A little more Buck, Naked for SFR Brigade Showcase

I’ve been babbling for the last few days about my 9/1 release Buck, Naked (Chronicles of the Malcolm 3). As part of the effort to spread the word, I’m taking part in this month’s SFR Brigade Showcase. That’s Science Fiction Romance, if you haven’t had your coffee yet. 🙂 I’m one of a group of SFR authors who’ll be taking part to highlight new releases, do character interviews, or just talk about science fiction in general.

Check out all the other participants in the SFR Brigade Showcase here. You’ll be glad you did!

The Chronicles of the Malcolm series reflects my love of two great science fiction TV shows, Farscape and Firefly. It’s certainly not fanfic, but once you meet my motley crew of space rascals with good hearts who find themselves fending off forces more powerful than they are, you’ll see my love for these shows shining through. Even the name of the spaceship is a bow to good old “Captain Tightpants,” aka Malcolm Reynolds of Firefly.

One thing to be clear on, though: Buck is not Jayne from Firefly, though he’s a weapons expert without much education. My Buck’s a genuinely nice guy who’d really rather be cooking for the crew than fighting for them. Due to a combination of PTSD and alien biomodifications inflicted while he was a POW, though, he’s very good at fighting and keeps getting drawn back into violent situations.

Here’s a taste of Buck and his soon-to-be heroine Aleema–a scientist who’s also a survivor of the same experiment-happy aliens–trying to make dinner without anything bad happening. It’s from Aleema’s point of view.

After the others took their drinks and left, Aleema handed him a bag of vegetables—a few that had come with humans from Earth and a few native to Naxos or other dry planets—and a sharp kitchen knife. “Mind chopping these up for me while I get the mealworm-crumble going?”

“You got crumble? Awesome. It ain’t exactly actual-factual meat, but it’s better than nutri-mix. ‘Just add water’ my ass. More like add a whole bottle of something high-test and maybe you won’t notice your dinner doesn’t taste like anything.”

She turned toward the evapo-cooler to take out the crumble, acting like nothing felt uneasy about the situation.

In reality she poised on the balls of her feet, all senses sharp, ready to take evasive action if necessary. She didn’t literally have eyes in the back of her head—thank the stars for that, because she wouldn’t put it past the Seera to think that sounded like a terrific idea that they should test out on a few prisoners before they implemented it on themselves—but her senses were keen enough she’d know if he were making a move.

At the moment, though, everything seemed fine. As he chopped, just a little too fast for most humans to match, Buck said, “Thank you. It means something that you’d trust me with a knife right off.”

His voice was deep and raspy, as if he’d inhaled far too much smoke or more likely, some gas-based weapon. Despite that, his tone was surprisingly sweet and humble. “For that matter, thanks for letting me help out—the captain gets to order me around, but there’s no need for you to listen to him. I was a cook before…before everything. Makes me feel normal-like to be in a kitchen.”

Aleema let out a deep, relieved breath. Though she stayed on high alert—he had PTSD, Seera scars, and mod-integration issues, so you never knew what might set him off—all she had to fight at the moment was the urge to hug Buck. She knew it would end badly, but she wanted to pull him close, assure him everything would be all right, that if they worked together, he’d eventually feel “normal-like” on a regular basis and be able to cope better with the times he didn’t.

Worse than that, she wanted to pull him close because she’d almost forgotten what it was like to hold an attractive man in her arms, press her body against his. She might be stable now, but there had been incidents earlier in her recovery that she wouldn’t risk again just for some bodily warmth.

But with Buck, it might be safe. He’d be able to anticipate. Be able to stop her if she got crazy. And maybe knowing that would be enough to keep her calm, make it safe…

Yeah, right. A girl could dream, but in this case, if she gave into the daydream, it would probably lead to Buck using that knife on her.

Best to distract herself. Keep talking. Besides, if Buck wanted to feel normal, she owed him an ordinary conversation, or as close as she could manage when she was assaulted with sexual fantasies and feeling the almost-forgotten urge to flirt.

“You were a chef?” she asked.

“Just a cook my last year of basicschool and a while after. It weren’t nothing but in a hole-in-the-wall diner, but I liked the job. Did good at it too, even though the owner only hired me because she knew my parents. I started out doing prep stuff part-time after school and worked up to line cook in six months. Made a mean deep-fried glaspoid with pan gravy if I do say myself.” He smiled. “Cooking ain’t hard if you have good ingredients, and Montgomery was a farming planet. Mostly for export, but we kept enough so we ate decent-like. Never tasted nutri-mix or mealworm crumble until the Seera came. No offense to your crumble. City folks have to eat what they can get.”

“None taken, although the crumble deserves insults. They say it’s mealworms and soy, but I have my suspicions it’s recycled bits of whatever won’t kill you, liberally laced with salt.”

“I suspicion you might be right.” He hesitated, then corrected himself. “Suspect, that is. Montgomery’s version of Standard was what you’d call not exactly standard, but my friends have been tryin’ to teach me to talk nicer.” He blessed her with another smile.

Stars, he was handsome when he smiled. Battered, scruffy, but handsome.

She thought she knew how to sort out the conflicting information passed on by her over-enhanced senses. She’d had plenty of time to practice, after all. But Buck Evans was a puzzle liberally laced with enigma. He was a tightly drawn wire, quivering with barely restrained fear and rage, and he wanted to let go in a burst of soothing violence. She knew that feeling. It had been a long time since she let herself indulge it, but she remembered the surge of endorphins, the tension that was both horrible and erotic, the sweet, sexual ache when she finally exploded into a whirl of pain and rage looking for a target, any target.

He stank of detox. He kept himself clean, so unmodified humans wouldn’t notice, though a felinoid or some other keen-nosed species might, but it was obvious to Aleema’s tweaked senses. He used to drink heavily. He’d stopped cold turkey, not too long ago, and his system was cleansing itself. He had to feel like something the cat wouldn’t bother dragging in because it wasn’t putting up a fight anymore and wasn’t any fun.

But under the unhealthy sweat of detox, he smelled like something she wanted to press her face into and just breathe.

And he was being polite. Making friendly conversation. Thanking her for accepting him, for letting him help in the kitchen, even though it hadn’t been his idea. Mik’s order had been couched like a suggestion but she’d recognized it for what it was as readily as Buck had.

He was holding it together, even though she suspected it was causing him physical as well as mental anguish.

*

What happens next? Thrilling mid-air pursuits, space shoot-outs, a deadly common enemy. and possibly true love…but first, one surprisingly tasty dinner, with flirting.

To save him, she must strip him bare.
Security expert Buck’s senses are inhumanly keen, to the point he can see through time and space, and that’s just the start of his odd abilities—thank you, alien captors. He also experiences paranoia, flashbacks, and the occasional hallucination—thank you, PTSD. No wonder he fears he could hurt one of the Malcolm crewmates he lives to protect, the closest thing to family he has left after the destruction of his home planet.
Brilliant scientist Aleema can teach him how to use his modifications without triggering  PTSD. She’s survived the same meddling aliens and suffered even more dramatic alterations. At least her unwanted immortality means she’s had time to figure out how the modifications work and use the knowledge to aid other survivors. Helping Buck means spending some serious time together.

Time enough to fall in love.

Just as happiness seems within their grasp, Aleema realizes one of Buck’s modifications dooms him to an unthinkable future. To save him, she must place herself in the hands of their common enemy and leave Buck to face his worst fears without her.

Buy links: Amazon / iTunes / Kobo / All Romance Ebooks (Nook is coming soon.)

 

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