ICYMI, my upcoming science fiction space travel novel, The Starlight Contingency #1, has a cover and synopsis, so now it’s time for your first taste of the adventure!

The Starlight Contingency is Titan AE meets Nikita!

Orphaned siblings Scarlett and Duke Nam have had it rough. Cast aside by society, they’ve managed to stay afloat by being thieves on the streets of Alexandria, Virginia. Things plunge straight to Hell when a heist goes wrong and they’re on the run from the cops, but after they stumble into a nearby home to escape, something seemingly impossible happens – the house transforms into a spaceship and leaves the Earth’s orbit.

Scarlett and Duke awaken to find that they are now prisoners about the Titan International Spaceship. The Earth has been destroyed by the Bergleute des Todes, aka The Miners of Death. Scarlett and Duke are given the chance to become soldiers to fight the aliens who destroyed their world.

The only thing left for them is the hardest thing of all: Survival.

Please enjoy the below excerpt!

–

DUKE

The binoculars in my hands were stolen.

Stealing wasn’t hard. The clerk had been swamped on a Saturday night when it was still warm and people populated the street like schools of fish. Besides, Scarlett was perfect for distraction if he hadn’t been anyway. The process is simple, almost childishly simple. Scope out the shop two days ahead of time. Mind the cameras. Browse. Remain casual. Ask the clerk questions about the products, make it look like you’re gonna make a purchase. Clerks think that shoplifters avoid eye contact and immediately head for the corners of the store. Those are the amateurs. The kids looking for cheap thrills. The poor single moms struggling to make ends meet. The pathological liars.

We weren’t like them.

A leather jacket would be too obvious. Cargo pants too. My favorite was a pair of old, ratty jeans that hung low off my ass. The clerk was a straight guy, so he wouldn’t be paying attention to my ass when I carefully slipped the binoculars inside the back pocket after skillfully removing the tag with my pocketknife. 3.2 seconds. I had it down to an art.

I’d met eyes with Scarlett, and she knew the deed was done. We weren’t twins, but people thought we were because we had so many non-verbal cues. Thieving wasn’t like in the movies. We didn’t have elaborate schemes and escape plans. We didn’t wear rubber masks with nuns or presidents on them. Though, we did wear all black at night robberies. That was actually pretty useful.

My mind reeled itself back in to the task at hand. We had been planning this haul for a month. No more petty crooks. Big leagues. But more money also meant more time in jail and so we had to be careful. Cautious. Smart. Direct.

“Traffic?”

“Nothing. It is three a.m., after all.” Scarlett stuck out her hand for the binoculars. I handed them to her and lowered my hands to the belt. The darkness of the alley concealed us. I didn’t need light. I felt the tools one by one with my fingertips to check that they were all there and breathed a sigh of relief. Things would be fine. Just fine.

“Alright, let’s cross. Head low, casual.”

“Yes, boss,” she snorted, tucking the binoculars on her belt. I walked across the street first, scanning for cars or people. It was a cold October night, and no one was around. I liked it that way, even when we weren’t working. The rear entrance to the privately owned jewelry store—embarrassingly cliché, I know—was directly across from a pet store, which provided us with cover. No cameras on this street, but there were some two stoplights down, which was why we were on foot tonight.

Scarlett came over a couple minutes after me. I pried the rear entrance open, having already turned off the alarms. That was why we’d chosen this place. Large chain jewelry stores had intricate security systems that couldn’t be externally shut down even in the event the power went out. We’d cased the place last month, getting to know the owner and the staff, and we’d worked out that it was minimum security and, therefore, worth the risk.

Cold silence and shiny linoleum greeted me. I walked inside, holding the door for my sister. I motioned for her to put her ski mask on and then did so myself. I shut the door and locked it before doing a quick scan of the employee lounge. Everything was laid out just like Scarlett said. Perfect.

There were a lot of ways to crack a safe, but we had found the fastest method was using a handheld welding torch. The modern safe of a place like this one wasn’t spectacular. It sat in the corner of the room. Like most retail stores, there wouldn’t be a sizeable amount of cash inside because most customers paid by card or check and the employees made weekly drops to the bank, but some bills were better than none. But that wasn’t all we were here for anyway.

Scarlett burned through the metal door of the safe and flicked the welding torch off, her gloved fingers tugging at the mostly melted lid to reveal the drawer inside. I unfolded a bag and dumped the drawers from the cash registers inside, calculating that we had maybe two-thousand dollars in cash. Not bad.

The next priority was the loose diamonds, which were kept in a separate container with labels for where they went in the displays. This was the real reason we’d come. The private owner had a handful that amounted to about fifty-to-sixty grand altogether. I’d had a friend in our apartment building who said he could find a fence for the diamonds. All they needed to do was make sure there weren’t serial numbers etched inside them and we’d be home free.

