"A huge, colorful cast gives this superb fantasy kickoff a hearty boost."

"This opening series installment teems with impressive worldbuilding: Akers introduces the nilands and supporting characters without saturating the narrative in details."

"The kids have striking personalities; energetic 5-year-old Ewan has a distinctive speech impediment (calling someone named Berserker 'Bazooka'), and foolhardy Nachton incessantly complains about being a not-so-active 'Loremaster.'"

"Lewis' sketchy illustrations boldly define myriad individuals..."

"The exciting final act concludes with a worthy cliffhanger."

— Kirkus Reviews

"Taking its cues most clearly from The Chronicles of Narnia, R.L. Akers's OVERTWIXT is a looser, bouncier, but arguably more mature take on several of the same themes."

"OVERTWIXT boasts a well-imagined world rendered by both clever language and evocative illustrations (including maps of the interconnected landmasses and their bridges)... The worldbuilding is rich but never overwhelming."

"...these components help the novel punch above its weight as successful didactic literature."

— IndieReader

Advance Reader praise:

"I am so impressed by the plot, strong characterization, and detailed world you've built here! The characters are so wonderfully familiar, and I love seeing them wrestle with challenges and grow as people." ~Whitney, adult advance reader (and high school English teacher!), about the first Overtwixt

"I like that no one actually 'dies.' It's perfect for younger readers but still feels high stakes." And: "What a FANTASTIC ending! This tied everything up perfectly." ~Faith, adult advance reader, about Escape from Overtwixt

"I loved the artwork... The morals and themes of family and choosing good friends is done very well is not forced like in other books I have read. Overall, the books were fantastic and were fun to read." ~Ben, teen advance reader of Circus of Dagmør and Heroes of Centhule

"I liked the ending. It made me want to jump into the next book." ~K.M., young teen advance reader of Circus of Dagmør and Heroes of Centhule

"I really didn't expect to like it because I generally don't get excited about the genre. To my surprise I loved it." ~Lois, adult advance reader of the Golden Age trilogy (Circus, Heroes, and King)

"You've so subtly shown what bigotry is — what the caste system looks like — and how mistrustful we can be of 'the other'. Some good life lessons here for young adults (and old adults)." ~Ruth, adult advance reader of all 5 novels

"An audacious storyline... More than a few bombshell plot twists..."

"Everything about this novel is polished to a shine, particularly the tightly plotted narrative."

"Powered by a courageous and endearing heroine at world's end, like Ender's Game for the 21st century."

"This impressive debut novel—the first installment of the Gryphens duology—is a highly palatable blend of alien invasion thriller, apocalyptic fiction and military sci-fi."

— Kirkus Reviews

"Rising sci-fi author R. L. Akers spins a story that appears more real than fiction."

"Akers keeps his storyline constantly fluid by alternating between character scenes filled with everything military (both good and bad), back stories, and subplots that are laced with a bit of romance and comedy amid alien attacks and mysterious figures bent on sabotage."

IR Verdict: "The first book in The Gryphens Duology, PROMETHEUS REBOUND is a fast paced tale of unsuspected twists and turns that is bound to be a favorite among sci-fi readers."

— IndieReader
Prometheus Rebound garnered a 5-star review and is
one of IndieReader's Best Books for December 2014

"Akers' fast-paced science fiction thriller is far from boring. In fact, it is a vastly entertaining and engrossing read that is almost impossible to put down."

"Deftly blending elements of the movie "Independence Day" with the pace of Tom Clancy and David Weber's scientific explanations of future technology, Akers has crafted a well-written tale of military science fiction that will keep readers begging for more."

— The US Review of Books
Prometheus Rebound is RECOMMENDED by the USR

"The amount of actual scientific knowledge and data the book contains is amazing."

"Very well structured, skillful dialog and plot building with amazing character development."

"Any reader who enjoys science fiction or military genre type books won't be disappointed..."

