Here's a sample from my new book Space Fever. You can preorder now on Amazon for only 99¢
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BF4DHVK7

Chapter 1

“Here’s the receipt for your one-time payment, Chief,” the General said, handing Easy his certificate of service. The senior officer seemed bored as he wrapped up the retirement ceremony. “Thank you for your service. You are officially dismissed.”
Master Chief Edgar Zacchaeus “Easy” McCoy took the flimsy paper in his calloused hand. He was more used to holding weapons than receipts, and he didn’t bother looking at it. He saluted the general out of respect for the Galactic Navy, not for the officer in front of him. The bored general might not think much of Easy ending a thirty-year career, but it was important, and Easy wanted to do it right. The general waved a hand in the air. It was the kind of lazy, undisciplined salute that a drill sergeant would have thrown a fit about. And much like the rest of the ceremony, if it could be called that, it was done with halfhearted disinterest. Easy turned on his heel and left the office. He was in full dress uniform with a chest full of medals earned in combat. He was used to being knee-deep in mud and blood, but he doubted the General had ever been in real danger or suffered more than a paper cut in his career.
Easy walked down a short hall, through a waiting room, then out into the concourse of the Galactic Navy shipyard. His rucksack was packed full of his belongings, and a heavy crate on tiny wheels contained the only possessions that Easy had acquired in the three decades since graduating high school and joining the Navy. He stuck the receipt in his pocket without looking at it, picked up the rucksack and slung it over one shoulder, then took the handle of his hardcase and started walking.
There was a line at the central dispatch station. Easy waited his turn, and when he finally reached the stressed-out petty officer processing the Navy personnel passing through the shipyard, he handed his official ID to the overweight man.
“Master Chief McCoy,” the officer said, finally looking up from his console directly at Easy. “Retired! Congratulations, Chief. You’ve got full privileges. We’ll find you a spot on any transport as long as it isn’t on a combat tour. Where do you want to go?”
“Home,” Easy said simply. “Esbe Four.”
“The Skara Brea system,” the officer commented, focusing back on his terminal. “If you’re ready to leave now, there’s a cargo ship leaving for that system in one hour, down on Bravo deck, gate 39.”
“That works,” Easy said. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, no problem. Enjoy your retirement, Master Chief. Don’t spend that pension payment all in one place.”
“Copy that,” Easy said, taking his ID back and heading for the lift that would take him down to Bravo deck.
The shipyard was essentially a giant space station. Part dock, part administration facility, it serviced the massive interstellar warships of the Galactic Navy, as well as the thousands of cargo ships that helped supply humanity’s military effort across hundreds of systems. Easy rode the open-air gravity lift down Bravo deck. It was essentially a tube with its own gravity generators. Easy stepped off into open space, holding his rucksack with one hand, and his rolling hardcase with the other. He gently floated down past Delta and Charlie decks until he reached Bravo, where he managed to step past the invisible barrier back into normal gravity without losing his balance.
Long docking arms formed the gate, and Easy also had a long walk to reach the ship he would be riding on. But after thirty years in the military, Easy was accustomed to tight schedules and showing up on time. He moved down the open concourse with purpose and reached his gate in plenty of time to make his flight. He slipped his ID card into an automated reader. It chimed, opening the door to the docking arm. A long, narrow hallway led to an airlock that opened onto the crew section of a Class D cargo ship.
“You McCoy?” a crewman in dirty coveralls asked.
Easy nodded.
“There’s a lounge down that way. You can rest there while we finish loading and make our maneuvers.”
“Thanks,” Easy said. “What’s the ETA for Esbe Four?”
“We’re taking a load of alloy girders for the space station in the Skara Brea system. You’ll have to catch a shuttle to wherever you’re going from there. We’re four and a half hours from the jump point. That’s all I know for sure.”
“Thanks,” Easy said, adjusting his rucksack that was slung over his shoulder. He started for the lounge.
The ship was exactly what he expected: small, cramped, dingy, and on the verge of being worn-out. Cargo ships were working platforms where crew lived for months at a time while they ferried goods across the galaxy. Easy was a former RAKE or Reconnaissance, Acquisition, and Kinetic Engagement specialist, a Special Forces Operator who was used to spending months hidden on backwater planets when on mission. He could find a way to survive in almost any environment. Many naval vessels were a mix of pristine and practical. And he had spent most of his military career on the lower decks where function was king, and form was whatever happened to be the most practical in a given space.
The lounge was a mix of dining room and passenger type spaces. Easy took a seat on a padded chair that was bolted against the deck and the wall. It wasn’t going anywhere. Right next to the chair was a rack built into the wall itself. His hardcase slid into a slot under the rack, and his rucksack went on top. There were simple bungee cords with S hooks to batten his luggage down.
Once his gear was carefully stowed, Easy pulled out a Cherry iLink Z from the inside pocket of his dress uniform jacket. The device was new, purchased to replace his military grade Personal Computer Link, or PCL as they were called in the Navy. He powered the iLink on and let it sync with the ship’s network. From there he could download private messages and access the ship’s destination log that showed how long he would be in transit.
“Forty-four hours,” he whistled quietly to himself, thinking he should get comfortable for the long trip to the Skara Brea system.
He pulled his one set of civilian clothes out from the top of his rucksack and stepped into the little bathroom across from the lounge. By the time he finished changing there was another passenger on board, a tall and lean man with a black pointed beard. The passenger didn’t look up as Easy walked past and packed his neatly folded dress uniform into his rucksack. The man seemed obsessed with his PCL. But it was only natural to glance up when someone came into a room. To a former soldier used to assessing every situation for danger, the failure of the man with the pointed beard to look up was a red flag. But all Easy could do was wait to see how the situation played out.
 
