In the year 2099, a company called Galitech launched the first space station meant for recreational use. They shipped up food, sand, sea water, a whole lot of booze and somewhere around a thousand employees. What they created was called Station Center. It floated just beyond the moon and was advertised at the ultimate vacation destination.

Once everyone was convinced that the whole thing wasn’t going to devolve into some terrifying human behavior experiment, the overcrowded Earth started looking skyward. In 2104, what was later called the Summer of The Stations, 99 space stations intended for residential use were launched.

At first, they were populated by the brave and the bored. Celebrities thought it was posh to move off planet. Eventually, moving to space was the equivalent of moving to another country.

In 2117, something happened that mankind had pretty much assumed was an inevitability. We made First Contact. A race of people called the Khloe found a random station, Station 86. The thing that surprised people most was that they weren’t really all that different from us. While it was true that their skin was red and their hair hard and crystal-like, they were a far cry from the ‘alien’ everyone had in mind. Even so, it was a day that no one would forget, least of all the children on the station, including a little girl named Sennett.

The Khloe people weren’t the last to find us. A few years later they were joined by a race called the Ma’sheed. They caused quite a sensation because they glowed. They sent envoys to stations and lost no time becoming friends. Finally, the Toth quietly made contact. A tall and exceptionally calm race, it was sometimes hard to tell them apart from an Earthian. The only real difference was that their nails and eyes were black.

Over time the four races got along with varying degrees of success. Because Earth was too far away, Station 86 became the political outpost for inter humanoid relations.

These are the stories of Station 86

Godfrey Anders leaned across the counter of his food district booth, scowling at the tablet in his hand. He’d been trying to write this letter for twenty minutes, and so far all he had was ‘Dear Dad’. He took a deep breath and shook his mane of dark curls out of his face, then tried again.

I know we haven’t really talked since Ki and I got married, but…

No, what the hell would that do? It was his dad that wasn’t talking. He backspaced, and tried again.

I miss you, and Ki would love to come meet you.

That was a lie. As much as Ki would love to see Earth, she had no desire to meet a man that she called, ‘that racist asshole.’ No sense starting this out with false expectations.

I’ve just found out that I’m terminally ill, and…

No, that would just make him think he’d been right all along. It wasn’t bad enough that his only son had run off to space to open a glorified food truck, but then he’d gone and married an alien. In the mind of Matthew Anders, a terminal illness was exactly what Godfrey deserved.

He wished people were in the habit of writing letters on paper still. Hitting the delete button wasn’t nearly as satisfying as crumpling up a page when writing became difficult.

Across the aisle from him was a screen, on which the news was playing. With no customers to distract him, Godfrey turned his attention to it.

“The station is all geared up for the homecoming of Head Councilwoman Montgomery this afternoon,” the news anchor said, a large grin on his face. “Down here at level one, security has been tripled due to recent anti-council protests. But that’s not going to stop anyone from having a good time! There are no less than 15 hospitality stands, where citizens can buy drinks, frozen yogurt, klav and a vast collection of other treats.”

“Excuse me,” said an older woman at the other side of his counter. Godfrey turned to her with a smile. She pointed to the sign above his head. “Do you really have fresh fruit from Earth?”

“The seeds are from Earth,” Godfrey said, “and the soil is. But the fruit was grown right here on Station 86, in my own little greenhouse.”

“But it’s real?” the woman asked, “It’s not simulated?”

“Nope, not simulated,” Godfrey said.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “How do I know it’s real?” she asked.

Godfrey laughed. He took a yellow apple from a basket next to him and grabbed a small knife. “You can tell by the taste.” He cut a wedge of the apple for the woman. “Try this, and tell me it’s not real.”

The woman took the slice, still giving him a distrustful look. All around them, people were milling around on the market level of the station. It was right in between the lunch and dinner hour, so no one was particularly interested in the food isles. Instead, they passed by, mostly men laden with shopping bags, running errands while the kids were at school.

