Blaze of Glory (29 page)

The reporters went mad. I didn’t try to answer any one question, choosing to just toss out the information I had prepared.

I put up my hand. “Right now there’s only four left of us from the original team and I invite any super who wishes to join us to contact me after this. We had one member who decided to retire, and we wish him well in his future pursuits.” At least until Limox started to pick a fight and I had to smack his ass down, I added mentally.

I had seen Speedster hanging around in the lobby before the news conference, clutching a notepad in his hand. Maybe he was really a reporter. Go figure. Blockhead had disappeared right after the fight—I had no idea if she would ever resurface.

“I know there are others out there who share our sense of responsibility to defend this world. I call on them to come forth and join our effort to create a fighting force like the world has never seen.”

“What’s this team called?” a voice shouted through the din. It sounded strangely familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

Peter stepped forward, a wide grin on his face as he posed for the cameras. “We’re calling it the Protectors.” He glanced at me sideways, looking for approval. I nodded, glad for the interruption. Stephen let out a loud belly laugh that reverberated around the room, bringing a smile to many faces that had been deadly serious a few seconds earlier. He grinned at Peter who smiled back at us.

“We’re called the Protectors.” The young man stood tall as a large hawk swooped down to land on his shoulder, somehow having gotten into the building. “And if you want to threaten the Earth, you’ll answer to us.”

“Amen,” Hunter whispered, his hand moving up to rest on my waist, pulling me close. The sudden heat stole my breath away.

“We’re going to do what we’re supposed to do.” I smiled into the cameras and the flashing lights and thought of Mike. “We’re going to keep saving the world.”

About the Author

Sheryl Nantus was born in Montreal, Canada and grew up in Toronto, Canada. A rabid reader almost from birth, she attended Sheridan College in Oakville, graduating in 1984 with a diploma in Media Arts Writing.

During her fifteen years of working in private security, she was stationed at the United States Consulate in Toronto as well as many hospitals in the Greater Toronto Area. Needless to say, she saw a lot of interesting things and people from which she draws her characters and situations in her speculative fiction writing.

She met Martin Nantus through the online fanfiction community in 1993 and moved to the United States in 2000 in order to marry. A firm believer in the healing properties of peppermint and chai tea, she continues to write short stories, poetry and novels while searching for the perfect cuppa.

To learn more, please visit
www.sherylnantus.com
.

Look for these titles by Sheryl Nantus

Now Available:

Wild Cards and Iron Horses

Blaze of Glory

Heroes Without, Monsters Within

Coming Soon:

Blaze of Glory

Heroes Lost and Found

Fight alone, die alone.

Heroes Without, Monsters Within

© 2012 Sheryl Nantus

Blaze of Glory, Book 2

In the weeks since Jo “Surf” Tanis and her rough-and-tumble band of super-powered actors broke free of the government-sponsored superhero show, they’re all still dealing with the aftershock of adjusting to this thing called reality.

It doesn’t get much more real than a mission to dig survivors out of what’s left of Erie, PA after a mysterious earthquake. A trembler that powerful is as out of place as Jo feels as the de-facto leader of the troupe. Not to mention the soul-shaking feelings she has for Hunter, a team member whose past as an Agency Guardian casts a heavy shadow over any possible relationship.

It seems one of the supers, an earth-warper named Ground Pounder, has gone rogue, using his freedom from the Agency’s brand of virtual slavery to put the “villain” back in supervillain. Failure to find him before any more innocent bystanders are hurt means the team could be back under the Agency’s thumb.

It’s a burden that doesn’t rest easy on Jo’s shoulders...especially when the man who’s invaded her heart is caught in the crossfire.

Warning: Contains kick-ass super women, super men and a budding romance ready to go into orbit. Also, gambling and Las Vegas buffets!

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Heroes Without, Monsters Within:

“Steve,” I yelled. “Protect the civilians.” I stayed in the air, not daring to let my feet touch the ground. Something was wrong with this attack. This was beyond what Lamarr could do. I just had to survive long enough to figure out what was going on.

