Blog Tour: Read an Extract from Ways of the Doomed by Moira McPartlin @moiramcpartlin @FledglingPress @lovebooksgroup


Book 1 of The Sun Song Trilogy.

It's the year 2089 and everything is altered. The revolutions of the early 21st century have created a world divided - between the Privileged few and the Native (Celtic) underclass. Sorlie is enjoying a typical carefree Privileged teenage life until it is smashed apart by the cruel death of his parents and he is spirited away to live with his ice-cold grandfather at a mysterious island penal colony. Sorlie's discovery that the captives are being genetically altered to remove all trace of their Native origins triggers a chain of shocking events that reveal his grandfather's terrible secrets and, ultimately, the truth about himself.


Chapter One
2089 – Base Dalriada, Lesser Esperaneo    

The last time I saw my mother was three days after my sixteenth birthday. 
The wrestling bout was on but already I was pestered by the morning winterlight blighting the Games Wall and reflecting dust onto the rim of my headgear.  I don’t know how many times that native had been told to suction this room to full proof; the lazy bint never did. 
My parents’ prime birthday gift to me was the Cadenson Wrestling Station, the most excellent deluxe model with a hyper pain module. Epic. For five months already I had to endure Jake Hislop bragging about his CW Stat.   His parents, being Upper-Corp, had access to mega leisure bars. Jake only had to snap his bony fingers and his wish was granted.  He never had to wait for his birthday.  It was beamersville enough having only Mid-Corp parents without the added reds of waiting an era for their weeny leisure bar quota to mount up and eventually get the gift of the century.  Now the CW was mine and I’d been locked into a Jake grudge match ever since I peeled the wrapper off.
                That day as Ma stood by the doorway dressed in her crisp grey uniform, Jake’s impression held me fast in a strangle hold. It was like he was right here, in the room with me. I could smell his rank breath of oats he had for breakfast.  The machine began to count. Soon it would cancel me out and shunt the victorious Jake back to the reality of his unit to gloat.  I kicked the wall and twisted from his grasp.  The room tossed as I heaved his impression off me, I head dived over the low table, bounced backwards, and landed on top of him. He side-shifted, rolled his skinny impression under the table, hove from the other side and snatching my hair, viced my neck with his arm.
                ‘I’m leaving now, Somhairle.’ I heard Ma’s voice but saw only her feet, shod as always in polished military boots. As I flailed my arms to grab a corner of Jake, I skittered and raked at his face; the warmth of imagined blood tickled to my wrists.  His return blow to my belly was exact and buckled me, forehead to knee.  I bent double like a native working in the fields, winded and almost beaten.
                The machine called break and began to count again.
Ma was gone.

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