Fanart (!) for TTSS: Sniper Nihlus

My friend Sixtus drew this amazing, badass Nihlus sniping in the jungles of Invictus as an illustration for my Mass Effect novel Thinker Traitor Soldier Spectre. (Please view the picture in full size here!) This is incredibly inspiring and uplifting. I could not be happier and more grateful for all the support this story has lately got from my friends and other readers alike. ♥

Fanart (!) for TTSS, and Pre-Nano Ramblings

My friend, HeavenlyEros, made this fabulous poster for TTSS! Eros also helped me create the cover for it, and performed many other feats of great art and friendship, some of which I mentioned before. The Mass Effect fandom is truly blessed to inspire such talented, devoted and kind creators — and so am I, to have such friends. ♥

Continue reading Fanart (!) for TTSS, and Pre-Nano Ramblings



Nihlus took a long shower. Real long. Half an hour, or more. It didn’t matter, while they were docked, Saren had said. They’d be leaving soon, though. They’d talk about the details later, he said. He mentioned the name of the place but Nihlus had forgotten it within five seconds. His mind was all jumbled up. He couldn’t recall that tune that had been on constant replay in his head for days, and he struggled to keep track of the damnedest things. Like whether he’d already washed under his crest or not. He looked at the soap dispenser, and—

Eventually, Saren had peeled him off and sat him down on the only chair in the room. The shakes were pretty bad, but he didn’t care. He had questions, so many questions! Only, all his language had slipped away. So he just sat there, gaping around at… his new home.

Continue reading Anchored



Saren jumped when the doorbell rang. The setting sun painted the cockpit with dense, gold rays. Dust motes danced in them. Saren sniffed the warm, stuffy air. There was a floral scent in it. The glass-wiping fluid. Traces of wiping, likely no more than a molecule-thick, fogged the main control panel when viewed in this light, from this angle. He blinked his sticky eyes open and unglued his sweaty back from the pilot chair’s overly enthusiastic embrace with a groan. How long had he slept? The light had been a completely different color the last time he’d seen it.

The bell rang again. He stood up and stretched, then tapped the unlock command on the control panel. He knew who it was. The outer hatch opened, then closed; he couldn’t quite hear it from the bridge but he could feel it through the fuselage. The airlock cycle would take a few seconds. He straightened his shirt and took one last critical look around. The inner door opened when he was halfway up the stairs.

Continue reading Sanctuary

Honey Moon


Okeer lounged in the massage chair. It was like a water bed, only it wasn’t water but some kind of soft memory foam, and it molded to the back side of his body down to the pores on the skin. It poked and prodded in all the right places and shivers of pleasure went through him in a continuous stream. The only thing he’d change about it was the purring noises that reminded him of turian voices.

Jedore walked past him. Her silken robe brushed his hand and the trail of her fruity perfume brushed his face. Her long hair hung in heavy ropes, still wet after bathing. She had some snack in one hand and a tiny bottle of something that looked like turian face paint in another. Why the fuck was his every second thought about turians?

Continue reading Honey Moon