Oberon lingers in the Atrium

Unlisted Passenger

Location: Atrium, DECK B

Oberon lingers in the Atrium, lying on soft undergrowth beneath a giant fern. He’s not fooled by this place, with its affectations of botany and organic intellectualism. He’s not sucked in by the resemblances to the world he once knew, the one he seeded before time was old enough to tell the tale. He remains unmoved by how the one who calls herself Tracy Nielsen looks just like the barbarian princess who bore his half-mortal offspring and how the one they call Nick Button speaks with the same intonation as the man who stood at the edge of a crumbling existence and cursed the name of a false idol, admitting at last that they could not save the world.

They’re just memories now, after all. Stories recalled by old gods adrift in space and time. And one day, this garden, this ship, and everything in it will be someone’s memory too. When all’s said and done, mortals are entropy embodied. Their world does not last. There’s no point to any of this.

But Oberon is here now, at any rate. And what else can he do but pass the time? This afternoon, he spends it spying on two figures in the garden—one human, one his wife.

Titania dallies again with the one called Olek—how she dotes on him.

It’s ridiculous, really, how she teases him with her body like a bird might tease a dog. Olek grasps her naked hips, overwhelmed by his biology which, though alien, is still no match for a creator of life. The silly cow even kept her crown on. Such conceit while the hapless mortal is utterly at her mercy. Is he even aware of how under her spell he is, Oberon wonders, or did the architects of these fragile creatures give them the illusion of free will?

Yet We Sleep, We Dream by JL Peridot

Love triangles get bent out of shape when restless gods come out to play.

Relationships are complicated enough when only humans are involved — something the crew of the starship Athenia know plenty about. These children of a changing climate are no strangers to conflicts of the heart. And it seems there's a lot of conflict going on, even out in space.

When an alien dust finds its way on board, the veil between realms begins to fray. Old gods of a long dead planet resume their own romantic bickering while ancient magic wreaks havoc across the ship. Grudges resurface, friends turn to enemies, unrequited love turns to passion — or does it? It's kinda hard to tell with everyone at each other's throats.

Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show; but wonder on, till truth make all things plain. Yet We Sleep, We Dream is a romantic space-fantasy inspired by Shakespeare's endearing hot mess, A Midsummer Night's Dream.

"I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was."

— Bottom, A Midsummer Night's Dream

Genre(s): Science fiction romance, science fantasy romance, space fantasy, new adult, Australian romance, futuristic romance

Content advisory: Strong language. Drug use. On-page sexual encounters. References to harassment and infertility. Depictions of perilous situations. Depictions of marital disharmony. Awkward social situations. Technical language.

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😍 Get it directly from my shop 😍

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JL Peridot writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. Visit jlperidot.com for the full catalogue of her work or subscribe to Dot Club for a collection of her tiny stories.

Dust is a danger to starships (especially if it’s magic)

Dust is a danger to starships. Pounding against the hull, particles merely microns thin can wear away shielding, eating protective layers down to nothing. Inside a ship, it creeps into everything, clogging mechanisms, messing with instruments, grinding the soft joints of spacesuits—the last line of defence between organic skin and cold, eternal nothingness.

But worst of all, it’s just plain annoying.

The heiress Mia Tan wipes her clammy hands on her coverall pants. An attractive face moves on a screen in her periphery, but she ignores it, turning instead to the video feed of the Atrium. Of the twenty-four other screens embedded in the bug-eyed wall, this is the only one she cares to see at this time of day. But there’s no one there, just plants and maintenance drones.

The movement again catches her eye—the loading bay screen. Damian Chandrasekhar leans towards the camera, checking his reflection in a nearby surface. He rakes a hand through his thick, styled hair and gives it a zhuzh to the left. What a peacock.

He brings his wristlet to his pouty lips and raises a manicured eyebrow at the lens. “Tick, tick, tick, Tan. The drones are on their way.”

“I said I’m coming, Chandy.” Mia buns her hair with a purple scrunchie and spits her stale gum in the bin. She wipes her hands again and fans her face. The subpar sanitation would bother her less if it wasn’t always so warm in the Bug Room. And if she wasn’t in a rush.

“Like, anytime soon?”

“Like if Nick’s arse-faced robot would stop touching my stuff, I’d be there already.”

