cacophony of spine-tingling complaint. Several pairs of eyes fluttered open and in that instant, an overwhelming sense of barely suppressed rage and rabid hunger flooded the cavern with the promise of certain death.

“Cycle completed,” the same automated voice intoned.

The combined resonance of multiple stations shutting down droned through the gallery.

“Geodesic anchors retracted. Astrophasic tracking nodes disengaged. Gravity locks releasing in three, two, one . . . Mark.”

The humming swarm abruptly cut off.

“Returning to passive-scan mode. Info-packet prepared. End run . . . Execute.”

The hovering screens went blank, and the control room was thrown into darkness once more.

Deprived of the source of their agitation, the beasts’ emotions cooled, and they were soon lulled back toward slumber. The energized cloud hovering above the ectoplasm continued to ripple awhile longer, but it too eventually subsided into inactivity.

All was as it had been before, except that now, a brooding, heightened state of watchfulness pervaded the ether.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/Exordium-Tears-IX-Andrew-Weston/dp/0996428992

 

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Exordium-Tears-IX-Book-2-ebook/dp/B01AAFEU6O

 

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exordium-of-tears-andrew-p-weston/1123449634?ean=9780996428996

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe). Andrew also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

 

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for http://Astronaut.com  and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

 

 

The IX – Exordium of Tears by @WestonAndrew is a #ScienceFiction Gem #bookreview #mustread #SFF


IXExordium-Large

 

Title: The IX – Exordium of Tears

Author: Andrew P. Weston

Genre: Science Fiction

 

Book Blurb:

Fight or die.

 

That simple yet brutal reality is the tenet by which the refugees from Earth – including the fabled lost 9th Legion of Rome; the 5th Company, 2nd Mounted Cavalry Unit; and the Special Forces Anti-Terrorist Team – were forced to live by while the Horde menace existed. Believing that the threat is over, the survivors now yearn to settle down, start families, and reclaim the lives stolen from them.

 

But such aspirations might remain beyond their reach, for a shadow looms on the rose-tinted horizon of new beginnings.

 

The release of the re-genesis matrix has done much to foster a restoration of exuberance across Arden. Along with a resurgence in floral and faunal diversity comes the results of splicing the Ardenese and human genomes: transmutation. A metamorphosis of stunning magnitude that not only affects the living, but those still is stasis as well.

 

Recognizing the emergence of a new hybrid species, the Architect – the arcane AI construct tasked with the preservation of the Ardenese race – responds by unlocking previously hidden and inaccessible areas of the city. It also releases an archive of sealed state secrets. Such revelations are eagerly perused, whereupon a shocking discovery is made.

 

Prior to the fall, it was common knowledge amongst the Senatum (the highest levels of Arden’s government) that not all the rabid Horde had joined in the rampage across the stars toward Arden.

 

Realizing that the peril still exists, the newly reformed administration elects to respond in earnest. Existing resources are utilized, suitable candidates are chosen, and a flotilla of ships is sent out to secure, quarantine, and reclaim the outer colonies.

 

A mammoth and hazardous undertaking. And nowhere more so than at the planet from where the outbreak was known to have originated – Exordium – for there, the ancient Horde are not only supremely evolved and highly organized, but are capable of a level of lethal sophistication, the likes of which has never been witnessed before.

 

It is into this kiln of incendiary potential that the cream of Arden’s fighting forces is deployed.

 

Worlds are torn asunder, suns destroyed, and star systems obliterated. Yes, tragedy is forged, in a universe spanning conflict which proves once again that…

 

Death is only the beginning of the adventure.

 

My Review:

Death is only the beginning of the adventure. This is the complete premise of this book and from the first page until the last, I was entranced. I’m a huge science fiction fan and you throw in historical elements, I’m in reader heaven.

 

This sequel picks up where The IX (book one) left off. The threat of the Hoarde is gone (or so everyone on Arden believes) and you can feel the communal exhaling of breath. Things can go back to normal but like with anything, life is rarely peaceful. There’s always the next challenge, the next obstacle to overcome and the soldiers must be prepared for what’s to come. People will die, secrets will be revealed and everyone will be pushed to their limits. Just when victory is at hand, death will rear its ugly head and no one is safe.

 

It’s been a long time since I read such a wonderful epic science fiction book. Andrew P. Weston’s storytelling style reminds me of Neal Stephenson. Andrew takes the time to detail meticulously all the action, through multiple points of view, but only revealing what he wants the reader to know at the time. The plot progressed at a steady rate. There were several characters to keep track of but Andrew made sure the reader followed along without getting lost.

 

What truly made this one of the best science fiction books I’ve read in a long time was his world-building technique. His concept is original, the motives of the species are realistic, the planets and technology are believable, the conflict is easy to understand and the commonality of survival is thread throughout the book.

 

Exordium of Tears is a roller coaster ride of adventure and suspense. Not everyone survives and that only adds to the shocking conclusion. Yes, I gasped in disbelief! I can’t wait to read the next book in the series!

 

If you love science fiction and/or pulse-pounding fiction, this is a must-read! It’s no wonder Andrew P. Weston is an International Best-Selling Author.

 

Favorite Character:

There were so many intriguing characters it was hard for me to pick just one. But the one character I identified most with is Sam. What he has to overcome against insurmountable odds is beyond incredible. Yet when his back is up against the wall, he still manages to keep his sense of humor. I loved that!

 

Favorite Quote:

“Bloody hell,” he quipped, “who organized the Liberace convention?” ~ Sam

 

My Rating:  5+ stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon US http://www.amazon.com/Exordium-Tears-IX-Andrew-Weston/dp/0996428992

 

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Exordium-Tears-IX-Book-2-ebook/dp/B01AAFEU6O

 

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/exordium-of-tears-andrew-p-weston/1123449634?ean=9780996428996

 

Andrew Weston

 

Author Biography:

Andrew P. Weston is Royal Marine and Police veteran from the UK who now lives on the beautiful Greek island of Kos with his wife, Annette, and their growing family of rescue cats.

 

An astronomy and law graduate, he is the creator of the international number one bestsellers, The IX, and Hell Bound, (A novel forming part of Janet Morris’ critically acclaimed Heroes in Hell shared universe). Andrew also has the privilege of being a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, the British Fantasy Society and the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers.

 

When not writing, Andrew devotes some of his spare time to assisting NASA with two of their remote research projects, and writes educational articles for http://Astronaut.com  and Amazing Stories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.andrewpweston.com/

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/WestonAndrew

 

Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-P-Weston-Author/102335216581151?ref=hl

 

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/andrewweston/

 

Andrew P. Weston Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

The IX Blog: http://theix.blogspot.gr/

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N