I saw a great quote on Twitter: There’s no elevator to success, you have to take the stairs.

Isn’t that the truth? That’s what I’ve been finding out this week. After battling with Mars Born, book 8 of my Shadows of the Void serial, I finally wrestled that sucker into submission. I just have the last few chapters to write, then a polish before I send it to the lovely Lacey Lengel. (Does she hate me calling her that? I’ll probably find out soon as she often reads this newsletter!)

Each book of Shadows of the Void has been slightly harder than the last to write, as the plot and characters develop and events need to be tied together. However, each book has been more rewarding to write, too. I especially loved writing the preview, Starbound, and it looks like you also liked itl! Many thanks to those kind readers who left such wonderful reviews.

I don’t want to tell you too much, but I’ve been enjoying exploring a little of Jas’ past in Mars Born. Check out the bottom of this post for a sneak peek of the first chapter, unedited.

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I know many of you have Kindle Unlimited subscriptions, which works out as a cheaper way of feeding your reading addiction than buying lots of books. KU books are only available at Amazon.

I try to offer my subscribers a choice. Shadows of the Void is in KU, and Carrie Hatchett, Space Adventurer is available at other vendors as well as Amazon, like Kobo, Apple, Googleplay and Nook. Eventually, Shadows of the Void will be available at these vendors too.

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Lots of new passengers joined us this week from Instafreebie, so I’d like to say a special hello to them. We’re a friendly bunch, I’m sure you’ll all agree. Sometimes we head over to Facebook or Twitter to chat, especially when I hold a competition. Hmm…I haven’t run one of those in a while. I’ll have to organise something soon.

Please feel free to drop me a line on social media or write to me at jenny@jjgreenauthor.com. I’d love to hear what you think of the first chapter of Mars Born.

Happy reading!

Chapter One

Jas Harrington went through her training moves. Left jab. Right jab. Right kick. Spin. Left kick. Weave. Right hook. Left hook. Weave. Right kick. She’d made something that vaguely resembled a punching bag from a rolled and taped up bunk mat, and she’d hung it from the ceiling in the starship’s dining room. It was the only place on board that was large enough for her to train in. Between meals, she would detach the tables and benches from the floor and stack them against the walls before starting long exercise sessions.

The center of the punching bag contained a long plastic bag filled with water, but the bag wasn’t quite heavy enough, and it swung wildly at Jas’ last, low kick. She side-stepped as the bag swung back, and she kicked it again, hard, as it passed her. On its second return she punched the bag, grunting with the effort. The bag swung away again, and as it came back, she stepped up to meet it and began jabbing it with increasingly fast blows.

Her brow glistened and her breath came in soft pants. Her arms and legs ached and her knuckles and wrists were sore, but she didn’t want to stop. The exercise felt good, though no matter how fast or hard she punched and kicked, the effort didn’t dispel her feelings of frustration.

Letting loose something between a gasp and a cry, she jabbed hard with her right fist. A soft pop followed, and water gushed from the bottom of the bag, drenching her feet.

“Krat,” she exclaimed, backing away from the quickly spreading puddle. The punching bag swung like a pendulum, shedding water like an out-of-control fire hose.

Carl Lingiari was sitting on the floor in the corner of the room, concentrating on an interface he’d balanced on his knees. “Woah,” he said as he heard Jas’ exclamation and saw the spilling water. He scrambled to his feet. “Must have been some punch, Jas,” he said, his eyebrows raised.

Her feet had been soaked in the initial burst of water, so she gave up trying to avoid it. She stood in the puddle, her hands on her hips, watching the slowly swinging bag. She drew her arm across her forehead to wipe off the sweat. “No, not really. The plastic bag was too weak. Wish I had some proper training equipment.” Pulling off the surgical tape she’d wrapped around her knuckles, she went over to Carl, her feet squishing in her wet sneakers. “What are you doing?” she asked as she trod on the heels of her shoes to remove them. She bent down to pull off her socks.

“Just the usual,” Carl replied. “Checking to see if there’s been any mention of the Shadows in the media. Isn’t it about time you gave the training a rest? You’ve been going at it a couple of hours now, and you were in here all morning too, weren’t you?”

Gazing down at her red, battered knuckles and lifting one lip ruefully, Jas replied, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. It’s just that I don’t have anything else to do. It’s so boring here. We’ve been aboard this ship for three days. Three days. And we can’t seem to decide anything. Every discussion we have goes around in circles. We’re all cooped up on this starship talking, and meanwhile the Shadows are on Earth killing more and more people, replacing them with replicants, taking over the Government, companies, media, everything.” She wrung out her socks over the puddle in the center of the room. “If we don’t do something soon, I think I’m going to explode.”

“Hard to know what to do until we hear from the Transgalactic Council.”