“Yes, civilians.” Lamarr chortled. “Can’t let the little people get hurt now, can we?” He looked to one side and flicked his fingers. One of the large steel towers holding up part of the mammoth canopy overhead shifted, the bricks around the bottom of the support bursting like popped balloons.

“Son of a bitch.” I fired off double bolts from my hand as I charged the punk, alternating my shots. One electric bolt shattered the ground just in front of Lamarr, forcing him to stand up and retreat a step.

Steve leapt to his left, landing at the base of the support tower. He wrapped his mammoth arms around it and let out a rumbling groan as he embraced the tilting steel. The silver veins on his arms stretched and twisted, flowing over his skin with the neon lights bouncing off them.

A shout went out, a series of yelps. No, howls. I looked to my left to see a pack of mangy sandy-colored coyotes charging towards Lamarr, their yellowed teeth bared. They leapt up as I laid down another series of blasts, trying to cut off any retreat for the super without shooting the animals. Just one hit would affect him like a taser, short-circuiting his body and dropping the little bastard like a stone.

Of course, I had to hit him first. I swayed sideways, buffeted by strong gusts of wind that couldn’t be natural. It felt like being drunk and trying to shoot the target with the broken popgun at the carnival.

Steve groaned again as he pushed the leaning support down, jamming it past the original cement base. It wobbled for a second before steadying itself. It wasn’t a great solution, but it bought enough time for the rest of the civilians to get out of the way.

Lamarr crouched and pressed his right hand to the ground. A jerk of a finger yanked a stone wall out of the tiles to stop the coyote pack in mid-jump, the poor animals slamming into the barrier at full run. They fell in a dazed heap. One got to his feet and shook his head from side to side, mimicking my inner thoughts. A second later the coyote flew to the right and smashed into a display booth. Glass dragons and tigers crashed and shattered, the tinkling noise of broken glass adding to the mayhem.

Lamarr stood up and looked at me, a sneer on his lips.

“My ride’s here and my job’s done. Later.”

A roaring filled my ears. I spun around to see a small twister, a whirlwind racing down the center of Fremont Street towards me. It snatched up the vending carts, the loose billboards advertising CHEAP BLACKJACK, and garbage cans, whirling them around at a furious rate. Bits and pieces of debris crashed into the lit signs, poking out glass letters and sending sparks everywhere. The smell of burnt plastic grew as it continued its rampage.

“Steve.” I swooped down and grabbed the man’s right hand, pulling him up and away from the base of the pillar. The tower shuddered once but didn’t move. If we could get enough altitude and get clear of the buildings, we could avoid ramming the casinos. Steve had steel skin, but I knew I couldn’t take that sort of impact.

The raging winds slapped against me, making it hard to move upwards. I fought to stay in the center of the street, giving it all I had to avoid falling.

“What is that?” Steve yelled over the rising din.

“I don’t know.” I spotted the coyotes running away in all directions. Some limped and others were bleeding, but no bodies were left behind. I couldn’t imagine how guilty Peter would feel if some of them died.

Lamarr just stood there with an arrogant smirk on his face.

“He’s got something to do with this,” Steve said. His hand tightened around mine, almost painfully so. “Toss me at the little bastard.”

I nodded. We’d discussed this move before but hadn’t even practiced it, leaving it to later. Except that later was now, and there was no room for error. I fought to move forward and get closer to Lamarr. Steve swung at the end of my grip, readying himself to drop like a meteor on the super.

Lamarr glanced up at the approaching whirlwind with a look of reverence on his face. I lifted my other hand, preparing to take a shot at the grinning fool as I readied myself to release Steve.

Something caught me around the waist, a light soft touch that tightened to the point of pain, stopping me in midair. I gasped as I jerked to a stop, calling on my last reserves of strength to stay airborne. Steve hung below me, still clutching my hand.

“Son of a…” Steve exhaled as the unknown force turned us both to face the oncoming storm.

