Avenger Mine is book 2 of the sci-fi fantasy series, The Kataran Series, following Guardian Mine. Written by T.M. Slay and published by Fantasy Publishing, this new series makes for a very promising one… “Step into fantasy and leave ordinary behind”!
Author: T. M. Slay
Genre: Sci-fi, fantasy
Release date: March 16th, 2015
Released by: Fantasy Publishing
Length: 430 pages
Blurb: Jackson, The Avenger. Alone most of his life, people feared him more than appreciated his psychic abilities; abilities that had kept their race safe for more than three hundred years. No one understood the pain and the solitude that came with being a Mind Bender. He saves who he can, and kills those who try to stop him. His world is black and white. Simple. Until now.
Marilena has no one to turn to. Swept away from her home world as a child, she’s lived in hiding with her parents most of these years. And now, the enemies who forced their flight to Earth have come…and are searching for her. Dare she trust the Kataran Warrior who swears her enemies are his? Where has he been until now, and why is he so interested in her psychic ability?
Jackson has been fighting this war for most of his life, and has been an interrogator for even longer. Marilena is a skilled psychic too and understanding her position in this war is proving to be one of the most difficult missions of his career. Is Marilena working with the Skimtar? Jackson isn’t sure, but he intends to find out, and first he has to find a way into her mind…
About the Author:
Raised all over the United States, I decided to settle back in my home state of Louisiana. A large immediate family of 7 (5 children) and an extended family of well over 20, I never have far to look for inspiration. With a love of reading instilled in my very DNA by both my grandmother and my mother, we have a combined library of well over 5,000 books. Of course, that love of reading had to give way to a love of writing.
Once my characters jump into my head, they won’t jump out until they make their way to the page. It’s a glorious and annoying problem to have all at once. I hope you’ll get to know them as well as I do in my Kataran Series, my Atlantean Series, and a few stand alone books, all to be published in short order!
Author website: http://www.tmslay.com/
Publisher website: http://www.fantasypublishingllc.com/
Excerpt from Chapter 18
Standing in her room, Mala looked herself over in the full length mirror. Anxiety swirled in her chest, but it was time. If there ever was a time, it was now. Before her mother died, they had gone to a leather-smith, and with silver thread that Mala had pulled from the earth, she and her mother had made several garments. This had been one of them. Her dad had been a Guardian, and he was partial to black. Knowing that he would never see another Katara in his lifetime, he allowed her the luxury of wearing his colors, symbols, and weapons. As his only child, and one of their ancient days, her father tended to give her most of what she asked for. She strapped on his wrist cuffs and his knives.
The rest of her clothes weren’t traditional, but they had gotten used to making their own traditions after the first one hundred years. She wore a thin, black, long-sleeved shirt under a black leather vest. The lapels were painstakingly stitched with the symbols of her father and his father before him. It also fit tight, like a second skin. Katara females didn’t normally dress like this, but things had been changing on Xan even before the attack. The breathable, snug fabrics allowed for better movement. The pants were the same. Soft leather, worn from hundreds of years of wear. Mostly in private, for the Roma tribes were very fussy about such tight clothing. But it didn’t stop her from training with her father. Her boots, now they were all Mala. Black leather, of course, with a four inch heel, and a silver zipper up the inside of the leg, straps and buckles up the outside of her leg. Damn, they were sexy. Now her five foot ten inches would be a six foot two inches, and she could look that smug Katara straight in the eye.
It had been a long time since she dressed in this manner. But there was something about it. It was like coming home. A light brush of silver eye-shadow, matched the solid silver of her eyes. She knew they were different, that’s why she hadn’t even shown them to Jackson yet. His were the perfect Katara eyes. Hunter green shot through with stars of silver. Hers were just silver, even the pupil. They scared most people who saw her without her contacts. But tonight she would need all the edge she could get. She was going to be facing down some of the most well trained and feared Kataras ever. They had not only survived, but struck out in their own war. And Jackson led them. He had his own weaknesses, but she imagined they were nothing compared to his strengths.
Grabbing the thick bunch of silver strands in her hair, she braided them separately, leaving the rest of her black hair in a cascade of silk down her back. They were only collecting the team, if she had been expecting a war tonight, all of her hair would either be braided, or at least in a ponytail. Hair in the face, was not the way to fight a bunch of Skimtar who were trying to kill you. However, not looking might work too. Never having seen a Skimtar before, she might would rather be blind. God, what was she doing––thinking of fighting the Skimtar, war, and killing. It was crazy! She had officially lost her mind. Yup. She was headed for the loony bin. Only they would be really freaked out when she didn’t age for the next hundred years or so. Damn. Wasn’t there anywhere a crazy person could be committed in peace? Sighing at herself, she figured not. Might as well face this now.
One last look at herself in the mirror, and she hardly believed she was the woman staring back at her. She could have been her mother. Except the attitude. That was all her dad. She felt them, their presence in the air around her, expecting something else. She didn’t quite know what, but right now, it didn’t matter. Her curves were the full curves of a woman set on a tall body that made them look leaner than they actually were. Of course, all the black helped, but it was still nice to know she had this body hiding under the layers of conservative clothing. This look was not Roma. But it was Katara, at least the Katara she and her mother had created. And the two seemed to war within her.
But in this moment she could do nothing less than close the door to the Roma within her, and open the long closed door of the Katara instead. Instantly, The Universe responded to her. The air swirled around her like a small whirlwind, blowing her hair out and away from her shoulders. She took a deep breath as though for the first time, and colors jumped before her eyes––bright hues that she had never known existed in her modest bedroom. The elements glowed for her, called to her; she could feel the earth beneath her feet and its elation at her sudden awakening. It was a rebirth of some kind; The Universe within her was budding like a flower in the spring. Had she ever felt this before? Maybe, a long time ago, but never to this magnitude. Was it the effect of the Torta, or having Jackson so near? With one last, last glance at herself, she walked out of her room, knowing Jackson wouldn’t be long.
Maybe simply having another Katara around was some sort of trigger to the power within her. Electricity crawled up her arms, like ants over her skin, feather-light, but obvious in its arrival. Jackson. So, he had called his power too, and was waiting on her.
“I do not know that I want my men to see you looking like that.”
“Like what? A Katara? Isn’t that what you’ve been reminding me I am? How I should talk, think, dress, act?” She knew there was attitude in the swing of her hips. What could she say? She was feelin’ it. Another deep breath and the elements literally sang to her. She approached Jackson and his scent surrounded her; it had become an element all its own. Walking around him, she reached out, tracing the line of his shoulder with one hand, feeling their combined powers sizzling between her fingertips and his hardened body. She’d never felt so alive or emboldened. She wanted to rip open his deep purple tunic and rub her hands over his skin. Universe, she could imagine the rush of power that would come from actual skin to skin contact!
She watched a muscle in his jaw twitch when she ever-so-lightly ran a fingernail over the nape of his neck to cross over the hard expanse of the second shoulder. He actually growled. The sound emanating from somewhere deep inside.