Libby Doyle's Blog
March 29, 2023
My Novella is Live!
Hello all! You may remember that my action-packed novella
Outer-Rim Rescue
appeared in an anthology a while back called Summon the Stars. I was excited to be a part of that project. As is often the case with anthologies, the book has been withdrawn from publication so the authors can publish independently. Though it took some time, the novella is now live! I delayed the release because I was crazy busy earning a living, which, if I may be frank, is not something I do with my fiction. Ha! So, reward my labor of love by buying
Outer-Rim Rescue
, a romantic space adventure. Get thrills and spills and deep connections for only $1.99. ►
Universal Buy Link
◄ 
Sometimes the strong find each other in unlikely places. When ex-cop Jane Mwanda is hired by a powerful woman to retrieve her runaway daughter, she tracks the girl to a planet controlled by the notorious Rell Syndicate, where she’s promptly locked up by sexy henchman Tian Wei. The good news? Jane’s pretty sure the girl she’s been sent to rescue is in the same facility. The bad news? They’re both a hair’s breadth away from being sex-trafficked. Jane doesn’t know what to think when Tien Wei springs them, considering she’d written him off as scum despite her powerful attraction. She’ll need his help if she expects to keep the girl safe and escape the Outer Rim, where violence is currency and everyone is on the take. Problem is, she has no idea if she can trust him.
Sometimes the strong find each other in unlikely places. When ex-cop Jane Mwanda is hired by a powerful woman to retrieve her runaway daughter, she tracks the girl to a planet controlled by the notorious Rell Syndicate, where she’s promptly locked up by sexy henchman Tian Wei. The good news? Jane’s pretty sure the girl she’s been sent to rescue is in the same facility. The bad news? They’re both a hair’s breadth away from being sex-trafficked. Jane doesn’t know what to think when Tien Wei springs them, considering she’d written him off as scum despite her powerful attraction. She’ll need his help if she expects to keep the girl safe and escape the Outer Rim, where violence is currency and everyone is on the take. Problem is, she has no idea if she can trust him.
March 20, 2022
Music is Memory
Hello, dear readers! At long last, I have compiled the playlist for
Nuzan, The Covalent Series | Book Five.
As with my other playlists, the songs reflect the emotions of the characters, the plot, or both. I've included a snippet of the lyrics from each song to give you the flavor. While music is important throughout The Covalent Series , in this book it's central to the evolution of the emotionally confused Nuzan and to her efforts to connect with Barakiel.
I hope you enjoy my little collection. If you'd like to listen to them all, visit my YouTube channel . They'll play automatically but there will be ads. Happy listening!
1. Turn of the Century, Yes
For his lady, deep her illness--
Time has caught her
And will for all reasons take her.
2. My Love Will Not Change, Aubrie Sellers featuring Steve Earle
My love will not change.
My love will not change.
It just rolls like a river to the sea of your name.
3. More Human Than Human, White Zombie
Into a psychic war I tear my soul apart,
And I eat it some more.
More human than human.
4. How I Could Just Kill a Man, Cypress Hill
Here is somethin' you can't understand
(How I could just kill a man).
Time for some action, just a fraction of friction.
5. Off the Wagon, L7
I set a goal and it won't be hard.
Hit every bar on the boulevard.
Bad idea, yeah, you're probably right.
6. I Am Trying to Break Your Heart, Wilco
I always thought that if I held you tightly
You would always love me like you did back then.
Then I fell asleep and the city kept blinking.
7. Wildfire, Mandolin Orange
It should have been different, it could have been easy
But pride has a way of holding too firm to history.
Then it burns like wildfire.
8. Bad Ass Bitch, Lunachiks
Her six-pack stomach and eyes all of fire,
She'll crush you, make you blush, and set you on fire.
She's big and bad and she's not afraid to show it.
9. Mobile, Gentle Giant
There are no hours, there are no seasons,
Only the present, choice is the reason.
Up, up, time to fly.
10. Ain’t No Sunshine, Bill Withers
Wonder this time where she's gone,
Wonder if she's gone to stay.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
11. The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, The Pogues
They're tired old heroes from a forgotten war.
And the young people ask, “What are they marching for?”
And I ask myself the same question.
12. Sonata Concertata in A major for Violin and Guitar, Op. 61, Paganini (Shaham, Söllscher)
13. Psychotic Reaction, The Count Five
I feel so lonely night and day.
I can't get your love, I must stay away.
Well, I need you girl, by my side.
14. Feeling Good, Nina Simone
It's a new dawn.
It's a new day.
It's a new life.
15. She’s a Rainbow, The Rolling Stones
Coming, colors in the air,
Oh, everywhere,
She comes in colors.
November 14, 2021
Nuzan is Live!
The Covalent Series is complete.
Within the king's mind lies the key to giving the queen new life. If only he would accept it.
Barakiel tamed the elemental force of Destruction in all aspects but one. He could not save his mortal queen, his beloved Zan O’Gara.
Afraid that Barakiel will choose death rather than live without her, Pellus and the healers clone the queen, intending to awaken her with her memories intact. They fail. Barakiel treats the innocent new Zan like his child, even though—on some level—the clone remembers the queen’s love for her mate. Pellus attempts to convince the king that if he and Nuzan were to bond in Union, Zan O’Gara would be restored.
Steeped in grief, Barakiel rejects his old friend’s schemes.
Nuzan must find her own way. She must learn to cope with the queen’s memories, stirring deep within her.
https://books2read.com/Nuzan
Excerpt from Chapter 1
A WAIL ROSE above the hushed city, beginning low and building to a crescendo of pain not heard in the Covalent Realm since the Calamities had nearly destroyed it. From the North Terrace, Pellus watched the sound waves stretch and dissipate beneath the bursts of meteors striking the city’s protective barrier. He and Jeduthan had gone to the terrace hoping the beauty of the meteor shower would ease their hearts as the queen’s life faded away. Now, Pellus wished they’d remained in the Keep, close to the king.
“The queen is dead,” Pellus said. Though he’d known it was coming, his heart splintered to lose his friend and to witness Barakiel’s grief.
As the citizens of Covalent City realized the meaning of their king’s lament, they joined him in his keening. A steady drone of loss rose above the Great Plaza, flowed through the stone alleyways like cold mist, hung above the terraces, a sharp reminder of the cruelty of nature.
We have lost the queen.
The Sylvan Three had kept Zan O’Gara alive for more than a thousand phases. She died at the incredible age of one hundred and sixty-three earthly years. Deep wisdom had shined from her eyes, a glimpse of what humans could be if only they were granted more time. Though she’d been physically frail in her later years, Zan’s mind had been strong and her love for the king even stronger.
Barakiel will not wish to continue. We cannot lose them both. I pray the Sylvan Three and I can deliver the miracle we have planned.
“I fear the king will leave us,” Jeduthan said. Patterns of light from the meteor shower reflected on her face, so heavy were her tears. Pellus held his mate. They were lucky to be Covalent, sitting at the still center of all that existed. Time would never claim them.
“I was cruel to him once, about Zan’s mortality,” Pellus said. “We were quarreling. He insulted you, so I told him the love he shared with Zan would dry and crumble like so many autumn leaves. I am ashamed when I think of it.”
“Beloved, please be kind to yourself.” Jeduthan stroked his cheek. “We have lost a cherished ruler and few mean what they say in a quarrel.”
“But I did mean it. I did not want him to be with her. I anticipated this moment of loss. So foolish. As if Barakiel could have defeated Lucifer without her strength.” Pellus rubbed his face then wiped his wet hands on his crimson robes. “And part of me wishes Barakiel had listened to me. I would never have come to love Zan. I would not be suffering right now. Such self-indulgent weakness, when I was privileged to call her friend.”
“You are allowed your grief, Pellus.” Jeduthan drew him down to kiss him and press her forehead to his. “Please let it take you. Embrace it, because you will not have long to process this loss. The citizens will need their Council president. You must be strong. Even if we can persuade the king to stay with us, who knows how long he will mourn?”
“Too long, I am sure. The minions of Abraxos have waited through the phases for this turn. Even a human life extended by the Sylvan Three is the briefest of spans to the Covalent.”
“How long will you allow Barakiel to grieve before you and the Three unveil your grand experiment?”
“I do not know. Now that the time approaches, I worry we have made a mistake, we were so desperate not to lose our queen.”
“Whatever happens, remember Zan gave you her blessing. Just think. If it is possible for Union to be bestowed a second time, she will live again. She will love again.”
§§§
Pellus could see and feel the king’s vibrations as he approached the royal chambers, grief and pain manifesting as tangible force. To lessen the intensity of that force was beyond Pellus’ ability, but he wished he could soothe his friend.
And my own ragged heart.
He reached the golden door and listened. Nothing. An adept stood nearby, part of the rotation that held the queen’s body in stasis. She nodded to him.
Three turns had passed and the king had not emerged from the royal chambers where Zan had died. When anyone spoke to Barakiel through the door he bid them leave. Even Pellus. Even High Commander Remiel. They let him be, gave him time to manage his pain, but the citizens wanted to honor their queen. And they wanted their king to help them through this sorrowful time.
“Barakiel, it is Pellus. May I come in?” he asked through the Conduit.
“Go away.”
“I will not. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but please, think of the citizens. They loved the queen. Please allow them the Ceremony of Return.”
“Go away.”
With a sigh, Pellus passed through the door into a sizable chamber of buttercream marble hung with bright tapestries. No one else would dare enter without permission, so it was left to the king’s oldest friend. And perhaps more to the point, the president of the Covalent Council.