The woman took a bite of the apple slice. As soon as she did, her eyes lit up. “I haven’t had an apple like this since I was a kid,” she said.

“I told you,” Godfrey said with a chuckle. “Simulators just can’t reproduce that taste.”

The woman started to reply but was interrupted by shouting.

They turned to see a young girl, her hand partway in the pocket of a man’s jacket. Holding her arm was a police officer that Godfrey recognized, Sennett Montgomery.

Godfrey guessed that some might have found Sennett attractive. She kept her long hair set in thousands of small braids, corralled in a metal band. She was tall, with dark brown skin and brown eyes. He, however, was too put off by the amount of tech she wore to find her very attractive at all. She had the three circular circles on her temple that indicated a virtual screen. On her wrist, she wore the receiver, a thick silver band that reached nearly halfway to her elbow.

“Let me go!” the girl cried, as the man moved away, looking disgusted. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Sennett snapped, giving her arm a shake. The girl wrenched left and right, trying to get out of Sennett’s grip.

Sennett shook her head and pulled the girl along with her. As they passed Godfrey’s stall, the girl thrashed, kicked the front and knocked his tablet to the ground.

“Hey!” Godfrey cried. “Can’t you keep your prisoner’s under control, Officer?”

Sennett scooped the tablet off of the ground, and looked at it, still holding the girl by one hand.

“It’s not bad enough you’ve been poisoning my plants, you’ve got to let pickpockets smash up the front of my stall?” he snapped, “I’d like that back now.”

“You made your complaint about me, it was looked into, and no evidence was found,” Sennett said, “So you can shut up about your greenhouse, I haven’t touched it.”

She took a step, just outside of his outstretched hands. “Well, what’s this?” she asked, “Are you applying to the council?”

She held the tablet up to show him the application form. Apparently, it had opened when the tablet fell.

“That is really none of your business,” Godfrey said, snatching the tablet from her.

“You’re a Foundation Party member, though. Isn’t it the Foundation Party leader that’s trying to overthrow the council?”

“Saul Mai just wants the council to be more transparent,” Godfrey said, “And if you don’t want that too, you’re a fool. No one has any say on who’s selected, the council chooses their own members. No one even has an idea of what happens during their closed-door meetings. I would think the Current Party would have a problem with that, too.”

“So your way to fix that is to be one of the people doing things with no transparency?” Sennett asked, “Yeah, that seems like pretty common Foundation Party doublespeak.”

“Yeah,” the girl said. Godfrey noticed for the first time that she was wearing the four intertwined circles of the Current Party as a pin on her jacket. Godfrey himself had the four overlaying squares of the Foundation Party on his own.

“You’re under arrest, “ Sennett said, giving the girl another shake, “You don’t get a say.”

She continued on, dragging the pickpocket along with her.

A few hours later, Godfrey was closing up when his wife, Ki, arrived. She looked tired, still dressed in her uniform from the hospital.

Even tired, Godfrey thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She’d been the first person he’d met on the station, and her red skin had caught his attention right away. Her hair was a brilliant red, hard a stone, and chipped short to her head.

“Hey,” she said, giving him a tired peck on the cheek.

“Hey,” he replied, “Do you still want to go down to level one and see Councilwoman Montgomery come home?”

“Yeah,” Ki said. She pressed a button on the side of the counter, letting loose three scrubbers. They scooted across the counter and the stove range, cleaning all of the surfaces. “It was just a day. David and the new Ma’sheed girl both pulled no-shows. Then, some kid at the college accidentally melted half her lab. No one was seriously hurt, but the ER was full of whiny college kids and freaked out parents.”

“So we’ll stop by a stall with some booze first thing, then,” Godfrey said, pulling a tray of clean dishes from the washer. Soon enough they had the whole shop cleaned up. They pulled the front shutter down and made their way to the transit station.

The transit had fascinated Godfrey when he’d moved there, five years ago. People moved from level to level on a set of train cars that traveled in a corkscrew formation along the outer walls. The clockwise trains went down, the counter-clockwise trains went up.

