QSFer Michele Notaro has a new queer sci fi book out:
If you’re reading this, I hope that means that we’ve survived, but after everything I’ve seen, I’m sure that’s only wishful thinking…
This is my story… a story of what happens when you trust an alien race. A race that lived peacefully with humans for over two years, but something suddenly changed. When all hell breaks loose, can we count on the Taoree to step up and help or could they be the real cause of all the terror?
Three of my friends and I try to make our way back home to our families, but there’s chaos at every turn. We can trust no one; we only rely on each other. And even though we work together, nothing can stop the heartbreak and terror that surrounds us.
Before you judge me, ask yourself this: When there’s danger at every turn and nowhere safe to hide, what would you do to keep you and yours alive? Some of us won’t survive… What will happen to those of us that are left behind?
Taoree is Book One in the Taoree Trilogy and is meant to be read as part of a series. This book ends on a cliffhanger, but there is a promise of a happy ending at the end of the trilogy.
***WARNING: This book is recommended for ADULTS ONLY. It is rather gruesome, so if you don’t like violence, death, blood, and the like, don’t read it. There’s also explicit language, as well as romance and graphic sexual content between two male characters.***
Taoree Trilogy Book One
We walked for half the day without running into anyone. Well, there were plenty of dead bodies strewn throughout yards, hanging out of cars, and just about every other place you could think of. My tolerance of the dead had grown quite exponentially since the finger incident that morning.
Around midday, I stopped walking when I saw a little movement across the street in a large field up ahead. When I pointed it out, the guys and I walked cautiously closer. If it was someone that needed our help, we couldn’t simply walk away.
I stopped short when I figured out what I was seeing.
“Is she eating him?” Nolan whispered from somewhere close by.
“It… it looks like it,” Cal mumbled. There was a woman crouched down on top of a dead man and she was, well, she was eating his guts.
“Oh god. I’m gonna be sick… again,” Nolan said.
The Feral snapped her head up in our direction and suddenly sprinted toward us with blood dripping out of her mouth. She started getting faster, running at full speed, so I took the gun out of my waistband and held it out.
“Stop or I’ll shoot,” I called to her. Even though I knew it wouldn’t make a difference, I had to at least try. She was still—sort of—a human being.
She kept running, so I aimed for her chest and pulled the trigger. I missed the first shot—it had been a while since our dads had taken us shooting—but I re-aimed and took the shot, this time hitting her in the chest. But she didn’t stop, she just stumbled back from the force, then took off running again.
I shot her in the chest three more times, but nothing was bringing her down. When she was less than ten feet away I yelled, “We might wanna run now.”
I took a step back, but Cal came out of nowhere, stepping in front of me and swinging the metal bat with two hands at the Feral’s head. He knocked her down, but she was still twitching, so he swung the bat again, crushing her skull into the ground with a sickening thunk. He hit her head twice more, making that same thunk sound each time.
Cal turned to me with blood splatters on his hands, arms, and face, and said, “Next time, aim for the head. Haven’t you ever seen a zombie movie?”
Then he walked away a few steps, bent over and vomited. I guess we were all entitled to a little vomit when the situation warranted. I chose not to look at Colt or Nolan’s faces in case they were feeling as sick as I was.
When Cal was done being sick, I walked over and handed him a water bottle, which he took gratefully as I said, “But they’re not zombies.”
“I know that. But whatever those alien assholes are doing to people, obviously makes them harder to kill.” He shrugged, then examined his bat. He wrinkled his nose. “I’m gonna wipe this off in the grass.”
I nodded at his back when he walked away, but called to him, “Thanks for saving me.”
He waved me off. “No prob.”
Colt walked over to me, looking a little green around the gills and said, “I think we need more bats.”
All I could do was nod and grimace as we watched his brother trying to wipe the gore off his weapon. When he finished, he swung the bat up to rest on his shoulder, then walked past us without a word. He probably needed some time to deal with the fact that he’d just killed a person.
Colt and I followed him, but I turned to make sure Nolan was okay. I nodded at him to join us, so he came up on the other side of me, the three of us following behind Cal.
After a while, Nolan asked, “Why do you think it was eating that guy?”
I didn’t have an answer to that, but Colt said, “I guess the Ferals are getting hungry. Or maybe the Taoree ordered them to do it or something. Who knows?”
“Let’s just not think about it,” I suggested.
No one objected to that. There was enough horror to distract us everywhere we looked, anyway.
A minute later, I felt Colt place his hat on my head, and when I looked at him questioningly, he said, “You’re getting sunburned.”
“Thanks,” I said as I reached up to place it back on his head, “but now you’ll get burned too, so take it back.”
“No can do, my friend,” he said, pushing the proffered hat away from himself. “You may as well as wear it, Jeremy, because I’ll just put it in my bag if you give it back.”
I rolled my eyes, but conceded by putting it back on and mumbling, “You’re fucking stubborn.”
He just winked at me.
A couple of hours later, we were in a very crowded, city-like area where there were masses of dead bodies. It seemed like the people here didn’t have much warning to get away before the Ferals and aliens started massacring them. There was a ton of blood, body parts… and so many dead eyes.
Michele is married to an awesome husband that puts up with her and all the characters in her head—and there are many. They live together in Baltimore, Maryland with their two young boys and two crazy dogs. She grew up dancing and swimming and taught dance—ballet, tap, jazz, hip hop, & modern—for ten years before her kids came along. Now she stays home to write about the sexy men in her head and does PTA everything—as long as coffee is involved. Two other tattooed moms run the PTA with her, and though she wants to rip her hair out from it, she still loves it.
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