In the 23rd Century in the galaxy of Sigma Kappa, Kim Fortune was the first surviving experimental enhanced human—a regenerate. Aged fifteen, he escaped the lab and years later, his failings as a regenerate and the suspicion of regular humans, leave him lonely and lacking in self-worth. Stranded on an abandoned planet, the arrival of a stricken ship and its crew give him hope that he may finally find what he always longed for—love.
Christian Novak is a successful regenerate with all the intended attributes—including lack of human emotion. Despite their immediate attraction to each other, Kim's failing confidence, and Christian's inability to empathize are a recipe for disaster. But war, imprisonment, and danger throw them together, and after each saves the other's life, their feelings begin to change.
Can a seemingly unsuitable pair ever find love, or is a future together destined to fail?
WOW! I just had to start by throwing that out there. I have been a sic-fi fan since I first saw Star Wars when I was 4 years old in 1977 so as you can imagine I've seen and read many science fiction plots in the years since. It isn't easy to tell a romance story in science fiction setting and pull it off with amazing heart, well Louise Lyons has done just that with Regeneration. Kim Fortune worms his way into your heart with his lonely soul, he may be a bit naive when it comes to certain things but he's always genuine. When Novak crashes into his life, nothing will ever be the same for either of them.
Not a lot I can say without revealing too much but I will say I love how the technology and science in Regeneration may not be doable in our lifetime but it certainly is a believable progression given the future time frame. Add unlikely romance into the possibility that one day it just may be the world our future generations live in and you have a story that really sucks you in and sticks with you. Once I started I just couldn't put it down, I know that may sound cliche but it's no less true. Prepare yourself to get lost in Kim & Novak's tale.
RATING:
I found the galley empty, Neil having left his dish on the table with the others. I gathered up the dishes and spoons and dumped them in the steel sink. Novak hovered by the table, muscular arms folded across his chest. Silence hung heavy around us, and I struggled to think of some way to break it. Ask a question.
“Who are you?” I knew nothing about him. I’d learned a little about the others, but this man—he could be anyone and have done anything. Why was he a prisoner? Susan, Dina, and Johnson hadn’t been able to tell me much.
“Christian Novak; escaped convict. Well, I had escaped, until that jerk Ross caught up with me.”
“What did you do?”
“Killed a few people.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
His grin broadened. “Ain’t it workin’?”
A faint prickle of fear touched my spine, but I ignored it. His attitude toward me didn’t indicate a threat. “Who did you kill?”
“Anyone who got in my way. You do that when you want to get away from something.”
“You didn’t kill Neil.” I turned my back to him, and opened a cupboard to retrieve a box of what passed for coffee granules. Removing one of the sachets, I emptied it into a mug. I didn’t offer him one.
“My mistake.” His boots scraped on the floor as he stepped closer to me. The scent of warm flesh and stale sweat reached my nostrils, and I wrinkled my nose. My heart pounded harder as his breaths came, slow and steady, inches from the back of my head. “Most people don’t turn their back.” His voice rumbled in my left ear, low and teasing.
“I’m not most people.”
“What would you do if I were to do this?” He moved his hand so fast I saw only a blur from the corner of my eye, before he gripped my throat and squeezed, not hard enough to cut off my air supply. Just as quickly, I snatched the pistol from the back of my pants, and thrust its barrel back over my left shoulder until it connected with hard flesh.
“Squeeze a little tighter and you’ll find out,” I hissed.
Novak loosened his grip, but his hand still cupped my throat. “It’s not primed.”
“It would have been, if I really thought you planned to hurt me. I can take care of myself.”
“You sound like my kinda boy.”
“Don’t push your luck.” I silently cursed the way my voice shook. Novak released me and raised both hands, one either side of me so I could see them. As he moved away, I tucked the pistol back into my pants, and wiped my sweating palms on my thighs.
I turned to face him and leaned against the sink. He watched me steadily, still smiling. He was dangerous, I acknowledged. Not because he’d killed people. I didn’t care about that, whatever the circumstances. He was hardly the only one. In this world, the strong survived and sometimes there was no other way. What scared me was the way he made me feel; the way he made my heart race and my hair stand on end; the way my cock twitched in my pants as he looked at me with hunger in his brown eyes. I’d never encountered anyone like him and it seemed we were to spend some time in each other’s company if I meant to leave Pardus behind. Maybe things would be different this time. He was a regenerate, so if I revealed we came from the same place, it wouldn’t matter to him. But would it matter when he realized I was a failure? Lacking most of the attributes I should have? Probably. My enthusiasm faded and I tried not to hope, but in that way, I was too human. I felt, and hoped, and longed, and prayed it wouldn’t matter to him.