He smirks. “Want me to head over? Maybe if I touch your stuff, it’d help you come a bit quicker.”

Yet We Sleep, We Dream by JL Peridot

Love triangles get bent out of shape when restless gods come out to play.

Relationships are complicated enough when only humans are involved — something the crew of the starship Athenia know plenty about. These children of a changing climate are no strangers to conflicts of the heart. And it seems there's a lot of conflict going on, even out in space.

When an alien dust finds its way on board, the veil between realms begins to fray. Old gods of a long dead planet resume their own romantic bickering while ancient magic wreaks havoc across the ship. Grudges resurface, friends turn to enemies, unrequited love turns to passion — or does it? It's kinda hard to tell with everyone at each other's throats.

Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show; but wonder on, till truth make all things plain. Yet We Sleep, We Dream is a romantic space-fantasy inspired by Shakespeare's endearing hot mess, A Midsummer Night's Dream.

“I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.” — Bottom, A Midsummer Night's Dream

✨ Get this book ✨

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JL Peridot writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. Visit jlperidot.com for the full catalogue of her work or subscribe to Dot Club for a collection of her tiny stories.

Alternate Dimension Days #Romance #ShortStory #FlashFiction #Love

 

Alternate Dimension Days #Romance #ShortStory #FlashFiction #Love

 When you’ve been under water for so long, coming up for air can feel strange. It takes some time for the senses to adjust to the sunlight. The reflection over the smooth surface looks different when we know what’s above the water and what’s below.

Alternate Dimension Days is a short love story about an alternate dimension that might have the light and hope that tech product developer, Jenna Kalen, needs after swimming against the current for so long.

There must have been a hidden portal to an alternate dimension somewhere on Irongate Road that Jenna Kalen had been accidentally travelling through some mornings. The portal ate time and spit her into an alternate dimension where she ended up late even though she’d left on time. Logic dictated that the lateness could be explained by traffic and construction on the roadways, except there were almost always traffic issues or construction detours. She’d been working at Delgado Star Tech for five years and up until the previous month, though she’d constantly been busy as hell with barely time to come up for air, things had been alright.

The last few weeks had been different. Unpredictable. Some days, she was really productive and she and the other members of the research team made a ton of progress. Other days, she ended up at work, slightly late, even though she’d been so sure she was running on time, and things seemed uncomfortably weird all day. Also strange was, on what she’d begun calling “time warp days”, she never really remembered parking her car in the deck, just running to the elevator, trying not to trip and fall on her ass. Things usually devolved from there. Obviously, she needed a week-long nap, followed by a vacation, followed by more sleep but her boss had turned down her vacation request. He’d given promises of a promotion to the team who developed the highest profiting product but the vague chance of a promotion carrot didn’t get her revved up on time warp days.

On those days, everything and everyone around her felt like a song being played slightly off key, so close to being fine that the mystery part of the harmony that was missing made her angry. Everyone seemed uncanny and gave her a sticky, skin crawling feeling, except that one guy who worked in the software development department. His hair was dark as night and his eyes were deep, ocean blue. His muscular forearms were covered in tattoos that reminded her of… something, maybe a scene from a movie or a story she’d once loved. She’d only seen him twice but each time, he’d looked at her as if he knew her. He hadn’t spoken either time, just nodded.

Maybe he had fallen through an alternate dimension portal, too. Maybe he could see how, on time warp days, the windows were foggy and blurred the out sight of the apple trees lining the street and hid the sunshine outside so that when evening came, the blur of darkness didn’t cut through any more of the windows than the sunlight had. Maybe he was sick of practically living in the Delgado Star building the way she was on time warp days. More likely, though, she probably reminded him of someone he used to know.

By the time her stomach started growling, Jenna decided she needed a break from working on the latest project. Her teammates objected heavily at the idea of stopping for lunch but she’d had enough— enough of racking her brain to help create products that she didn’t care about, enough of listening to her three teammates pick apart each other’s ideas without a scrap of empathy for one another, enough of their arrogant voices, and enough of the whole damn building.

The sexy, tattooed guy with the coal black hair stepped into the elevator with her.

“Hey, Jenna. It’s been a long time.”