We walked out of the back room to the front display and split up. She went to the far side of the shop near the window, staying low, and I worked on the alarms set up on each display case. Once they were open, I stuffed the important pieces in individual sacks: necklaces first, bracelets second, and rings last. Anything else wouldn’t be worth the trouble because we only had another two minutes to get the hell out of dodge. Scarlett always called me a Five-Minute Man. I found that both disturbing and irritating, but it was still better than my usual nickname.

I lifted my eyes toward her to let her know I had finished my half, but then I saw it: sleek and shiny like a Great White cruising through the surf, aching for prey. My mouth felt as if it had been filled with sand, but I pushed the words out anyway.

“Lettie, drop!” I hissed as the cop car glided past the window. She hit the floor with a loud thunk,and I did as well, panting for air as panic gripped my chest. I froze, listening for the sound of the tires scraping against the road but heard nothing. Slowly, I tilted my head upward to see the cop car had stopped in front of the building. I caught a glimpse of two patrol officers climbing out and one of them touching his walkie talkie. As soon as both of them shut the doors to their car, I hollered at my sister.

“Go!”

Scarlett leapt to her feet and raced toward me. The officers spotted us and broke into a run. I slung the loot across my shoulder and led the way out of the shop, kicking the door open once I’d slid the lock back. Our feet punished the ground, but it wasn’t enough. I could hear the unintelligible jabber of their radio as they called in the robbery and ran even faster, turning down alleys left and right until we reached our escape route. Three streets and then straight into the woods. Five minutes and we’d be out of here.

Car horns blared as we pounced into the street. Scarlett had to do a front-hand flip over the hood of one that didn’t stop in time. Sirens cut through the air, meaning that the cops had a second unit nearby, further mucking up our plans. The ski mask stifled my heaving breaths. I wanted desperately to take it off as we crossed the second street, climbing over stone dividers across the freeway.

We reached the last and most dangerous road and had to stop as an eighteen-wheeler thundered past. My foot hit the concrete and then everything flashed white for a second. At first, I thought I’d been hit by a car and died, but then I heard the unmistakable roar of helicopter blades and squinted up into the sky to see a police copter.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” my sister spat, reading my mind.

I jerked my head in the direction of the forest. “Keep going!”

We crossed the last street and dove into the woods, eluding the spotlight for a few precious moments by hiding beneath a rotting log. Dirt and loam clung to my ski mask, making it even harder to breathe, and mud clumped on the front of my pants. We flattened ourselves as much as possible as the copter continued searching for us in the dark, but I knew we couldn’t stay there. I could see the pair of cops who had spotted us crossing the second street. They would find us in mere minutes.

“This wasn’t part of the plan,” Scarlett hissed, her brown eyes slicing into mine.

“I know,” I snapped. “Will you just give me a second to think?”

“Sure. You take your second and the cops crawl up our asses. Where did they even get a chopper? How are we this unlucky?”

“No one gets away with everything.” I craned my neck to peer at the forest behind us, trying to remember where it led. Then it hit me.

“The Rosewood mansion.”

Scarlett stared at me. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“They haven’t spotted us yet. If we make a break for it, we should be able to get on the grounds before they see where we went.”

“Duke, we don’t know what’s in there. We don’t know how their security system works. For all we know, they have attack dogs with lasers on their heads!”

“We move on the count of three.”

She swore at me, pointing a long finger in my face. “Duke, this is a stupid idea.”

“One…”

“We’re gonna get caught!”

“Two…”

“If you say three, I’ll punch you in the nuts.”

“Three!”

I jumped to my feet and bolted. Scarlett let out an unearthly growl and came tearing after me. Branches smacked my chest, leaves scattered beneath my feet, and the cold air made my eyes tear up, but I kept going until the sound of sticks crunching and my ragged breath were all I could hear. A soundtrack of desperation and the need for freedom. A snide little voice in the back of my head told me it was pointless, that we’d get caught and locked up, but I didn’t listen. Maybe God had one trick left up His sleeve and He’d slide it to me under the table.

The Rosewood mansion was surrounded by a four-foot brick wall with black fencing atop it. Lanterns adorned the front gate, giving me a point to focus on as we ran. Not that we were going to use it. One does not simply walk into Mordor, nor does one simply waltz into one of the most expensive homes in the state of Virginia.

My lungs ached and my hands shook as I hoisted my sister up over the fence in the back yard, straining to hear where the helicopter had gone. I saw dashes of light in the forest and followed the skyline until I spotted the flying mammoth thirsty for our capture. Briefly, I wondered if there were families at home eating buckets of popcorn and watching us like we were the circus, their entertainment for the night. They were programmed to hate us, the bad guys, the criminals, the scumbags. Bastards.

