Wild Cards and Iron Horses

by Sheryl Nantus

  “Oh, that’s bad.” Gil looked up from where he was half-hidden in the innards of an equimech. Pulling himself free, he displayed a long iron nail, held carefully between his thumb and index finger. “Found it.”

  The proud announcement brought Jon to a standstill, still balancing gingerly on one foot.

  “Don’t let it go.” Sam sprinted across the room, ignoring her husband’s contortions. “If you drop it, we’ll have to tear the thing apart.”

  Jon laughed, moving closer. “I’ve got it.” Reaching out with his right hand, he tapped the spring with his index finger, snagging it with the magnetic tip. It swung free from the young boy’s grip, firmly held against the light metal brace.

  “Good work, Gil.” Sam pulled up beside him, wiping the sweat from her face with the back of her hand. “Now see if you can find the left spring gasket. That’s up next.”

  “No problem.” The youngster bent over and down again into the dark interior of the metal horse.

  Jake walked in from the other room, clutching a newspaper in his hand. The wooden prosthetic hung loosely from his right shoulder, filling out the sleeve of his shirt and ending in a single large hook.

  “Paper’s saying that the coach lines are expanding into the Free Nation. They signed the contract with the Injuns, done a diplomatic deal and all.” He let out a giddy laugh. “They’re going to need more of these, that’s for sure.”

  “Good.” Sam winced as she scraped the white-gold wedding band along the edge of the steel plates.

  “Damn.” She inspected the scratched and weathered ring. “I’m still getting used to wearing this.”

  Jon held up his own left hand, displaying its match with a grin. “Regrets already?”

  “None.” She moved in front of him. “None at all. Although if you break that brace, I’ll have to charge you for the repairs. Again.” Tossing her ponytail behind her, Samantha let out a dramatic huff. “Probably not as much as the first, since this one is made with domestic parts, but still…”

  He chewed on his bottom lip before replying, “I’m a poor man, Sam. I have to work for my money now.” The deep sorrowful look expanded over his face. “Would you, perhaps, consider taking something in trade?” His right hand reached behind her, tucking itself into the small of her back and sliding just under the thick leather belt holding her work pants up.

  “I might. Or maybe I’ll offer to play poker with you.” She laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

  “I’m pretty sure I know all your tells by now.”

  Jon let out a melodramatic sigh. “That you do, my love, that you most definitely do.” He swooped in for a kiss, stealing away any response she might have had.

  Gil groaned as he reappeared from inside the equimech, shaking his head at the sight. “Are they always going to be doing that?”

  Jake laughed, rapping the side of the steel horse with his hook. “Get used to it, boy. Get used to it.”

  About the Author

  Sheryl Nantus was born in Montreal, Canada and grew up in Toronto, Canada. A rabid reader almost from birth, she attended Sheridan College in Oakville, graduating in 1984 with a diploma in Media Arts Writing.

  During her fifteen years of working in private security, she was stationed at the United States Consulate in Toronto as well as many hospitals in the Greater Toronto Area. Needless to say, she saw a lot of interesting things and people from which she draws her characters and situations in her speculative fiction writing.

  She met Martin Nantus through the online fanfiction community in 1993 and moved to the United States in 2000 in order to marry. A firm believer in the healing properties of peppermint and chai tea, she continues to write short stories, poetry and novels while searching for the perfect cuppa.

  To learn more, please visit www.sherylnantus.com.

  Look for these titles by Sheryl Nantus

  Now Available:

  Blaze of Glory

  Saving the world is easy for a superhero—unless you’re a fraud.

  Blaze of Glory

  © 2010 Sheryl Nantus

  Jo Tanis is a superhero, fighting evil on the city streets, using her ability to feed off electromagnetic energy and fire off charges—and it’s all just a show. The Agency captures her and others like her when their powers begin to manifest, pitting them against each other in staged, gladiatorial fights. An explosive implant on the back of her neck assures she’ll keep right on smiling for the camera and beating up the bad guys.

