SFR Brigade Presents... Cold Revenge

Check out the great story snippets from other SFR Brigade authors.

Here's my contribution - a snippet from Cold Revenge, book 5 in the Fall of the Altairan Empire. And as a bonus, I'm giving away copies of Nexus Point, book 1. Use coupon code AA47G.

I opened my eyes with an effort of will. Everything from my shoulders down screamed with pain. My knee wouldn’t bend. If I took shallow breaths my ribs didn’t creak and protest. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and looked up.
Sitting at my table, drinking from my mug, was an older man. He had an air of suave gentility that didn’t fool me for a second. He looked over at me and smiled.
"Take the ship up," he said to someone behind me in the cockpit.
I turned my head with an effort that sent more pain through my middle. Three people I didn’t recognize were in the cockpit. The engines throbbed in time with my knee. They were flying my ship. Rage overcame pain. I got up and threw myself at the man in the navigator’s seat.
The thugs dragged me back and beat me some more.
When I could think again, I was back on the bench and the ship was well on its way to the jump point. The man at the table was still sipping from my mug and watching me with a cold and toothy smile.
"That was stupid, Captain," he said.
"Where are the rest of the crew?"
"Safe enough. For now."
"Where are they?" I started to stand and but thought better of it when the thug nearest me stepped closer and raised his fist.
"Your concern is most touching. Show her," he said to the thug nearest the cabin doors.
The man opened Jerimon’s cabin door. The thug looming over me jerked me to my feet and dragged me across the lounge to look inside the cabin. Clark and Jasyn sat on one bunk, Ginni held Habim’s hands as they sat on the other bunk. The cabin door slid shut. The thug dragged me across the lounge and dumped me on the bench.
"Where’s Jerimon?" I said through teeth gritted against screaming in pain.
The man smiled, stretching his thin lips wider.
I turned quickly and looked back in the cockpit. Jerimon sat in the pilot’s chair, my chair, he was flying my ship. I was going to kill him, slowly and painfully. Just not right then.
"Who are you and what do you want?" I flung it at the man like a challenge.
"You know who I am, if you think hard enough," the man said. "You cost me fortunes, Dace. I’m here for revenge."
I scrounged desperately through my memories. Who could he be? The list of enemies I’d managed to accumulate was depressingly long. And those were only the ones that I knew. How many more did I have that I didn’t know about?
"Don’t tell me you have no idea who I am," he said and frowned. I preferred that to his false smile. "Does the name Belliff mean anything to you?"
My heart sank. The Targon Syndicate had finally caught up to me.

Here Comes Another Book

Cold Revenge (book 5) is coming very soon, look for it in early September. Did I mention I had the series completely written before I tried to hook a publisher with book one? All eleven books. My goal is to publish one a month until they're all out there. I've got the rights back on book one, so I'll be retooling that one after book eleven releases. Are you excited yet?

Here's a teaser for book five:

Cold Revenge
When Jerimon shows up at the Phoenix after serving only a year of his prison sentence, Dace knows something is off. But Jasyn welcomes her brother aboard the ship. Tensions are high between them. Add in a shortage of money and two stowaways running from the oppressive practices of the theocratic Sidyatha, and the last thing Dace expected: Jerimon's allegiance to the Targon crime syndicate.

And a sneak peek:
“Target acquired,” Touk announced. They’d been chasing the ship for the last ten hours through a pocket of the nebulae. Hide and seek in thick dust and radiation fields was a stressful game to play.
Tayvis brought the ship into his sights. It sat at a full stop. No fancy tricks, no last minute weapons fire, nothing; not what he expected.
“On my command,” Darus Venn, the Gunnery Commander, said over the com, “fire to disable if possible.”
“Acknowledged.” Tayvis lined up the ship in his sights then waited, his finger over the firing button.
“That’s strange,” Mryah said on his other side. She and Touk were his spotters, sorting through scans to locate and mark targets.
“What?” Tayvis asked.
“The ship comes up as a registered trader. I'm not picking up any weapons. Shielding reads as standard navigation shields only.”
“It’s supposed to be a smuggler,” Lorien the runner for their team, said. “Good cover, having a real ship id.”
Mryah shook her head. “The beacon checks out.”
“Fire when ready,” Darus’ voice came from the com.
“What’s the name of the ship?” Tayvis asked Mryah.
“Phoenix Rising,” Mryah said, squinting at her screen.
Tayvis hit the lock button, shutting down the weapons. “Hold your fire,” he said into the com to the other three gunnery teams.
The com crackled. “Are you countermanding my orders, Ensign?” Despite a rough start, Darus and Tayvis got along quite well in the two months since Darus was assigned CO for the gun batteries on the Avenger.
“I don’t think you have all the pertinent information, sir,” Tayvis said. “I want your personal authorization to fire on that ship.”
Darus hurried down the narrow corridor to the portside gun station. He crowded past Lorien. “Well?”
“What’s the delay, Commander Venn?” It was Captain Suweya on the com asking this time.
Darus leaned over Tayvis to speak into the com.  “I’m checking on that, sir.”
“It’s Dace’s ship,” Tayvis said.
“You sure about that?” Darus leaned close to the targeting computer, Mryah’s station, to check the readout. “What in blazes is she doing mixed up in this?” He straightened. “Hold your fire, all gunnery teams, repeat, hold your fire!”
“Did I just hear you correctly, Commander Venn?” The captain did not sound pleased.
“Sir, permission to come to the bridge and explain.”
“You’d better, Commander.”
“Lock your station, Tayvis,” Darus ordered. “You’re coming with me.” He looked at the merchant ship hanging in the targeting sights of the Patrol cruiser. “What’s she playing at this time?”
Tayvis had his station locked in record time then followed Darus. The two of them hurried through the ship to the bridge.
“Bet you fifty credits that Lowell’s behind this,” Darus said.
“That’s not a bet,” Tayvis countered, “that’s a certainty.”
“Keep your mouth shut when we get up there,” Darus instructed as they approached the bridge. “Let me do the talking.”
Tayvis didn’t dignify that with any sort of answer.
The door to the bridge slid open. Captain Suweya gave Darus a dark look then switched his attention to Tayvis. “Ensign Tayvis, you refused a direct order. The customary response to that is to space the mutineer. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t toss you out an airlock right now.”
“Because that ship isn’t the smuggler you think,” Tayvis said. “It’s a merchant ship. And I’m sure the crew’s been framed.”
“Commander Venn?” The captain turned to Darus. “You countermanded my order. Why?”
“Because Ensign Tayvis is right, sir. We’ve been led on a fool’s chase.”
The captain studied both of them for a long time. His eyes, a brown so dark it looked black, were cold and hard. “I’ll give you one more chance to explain.”
“That ship, Phoenix Rising,” Darus said, “belongs to my daughter and two very good friends of mine. None of them would get mixed up in smuggling. There’s more to this than you think, Captain.”