Thankfully, no attacks dogs with lasers on their heads greeted us as we hurried uphill toward the mansion. We might have tripped a silent alarm triggered by cameras, but I hadn’t seen any wiring in the fences to indicate otherwise. It was possible that the mansion itself was wired instead of the premises.

The spotlight hit the grass four feet away from us, and I shoved my sister forward, pointing to the wooden porch connected to the third floor. We scurried over to it and flattened ourselves against the wall, praying that they hadn’t seen us yet. The light veered back and forth on the ground like a drunk driver, drifting closer, making my heartbeat drown out the sound of the helicopter blades beating in the air. It passed over the porch, and the slats let in some of the blinding light, shocking my dilated pupils to tiny stars. Then, mercifully, it vanished.

Scarlett’s shoulder bumped mine as she slumped down, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath enough to make a smartass comment.

“Well, wasn’t that fun?”

“Exceptionally,” I replied, yanking the horrid ski mask off my face and mopping up the sweat dripping down my skin. Once clean, I pulled it back on and crooked a finger at her.

“The cops will be searching the premises in no time. Let’s get inside and get supplies so we can move on.”

Nodding, she pressed her face to the plate-glass window of the first floor. I watched as she scanned what she could see of their kitchen.

“What kind of system?”

“A damn good one,” she admitted, flipping her black hair over one shoulder. The ponytail had come loose during our escape. She’d have to tuck it under the mask, which she hated to do.

“From what I can see, there’s a security pad on all the doors. Cutting the power might give us enough time for a hit-it-and-quit it, but not much else. The alarm system might be on a separate power source.”

“We’ll have to risk it. We’ve got to get out of here before the cops come. Let’s just hope none of the Rosewoods are night owls.”

I took out my flashlight and crept around the long brick wall, searching for the power line. It was about three feet behind the porch, nestled just out of range of the garden and the tree line. I reached into the last pocket on the left side of my belt, lamenting that I’d have to use a miniature charge. These things weren’t cheap, and I’d only gotten three of them over the course of the past year. Emergencies only. But I’d be damned if this wasn’t an emergency.

“Spot me,” I said, sticking the flashlight back into my pocket and climbing up the pole. This was private property, so the pole had thin metal sticking out to serve as steps for maintenance purposes. I ascended as quickly as possible, occasionally checking for the helicopter’s current position, and then withdrew the flashlight and charge.

I stuck the small explosive on the transformer between the lines leading toward the mansion. It would shut the power off, then the backup generator would kick in and reset the security system, but we’d already be inside. I set the charge and climbed down, motioning for Scarlett to follow me beneath the porch for safety. We both plugged our ears just before a muted pop crackled through the back yard, punctuated by sparks and a bright flash. Power out.

Scarlett went to the sliding glass door and flashed a nervous look in my direction. I nodded once. She picked the lock and gingerly slid the door back as I held my breath. Silence. Thank God.

She crept inside and I followed, closing the door and pulling the curtains shut. We both stood still, breathing lightly in unison, ears straining to hear any commotion in the house. I estimated that there were probably six rooms on this floor, maybe more in the basement. The main goal was to get a set of wheels, meaning that we were heading for the garage on the other side of the compound. The cops would be looking for people on foot, not in a vehicle, until they found out that we’d broken into the mansion, and by then, it would be too late.

I found a knife rack on the counter and took two of them. Scarlett took three of the smaller ones. Neither of us intended to kill or maim anyone, but they were good for intimidation.

I held the long knife in my left hand as I started past the den and down the hallway, mindful of every creak of the hardwood floor. There were four closed doors on either side. I stared at them, keeping my steps as light as possible. They looked like gigantic mouths waiting to swallow us whole.

We were past three of them when I heard an unmistakable click of a light switch. I whirled to see the light at the end of the hall was on and heard a doorknob turn. Two choices: run or hide.

Cursing, I opened the door to my right and waved Scarlett in. We darted inside and closed it, praying no one heard us. I pressed my ear to the door, listening. No footsteps. I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

“Duke,” Scarlett whispered, but I shushed her. She grabbed my arm and squeezed, saying my name again.

I glared at her. “I can’t hear. What are you—?”

She was looking at the bed. I shut my mouth, my throat going dry as I realized there was an elderly black woman sitting there, staring at us.

She was short and plump with long white dreadlocks tucked in a messy bun at her nape. She wore a plain, light blue nightgown, her feet bare, the bed unmade from where she’d been lying in it. There was a cane leaning against the nightstand and a pair of slippers nearby.