“You would violate my privacy? Now, of all times?” Barakiel sat beside Zan’s body where it lay among green and blue cushions. His eyes were closed and he held her hand, the stasis field running sparkles along his forearm.
“I am sorry, Barakiel, but the citizens need their king.”
“I know, my friend, I know.” He opened his eyes and made a slow turn toward Pellus.
“You think I am being self-indulgent, but this time is necessary. Violent grief tears at me. If you want me to be calm and strong for the Ceremony of Return, I need time. Let me stay with her, just a little while. Otherwise, I may not make it through the ceremony.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Do you even want them to witness my departure? Perhaps the ceremony would be best done in private—only you, myself, and my queen.”
“What do you mean, your departure?” Pellus had expected him to say something like this, but his voice grew high and strained nonetheless.
“Please do not act surprised, Pellus. My queen and I will meet the Stream together. You will take us, will you not? Zan would not want any other adept. She loved you very much. You will take us and we will fuse our energies with the Guardians and join the eternal duty to maintain the Balance of the cosmos. And somehow, perhaps, we will know each other.”
Barakiel didn’t cry, but the timbre of his voice was too much for Pellus, who leaned against the nearest tapestry until he got a grip on himself. He looked where he’d placed his hand, on a tapestry the king had given the queen for her birthday, its design thick with earthly birds. This made him feel worse. He walked unsteadily to Barakiel and sat beside him on the floor.
“Of course, to bear the queen’s body to the Stream will be one of the greatest honors of my life. But please, Barakiel, you cannot leave us. Do not compound this terrible grief. Do not plunge the Realm into chaos. You know the warriors you defeated in the conflict with Abraxos have only been biding their time.”
“I do not care, Pellus.”
“You do. I know it. You have merely lost sight of your love for the citizens in your cloud of grief.”
“You do not understand,” Barakiel said. “My grief is not a cloud, it is an ocean. Either I will drown, or I will cause the sea to rise until it swallows everything.” He dropped the queen’s hand and clenched his own into fists, staring off towards the balcony. “Even with my great power, I could not stop Destruction from claiming my bonded mate. I am angry, Pellus. So angry. You do not want me to free this emotion. It will destroy everything until nothing is left but the Void.” He laughed bitterly. “Little did my father know, he could have just left me alone to love my beautiful, courageous Zan and her death would do his job for him. Abraxos suspected as much, didn’t he?”
Barakiel gazed down at Zan’s lifeless body, his anger transformed into something even harder to witness.
“Remember all those phases ago when you told me I should not choose her? You were right about one thing—her death has destroyed me. Yet I would not give up a single pulse I spent with her for any prize.” He ran his fingers along her gray hair where it framed her pale face, serene in death. “You must understand, you of all Covalent. I cannot continue to exist as an individual without her.”
“Many Warriors of the Rising go on without their mates, Barakiel, even those who bond in Union. Time will ease your pain.”
“I am not just any Warrior of the Rising, now am I?” Barakiel glared at Pellus with a viciousness that made him gasp. “When my father lost his bonded mate he lost his mind as well, and became the most dangerous enemy the Realm had ever seen. Do you fancy another, even more powerful vessel of Destruction made mad with grief and loss? Let me go, and remember me fondly as the Covalent who restored peace and security thanks to his most perfect love.” The viciousness faded from his eyes, replaced by tears. He wiped them away, then took Zan’s hand once again, the sparkles of the stasis field dancing around him. “No, no,” he mumbled. “I did not want you to see this.” His body trembled with his crying.
Pellus wanted to embrace him but froze to see the waves of pain emanating from his body. Terrified by their intensity, he knew Barakiel was right. No telling what the consequences would be if he lost control.
He could warp the fabric of existence.
But they could save him, and save the Realm from conflict. They could help this warrior that he loved like a son. Pellus would go to the Sylvan Three. They would set their plan in motion.
“Ba— ” Pellus cleared his throat. “My king. I can see you need time and I understand why you feel you need to join the Guardians. I can see the terrible forces you hold in check.”
“Yes, you see, you know,” Barakiel said softly.
“I will come back in two turns,” Pellus continued. “Please think of the citizens. They love you and want to share your grief. Perhaps they can ease your heart, diffuse your anger.” When Barakiel did not respond, Pellus passed through the golden door away from the despondent king.
§§§
The stone path that led to the Sylvan Three’s chambers was lined with citizens in their white robes of mourning. They held candles of vigil and no doubt hoped for a glimpse of the legendary healers. Even if the king remained hidden, the Sylvan Three might appear and offer them balm for their grief. The citizens bowed to Pellus as he passed, and murmured condolences.
Soon enough the crystalline chambers filled his vision, their intricate layers reflecting the sapphire, onyx, and pearl of the Stream that raged overhead. Pellus was glad to leave the mourners behind.
I do not know what to say to them.
Once he entered the chambers, he waited for the Sylvan Three in their anteroom, gazing at the blue-agate fountain at its center. He had always found the fountain’s gurgle soothing, but now the water seemed to be choking back tears, like everyone in Covalent City. When the Three appeared in their white shifts, they ran to him and encircled him with their delicate arms, their faces hidden by their silky black hair.
“Adept, can you bear it? How can we bear it?” they asked in unison.
“We have no choice, healers.”
The Three tipped their chins to reveal luminous silver eyes glossy with tears. “We have no choice.”
The four of them stood wrapped around each other for so long that Manek, the head servant, came to ask if they would like some refreshment.
“Thank you, Manek,” the healers said. “We will. Please bring some root wine to the roof terrace. And tor distillate.”
“Yes, healers.” Manek bowed and left.
“Tor distillate? I’ve never known you to drink so strong a spirit, Three,” Pellus said as they ascended to the roof. “Looking to numb yourselves?”
“Looking for fortitude, Pellus. We know what you have come to discuss.”
“I do not like the sound of that remark.” He tested out a smile, to see if it would at all lighten the gloom that pressed in on them. The Stream did its part with its beauty, unsettling as it was. Since the queen had died, the furious band of electromagnetic energy twisted and jumped, its rich sapphire blue locked in a frenetic struggle with the black and pearl strands of the king’s consciousness. At least that’s what everyone believed the strands to be. Who knew? No one could touch the Stream lest they be absorbed by its fearsome power. That is what Barakiel wanted, for Pellus to bring him alongside the torrent and let it take him, along with the body of the queen.
Manek brought the drinks. He set up a small table and poured the garnet-colored root wine from its bottle into crystal goblets, but left the tor distillate in its decanter next to tiny gold cups. He departed with a nod. The Sylvan Three walked to the table. Simultaneously, they drained their wine. They each poured cups of tor and quickly downed them.
“I have never seen you like this, Three.”
“Such an event has never happened before, Pellus.” One healer held out a cup of tor. He drank it, then took the proffered goblet of wine. He sipped and squinted at them.
“I assume you are referring to the confluence of grief, worry that the king will leave us, and the clone.”
“Yes. The clone. We are agitated about the clone. Your message said it was time to reveal her to the king but things have not gone as we had hoped.”
“Oh no. What do you mean?” Now it was Pellus’ turn to drain his wine. He poured himself more.
“We wanted to give him his queen, young and strong as when he met her, and physically, we have succeeded. We improved upon the techniques we learned from the humans to produce a new Zan, glowing with vigor and beauty.”
“But,” Pellus said, quashing his impulse to tell them to get to the point by sticking his nose in his goblet.
“But,” the Three said, “we have not succeeded with the mental aspect.”
Pellus poured himself another cup of spirit, drank it back, and immediately felt nauseous. “She, uh, oh. We have not produced a mindless thing, have we?”
“No, no, nothing so dire,” said one healer.
“We always knew her mind would be a challenge,” Pellus said. “Please explain what you mean.”
The Three faced the tower of the Council Keep, gleaming ivory and gold in the twilight. “In all our phases of easing Zan’s deterioration, we bonded with her so often in the healing trance we became intimately familiar with her mind,” they said in unison. “We thought we understood the structure of her memories, the neural pathways that created them. Although much of what she gained from her Union with Barakiel remained a mystery to us, we could analyze the memories built through normal human processes. We thought that if we created these same pathways in this new Zan’s brain, she would essentially be Zan, as she was, with the same personality.” They turned back to Pellus, sipped their wine, and took a few long breaths.
“We wanted to bring this new Zan to a state where she would feel the same way to us in the healing trance as the true Zan, but it has not happened. As far as we can tell, she has not integrated the memories we attempted to recreate. She does not feel the same to us.”
“Are you sure the structure is exactly the same? The neural pathways?”
“Spatially, yes, it is the same, yet still different. If you were to describe the difference based on an adept’s knowledge, you would say the energy is not traveling with the same frequency through the new Zan’s brain. The vibrations are different, though the physical pathway is identical.”
Pellus set down his goblet and rubbed his face before he bent his head back to look at the stars directly overhead. “I fear we have been arrogant.”
“Yes, we have. A human experience is more than a map for electrical energy in the brain. It is a process of sensory input, unique in its nuances.”
“She cannot integrate the memories because her senses have told her nothing about being Zan. Not yet.”
“Precisely.”
“Balance help us,” Pellus whispered. “But surely the memory structures have some effect?”
“Yes, but they are more like impressions. I suspect they will be buried, almost subconscious. They may motivate her, generate likes and dislikes, but I do not think she will remember her identity.”
“She will not remember Barakiel?”
“On some level, she may. There is no predicting it.”
“Ah, Three, we must wake her and hope for the best. Barakiel plans to meet the Stream with the queen’s body. I do not think I can convince him otherwise.”
“No, you will not convince him.”
“We must give him a reason to live. We need him. And demon take him, he is my friend! I will not let him go.”
