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Guest Blog at Joyfully Jay, plus giveaway!

Hop on over to Joyfully Jay today, and through Sunday, to read my guest blog “Heavy Metal Lover” extolling the virtues of mecha and how it’s played a surprising role in my creative development.

For today’s WIP Wednesday, I offer an exclusive excerpt of “Body Option” that isn’t available anywhere else.


    For five years, Grant Badu has been part of a solid fighting team with the Gemini Suit called Trefoil Argent. Together, they fly and fight so effectively, their combat record so impressive, that they’ve become informally known as the Infallible Duo.

    When a case containing classified military innovations is stolen and shot down in the foothills of disputed border territory, Grant and Argent are tapped for its swift recovery. But the mission requires pilot Argent to take on the one cybernetic option he’s been avoiding, for reasons even Grant doesn’t know.


The heels of Grant’s boots, polished to mirror levels of shine, clicked sharply on the tiled surface as he strode up the hallway that led to the Pegasus Eyrie’s mission room. When the Gemini Suit program had been established, Crestovia’s Air Armed Forces—AAF to everyone—had created stations at strategic points across the country that had been dubbed ‘Eyries’ for the Suits they deployed. Each line, from Raptor to the latest Hawk, was named for birds of prey and the station designations had stuck. He had been summoned back to the Eyrie that morning with a message flagged highest priority. The southern border had been quiet lately, so of course something had come up on Grant’s furlough, because that was his luck. Icarus Eyrie was closer to the southern lines, but when something required a lightning strike and guaranteed success, the AAF always tapped the Infallible Duo.

He reached the mission room and paused on the threshold as always, tossing off a crisp salute and admiring the view, perched as it was over the flight deck that launched the Gemini Suits. Argent’s chirp of greeting was loud in his ear from his position on Grant’s shoulder.

“Captain Badu, please enter.” An older, white-haired man with a silvery moustache was present at the head of the table. A general, Grant noted his insignia with surprise. They were infrequently graced with the presence of someone that high in the ranks.

“And my partner, Trefoil Argent,” Grant said pointedly, gesturing to the silver-metallic bird of prey on his shoulder. The fact that Argent was attending the mission meeting in peripheral form, rather than flesh, was something that shouldn’t go without acknowledgment.

“And the immensely talented Trefoil Argent, of course,” Dr. Badger Prane was quick to add, in the manner of an introduction.

“Ah, yes,” the general said, clasping his hands and bending a stare on Argent, who bobbed his head in a preening motion though his pinions required maintenance rather than grooming. “The other half of our Infallible Duo.”

An auspicious greeting, Grant noted, wishing he could make the comment in aside to Argent, but he hadn’t mastered the skill of sub-vocalization, while Argent could make free with his remarks to Grant without others hearing. “Sir?”

“Please, be seated,” the general said. “I’m General Drake Barcek, I’ve been in weapons development for the past five years since receiving my latest star.”

Grant nodded, seating himself at the table and taking note of those present. Dr. Prane was one of the top minds in the Gemini Suit program, and made the rounds constantly to ensure that the pilots were well-treated and looked after. Across from him was Grant’s own commanding officer, Lieutenant General Jasinder Palova, looking stern. Her dark face shuttered in a considering squint and her uniformed arms were folded across her chest. Typically there was more support staff for a mission briefing; the lack of extra faces around their table had him wondering.

Must be secret weapons development, Argent remarked in his ear. Grant responded with the slightest dip of his chin to indicate agreement.

“A plane went down in the Cressian range this morning,” General Barcek said, lacing his fingers together and sending a formidable pale-blue gaze Grant’s way. “The plane was carrying proprietary technology obtained through espionage. Unfortunately for the Bah’zeth, but fortunately for us, they flew toward Bahazeth without the proper airspace access codes, and were shot down.”

One of Grant’s brows winched upward. “One of our own turned on us, and tried to make off with Crestovian military technology,” he summarized.

“In short.” A flicker of annoyance crossed General Barcek’s face. “This is bad for us, very bad. Our available data indicate the plane crashed in one of those cave-riddled areas. We need to send someone for retrieval, and fast.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Grant said, glancing at his colleagues and noting that Dr. Prane was grimacing and gnawing a knuckle. “That’s the kind of mission we can launch for, as soon as Trefoil Argent is prepped.” At the periphery of his vision, Lieutenant General Palova began to shake her head.