  When Earth comes under attack, suddenly the show becomes deadly real. Unable to deal with a real alien, the “supers” are falling in droves. Millions of innocent civilians are going to die…unless Jo can cobble together a team from among the fake heroes and villains the Agency enslaved. Including Hunter, who not only promises to show her how to deactivate the implants, but seems to know more than he should about how the mysterious Agency operates.

  Forcing a rag-tag bunch of former enemies to work together is the least of Jo’s problems. The trick is determining if Hunter is friend or foe—and becoming the hero everyone thought she was before the world is destroyed for real.

  Warning: Contains superhero in-jokes, Canadiana and large alien craft shaped like avocados. Really.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Blaze of Glory:

  “When we arrived at the training facility we were given a choice—to be heroes or villains.” My smile appeared, despite the mood. “Couldn’t pass up the chance to be a star.”

  “Who would decide to be a villain?” David pressed his lips together tightly as he helped himself to one of the sandwich triangles.

  I shrugged. “People with issues. People who didn’t want to play nice. It was a whole psychological thing, I didn’t ask.” My hand went to the back of my neck, to the scar tissue. “Long story made short, the Agency controlled us with this. Gave the power to our Guardians to blow our heads off if we started getting ornery or if we tried to run away.”

  “Your Guardian?” both Jessie and David asked at the same time.

  “Mike.” A dull ache started in my chest as I spoke. “He was my Guardian. Had a special wristband that could set this thing off.”

  “But he’s…” David paused, probably out of concern for my feelings.

  “He’s dead.” The words sounded flat to my ears. “I know. But the Agency can still activate it long-distance, which is why I need you to turn this damned thing off. The bastards thought of everything—well, except for this, obviously.”

  “Right.” Jessie walked back to the computer. He rested his elbows on the desk, smirking. “We’ve got the GPS figured out. Jammer is on the way courtesy of a friend of mine.” He threw me a saucy wink. “Used to work in a chop shop. Until you find the chip to toss it out you have to jam it.”

  “Don’t tell me too much.” I chuckled. “And the plug itself?”

  His face went solemn. “Well, that’s another whole different ball of wax. I’ve got some ideas, but let me check out some things before I present them to you. Don’t have that many surgeons on my list, but I’ve got the word out.” Jessie’s voice dropped an octave. “Do you think they’d really kill you?”

  “They’ve already been popping heads today.” I nodded towards David. “I saw the news reports of heroes and villains dying without even getting into the fight. That’s not from the aliens, that’s the Agency.”

  David frowned, biting down on his lower lip. “Why would they do that?”

  “Because no one wants to fight a battle you’re going to lose. Even the villains aren’t that stupid.” The mental image of Tan, lying there gasping his last breath, came to the forefront of my mind’s eye. “They must have said no and their Guardians pulled it. You refuse to fight, you get your plug pulled.” I waved a hand in the air. “And don’t get any ideas about us being patriotic or anything like that. It’s one thing to go into a fixed battle and another to go to what looks like certain death.” My throat felt tight. “If I had known what was going on before we left, I might
have tried to talk Mike out of it.”

  “Then he would have killed you,” Jessie growled.

  “Maybe. Guess I’ll never know now.” I closed my eyes, trying not to think about the hundreds of times I had run that scenario through my mind.

  “That’s murder, no matter how you explain it away,” David said in a low, sad tone. “Especially when this Agency is supposed to be helping us fight these aliens. Killing supers who won’t fight is just…” He fell silent, unable to find the words.

  “Which is another whole problem.” I gestured towards the laptop. “Everyone thought that our arranged fights were real, right?” I continued without waiting for the two men to respond. “So what if someone or something monitoring our transmissions thought the same thing?”

  The redhead at the desk shrugged. “Probably think that you were the hot stuff like we all did.” He blushed, his attention on the computer screen.

  “So they figured that they’d take you on and win.” David rocked back and forth on the couch. “But then why stop?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “Why stop? I mean, they’ve retreated back into their ships and are just hovering there, waiting.” He smacked his lips together. “Not a wise move if you want to invade a planet. Take out the top defenders and start moving your ground troops in, get the boots on the ground. Instead they’re just sitting there. Not a very good military position to take.”

