Skye Entity

Orren Merton
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After first contacting Earth for assistance with his failing vessel, Skye lands with much fanfare at Edwards Air Force Base in Southern California in 2025. He needs to repair it before he runs out of energy in a few short weeks.
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About the author

Orren Merton started writing fantasy and science fiction at an embarrassingly young age, mostly for his own amusement. In 2001 he began to write and edit music software related articles, manuals, and books for magazines, music software and instrument creators, and corporations. His music technology articles have appeared in magazines and online in Electronic Musician, Computer Music UK, Music Tech Magazine, MIX, Cubase.net and Gearwire.com. His music articles and reviews have been published nationally and internationally, online and off in Dark Angel, OC Weekly, and The Scene LA. His Industrial rock group, Ember After, released their debut album, Grasping At Straws, in 2008, and his first novel was published two years later. He lives in Southern California with his family, pets, collection of sci-fi/fantasy memorabilia, and curiously large stuffed animal collection.

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Additional Information

Publisher
Orren Merton
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Published on
Jun 5, 2013
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Pages
340
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ISBN
9780983023661
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Features
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Language
English
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Genres
Fiction / Science Fiction / General
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Content Protection
This content is DRM free.
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Read Aloud
Available on Android devices
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Eligible for Family Library

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Smith was stolen away in the night, to be sacrificed to the great Julhi a mysterious being who controlled the denizens of Vonng.excerptThe tale of Smith's scars would make a saga. From head to foot his brown and sunburnt hide was scored with the marks of, battle. The eye of a connoisseur would recognize the distinctive tracks of knife and talon and rayburn, the slash of the Martian drylandercrwg, the clean, thin stab of the Venusian stiletto, the crisscross lacing of Earth's penal whip. But one or two scars that he carried would have baffled the most discerning eye. That curious, convoluted red circlet, for instance, like some bloody rose on the left side of his chest just where the beating of his heart stirred the sun-darkened flesh....In the starless dark of the thick Venusian night Northwest Smith's pale steel eyes were keen and wary. Save for those restless eyes he did not stir. He crouched against a wall that his searching fingers had told him was stone, and cold; but he could see nothing and he had no faintest idea of where he was or how he had come there. Upon this dark five minutes ago he had opened puzzled eyes, and he was still puzzled. The dark-piercing pallor of his gaze flickered restlessly through the blackness, searching in vain for some point of familiarity. He could find nothing. The dark was blurred and formless around him, and though his keen senses spoke to him of enclosed spaces, yet there was a contradiction even in that, for the air was fresh and blowing.He crouched motionless in the windy dark, smelling earth and cold stone, and faintly-very faintly-a whiff of something unfamiliar that made him gather his feet under him noiselessly and poise with one hand against the chill stone wall, tense as a steel spring. There was motion in the dark. He could see nothing, hear nothing, but he felt that stirring come cautiously nearer. He stretched out exploring toes, found the ground firm underfoot, and stepped aside a soundless pace or two, holding his breath. Against the stone where he had been leaning an instant before he heard the soft sound of hands fumbling, with a queer, sucking noise, as if they were sticky. Something exhaled with a small, impatient sound. In a lull of the wind he heard quite distinctly the slither over stone of something that was neither feet nor paws nor serpent-coils, but akin to all three.
So, what if you're Jonathan Prophet, a widower, a father (three beautiful girls, including 8-year-old twins), and a deputy sheriff in Vidalia County, Georgia, and it's been a hot summer Sunday on roadblock duty at the Flint River Bridge looking for escaped cons from state correctional, and this mother of all thunderstorms blows up to break the drought, and you're left alone when your partner takes a Code Seven to go for burgers, and this UFO barrels in through the downpour twenty feet over your head and smashes into the red Georgia clay and you think that taking a close look might change your life? WHAT IF YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT? And what if it turns out you're NOT just an ordinary guy trying to make it, but instead you have this incredible talent that makes you unbelievably valuable to certain people, and you land yourself in this really bad situation, and all your courage and training and luck aren't enough to prevent the worst from happening? WHAT IF SOMEBODY TAKES YOUR DAUGHTERS? And what if you're in the middle of somebody else's war, trying to get your girls back, and you wind up in Camp David trying to convince the President of the United States that his worst nightmares have come true? And what if you bring this gorgeous female person with you, and that person does something awful, in spite of the Secret Service and all the Marines in the world? And what if, before it's over, you put everything you value in deadly perilOCoyour life, your country, even the future of the human race itselfOCojust to get your girls back? THEN WHAT, JONATHAN PROPHET? THEN WHAT? For an author bio and photo, reviews and a reading sample, visit bosonbooks.com."
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