“Nor do we have any intention of losing him to grief. Let us wake her and prepare her to meet him. But we wonder, Pellus. Should we tell her who she is if she does not remember?” The Three placed their goblets on the small table and stared at Pellus as if they were trying to pull him into one of their telepathic communications. He wished he could bond with them in that way. He looked into their silver eyes, each in turn, as he rolled the question around in his mind.
“From the sense you got of her when you were in the healing trance, how much would she understand?”
“We do not know.”
“Then we should not tell her or use her name,” he said. “We must make sure she will not be overwhelmed or frightened. We must shield her from the citizens, and even the Council, until we know how she will react to consciousness.”
The healers nodded. “Are you ready?”
“I’m filled with dread, yet beyond eager. I have not been so confused in an age.”
They smiled at him indulgently then descended the stairs. Pellus followed.
I should have brought Jeduthan. She would have lent me strength.
In the back corner of a white marble chamber, the clone of the beloved and powerful Zanogara lay sleeping on a bed of violet light. Pellus had often checked on the clone as she grew, but with the queen’s decline and the king’s distress, it had been some time since he’d seen her. Now, to find her exactly as Zan was when he’d first met her left him speechless and trembling.
My grief makes me emotional, but she is so beautiful. Barakiel will stay. He must, if only to gaze on her as she was when he fell in love with her.
With their white dresses softly rustling, the Three positioned themselves in a semicircle around the clone’s head. One placed her fingers on her temples, while the others touched her shoulders. A moment later the clone stirred and opened her eyes. The Three crouched beside her.
“Welcome to awareness, our friend. We are the Sylvan Three. We think you know us.” They laid their delicate hands on the soft gray cloth that covered her. “We were with you, in your mind, as you came toward the surface, this place where you can see, hear, taste and feel.”
“Mothers,” the new Zan whispered.
The Three laughed, a tinkling, joyful sound. The new Zan’s deep blue eyes lit up to hear it. Pellus wanted to hug her but he hung back, trusting that the healers knew best. One of them took Zan’s hand and pulled her upright. The cover fell away, revealing the perfection of her naked upper half.
“Do you feel all right?” the Three asked.
“I, I do not know. How am I supposed to feel?”
“Like you want to leave your bed, stand up, and begin your life.”
The new Zan stared at them, her lips pursed and her eyes scrunched as she contemplated this information. Then she noticed Pellus, standing behind the Three.
“Who is this, mothers?”
“He is Pellus, a dear friend.”
“I do not know him.”
“You will. For now, just know that he is kind.”
Pellus stepped forward. He bowed and smiled as gently as he could. “I am happy to meet you, friend.”
“Huh, hello.” The new Zan smiled shyly at him, which made his heart flutter.
I am not myself in the face of these queer events.
His stare triggered something in the clone. She covered herself with her blanket. Pellus glanced at the Three. Surely, that was a good sign, an indication of normal human behavior inserted into the new Zan’s mind along with language. One healer went to a chest and pulled out a robe of the finest quality, in the same violet shade as the energy bed.
“Here you are. Clothing for you.” The Three stationed themselves in front of Pellus while the new Zan rose and dressed. Then they moved back next to him. He grew misty-eyed to see the clone standing there, so like the queen when she was young, with the ease of a healthy fine body.
“You look strong, friend. Do you feel strong?” the Three asked.
The clone stretched and arched her back then peered at the healers. “You call me friend, but are you not my mothers?”
“In a way. We are your creators, friends, and protectors. You may call us mothers if you wish.”
Pellus wished they hadn’t said that. To call them mothers might encourage the new Zan to relate to the world like a child. She seemed childlike enough as she looked quizzically at the healers then walked to the mirror hanging above the chest. She touched her lovely face, her deep black hair. “I do not know myself, mothers. Who am I?”
The Three lowered their eyes for a pulse or two. “We will teach you who you are,” they said. “We will begin by showing you around our home. You will learn through all your senses. Much better to learn in that way, is it not, Pellus?”
“Oh yes, Three. And you must be patient, friend. You have so many wonderful things to learn.”
Despite his misgivings, the new Zan’s sunny smile lifted Pellus’ spirits more than anything had in a long time.
Barakiel will be filled with joy to see her. He will. How could he react any other way?
Within the king's mind lies the key to giving the queen new life. If only he would accept it.
Barakiel tamed the elemental force of Destruction in all aspects but one. He could not save his mortal queen, his beloved Zan O’Gara.
Afraid that Barakiel will choose death rather than live without her, Pellus and the healers clone the queen, intending to awaken her with her memories intact. They fail. Barakiel treats the innocent new Zan like his child, even though—on some level—the clone remembers the queen’s love for her mate. Pellus attempts to convince the king that if he and Nuzan were to bond in Union, Zan O’Gara would be restored.
Steeped in grief, Barakiel rejects his old friend’s schemes.
Nuzan must find her own way. She must learn to cope with the queen’s memories, stirring deep within her.
https://books2read.com/Nuzan
Excerpt from Chapter 1
A WAIL ROSE above the hushed city, beginning low and building to a crescendo of pain not heard in the Covalent Realm since the Calamities had nearly destroyed it. From the North Terrace, Pellus watched the sound waves stretch and dissipate beneath the bursts of meteors striking the city’s protective barrier. He and Jeduthan had gone to the terrace hoping the beauty of the meteor shower would ease their hearts as the queen’s life faded away. Now, Pellus wished they’d remained in the Keep, close to the king.
“The queen is dead,” Pellus said. Though he’d known it was coming, his heart splintered to lose his friend and to witness Barakiel’s grief.
As the citizens of Covalent City realized the meaning of their king’s lament, they joined him in his keening. A steady drone of loss rose above the Great Plaza, flowed through the stone alleyways like cold mist, hung above the terraces, a sharp reminder of the cruelty of nature.
We have lost the queen.
The Sylvan Three had kept Zan O’Gara alive for more than a thousand phases. She died at the incredible age of one hundred and sixty-three earthly years. Deep wisdom had shined from her eyes, a glimpse of what humans could be if only they were granted more time. Though she’d been physically frail in her later years, Zan’s mind had been strong and her love for the king even stronger.
Barakiel will not wish to continue. We cannot lose them both. I pray the Sylvan Three and I can deliver the miracle we have planned.
“I fear the king will leave us,” Jeduthan said. Patterns of light from the meteor shower reflected on her face, so heavy were her tears. Pellus held his mate. They were lucky to be Covalent, sitting at the still center of all that existed. Time would never claim them.
“I was cruel to him once, about Zan’s mortality,” Pellus said. “We were quarreling. He insulted you, so I told him the love he shared with Zan would dry and crumble like so many autumn leaves. I am ashamed when I think of it.”
“Beloved, please be kind to yourself.” Jeduthan stroked his cheek. “We have lost a cherished ruler and few mean what they say in a quarrel.”
“But I did mean it. I did not want him to be with her. I anticipated this moment of loss. So foolish. As if Barakiel could have defeated Lucifer without her strength.” Pellus rubbed his face then wiped his wet hands on his crimson robes. “And part of me wishes Barakiel had listened to me. I would never have come to love Zan. I would not be suffering right now. Such self-indulgent weakness, when I was privileged to call her friend.”
“You are allowed your grief, Pellus.” Jeduthan drew him down to kiss him and press her forehead to his. “Please let it take you. Embrace it, because you will not have long to process this loss. The citizens will need their Council president. You must be strong. Even if we can persuade the king to stay with us, who knows how long he will mourn?”
“Too long, I am sure. The minions of Abraxos have waited through the phases for this turn. Even a human life extended by the Sylvan Three is the briefest of spans to the Covalent.”
“How long will you allow Barakiel to grieve before you and the Three unveil your grand experiment?”
“I do not know. Now that the time approaches, I worry we have made a mistake, we were so desperate not to lose our queen.”
“Whatever happens, remember Zan gave you her blessing. Just think. If it is possible for Union to be bestowed a second time, she will live again. She will love again.”
§§§
Pellus could see and feel the king’s vibrations as he approached the royal chambers, grief and pain manifesting as tangible force. To lessen the intensity of that force was beyond Pellus’ ability, but he wished he could soothe his friend.
And my own ragged heart.
He reached the golden door and listened. Nothing. An adept stood nearby, part of the rotation that held the queen’s body in stasis. She nodded to him.
Three turns had passed and the king had not emerged from the royal chambers where Zan had died. When anyone spoke to Barakiel through the door he bid them leave. Even Pellus. Even High Commander Remiel. They let him be, gave him time to manage his pain, but the citizens wanted to honor their queen. And they wanted their king to help them through this sorrowful time.
“Barakiel, it is Pellus. May I come in?” he asked through the Conduit.
“Go away.”
“I will not. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but please, think of the citizens. They loved the queen. Please allow them the Ceremony of Return.”
“Go away.”
With a sigh, Pellus passed through the door into a sizable chamber of buttercream marble hung with bright tapestries. No one else would dare enter without permission, so it was left to the king’s oldest friend. And perhaps more to the point, the president of the Covalent Council.
“You would violate my privacy? Now, of all times?” Barakiel sat beside Zan’s body where it lay among green and blue cushions. His eyes were closed and he held her hand, the stasis field running sparkles along his forearm.
“I am sorry, Barakiel, but the citizens need their king.”
“I know, my friend, I know.” He opened his eyes and made a slow turn toward Pellus.
“You think I am being self-indulgent, but this time is necessary. Violent grief tears at me. If you want me to be calm and strong for the Ceremony of Return, I need time. Let me stay with her, just a little while. Otherwise, I may not make it through the ceremony.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Do you even want them to witness my departure? Perhaps the ceremony would be best done in private—only you, myself, and my queen.”