They obviously weren’t the only ones interested in seeing the head councilwoman’s return home. There was a line for the first train, Godfrey and Ki ended up having to wait for another. A group of college kids was waiting as well.

“Hey, check out the Cherry skin,” one of them called. Her fellows chuckled. Godfrey looked over at them and was saddened to see that they were wearing Foundation pins. “Won’t your parents be ashamed to hear about this,” he called, “when I tell them about it?”

When the kids looked unimpressed, he said, “Kathy, Rodger, I know your moms will have something to say about this.”

Realizing that they’d been recognized, the kids slunk a little farther away, shooting Godfrey dirty looks occasionally.

“Little punks,” he muttered, pulling Ki close. She rolled her eyes and said, “Kids are kids, no matter the planet.”

They boarded the transit and took their seats. He pulled out his tablet and started scanning through the news. “Take a look at this,” he said, pointing out an article to her. “There’s a new poll out that says Saul Mai’s got the highest likability ranking of any Foundation Party leader in the past decade. He’s more popular than most of the Current Party leaders, too. Even that new guy they just voted in, Howard Stoats.”

“Is it normal for Foundation Party leaders to be unpopular?” Ki asked.

“Well, it’s always been the smaller party,” Godfrey said. He sighed, and added, “I know we’re in space, but there’s still a place for tradition, and history. We’re out here to assure that our cultures live on forever, all of us.”

Ki sniffed. “Honey, you know I don’t understand this obsession Earthians have with political parties. It just gives everyone something to fight over.”

“No, it gives the people the numbers we need to get our voices heard,” Godfrey said.

They reached level one, the docking level. Godfrey hadn’t thought it possible that it could be any more crowded than it normally was, but somehow the people of the station had managed it. The hospitality stalls were packed, and any surface that could be sat upon was in use. Kids, clinging to parents or perched on shoulders, shouted everywhere. He was sure that everyone who lived on the station was there, from every planet. He kept a good hold of Ki’s hand, especially when they passed a collection of officers. Their blue uniforms were meant to resemble American police officers on Earth, and they did a horribly good job as far as he was concerned.

“Come on!” Ki cried, pulling him forward.

“I’m coming,” he said, laughing at her excitement. “It’s a big ship, we’re not gonna miss it.”

Ki looked back at him and knocked into someone holding a child. “Oh, sorry,” Ki said.

The woman turned. It was Sennett, now dressed as a civilian in jeans and a hoodie, holding what Godfrey assumed was her daughter, April. She looked very much like her mother, but with a head full of fluffy, dark hair. She was a cute kid, but Godfrey noticed that Sennett had her teched out as well. She wore decorative wrist cuffs and had an earpiece in one ear. Godfrey couldn’t even imagine what a four-year-old needed an earpiece for.

“No problem,” Sennett said. Next to her stood a man who looked to be a couple years younger than her. He was pale, well built, with dark hair that was shaved close to his head. Like Sennett, he wore the three metal dots on his temples. He also wore the Current Party pin on his jacket.

“What are you doing here, Hypocrite?” Godfrey asked, “After bitching about the council?”

“Wanna watch your mouth in front of my kid?,” Sennett said.

“Councilwoman Montgomery’s our mom, Dumbass,” the boy said.

“Mason, could you shut up?” Sennett asked.

“Well, that makes sense,” Godfrey said, “Not only are you a cop, but you’re a cop with connections. That’s why you’re getting away with poisoning my plants.”

“Give it up,” Sennett said, “I’m not doing anything to your damned plants.”

“Well, they’re not dying on their own,” Godfrey replied.

“Oh, why don’t you take you’re damned lame accusations, and-,”

She was interrupted by cheering. A massive screen behind them lit up. The Councilwoman’s ship was nearly home.

Godfrey grinned. He supposed it was nothing major. The head councilwoman was in and out of the station several times throughout the year. But there was always this pomp and circumstance, this celebration when she returned.