“Who are you?” I knew nothing about him. I’d learned a little about the others, but this man—he could be anyone and have done anything. Why was he a prisoner? Susan, Dina, and Johnson hadn’t been able to tell me much.
“Christian Novak; escaped convict. Well, I had escaped, until that jerk Ross caught up with me.”
“What did you do?”
“Killed a few people.”
“Are you trying to scare me?”
His grin broadened. “Ain’t it workin’?”
A faint prickle of fear touched my spine, but I ignored it. His attitude toward me didn’t indicate a threat. “Who did you kill?”
“Anyone who got in my way. You do that when you want to get away from something.”
“You didn’t kill Neil.” I turned my back to him, and opened a cupboard to retrieve a box of what passed for coffee granules. Removing one of the sachets, I emptied it into a mug. I didn’t offer him one.
“My mistake.” His boots scraped on the floor as he stepped closer to me. The scent of warm flesh and stale sweat reached my nostrils, and I wrinkled my nose. My heart pounded harder as his breaths came, slow and steady, inches from the back of my head. “Most people don’t turn their back.” His voice rumbled in my left ear, low and teasing.
“I’m not most people.”
“What would you do if I were to do this?” He moved his hand so fast I saw only a blur from the corner of my eye, before he gripped my throat and squeezed, not hard enough to cut off my air supply. Just as quickly, I snatched the pistol from the back of my pants, and thrust its barrel back over my left shoulder until it connected with hard flesh.
“Squeeze a little tighter and you’ll find out,” I hissed.
Novak loosened his grip, but his hand still cupped my throat. “It’s not primed.”
“It would have been, if I really thought you planned to hurt me. I can take care of myself.”
“You sound like my kinda boy.”
“Don’t push your luck.” I silently cursed the way my voice shook. Novak released me and raised both hands, one either side of me so I could see them. As he moved away, I tucked the pistol back into my pants, and wiped my sweating palms on my thighs.
I turned to face him and leaned against the sink. He watched me steadily, still smiling. He was dangerous, I acknowledged. Not because he’d killed people. I didn’t care about that, whatever the circumstances. He was hardly the only one. In this world, the strong survived and sometimes there was no other way. What scared me was the way he made me feel; the way he made my heart race and my hair stand on end; the way my cock twitched in my pants as he looked at me with hunger in his brown eyes. I’d never encountered anyone like him and it seemed we were to spend some time in each other’s company if I meant to leave Pardus behind. Maybe things would be different this time. He was a regenerate, so if I revealed we came from the same place, it wouldn’t matter to him. But would it matter when he realized I was a failure? Lacking most of the attributes I should have? Probably. My enthusiasm faded and I tried not to hope, but in that way, I was too human. I felt, and hoped, and longed, and prayed it wouldn’t matter to him.
Louise Lyons comes from a family of writers. Her mother has a number of poems published in poetry anthologies, her aunt wrote poems for the Church, and her grandmother sparked her inspiration with tales of fantasy. Louise first ventured into writing short stories at the grand old age of eight, mostly about little girls and ponies. She branched into romance in her teens, and MM romance a few years later, but none of her work saw the light of day until she discovered Fan Fiction in her late twenties.
Posting stories based on some of her favorite movies, provoked a surprisingly positive response from readers. This gave Louise the confidence to submit some of her work to publishers, and made her take her writing “hobby” more seriously.
Louise lives in the UK, about an hour north of London, with a mad Dobermann, and a collection of tropical fish and tarantulas. She works in the insurance industry by day, and spends every spare minute writing. She is a keen horse-rider, and loves to run long distance. Some of her best writing inspiration comes to her, when her feet are pounding the open road. She often races into the house afterward, and grabs pen and paper to make notes.
Louise has always been a bit of a tomboy, and one of her other great loves is cars and motorcycles. Her car and bike are her pride and joy, and she loves to exhibit the car at shows, and take off for long days out on the bike, with no one for company but herself.
GOOGLE PLAY / PINTEREST / WIP
EMAIL: louiselyons013@gmail.com
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