“What do you mean, your departure?” Pellus had expected him to say something like this, but his voice grew high and strained nonetheless.
“Please do not act surprised, Pellus. My queen and I will meet the Stream together. You will take us, will you not? Zan would not want any other adept. She loved you very much. You will take us and we will fuse our energies with the Guardians and join the eternal duty to maintain the Balance of the cosmos. And somehow, perhaps, we will know each other.”
Barakiel didn’t cry, but the timbre of his voice was too much for Pellus, who leaned against the nearest tapestry until he got a grip on himself. He looked where he’d placed his hand, on a tapestry the king had given the queen for her birthday, its design thick with earthly birds. This made him feel worse. He walked unsteadily to Barakiel and sat beside him on the floor.
“Of course, to bear the queen’s body to the Stream will be one of the greatest honors of my life. But please, Barakiel, you cannot leave us. Do not compound this terrible grief. Do not plunge the Realm into chaos. You know the warriors you defeated in the conflict with Abraxos have only been biding their time.”
“I do not care, Pellus.”
“You do. I know it. You have merely lost sight of your love for the citizens in your cloud of grief.”
“You do not understand,” Barakiel said. “My grief is not a cloud, it is an ocean. Either I will drown, or I will cause the sea to rise until it swallows everything.” He dropped the queen’s hand and clenched his own into fists, staring off towards the balcony. “Even with my great power, I could not stop Destruction from claiming my bonded mate. I am angry, Pellus. So angry. You do not want me to free this emotion. It will destroy everything until nothing is left but the Void.” He laughed bitterly. “Little did my father know, he could have just left me alone to love my beautiful, courageous Zan and her death would do his job for him. Abraxos suspected as much, didn’t he?”
Barakiel gazed down at Zan’s lifeless body, his anger transformed into something even harder to witness.
“Remember all those phases ago when you told me I should not choose her? You were right about one thing—her death has destroyed me. Yet I would not give up a single pulse I spent with her for any prize.” He ran his fingers along her gray hair where it framed her pale face, serene in death. “You must understand, you of all Covalent. I cannot continue to exist as an individual without her.”
“Many Warriors of the Rising go on without their mates, Barakiel, even those who bond in Union. Time will ease your pain.”
“I am not just any Warrior of the Rising, now am I?” Barakiel glared at Pellus with a viciousness that made him gasp. “When my father lost his bonded mate he lost his mind as well, and became the most dangerous enemy the Realm had ever seen. Do you fancy another, even more powerful vessel of Destruction made mad with grief and loss? Let me go, and remember me fondly as the Covalent who restored peace and security thanks to his most perfect love.” The viciousness faded from his eyes, replaced by tears. He wiped them away, then took Zan’s hand once again, the sparkles of the stasis field dancing around him. “No, no,” he mumbled. “I did not want you to see this.” His body trembled with his crying.
Pellus wanted to embrace him but froze to see the waves of pain emanating from his body. Terrified by their intensity, he knew Barakiel was right. No telling what the consequences would be if he lost control.
He could warp the fabric of existence.
But they could save him, and save the Realm from conflict. They could help this warrior that he loved like a son. Pellus would go to the Sylvan Three. They would set their plan in motion.
“Ba— ” Pellus cleared his throat. “My king. I can see you need time and I understand why you feel you need to join the Guardians. I can see the terrible forces you hold in check.”
“Yes, you see, you know,” Barakiel said softly.
“I will come back in two turns,” Pellus continued. “Please think of the citizens. They love you and want to share your grief. Perhaps they can ease your heart, diffuse your anger.” When Barakiel did not respond, Pellus passed through the golden door away from the despondent king.
§§§
The stone path that led to the Sylvan Three’s chambers was lined with citizens in their white robes of mourning. They held candles of vigil and no doubt hoped for a glimpse of the legendary healers. Even if the king remained hidden, the Sylvan Three might appear and offer them balm for their grief. The citizens bowed to Pellus as he passed, and murmured condolences.
Soon enough the crystalline chambers filled his vision, their intricate layers reflecting the sapphire, onyx, and pearl of the Stream that raged overhead. Pellus was glad to leave the mourners behind.
I do not know what to say to them.
Once he entered the chambers, he waited for the Sylvan Three in their anteroom, gazing at the blue-agate fountain at its center. He had always found the fountain’s gurgle soothing, but now the water seemed to be choking back tears, like everyone in Covalent City. When the Three appeared in their white shifts, they ran to him and encircled him with their delicate arms, their faces hidden by their silky black hair.
“Adept, can you bear it? How can we bear it?” they asked in unison.
“We have no choice, healers.”
The Three tipped their chins to reveal luminous silver eyes glossy with tears. “We have no choice.”
The four of them stood wrapped around each other for so long that Manek, the head servant, came to ask if they would like some refreshment.
“Thank you, Manek,” the healers said. “We will. Please bring some root wine to the roof terrace. And tor distillate.”
“Yes, healers.” Manek bowed and left.
“Tor distillate? I’ve never known you to drink so strong a spirit, Three,” Pellus said as they ascended to the roof. “Looking to numb yourselves?”
“Looking for fortitude, Pellus. We know what you have come to discuss.”
“I do not like the sound of that remark.” He tested out a smile, to see if it would at all lighten the gloom that pressed in on them. The Stream did its part with its beauty, unsettling as it was. Since the queen had died, the furious band of electromagnetic energy twisted and jumped, its rich sapphire blue locked in a frenetic struggle with the black and pearl strands of the king’s consciousness. At least that’s what everyone believed the strands to be. Who knew? No one could touch the Stream lest they be absorbed by its fearsome power. That is what Barakiel wanted, for Pellus to bring him alongside the torrent and let it take him, along with the body of the queen.
Manek brought the drinks. He set up a small table and poured the garnet-colored root wine from its bottle into crystal goblets, but left the tor distillate in its decanter next to tiny gold cups. He departed with a nod. The Sylvan Three walked to the table. Simultaneously, they drained their wine. They each poured cups of tor and quickly downed them.
“I have never seen you like this, Three.”
“Such an event has never happened before, Pellus.” One healer held out a cup of tor. He drank it, then took the proffered goblet of wine. He sipped and squinted at them.
“I assume you are referring to the confluence of grief, worry that the king will leave us, and the clone.”
“Yes. The clone. We are agitated about the clone. Your message said it was time to reveal her to the king but things have not gone as we had hoped.”
“Oh no. What do you mean?” Now it was Pellus’ turn to drain his wine. He poured himself more.
“We wanted to give him his queen, young and strong as when he met her, and physically, we have succeeded. We improved upon the techniques we learned from the humans to produce a new Zan, glowing with vigor and beauty.”
“But,” Pellus said, quashing his impulse to tell them to get to the point by sticking his nose in his goblet.
“But,” the Three said, “we have not succeeded with the mental aspect.”
Pellus poured himself another cup of spirit, drank it back, and immediately felt nauseous. “She, uh, oh. We have not produced a mindless thing, have we?”
“No, no, nothing so dire,” said one healer.
“We always knew her mind would be a challenge,” Pellus said. “Please explain what you mean.”
The Three faced the tower of the Council Keep, gleaming ivory and gold in the twilight. “In all our phases of easing Zan’s deterioration, we bonded with her so often in the healing trance we became intimately familiar with her mind,” they said in unison. “We thought we understood the structure of her memories, the neural pathways that created them. Although much of what she gained from her Union with Barakiel remained a mystery to us, we could analyze the memories built through normal human processes. We thought that if we created these same pathways in this new Zan’s brain, she would essentially be Zan, as she was, with the same personality.” They turned back to Pellus, sipped their wine, and took a few long breaths.
“We wanted to bring this new Zan to a state where she would feel the same way to us in the healing trance as the true Zan, but it has not happened. As far as we can tell, she has not integrated the memories we attempted to recreate. She does not feel the same to us.”
“Are you sure the structure is exactly the same? The neural pathways?”
“Spatially, yes, it is the same, yet still different. If you were to describe the difference based on an adept’s knowledge, you would say the energy is not traveling with the same frequency through the new Zan’s brain. The vibrations are different, though the physical pathway is identical.”
Pellus set down his goblet and rubbed his face before he bent his head back to look at the stars directly overhead. “I fear we have been arrogant.”
“Yes, we have. A human experience is more than a map for electrical energy in the brain. It is a process of sensory input, unique in its nuances.”
“She cannot integrate the memories because her senses have told her nothing about being Zan. Not yet.”
“Precisely.”
“Balance help us,” Pellus whispered. “But surely the memory structures have some effect?”
“Yes, but they are more like impressions. I suspect they will be buried, almost subconscious. They may motivate her, generate likes and dislikes, but I do not think she will remember her identity.”
“She will not remember Barakiel?”
“On some level, she may. There is no predicting it.”
“Ah, Three, we must wake her and hope for the best. Barakiel plans to meet the Stream with the queen’s body. I do not think I can convince him otherwise.”
“No, you will not convince him.”
“We must give him a reason to live. We need him. And demon take him, he is my friend! I will not let him go.”
“Nor do we have any intention of losing him to grief. Let us wake her and prepare her to meet him. But we wonder, Pellus. Should we tell her who she is if she does not remember?” The Three placed their goblets on the small table and stared at Pellus as if they were trying to pull him into one of their telepathic communications. He wished he could bond with them in that way. He looked into their silver eyes, each in turn, as he rolled the question around in his mind.
“From the sense you got of her when you were in the healing trance, how much would she understand?”
“We do not know.”
“Then we should not tell her or use her name,” he said. “We must make sure she will not be overwhelmed or frightened. We must shield her from the citizens, and even the Council, until we know how she will react to consciousness.”