The ship was sleek, thin and silver, meant only for short trips between the stations. The screen changed from the exterior view to an image of the Councilwoman. She was older, with gray hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She was smiling at all of them.

“Hi, Grandma!” April cried, next to Godfrey. Councilwoman Montgomery must have heard her because she laughed.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, “It is good to see home again. I’ve got to stop going away so long.”

The crowd let up a cheer.

Then the screen went black. The next moment, it sounded as though several large things hit the side of the station, just outside of the loading docks.

From the front of the room, Godfrey heard yelling. The screen remained black. Several IHP agents, dressed in black suits, began to move towards the docking bay and their ships.

“What is this?” Sennett whispered.

“Everyone, please remain calm,” said a voice over the loudspeaker. “All officers and IHP agents are now on duty. Report to your squad leader or immediate supervisor for orders. All civilians please return to your homes, now.”

From the front of the crowd, someone yelled, “The councilwoman’s ship’s blown up. She’s been killed!”

“Are we under attack?” Ki whispered, pulling Godfrey closer.

“No,” Sennett said. She’d set April on the ground, and was looking at her receiver. “That ship couldn’t have been taken down by anything besides station mounted weaponry. It had to have come from the station.”

Copyright © 2019 by Nicole C. Luttrell

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Station Central has been touted as the vacation destination in the stars. Its success and popularity as not only a great place to vacation, but a great place to live was the start of mankind moving off of Earth and into the stars.
Sennett, Godfrey and Liam head there in search of a much-needed vacation. Instead, they find a council at war with each other, a population starving and an accused murderer lurking in the shadows. Sennett and Godfrey fight to keep April safe as family secrets threaten to destroy them, even as the Hollow Suits come out of hiding and attack. Will they survive the fourth installment of Station 86?

Preorder Station Central now on Amazon

Hey, guys. I’m bringing you a bonus post today to let you know about something cool. Something I’m feeling strong about, and I hope you do too.

I spend a lot of time feeling kind of helpless. I feel deep anger and frustration over a lot of things in our world right now. High on my list is the climate crisis. And it’s so hard to feel like I’m doing anything about it. I’m trying to control my waste. We switched our house over to solar energy. (By the way, if you live in PA you can do that too. You just have to call your electric company and tell them you want to do it.) I even use crochet market bags to avoid taking home mountains of plastic. But none of that is making the difference I want to make.

What will help, what will end up winning the fight against climate change, is being vocal in politics. To that end, I want to tell you about a bill from Congresswoman Ilhan Omar from Minnesota.

It’s the H.R 4050. And it’s to award grants for projects that are consistent with zero-waste practices. So, what that means is that if someone wants to build something that will help our country get to zero waste, like solar energy or anything renewable, this will help fund it. I want my tax money going toward anything that will help us not kill the planet. So, I’m emailing and calling my congressman, to make sure he knows I support this bill and I want him to vote for it.

If you feel, like I do, that this is exactly what we should be doing, I urge you to get in touch with your congressperson. Here’s a link if you’re not sure who that is.

We don’t have to feel powerless. We can speak up and talk to our elected officials. They work for us, after all. And if we want to keep living on Earth, we need more bills like this. And we don’t have any space stations ready for residential living yet, so we might want to stay here.

Every month Solstice Publishing hosts a Twitter Tale event with a different picture for inspiration. You can follow along with stories from several Solstice authors, including myself. Check out #Twittertales every Thursday and Friday. And now, check out my July story, Home Sweet.

Annie pulled her coat on, shivering. The one room in the old house was all the three of them could afford, it was always cold. She tucked her hands in her pocket, felt something. She pulled out a pair of thick, red gloves that she’d never seen.

Annie didn’t have time to figure out the mystery gloves, she had to get to work. She pulled them on and headed out. Old Blanch was sitting on the front porch, already. She’d gotten a bottle of something somewhere, and she was sipping at it.

Annie gave Blanch a nod on her way out, which the old woman returned. “Have a good day,” Annie said.