“It’s not that simple,” General Barcek said.

Of course it’s not, Argent said in his ear. Grant ignored him.

Dr. Prane left off gnawing his knuckle and sat forward in his chair, spine upright and eyes wide.

“It’s been brought to my attention, when I reviewed your specs for the mission, that Trefoil Argent does not have a body option,” General Barcek said. There was mild censure in his voice.

“I wasn’t aware that existing as a cybernetic suit required one,” Argent piped up, the fluting tones of his high tenor undercutting the saucy delivery that bordered insubordination. When dawning horror broke over Lieutenant General Palova’s face, he added a sharp, “Sir.”

“Not require, no,” General Barcek said slowly, pushing his fingers upward and steepling them, brows lowered as his eyes swiveled to pin Argent with a long stare. “Unusual. Most pilots your age, racking up hazard pay at the rate you have, can count a body option among the list of their peripherals to walk among us … enjoy the fullest life has to offer, as it were.”

“I quite like this peripheral, and my other cybernetic options. After all, a body option cannot fly.” Argent unfolded one silvery wing and extended it, birdlike head cocking as if to view it. “Sir.”

General Barcek grunted and shifted in his seat. “Couldn’t believe it when they told me,” he said, shaking his head. “A pilot of your considerable skill, long since financially solvent past the cost of cybernetic debt, and you don’t have a body option.”

Argent’s beak opened. Grant reached his hand up and pinched it shut.

“General Barcek, are we making conversation, or is there a point to this line of inquiry?” Grant asked. It was direct to the point of rudeness, and Lieutenant General Palova’s eyes narrowed in a very particular way that let him know he’d be getting his ears dismantled and whacked against his head later, but his question was worlds closer to social acceptability than anything Argent would have delivered.

“Yes.” General Barcek coughed into his fist, began to turn red, and re-settled in his chair, folding his hands beside a tablet display. “This mission will require Trefoil Argent to be assigned a body option.”

Grant removed his fingers in haste as Argent twisted his beak out from thumb and forefinger, head tilting in the way that meant he was going to nip, hard.

“It’s quite a steal for you,” General Barcek was saying. “Haven’t paid the money out for one, already, and now the AAF will foot the bill because we need you to have it for this mission. Works out quite well, when you look at it that way.”

“What if I don’t look at it that way?” Argent said flatly. “I’ve never seen the need for soft and squishy parts. I’m a pilot. I fly, I don’t—” He snapped his beak shut.

Grant huffed and thanked his own lucky star that Argent hadn’t completed that thought in front of the General. We’re fighter pilots, we fly and we fuck. Argent had never gone with the peripheral that would let him follow through on the second. He did plenty of the first, and claimed it was all he needed.

Grant went stone-faced to avoid betraying any expression to General Barcek, Dr. Prane or even their commanding officer. Dr. Prane and Lieutenant General Palova had questioned him repeatedly, right around the time of Argent’s yearly flight-readiness evaluations, on why Argent consistently held off on getting a body option. Grant’s loyalty sealed his lips. In truth, though, he didn’t know. It was one of the few things Argent had never confided in him, and Grant had too much stubborn pride to ask for something not freely given.

“Lieutenant Argent,” Lieutenant General Palova said sharply.

Argent tilted his beak in the air and shut up, but turned his head so one black eye-lens was fixed on those assembled at the table.

“This mission requires it,” General Barcek said, straightening his shoulders. He had a barrel chest that was halfway slid into a gut that strained the seams of his deep green military tunic.

“Any multi-legged cybernetic peripheral worth its weight–”

General Barcek spoke over him, raising his voice and increasing in volume until Argent fell silent again. “For those unfamiliar with the cave system of the Cressian range,” he said, modulating his volume when Argent ceased speaking, “it’s riddled with veins of lead and other heavy metals, those with insulating, signal-dampening effects.”

Grant’s jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. “Metal peripherals won’t do well there,” he re-phrased, to confirm his own understanding.

“Your metal peripherals will not do well there,” General Barcek repeated, fixing Argent with a gimlet stare. “The link for the body option is different, and stronger, based as it is on DNA rather than circuitry. You don’t uplink, you transfer.”

