Well the oldest back burner project is NOW released for sale on Amazon only. This is not a transgender fiction. Actually it's a mainstream sci-fi romance. Click on the image to buy from Amazon. BTW, BigCloset gets 50% of the royalties on this.

Just to tease and torture, here is a snippet from the book:

"This way Sanderson," she prompted him then led the way down to the last session room directing him inside.

The other session rooms along the way had been empty. It also looked like most of the staff had taken lunch late. In the window, he saw only four people. Two techs running the equipment, the instructor and the Director herself.

'So this is what was meant by private,' he thought to himself.

"Sanderson, Dylan. Session One. Go ahead and sensor up," a technician announced into the room.

Dylan strapped on the head, chest and wrist bands.

"We're running. Anytime you're ready Sanderson." The tech announced.

Dylan looked at the array of lights. He knew what to do. He started to open his mouth, but couldn't think of a song, instead his mind filled with the image of sitting outside the smoke billowing S.P.A.R.C.L.S. unit holding Tabitha in his arms as convulsions wracked her body. Minutes passed until he pulled the sensor straps off and began to walk to the door.

"Everybody out. Clear the observation room." The Director said with the mic open.

Dylan stopped with his hand on the latch.

"Sanderson wait. Come to the window please," the Director said.

Dylan walked over and watched as she switched off everything then opened a small partition to be heard. "Everything is off. no audio or video or sensory. This is just between you and I. I'm vaguely aware of what happened at Northern, but I have to see for myself. Show me Sanderson. Show me what you can do."

Dylan turned around and took the mirrorshades off walking toward the wall of lights. Once again he put on the sensors.

After a few tense moments, he softly began, "Stood still, on a highway. I saw a woman, by the side of the road. With a face that I knew, like my own. Reflected, in my window. Well she walked up to my quarter-light, and she bent down, real slow. A fearful pressure, paralyzed me, in my shadow."

Charlotte watched and heard as the pain-filled voice hesitantly became clearer and certain lights came to life.

Dylan continued on. The Director had heard many songs over the years, including some sung just for her, but never had she heard a song like this. Filled with anguish, regret and self-hatred. The lights continued to flash and pulse as power flowed from him with intensity; some were designed to only light from high levels of a Generator's power. The way so many of the lights were flashing and staying lit she began to think that he may very well be able to light each one.

Dylan's voice became louder, clearer as he broke the disuse and reached his natural level. Charlotte Winsom had covered her mouth with her hand when he turned around. The mirrorshades gone, she now saw. Raw power pouring forth reflected in his eyes from pain, self-hatred and loss. Grief, in its purest form, powered his voice as a glow began to envelope him. Louder and clearer Dylan sang. The waves of power could actually be seen coming off of him as he sang making every light in the session bright, along with a few in the control room as well. He'd built up intensity and still there was more as he sang.

She saw several lights had flickered as they burnt out and others had cracked or shattered. A few exploded outright. Now she understood. His raw power had truly been more than could be withstood. That fool of a Channeler had wanted it, and like a loyal lover, he'd given it. They'd made no mention of his actual strength and no record of insignia for awards. They'd even gone so far as to disable his shoulder tabs which would have recorded his highest output of power before sending him.

She knew why as well. No Channeler could have resisted such a blatant show of power. Not that any could handle it. She herself was a Channeler and still kept up her certification, but did not doubt that Dylan Sanderson, at only sixteen, would easily fry her out like he did a girl at Northern. He trailed off sinking to his knees. Her heart broke for the boy and Charlotte did all she could not to show the tears that threatened to cascade.

In a shaking voice, she said through the porthole, "Th-thank you Dylan. I'm so sorry. She had to have been so proud to have you."

Silent sobs wracked him inside the session room.

"Take all the time you want. Nobody will bother you. I promise," she said gently then closed the partition.

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Here's the link to buy again: S.P.A.R.C.L.S by Alecia Snowfall.

If you do buy and enjoy, please leave a review.

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And don't forget Alecia Snowfall's other DopplerPress books also on Kindle!