Raiden Out the Storm
An (Off The Rails) Ice Era Chronicle (2:15 a.m.)
Three minds. One heart.
In the harsh reality of the post-apocalyptic frozen tundra, Raiden fights his growing attraction for Ashley Winsor and her handsome shadow, Stone.
Moving closer to separation the threesome navigate a world filled with angry harvesters, subterranean trains, and hungry polar bears. Through this steamy dystopian trek, Raiden discovers that these two people may be the only thing he loves on this ice bound Earth.
Once they arrive at headquarters a decision will be made… Is Raiden the man who will destroy their fragile relationship, or is he the harvester Ash and Stone need to love?
This main saga is going to be a 10 book series that explores the world thoroughly. Facets of the world will come into play in each installment. But these side stories are characters that go "Off the Rails" and love each other without limits. If you like three-somes, menage, male-male, female-female relationships then you will not want to miss these standalone stories encased within a fascinating world.
Let's be clear on these books.
Books with the subtitle of "Off-The-Rails" is going to be on the GLBTQ side of love. Books with just ICE ERA CHRONICLE is going to only have m/f romance.
C.M.Moore will gladly explain it! Send them an email by scrolling down to the end of this post and clicking on the email icon!
Also, the "M" in C.M. stands for Monica. Connor and Monica are a husband/wife team that create these stories and though she's shy and reserves the spot-light for her husband, Monica is very involved in these stories too.
There is no excuse for this late review!
Only that I thought I had but didn't post anything after reading this glorious story.
I'll admit, the first chapter didn't grip me in a choke hold as I like in my stories, but after... oh, after... the slow start was worth the wait.
Two men, polar opposites, but both strong. Both sensitive. Their mysteries unfolding as the tale is weaved in this two point of view novel. The strong female in the story is as strong as they get without being a chick with a dick.
Two men, one woman─who incidentally is masquerading as a man, are "stuck" together by circumstance and by Weaver, a character with a special talent in the previous book.
Now, I know what you're thinking... YOU SAID THIS WAS STANDALONE, STEPHANIE!
And, it is.
All is explained in this story. But you won't get a rehash of 2:05 a.m. (the previous book).
YOU WILL GET the point of view from Raiden & Ash's side of the story. So if you read the previous book (2:05 a.m.) it's not going to be the same story. It's much, much different.
If you haven't read the previous books, know this...
This is a menage where the third wheel (the "extra" person) of the story makes total sense. If you're into three-love, this is your story!
I Would Recommend this Book to Fans of:
Excerpt from RAIDEN OUT THE STORM © C.M.Moore
Stomping his foot, Raiden felt the cold eat at him. He tapped his foot then dug for starter kindling, Harvester Whiskey, and matches. Walking around the shelving near the exit, Raiden looked for items to burn. Starting a fire was the only thing he could think of to stay warm until Doug returned. Fear made his stomach churn. His eyes flipped to the glass doors. What if Doug didn’t come back? No. The harvester was mean, but Doug wouldn’t kill him. Would he?
Just as Raiden turned around to explore the rest of the room, a faint scratching sound at the back of the building caught his attention. He paused and listened. What was that? More snow coming in? Ice cracking? He headed back over to the counter and scanned the area.
The bellow of a polar bear paralyzed Raiden on the spot. He didn’t even look to where the animal might be. Raiden dashed for the exit and squeezed back through the door.
Raiden looked backward. Movement of white flashed next to the glass doors. Terror fueled him. The cold became a forgotten memory. He started up the hill of ice. Slipping and skidding, he tried to climb the pile of snow, but it was difficult without his ice cleats. His leg caught on an ice rock, and his ankle twisted painfully. Another roar broke the air.
Raiden flipped his head back as he crawled over the ice dune. A huge polar bear came out of the building. The animal spotted him and headed his way. Throwing his body off the mini-mountain, he rolled down the other side and landed with an audible crunch. He scrambled to his feet and started a dead run.
Up ahead, Raiden thought he saw the glimpse of a snowmobile on the ice. He said a prayer of thanks to whoever was trekking this way.
Raiden had just stopped to wave and holler for whoever was on the ice when a cramp seized his joints. He hit the ground as his knees and shoulders spasmed. A storm was here. His eyes misted with tears as the familiar soreness dug its claws into his bones. Raiden cried out, but the exclamation was only a muffled scream. The storm would be here in four minutes and thirty-two seconds.
The sound of an engine broke into his daze of agony. Just then another bellow of the polar bear had him spinning backward. The bear was at the top of the ice hill. The animal climbed slowly down the incline toward Raiden. He turned around and leaped to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a snowmobile to his left. He began to sprint toward what he hoped was help. Another mini-mountain of snow rose like a blockade ahead of him. Shoving aside a second spasm of joint pain, he dashed toward the pile of ice. Maybe he could hide behind the snow mound until the person on the snowmobile showed up. Perhaps Doug had returned.
Raiden’s ankle hurt, but the sting was no worse than his knees and shoulders. His empty pack felt like the straps alone weighed about two hundred pounds. The canvas strap that ripped on the train began to give out.
He hit the ice mountain and started to pull himself over the top. This ice was smoother, and it was harder to get solid footing. He slipped at the top where an area was particularly flattened and fell onto his belly. He held onto the one band of material that still held his bag onto his back.
Just as he was about to throw his legs over, he heard another roar. The bear had caught up with him…
C.M. Moore was raised with a combination of military and Catholic values. He didn’t do a lot of writing as a kid. He did, however, master the art of sarcastic guilt trips.
After grumbling and whining his way through the “hardest” part of his life (high school), he joined the Army. The grumbling and whining stopped immediately. Uncle Sam was not accepting of those antics, and instead, the military nurtured his core values and solidified the sarcastic traits. He also had to write reports, which were not allowed to be sarcastic.
Connor served his country on three separate tours. His first tour was like a six-month spring break in England. Easy duties requiring minor brain synopsis; his kind of work. His following tour to Iraq tested his metal, and proved to his wife, who had previously served overseas, that he could survive it too. His third and final tour to Afghanistan rocked his world. In Afghanistan, Connor was tasked to a Route Clearance Platoon, where he cleared routes of roadside bombs. The job was pure boredom interjected with moments of sheer terror. Connor is attributed with five finds, and nine strikes to his vehicle over a one year period. He finished his tour and came home with several new medals upon his chest. A Purple Heart being one of them.
Connor has several injuries which limit his mobility and his career options. He has a Traumatic Brain Injury and other physical issues. He now volunteers with veteran organizations and helps with a small bookstore his wife and he built. After Connor had returned to civilian life, he took a few writing courses which inspired him to put pen to paper. He’s not sure why that metaphor is still in use when everything is done on the computer. Connor believes it should be, give your fingers hours of cramped exhaustion.
Years of watching his wife devour romances caused him to want to write a book she would want to read. With the support of family and friends, Connor began writing his first book with his wife, Monica. There were many, many copies that ended up under his bed until now.
The final draft of his romance 1:05 a.m. follows an assassin trying to get out of the game, and a base security officer who is looking for the same peace of mind. This book is a sexy love story in a world covered in ice and snow. His home in Minnesota gives him plenty of inspiration.
When Connor can step away from his finger exercise on the keyboard. He is a stay at home husband and father. He helps his two daughters with their homework (yet he distinctly remembers graduating from homework) and aids his wife with their bookstore. He also enjoys hunting and fishing near his home in central Minnesota, and his hobbies are building projects and growing a white trashy beard.
If you wish to contact him, he loves to talk to his fans. Send him a message at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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