Argent’s metallic pinions rattled together as he shifted on Grant’s shoulder. Grant tried not to frown; existing through cybernetic peripherals as he did, Argent had no need to fidget. He was making his opinion known with that rattle.

“It’s a two-person mission on foot,” General Barcek continued. “Our coordinates can put you in the approximate location where the fighter plane was downed, but gunner and pilot will need to proceed into the caves to track down and retrieve that case.”

“It’s imperative that we deploy our best team immediately in order to recover that technology,” Lieutenant General Palova said, taking up the thread of the mission briefing. “Without question, Captain Badu, Lieutenant Argent, you are that team. Which brings us to this table, here and now.” She rapped her knuckles on the table’s surface.

“Thank you,” Grant said, when it became apparent no one else would speak, especially Argent who only rattled his pinions again. He smoothed a dark-skinned hand down the front of his uniform and tugged. He was still in fighting trim beneath his green tunic, though his days of working up from foot soldier to fighter pilot were long past. He had manned the weapons from Trefoil Argent’s cockpit for eight years once he’d promoted into the Gemini Suit project at twenty-four, and the suspension rig was enough effort that he had to keep up on regular workouts and stamina runs to remain fit for the job. “General. Lieutenant General. I’ll fly wherever Argent takes me, but accepting this mission comes down to his choice.”

It was Dr. Prane who spoke up, manner soft and conciliatory. “Argent?”

Argent replied with several strident clicks and caws more reminiscent of the bird of prey that his current form resembled—a shape he’d chosen for his primary off-duty cybernetic peripheral. At last, following a conclusive sharp click, he settled down, talons squeezing Grant’s shoulder until he grunted. “Not like I have much choice, sir. I guess I’m getting a body option.”


Release date: Wednesday, April 2nd.
Pre-order here.

Guest Blog: Male pregnancy…but not.

Greetings everyone–today we have a guest blog from Lexi Ander, author of the intriguing new debut Alpha Trine. It’s sci-fi, with a twist:

I first wanted to say thank you for having me here. I’m going to try and not bore you today.

When I set out to write Alpha Trine I was following a story prompt that directed there be male pregnancy without the use of technology and one of the main characters must be alien. Even though Alpha Trine is set in the far future on the other side of the universe I decided didn’t want the men to become pregnant.

I know! I know! Male pregnancy means a man somehow becomes pregnant but I wanted something different. So I started looking around at what was currently possible in earth’s environment without the use of technology. Chances are if it exists here, if there is life somewhere else, it could be possible there as well.

There are frogs that switch gender if the opposite sex isn’t available. Male seahorses carry the developing eggs. There are asexual creatures who can procreate by themselves. There are other creatures who have huge territories, when they come across a male they collect the sperm, and hold it in their body in a type of stasis until the creature is ready to procreate. Really, the wild kingdom has so many variations that I could have a supply of alien pregnancy scenarios if I wanted.

In some science fiction stories you can read about a Third Sex. Neither male nor female the third sex is required in some science fiction societies in order for a race to procreate. The perfect example is Octavia Butler’s Xenogenesis series. (Loved that series)

What about humans? Is there no way for there to be that kind of scenario? I said yes. With a genetic twist, I could see the hermaphrodite identity equal to the sci-fi third sex concept. In today’s reality, it breaks my heart that doctors and parents make a sexual identity decision for children who are born as hermaphrodites, instead of waiting for the child to grow into which ever identity they choose. I have read too many heart breaking stories so I chose to create a central species called the Fal’Amorics where being born a hermaphrodite is celebrated.

Ah! But I didn’t stop there. Dargon is a marsupial lion who shares a symbiotic relationship with Alpha. An interplanetary war stripped two planets of one primary sex. One planet became the homeworld of the females and the other belonged to the males, and they couldn’t stand each other. The Alpha-Zetamites stepped in after the war and offered their assistance by playing middlemen, dare I say the Third Sex, between the males and females of the species. This allowed for Dar Massaga’s, regardless of sex, to be able to procreate since both sexes have the marsupial pouches.

These three species allow for many different scenarios. Even as I wrap up Alpha’s, Dargon’s, and Zeus’s story in Striker, there can be several more different male pregnancy scenarios… but not.

Thank you for stopping by and a warm thank you to Tay for hosting me today. Before I leave with the blurb and an excerpt remember…

I’ll be giving away a paperback copy of Alpha at the end of this blog tour. Every comment on this and the other four posts will be another entry into the drawing. On September 28th I will email the winner at the end of the day, so remember to leave a comment with a way to contact you.