The healers nodded. “Are you ready?”
“I’m filled with dread, yet beyond eager. I have not been so confused in an age.”
They smiled at him indulgently then descended the stairs. Pellus followed.
I should have brought Jeduthan. She would have lent me strength.
In the back corner of a white marble chamber, the clone of the beloved and powerful Zanogara lay sleeping on a bed of violet light. Pellus had often checked on the clone as she grew, but with the queen’s decline and the king’s distress, it had been some time since he’d seen her. Now, to find her exactly as Zan was when he’d first met her left him speechless and trembling.
My grief makes me emotional, but she is so beautiful. Barakiel will stay. He must, if only to gaze on her as she was when he fell in love with her.
With their white dresses softly rustling, the Three positioned themselves in a semicircle around the clone’s head. One placed her fingers on her temples, while the others touched her shoulders. A moment later the clone stirred and opened her eyes. The Three crouched beside her.
“Welcome to awareness, our friend. We are the Sylvan Three. We think you know us.” They laid their delicate hands on the soft gray cloth that covered her. “We were with you, in your mind, as you came toward the surface, this place where you can see, hear, taste and feel.”
“Mothers,” the new Zan whispered.
The Three laughed, a tinkling, joyful sound. The new Zan’s deep blue eyes lit up to hear it. Pellus wanted to hug her but he hung back, trusting that the healers knew best. One of them took Zan’s hand and pulled her upright. The cover fell away, revealing the perfection of her naked upper half.
“Do you feel all right?” the Three asked.
“I, I do not know. How am I supposed to feel?”
“Like you want to leave your bed, stand up, and begin your life.”
The new Zan stared at them, her lips pursed and her eyes scrunched as she contemplated this information. Then she noticed Pellus, standing behind the Three.
“Who is this, mothers?”
“He is Pellus, a dear friend.”
“I do not know him.”
“You will. For now, just know that he is kind.”
Pellus stepped forward. He bowed and smiled as gently as he could. “I am happy to meet you, friend.”
“Huh, hello.” The new Zan smiled shyly at him, which made his heart flutter.
I am not myself in the face of these queer events.
His stare triggered something in the clone. She covered herself with her blanket. Pellus glanced at the Three. Surely, that was a good sign, an indication of normal human behavior inserted into the new Zan’s mind along with language. One healer went to a chest and pulled out a robe of the finest quality, in the same violet shade as the energy bed.
“Here you are. Clothing for you.” The Three stationed themselves in front of Pellus while the new Zan rose and dressed. Then they moved back next to him. He grew misty-eyed to see the clone standing there, so like the queen when she was young, with the ease of a healthy fine body.
“You look strong, friend. Do you feel strong?” the Three asked.
The clone stretched and arched her back then peered at the healers. “You call me friend, but are you not my mothers?”
“In a way. We are your creators, friends, and protectors. You may call us mothers if you wish.”
Pellus wished they hadn’t said that. To call them mothers might encourage the new Zan to relate to the world like a child. She seemed childlike enough as she looked quizzically at the healers then walked to the mirror hanging above the chest. She touched her lovely face, her deep black hair. “I do not know myself, mothers. Who am I?”
The Three lowered their eyes for a pulse or two. “We will teach you who you are,” they said. “We will begin by showing you around our home. You will learn through all your senses. Much better to learn in that way, is it not, Pellus?”
“Oh yes, Three. And you must be patient, friend. You have so many wonderful things to learn.”
Despite his misgivings, the new Zan’s sunny smile lifted Pellus’ spirits more than anything had in a long time.
Barakiel will be filled with joy to see her. He will. How could he react any other way?
November 11, 2021
Nuzan is live!
The Covalent Series is complete. Within the king’s mind lies the key to giving the queen new life. If only he would accept it.
Barakiel tamed the elemental force of Destruction in all aspects but one. He could not save his mortal queen, his beloved Zan O’Gara.
Afraid that Barakiel will choose death rather than live without her, Pellus and the healers clone the queen, intending to awaken her with her memories intact. They fail. Barakiel treats the innocent new Zan like his child, even though—on some level—the clone remembers the queen’s love for her mate. Pellus attempts to convince the king that if he and Nuzan were to bond in Union, Zan O’Gara would be restored.
Steeped in grief, Barakiel rejects his old friend’s schemes.
Nuzan must find her own way. She must learn to cope with the queen’s memories, stirring deep inside her.
Universal Buy Link
Excerpt from Chapter 1 A WAIL ROSE above the hushed city, beginning low and building to a crescendo of pain not heard in the Covalent Realm since the Calamities had nearly destroyed it. From the North Terrace, Pellus watched the sound waves stretch and dissipate beneath the bursts of meteors striking the city’s protective barrier. He and Jeduthan had gone to the terrace hoping the beauty of the meteor shower would ease their hearts as the queen’s life faded away. Now, Pellus wished they’d remained in the Keep, close to the king.
“The queen is dead,” Pellus said. Though he’d known it was coming, his heart splintered to lose his friend and to witness Barakiel’s grief.
As the citizens of Covalent City realized the meaning of their king’s lament, they joined him in his keening. A steady drone of loss rose above the Great Plaza, flowed through the stone alleyways like cold mist, hung above the terraces, a sharp reminder of the cruelty of nature.
We have lost the queen.
The Sylvan Three had kept Zan O’Gara alive for more than a thousand phases. She died at the incredible age of one hundred and sixty-three earthly years. Deep wisdom had shined from her eyes, a glimpse of what humans could be if only they were granted more time. Though she’d been physically frail in her later years, Zan’s mind had been strong and her love for the king even stronger.
Barakiel will not wish to continue. We cannot lose them both. I pray the Sylvan Three and I can deliver the miracle we have planned.
“I fear the king will leave us,” Jeduthan said. Patterns of light from the meteor shower reflected on her face, so heavy were her tears. Pellus held his mate. They were lucky to be Covalent, sitting at the still center of all that existed. Time would never claim them.
“I was cruel to him once, about Zan’s mortality,” Pellus said. “We were quarreling. He insulted you, so I told him the love he shared with Zan would dry and crumble like so many autumn leaves. I am ashamed when I think of it.”
“Beloved, please be kind to yourself.” Jeduthan stroked his cheek. “We have lost a cherished ruler and few mean what they say in a quarrel.”
“But I did mean it. I did not want him to be with her. I anticipated this moment of loss. So foolish. As if Barakiel could have defeated Lucifer without her strength.” Pellus rubbed his face then wiped his wet hands on his crimson robes. “And part of me wishes Barakiel had listened to me. I would never have come to love Zan. I would not be suffering right now. Such self-indulgent weakness, when I was privileged to call her friend.”
“You are allowed your grief, Pellus.” Jeduthan drew him down to kiss him and press her forehead to his. “Please let it take you. Embrace it, because you will not have long to process this loss. The citizens will need their Council president. You must be strong. Even if we can persuade the king to stay with us, who knows how long he will mourn?”
“Too long, I am sure. The minions of Abraxos have waited through the phases for this turn. Even a human life extended by the Sylvan Three is the briefest of spans to the Covalent.”
“How long will you allow Barakiel to grieve before you and the Three unveil your grand experiment?”
“I do not know. Now that the time approaches, I worry we have made a mistake, we were so desperate not to lose our queen.”
“Whatever happens, remember Zan gave you her blessing. Just think. If it is possible for Union to be bestowed a second time, she will live again. She will love again.”
§§§
Pellus could see and feel the king’s vibrations as he approached the royal chambers, grief and pain manifesting as tangible force. To lessen the intensity of that force was beyond Pellus’ ability, but he wished he could soothe his friend.
And my own ragged heart.
He reached the golden door and listened. Nothing. An adept stood nearby, part of the rotation that held the queen’s body in stasis. She nodded to him.
Three turns had passed and the king had not emerged from the royal chambers where Zan had died. When anyone spoke to Barakiel through the door he bid them leave. Even Pellus. Even High Commander Remiel. They let him be, gave him time to manage his pain, but the citizens wanted to honor their queen. And they wanted their king to help them through this sorrowful time.
“Barakiel, it is Pellus. May I come in?” he asked through the Conduit.
“Go away.”
“I will not. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but please, think of the citizens. They loved the queen. Please allow them the Ceremony of Return.”
“Go away.”
With a sigh, Pellus passed through the door into a sizable chamber of buttercream marble hung with bright tapestries. No one else would dare enter without permission, so it was left to the king’s oldest friend. And perhaps more to the point, the president of the Covalent Council.
“You would violate my privacy? Now, of all times?” Barakiel sat beside Zan’s body where it lay among green and blue cushions. His eyes were closed and he held her hand, the stasis field running sparkles along his forearm.
“I am sorry, Barakiel, but the citizens need their king.”
“I know, my friend, I know.” He opened his eyes and made a slow turn toward Pellus.
“You think I am being self-indulgent, but this time is necessary. Violent grief tears at me. If you want me to be calm and strong for the Ceremony of Return, I need time. Let me stay with her, just a little while. Otherwise, I may not make it through the ceremony.” He grimaced and shook his head. “Do you even want them to witness my departure? Perhaps the ceremony would be best done in private—only you, myself, and my queen.”
“What do you mean, your departure?” Pellus had expected him to say something like this, but his voice grew high and strained nonetheless.
“Please do not act surprised, Pellus. My queen and I will meet the Stream together. You will take us, will you not? Zan would not want any other adept. She loved you very much. You will take us and we will fuse our energies with the Guardians and join the eternal duty to maintain the Balance of the cosmos. And somehow, perhaps, we will know each other.”
