Tag Archives: SciFi

Writing

NEW RELEASE!

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INTO ETERNITY has arrived.

The Stunning Climax to THE ETERNALS SERIES.

Book 3 of THE ETERNALS SERIES

“So this is what Eternity looks like.”

Prince Grella

Queen Serena and her allies have fled the Nordic massacre, taking Princess Linka with them. For Jean, it’s heartbreak; for Merryweather and the abandoned Aurora, far worse. Not even the return of a broken Prince Grella and a dramatic escape from an obliterated Hvit softens the blow of their loss. Tempers flare and the pursuit resumes.

Leaving the Arctic ice behind, Jean and the others must reconcile with both current and past deaths, as they close in on the Baltic home of the hated Duke Gorgon. Here, their enemies gather and confrontation is inevitable.

Under Merryweather’s frustrating tutelage, Jean marches from one infuriating revelation to another, but as the lies unravel and the truth unfurls, he discovers the Britannian is not the fool he’s taken him for. The enigmatic Merryweather appears the key to the greatest mystery of all. But will he ever show his true colors?

In the stunning climax to The Eternals Series, a brooding Jean must do what he’s never done before: place his trust in others. For only at the end of all things, as the sun dies and Shangri-La falls, will Jean know what it means to step Into Eternity.

To Purchase click title: INTO ETERNITY



‘An eternity in the making.’

“A second in the breaking.’

INTO ETERNITY

Thank you for reading

Richard

Richard M. Ankers

Author of The Eternals Series

Also Available

Book 1: The Eternals

Book 2: Hunter Hunted

Published by Creativia.



AVAILABLE NOW ON KINDLE

PAPERBACK SOON

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Writing

Done and Dusted (Drabble)

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They came as a plague to sweep Earth clean of every man, woman, and child. The Andromedans loved to wage war in their shining armour and elaborate weapons. They lived to conquer.

They’d succeed without even trying, a few blasts here, a large bomb there, and the amassed wealth of millennia would vanish in one evening, wiped from the annals of history. They’d take everything that was a world, all for their own.

The last laugh was on us. On Earth, we’d already beaten them to the punch. Humanity had destroyed itself without them. The Andromedans took nothing but dust.

Writing

Askew (Drabble)

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Aliens had skewed our world, everything was out of kilter. Children played in the streets kicking and missing at footballs, drivers turned into the wrong roads and had to reverse out again and all for another species’ entertainment.

I watched it unfurl from my tenth-floor apartment aware of the situation, yet apart. I’d sit on the balcony, newspaper spread across my lap, taco in hand and Bud at my side. Thusly, the one untouched human observed his fellow man.

They found me grinning, food and drink plastered across my face where I’d missed my mouth. And dead, very dead.

Writing

Radiant Night (Drabble)

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The sun died before we knew it ill. The light we valued above all else sparkled, fizzled, and then left. All turned dark.
Civilisation panicked in those intervening months. The flash of gunshots ran wild and the power of the clenched fist ruled in law’s absence. The bad killed each other in increments until almost all were dead.
When the world quietened, recovered from the devastation the cruel ones caused, we emerged. Like a shoal of scared fish, we flitted from depths to caves to meadows. When we looked up at the radiant night, we knew hope. Who wouldn’t have?

Writing

Violet Lost (Drabble)

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They were so rare we didn’t notice the loss for months. All the other colours were there: red and orange; pink and green; purple and blue. Violet had vanished.
Science tried to explain away the loss with everything from planetary tilts, to magnetic resonance, to abnormalities in the human condition. The truth was altogether more sobering.
The President put only one word in his communique. “Why?”
“Because we wanted it,” the aliens replied.
I missed my violet and wanted it back. We all wanted it back. Interstellar wars had started for far less than broken rainbows and they would again.

Writing

Astrofloozies (A tale that isn’t true)

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Three eyes winked at me in alternating eyelash battings. It was mesmerising, hypnotic, and disgusting in its vulgarity. I hadn’t flown halfway across the universe to be hailed by such as she. The woman-thing wriggled her hips; waves of fat rolled around her midriff. She stuck out a forked-tongue, very un-enticingly, and wriggled it at me. A passing humanoid whistled, but she only had eyes (eyes, do you get it) for me. 

