A warm welcome to author Isabelle Adler joining us today to talk about new release “Adrift”.
Isabelle brought a special guest for an interview, namely Matt , shares an excerpt and there is a giveaway to participate in!
Welcome Isabelle 🙂
Title: Adrift
Series: Staying Afloat, Book 1
Author: Isabelle Adler
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: January 30
Length: 66000
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Synopsis
Some jobs are just too good to be true.
Captain Matt Spears learns this the hard way after a mysterious employer hires his ship to hunt down an ancient alien artifact but insists on providing his own pilot. Ryce Faine is handsome and smart, but Matt has rarely met anyone more obnoxious. With tensions running high, it isn’t until they are attacked by the hostile Alraki that Matt grudgingly begins to respect Ryce’s superior skills, respect that transforms into a tentative attraction.
Little did he know that their biggest challenge would be reaching their destination, an abandoned alien base located on a distant moon amid a dense asteroid field. But when Matt learns that Ryce isn’t completely who he says he is and the artifact is more than he bargained for, he is faced with a difficult choice. One that might change the balance of forces in the known galaxy.
Matt doesn’t take well to moral dilemmas; he prefers the easy way out. But that might not be possible anymore, when his past comes back to haunt him at the worst possible moment. When faced with a notorious pirate carrying a personal grudge, the fragile connection Matt has formed with Ryce might be the only thing that he can count on to save them both.
The canteen is small and rather empty. Only two other tables are occupied, and nobody pays us any attention as we settle down. The tabletop lights up, and we punch in our orders. I look over at the other man as the waitress brings his beer and my cocktail. He looks tired, but his green eyes are alert and intelligent, his auburn hair a bright smear of color against the gloomy background.
“So, Captain Spears,” I begin. “I understand that you’ve moved your base of operations due to some recent trouble. How is business going here, in the Elysium system?”
“Oh, you know,” he shrugs noncommittally. “It’s a small sector, not a lot of traffic coming through. But we manage to get by, picking up those short-distance hauls the big companies would charge you an arm and a leg for. There’s always work to be found if you’re looking hard enough.”
“And how about your personal life? Are things looking up there as well?”
Matt’s face transforms subtly. The world-weary look is gone, replaced by an almost self-conscious smile.
“Things are good,” he says cautiously, but I can see from his expression that it’s a vast understatement. “We’re getting along well. I mean, Ryce and I. Better than I expected, given…well, everything.”
I smile too. “So, have you two finally become physical? Inquiring minds want to know.”
Matt smirks and takes a long swig from the bottle. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
“But you aren’t a gentleman,” I point out.
“True, true. Well, let’s just say that neither of us has any complaints in that area.” His smirk deepens.
“That’s good to hear! But sexy times aside, aren’t you worried that Mr. Easom—Ryce—might feel discontent in his new capacity on Lady Lisa? After all, being a smuggler wasn’t what he’d dreamed of. After having such a brilliant start to his military career, finding himself scraping for a living must be disappointing.”
“We are not smugglers,” Matt says pointedly. “We are perfectly legitimate independent contractors. Now, of course there are nuances when working with such diverse clientele—“
“You’re dodging the question.”
Matt sighs and pushes away his beer. His smug smile is gone, replaced by a frown of worry mixed with annoyance.
“Don’t you think I know it’s not good enough for him? The man’s a freaking genius. That’s not the life he should be leading. Ryce deserves so much better than this. Than me.” He sighs. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what he finds in me. I’m not…a lovable person.”
“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on yourself? Clearly, Ryce, Tony, and Val care a great deal about you.”
Matt shrugs uncomfortably. Under the veneer of snark and cynicism, his insecurities run deeper than he realizes.
“Okay, Captain Spears, the final question. What is your biggest fear?”
Matt takes a moment to think about it.
“Losing what I have,” he says with unexpected frankness. “I’ve lost everything I had before—my family’s graces, my career, my status—but it hadn’t felt like losing at the time. Then it had felt like breaking free. But now…it’s different. My ship, my crew, my…partner. It might not look like much from the outside, but they mean everything to me. Losing them would be like losing myself. Like dying.”
Matt falls silent, staring fixedly at his empty bottle. He must be regretting telling me this much, but I sense it’s something that weighs heavily on his heart, a tangible foreboding that haunts him. I recall there are still open wounds in his past, questions and threats that remain unresolved.
I thank him politely for his time and pay for our drinks. He nods absently, and I slip quietly away. There is one other person with whom I’d like to speak, and I don’t want to be late for our meeting.
Adrift
Isabelle Adler © 2017
All Rights Reserved
“No way,” Matt said. “No way in hell.”
