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The Hierophant’s Daughter by M.F. Sullivan: Exclusive Excerpt & Giveaway!

Blogger_Exclusive Excerpt

Exclusive Excerpt from The Hierophant’s Daughter

by M.F. Sullivan


Communication Skills

In many ways, Tobias Akachi seemed too good to be true. Dominia first thought this was because she had not known many humans in anything other than a bureaucratic sense, as when they came into her San Valentino office to appeal to her for grants, favors, stays of execution, etc. Humans, therefore, seemed increasingly to be an otherwise defenseless group in need of a compassionate hand—though she had always felt that way, even while slaying them. The bloody course of her final war arose from a deep admixture of love and hate, in which love found but recent consideration. Somehow, love was more painful for the General. Was that a symptom of evil? Humans, after all, seemed to express love with ease. Not having seen them in their own environment since her aborted childhood, she had not recognized how their kindness, their prevailing belief in the basic decency of conscious individuals, drove some to help even martyrs. And martyrs, well…perhaps it was wrong to call her kind inherently selfish, but what else could be said of a cannibal race? Her Father had, since before their human births, drilled the message of martyr superiority: How could humanity but believe it? How could martyrs but act with those beliefs lodged in their hearts? If, in the martyr world, Dominia had called a friend for help at a strange hour, would she have received any friendship? Any help? Martyrs were to be hospitable to other martyrs, of course. But they were also taught it was understandable to refuse the phone call of an absurd hour, and acceptable to find a solution other than inviting a general, a prostitute, a wounded man, and a dog over for unlicensed emergency surgery. Dr. Akachi had a different approach, about which he discoursed while tending the thrashing patient.

“One should leap at the opportunity to help one’s fellow man.” The dentist used one great hand to hold Kahlil while the other manipulated a pair of silver tweezers in a way topical anesthetic and slow-acting opiates wouldn’t help. “And, with love in the heart! If you do not have love in your heart, you’d might as well do nothing at all.”

“I don’t know.” Miki pinned Kahlil’s shoulders to the silver surface of the dentist’s chic dining room table, sometimes grimacing through her friend’s struggles. “A lot of great charities were founded from a sense of obligation. Lots of old people have been helped. My country has a whole system of elder care—and why? Because old people are so good at guilt!”

“Obligation breeds mutual resentment. I help because I am happy to! Because I was put on God’s Earth to help my fellow man. To help you, Kahlil, get this nasty fellow out of you!”

With a glance for the martyr, then the dog, who observed from the living room couch, Miki said, “This is a great argument for ID-locking all guns.”

“This is an antique,” protested Dominia, who lifted the hem of her shirt to show the handle. Kahlil hissed.

“Put it away! Didn’t you learn your lesson? That stupid dog— Ow!”

While lifting into the light a bloodied bullet that made Miki wince, Tobias laughed. “Relax. You won’t die! Maybe limp a bit. Some long-term aches. You’ll get a good idea of when it’s going to rain!”

“You should be grateful.” Dominia adjusted with a snap the band of her drugstore eye patch, procured at a clerkless convenience store to blind the DIOX-I to their conversations. “That dog saved your life by forcing you to leave your house. You think your Caliphate would have been understanding?”

“Oh, Allah.” Kahlil tried to sit up until Miki shoved him back. “Do you need to mention my—affiliations?”

“I do not care. Much.” The winking dentist brandished a hooked suture needle intended for stitches in gums. “After all, I have a martyr who can testify to my impartiality! That is high praise, I think.”

“You should have destroyed her brain while she was in your office,” said Kahlil, who swore as Miki slammed him down into the table. “Shit— Well? Can you blame me?”

“Yeah, asshole, I can blame you. It’s your own fault you got shot, the way you barged in.” Sniffing, Miki looked over at the dog. “Poor boy was startled. Weren’t you, boy? Who’s a good boy?”

“He shot me!”

“He doesn’t know that!”

Dominia wasn’t so sure, but there was no point in arguing. Better to play along, to smirk and say, “Holding a grudge against a dog is kind of petty, Kahlil.”

“So maybe I hold one against you.”

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Categories: Book Promo, Excerpts, Giveaways, LGBT, Published in 2019 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment