Sex, Drugs and Cyberpunk Book One
By: Brie McGill
Beaten to a pulp, drugged into a daze, and brainwashed into oblivion, human experiment Lukian Valentin gambles his life to evade another eviscerating afternoon with his trigger-happy superiors. Fifty stories of a maximum-security building and hundreds of trained special operatives can’t hold a candle to his will to escape. Beyond the laser bars of his holding cell, Lukian must surmount the even greater challenges of repairing the fragments of his broken mind, forgiving himself for his unwilling involvement with the Empire, and learning what it means to live on his own.
The sassy and commanding Naoko Nai wonders just what to do with the soft-spoken, socially awkward, and totally ripped guy she was assigned to train for employment. She knows nothing else about him, other than the fact he was granted asylum, is great with a knife, and his little white apron gives her distinctly unprofessional thoughts.
When the Empire comes to collect, Naoko unwittingly provides the perfect bait to reel Lukian back to headquarters for a fresh series of brain implants and repair.
To save the woman he loves, Lukian must summon the deadly powers implanted in him by the Empire—powers he fears he can’t control, powers he struggled to forgive himself for using, powers that may drive Naoko away forever—because no ordinary man has struck a blow against the Empire and lived to tell the tale. To save Naoko, Lukian must emerge victorious from the battle against himself.
Link to Follow Tour: http://tastybooktours.blogspot.com/2013/12/now-booking-tasty-virtual-book-tour-for_4.html
Doctors suspect Brie developed an overactive imagination during childhood to cope with the expansive corn maze known as rural Pennsylvania. Unable to afford an operation to have the stories surgically removed from her brain, she opted instead to write them down.
Brie currently lives in British Columbia with her boyfriend and naughty black cat, somewhere not too far from the sea. She enjoys trips to the local farm, chatting with her long-distance friends on a rotary phone, and roflstomping video games from the nineties.
Brie’s favorite storytellers include Anne Rice, George Orwell, and Hunter S. Thompson.
Lukian’s back stiffened. Instantly recognizing his voice, he squinted his eyes and balled his hands into tight fists, wishing bitterly to vanish. His blood turned to ice.
It was Krodha Tempestus, his therapist, a half-cocked, raging dynamo whose hot-headed brutality in battle won him a flimsy, nondescript shred of superior ranking, which he loved to flaunt and abuse at every opportunity.
Use it or lose it, Krodha had said.
Lukian was about to lose it. Not Krodha. Not now!
He heard the heavy steps moving toward him: Lukian sucked in a breath. He wanted to disappear, to die. He heard the boots stop behind him, his funeral parade.
“I said, yo! Valentin.” Krodha rammed an electrified kluzein baton into the back of his shoulder.
Lukian struggled to subdue his body’s automated, spastic response. In a world devoid of mercy, Lukian honed the skill to mask his pain.
Largely. Mostly. He grimaced. He fought against it.
“Valentin.” Krodha crouched and crooned into his ear, slipping an arm around Lukian’s shoulder. “Where’s your sense of humor? You know these toys are harmless.”
“Good morning, Krodha.” Lukian glimpsed over his shoulder, noticing Krodha’s mad black curls, and his eyes, colder than the endless miles of frozen sea trapping him on this continent. He hated that he was expected to speak to him, as a healthy relationship with one’s therapist was a token of good mental health, looked favorably upon by the Empire.
“You ought to try smiling in the morning.” Krodha raised an eyebrow, crossing massive arms across his chest. “You wouldn’t want to set a bad example for our freshly transferred patriot, would you? It’s been a while since our last session together.”
Lukian spun around to face the man accompanying Krodha, and gulped with surprise: the newcomer was a free birth, a genetic wildcard not forced to any state-prescribed standards. Lukian marveled at his enigmatic, obsolescent features: wild red hair, serpentine eyes, freckles, a curiously triangular face, and sprightly build.
“This man is called Aiden Blaine.” Krodha gestured to the dazzling stranger. “He was assigned to be your new roommate: I suggest you be a good patriot and show him the ropes. Eh, Valentin?”
“Lukian Valentin.” Lukian stood to shake his hand and offer a salute, swooning at the sight of his kaleidoscopic variance, the countless and dazzling imperfections that made Aiden larger than life, a caricature of everything he thought meant to be human. Aiden was from another world, a mirage, a fantasy. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Now, remember one thing, while the two of you are living together.” Krodha turned his back to Lukian, and spoke specifically to Aiden. “Mistakes are not to be tolerated: they are to be corrected. A roommate is no exception to the all-seeing eye of the law, and in difficult times, he must serve as the eye of the law. Such is Triumph."
Lukian lifted an eyebrow. “Krodha, were you promoted?”
He grinned. “Save the small talk for our next meeting. I don’t have to remind you that any statistical aberration will correct itself over a sufficient period of time.” Krodha put his hands on his hips, and faced Aiden. “Really, we’d have donated his body to science long ago if he didn’t excel at his job. Don’t try to get along.”
Aiden bowed, offering a humble and charismatic smile; he extended his hand, his warmth, an aura of pliable charm and supplication to Krodha. “Many thanks, Sir, for your guidance and trouble; I look forward to performing my duties here.”
“Go with Triumph.” Krodha nodded and shook his hand. “And, Lukian, I know you’re eager to see me again, but please-teach him well. If I catch him wandering the premises ignorant of any code of conduct, it will be on your accountability. The Glory of Daitya before all things."
Krodha turned his back and swaggered away.
a Rafflecopter giveaway