Posts tagged sneak preview

Enjoy A Sneak Peak at Blackstone Book 3! (NSFW)


Hey perverts! Justine G here. The MMP docents have allowed me this divine moment of bandwidth to present to you the Prologue to the next Blackstone Erotica outing, continuing my sordid tale of sex and sorcery. Book 3 will be titled YELLOW SIGN BOUND and it’s full of crazed artists, possessed investigators, cursed daggers and of course, more weird couplings (triplings? grouplings?) than you can reasonably process.

Anyway, I know it’s been a while since Summonings: Yvette’s Interview and even longer since GREEN FEVER DREAM wrapped up, so I hope this tides Blackstone readers over until Book 3 comes out, which should be by September at the latest. Promise.

It all starts below the break! Thanks for all the strange love and great reviews!


Justine xox

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We’re back! A little downtime over the holidays, and Martian Migraine Press is ready for the new year. We’ve a lot of bizarre, unwieldy plans for 2013: actual book launches in August, tasty print runs, and various author promos throughout the year. Our authors have strange things in the offing, as well. More details as they rise to the level of conscious awareness, of course, but for now, how about a sneak preview of Justine G‘s freaky new sci-fi erotica short, due out by the end of this month? Folks, it’s called ORGY IN THE VALLEY OF THE LUST LARVAE, and we can say with some confidence that if you found Ridley Scott’s Prometheus more arousing than terrifying (or amusing!) then you are gonna get a kick out of this book! Here’s the clip, from Chapter 1 THE EMERGENCY: enjoy!

>> NakamuraCorp commercial deep space prospecting vessel

>> class designate: Garuda / VEIL OF ISHTAR

>> psychometric log / Capt. Martina Hale

>> narrative-bleed meta-filter engaged

>> tag[s]: #personal #crew[all] #LV-616 #emergency

>> entry data-stamp‡001

We were on our third day of low-orbital scans of LV-616 when a rogue meteor tore through the aft hull. By the worst kind of luck, the plasma shielding over that section was down for routine maintenance. The damn chunk of space rock was so small and came in at such speed, that Mai-Yin’s scans didn’t pick it up until it was half a click away, far too late for us to manouveur to safety. The strike effectively destroyed the algae stim-banks, bringing our life-systems perilously close to shut down. The ship’s emergency protocols kicked in within seconds, of course, sealing the breach with foam, and Rupal, Eris, and Link were quick to re-initialize the plasma shielding, but the damage had been done. With the stim-banks at 13% efficiency, the Veil of Ishtar was running out of air for the seven breathing souls aboard.

I ordered Danicka to muster the crew in the ready room. We needed to discuss our options. I took my seat and liquified a cube of scotch into a tumbler while I waited. It wasn’t a long wait; Danicka North is an exemplary officer and a fine First Mate. The crew respect and like her, and they were soon filing their way into the room, apprehensive looks on their faces. We were thirty-three light years and change away from Earth and the situation was dire, so I allowed for some natural distress on their part; crisis will do that to a person. I appraised each of my people as they took their seats, gauging their emotions and state-of-mind…

Danicka I had no worries about whatsoever. She’s from pragmatic Scandinavian stock, and she carries herself with a calm assurance. Her shoulder length blonde hair was done up in a tight bun and her broad cheeks were flushed. Danicka lives for moments like this. I watched her chewing her full bottom lip in excitement as she concentrated on the holo screens in the air above the ready room table. With agile, practiced finger strokes, she moved data-clusters around in the glowing field and then glanced at me, her blue eyes flashing in readiness.

Prelim reports are coming in, Captain, she said. Scans aren’t great, but they’ll do for now.

I nodded and rewarded her with a small smile.

My pilot and navigatrix Mai-Yin Gallagher entered next, her pixie-cut blue-black hair slicing across her attractive, lightly freckled face and her lithe shoulders already tense, every movement of her slim frame betraying frustration and anger. Mai-Yin was literally the top of her class at the NakamuraCorp lunar pilot training facility, so I could understand her disappointment in herself. Even so, with emergencies like this one, there’s little she or anyone could have done, and I would have preferred her to be a little easier on herself, but the unforgiving work ethic of her Chinese mother and the lyrical, fiery temper of her Irish father makes for a potent character that’s not easily soothed…

Everyone has a first time, Gallagher, I said.

Mai-Yin huffed and sat down, crossing her arms. I know. I just feel so violated, Captain. It came out of nowhere.

