Reminder For New Readers!

Incoming Transmission from the Wordsmith of Sol…

Just wanted to make new readers aware, as well as remind older readers, of my 2 eBooks for sale on Kindle. The first is an Action Sci-Fi novel, while the second is the first annual ebook of the Archives. (Most proceeds go to upgrading/maintaining the site) So without further belaboring, here’s a couple links and descriptions. Thanks for reading!!


The Omega Device (The Ha-Shan Chronicles: Vol. 1)

Coming Soon!

Description: When Tattooist Maggie Doherty’s client is found murdered, Detective Russell Williams discovers an identical tattoo on another, recent murder-victim. Her obvious innocence leaves Russell perplexed, and with little more than a promise of future aid from her.

But their brief association has unwittingly made them targets for a group known only as Omega. Both must swiftly accept that life as they know it has changed, and prepare to uncover secrets buried by time, or else fall in a battle that might determine the very fate of Humanity.

The Logbook Archives: Volume 1: July 2015 – July 2016


Description: Dive into S.M. Nolan’s Sci-Fi Logbook with the first-annual edition of The Logbook Archives. Featuring over 100 short-stories and poems from Sci-Fi Author S.M. Nolan, spanning July 2015 to July 2016, this collection of works will keep you riveted through each story and page. Beginning with a special foreword from the author, this collection is a must-have for anyone wishing to show their support for S.M. Nolan and the Logbook.

Transmission ends.

Poetry-Thing Thursday: Keep On My Way

Keys clack tales,
over the smell of black coffee.
Hands off the rails,
and mind rich like fresh toffee.

Worlds and cities.
Men and women.
All written as ditties,
from others once given.

The only time the keys ever stop,
are to light a smoke, swish coffee, or punch the clock.
Leaving me most days at the top,
but some others, weighted, beneath the dock.

Though I want no sympathy,
I must admit,
that when without empathy,
I often think to quit.

For life is short,
and death far too long,
to waste in the court,
of a lost lover’s song.

But something keeps me calling,
back on my muse,
and whether flying or falling,
I’m paying my dues.

Whether bound to in blood,
or by some sense of duty,
pages and pages I’ll flood,
whether with horror or beauty.

But I must reiterate,
that I’ve come close to starving,
hoping to instill,
mental or emotional carvings.

Without readers and others near me,
to keep me afloat,
I would drown in the sea,
of a success-surrounding moat.

For now I’ll just say,
that no matter the biting,
I’ll keep on my way,
and continue writing.

Short Story: Vanguard

A bright flash. A concussive boom. She stumbled in her run, blind and deaf. Her HUD had been knocked out. It flickered in her vision, spurting lines of colors. That meant her her optics had gone too. An EMP-flashbang. Bastards. EMPs, meant to disorient the cybernetically augmented and their tech, her. Getting out was important, but seeing was even more important.

She felt, rather than heard, the thump of boots. They flooded the narrow corridor behind her. She knew the place’s floor-plan from memory, but in her stumbling run, wasn’t sure she’d make the right turns. She booked it, both oblivious and fiercely aware of the platoon aimed to fire on her.

They told her this would happen; her friends, family. Not the blood kind of course. Shitty parents and siblings had long been an epidemic in this brave new world. Her family particularly, were corp through and through, Aries SC, Guardian LLC, Arc Systems, or one the other big ones, it didn’t matter who belonged to which. Wage-slaves and tin-soldiers were all there was room for these days, and she knew her family was a conglomerate of half of them.

She had meant her real family. Not her blood, but the people down at The Green Fairy, one of the slum-bar-hotel combos where she lived, worked, survived and thrived. Even running blindly from corp-sec down a hallway, optics half-fried, she remembered the first time she’d walked into the place.

She was still a teenaged hell-raiser in those days. Short, spiked, platinum blonde hair accented ever-present facial piercings, and self-satisfied smugness. That was before her eyes had the neon glow of optic augs, but even then she couldn’t have been called innocent, however definite an air of naivete hung about her.

She stumbled again, pictures ebbing back into her eyes. She slid around a corner, felt the thunder of a hand-cannon split the air. It barked after her. Metal on metal grated her teeth.

How the hell’d she get here? She’d showed up at the Fairy to stay the night. With no creds, or even corp-cash, she was forced to slave away mopping floors. They’d lost their only janitor a few weeks before in a gang-raid. It wasn’t the first, and she’d seen her fair-share since. It was how she got the name Cutter; she’d been attacked like everyone else, but by a guy that wanted more than a piece of her ass. She gutted him like a fish with his own knife. The sheer atavism made the other gangers freak. The Fairy’s people took advantage of it. A few more gangers went down in gunfire. The rest bolted.

She still remembered feeling the guy hard against her. He’d grabbed her from behind in a room she’d been cleaning. He stank like month-old ashtrays smothered in grease and piled with stale butts. She managed to wriggle from his grip, slip out and behind him. As he turned to grab her again, she gave his testes a full, hard kick. The force staggered them both. He toppled onto her, screaming. She fought to get out from under him, somehow grasped a knife he had hanging from his belt.