“You too,” Blanch said, her voice already slurred. “Hurry back. She don’t like when you’re gone long.”

Again, Blanch was going on about that?

Old Blanch sat back against the doorframe, watching Annie vanish into the crowds. She didn’t know, how could she know?

The house knew, though. Houses, even old ones like this, knew who belonged to them. And Annie belonged to this one.

The house knew her, had known Annie long before her life began. She didn’t remember, with her one lifetime of memories. But the house did. And it would take care of her. It would always take care of her. In this lifetime and the next.

Station Central has been touted as the vacation destination in the stars. Its success and popularity as not only a great place to vacation, but a great place to live was the start of mankind moving off of Earth and into the stars.
Sennett, Godfrey and Liam head there in search of a much-needed vacation. Instead, they find a council at war with each other, a population starving and an accused murderer lurking in the shadows. Sennett and Godfrey fight to keep April safe as family secrets threaten to destroy them, even as the Hollow Suits come out of hiding and attack. Will they survive the fourth installment of Station 86?

Preorder your e-copy now!

Like me, many of you probably just finished July’s Camp Nanowrimo session. Or, maybe you just finished being slightly annoyed by social media being taken over by Camp Nanowrimo. You know, wherever you fall in that spectrum.

I did win, as you’ll know if you followed me on social media. But, I found myself a little letdown. If you’ll remember, at the start of the month I thought this was going to be the most productive Nanowrimo ever. I was going to kill it, nothing was standing in my way.

A week in, I changed my goal again. Now, I made my goal, but it was a low one. All I asked of myself was to write 30,000 words or essentially finish the second draft of my new science fiction piece. I did that, but I thought I would be able to do so much more! Nothing was standing in my way!

Actually, a lot of things were standing in my way. As usual, I had 99 problems and created 95 of them my damn self. One of the biggest ones is that I was adjusting to a new medication. Totally dumb of me to think I was going to be able to write at my normal pace, let alone exceed that pace for any amount of time.

And speaking of time! Some day I will learn that time goals do not work for me! The problem is that I always either over or underestimate how much time something’s going to take. For instance, I write and even edit fairly quickly. But when it comes to doing social media stuff or creating graphics or posting blog posts, those things all take a superb amount of time. So a timed goal is hard to fit in, and unrealistic in terms of how much work I’m going to get done.

Oh, and if you were wondering why I’m spending so much time making graphics and working on social media, it’s because I’m launching a book this month. You know, Station Central. Available for Preorder right now. And launching a book is a ton of work. I mean a lot a lot of work. Once again, this was me being unrealistic about what I can do with the time allotted.

So, my uber-productive month was still more productive than normal. I’m pretty happy about that. I did finish the second draft of my new novella, and I’m not mad at that. I started on the beta readers edits of a new book I’ll be announcing soon, and I’m pretty pleased about that too. So, I’ve decided to focus on the good, focus on the happy. Because when I focus on the good, I find more of it.

And you know what? Camp Nanowrimo is still really fun! I love the communal feeling from my local writers, and writers all over the world. I have never done any Nanowrimo event that I didn’t feel like I got something great out of.

Next time I’ll just plan my goal a little better.

So how about you? Did you reach your Camp Nanowrimo goal? Let us know in the comments below.

Station Central has been touted as the vacation destination in the stars. Its success and popularity as not only a great place to vacation, but a great place to live was the start of mankind moving off of Earth and into the stars.
Sennett, Godfrey and Liam head there in search of a much-needed vacation. Instead, they find a council at war with each other, a population starving and an accused murderer lurking in the shadows. Sennett and Godfrey fight to keep April safe as family secrets threaten to destroy them, even as the Hollow Suits come out of hiding and attack. Will they survive the fourth installment of Station 86?

Pre-order Station Central now.

