Hey all, AK Nevermore back with you! This month I'm here to tell you that if you're a fan of spicy dystopian romance and haven't started reading the Price of Talent Series in Kindle Unlimited, now's a great time to start, because book 4, Overlord, is about to be released!
About the Series...
On an alternate earth, a cataclysm has altered a subset of the population. Talents are persecuted for their psychic and physical mutations, giving rise to two conflicting societies based upon maintaining genetic purity. And the Source, a shadowy corporate entity dependent upon the exploitation of captive Talents, is hunting them…
About the Book..
Chaos rules the city of Glynfyls.
And all Flynn Scot can do is watch. With the hill frozen in the shadow of the coming Incursion, and the commons giving into a bacchanal madness, the city’s chances of survival are dire. His hands tied by mandates, in order to do what he knows is right and give them a fighting chance, Flynn will have to risk everything by doing wrong.
Meanwhile, Kara can’t hide her declining health.
The Triam’s location remains elusive, and the window to get the treatment she needs is closing. Unwilling to give in, or idly await her fate, she hatches a daring plan to help save the city, even if it ends up destroying her politically.
Because Titus’s army is marching closer to Glynfyls, and they’re not alone.
With them comes a monster that threatens not only the city, but the entire Breaker hierarchy. As the world watches on tenterhooks, Flynn and Kara race against the clock to save their people, but there’s no guarantee they can save themselves.
Excerpt:
Mother’s consciousness slid from Victor’s, her jewel-encrusted fingers falling in a contemplative staccato against her abdomen. She lay on her chaise of tawny leather in the flickering torchlight, her sanctuary otherwise still. Beyond the arch opposite her dais, a gibbous moon filled a sky rife with stars. A distant surf crashed against the shores, and night creatures called to one another through balmy air perfumed with tropicals.
She pinched the stink of incendiaries from her nose.
Cal’s exodus of his Talents to the North was expected, though gating them directly there had been a surprise. Always such a showman. He must be quite pleased with himself. A smile ghosted across her lips, doubting he’d be as smug when he learned she’d laid plans to intercept the crafts transporting the rest of them North.
No, it was the arrival of that mercenary unit that concerned her. It was the tip of another hand at play. That would bear reflection, as would her plans for the remaining Sons. Victor and a handful of others had escaped, expending their gating stones in the process. Through the shard embedded in his brow, it had been but an afterthought to remove any suspicion they’d been borne of talent. She’d also ensured that the radiation they’d been exposed to wouldn’t kill them, though their continued existence would be less than comfortable. Deservedly so.
And once again, her time-table had been moved up.
Her hand raised to caress the amethyst shards at her brow as she sat, the small movements echoing through the vast stone chamber. Originally a temple to some long-forgotten deity, it was a fitting tableau. Shackled by the very power that would allow her to remake the world, this sprawling ramble of the sea’s washed-up bones was her wellspring. A smile curved her lips. Overlord in her own right.
Gravel crunched on the path outside, and two long shadows speared between the columns of polished coquina running the length of the room. The twins had been awaiting her summons.
They moved to the foot of the dais with a dancer’s grace, beautiful to watch, even their heart beats in sync. The charms in Elize’s braids chimed musically, Enoch’s heavier tread the beat. It had ever been so, save when Cal had come between them, and from those small cracks a fissure had grown.
Mother’s mind caressed their thoughts, amused at Enoch’s longing to wrap his fingers around her neck and squeeze. His startling blue eyes met hers, a montage of torments playing out for her behind them. He’d become inventive over the centuries. Pity he’d never get to put it into practice. Not on her, at least. She sent a jagged lance of her will through his skull.
He grimaced, hands clenching and sweat pebbling his brow. She lashed at his mind again, and his knees buckled. At his side, Elize licked her lips, murmuring something. His head whipped towards her, shoulders slumping. A trembling hand raised to caress the amethyst shard between his brows.
Mother’s smile became beatific. More than a direct link to their minds, the gemstone shards served as a clever refreshment device. Unsightly, perhaps, but effective. At his touch, pain was replaced by euphoria, any thoughts of rebellion erased.
“You will attend, Enoch,” Mother said. The satisfaction in her voice rasped against stone, sparking the dampened desire for vengeance at his core. Rogan had done her a favor in almost killing him. She never would’ve been able to slip her leash around Enoch’s neck otherwise. “Find the potentials for me.”
He tensed, and Elize put a hand on his arm, charms tinkling with the slight shake of her head. He blew out a breath and retrieved the dice from his pocket. Squatting, he cast them to the floor, his halos flaring amethyst. Once, and again. Three times.
He sat back on his heels, lips pursed. “Unchanged. If we stay the course…”
“But?”
“That tangent I warned you about.” His lush mouth was sour. “I can’t find the outcome, it ends in a void.” He spat the word like a curse.
“Is it of Cal’s making?”
“No.” He spat again. “It tastes like graveyard midden, other. I can’t explain it.”
Interesting. Mother sat back against her cushions. “Prepare to go north, it’s almost time to collect your charges.” She waved a hand, dismissing them, her consciousness riding with Enoch’s as they left…
“You need to give her less cause to watch us,” Elize said when they’d gotten outside.
Enoch snorted, pulling a crescent dagger from its sheath and flipping it around in his hand. His thoughts trembled in anticipation of visiting the stews in the lower city. Mother almost pitied the first young man he came across.
“Do you honestly think she’s not watching right now?” He glared at his sister, and Elize put her arms around his neck, kissing his lips chastely.
“It doesn’t matter. Our revenge draws nigh.”
“To what end?” He pulled from her embrace and jammed the knife back into his belt. “The potential for her to alter this reality has never wavered, but the fulfillment of our own desires is far less certain. I told you, there’s a point I see where probability stops, and that damned tangent—”
She drew him to her again. “What matter whose hand they die by, if we bring it about?”
“That’s all that matters!” He growled, ripping at the thick scar slicing across his throat.
Elize backhanded him, and he reeled from her. “Not anymore. Mother will reverse the Surge, and everything will be set right.”
“Mother.” He sneered, licking the blood from his lip. “Jane’s as batshit as her old man was, playing with things neither of them—” Elize swallowed a sob, and he narrowed his eyes. “You honestly think you’ll get Cal back. Why in God’s name—”
“I won’t need to get him back, because I hadn’t lost him yet!” She grabbed the blade from his belt and held beneath his jaw. “If you ruin this for me…”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, a hot, wet line running to drip from the ropey lesion below it. Elize held his gaze for a moment longer, then dropped the dagger and walked away.
Enoch didn’t move, watching her until she disappeared around the bend in the path, then bent to retrieve his dagger. He ran his thumb over the blade, his halos reflecting off its mirrored surface, finding the probability of Rogan’s death at his hand.
Mother felt the void as he ran up against it, and smiled.
Want more? Download the Breeder, the series prequel, for free here: https://dl.bookfunnel.com/91ffk852qo
and get your copy of Breaker here to start: https://books2read.com/BreakerOne
AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.
Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.
AK pays the bills writing a copious amount of copy, along with a column on SFF. She belongs to numerous industry organizations, volunteers for far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.
1 comment:
Congrats on your upcoming release, AK! Your Price of Talent series is awesome. Love the titles and covers. :)
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