“I know. I know now that the Lees’ house is destroyed, any reply from the Council is going to be lost. And I know that we have no idea who Sayen’s parents sent the message to.” She squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. “I get it. But knowing all that doesn’t make things any easier. We have to decide something, and soon. Or else we might as well say we’ve done our part and wash our hands of the whole problem. Just find ourselves a little corner of the galaxy to wait out the storm, and hope that if we ever return to Earth, it isn’t inhabited by Shadows.”

“After what’s happened over the last few months,” Carl said, “that part about finding a quiet corner of the galaxy doesn’t sound so crazy. ’Cept I’d just want to pick up Flux first and say goodbye to my old home.”

Jas’ heart ached at her friend’s words. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to know your parents had been killed by Shadows. She reached out to softly touch Carl’s upper arm. “Whatever we do, we’ll pick up Flux. We’ll insist on it.”

“Yeah. Little fella’ll be wondering where I’ve got to.”

They stood quietly for a moment. Jas didn’t remove her hand from her friend’s arm. They both lifted their eyes and their gaze met. Slowly, they leaned closer. Jas closed her eyes and froze. She was trying to force her way through a sickening dread and not turn away or stop what might be about to happen to not freeze Carl out as she had done so many times before.

At that second the door opened, and Phelan Lee peered around it.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, backing out.

“No, it’s fine,” said Jas as she hastily drew back from Carl, avoiding his wounded look. Relief eased her churning stomach. “What is it?”

“We’re having a meeting.” Phelan eyed the puddle in the middle of the dining room. He went to a small hatch in the center of the floor and pushed it down with his foot. The hatch popped open, revealing a floor drain. The water flowed away. “I thought you two would want to come along.”

“You bet we would,” Jas said, too brightly.

***

They followed Phelan toward the flight deck. Jas was still getting used to how much he resembled his sister. Though the two were three years apart in age, it was as if they were male and female versions of the same person. Both looked a lot like their mother.

Phelan was as anatomically flawless as his sister, Sayen, no doubt due to the state-of-the-art genetic modding he’d received soon after his conception. The man’s physical proportions were exactly balanced, and his face was perfectly symmetrical. His blond hair was even cut to a similar cropped style as his sister’s. His personality, however, was quite different.

“Hope I wasn’t disturbing anything back there,” he said, throwing a grin over his shoulder. “But, you know, there’s more comfortable places for that kind of thing than a soggy canteen.”

“No worries,” Carl replied, “you weren’t disturbing anything.”

Jas winced at the somber tone of his remark.

Phelan seemed to pick up that he was skirting the edges of a touchy subject. “So,” he continued, “can I ask, was there a special reason you wanted to flood my crew’s dining area, Jas?”

“Sorry about that,” she replied and went on to explain about the makeshift punching bag and the accident.

“You went to all that trouble just to make yourself some training equipment?” Phelan asked.

“Yeah, I did. There’s nothing aboard. I like to stay in shape, and I wanted to pass the time. I hope that was okay. I’ll unroll the mat. It should dry out in a few hours.”

“Yeahhhh,” Phelan said, drawing out the word. “The mat’s no problem. I was only wondering why, if you wanted something to train with, you didn’t just use the ship’s printer.”

Jas nearly drew to a halt at her own stupidity. Of course Phelan had a printer on board. Every starship she’d worked on had carried a printer to create essential items or spare parts for repairs in an emergency. But because they were expensive to run, printers were locked away. Crew members were only allowed to use them with special permission. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask Phelan if he had a printer. “Krat. That was kind of dumb of me, wasn’t it?”

“Kinda.” Phelan gave a short laugh. “Just kidding. You couldn’t have been expected to know that, I guess. But for the record, you can use whatever the crew use aboard my ship. No need to ask. You’re friends of my sis, and what’s mine’s yours, okay? I should’ve made that clearer sooner.”

“Thanks, that’s generous of you,” Carl said. “How’s Sayen doing?”

Phelan had fallen into step beside them. The three walking abreast took up all the room in the narrow corridor. Space was at a premium aboard Phelan’s mining ship, the Bricoleur.

Sadness dimmed the man’s usually bright features. “Not so good. My parents’ deaths have hit her pretty hard. She was very close to them both, especially to our mother. Sayen hasn’t said so, but I think she’s so cut up because, when it came down to it, Mama chose our daddy over us. I think that hurts her almost more than the fact that they’re gone.”

Reminded of the scene of their escape from the Shadows on the burning rooftop, Jas shuddered. The noise and heat of the flames, the sight of Mr. Lee bravely firing at the host of aliens speeding toward them, and Mrs. Lee pushing Phelan into the shuttle, forcing them to flee and leave the couple to their fate: these were things she’d never forget.