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Phoenix Code: New Beginnings – Stefan Pride & Kashel Char

Phoenix Code: New Beginnings - Stefan Pride & Kashel Char

Stefan Pride & Kashel Char have a new M/M dystopian erotic sci-fi romance out: Phoenix Code – New Beginnings.

Greetings humans, it is I Lasitor, your AI and community news broadcaster. This is book one of the New Beginnings series. The most exciting male/male dystopian erotic science fiction and speculations based on future medical science and technology.” 

Meet the men of Phoenix, a carefully selected group of brilliant men, their ingenuity in creating a new civilization that is transformed and improved dystopian male/male community. 

The plot is gripping and dripping buckets full of sexy man love, romance, and escapades only geniuses can have. This content was written with high knowledge of science and medical procedures and will be a treat to those who love correct medical jargon and lingo. Antarctica turned out to be the best place on earth during the apocalypse. And, if you are gay and locked up with only men, well, then life at the bottom of the world inside a glass-domed city sounds like a dream vacation. But not to worry, if you are heterosexual, they have a plan, hmmm, a hole for you too. Written with a multi-POV approach to the primary characters, their struggles and triumphs are only the tip of the iceberg. Discover how a new society with advanced technology is born, new laws are written and an infrastructure, devoid of ethnic, religious, or any other components that have steered the human race thus far, is now history.

But, a nuclear winter is coming…will Phoenix survive?

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“Good morning, citizens of our lovely glass-domed city.

I am Lasitor, your Artificial Intelligence (AI) community news broadcaster. It is now 6 a.m.

The local Antarctic temperatures are −70.6 °F. But don’t worry, the coastal temperatures are almost balmy, expected to reach a searing maximum of 14.0 °F during the summer. The terrain is almost entirely covered by an ice sheet, but beneath is a hidden landscape of mountains, valleys, and plains. Nice to know when you are freezing your butt off.

The sea levels are rising exponentially, the icecaps are melting at an alarming rate and constantly shifting and giving birth to pools of hot water and steam. You can breathe this air, but it is stinky and similar to the dull mist of a fart. Other than that, dear humans, all is peachy.

Breakfast is served until 8 a.m.

Thank you and enjoy your day.”

We are on our own.


“Colonel Dr. McCormick, come to communications immediately, Sir!” Connor’s command was both loud and stressed as it boomed from McCormick’s small personal radio. “Run! Don’t walk,” he added.

Brad McCormick, who had been working on the experimental growing lights in the Agriculture Dome, had been taken aback by the near panicky voice of his second in command, Connor O’Hara. The urgency in his usually soft-spoken voice alarmed Brad, so he went tearing down the long corridor towards the Communication Dome. The energy-saving lights could barely keep up with his pace as his motion initiated the lights’ activation sensors. Finally, he came to a dead halt in front of the shiny metallic door to the Command Center. He waved his hand vigorously so the sensor would hurry up and do its censoring. He took a deep breath calming himself and burst inside as soon as the door slid open. He found his friend and second in command in the Communications Room. The room was designed in the shape of a half-moon, with all white furniture and massive, curved plexiglass screens for the best viewing quality. The pixilation was so fine that one could see a sand flea doing the mambo on top of Tutankhamun’s tomb in Egypt’s Valley of the Kings.

“What is going on, Connor?” Brad asked as he walked with purpose inside.

“Seems we may have a wee problem on our hands. Help me make some sense of all this,” responded Connor. He motioned for the tall American to sit in the chair beside him. Connor was positioned in front of the virtual networking screens, hammering his keyboard furiously without taking his eyes from them.

“What seems to be the problem, besides the fact that you are sitting here looking at an empty room. Is that Houston Headquarters?” Brad asked as he patted the young scientist’s back, taking the seat next to him.

“You’ll recall that I mentioned at dinner last evening I had been unable to contact Houston for our bi-weekly report. I put it off as being the result of some significant solar flares initially. The more I thought about the flare rationale, the more it didn’t make sense with the new communications technology. So I decided first thing this morning to attempt new contact efforts. At first, it was the same, just a black screen and static. Then Marcia Merrick appeared on the screen, and I’m telling you, she looked like bloody fucking hell. She started rambling, running her words together some of the time and screeching at other times about a pandemic. She managed to tell me to wait, saying she had to go but would get someone to speak to me, and then she turned and ran to the door in the back of the room. That is what we are looking at now. I’ve been holding for about fifteen minutes, but I just had this bad feeling, and I thought it wise to call you immediately.” Connor explained to Brad while remaining as calm and factual as he could.

“This is all very strange, Connor. I suggest we get Mika Romanov in here as well. This probably concerns all of us, but for now, just get Mika and the boys; I want them to feel in the loop,” directed Brad, referring to his son Simon and his college buddy Paul Chevalier. Both boys were selected as interns at the Antarctica facility due to their high academic standing.

“Good idea! I just wanted to be clear with you before I got others involved.” Connor said even as he picked up the pager and ordered the three men to the communications room, stat. In a matter of minutes, the two boys entered from the passage which led to the enormous dining facility. Simon, tall at six-foot-two and athletically built, led the way. He was closely followed by Paul, who was so strikingly handsome with his ebony hair and pale skin that academia’s elite was often dismissive of him until whittled down to size by his brilliance. The two had been inseparable since meeting at the age of ten at an exclusive school for the academically gifted.

A fraction of a second later, Doctor Mika Romanov, a Russian geneticist, geologist, medical doctor, physicist, and linguist, entered from the corridor that led to the subterranean entryway. Mika had proven himself to be an integral part of the scientific team over the past several months. He had been procured by Dr. John Saunders. The latter had been impressed by his research and publications in various scientific journals. The young Russian tended to be loud and often opinionated, but his laugh was infectious and his smile completely disarming. The thirty-year-old Mika stood at six feet eight inches tall. He sported a luscious mane of shoulder-length white-blond hair that contrasted handsomely with his dark, closely shaven beard, which consistently appeared to be in a state of stubble. His accent was thick, but his command of English and six other languages was impressive.

Author Bio

Stefan Pride has been writing since he was in grade school. It was while attending university in NYC he developed a love of m/m romance. After earning his undergraduate degree he did his master’s studies at the University of Michigan. Finding that writing m/m fantasy was a great way to relieve stress, he continued his writing while living with his two dogs in California, Texas, and now in the mountains of Arizona.

Kashel resides in the southern parts of the Rocky Mountains of BC, Canada. Co-writer and author of dark and ominous characters. They are twisted with a dash of humor. They live in worlds peppered with erotic taboo subjects and they struggle and strive for a life filled with pleasure and freedom. Who doesn’t?

Their stories are centered around gay characters and they reflect on not only Kashel’s wild and erotic imagination but also pieces from their day-to-day life.

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