The low hum of music and the loud voices threatened to swallow his response. The Blue Giant was like any other canteen on any other small-time maintenance space station, offering cheap drinks and free talk, catering to drifters, smugglers, freelance pilots, and the dregs of every known society. The strong smell of synthetic spirits enveloped the crowded room in an almost tangible cloud. It really wasn’t the best location for conducting business, even over interstellar communications channels, but one could stand being cooped up in a spaceship for only so long.
Matt ignored the noise best he could as he squinted at the commlink screen. This wasn’t a regular type of job, but then again, freelancers didn’t exactly have regular jobs. As it was, this one promised to be very well paying. His potential client had introduced himself as Mr. Ari, though Matt suspected it wasn’t his real name. They usually weren’t. At the moment, he was more concerned with Mr. Ari’s terms and conditions than with his identity, fake or otherwise.
“This is nonnegotiable,” Ari said firmly. There was no image on-screen, just his computer-altered voice in the earpiece. “I require that my own pilot navigate your ship to destination. He’s the only one who will know the exact route and the details of the mission. I’m merely hiring your ship to transport my man and provide him with assistance.”
“It’s my ship and I’m the only one flying her,” Matt said indignantly. “No way I’ll just let some stranger take over. Now, a passenger, that’s another matter. I’ve nothing against passengers, so long as they’re nice and quiet.” And good-looking, but he wasn’t about to say that to the client’s face, or to the lack thereof, as the case was. But another pilot? This was ridiculous. If the only thing this guy needed was a ship, there were much simpler alternatives than hiring Matt’s services.
“As I’ve said before, Captain, this job requires subtlety and a very specific set of skills,” Ari said. Even with the distortion, he somehow managed to make “Captain” sound like an insult. “Which, with all due respect, I doubt you possess. This is a salvage mission, and the location must remain a secret until you get there. To put it simply, you sit back, let my man do the job, get back safely, and collect the cash—as long as you keep your mouth firmly shut about any of this. I’ve been told that your ship is fast and well equipped, and that you are discreet. I’d hate to think that I’ve been misinformed.”
Matt took a long sip of his beer to stall for time. The beer had a distinct sour artificial aftertaste, but at least it was cold. “What kind of salvage?”
“An abandoned alien site. I’m afraid I can’t divulge further information at this point, other than it would require a jump to another sector.”
“Huh,” Matt grunted. The guy was definitely too well-spoken to be a scavenger; on the other hand, off-world archaeological salvage (if that was indeed Ari’s intent) was usually done for strictly academic purposes and required government permits. Any other form of salvage, whether human or alien, was considered theft and was absolutely illegal. That and some other guy had to fly his ship? There was no way in hell he’d agree to that. This Mr. Ari could either fuck off or pay him way more than he was offering. “Well, you make it sound very tempting and all, but still. A pilot has his pride, you know. No one takes my seat, twenty thousand Fed-creds or no.”
“Name your price,” Ari said tersely.
“One hundred thousand,” Matt said, testing the waters.
“Done,” Ari said with a finality that left Matt a little dizzy. He was sure Ari would balk at the asking price. He wondered belatedly whether he could have gotten away with being even bolder. “My pilot will meet you at Dock G5 in two hours. You’ll get twenty percent of your fee now, and the rest when the job is done.”
“Agreed,” Matt said. How did this guy know exactly where his ship was? Shit, he could hardly back down on the offer now. “I’ll send you the account number.”
“Now, Mr. Spears, I must stress again how delicate this assignment is.”
“Of course,” Matt said. Really, this was tedious. Every client thought they were the only one in the galaxy who had dirty secrets. He wouldn’t have been in this line of work for as long as he had if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and his eyes averted.
“You might encounter…competition,” Ari said. “While this is unlikely to happen, there is a chance that other parties might try to intercept you.”
“What do you mean, ‘intercept’?” Matt asked suspiciously. “Just to make it clear—I’m a runner, not a mercenary. If it’s something dangerous—”
“The reason I’m not willing to be more specific is precisely because I don’t want any information to leak out and pose a threat to your mission,” Ari said, sounding a bit too vague for Matt’s comfort. “However, you should be on alert, and report any incidents to my agent.”
Now he wanted him to report to the guy? Matt was utterly and completely done with reporting to anybody for the rest of his life. He was more than capable of handling any situation, and he wasn’t about to play the chain-of-command game with his client’s representative. However, he kept it prudently to himself. You didn’t sass somebody who was willing to shell out all those credits.
“Got it,” he said dryly. “I’ll be on alert. Anything else?”
“You may discuss further details with my man, and he’ll be handling all future communications. Good luck, Captain.”
“My pleasure,” Matt said. He disconnected the call and sagged back into his chair, pushing away the beer. He had a very, very bad feeling.
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A voracious reader from the age of five, Isabelle Adler has always dreamed of one day putting her own stories into writing. She loves traveling, art, and science, and finds inspiration in all of these. Her favorite genres include sci-fi, fantasy, and historical adventure. She also firmly believes in the unlimited powers of imagination and caffeine.
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