Every month Solstice Publishing hosts a Twitter storytelling event. On Thursdays and Fridays, several of us get together to write stories, 240 characters at a time, based on a shared picture. If you want to follow along, check us out at #twittertales with @solsticepublishing. But, I wanted to collect up all of the tweets that encompass my story and share them here with you. Here is my June story. Hope you like it. And check out the Twitter Tales every month.

It walked, unsure of how long it had been walking. There had been buildings before, but that had been how long? Days, weeks? So these building on the horizon had been a surprise. And a letdown, when It reached them. They were broken and empty.

It looked through the remains anyway. The food stores were dwindling, It couldn’t overlook a chance to find more. Inside one building it found a cluster of broken boxes and a few stray potatoes. It was pleased but worried. Why had these been left?

Hoping that the potatoes weren’t poisoned, It tucked them into a bag and kept scrounging. There was no use leaving until every inch was searched or until it was not safe to stay.

There, in the corner, what was that? A bottle, catching the light.

It crept towards the bottle, intrigued. When It got closer, It could see the label. A bottle of pop, something It hadn’t seen since childhood. Something It had dreamed of, surely something never to be had again. This was too good to be true.

At the last moment, It pulled it’s hand back. Since the darkness, there was nothing like this left. Other scavengers had taken everything. If something this good, was left, it was a trap. There was no doubt. It looked around, wary. Was It alone?

It heard things in the sand, slithering and slinking towards it. It dropped the bottle of pop and ran. This place was a trap, set by those who had given up on scavenging and taken to cannibalism. But they wouldn’t win today. It ran.

The bottle of pop stayed where it was, resting on a trap door that led to a well stocked cellar that had not been touched for years, and had been casually dropped by accident when the family who’d once lived there left.

Harold spent most of his son’s life protecting him from the man in the woods, while his neighbors lost child after child. Then, after a deadly car crash, he has to take his sixteen-year-old granddaughter into his home.

Then a reality company starts building a new neighborhood in the heart of the woods, placing hundreds of children in harm’s way.

Get it here now.

If you subscribe to PBW Update, then the last episode of Station Central came your way on July 29^th. If you’re reading Station Central here, then there’s just two episodes left.

The ending is explosive, get ready.

But, as always, there’s more to the story. There are two chapters at the end of the book that tell the story of what’s happening on Earth right now, and more information about Sennett’s birth parents.

If you can’t wait to get it, don’t worry. The ebook of Station Central will be available on August 30^th. But, of course, it’s available for pre-order right now.

And please keep reading as we reach the ending of Station Central right here on PBW.

This is a little late coming, but as you might know, I’ve been busy. I mean, I’m always busy, so that shouldn’t be too much of a surprise. But I meant to write this back in June, and I’m just now getting around to it.

Oh well.

As some of you may know, my birthday was in June. And every year, I read The Giver on my birthday. I’ve done this since I was thirteen when I was given my first copy of it by a friend named Jamie over lunch on the last day of school.

This means that, as of this year, I’ve literally read The Giver twenty times. That’s right, the same book. Twenty times.

And you know what? It’s never gotten old. Every year, it feels different. Every year, even though I could quote you whole pages of it, it feels like I’m reading it with fresh eyes.

Why is this happening? It’s the same book. It hasn’t changed since 1993 when it first came out. I refuse to acknowledge that a movie exists, so that hasn’t colored my perception. And yes, there are more books now. But sadly, I’ve only ever read Gathering Blue. And that only once.

The book hasn’t changed. But the eyes reading it have. I am a far different person now than I was twenty years ago. I mean, I would hope I’m not the same person I was when I was thirteen. But I’m also not the same person I was when I was fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, or thirty. I hope that I’m not the same person a year from now.

And as I change, as I become a different person, the words ring out from the page differently. Their tune hasn’t changed, but I hear them different.

Different passages, different words touch me. Every year a different phrase moves me. Every year it means something new to me.

I can’t help but wonder if other people have experienced this. An I the only one who’s invested time every year to absorb the same words? I know that some people read the same poem over and over, studying its melody and features. But does anyone else do that with prose?

