Christine Myers, $0.99, ISBN 979-8201905668
Sci-fi Romance, 2022
Vyken Dark is the name of the hero, and no, he’s not a vampire. After all, it’s “Dark”, not “Darke”, duh. Vyken is a cyborg.
Stopping at the corner of the building, using it as a shield, he peeked around the corner.
Right away, from the first paragraph of this thing, I can only wonder whether this thing had an editor. If yes, Christine Myers may want to reconsider going back to this so-called editor for her next work.
Our hero comes back to Chicago after spending 80 years beating alien asses. Oh don’t worry, he’s a cyborg, which means he will always look hot and his pee-pee is no doubt propped up by screws and what not so it would never be afflicted with old-age erectile dysfunction.
Chicago is in ruins, as he expects. That’s why he and his buddies are back. They are going to be an army of big-peen’ed Robocops to restore order to a ruined city. Personally, I’d think it may be better to rebuild the place first, but hey, who am I to judge these bucket heads’ priorities.
Almost immediately, he hears the heroine Danya Hill screaming and he quickly rescues her and her father from a bunch of thugs.
Vyken lowered his weapon and walked over to them. “Sir, do you require medical treatment?”
He has seen that man getting punched out of his daylights, but who knows, maybe that old man has super healing factor and is just fine.
Vyken looked at him and ran a scan from his internal computer. “You should let me help you. You have a concussion and an injury to your liver. We have a Medic on our ship. Come with us, and we will help you.”
Wait, shouldn’t he run that scan first before asking whether the old man needs a doctor?
Also, where is that internal computer? Is it in his scrotum or something?
Meanwhile, Danya doesn’t seem too concerned about her father’s leaking liver as she instead sasses the hero like she’s auditioning for the next MCU girlboss role.
During this, Vyken’s nostrils flare because he smells, er, wait, he senses the heroine to be his “genetic mate”.
What the heck is a “genetic mate”? Humans can mate with humans because we all have compatible DNAs, so we are all genetic mates in a sense and that term has no meaning. What, is the hero a cyborg wookie or something to be so concerned about genetic mate-ry stuff?
Most of the tech in the center was old, but their AI still worked. It was filled with the knowledge humanity collected before some overzealous planet surveyors got stupid and tried to take a colonized planet from aliens. It was akin to how the Europeans took North and South America from the natives in an earlier age.
Yes, the people that “took” North and South America got stupid. It’s not like they had deliberate intentions to plunder the local resources and inflame the locals’ wars and feuds with one another in the classic method of command and conquer. It was all just stupidity.
Just like this entire story, as if my brain had been a nuclear station, alarms would be firing from the first page because my goodness, that organ of mine would no doubt experience a complete and absolute meltdown soon.
The writing needs work—make that rework, a lot of it.
Their medic Kydel Bar was also a cyborg but well versed in human physiology as cyborgs were also human though many random-bred humans didn’t think of them as such. Even though they carried a fully integrated biocomputer within their bodies and nanocybots in their bloodstreams, they were human beings. Unenhanced humans didn’t always see them that way.
What? What the heck are nanocybots? What are random-bred humans? Is the author telling me that eugenics is now a hot and sexy thing?
How can these bucket heads be humans when they have a computer and nanoWTFbots?
If they consider themselves humans, why do they at the same time act as if they were better than humans?
Also, come on, the writing style screams “a six-year old kid’s first composition” realness. This thing is not ready for publication in its current state, oh my goodness.
Danya wasn’t the first female that he had seen in the last few years, but the only one who had sparked an attraction that stirred his loins. Even dirty and disheveled, dressed in rags, he still found her looks pleasing. He scented her desire for him as well.
Is he sure that it’s the scent of desire and not, you know, she being dirty and disheveled? Does he have a fetish for unwashed creatures?
She put her hand over his as his fingertips rested against her cheek. “I think the attraction is mutual, but I think we have to know each other before we get to the sexing, Vyken.”
“Sexing”? Okay, I’m out. I’m not even one-quarter into the story and already my brain is threatening to sue for a divorce if I keep reading. I’m out!
