New Release
Black Swan Empire by James Peters
Released February 11, 2022
Raka Varoule, Maven Blackheart, and Marco return for one final adventure in Black Swan Empire!
When Maven nearly starts WWIII as a result of an international nuclear incident, she and Raka are forced to flee from Earth and return to the Galactic Empire, but they aren’t exactly welcomed with open arms. They are quickly drawn into a plot that just happens to involve the assassination of Emperor Caligula himself.
With the help of some old friends and a few frenemies, they face their biggest challenge yet when the entire Empire is on the line.
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
Swan Spawn
To my great surprise, I found myself on a warm beach watching the waves pound repeatedly against a rocky shoreline, while winds whirled around me making a repetitive and comforting pattern of sounds. I was completely alone, yet I felt a sense of contentment just to be. Just to be here, just to be alone, just to be alive.
A lemon-yellow sun smiled down upon me, and a few cotton-candy clouds dotted a perfect blue sky. A wave washed up just far enough to tickle my toes; the water was warm and welcoming. I took a few steps into the ocean to see small fish schooling around my legs. When they looked up at me, they seemed happy.
A dolphin crested over a distant wave. It turned toward me, approaching quickly but I felt no sense of fear. The dolphin raised up out of the water in front of me and spoke, but not in Dolphinese, instead, he spoke in perfect English. “What do you do if you don’t have enough cash to buy a coffee mug?”
I didn’t waste my time considering the concept that an aquatic mammal was talking to me. Instead, I simply responded, “I don’t know Mr. Dolphin. What do you do if you don’t have enough cash to buy a coffee mug?” “You write a cup-check!” The dolphin said as it slammed its nose into my crotch with enough force to
shatter the side window of an ’83 Escort.
I screamed and flailed to find myself snapped into reality, and it wasn’t a pleasant one. I was laying on my
back in a bed with dozens of electronic sensors connected to me, an IV line in my arm, a hospital-style light shining in my face, and a fat little fuck of a kid laughing at me. He was maybe twelve years old and he still had his hands on my junk. He had black hair, raging acne, a triple chin, thick glasses, and he repeatedly sniffed as if he were snorting black pepper.
“Now the stinky man is awake!” the kid said and made a snorting sound like he was hawking up a loogie. “Fifty buck says I can hit you in the eye with this.”
“Fifty bucks says if you don’t back away from me immediately, I’ll beat you into next year, you little shit.” I began ripping off the electronic sensor pads and tried to get up, only to find I didn’t have the strength.
“You think you’re a tough guy? My bodyguard could rip you in two long-ways and not even break a sweat.” He sniffed, then wiped his nose down his black shirt sleeve. An eight-inch-long trail of mucus glistened in the light on his shirt sleeve.
I grabbed Tubby McZitface by both arms where his biceps should have been and tried to shake him. “You ever touch me again you’ll regret it for what little is left of your sad, pathetic life.”
The kid’s eyes opened wide and his lip quivered in fear. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks, making a roundabout path between fat and pimple. His mouth opened for several seconds before any sound came out, but finally he screamed an ear-piercing wail of “Smiles!”
The door flung open, rattling against its stop. A huge gorilla wearing a perfectly tailored gray suit stepped inside. He had a scar across his cheek, and as he approached I smelled the pleasant fragrance of his shampoo.
“Rip the bad man in two!” Tubby said to the gorilla.
“I’m sorry, Master Filbert. I’m unable to harm Mr. Raka, as I’m sworn to protect him.”
“Can you at least give him a super-atomic wedgie?” Filbert wiped big wet tears from his cheeks.
“No,” the gorilla replied.
I felt a sense of relief. “General Smiles. It’s good to see you again. Be a sport and toss this evil little turd into the street, ideally into traffic. Thanks, buddy”
“I can’t do that either.”
“Why not?”
“I’m sworn to protect him as well.”
“Why?” I asked, as a deep sense of nausea and dread flashed through my body as if I were in a porta-potty in the act of being tipped over, balancing on its edge for just an instant before engaging maximum shitstorm.
“Because sir, he’s your son.”