Ruthless Good, A
Roth Celebria leads a small band of free men fighting to overthrow the ruthless leaders of his colony and nearly dies for his cause until Captain Claudia Turan rescues him and introduces him to a world beyond his imagination.
Length: Full Novel
Word Count: 91,186
Genre: Futuristic Romance
Available formats: PDF, RTF, Epub, HTML, Mobipocket (.prc)
© Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, January 2009
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Roth struggled toward the warmth. Even if it was the fires of hell, he wanted to reach it. But something heavy weighed on him and held him back. Was he buried? Dead and under the dirt. Why couldn’t he move?
It was dark. As dark as the back of the caves his father had taken him to visit one time. The caves where his parents had hidden for months until Morda called off the hunt.
The hunt. They’d be hunting him. He had to run. Roth opened his eyes to the brilliant orange, yellow and red flickers. Flames. As if the sight woke all his other senses, he heard the crackling of wood, [the feel of-delete][felt the] rough wool on his bare skin[,-delete] and the heat of flames of another sort on his back and buttocks.
He closed his eyes back to slits. Was he back in Morda’s brutal clutches? He remembered the icy strength of the Watara River holding him tight to the currents. He shivered and pulled his knees closer to his chest. A sound from across the fire alerted him to the presence of others.
“Hell’s shithouse. They’re ruined!” a strangely accented female voice cursed. She uttered more odd phrases in an angry tone.
A woman displaying anger? A woman cursing? Beyond the fire he saw trees. Roth slowly shifted his head a little to widen his field of vision. He was outside. Not far away he heard the purr of the river.
The woman wore a man’s shirt and pants. She held a boot in her hand and glared at it with a ferocity that shocked him. And her face, beyond the fierce scowl, was unlike any he’d ever seen. Angles and dimples, evident even now with her frown, combined into a work of art. An image of a goddess. And to heighten her divine appearance, her hair hung long and loose to her waist. It was made of silver. Not the dull gray color of old age, but the silver of a deity gracing Parlania with her presence. Her brows were dark, almost black, and her face unlined in youth. Her hands as she turned the boot about were long-fingered and strong while her wrist looked fragile. But a sword lay at her side.
She glanced over at him and shocked him into a gasp. Her eyes were the same silver as her hair, a color that could not be mortal. Perhaps he was dead.
“So you’re awake.”
Her voice poured over him like the warm honey produced by mountain bees. And something about it made him very aware of his nudity beneath the mountain of blankets weighing on him.
“Can you speak? Do you understand my words?” She rose with a grace to mirror a dance move and walked around the fire to kneel by his head.
Roth tried to sit up, but the world spun sickeningly when he lifted his head.
“Whoa there, stranger.” She pressed him back with a strong hand.
Not that she had need of strength. His muscles were as soft clay.
“Here, roll to your back and let me put something beneath your shoulders.” She picked up more blankets from beside the fire and moved around behind him. She lifted the covers from his back to add the new.
“Son of a damned Savage bitch!”