The sound of his voice, smooth and deep, wasn’t the slightest bit off key, not the way everyone and everything sounded to her on alternate dimension days, but “Do I know you?”

“You used to. I stayed here for a while. Hoping you would find me again.”

Ah, hell. Was he an illusion? Was she so tired and off-center that she was imaging actual people? He took her hand. The man definitely felt solid and real. And… familiar.

When the doors opened, the sun hit just right, lighting up the world outside. She stepped outside into the light and broke the surface. The portal dissolved and the man with ocean-colored eyes asked if she was ready to leave.

She held tight to his hand and they swam to the shore.

 

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Sometimes you just have to show a favourite book some extra love - so here it is - The Last Dragon #medieval #fantasy #romance

What do dragons, knights and romance have in common? Grab a copy of multi-published author Daryl Devore’s medieval fantasy romance – The Last Dragon and discover the answer.

A sorcerer craving dominance merged with a dragon, the power overwhelmed him causing him to split into three dragons. Demora ruled thought, but was lost in time. Yidithe offered protection, shining like the light of the sun. Ayrradex craved chaos, revelling in destroying souls.

Many knights died, attempting to slay the devil beast. One knight, Prince Hawkyns, did not fear death. He’d lost everything. Away on a mission when Ayrradex attacked his father’s kingdom, Penrythe, Hawkyns returned to find his noble father – feeble and defeated. His wise mother – crazed. His beautiful wife and unborn child - dead. Only a pile of ashes remained for him to bury. He knelt before his King and vowed to slay the devil-beast or be slain.

Derry was born with powers that terrified her parents. They delivered her to a nunnery to be raised in secret. Jathe, a wise sorceress, discovered the young girl and trained her to one day use the secret hidden in her soul.

Legends spoken around campfires hinted the sole way to destroy Ayrradex was when the hearts of a knight and a golden dragon became one. But after a vicious battle with Ayrradex, the golden dragon was thought to be dead.

Can Prince Hawkyns’s bravery and Derry’s powers end the reign of the devil-beast’s terror?

Amazon - ebook, paper, hardcover

Amazon - Audio 

Audible - audio

iTunes

BookBub

Pinterest page for THE LAST DRAGON

GoodReads

Here is a shortened version of my favourite review for my favourite book. LOL
 

Here is the review for the audio version of The Last Dragon

 This was my first experience with Daryl Devore's work and it won't be my last. I enjoyed this story a lot. It is a creative and complex tale about a knight, Prince Hawkyns, and an abandoned girl, Derry, who must band together to defeat a dragon. The tale is filled with twists and turns that keep the action fast-paced and ongoing. I recommend this story to others who enjoy this genre. Joseph Collins' narration style grew on me. When he first started speaking, his slight accent gave the words a strange cadence. The longer I listened to him, the more I grew to appreciate and enjoy his narration.

 Me again - When I heard Joseph Collins' voice on the audition - I instantly knew that was the perfect voice for this book. He adjusted his voice for each character but the one he uses for Prince Hawkyns is perfect.

 And a snippet for you to enjoy.

A monk raced to the side of the abbot. “People at the gate. With torches and knives and… and… The monastery is attacked. They want the babe.” He clutched at his chest, trying to inhale air.

Hawkyns slipped his arm through the shield’s straps and gripped his weapon. Derry could sense the anger building in him. It wasn’t evil anger. It was the anger of a knight knowing he must right an injustice.

“Derry, stay back here. Take the horse and hide in the herbarium. I will get the child and return.”

The abbot stood in front of Hawkyns, barring his attack. “Ye cannot kill anyone within the walls of the abbey. This is a place of peace. Of God.”

Hawkyns flinched. “But if they kill yer brothers?”

The monk lowered his head. “'Tis God’s will.”

Hawkyns’ knuckles turn white from the grip on his sword. Frustrated anger filled his brow.

Father Jacobus raised his hand. “Do not fight me on this, my son. Swear, in the eyes of God, that ye will not kill within the walls of Baswich Abbey.”

Hawkyns knelt and placed the point of his sword on the ground and rested his forehead on the cross-shaped hilt. “I swear I will kill no one on abbey grounds.”

The abbot made the sign of the cross over him. “Go. Save the child.”

Hawkyns stood then raced around the hedge and disappeared.