Blog tour schedule:
September 23rd – Babes In Boyland (
September 24th – Raining Men (
September 25th – Pants Off Reviews (
September 26th – World of Diversity Fiction (
September 27th – dreaminginfinity (

Alpha Trine

The sole survivor on a science vessel adrift in deep space, Zeus was adopted by the Emperor and Empress of the Mar’Sani, though he is both human and blind, and seen by most as unfit to join the royal family. Though they were able to repair his vision, Zeus does not trust his eyes and the nobles of his parents’ court refuse to ever trust a frail human.

Dargon Kal-Turak, along with his symbiote and lover Alpha, command one of the most dangerous ships in the stars. Narrowly escaping a trap, they dock in a space port to make repairs, but find that the Psionics hunting them are closing in fast. In desperation they kidnap the port Master Mechanic, unaware that the man they’ve brought on board is more than he seems, and will bring far more upheaval to their ship, their lives, and the stars than any of them could have imagined.



Canry was lost—no—taken.

Empress Ashari ignored her attendants. She knew they would report back to her mate, Emperor Valdor Vondorian, and she cared not. She was hollow inside, the pain turning to a numbness that ate at her core until there was nothing left for her to feel. She refused to pretend everything was normal because it was not. Nothing would ever be normal again because he was gone—stolen. Her youngest son, Canry, had disappeared in the Waters of Poseidon only two short months ago, and yet it seemed like yesterday.

Ashari slipped a hand under the cream-colored pillow and pulled out Canry’s little nightshirt. She had made the weave herself from the finest spyder silk. Ashari handled the material carefully. Her claws were ragged from nervous chewing, and she did not wish for the fine thread to catch on them. Her eyes burned as she tenderly fingered the colorful clothing. Her heart might have been hollow but her tears were rivers that fed the sea.

She wondered what she could have done differently. All Mar’Sani younglings were introduced to the Waters of Poseidon when they turned six lunar months. She and Valdor had been delighted Canry had quickly taken to the waters, more so than the twins or his sister, Shaneva. The youngling had been swimming, diving perfectly at her side and then slithering through the water, his black scales glistening in the sunshine.

She noticed the tips of the barbs that ran along his spine and down his tail were beginning to turn red, a sign of his royal blood. Canry splashed Ashari with his tail and dived into the water—never to surface again. Within moments everyone began searching for the royal youngling. Those who lived in the waters combed the depths and found nothing. Canry was simply gone—disappeared—no trace or body had been found. He had vanished.

Never in Mar’Sani history had a youngling or adult been lost in the Waters of Poseidon. For days Ashari refused to leave the shoreline of the great sea in hopes her son would find his way back home. She spent hours diving and swimming until she was overcome by exhaustion and the attendants pulled her ashore.

Finally, she accepted the fact that Canry would not be coming home. She took to her sick bed and there she stayed.

Every day she ate a little less. Her mate, Valdor, tried his best to console her, but there was little he could do. Poseidon had, for some unknown reason, taken her son, and in a few short years, he would claim their daughter as well.

Their now youngest child, Shaneva, had been showing signs of The Longing prior to Canry’s birth. One in every two thousand younglings born would return to the Waters of Poseidon. These children would eventually choose to reside in the waters over living on land. The reasons for The Longing were unknown, but neither were the children discouraged from the choice. As natural as The Longing was to the Mar’Sani people, Ashari could not help but wonder what she had done that Poseidon would lay claim to two of her four children.

A large Mar’Sani male filled the doorway. His black scales gleamed like polished rock. Dark yellow eyes narrowed at the sight of Ashari lying on the platform, his barbed tail swishing side to side. Resplendent in the imperial red and gold robes, the Emperor strode into the room. Ashari knew that look of determination on his handsome face and was unfazed. She tucked the outfit back under her pillow as Valdor sat on the edge of the low bed.

“Your attendants claim you are not hungry this morning.”

Valdor’s voice was deep, resonating throughout the room.

Ashari refrained from replying for there was nothing to say.

“They also relay you are too tired to rise.” Again, she responded with silence.

