Touch of the Elegrian
Cheryl A. Arko
Publication date: March 25th 2025
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction
Prejudice. Legacy. Redemption.
Erys carries a secret that could shatter his world. The telepathic Elegrian has spent his life atoning for his dead father’s role in humanity’s disastrous first contact. Now, as a tech specialist for the Earth-led alliance, he serves in silence—until sabotage threatens the lives of dozens of human children. And the traitor is one of his own.
Forced to work with a brilliant but hostile human engineer, Erys must dismantle not only the deadly conspiracy but also the deep-seated mistrust between their peoples. With time running out, he faces an impossible choice: break the fragile Elegrian-Human treaty and invite the death penalty to forge a forbidden mind link with a human… or let innocent lives be lost.
Two worlds on the brink. A single act of defiance. Can compassion rewrite a doomed future?
The Elegrian Legacy begins here—a gripping sci-fi adventure rich in high-stakes dilemmas, deep character bonds, and first-contact intrigue.
—
EXCERPT
Far, far away to the east, in New York City, where magic and power and rumor swirled in their own urban galaxy, a very ancient and powerful creature lived in the highest tower money could buy. While many of his kind lived and worked in the greater New York area, coiled around the rise and fall of stocks and bonds in an endless dance of power and wealth, he was by far the oldest in that den of snakes. He was old enough that his thick fingers still dreamed of worn gold coins and his body of piles of treasure beneath his scales. Now, of course, he slept only on damask of the finest quality, spread over a memory foam mattress—nowhere near as comfortable as cold hard cash.
That night, he was window shopping, his hungry eye roving over page after page of the most exotic goods Sotheby’s online could offer.
If one lived long enough, even the most exquisite meals tasted like ashes on the tongue; breathe often enough, and even bottled air from Everest smelled stale and flat. He could hardly be bothered to hide his own nature when he was alone—the secret theater of the Council and its Compact had been a bit of a thrill for a while, but Mr. Drake—just Drake to his friends—was getting bored.
He yawned, and his long, forked tongue spilled out, unfurling and flicking against his human nose. No one was around to see it, so he wasn’t breaking the Law, and besides, he missed all the parts of his true shape quite badly. Missed a herd of sheep’s eyes rolling in terror. Probably lamb again tonight, from that place on the other side of Broadway.
Mr. Drake’s lair took up the entire upper floor of his tall tower in the center of the city, wide rooms filled with the carcasses of kingdoms burned to the ground beneath his fearsome will. Company logos on banners from decades past, those battle standards of board members who had crumbled and fallen to their knees in merger upon acquisition upon merger. Darwin had certainly been on the money about the adaptation of species. In the face of adversity, Drake and the rest of his kind had thrived, but—
But he wanted to spread his wings high above his head, soar over the crescent moon, sweep down on farmland and gout flame from his throat; the glorious crescendo of a sun going supernova. Instead, he stoked another cigar, the smoke curling from his nose a pacifying reminder of who he had to be now.
His cellphone lit up, vibrating on the long cocobolo desk. Drake looked down at it with a grimace and tapped the screen with one stubby finger.
“Drake,” he said. “How do you have this number?”
“I have my ways, Old One.”
He was in the middle of pouring himself another whiskey, ready to tear this joker a new set of holes, when he recognized the voice and sighed.
“Old One, is it? When was your sweet sixteen, Morgan?”
“Oh well, you know me,” The Hollow Woman sounded far too cheery for his tastes. “Evergreen.”
Drake snorted.
“Isn’t it still daylight on your side of the world? Why don’t you go out and catch some rays, you old hag? Go get a tan. Would be good for the both of us.”
“Have it your way,” Morgan said sweetly. “Don’t trouble yourself with little old me, then.”
“I won’t,” he snarled, and hung up. Smoke was starting to waft down from the high ceilings, having pooled there in those short minutes on the phone. The AC here was top notch, of course, the best AC in the city, but nothing manmade could keep up with his kind’s distemper. He flipped through a few more pages on Sotheby’s, but quickly, rapidly stabbing his finger on the mouse. He tried to hum something to himself, and his phone buzzed again.
“All right. This is getting old pretty fast,” he said. “Spit it out already and go away. What do you want?”
“Want? Oh, darling Drake, not a thing. Not a single thing.”
He laughed, a deep rumble like an earthquake, the magma pushing up beneath the surface.
“Wanting is what you’re for, Morgan. Maybe you forgot?”
“Well, now. Maybe you’re not interested.” She was almost purring. Purring! “I’m sure one of your brothers will be.” And she hung up on him.
Dammit. Dammit. Dammit, he thought. The haze of smoke had curled down just above the surface of his cocobolo desk. If he wasn’t careful, he would trigger the alarms on the floor below again. He took a breath. He took another. I am a calm blue ocean, he thought to himself. I can be one with my feelings.
Author Bio:
CHERYL ARKO is a science fiction author and an accomplished senior data scientist with a long career in IT and medical data analysis. She has loved reading science fiction ever since she could connect letters into words, devouring everything from Andre Norton to E.E. "Doc" Smith to more and more authors through the years who have shared their thought-provoking ideas of imagined places and alternate realities.
TOUCH OF THE ELEGRIAN is Cheryl's debut novel and was a Killer Nashville Claymore Award Finalist for best Science Fiction/Fantasy. She writes stories that take her to the stars, imagining who we might find out there, inviting readers to come along for the ride to visit new worlds and their people. To explore what makes us different—and what makes us the same. And to discover the inherent good that exists in the universe to balance against darkness, no matter how far we travel.
A seasoned dog trainer, Cheryl lives with her beloved Airedales in a tiny house nestled within thirty acres of serene Minnesota pine trees.
GIVEAWAY!
—