Chapter 2

“Kitt McCoy, you old man. What the hell happened to you?”
“Did your parents have any children who lived?” Kitt asked.
“Not a one,” Hutch McCoy said as Kitt stood up from the table.
They hugged. Not the brief, back-slap type hug most men made, but a genuine embrace. The two siblings hadn’t seen each other in a very long time. The bar was one of several at the lavish resort, and wasn’t crowded yet. It was mid-afternoon after all, and the Royal Telmus on Esbe Four was a high-end casino and resort on one of the planet’s many islands. The bars and restaurants would get noisier once the sun went down and people came in from playing out in the sand and surf. Fortunately, there were only a few patrons in the establishment at two o’clock in the afternoon.
“You been waiting long?” Hutch asked.
“Not even long enough to finish my beer,” Kitt said. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to be seen. When does Zacchaeus get here?”
“I don’t know, he hasn’t made contact yet. Probably a couple of days.”
The two men sat down. A serving droid brought Hutch a beer. It was cold and frothy, if not very flavorful. Hutch took a drink, then wiped the foam from his mustache with the back of his hand.
“You seen Big Candy yet?” Hutch asked.
“He left me a message. Said he was working, if you believe that, and he’ll meet us for dinner.”
“Big never worked a day in his life,” Hutch said.
“The kid always had the golden touch,” Kitt agreed.
“He’s not a kid anymore, none of us are. It’s been twenty years since dad passed, can you believe it?
Kitt shook his head and tried not to let a gloomy sense of depression settle over him. He hated thinking about his age and the fact that perhaps his best days were behind him. But the older he got, the more difficult it became to face the reality of his life. Depression had become a regular battle he had to fight, but he didn’t want his brothers to know.
“I’ve got some news,” Hutch said.
He was grinning, his thick mustache hiding his upper lip, but his smile was wide and bright. Kitt noticed the deep lines in his brother’s forehead and around his eyes, yet he still had the features and mannerisms Kitt remembered from when they were kids. They were all approaching an age when people would begin to give them senior citizen discounts. If they were wealthy men they would have already paid for age reduction therapy. Kitt was fifty-four years old by galactic standards. When he looked in the mirror he sometimes didn’t recognize the older man looking back at him. He was exactly nine months and thirteen days from crossing what pilots called the MRA, mandatory retirement age. He wouldn’t lose his license, but no company would hire him to pilot their ships any longer. He would have to give up flying, and he wasn’t sure what he would do.
“What’s your news?” Kitt asked after another sip of his beer.
“I found something,” he replied, leaning forward and crossing his arms on the tabletop. “I can’t verify it, but it looks legit.”
“What?” Kitt asked.
“Do you remember Dad’s obsession?”
“The quartzite mines? Sure.”
“What if I told you I found a way through the Fanning Belt?”
Kitt leaned back in his chair, not sure if his brother was pranking him or being honest. The Fanning Belt was a massive asteroid field in the Harpazo system that orbited a young star. It was located on the edge of the galactic arm, right on the tip of the long spiral, and was completely unstable. The matter in the Fanning Belt was in the process of forming a planet. It just needed a few million more years of heat and pressure, but it was at an ideal stage for mining quartzite. The only problem was getting through the Fanning Belt. Rumor had it that someone had successfully plotted a course through the huge asteroids, but mining quartzite crystals was highly regulated by the Galactic Union’s Natural Resources Bureau. Getting permits took years and millions of credits. Small independent mining operations had been squeezed out and forced to sell their ores illegally on the black market.
Eustace Melchizedek McCoy had had four sons, and he told them stories when they were children of finding a passage through the Fanning Belt and mining quartzite crystals. They were crucial to building dark matter coupling isolators, better known as perpetual motion engines that could power a starship by pulling in free isotopes from space and converting them to usable energy. The technology was in use on large government spacecraft, but quartzite was incredibly expensive. Most ships relied on fusion generators that required large amounts of hydrogen. Creating a tiny sun to power a starship was effective, but required a lot of maintenance to keep the reactor from burning up the ship, or compromising the hull, which was just as deadly. A person who could mine quartzite could make a fortune on the black market, as long as they didn’t get caught.
“It’s just an urban legend,” Kitt said. “Dad knew that. Stop pulling my leg.”
Hutch shook his head. “I found it.”
“What are you saying?” Kitt asked. “You found quartzite crystals?”
“No, of course not,” Hutch said. “This is even better.”
“You found a way through the Fanning Belt?”
“Keep your voice down,” Hutch cautioned. “You never know who’s listening.”
Kitt leaned forward and looked his brother in the eye. “You’re not lying, are you?”
“Like I said, I can’t prove it. Not yet, but…”
He let the thought hang between them. Kitt didn’t need to be prompted. They both hadn’t forgotten their father’s stories. The old man had dreamed of finding a way through the asteroid field. He talked about getting a ship and crew together to mine for quartzite, but as Kitt got older he realized it wouldn’t be so simple.
“The Fanning Belt is in the Contested Zone,” Kitt said. “Even if you had a reliable course through the asteroids, how would you get past the blockade?”
“We would need a really good pilot,” Hutch said, flashing his big grin. “Do you know anyone?”
“Shut up, you old fool.”
“Hey, it might be possible. If we had a ship, we might make it through. Just one run would be enough to make us all rich men.”
“Or dead men,” Kitt argued. “And we don’t have a ship. You can’t be serious about this?”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Hutch said. “It was a long trip from the Mardux system.”
“Tell me what you found,” Kitt relented, tapping an icon on the table between them to order more drinks. “And don’t leave anything out.”

I hope you're ready to catch Space Fever! Coming September 27, 2022.