Without another world, Valdor unlaced his boots and set them aside before climbing onto the platform. He gently nudged her to rise up, and he slid under Ashari before pulling her down to his chest. He released a great sigh and stroked the smooth ridge of her forehead until her curiosity slowly surfaced.

“What are you doing?” Ashari softly inquired.

“He … Canry was my son too. I miss his laugh. I miss watching him sleep. I miss … Being the emperor requires that I put my personal sorrows aside to care for others, but I cannot keep doing so if I lose my mate as well. I, too, hurt and grieve. I am exhausted and food holds no appeal. So I will lie with my beloved for a time and keep her company in her sorrow.”

Ashari buried her face in the crook of Valdor’s neck, the scales pliant against her cheek. He needed her, Ashari reminded herself, and Valdor never gave up.

Guest Post and Giveaway: T. T. Kove

Good evening, readers! Tonight we have a guest post from the lovely T.T. Kove, who has a brand new release I think you’re going to want to check out! See what she has to say about Sakura Kiss, and stick with us for details about the giveaway at the end.


Armas wanted to start over in a new country, with new people, something he achieved by moving to Japan. In the beginning of the book, he is severely depressed and nothing really interest him, except for one thing: the cherry blossom trees.

The first thing that comes to mind when I think about Japan, except the hot, Asian men, is the cherry blossom trees. They’re beautiful with their pink flowers and I could very well go to Japan simply to watch them.

I have seen one such tree here in Norway, back in my hometown. It doesn’t bloom often, but when it does it is simply striking to look at. I think this trees are quite fascinating, and that has bled into Armas in this book. Watching the cherry blossom trees calms him down and gives him just a sliver of peace for a little while.

    *** THE BOOK ***

Sakura Kiss

Memories of a brutal attack have left Armas afraid—of people, of intimacy, of admitting his sexuality. But shortly after arriving in Tokyo on business, he ventures out for a drink … and wakes up in the morning in a strange hotel room after a night he can only vaguely remember, though all his memories are surprisingly sweet. In a panic he flees, determined to leave the whole night behind him and get back to a life that is comfortable, familiar. His plans are ruined when his one night stand proves to be the CEO of the company that has brought him to Tokyo, and a man determined to help Armas overcome the dark in which he’s living.

Buy at Less Than Three Press.

Takeo drove to the studio, taking every shortcut he could think of, but when he walked inside, Armas Takala was nowhere in sight. His flamboyant secretary was there though; her bright clothes practically lighting up the studio, the few others still there paled in comparison.
He walked over to her. “Hashimoto Aya-san,” he spoke.

“Huh?” She turned around with a curious expression on her face. “Sawada-sama!” She squeaked when she saw him, then covered her mouth with her hand and bent her head slightly. “I’m sorry. Good afternoon, sir. What can I help you with?”

“You can tell me where Armas Takala is. I need to speak with him.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but sensei already went home.” She looked up at him apologetically.

“To the hotel?” That was also in the file; the company were paying for it, after all. “I’ll go there then.”

“Oh, well, he might not be there.” She worried her lower lip thoughtfully. “He asked me about sakura trees today and which place was best for seeing them up close.”

“And where would that be?” Takeo stared at her.

“Shinjuku Park and Uedo Park,” she replied. “It sounded like he was going there. To one of those, that is.”

“Alright. Thank you for your help.”

Takeo exited the building again. He sighed when he settled into his car. Should he really go to the parks? Wouldn’t that make him some sort of desperate stalker or something? But on the other hand, he really needed to see Armas, to talk to him.

But which park? He wondered. His eyes locked on the clock on the dashboard, and that decided it for him. Shinjuku Park would be closed, besides, it cost money to get into that one, while Uedo Park had no entrance fee and was open at all hours.

    *** THE GIVEAWAY ***

I will be giving away one copy of Sakura Kiss to a lucky commenter. All you have to do is comment with a valid e-mail address and your preferred ebook format. The giveaway ends Sunday April 7th, and the winner will be chosen using The winner will have 48 hours to respond before another winner is chosen.

Guest Post and Giveaway: Casey K. Cox’s Finding King

Good morning readers! This morning, we have a guest post from Casey K. Cox discussing the exciting upcoming release, Finding King! I hope you enjoy this sneak peek at the space pirate novel that’s definitely on my list of books to check out.