  “Thank goodness for that much.” Jessie hummed under his breath. “There should be a parcel at the front door in a few minutes.”

  David got to his feet. “I’m assuming I don’t need to sign for it.”

  “Better if you don’t.” Jessie chuckled. “Just bring it right up here and we’ll kick it into gear.”

  I shifted my position on the thin cushions. “Think this is going to work?”

  “Of course.” The smug tone in his voice had me laughing.

  “Thank your buddies for me.” Getting to my feet, I stretched out my arms, shaking the sleep out of them. The snap, crackle and pop as I arched my back startled me, reminding me that I was off my routine.

  Big time. Mike had always been keen on our daily exercises. He’d be pissed I’d forsaken them for a nap.

  Course we’d never talked about keeping up a routine in the middle of an alien invasion.

  Jessie stared at the screen, chewing on the inside of his mouth before speaking. “You ever want to quit?”

  “Every day,” I whispered. “Every fucking day.”

  The silence hung in the air between us, the sudden tightening in my chest reminding me that I had a lot to make up for.

  “It’s here.” David’s excited voice reverberated up the stairs. Jessie smiled as I walked to the steps and reached down to help the elderly man up.

  “You should tell your friends to have better manners.” He wagged a finger at Jessie before tossing him the small box wrapped in plain brown paper. “Bike messenger drove up and threw it at me. Left without even saying a word.” He sat on the couch.

  “I’ll make a note.” Jessie ripped the paper off the box and tore the flaps open. “This should at least keep you off the radar for the time being.”

  The small black box was no more than three inches by two inches, the size of a cigarette pack with nothing more than a switch at one end. He toggled the metal stick and passed it to me. “Now you’re good.”

  I looked at it. “Seriously?” Turning it over and over, I weighed it in my hand. “Pretty light.”

  “Have to be. You’ll need to keep that within thirty feet of your transmitter to maintain the cloaking.”

  Jessie beamed, putting his feet up on the empty chair and rocking back, hands behind his head.

  “Don’t get too smug. If we’re lucky, the Agency hasn’t caught their collective breath and no one knows I’m here.” I tucked the box into the pocket of my leather jacket, over my heart. Good place for it.

  “Now, what about the plug?”

  “That…” he waved a finger in the air, “…can be dealt with.” His attention turned back to the laptop screen. “The problem here is that we don’t know the frequency it runs on. A GPS is one thing—we can get that info easy. But this, this is a bit more complicated.” A weak smile appeared on his face. “But they’re working on it. And by they I mean medical professionals looking to get a paper out of it at some point, so don’t be too shy.”

  I shrugged. “If we survive this, they can get a whole damned manual out of it. Right now I’m running on borrowed time.” My right hand tapped the plastic case in my pocket. “And this is going to help convince them of that.”

  “Good.” David reached for one of the juice cartons. “Now, what are you going to do?”

  I drew a deep breath. “What I’m supposed to do. I’m going to save the world.”

  When anger and tenacity collide, sparks are inevitable.

  Devils on Horseback: Lee

  © 2010 Beth Williamson

  Devils on Horseback, Book 4

  The Civil War took more than Lee Blackwood’s arm. It took his confidence, his pride…and hope that any woman will see him as more than half a man. His friendships helped keep the demons at bay—until now. As each Devil has found happiness, Lee is left alone to cope with the darkness that claws at his soul.

  Genevieve Blanchard has only one thing going for her: her no-good late husband’s run-down farm.

  That, and a fancy name no one can spell might get her a cup full of dirt in Tanger. Room, board and seamstress skills aren’t much, but it’s all she can offer any man willing to help her bring in her wheat crop.

  Reluctantly Lee takes on the job, the widow’s smart-mouthed daughter and his growing attraction to a woman who stubbornly refuses to see him as anything less than whole. Slowly, his bitterness begins to fade under the light of their blooming love.