Immediately, I lowered the knife to my side and held out my other hand toward her. “Ma’am, I need you to stay calm. We’re not going to hurt you. We just need a car and we’ll be out of here, I swear.”

“They’re waiting to take us,” the old woman said.

I glanced at Scarlett. She shrugged. I kept my voice low as I addressed the woman. “What?”

“Waiting and waiting. Long time. Cold, where they are. Dark too. It’s all they know.”

Her voice was soft and trembling, but the Jamaican accent made it sound cryptic. The darkness made it hard to tell, but she looked to be nearly eighty years old. No wonder her mind had gone. She didn’t seem upset by our presence. It almost felt like she had been expecting us.

Scarlett spoke up this time. “Ma’am, where is the garage on this property? Is it connected to the house?”

The old woman put her bare feet on the floor and walked toward my sister. Scarlett tensed, not sure of her intentions, but the old woman lifted her frail hands and touched her hair—ran her fingers down the black satin and the steaks of red at my sister’s forehead.

“Chosen, you two. Never thought I’d see the day.”

Scarlett glanced at me. “What the hell is she talking about?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but then a screeching sound tore through the silence like a knife through a veil. I clapped my hands over my ears, nearly keeling over at the volume of the alarm. It was unlike anything I’d ever heard—louder than ambulance sirens, louder than police sirens, damn near louder than God Himself.

“What is that?” Scarlett shouted, panicking.

I shook my head. “I don’t know! Just hide! Now!”

I ran to the closet and pulled the double doors back, stuffing myself inside next to the fur coats and silk pajamas. Through the slats, I could see Scarlett flattening herself on the carpet and crawling beneath the bed. The old woman didn’t move from her spot as if she were deaf, staring at the door as if expecting something.

Seconds later, a bald black man in his fifties opened the door and spotted her, wrapping his large hands around her forearms.

“C’mon, Mama, we’ve got to get ready.”

He pulled her into the hallway and disappeared. What the hell was going on? Why were they leaving? Had the police notified them of our presence?

I could hear some sort of commotion from the hallway—panicked voices, footsteps, the clamor of dishes hitting the floor—the urge to run increased tenfold. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, trying to slow my heartbeat, but my pulse wouldn’t cooperate. It beat hard and fast in my throat, along my tongue like the salty flavor of sweat, clinging. I couldn’t think with this damn alarm slamming against my eardrums, plowing the sanity from my skull.

The carpet beneath my muddy boots started to vibrate. At first, I thought it was because of the alarms, but when I knelt and pressed my gloved hand to the ground, I knew it wasn’t them. It rumbled like thunder had been trapped underneath the house. What the hell was going on?

The rumbling abruptly changed to shaking, unlike anything I had ever experienced. I pressed my hand to the wall on my left, trying to stay on my feet as the quaking worsened and shoes began falling off the shelf over my head. An earthquake in Alexandria, Virginia? Impossible.

The alarms and the falling shoes almost blocked out the sound of something outside of the house clicking and whirring like the innards of a clock. I stumbled back over to the closet doors to see the window on the far wall, ignoring the painful bumps on the head from boxes sliding off the shelf as I saw something amazing.

Huge metal panels shot up from below and clicked into place over the window, swallowing me in complete darkness.

The house was…transforming.

It didn’t matter if we got caught any more. We had to get out of here. I shoved the closet doors open and turned on my flashlight. Scarlett crawled out from beneath the bed, her eyes red and wet with fearful tears. I pulled her to her feet, my voice nearly giving out because I had to shout so loud.

“We have to get out of here. Come on!”

I went for the door, which had slammed shut after the man and old woman left, but it wouldn’t open. I pushed my sister back and kicked the doorjamb once, twice, a third time, but it didn’t budge. Scarlett joined me, kicking in unison at the white oak until it splintered. I stuck my hand in the hole we’d made over the doorknob and ripped a chunk of the wood out. The flashlight shook in my hands as metal glinted out from beneath the wood.

Solid steel. Escape was impossible.

We stared at each other, the light allowing me only a glimpse of her face, but I knew our expressions were the same. End of the line.

I wrapped my arms around her and knelt, kissing the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, Lettie. I’m so sorry,” I whispered hoarsely, hot tears tracing the lines of my cheeks as the quaking and clicking and screaming alarms worsened.

An explosion rocked beneath the house, and before I blacked out, I felt one sensation.

Flying.

–

TO BE CONTINUED IN THE STARLIGHT CONTINGENCY #1!

Release date: October 29th, 2024

Pre-order now for only $4 on the Falstaff website or from Amazon and you can also get it with free shipping directly from Falstaff Books! There is also now a second excerpt and a third one to read too! Stay tuned for more excerpts and other goodies!