A figure materialized at the center of the spiraling debris, staring at us. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, if that. Tall, blonde and obviously able to manipulate air. Her face spiraled through a series of emotions—fear, panic and for an instant I saw utter confusion make a showing.

I had no idea who she was.

Except that she was a super and not on our side.

My stomach did a flip-flop, threatening to return the creampuff et al in force.

The invisible rope around my waist shifted upward, pushing on my chest. It tightened and started to spin us, quick and fast. I remembered going through something like this before, skating on the local rink and being at the end of a long, long line of skaters, going faster and faster until the momentum snapped me off and away into the boards with bone-crushing force.

I thought about putting down some shots, but there was no way to guarantee I’d hit the woman instead of fleeing tourists. I couldn’t take the risk. Instead, I gritted my teeth and hung onto Steve, my hand lost in his mammoth grip.

The controlled spin stopped with a loud pop, sending us twisting away towards the ground.

The world whirled again with the same sensation as on the skating rink, but I wasn’t going to hit any wooden boards and skid to a stop on a sore and cold ass. A pair of strong arms wrapped across my back, pulling me into a tight hug.

“Hang on,” Steve shouted in my ear as he curled himself around me. He smelt of cigar smoke, whiskey and a bit of sweetness I recognized as cinnamon candy, just before everything went black.

He was born to be a weapon. For her, he must learn to be a hero.

Phoenix Rising

© 2011 Corrina Lawson

The Phoenix Institute, Book 1

Since birth, Alec Farley has been trained to be a living weapon. His firestarter and telekinetic abilities have been honed to deadly perfection by the Resource, a shadowy anti-terrorist organization—the only family he has ever known. What the Resource didn’t teach him, though, is how to play well with others.

When psychologist Beth Nakamora meets Alec to help him work on his people skills, she’s hit with a double-barreled first impression. He’s hot in more ways than one. And her first instinct is to rescue him from his insular existence.

Her plan to kidnap and deprogram him goes awry when her latent telepathic ability flares, turning Alec’s powers off. Hoping close proximity will reignite his flame, she leads him by the hand through a world he’s never known. And something else flares: Alec’s anger over everything he’s been denied. Especially the passion that melds his mind and body with hers.

The Resource, however, isn’t going to let anything—or anyone—steal its prime investment. Alec needs to be reminded where his loyalties lie…starting with breaking his trust in the woman he’s come to love.  

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Phoenix Rising:

“I’m sorry for staring. I’ve haven’t seen your equipment up close before.”

“Hah!” He sat in an easy chair to lace up his boots. “You know you can see my equipment anytime you ask.”

“Um, that’s not quite what I had in mind.” Alec had charmed her. Lansing had been right about that. She hadn’t counted on him being so genuinely interested in her.

At least she’d had the willpower not to touch Alec’s hand and risk that intense jolt of energy a second time. Just being around him was seductive enough.

Alec shrugged at her refusal, walked back to the bed and loaded a clip into his handgun. Some sort of pistol, though she had no idea exactly what kind. Philip would have known. Alec’s eyes narrowed as he double-checked the weapon. For a moment, he was completely the competent military officer.

Satisfied, he set it down and turned to face her. He frowned, on uncertain ground again.

“Did anyone ever show you a life without guns?”

He raised one of those perfect eyebrows, oozing more confidence than ten men. Who wouldn’t have that confidence, if fire literally danced to their command?

“You know, I thought Lansing agreed too quickly to send you. Did he want you to check up on me?”

“No.” But it would be like Lansing to say that he had.

“Hah. I think you’re a bad liar, counselor. A life without guns? That’s the kind of leading question that he uses to test me.”

“I’m not lying.” Not about that. “No, it’s the first time I’ve seen you prepare for a mission. It worries me.” She looked down at the dark carpet and scuffed her feet. “I have doubts about what you’re doing. I think you’re not seeing the big picture.”
Like how your foster father is using you to gain power and influence, at the risk of your life.
“You don’t have to put your gift to this use. There are so many other things you can do that don’t involve violence.”