Title: Violent Horizons
Author: Sam Clover
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: 11/01/2022
Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 75800
Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, Action/adventure, aliens, alpha males, bonded, dark, explicit sex, immortal, interspecies, mind control, scientists, sex industry, space/sci-fi
Add to Goodreads
Description
Silas has lived his entire life in a tiny, floating workshop in the ass end of the galaxy with his tinkerer lover. When a tall, dark, and dangerously handsome technophiliac murders his tinkerer in search of a code, Silas is thrown from the only home he’s ever known, out into a universe teeming with monsters.
Stranded and terrified, he’s rescued by a massive Reptilian named Loc with a bad attitude and a well-earned wariness toward anything remotely human. The last thing Loc expects is for a human to worm its way through his defenses. Or for that damn human to lead him on a chase through the galaxy when the charming technophiliac discovers his precious code did not die with the tinkerer.
Violent Horizons
Sam Clover © 2022
All Rights Reserved
For a long time, everything was cold and floaty. Days became months. Months became more. And more would have become forever, but something hit Silas. Hard. Made the floating stop. Made everything heavy.
Very heavy.
A crack resounded so loudly, it jarred his entire being. Something slammed against the cold, and the cold shattered into a million frigid shards.
Silas inhaled with a wheeze and his unpracticed lungs ached in protest. He popped open his eyes, but at first, blackness clouded his vision. Slimy fingers grasped at him. He jerked away. Words filled the air. Harsh, grating words he didn’t understand in a voice he didn’t recognize. Tremors shook through his whole body, and when those slimy fingers wrapped around his arm, he tried to yank away, but this time they wouldn’t budge.
The stranger scooped him up. He let out a strangled squeak and clung to smooth shoulders as he was carried off. Their frame emanated the vaguest warmth, but against his frozen flesh, it burned.
“Please,” he rasped. A bark answered, pried him off, and flung him away.
A scream tore from his throat. He landed hard on his side in something wet and gritty. Pain shot up his spine. His blindness cracked into fuzzy shadows of looming buildings, machines, and distant lights as he pushed himself up onto his trembling hands and knees.
His head hung between his shoulders. The thumps of things lumbering by shook through the ground. Lots of things. Everything smelled, and none of it was familiar. Voices surrounded him, murmuring, shouting, laughing.
Ehsan was gone. None of those voices would be his—no one would call Silas’s name and pull him to safety like he wanted them to, but he kept hoping. Kept expecting to feel those thick fingers wrapping around his thigh.
*
When his vision cleared enough to see, his stomach twisted at the throng of aliens milling by. So many eyes, scales, wings, and tentacles, every color of the rainbow, but washed out by the dim, fluorescent lights.
He rolled his eyes up to the massive metal crates rushing by overhead in the narrow spaces between buildings. Stacks upon stacks of conveyor-belts criss-crossed so high, so layered, whether it was a sky or a ceiling on the other side was beyond him. He’d never been in a room so big and yet so crowded, so cluttered and cramped with people, things, and machines. It was easily a million times more claustrophobic than the tiny capsule he called home.
He pushed himself to his feet. Didn’t seem like he should be able to. He didn’t know how long he’d been trapped in that ice, but it had been long enough, hadn’t it? His muscles should have atrophied at the very least.
He stared down at his trembling legs. Kept a hand against the sticky wall, expecting them to give out, but they didn’t.
When he lifted his gaze, he caught a dark, reptilian humanoid looking his way. A single bright amber eye glared at him from a massive head of slick black scales and spiky ridges. Large fangs glinted under the stark lights, and where its second eye should have been was a mess of scars.
“Hello,” Silas tried, but the roar of the crowd swept his voice away.
The reptilian looked his trembling frame up and down with a smouldering, hooded expression before it swung its big head away and strode off through the crowd.
“Wait!” Silas darted into the stream of strangers. It was tight and smelly, and some were so big they blocked his view of where he was going. A couple grunted at him. Someone snarled, but he squeezed his way through. “Please, can you help me?”
A body bumped his. He spilled out of the crowd, crashed against a brick wall, and dropped onto his side. A big, webbed foot stomped on his fingers. Pain shot up his arm and a shriek popped from his throat.
He scrambled back away along the wall to a nook and curled his legs up against his chest to cradle his aching hand in his knees. It hurt so bad: his hand as well as his head and his heart. What was he supposed to do? What would Ehsan tell him to do? For the life of him, no answer came, and he sat there, rocking himself and staring out, wide-eyed, at the flow of strange bodies bustling by.
Purchase
NineStar Press | Books2Read
Amazon
Sam Clover has been writing for over 15 years on online archives. She started out in the fanfiction community and made the leap over a decade ago into original queer fiction. She has a passion for representation, for kindness, and for encouraging new writers first putting their pen to paper.
She is a pansexual feminist with a penchant for pirates and horror, and she lives waaay up North in Alberta, Canada with her furbabies.
Facebook | Twitter
