My new novella, Finding Refuge, is now available! It’s science fiction with lesbian romance, telepathy, found family, and trauma recovery.
They lost the revolution. But then, they found sanctuary—and hope.
After the fascistic Federated Colonies crushes their interstellar revolt, freedom fighters Talia and Miki have only each other.
Telepathic warrior Talia Avi lost her home planet, her people, and their psychic communion when the FC invaded, but thanks to Miki Boudreaux, she can glimpse a life beyond defeat. Genius engineer Miki lost Talia once to FC captivity and never plans to lose her again.
Miki will risk her life and her freedom to reunite Talia with the escaped remnants of her people, on a mysterious planet far outside of FC control. But the difficult part will be what comes after…when you’ve always been a guerilla at the sharp end of death, how do you learn to make a life?
Can two freedom fighters find refuge at last?
When Talia opened her eyes on her last morning in her cell, the needled bulb which continually fed suppressant drugs into her veins was gone. She lurched to her feet, grabbing at the slick wall when her weakened legs failed to support her. The door slammed open and two Federated Colonies guards stepped smartly inside, their face masks distorting Talia’s reflection. A third and fourth, also armored, seized her arms and hustled her into the corridor, their gloved fingers painfully squeezing her flesh against her bones.
I’m to be executed at last, she thought vaguely. The miasma of drugs clouded her every thought, as well as the remnants of her Damarae telepathy. She’d been in this prison for a long time. She was sure any information she might once have had about Jon Churchill and his dissenter rebellion was long out of date. She hoped her death would be quick.
At the end of a forced walk long enough to make her pant for breath, a door loomed. Head drooping, she didn’t see it until she was hurled at it. It slid open and she fell through, collapsing onto the cold metal floor of another cell, easily identified by its inexorable white lights and tang of bleach and old blood. She tried to lift herself, but her wrists and elbows collapsed beneath her. Someone grasped her shoulder and helped to turn her over.
She defiantly lifted her gaze, staring with utter disbelief into the pale round face of Miki Boudreaux.