QSFer B L Jones has a new queer superhero urban fantasy out: Novas Got Nerve.
British superheroes, melodramatic Mages, snarky secret agents, one hell of a found family, and a whole load of weird people.
Also, there’s a duck.
This is the painfully bizarre origin story of Rexley Nova.
When Rex was four years old, he became one of the world’s first superhumans.
When Rex turns twenty, he feels the drive to use his scientifically given abilities to protect the world. He leaves home to become a member of the Secret Superhero Security team, alongside three of his friends and Danger City’s own superhero, Polaris.
Rex fights murderous Mages, evil organisations, criminal mafias, his agency appointed psychiatrist, his own anxious brain, and the most frightening of all, his attraction to a certain blue-eyed superhero.
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Excerpt
I barely have enough time to gasp in another breath before Damon’s mouth comes down hard on mine.
Damon kisses me, and my mind goes blank. Damon kisses me, and my brain cells rapidly start to explode, one after the other. Damon kisses me, and I just about lose every curl of sanity I managed to scrape up over the years.
It takes me a few seconds to sort myself out. But when I do, I don’t waste time thinking about all the reasons why this is the world’s shittiest idea. It’s too late for that. Too late for. So many things.
I kiss Damon back, and it’s. It’s. It is. It, just. Really. Is.
Because I didn’t. I didn’t know that it could be. Like. Like this.
It is though. It is.
If I was capable, I might laugh. Loud and hysterical.
Damon’s mouth is warm and wet, and my first coherent thought is his lips are wet because of the blood. I got him with a solid hit to the face earlier. I remember feeling satisfied when blood trickled out of his mouth and dampened his dry lips. We were avoiding hits to the face, yeah, but he left that one wide open. It would have been an insult to ignore it.
My second coherent thought is he doesn’t taste like blood. Not completely. There’s a hint of metallic, sure, yes, and a layer of something vaguely minty. But the rest is all spit. All him. Metal and mint and him. Uniquely Damon.
I make a sound that may or may not be a groan. I admit nothing, Your Honour.
Damon lets out a sound that might be an answering rumble. You’d have to ask him, Officer.
Damon’s fist in my hair tightens to the point of pain again, and I gasp at the suddenness of it. He uses that to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth to take temporary ownership of it. I let him, too caught up in the feel of having him pressed in against me, holding me down and overwhelming every one of my senses.
It happens fast, too fast, and then I’m done, I’m gone. Tipping over the edge and falling. Falling and falling and falling.
All I can feel and taste and think about is Damon. The world could up and disappear on us and I wouldn’t be able to tell you when it happened. Damon is all I know. He’s my new source of heat and light and oxygen, my entire universe reshaping and sharpening to a single point. A single person.
Author Bio
BL Jones is a twentysomething British author who spends all her free time reading and writing and taming her three much younger brothers. She lives in Bristol with a temperamental bunny named Pepsi. She’s been writing stories since she was five, rarely sharing them with anyone except her numerous stuffed animals. BL has had a difficult journey into discovering and accepting her own queerness, and therefore believes that positive, honest, and authentic stories about queer people are very important. She hopes to contribute her own stories for people to have fun with and enjoy.
| Author Website | https://bljonesbooks.wixsite.com/website-2 |
| Author Facebook | https://www.facebook.com/bl.jones.33/ |
| Author Twitter | https://twitter.com/BLJONES18 |