Thursday, November 15, 2018

Focus: Regeneration by Toni V. Sweeney

Regeneration, Book 8, the final entry of The kan Ingan Archives
Part 2 of The Arcanian Chronicles

          After the loss of his wife, home, and family, a position as Chief Researcher on the TerraFormation colony on Élysée seems a good way for Miles Sheffield to regain a normal life.
          Aric kan Ingan sees becoming Head of Security on Élysée as an attempt at closure after the deaths of his wife and two eldest sons.
          Neither counted on being the only men in a colony of fifty-three women.
          Two men seeking redemption…a jungle sending eerie messages…a whispered word, the scent of a dead woman’s perfume…intrude into their psyches, offering metaphysical rebirth and a final chance for happiness.
          …if a threat from Earth doesn’t destroy everything they’re regaining.

Excerpt:

It got darker as the sun set but he didn’t turn on the lights. The robot maid hadn’t reset the kelvin beams before she left, so the wall was still open, letting in sounds from the jungle…a soft chirping like that of crickets…here and there a faint cheep as if birds were calling to each other, and the occasional harsh croak of a bullfrog. He wondered how much water was nearby. Was there a river or lake where frogs lived among lily pads while cranes waded in its current hunting for fish and other birds flew overhead?
Am I getting fanciful or what?
Aric never considered himself to be one for flights of imagination. Being a margrave usually drove out creativity except in ways to wage war or conduct intrigues, but looking out at that green darkness…
He could see the shapes of trees, vines draped and swaying in a slight breeze. There was the rustle of branches brushing together. The wind brought a faint scent into the suite, lily-like and clean, like…freesia. Wasn’t that the name of the flower Susan had liked so? The fragrance changed, becoming the silvery bittersweet of parsilflowers,
Pallas’ perfume.
Aric breathed in the fragrance, feeling his body react as it always had when he smelled it…with longing. Could flowers native to Terra or Arcanis also be found on this planet?
Abruptly he was very weary, wanted to do nothing more than immerse himself in the clear water in the pool, just float for a little while and sip his wine, then go to bed. He had no idea how late it was but six o’clock would come soon enough and he wanted to be alert and on his toes for his first day in his new life.
It would probably be a bit of a madhouse, getting the children ready for school, fighting off eager females... Would he be expected to go with the children or would Net take care of that? He should’ve asked but he didn’t want to reactivate the droid now.
Let her recharge. She’ll need every bit of energy she can absorb for tomorrow. Another thought struck. I hope to the gods Michael behaves himself.
His eldest son was beginning to worry him. So far RD wasn’t a problem except when he tried to emulate his older brother.
I suppose I should be grateful neither was old enough to tag along with Riven and Auric. Otherwise I might’ve lost a third son, too.
Setting the goblet on the edge of the pool, Aric went to the cabinet Net had indicated.
For once, I’m not going to worry, he decided. I’m not going to have a plan set up and mapped out. I’m going to adopt some of that lackadaisical Milky philosophy…let it come as it comes and if tomorrow’s disorganized, so be it. Work can be as regimented as possible. My private life can be chaos. I welcome it.
He hoped he knew what he was talking about.
The cabinet reminded him of his shirt chest at Lindenscraig, having six shelves behind its double doors. Instead of shirts, however, it held stacks of neatly folded towels fashioned of sheet-sized fluffy-napped white bamboo-based fabric. He took one out, opening it. It was big enough to wrap around his body. He dropped it over the back of a nearby chair and standing on one foot and then the other, pulled off his boots, then began to undress, placing his clothing in the chair.
At the end of the pool there were tile steps leading into it. Picking up his goblet, Aric slid naked into the water. He wondered again why the pool was built inside the house. As he waded to the far edge, the answer came to him in the form of a memory, a fresco he’d seen in the newly-opened Museum of Alien Studies in Aljansur City. There was a depiction of something called a Roman bath and it looked very similar to the way the pool in his own living room was set up.
This isn’t simply a swimming pool. It’s a social medium…a place where one invited guests. The exhibit said several territories on Terra used such places, where people gathered together, enjoying each other’s company, even talking business, while floating in sun-warmed water. That’s why the pool was divided by the wall. Inside was for socializing, outside was only for swimming.
Of course.
He doubted if he’d be doing much socializing of any kind, however. He certainly wasn’t going to be getting into the water if all his guests were female. Aric’s Arcanian heritage forbade men and women swimming at the same time. He wondered if he’d be able to overcome that prejudice if there were more men inhabiting the colony, especially if they were Terran men who thought nothing of swimming with members of the opposite sex.
Of course, if it did happen, he’d have to invest in what the Milkies called swimsuits.
Right now, however, for him inside was going to be for thought and reflection. The water was warm enough to make him drowsy. There was a gentle current as it was pulled by the drains through a filtration system and recycled out again. It gurgled loud enough to make a monotonously soothing sound.
One arm along the pool’s edge, Aric leaned back and allowed himself to be lulled.
Here I am…just Miles and myself, two men in a colony of fifty-three women. Whenever I use the word he from now on, I’ll be referring to Miles and no one else. Our sons don’t count. Can we really make this work?
Remembering how women pursued him when he was an Exile, he had no doubt it’d happen again. Even with all the other men on Pyras, they’d singled him out because he was untouchable. And here? No matter what rules were laid down, he was certain he and Miles were going to be viewed as prizes in a contest between all the females, whether they were encouraged or not. As Delia said, they were all in the race.
He hoped there’d be no problem between him and Miles.
Please gods, don’t let any woman cause dissention between us.
They’d never had any on Pyras. For part of the time there, Aric had been under the vows of celibacy enforced by his Exile, while Miles’ post-adolescent hormones sent him running rampant among the younger women in the colony. Then Miles found Becky and Aric admitted he loved Susan.
Now, we’re both older, though perhaps not wiser. Let’s say more cautious…
Anyway, what did it matter? As long as the women managed to keep a professional demeanor during working hours…
…who the Hell cares what happens once the office doors close?


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About the author: 
         Toni V. Sweeney has lived 30 years in the South, a score in the Middle West, and a decade on the Pacific Coast and now she’s trying for her second 30 on the Great Plains.
          Since the publication of her first novel in 1989, Toni divides her time between writing SF/Fantasy under her own name and romances under her pseudonym Icy Snow Blackstone. In March, 2013, she became publicity manager for Class Act Books (US) .    She is also on the review staff of the New York Journal of Books and the paranormal Romance Guild. In 2016, she was named a Professional Reader by netgalley.com.

Find out more about Toni at:
Amazon Author’s Page: https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B002BLQBB8

Twitter: @ToniVSweeney






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