I scratched at my unruly hair. I was too tired for this. So in an attempt to be polite, despite not wanting to be, I smiled and headed off down the spaceport plaza. 

To be stalked by a woman might be some men’s fantasy: not mine. I was happily married, especially when away from home, (you might need to think about that one) and to have a womanoid hooker hissing in pursuit of me on a faraway world just wasn’t my thing. I hurried. She slithered faster.

Almost at a jog, I made a dash for the nearest bar: The Wayward Monk. I was neither wayward nor a monk but couldn’t have cared less at the time. The place was heaving, packed full of intergalactic space types all drinking the latest cool beverages, but the bar itself was suspiciously clear. So I wandered up to a surly looking barbot and ordered a pint. The robot dispensed a drink from its chest just as I heard a hissing come from the open doors. I didn’t look up.

Taking a long draught of my dirty-glassed beverage, I was surprised by the barbot slamming his metal fist on the counter beside me, ( no wonder the bar was empty). Who the hell manufactured a miserable barman? What good was that to anyone? Why would you even think it a good idea? You can tell I was in a bad mood.

Anger rose then, I had a short fuse at the best of times, and was about to shove my beer where the sun don’t shine, (if a robot has that place) when I saw the dollar signs flashing in its mirror-like eyes. Of course, money! 

My hands reached into plastic pockets just as I felt the four breasts of the hooker press into my back. It just wasn’t my day. 

I won’t bore you with the torrent of abuse that got hurled at the shivering wreck of a womanoid thing, after all, she was just trying to earn a space dollar or two, but it wasn’t pleasant. And throughout my two minute rampage not one fellow drinker offered to help either of us. Goddamn space scum!

When the barbot gave me another shove it was the hooker that came to his rescue by paying for my drink. Paying from a small, leather wallet. My wallet. The wallet she had wanted to return. The wallet I had dropped.

I didn’t know what to say. What could you say to a space hooker just trying to help? I took back the proffered wallet from my fork-tongued female and was about to put it back in my pocket when she suddenly got nasty. 

“You’re short,” she hissed. “The contents of your wallet, plus your watch, plus a lift of this godforsaken world should do it. I’ve got a room upstairs and plenty of everything to spare.” She ended her spiel by hoisting up her bosom and giving me another triumvirate of winks.

Goddamn astrofloozy!

Writing

Shivered

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 I shivered on that alien shore, that dreamscape. What else could it be? Magenta surf frothed across a crimson sea, that crashed against a beach of sorts: sand, pebbles, me, but all abstract, incorrect.
 
 But to say crashed implies sound. There was none. It was as though all the makings of a perfect seascape had been created from the thoughts of a mad mute’s dream. The building blocks of existence had been taken then dashed against an unwilling God.
 
 I looked right, then left, but the shoreline stretched boundary-less into an infinite horizon. There was no sign of life, human, or animal. I was all alone.
 
 I craned my neck to a sky overflowing with kaleidoscopic stars. The night was brimmed full of celestia, but not as I knew it? Everything was contorted, wrong, unfixable.
 
 You have to have hope to be found hopeless; faith to be faithless, for some reason I knew I had neither, so had lost nothing. I was hollow with no chance of ever being filled, as I stood amongst that alien scene.
 
 The ocean drew my gaze. The waves, full of colour as they were, without reason, nor natural law, enticed me. I felt a pull, a sense of being drawn into their blood-soaked depths. That’s when I saw her.
 
 I thought it seaweed, vermillion of tone, but it was hair splayed across the sea. The hair drew up and around the rising face of something that could have been human, or just as easily inhuman. Higher and higher it rose defying gravity. Blooded water dripped from the frame of the most perfect woman, or most perfect nightmare. Eyes of ruby hue flicked open. They observed me, as she studied me. Her head contorted to the left at an obscene angle, then flicked across her neck to do the same from her right. She considered my pedigree and found me wanting. Skimming the waves she drifted ever closer until almost upon me, then stopped.
 
 She smiled, I shivered.
 
 I would never wake.