She remembered everything clearly, like it had only just happened, but not the murder. Her first blood. She only remembered standing just outside the room, covered in blood, bile, and stinking of the guy’s bowels. The knife trembled under her white-knuckles as Den Mother found her. The Old lady was a whore, running the place as a brothel– among other things. That Cutter’d drawn blood, nearly been killed defending the place, made her one of the Fairy’s Vanguard from then on.

That’s why she was here now, in this damned corp building. She’d actually been fooled into believing the place was home. Hell, maybe it was by now.

She hurled herself around another corner. Her vision had almost fully returned. Her optics were still going haywire, but she saw the double-doors leading to the loading bay. Its internal storage room stretched out behind a wall beside her. She could feel the van waiting, already running. Too bad her augs were scrambled, or she might’ve called for suppressing fire.

Den Mother had sent her here– all of them actually– but the rest weren’t forced to come inside. Den Mother had long been paying-off corps to keep the Fairy in business. One owned the deed, another the land. As much as they wanted to, they couldn’t take it from her, no matter the amount of illegality going on. Sure, they could send in corp-sec, but Den Mother had made it well-known that she’d blow the place apart with her in it before she’d let them take it. Cutter’d seen the C4 stacked in the basement. It wasn’t a bluff.

Until now, corp-sec had stayed away from the Fairy and its people. In fact, aside from a few skirmishes and narrow escapes after petty theft, Cutter’d never had any trouble with them. But sure enough, after someone in a suit showed up in the Fairy– a weasel-looking guy too sharply dressed for usual, Fairy business– Den Mother pulled the Vanguard in to a pow-wow. Cutter’d never been sure what that really meant, but she knew, when it it was over, that she was about to infiltrate a corp. With the aid of a remote receiver and the Fairy’s resident tech-genius, Dan “The Man”, she’d been tasked to locate and delete all deed information relating to the Fairy and Den Mother.

Cutter watched one of the doors open. Jack the Ripper appeared. Ripper was lethal at any range, and the aimed baby-eagles in his hands said he was all business. The door beside him divoted from rifle fire. Cutter pumped her legs. Ripper stood stock still, damn near invincible with his Kevlar-woven skeleton and armor-plated torso augs. The baby eagles barked and spit lead at corp-sec that dodged for cover at the far end of the hall.

Cutter dove past Ripper into the van’s rear, landed half-in. The Man yanked her the rest of the way. Ripper’s eagles barked. He back-stepped confidently, unrushed and unswayed. He fell in backwards, rolled to come upright, still firing. The baby eagles clicked empty. The Man hit a key on his laptop. The auto-van growled, tires spinning, and tore off into the night.

“You alright?” Ripper asked reloading his eagles.

The Man was too busy hacking the autopilot, spoofing its travel information. A sign on the side of the van said “Aries Security Corp,” so the corp they’d just hacked would have no idea who’d really done the job.

Cutter’s chest heaved for air. Her hands ran along herself to check for holes. Other than a splitting migraine and some wonked-out optics, she was fine. Fine? Alive, more like. She’d probably never been fine, never would be really. At the very least though, her home was safe, secure. The Vanguard had prevailed again.

She swallowed hard, “Yeah. Five-by-Five.” He handed over a canteen and she drank deep. Then with a breath, “Vanguard always wins, right?”

The Omega Device release date and more!

Forgive this post if it turns out a little raw, it’s coming straight from my brain (and heart.) Usually, I write things ahead of time and then sit on them for a few days before posting them. Not this. There’s a reason for that, but I’ll come to that later…

For now, The Omega Device is up for preorder on the Kindle store! By following this link you can pre-purchase it, or if you’re iffy about preorders of things (and I can understand that) just bookmark the page and return on September 6th to pick up your ecopy.

For now, the book will only have a digital release. Why? Because I am self-publishing and cannot afford physical printing, BUT providing the book is successful enough, I will do my best to have it printed.

In addition to this release, I will be launching a Patreon page in the next week or so. If you don’t want to buy the book, (you should, it’s pretty awesome) but would like to see my work continue coming, this is the best alternative. Committing even a dollar a month will help me to continue producing my work and allow me to add more– and trust me, I’m nothing if not full of ideas.

As for why this post is raw, well, needless to say things haven’t been great, personally speaking. Between medical and other issues, the last few weeks have been sort of harrowing, and even though releasing this book is kind of terrifying, it’s also exciting as hell and I couldn’t do it without the support of all of you kind people. So I wanted to take a minute to, as sincerely as possible, show my gratitude.

I was kind of hoping I’d have more to say there, but I digress, my gratitude is eternal, please know that.

So, there’s my short little thing I wanted to say, straight from the brain; The Omega Device, a Patreon Page, and my thanks. If you follow my twitter or facebook, (and you should, ’cause I’m great) you may see me mentioning the book and Patreon a lot in the next few weeks. Sorry if it comes off as spammy, but I’m trying to market it, and I’ve chosen to post a couple times a day in lieu of spending obscene amounts of money on advertising (that I don’t have anyhow.)

So, thank you in advance to everyone who donates or buys my book, and also thank you to everyone who comes by to read my stories. Your regularly scheduled programming will not be effected by this, so make sure to check back for more short stories, poems, and novellas!