Some, I imagine, do this with holiday classics. I have tried to read two books in particular for Christmas every year, A Christmas Carol and The Best Christmas Pageant Ever. I don’t always have the time, and it hasn’t been so long a term thing. It’s also a bit more universal, you know? A lot of people read those books every year. No one, as far as I know, reads The Giver every year. This makes it a very intimate experience.

No matter what your age, you can start this tradition right now. It doesn’t have to be your birthday. Maybe you have a book you read every Summer, every Fall. The important thing is to pick a book with a depth that can be explored over and over. One that you will feel comfortable revisiting over and over. A book that means something important to you.

It’s best if the book has a significant meaning aside from the book itself. Though no matter the book you chose, it will start to collect that meaning over time. I read The Giver, and I remember reading it in my attic bedroom at thirteen. I remember reading it in my first apartment for the first time. I remember reading it under a shady tree in the grass, on a bus on the way to work. I remember reading it in twenty different places, in twenty different versions of my skin. And as I’ve read it every year, I’ve moved forward. I, like Jonas, have given myself over to a leap of faith. I have hoped that I would find people who love me at the bottom of that hill.

When a station goes dark, Sennett is asked to join the last remaining IHP members to investigate. When they arrive, they find so much more than they expected. A terrifying virus is loose on the station, that they might never escape from.

Meanwhile, Station 86 is having its first free election. Godfrey hadn’t had any intention of being involved, until he isn’t given a choice.

In the meantime, April’s true identity as the first hybrid humanoid is no longer a secret. And there are those who can’t stand that there’s a half Earthian, half Khloe. There are those that will never rest until the little girl is dead. With Sennett trapped, stations away, Godfrey and Mason have to work together to keep April safe.

Now available on Smashwords

It’s time for a launch day, are you ready?

Virus, Book 3 of Station 86, is now available on Smashwords.

When a station goes dark, Sennett is asked to join the last remaining IHP members to investigate. When they arrive, they find so much more than they expected. A terrifying Virusvirus is loose on the station, that they might never escape from.

Meanwhile, Station 86 is having its first free election. Godfrey hadn’t had any intention of being involved, until he isn’t given a choice.

In the meantime, April’s true identity as the first hybrid humanoid is no longer a secret. And there are those who can’t stand that there’s a half Earthian, half Khloe. There are those that will never rest until the little girl is dead. With Sennett trapped, stations away, Godfrey and Mason have to work together to keep April safe.

By the way, it’s also available on Barns & Noble and Kobo. Super excited about that.

If you’ve been waiting to get your hands on a copy of Virus, now’s your chance. I hope you love it.

Thank you as always for reading. And I hope you’re ready for the end of Station Central. There’s only two episodes left!

So, there’s this school bus driver that I kind of hated this past year. Her route was right near my house and, I’ve got to tell you, she must have had it out for me. She would take corners too wide, causing us to have to back up. She’d come to stops with little to no warning. She would sit at a stop forever, I swear. And any time we made eye contact, she’d go off on us. At least as much as she could, seeing as how we couldn’t hear her. Though I’m assuming you have an idea what I mean. Hands waving, mouth moving in such a way we can clearly see she’s not using language she should be using while driving about a bunch of kids.

I don’t like this woman. I cannot understand this woman, and I don’t want her to be driving children.

At the same time, it’s really hard to have such strong feelings for someone you see for a minute at most. And, a lot of factors play into my vitriol for this woman. For one thing, I see her in one of my least favorite times of the day. I am always anxious I’m going to be late for work, no matter how early we’ve left. And she, well, I’m sure driving kids on a school bus can’t be a stress-free job. Maybe we’re just two women, doing our best.

Or maybe she’s got road rage and needs to get that shit under control.

One way or another, I don’t really know this woman. I see one face of her, and it’s not a good one. I don’t see her when she gets back to the bus depot. Maybe she’s the one who brought doughnuts in. Maybe she waits a few extra minutes for a kid who has trouble getting out the door. Maybe she is the driver that always remembers all the kid’s birthday. Maybe she’s a great wife, mom, aunt, sister.