— Reader's Favorite

• Overtwixt: The World of Bridges – 1 excerpt (prologue + first 6 chapters)
• The Circus of Dagmør (Overtwixt) – 1 excerpt (prologue + 8 selected chapters)
• Overtwixt: The Princess and her Throne – 1 excerpt (intro + first 2 chapters)
• Overtwixt: The Knight and his Friends – 1 excerpt (first 17 pages)
• Gray Tones – 1 excerpt (3 chapters)
• Atlantis: Twilight of Mankind – 4 excerpts (11 chapters)
• Prometheus Rebound – 5 excerpts (9 chapters)
• Prometheus Rising – 1 excerpt (from 1 short story)
• Prometheus Revealed –1 excerpt (1 partial chapter)

The Baron slumped on his throne, burying his face in his hands. He was a grandfatherly man, a good ruler, well loved by most of his followers. How had it ever come to this?

Even as he asked himself that question, he knew the answer. While his intentions had always been good, he had not always been wise. "I'm only the Baron... I was never meant to be a king," he muttered.

"What was that, your majesty?" a strong voice called, echoing across the vast marble floor of the audience chamber. It was the Captain who spoke, the leader of the Baron's honor guard. He and his three soldiers were stationed at the tall doors on the far side of the room from the throne.

"Once upon a place and time, way back in the beginning of everyfing, a powerful fella called the Sovereign created a magical world in the middle of nuffingness," said the dagwoman to her child. "And in that magical place, he created magical bridges to all the real worlds in all the different dimensions of the cosmos. And he invited all the peoples in those worlds to send representatives across the bridges to the new world he created. He called his magical world Overtwixt, on account of it existing over and betwixt all the different realities.

"And all those people came together to form Epitopia, the first great society of O'ertwixt. It was both a city and a country, the only city or country in all of O'ertwixt at the time, a place where everyone lived without pain or injustice or oppression or inequality. In that place, at that time, all the races and peoples lived together in peace and harmony."

Cécilie Ollivaros was not special.

At least, she didn't think she was special. She wasn't the first or the best—or even the last or the worst—at anything.

Her big brother Nachton (NAWK tuhn) was the oldest kid in Cécilie's family, and he thought he was the smartest too. Cécilie would never admit it, but he kinda was. Nachton had read more books than the rest of the family combined. He was 15.

Her other brother, Ewan (YOO wun), was the youngest kid in Cécilie's family, and everyone agreed he was the funniest. Ewan had a whole made-up language that only he used. Mostly that was because he couldn't pronounce grown-up words. He was only 5.

And then there was Cécilie's sister, Amélie (AWM uh lee). Amélie was the prettiest, the most talented, the most graceful... She even had the most friends of any of the Ollivaros children. She was 12.

But Cécilie... Cécilie was just Cécilie. Boring.

Ewan and his family found a magical place when they went through a hidden door at the airport.

The magical place was on the other side of a long bridge, and it was called Overtwixt.

"I can't say dat," Ewan said. "I call it Overchix instead."

Overchix was full of floating islands!

The only way to get from one island to another was using bridges.

The blood spatter glinted colorlessly on the faux wood paneling, distinguishable only by the way it reflected the elevator's flickering fluorescent light.

Grayson Gaynes, NYPD detective third grade, hiked up the legs of his suit pants and sat carefully on his heels. He stared at the grisly scene, trying in vain to picture how it should look, how it would have looked to him just one short month before. Blood was supposed to be red, dammit! The most vibrant stripe of the rainbow, the color of life and death. But these days, he couldn't see red even in his mind's eye, much less splattered all over this elevator car in which he crouched. The crime scene was devoid of all color. It was... drab.

The sun had been hinting at its impending arrival for perhaps an hour when it finally appeared over the mountains to the west. The fiery orb was magnificent in its splendor, instantly dispelling what predawn gloom remained in the small valley where the Setines made their encampment.

Yefet gazed over the collection of ramshackle buildings and the flocks at pasture, now easily visible from his vantage at the opening to the mountain pass. But even in full light of day, there remained no sign that his wayward brother was even moving yet.

He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. An hour of daylight already lost; how much longer would Chem delay them?

H'phaest'm was something of an oddity among the gods. One of the Six, he nonetheless stood outside the normal power structure of the Pantholon. His unique talents were in demand by all of the others, and thus he had managed to carve out a niche for himself in City politics; he remained at the heart of things, without paying tribute to any one of the Four.

He was... unusual.

He alone among the gods was indifferent to the worship of mortals. He was architect, inventor, creator — programmer, as he preferred to style himself. He exercised power in the form of direct control over nature.