That’s how the Universe likes us: with our head down and our ass in the air. Makes us easier to fuck. Consider us very lucky today. We’re all still breathing.

Yes, but not for very much longer, Captain, said Eris Mons as zhe entered. You’ve seen the extent of the damage to the stim-banks? There’s a potential for a cascade-failure if we don’t…

I cut hir off with a sharp gesture. Yes, I’ve seen them. That’s why we’re here, Mons. Take a seat. Eris is our medic and life-systems tech and hir single-minded focus on hir tasks, while valuable, can sometimes make hir hard to deal with. Eris has an uncommon beauty; hir angular boyish figure and bald head accentuate hir striking features and hir large, violet eyes have a peculiar intensity that make hir difficult to approach. That, and hir status as a -Non, make hir a prickly conquest for the other crew, though I know a few have tried. Lately zhe’d been figuring in some of my more arousing dreams; perhaps I’d try for hir myself.

Iliana Tolstoy followed Eris, the blaze of her russet curls catching the overhead lights and her full, oceanic curves filling the doorway in a marked contrast to the gender-neutral -Non. Our communications specialist, Iliana loves to broadcast her state-of-being at all times, and every information-rich signal coming off her was of the just-been-fucked variety. She practically purred as she lowered herself into her seat. To my left, Danicka smirked…

Did our looming crisis interrupt something, Iliana?

Oh, just the usual…

At which point, “the usual” angled his wide shoulders through the doorway, a grin on his broad brawler’s face. Enter our maintenance tech, Seth Lincoln…

Yeah, and lemme tell ya, the existential dilemma I faced… hoo! Fucking harsh! Put yourself in my place, North! Do I run off to Engineering with the skinny brown nerd and the lady-thing and save the ship? Or die happy with my well-reputed cock sweet-deep in Ms Tolstoy here? It was a close thing.

Oh god! Some decorum, please! Danicka snapped.

Haw! You’re just jealous.

And you’re a racist throwback hillbilly goon, Link. Rupal Hanumansing, the “brown nerd” and our engineer, entered behind him. How your clan ever made it through to the 23rd Century with the rest of us, I will never know. Rupal clapped Link on the back with a fine-boned hand.

By stickin’ it to everything in sight, naturally! Fill enough wells with your steaming gene-juice and something’s bound to crawl up outta one of ‘em someday. It’s a cherished Appalachian folk-way and I’ll ask you to show the proper respect! Link threw an arm over Rupal’s neck and brought his thick knuckles to bear on his close-cropped black hair.

Well, I, for one, am glad of your ancestor’s abominable sexual practices, Rupal grunted as his scalp endured the friendly assault. Without your skills, I would have been hard-pressed to save us. You as well, Eris. Thank you.

Eris smiled and nodded in acknowledgement as Danicka leaned across the table and hissed at Iliana…

Girl, how can you stand him?

Iliana laughed. Are you for serious? Have you seen his pylon, little syestra? It is, oh, what is the word…?

Alright! I barked. That’s enough for now, people. You know I like a relaxed ship but we’ve got a situation, so let’s tighten up. Eris, how many hours of air do we have?

With full crew, maybe three. Certainly not more than four hours.

Rupal, can you make the repairs on your own?

Well… Rupal ran long fingers through his hair and fixed his deep brown eyes on mine. I could activate a couple of cLON units, slave them to my neural net, send them outside for most of the hull repair, yes. And Eris has briefed me on replacing the algae-packs in the stim-banks. I mean, it would take a while…

Gimme an estimate.

Sixteen hours, Captain? I could do it in sixteen.

I glanced at Eris. If we all go planet-side, will that give him enough air, Mons?

More than enough, Captain. Weeks, in fact.

I pointed at Rupal. Don’t take that long, but do take your time. Do it right. I think twenty-four hours is reasonable. Rupal nodded his head, already keying data into his portable. And the rest of you? I looked around the table at my able, handpicked (and therefore ridiculously attractive) crew. Report to the pod bay in fifteen minutes. We’re going exploring.

I rose from my seat and made for the door. Link grinned like the goat he was. Four women, a -Non, and one jacked-up hillbilly on a virgin planetoid? Now this is what I signed up for!

I smacked the tech on his thick noggin, even as I hid a smile. Stow it, Lincoln!

Beggin’ the captain’s pardon, but I’d happily stow it anywhere she chose! Ow!

It was Iliana who slapped him then, as the rest of the team laughed.

Fifteen, people! Two to a pod: Danicka and Seth, Iliana and Mai-Yin. Eris, you’re with me. Let’s go.

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