QSFer EM Hamill has a new sapphic space opera out (lesbian, pan, ace), The Team Huntress Flights book one: Whiskey and Warfare.
Running on caffeine and spite with nothing left to prove. GOLDEN GIRLS meets FIREFLY in this rollicking space opera adventure.
Maryn Alessi retired from mercenary service after her last assignment went horribly sideways and settled down on a quiet planet with the love of her life. Unexpectedly widowed, Maryn must fulfill a promise to return her mate’s ashes to zer home planet for funeral rites, but a brutal civil war has destabilized space travel.
Former Artemis Corps sisters-in-arms and their sassy ship, the Golden Girl, are up to the task, counting on luck and their rather sketchy cargo business to get Maryn passage through the contested star lanes. But when the crew of the Girlrescues survivors of a ruthless war crime, Maryn and her ride-or-die friends must take up their old profession to save the lives of innocents from a genocidal dictator.
Warnings: violence, genocide, aging, chronic illness, grief (death of spouse), PTSD
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Excerpt
Jac regarded Col with an arched eyebrow. “What happens to your species as you age? I don’t see you looking any different than the last time we got together.”
“You can’t tell?” Col stroked her furry cheeks. “I have more hair on my face.”
“Don’t we all?” Maryn gave a shaky laugh. “I look like I just hit puberty. I think my moustache is glorious.”
“I have also developed lower breasts,” the Boshi said, revealing her catlike teeth in a silent snarl of disgust.
“Mine are heading south too.” Jac cupped her tits, staring at them in contemplation.
“No. Lower breasts.” Col motioned to mid-abdomen beneath her tunic when it became clear they did not follow. “My second set.”
All three humans stared at her with varying degrees of curiosity. “What are they for?” Scylla asked.
“In my society I would be expected to help nurse the litters of my children. If I had any.” Col’s furry ears flapped as she shuddered. “Mewling, damp little things. Why anyone would want them is a mystery.”
“Ours turned out okay, and I didn’t have to get cozy with anything but a syringe,” Jac said with a laugh. “But I’m pretty sure Maya doesn’t expect me to breastfeed our grandkids.”
“Don’t look at me. I got rid of the plumbing a long time ago.” Scylla slapped her flat chest with both hands.
“How old is Maya now?” Maryn was chagrined to realize she hadn’t asked after her honorary niece.
“Twenty-one. She finished her first degree and she’s in medical residency on Telluride Station.” Jac beamed with pride. “Her gene dads still practice in New Denver, so she’s living with them. They’ve been trying to convince us to settle down there, where it’s safe and boring, but we’re not ready for that.” Something Maryn couldn’t name flitted through her expression before Jac’s face softened. “She sends her love, by the way.”
Author Bio
E.M. (Elisabeth) Hamill writes adult science fiction and fantasy somewhere in the wilds of eastern suburban Kansas. A nurse by day, wordsmith by night, she has sworn never to grow up and get boring.
Frequently under the influence of caffeinated beverages, she also writes as Elisabeth Hamill for young adult readers in fantasy with the award-winning Songmaker series.
She lives with her family, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse.
Author Website: https://emhamill.wordpress.com
Author Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EMHamill