The Nut Job Snippet

It's hard to believe I have another release coming up already. Between life, work and everything else, my schedule for stories is pretty slow. BUT, as you can see, another story for you guys to enjoy. The Nut Job is a novella-length SF story in the Foolish Encounters anthology. As you may have noted, I am in good company with Tali Spencer, Tinnean, Elin Gregory, JC Wallace, Angel Martinez and Amy Lane also taking part in our quirky romp. 

I thought it would be fun to introduce everyone to Spencer, my space captain with a Napoleon complex. The unsuspecting world may not be ready for him, but Spencer and the rest of his crew hits shelves April 1st. Enjoy!

The Chair & Fork Excerpt

“It’s still there, Spence.”

He bit down on his lip, giving Krapor side eyes.

The tall, lanky Tu’Varian glowered back. “Rcrred is gone and can’t take your damn chair.”

“Fine, but if it’s gone, I’m taking your new sonic screwdriver.”

Krapor paused in his gathering. His slender green fingers went to his work belt, cupping the screwdriver protectively. “You wouldn’t.”

Spencer crossed his arms, straightening up to his whole four and a half feet. It was shiny. He liked shiny.

“That’s just mean, Spence. I’d never find it again.”

He sniffed, looking away.

“No one can find anything in your hoard. Not even you.”

“I know exactly where everything is.”

Krapor tossed the handful of walnut hulls into the bin. “Oh yeah? Where’s that ornate metal fork you picked up on Irasol?”

“Left cubby, on the third row of the sixth rack on my north wall, in the orange plastic cup.”

The birds tweeted, several crickets made themselves known, the breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. Spencer continued checking his square of the forest floor, chucking half the yellowish-green walnuts hulls in the bins while pocketing the rest in his pouch he kept on hand for such occasions.

Only when Spencer looked up did he acknowledge Krapor, who was staring at him, slack-jawed.

Incredulous bastard. “What?”

“I can’t believe you can just spout off bullshit like that. You little sqoltal.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your quarters are the definition of complete chaos. They have a picture of it in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe. Do not enter—danger zone. Dozens of safety regulations are broken in it, with a pukey rainbow as its permanent guest on your ceiling. There is no way you can know where that fork is.”

---