D'Akaio's first task took him to a farming community northwest of the City. It seemed the villagers there had been plagued for some time by a great lizard of particular ferocity; at intervals no man could predict, the beast would emerge from Lake Qual to swoop down upon men and oxen in the field, slaughtering the men and making off with the choicest oxen clamped in its huge jaws.

The moment R'zuus had told him of this 'dragon' — for that was what the locals called it — D'Akaio had felt the excitement of a great challenge burn through him; no doubt a beast of this sort would make for an exceptional foe, and there was great glory to be won in defeating it...

... A child rushed up then, one Adana knew, a boy just beginning to sprout whiskers. He was out of breath and couldn't speak at first — but from his expression, Adana knew immediately that something was terribly wrong.

"What? What is it?" she demanded.

"Fire," he finally managed to say. "Fire. At the Castle. Kids trapped."

Adana paled. "Go! Take us there!"

The room is stark, sterile. Row upon row of 4-inch white tiles cover each wall, stretching from floor to ceiling. The floor itself is waxed to a high shine. Medical machines line the periphery, beeping, whirring, blinking, and an analog clock reads 10:27. Everything is white.

The patient perches at the center of the room.

Stock-still, sitting on the very edge of the small bed, the patient stares at the floor... then explodes into motion.

The bike cop helps muscle the body into the back of the ambulance, then climbs inside with two of the EMTs before pulling the doors closed. For a long moment, no one speaks. Then:

"That was close."

"Way too close," the ersatz cop agrees.

More silence, until one of the EMTs growls, "How long is he gonna let this go on?"

The cop can only shake his head. "He puts way too much faith in her ability to protect herself. Obviously."

"She's dropped off the grid. All our efforts to reacquire have failed."

The man on the other end of the line blows out his breath disgustedly. "One of the other interested parties?"

"Yessir, must be. She couldn't have disappeared so completely on her own."

"But you don't know who took her?"

"Her trail ends at the Vegas airport. Surely that means—"

"I don't pay you to make guesses, I pay you to surveil. You lost her."

(contributed to Space.com's Expert Voices)

The monitors begin winking on around her as Kara settles into her acceleration couch for the training exercise. Each hand on the opposite wrist, she squeezes an activation switch for three seconds to initiate her VR gloves, then flips a switch on the integrated goggles. She leans back in her chair as the program's calibration routine launches.

The control sphere materializes bright green in front of her, semi-transparent and a bit ghostly looking. Following the instructions of an ethereal female voice, she grasps the yoke with her right hand, spins it a few times in varying directions, then throws her arms out in a sequence of test maneuvers.

Brigadier General Carl J. Grant's steady eyes hold hers for a long moment. When he speaks, he sounds exhausted. "Have you ever heard of Rendlesham Forest?"

Kara shakes her head.

He sighs. "About thirty years ago—no, almost thirty-four years now—a spacecraft crash-landed in a forest in Suffolk, England. An honest-to-goodness unidentified flying object. Between the heightening tensions of the Cold War and the growing number of UFO claims worldwide, the Air Force had dedicated immense resources to investigating any reports of airborne phenomena. I was team leader for one of several commando units that would respond to these reports—and it was my team that was assigned this one."

Lt. Carl J. Grant was a quarter way through a bottle of scotch when the call came—the call that would change his life and set into motion more than three decades of military and political intrigue.

He ignored it.

Setting his glass back down on the table, Grant poured another three fingers, then took up the glass again—all one handed. His other hand stayed wrapped around his service pistol, a Browning HP.

The annoying ringing finally stopped.

Briefly lifting up his helmet visor's VR overlay, Lt. Trey Drogosch of the Orbital Defense Corps squeezes his eyes shut, wishing he could rub at them with his hand, the old fashioned way. He blinks a few times in the pitch dark, then pulls the overlay back down and watches the virtual displays reappear. He's barely into the second hour of his shift, but he's already having problems staying awake. He missed his morning coffee, and now that he's trapped inside his vac suit inside a Destrier for another six and a half hours, there's little he can do about it.

Sighing, Trey pulls the virtual control board into his lap and keys for two-handed input, repositioning the yoke to his right to get it out of the way. He cycles through each of the craft in his immediate vicinity...