Hello all, and thanks for tuning in to this stop on the Finding King blog tour. Finding King is the first installment in a new sci-fi trilogy The Breaker, published by Less Than Three Press. Each day sees a draw for a free copy of the book. I’m Casey K. Cox, and I’ll continue our look behind the scenes at CKC Muse HQ. Grab a coffee and settle in to this latest insight into The Breaker Series.

The crew of the Breaker started out as four young lads running away from a government-training program for unwanted kids. If you don’t have a future with your family on Rexalon, the government provides one for you. Jessie, Merrick, Taylor and Cooper, broke out of their training camp and stole an old cargo freighter that had been brought in to the workshop for spares. Over the years, the boys picked up stragglers around the quadrant and worked their way up stealing larger ships until the Breaker fell into their lap during a spot of R&R at a local Deport Station. With a military grade deep space starship, complete with two smaller cruisers, at their disposal the boys were able to expand their horizons and move out of the danger zone of recapture around the homeland territories. It wasn’t long before they discovered a small uninhabited planet they started using as a safe house and affectionately named the Rock.

In this excerpt we join the crew of the Breaker during a raid on a large freighter, The Den-Freight-Four…

Merrick led his men through the bowels of the newly acquired ship. It was clean and bright, a complete contrast to the Breaker. The corridors were smooth. A satin metallic sheen reflected the strip lights at ceiling and floor level. Even the air was sweet. Merrick could taste it through his supercharged skin sensors. The environment had been enriched with oxygen for the health of the passengers, and something else, hanging in the air. Something he couldn’t pin down, but it was familiar. The faintest trace of something his body recognized. The hairs on his arms and neck stood to attention.

“Stay vigilant.” He took a long, exaggerated breath trying to identify the scent, but there wasn’t enough to process. He grumbled under his breath. The last thing they wanted was trouble. “This has been too easy. I don’t like it.”

“What’s up, Captain? Got a sixth sense on trouble?”

“Don’t you smell it, Ace? Like we’ve been here before.”

“Got the heebie-jeebies, for sure. But this baby’s practically new.”

“And a bit too pretty for a freighter, wouldn’t you say?”

Ace shrugged, but Merrick wasn’t about to let down his guard. Captain Carlton and his late crew had already made that mistake. But Carlton had been at a disadvantage from the start. The youthful appearance and young voices belied the true age and experience of Merrick and his men. They were frequently underestimated.

“Merrick.” Cooper’s voice came over the comm, “She’s all clear, Captain. All crew accounted for.”

A smile quirked Merrick’s lips. No trouble after all. “Well done, Cooper. Head back to the Breaker and take the bridge. I’ll walk our new baby.”
“Any idea where we’re heading?”

“Depends on the cargo. Set a course for Deport Twelve for the moment. Keep an eye out for company.”

“Roger that.”

“Okay, lads. Take a corridor and let me know what you find.”

Merrick found the equipment store. It was a small office that branched out into racks of supplies and machinery. It was tidy and well organized, easy to find the inventory. Everything looked pristine. Merrick thought the Den-Freight could well be on her maiden voyage.

He made himself comfortable at the desk and methodically plodded through the catalogues, giving a whoop when he came across something that would fetch a good price. It felt good to fill his head with calculations, his time with work—anything to keep him from his own thoughts.

He paused to close his eyes and the memory slammed him in the face. Something about the place triggered it. It was almost tangible. Jessie laughing, holding a vidscreen over Cooper’s head making him jump for it. ‘Tell him to stop teasing, Merrick.’ They looked so young. Merrick smiled. A good memory.

Ace buzzed his comm and Merrick was startled out of his daydream. “Merrick, look at this.” A view of a second cargo hold came up on the vidscreen. Rows and rows of metal storage containers with small patches of light that looked like screens centered on the front panels lined the walls, casting an eerie green glow.

“Holy shit, is that what I think it is?” He sat forward too quickly, almost tipping the chair.

“Hell yes.”

Just what he needed. Unexpected company. He knew it’d been too easy. He tried to keep his voice even and pressed the comm at his ear. “Keen, we’re going to need you in cargo. Ace, send him directions.”

“On my way, Captain.”

Finding King (The Breaker #1) by Casey K. Cox is available for pre-order from
Find out more about my work on and at
Or email me at

Thanks for stopping by, Casey! Dear readers, comment here for a chance to win a copy of Finding King. Giveaway closes April 2, 2013!