  Warning: Y’all will fall in love with this stubborn cowboy, cheer for his strong woman, and get caught up in plenty of fightin’, lots of makin’ up, bone-meltin’ sex and forever kinda romance.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Devils on Horseback: Lee: As she dried herself, Genny resisted the urge to linger over her painfully hard nipples. After hearing the noise outside, she had the silly fantasy that Lee had been observing her bathe. She even took extra time getting undressed to prolong the game for herself. The foolish thing was, she wanted him to actually be there. Her body still throbbed with the hum of arousal from watching him, fantasizing about him.

  Playing sexual games really wasn’t like her, and that’s what bothered her the most. There weren’t many things throughout her life that were under her control, but one of them had always been her physical reactions, particularly to men. Henry was a shitty lover, selfish and clumsy. Genny hadn’t gotten a single moment of pleasure from having sex with her husband at all. It was like one of her farm chores, boring but necessary. Her experience before Henry had been horrific, the stuff of nightmares she still experienced now and again.

  She shook her head to dislodge the dark feelings that always overtook her when she started thinking about Camille. She’d promised herself when she moved to Tanger that she’d stop thinking about her life before Texas, the squalor she’d been used to, and the disregard for human beings she witnessed daily as a child. Nothing about the farm reminded her of the dark street in New Orleans so there was no need to dwell on it.

  No, she’d much rather remember why she’d been aroused in the bathtub in the first place. Truthfully, she had never experienced pleasure with a man, only by her own hand.

  Right now though, she ached for release. One day with Lee and she was fantasizing about being intimate with him, without even a smidge of interest from him. He grunted, answered in one syllable or ignored her. There was no rhyme or reason to her body’s apparent infatuation with the man. It should set off warning bells inside her.

  Genny couldn’t risk being distracted by a man when she needed to focus on getting the wheat crop in.

  Too much depended
on her keeping her mind and her body on that task and not on Lee Blackwood. She knew her options with men were limited, even if widows had the freedom to choose a bed partner. Until the blond one-armed man had swaggered into her life, there hadn’t been a man she would choose.

  As an intelligent, strong woman with needs, sometimes she just had to let herself feel. And at that moment, she was feeling quite a bit. As the towel rubbed across her skin, it pebbled up, sending shivers through her. God how she wished it was a calloused hand instead of the rough material. She could look for him, but knew it wasn’t a good idea even if her mind raced with the possibility of what would happen if she found him. What would happen if he was just as willing as she was.

  A shiver wracked her body at the thought. No matter how much she wanted to, it just wasn’t a good idea, and that was that. With something like remorse, she picked up her nightdress to put it on. A small knock at the door had her jumping out of her skin.

  Heart pounding, she had to swallow before she answered. She knew who it was, yet she called out anyway. “Who is it?”

  There was a pause. “It’s Lee Blackwood. I, uh, wondered if you were done with the tub. I can empty it and take it out for you.”

  He sounded strange, almost talkative, and she hadn’t yet heard him speak so fast either. Perhaps her fantasy wasn’t hers alone. Tingles raced through her at the thought and a single heavy throb resounded in her lower belly.

  “Not yet. About five more minutes.”

  The sound of boots scraping on the wooden porch sounded outside the door. “Well, okay. I’ll just sit a spell out here and wait then.”

  Her pulse pounded through her veins as she stared at the door, knowing he stood on the other side. All she had to do was open it and ask him in, her nude body the only invitation required. Dampness coated her pussy as she trembled with a nearly overwhelming arousal. She needed him quite badly at the moment.

  What would be the harm? She was a widow and he wasn’t married—a perfectly acceptable arrangement done all the time, discreetly of course. Folks in town, including Hettie and her posse, had to know Lee was there with her alone. They’d never openly shunned her, but they also never opened their arms to Genny or Sophie. Part of that was because Henry had been such an ass he put people off. However, part of it was the fact Genny appeared one day at his side, wide-eyed and angry with a wedding band on her