QSFer A.R. Moler has a new MM fantasy book out: Born Magic. And there’s a giveaway!
Querteshan guardsman Jamal Fayed is on a routine patrol through the desert area known as the Burning when they discover an injured and unconscious man who looks to be from a nearby country, Perathea. Their two countries have a long history of animosity.
When Nev ran from his master, he was fleeing for his life and any outcome seemed better than the death he was promised. But Nev has secrets, complicated secrets that involve both magic and his physical form. Can he build a relationship with Jamal amidst politics and military dealings?
A.R. is giving away an eBook copy of Avoiding Valhalla – just comment below for a chance to win.
Damp and clean, a towel wrapped around his waist, Jamal walked into his room. Nev was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a wooden cup on the mattress in front of him, tipping back and forth. It took Jamal a moment to realize that the cup was hovering a couple of inches above the bed as it wobbled.
Nev looked up, an expression of panic of his face, and the cup dropped to the bed.
“You can do magic,” Jamal said.
Nev was silent, hands clenched.
“It’s cool. Not many have the talent.” Jamal pulled a lightweight thawb from the chest at the foot of his bed.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Nev said.
“Okay.” Jamal dropped his towel and slid the robe over his head. “But why? You think people will beg you to do things for them?”
“I’m not supposed to be capable of magic, but I used it to break the cords that bound me to the post when Kustaa was preparing to sacrifice me. If I’m sent back, he will kill me. Why am I even worrying about why? He will kill me anyway. But it will be worse because I used it against him. I attacked him, he who created me.”
Jamal sat down on the bed beside Nev. “Bhati mentioned that you might be eligible for immigration status. I don’t know what that entails exactly, but try not to panic. If the Captain didn’t bundle you up and ship you back immediately, there’s hope.” He cupped his hand under Nev’s chin and rubbed his thumb along Nev’s jaw.
Nev raised his eyes to meet Jamal’s. His expression was a mix of sorrow and apprehension. He didn’t pull away from Jamal’s touch.
Jamal leaned in a little, not sure if Nev would object. “Can I kiss you?”
A.R. Moler is a chemistry professor at a community college, a homeschooling mom and an avid science fiction fan. She is a devotee of first hand research for her writing whenever possible and to this end has – learned to fire a handgun, been rappelling, ridden with both EMS and the police, flown a helicopter, bought a motorcycle and learned to ride it.
She has traveled to nearly all the places where her stories are set and taken hundreds of photos for documentation. She has been writing since her high school years.