The same is true for our characters. Especially our secondary characters. We tend to see our primary characters as themselves because we see them through their own eyes.

But what about the nice old man who lives next door? How does his son see him? Is there a reason he doesn’t bring his wife when he visits?

What about the best friend? She’s always happy, always there to answer the phone when the MC needs her. Why is her life so empty that she’s just there for her buddy all the time?

Or, what about the villain?

The reason this is coming up is that I’m working on a companion novel to Woven right now. For those of you who read the trilogy, you might remember a woman named Grace in book two. The one who was an old flame of Victor, who was less than happy to see him in love with Lenore?

Yeah, her story is so much more than just being the old girlfriend. And so is Calvin’s. I was really astounded how I felt about Lenore after writing this. Or more specifically, Victor. I am kind of furious at him now.

I’m not telling you all this to sell a book that isn’t even done yet. I’m telling you because it’s really fascinating to me. No one’s really a pure villain or a pure hero. We all have shades of gray. Things that redeem us, things that we’d rather no one else know about. Why does your neighbor walk alone every evening? Who does your boss go home to? How many of your co-workers are forcing that smile?

We all have stories, and we all have many sides. To write a good character, make sure you explore all of your character’s sides. Even if they don’t fit into the story you’re telling right now.

Station 86 is shocked when a Khloe assassin begins killing members of the all powerful council. Officer Sennett Montgomery and Councilman Godfrey Anders swear to find the assassin after Godfrey’s wife is falsely accused. But the killer, and the council itself, are not what they seem. Neither, as it turns out, is Sennett’s daughter.

Download the e-book now for free.

Fun fact. When you get interested in something and want to learn more, the universe (or probably ads inspired by online spying) will help you. As you may know, I’ve been on a mission for better money management for quite some time now. I have to tell you, though, I’ve been struggling. Food is expensive, you guys. Like, way more expensive than it should be.

So, I listen to this podcast called Bad With Money with Gabi Dunn. And if you do too, I bet you now have her theme song stuck in your head. And she had someone on a few weeks ago who I just fell in love with. Like, started following her on Instagram and bought her book right away love. That person is Erin Lowry, aka the Broke Millennial.

You guys, this woman has some of the most practical advice I have ever seen for money management. Not just budgeting, not just saving. Real, honest money management. And I love it.

Had some great advice about budgeting

While I didn’t agree with absolutely everything in the book, I found the vast majority of it helpful. It went way past the usual suggestions that you see everywhere. Save money, use this method of budgeting, use that method of budgeting. Oh man, this shit gets offensive sometimes. Clip coupons, shop at different stores, shop the sales and forget coupons!

While all that’s fine, saving money doesn’t do you any good if you don’t know what to do with it.

Let me tell you, I’ve learned things from this book that are going to save me money. Even better, I learned things from this book that are going to make me money. Which is awesome.

Inspirational stories

Look, money issues are hard. It’s nice to know they’re hard for everyone. I mean, there’s a reason why I gravitated towards a money advisor called the Broke Millennial. This book did two things in that regard. It told me I’m not alone, and not stupid for not knowing these things. That’s the big thing to remember. We’re not taught this stuff anywhere unless we seek it out. We are not stupid for not knowing how to manage my money.

The other thing this book taught me is that just because I don’t know now doesn’t mean I’ll never know. I can take steps to be better, and I can start right now. And so can you. Which brings me to my last point.

Made me feel like proper money management was an attainable goal

I went through this book with my notebook open, taking notes. I have plans, people, I have big plans! And you know what else? I feel like these big plans are totally, absolutely, one hundred percent attainable.

I think too often we’re just afraid of things like investing or changing banks. I think money, in general, makes us scared. And I get it. Money makes me scared. But not having enough of it to care for myself and my family makes me way more scared.

And for helping me feel more confident about money decisions, this book is worth its weight in gold.