Barakiel didn’t cry, but the timbre of his voice was too much for Pellus, who leaned against the nearest tapestry until he got a grip on himself. He looked where he’d placed his hand, on a tapestry the king had given the queen for her birthday, its design thick with earthly birds. This made him feel worse. He walked unsteadily to Barakiel and sat beside him on the floor.
“Of course, to bear the queen’s body to the Stream will be one of the greatest honors of my life. But please, Barakiel, you cannot leave us. Do not compound this terrible grief. Do not plunge the Realm into chaos. You know the warriors you defeated in the conflict with Abraxos have only been biding their time.”
“I do not care, Pellus.”
“You do. I know it. You have merely lost sight of your love for the citizens in your cloud of grief.”
“You do not understand,” Barakiel said. “My grief is not a cloud, it is an ocean. Either I will drown, or I will cause the sea to rise until it swallows everything.” He dropped the queen’s hand and clenched his own into fists, staring off towards the balcony. “Even with my great power, I could not stop Destruction from claiming my bonded mate. I am angry, Pellus. So angry. You do not want me to free this emotion. It will destroy everything until nothing is left but the Void.” He laughed bitterly. “Little did my father know, he could have just left me alone to love my beautiful, courageous Zan and her death would do his job for him. Abraxos suspected as much, didn’t he?”
Barakiel gazed down at Zan’s lifeless body, his anger transformed into something even harder to witness.
“Remember all those phases ago when you told me I should not choose her? You were right about one thing—her death has destroyed me. Yet I would not give up a single pulse I spent with her for any prize.” He ran his fingers along her gray hair where it framed her pale face, serene in death. “You must understand, you of all Covalent. I cannot continue to exist as an individual without her.”
“Many Warriors of the Rising go on without their mates, Barakiel, even those who bond in Union. Time will ease your pain.”
“I am not just any Warrior of the Rising, now am I?” Barakiel glared at Pellus with a viciousness that made him gasp. “When my father lost his bonded mate he lost his mind as well, and became the most dangerous enemy the Realm had ever seen. Do you fancy another, even more powerful vessel of Destruction made mad with grief and loss? Let me go, and remember me fondly as the Covalent who restored peace and security thanks to his most perfect love.” The viciousness faded from his eyes, replaced by tears. He wiped them away, then took Zan’s hand once again, the sparkles of the stasis field dancing around him. “No, no,” he mumbled. “I did not want you to see this.” His body trembled with his crying.
Pellus wanted to embrace him but froze to see the waves of pain emanating from his body. Terrified by their intensity, he knew Barakiel was right. No telling what the consequences would be if he lost control.
He could warp the fabric of existence.
But they could save him, and save the Realm from conflict. They could help this warrior that he loved like a son. Pellus would go to the Sylvan Three. They would set their plan in motion.
“Ba— ” Pellus cleared his throat. “My king. I can see you need time and I understand why you feel you need to join the Guardians. I can see the terrible forces you hold in check.”
“Yes, you see, you know,” Barakiel said softly.
“I will come back in two turns,” Pellus continued. “Please think of the citizens. They love you and want to share your grief. Perhaps they can ease your heart, diffuse your anger.” When Barakiel did not respond, Pellus passed through the golden door away from the despondent king.
§§§
The stone path that led to the Sylvan Three’s chambers was lined with citizens in their white robes of mourning. They held candles of vigil and no doubt hoped for a glimpse of the legendary healers. Even if the king remained hidden, the Sylvan Three might appear and offer them balm for their grief. The citizens bowed to Pellus as he passed, and murmured condolences.
Soon enough the crystalline chambers filled his vision, their intricate layers reflecting the sapphire, onyx, and pearl of the Stream that raged overhead. Pellus was glad to leave the mourners behind.
I do not know what to say to them.
Once he entered the chambers, he waited for the Sylvan Three in their anteroom, gazing at the blue-agate fountain at its center. He had always found the fountain’s gurgle soothing, but now the water seemed to be choking back tears, like everyone in Covalent City. When the Three appeared in their white shifts, they ran to him and encircled him with their delicate arms, their faces hidden by their silky black hair.
“Adept, can you bear it? How can we bear it?” they asked in unison.
“We have no choice, healers.”
The Three tipped their chins to reveal luminous silver eyes glossy with tears. “We have no choice.”
The four of them stood wrapped around each other for so long that Manek, the head servant, came to ask if they would like some refreshment.
“Thank you, Manek,” the healers said. “We will. Please bring some root wine to the roof terrace. And tor distillate.”
“Yes, healers.” Manek bowed and left.
“Tor distillate? I’ve never known you to drink so strong a spirit, Three,” Pellus said as they ascended to the roof. “Looking to numb yourselves?”
“Looking for fortitude, Pellus. We know what you have come to discuss.”
“I do not like the sound of that remark.” He tested out a smile, to see if it would at all lighten the gloom that pressed in on them. The Stream did its part with its beauty, unsettling as it was. Since the queen had died, the furious band of electromagnetic energy twisted and jumped, its rich sapphire blue locked in a frenetic struggle with the black and pearl strands of the king’s consciousness. At least that’s what everyone believed the strands to be. Who knew? No one could touch the Stream lest they be absorbed by its fearsome power. That is what Barakiel wanted, for Pellus to bring him alongside the torrent and let it take him, along with the body of the queen.
Manek brought the drinks. He set up a small table and poured the garnet-colored root wine from its bottle into crystal goblets, but left the tor distillate in its decanter next to tiny gold cups. He departed with a nod. The Sylvan Three walked to the table. Simultaneously, they drained their wine. They each poured cups of tor and quickly downed them.
“I have never seen you like this, Three.”
“Such an event has never happened before, Pellus.” One healer held out a cup of tor. He drank it, then took the proffered goblet of wine. He sipped and squinted at them.
“I assume you are referring to the confluence of grief, worry that the king will leave us, and the clone.”
“Yes. The clone. We are agitated about the clone. Your message said it was time to reveal her to the king but things have not gone as we had hoped.”
“Oh no. What do you mean?” Now it was Pellus’ turn to drain his wine. He poured himself more.
“We wanted to give him his queen, young and strong as when he met her, and physically, we have succeeded. We improved upon the techniques we learned from the humans to produce a new Zan, glowing with vigor and beauty.”
“But,” Pellus said, quashing his impulse to tell them to get to the point by sticking his nose in his goblet.
“But,” the Three said, “we have not succeeded with the mental aspect.”
Pellus poured himself another cup of spirit, drank it back, and immediately felt nauseous. “She, uh, oh. We have not produced a mindless thing, have we?”
“No, no, nothing so dire,” said one healer.
“We always knew her mind would be a challenge,” Pellus said. “Please explain what you mean.”
The Three faced the tower of the Council Keep, gleaming ivory and gold in the twilight. “In all our phases of easing Zan’s deterioration, we bonded with her so often in the healing trance we became intimately familiar with her mind,” they said in unison. “We thought we understood the structure of her memories, the neural pathways that created them. Although much of what she gained from her Union with Barakiel remained a mystery to us, we could analyze the memories built through normal human processes. We thought that if we created these same pathways in this new Zan’s brain, she would essentially be Zan, as she was, with the same personality.” They turned back to Pellus, sipped their wine, and took a few long breaths.
“We wanted to bring this new Zan to a state where she would feel the same way to us in the healing trance as the true Zan, but it has not happened. As far as we can tell, she has not integrated the memories we attempted to recreate. She does not feel the same to us.”
“Are you sure the structure is exactly the same? The neural pathways?”
“Spatially, yes, it is the same, yet still different. If you were to describe the difference based on an adept’s knowledge, you would say the energy is not traveling with the same frequency through the new Zan’s brain. The vibrations are different, though the physical pathway is identical.”
Pellus set down his goblet and rubbed his face before he bent his head back to look at the stars directly overhead. “I fear we have been arrogant.”
“Yes, we have. A human experience is more than a map for electrical energy in the brain. It is a process of sensory input, unique in its nuances.”
“She cannot integrate the memories because her senses have told her nothing about being Zan. Not yet.”
“Precisely.”
“Balance help us,” Pellus whispered. “But surely the memory structures have some effect?”
“Yes, but they are more like impressions. I suspect they will be buried, almost subconscious. They may motivate her, generate likes and dislikes, but I do not think she will remember her identity.”
“She will not remember Barakiel?”
“On some level, she may. There is no predicting it.”
“Ah, Three, we must wake her and hope for the best. Barakiel plans to meet the Stream with the queen’s body. I do not think I can convince him otherwise.”
“No, you will not convince him.”
“We must give him a reason to live. We need him. And demon take him, he is my friend! I will not let him go.”
“Nor do we have any intention of losing him to grief. Let us wake her and prepare her to meet him. But we wonder, Pellus. Should we tell her who she is if she does not remember?” The Three placed their goblets on the small table and stared at Pellus as if they were trying to pull him into one of their telepathic communications. He wished he could bond with them in that way. He looked into their silver eyes, each in turn, as he rolled the question around in his mind.
“From the sense you got of her when you were in the healing trance, how much would she understand?”
“We do not know.”
“Then we should not tell her or use her name,” he said. “We must make sure she will not be overwhelmed or frightened. We must shield her from the citizens, and even the Council, until we know how she will react to consciousness.”
The healers nodded. “Are you ready?”
“I’m filled with dread, yet beyond eager. I have not been so confused in an age.”
They smiled at him indulgently then descended the stairs. Pellus followed.
I should have brought Jeduthan. She would have lent me strength.
In the back corner of a white marble chamber, the clone of the beloved and powerful Zanogara lay sleeping on a bed of violet light. Pellus had often checked on the clone as she grew, but with the queen’s decline and the king’s distress, it had been some time since he’d seen her. Now, to find her exactly as Zan was when he’d first met her left him speechless and trembling.
My grief makes me emotional, but she is so beautiful. Barakiel will stay. He must, if only to gaze on her as she was when he fell in love with her.
With their white dresses softly rustling, the Three positioned themselves in a semicircle around the clone’s head. One placed her fingers on her temples, while the others touched her shoulders. A moment later the clone stirred and opened her eyes. The Three crouched beside her.
“Welcome to awareness, our friend. We are the Sylvan Three. We think you know us.” They laid their delicate hands on the soft gray cloth that covered her. “We were with you, in your mind, as you came toward the surface, this place where you can see, hear, taste and feel.”
“Mothers,” the new Zan whispered.
The Three laughed, a tinkling, joyful sound. The new Zan’s deep blue eyes lit up to hear it. Pellus wanted to hug her but he hung back, trusting that the healers knew best. One of them took Zan’s hand and pulled her upright. The cover fell away, revealing the perfection of her naked upper half.
“Do you feel all right?” the Three asked.
“I, I do not know. How am I supposed to feel?”
“Like you want to leave your bed, stand up, and begin your life.”
The new Zan stared at them, her lips pursed and her eyes scrunched as she contemplated this information. Then she noticed Pellus, standing behind the Three.
“Who is this, mothers?”
“He is Pellus, a dear friend.”
“I do not know him.”
“You will. For now, just know that he is kind.”
Pellus stepped forward. He bowed and smiled as gently as he could. “I am happy to meet you, friend.”
“Huh, hello.” The new Zan smiled shyly at him, which made his heart flutter.
I am not myself in the face of these queer events.
His stare triggered something in the clone. She covered herself with her blanket. Pellus glanced at the Three. Surely, that was a good sign, an indication of normal human behavior inserted into the new Zan’s mind along with language. One healer went to a chest and pulled out a robe of the finest quality, in the same violet shade as the energy bed.
“Here you are. Clothing for you.” The Three stationed themselves in front of Pellus while the new Zan rose and dressed. Then they moved back next to him. He grew misty-eyed to see the clone standing there, so like the queen when she was young, with the ease of a healthy fine body.
“You look strong, friend. Do you feel strong?” the Three asked.
The clone stretched and arched her back then peered at the healers. “You call me friend, but are you not my mothers?”
“In a way. We are your creators, friends, and protectors. You may call us mothers if you wish.”
Pellus wished they hadn’t said that. To call them mothers might encourage the new Zan to relate to the world like a child. She seemed childlike enough as she looked quizzically at the healers then walked to the mirror hanging above the chest. She touched her lovely face, her deep black hair. “I do not know myself, mothers. Who am I?”
The Three lowered their eyes for a pulse or two. “We will teach you who you are,” they said. “We will begin by showing you around our home. You will learn through all your senses. Much better to learn in that way, is it not, Pellus?”
“Oh yes, Three. And you must be patient, friend. You have so many wonderful things to learn.”
Despite his misgivings, the new Zan’s sunny smile lifted Pellus’ spirits more than anything had in a long time.
Barakiel will be filled with joy to see her. He will. How could he react any other way?
October 1, 2021
A New Anthology!
Hey there, dear readers! In case you haven't heard, I have a novella in this new anthology! I'm privileged to appear in the company of such accomplished writers. Read about our stories below, and
get your copy here.
Outer-Rim Rescue by Libby Doyle
When ex-cop Jane Mwanda is hired by a powerful woman to retrieve her runaway daughter, she tracks the girl to a planet controlled by the notorious Rell Syndicate, where she’s promptly locked up by sexy strongman Tian Wei. The good news? Jane’s pretty sure the girl she’s been sent to rescue is in the same facility. The bad news? They’re both a hair’s breadth away from being sex-trafficked. Jane doesn’t know what to think when Tian Wei liberates them, considering she’d written him off as scum despite her powerful attraction. She’ll need his help if she expects to keep the girl safe and escape the Outer Rim, where violence is currency and everyone is on the take. Problem is, she has no idea if she can trust him.
An Unforgiving Desert by S. J. Pajonas
When their class ship is hijacked during the final exam, and Skylar and Kalvin are marooned in the desert, they have a long way to go to make it to safety, if they don't kill each other first. Will they make it out of the unforgiving desert in one piece?
Pirate Spark by Carysa Locke
Vashti has spent her entire life trying to prevent the war she foresaw in her nightmares. Having failed, she must now find an advantage for her people, or watch as it rips the galaxy, and her people, apart.
The Rogue's Heart by Erin Hayes
Faced with a failing heart, space pirate Clementine Jones and her crew must come up with the cash to buy her a new one in a brutal, unforgiving galaxy.
Spacer's Third Law by Christina Westcott
Stranded at an isolated space station, Bru Thorsson must hire a second licensed pilot for her salvage ship before she's allowed to undock, but the only candidate for the job is a burned out ex-marine who is still reliving the horrors of the war and doesn't want the job, leaving Bru one last desperate option—shanghai him.
September 26, 2021
Covers Revealed!
Hello everyone.
I'm excited to show you the new covers for The Covalent Series.
Click here to check them out: https://libbydoyle.com/blog/covers-re...
Sorry, I can't do it on Goodreads.
Why the new look, you may ask? I wanted to better reflect the nature of this genre-bending tale, one that is by turns mystery, thriller, urban fantasy, and sci-fi adventure. Above all, this epic series is the story of a great love and its consequences.
To capture all this, my cover designer, Peter Langdon, and I worked together to come up with this super-cool set of images.
Well, okay, it was mostly Peter. But I helped, I swear.
Let me know what you think in the comments!
You'll also be happy to know that the entire series is on sale from now until the release this autumn of Nuzan, the fifth and final book. Here's the link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08...
I can't wait to show you the cover for Nuzan!
I'm excited to show you the new covers for The Covalent Series.
Click here to check them out: https://libbydoyle.com/blog/covers-re...
Sorry, I can't do it on Goodreads.
Why the new look, you may ask? I wanted to better reflect the nature of this genre-bending tale, one that is by turns mystery, thriller, urban fantasy, and sci-fi adventure. Above all, this epic series is the story of a great love and its consequences.
To capture all this, my cover designer, Peter Langdon, and I worked together to come up with this super-cool set of images.
Well, okay, it was mostly Peter. But I helped, I swear.
Let me know what you think in the comments!
You'll also be happy to know that the entire series is on sale from now until the release this autumn of Nuzan, the fifth and final book. Here's the link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08...
I can't wait to show you the cover for Nuzan!
August 23, 2021
Covers Revealed!
Hello everyone.
I'm excited to show you the new covers for The Covalent Series.
Why the new look, you may ask? I wanted to better reflect the nature of this genre-bending tale, one that is by turns mystery, thriller, urban fantasy, and sci-fi adventure. Above all, this epic series is the story of a great love and its consequences.
To capture all this, my cover designer, Peter Langdon, and I worked together to come up with this super-cool set of images.
Well, okay, it was mostly Peter. But I helped, I swear.
Let me know what you think in the comments!
You'll also be happy to know that the entire series is on sale from now until the release this autumn of Nuzan, the fifth and final book. I can't wait to show you the cover for that one!
I'm excited to show you the new covers for The Covalent Series.
Why the new look, you may ask? I wanted to better reflect the nature of this genre-bending tale, one that is by turns mystery, thriller, urban fantasy, and sci-fi adventure. Above all, this epic series is the story of a great love and its consequences.
To capture all this, my cover designer, Peter Langdon, and I worked together to come up with this super-cool set of images.
Well, okay, it was mostly Peter. But I helped, I swear.
Let me know what you think in the comments!
You'll also be happy to know that the entire series is on sale from now until the release this autumn of Nuzan, the fifth and final book. I can't wait to show you the cover for that one!
May 20, 2021
Music Can Bring Us Together
Music certainly brought Zan and Rainer together. Do you remember when they first met? Way back in book one, Zan went to Rainer's home seeking his help with a case and she heard him playing the violin as she approached. She was touched by the beauty of his music. And Rainer became completely smitten with Zan after he saw her play the guitar.
Our heroes continue their shared musical life in The Warlord Season, so I'm pressing on with my tradition of creating a book playlist for your entertainment.
Some of the songs below represent happenings in the book, some key on themes, and others are played by Zan and Rainer in the book. I've pasted an excerpt from the lyrics of each. To access the entire playlist, visit my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...
Enjoy!
Comanche Moon, The Black Angels
They've stolen the land we've been roaming
I swear it's the end of the line
We'll fight, we survive
Warlord, Cypress Hill
I was born with thunder up in my hands to silence all of the lambs
I've conquered so many lands, put up with whatever man
With God's plan, the journey eternal
Hellfire spreading wide, now you're in the inferno
Going Underground, The Jam
Some people might get some pleasure out of hate
Me, I've enough already on my plate
People might need some tension to relax
Me, I'm too busy dodging between the flak
Never Comes the Day, The Moody Blues
Never comes the day for my love and me
I feel her gently sighing as the evening slips away
If only you knew what's inside of me now
You wouldn't want to know me somehow
Rusty Cage, Johnny Cash
I'm going to break my
Going to break my rusty cage and run
I Bleed, The Pixies
As breathing flows
My mind secedes
I bleed
The Hungry Wolf, X
I am the hungry wolf
And run endlessly with my mate
Welcome to the dripping jaws
The altar of your death
Sally Goodin, Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs
Instrumental
Wind and Rain, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings
The only tune that the fiddle would play was
Oh, the dreadful wind and rain
Salt Creek, Tony Rice
Instrumental
Orange Blossom Special,
The Flying Burrito Brothers with Byron Berline
Hey, look a-yonder comin'
Comin' down that railroad track
It's the Orange Blossom Special
Bringin' my baby back
FUCAW, Mannequin Pussy
What did you say to me, boy?
Come on and spit it in my face
Who the fuck you talkin' to, boy?
Come on, spit, spit, spit, spit, spit
Hell Broke Luce, Tom Waits
Get me another body bag, the body bag's full
My face was scorched, scorched
I miss my home I miss my porch, porch
Burning Down the House, Talking Heads
Close enough but not too far
Maybe you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire
Supper’s Ready, Genesis
And it's hey babe, with your guardian eyes so blue
Hey my baby, don't you know our love is true?
I've been so far from here, far from your loving arms
Now I'm back again
And babe, it's gonna work out fine
Our heroes continue their shared musical life in The Warlord Season, so I'm pressing on with my tradition of creating a book playlist for your entertainment.
Some of the songs below represent happenings in the book, some key on themes, and others are played by Zan and Rainer in the book. I've pasted an excerpt from the lyrics of each. To access the entire playlist, visit my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list...
Enjoy!
Comanche Moon, The Black Angels
They've stolen the land we've been roaming
I swear it's the end of the line
We'll fight, we survive
Warlord, Cypress Hill
I was born with thunder up in my hands to silence all of the lambs
I've conquered so many lands, put up with whatever man
With God's plan, the journey eternal
Hellfire spreading wide, now you're in the inferno
Going Underground, The Jam
Some people might get some pleasure out of hate
Me, I've enough already on my plate
People might need some tension to relax
Me, I'm too busy dodging between the flak
Never Comes the Day, The Moody Blues
Never comes the day for my love and me
I feel her gently sighing as the evening slips away
If only you knew what's inside of me now
You wouldn't want to know me somehow
Rusty Cage, Johnny Cash
I'm going to break my
Going to break my rusty cage and run
I Bleed, The Pixies
As breathing flows
My mind secedes
I bleed
The Hungry Wolf, X
I am the hungry wolf
And run endlessly with my mate
Welcome to the dripping jaws
The altar of your death
Sally Goodin, Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs
Instrumental
Wind and Rain, Gillian Welch & David Rawlings
The only tune that the fiddle would play was
Oh, the dreadful wind and rain
Salt Creek, Tony Rice
Instrumental
Orange Blossom Special,
The Flying Burrito Brothers with Byron Berline
Hey, look a-yonder comin'
Comin' down that railroad track
It's the Orange Blossom Special
Bringin' my baby back
FUCAW, Mannequin Pussy
What did you say to me, boy?
Come on and spit it in my face
Who the fuck you talkin' to, boy?
Come on, spit, spit, spit, spit, spit
Hell Broke Luce, Tom Waits
Get me another body bag, the body bag's full
My face was scorched, scorched
I miss my home I miss my porch, porch
Burning Down the House, Talking Heads
Close enough but not too far
Maybe you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire
Supper’s Ready, Genesis
And it's hey babe, with your guardian eyes so blue
Hey my baby, don't you know our love is true?
I've been so far from here, far from your loving arms
Now I'm back again
And babe, it's gonna work out fine
September 21, 2020
Music Can Bring Us Together
Music certainly brought Zan and Rainer together. Do you remember when they first met? Way back in book one, Zan went to Rainer's home seeking his help with a case and she heard him playing the violin as she approached. She was touched by the beauty of his music. And Rainer became completely smitten with Zan after he saw her play the guitar. Our heroes continue their shared musical life in
The Warlord Season
,
so I'm pressing on with my tradition of creating a book playlist for your entertainment.Some of the songs below represent happenings in the book, some key on themes, and others are played by Zan and Rainer in the book. If you click on the title, it will take you to a YouTube video or recording of the song. I also pasted an excerpt from the lyrics of each. If you like, you can also access the entire playlist on my YouTube channel . Enjoy!
Comanche Moon , The Black Angels
They've stolen the land we've been roaming
I swear it's the end of the line
We'll fight, we survive
Warlord , Cypress Hill
I was born with thunder up in my hands to silence all of the lambs
I've conquered so many lands, put up with whatever man
With God's plan, the journey eternal
Hell fire spreading wide, now you're in the inferno
Going Underground , The Jam
Some people might get some pleasure out of hate
Me, I've enough already on my plate
People might need some tension to relax
Me, I'm too busy dodging between the flak
Never Comes the Day , The Moody Blues
Never comes the day for my love and me
I feel her gently sighing as the evening slips away
If only you knew what's inside of me now
You wouldn't want to know me somehow
Rusty Cage , Johnny Cash
I'm going to break my
Going to break my rusty cage and run
I Bleed , The Pixies
As breathing flows
My mind secedes
I bleed
The Hungry Wolf , X
I am the hungry wolf
And run endlessly with my mate
Welcome to the dripping jaws
The altar of your death
Sally Goodin , Lester Flatt & Earl Scruggs
Instrumental
Wind and Rain , Gillian Welch & David Rawlings
The only tune that the fiddle would play was
Oh, the dreadful wind and rain
Salt Creek , Tony Rice
Instrumental
Orange Blossom Special ,
The Flying Burrito Brothers with Byron Berline
Hey, look a-yonder comin'
Comin' down that railroad track
It's the Orange Blossom Special
Bringin' my baby back
FUCAW , Mannequin Pussy
What did you say to me, boy?
Come on and spit it in my face
Who the fuck you talkin' to, boy?
Come on, spit, spit, spit, spit, spit
Hell Broke Luce, Tom Waits
Get me another body bag, the body bag's full
My face was scorched, scorched
I miss my home I miss my porch, porch
Burning Down the House , Talking Heads
Close enough but not too far
Maybe you know where you are
Fightin' fire with fire
Supper’s Ready , Genesis
And it's hey babe, with your guardian eyes so blue
Hey my baby, don't you know our love is true?
I've been so far from here, far from your loving arms
Now I'm back again
And babe, it's gonna work out fine
July 2, 2020
Summer of SFR
Today I ran across a post on social media asking people what had led to their interest in science-fiction romance as a genre. An opportune question, given that we are now in the second week of the Summer of SFR, hosted by S.J. Pajonas on her blog. Give a click and take a gander. Ms. Pajonas is featuring
The Passion Season: Book I of the Covalent Series
on July 3, as well as a new title in this anything-goes genre each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday until September 1, 2020. I'm sure there will be something for everyone. Many thanks to S.J. Pajonas!To return to our question, my love for science fiction and fantasy began early. When I was nine or ten, I think, I read a book called Beyond the Paw Paw Trees. Below is the cover and publisher's description.
It all began on a lavender blue day—the kind of day when anything can happen. It was on such a day that Anna Lavinia’s father saw a double rainbow and went chasing after it. And it is on such a day that she and her cat, Strawberry, set off on their journey beyond the walled garden where the pawpaw trees grow, to a place where the buttercups bloom pink and the laws of gravity don’t always apply. Here Anna Lavinia will test her mother’s advice “Never believe what you see,” against her father’s wise words “Believe only what you see,” and just maybe she’ll finally be able to use the mysterious silver key her father left behind when he went chasing after rainbows.I loved this book beyond reason, the beginnings of my lifelong fondness for books with a blend of science fiction and fantasy, a blend that is present in The Covalent Series .
Beyond the Pawpaw Trees is a tour through a land as strange and wonderful as Oz, filled with people as delightfully batty as any in Alice’s looking glass. It is a place to return to again and again, beautifully brought to life in Palmer Brown’s fanciful words and intricate, sugar-spun drawings.
A Wrinkle in Time is another book that had a profound effect on me, so much so that I blogged about this one already!
So, how did my girlish predilections become a fondness for science-fiction romance? I'll confess that much of my science-fiction reading was not romance, although many of these books had romantic subplots. In high school, I was obsessed with the Dune series by Frank Herbert. I love Hyperion by Dan Simmons, I adore Roger Zelazny and Ursula Le Guin, and The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood spoke to my feminism more clearly than anything had before. Still, I've long been drawn to romantic stories on the screen, one of my favorites being the ill-fated love of Buffy and Angel on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I guess you could say I was primed to combine two of my favorite things. So, I wrote a love story! The tale came rolling out of my head. Sure, a lot goes on in The Covalent Series besides the romance. The books feature a murder mystery, political intrigue, and a war (or two), but many of the wild things that happen are consequences of that central great love.
I have another confession. I've only become familiar with science-fiction romance since I began to write books in the genre. When I set out to write The Covalent Series , I thought I was writing a paranormal romance. A woman in the writers' group I was in at the time said to me, "Eh, paranormal romance? Everyone thinks vampires, werewolves, and shifters, not aliens." I have found this to be true.
So, shortly after I published The Passion Season , I realized I need to find a better genre-home. Perhaps urban fantasy? I pitched a literary agent once who told me my series was urban fantasy because large chunks of it are set in the City of Philadelphia, an urban environment if ever there was one. But then I learned that urban fantasy fans demand straightforward magic and fantasy creatures like fae, shifters, and wizards.
While my character Pellus may seem like some kind of wizard, what he does is actually quantum physics paired with his power as a member of an ancient race of beings known as the Covalent, who hold the elemental forces of Creation and Destruction in Balance and so preserve the cosmos. Long ago, when human society was primitive, the Covalent often visited the human world and became part of our mythology. We gave them many names: angel, djinn, avatar, god. Imagine how delighted I was to discover science-fiction romance! The Covalent Series had finally found a home.
