Turn the page to enter the contemporary world of bakeries in Wisconsin.

Bakery Wars

Chapter 1 - Hope Retreats

Chapter 2 - A Night On The Town

Books In the Magic Of The Galaxy Series

Series 1: Viera Kor

Book 1: Galaxy Lessons

Book 2: Magic Lessons

Book 3: Conflict Lessens

Acknowledgement

This book is the end of the trilogy. I am in talks with my writing team to create more in this world. You are welcome to find me on facebook or my website to let me know your opinion one way or the other.

As always, I am forever grateful for the help, encouragement, brilliance, and laughs I get from wise and wonderful people, such as Weslee Imrisek, Angela Grimes, Nicole Maness, Lawrence Henry, Gavin Rahr, and many others. Without these people, this series would not be what it is.

As much as I love writing, the people who this crazy world has brought into my life is even better! I love you all!

Chapter 1 - Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Viera

“So, you called us here for an emergency meeting for a single alien bug, Ms. Doeth?” The government man’s lip twitched as he tapped his pen on the long mahogany table—too long for the few people attending the meeting. His short dark hair and brown eyes looked dull, as exciting as his personality. He held his face in a generic, if not very plastic looking, welcoming position. “You know we’re busy. Just because you have access to government officials, and somehow got the position as alien liaison at your tender age, doesn’t give you the right to rile up the troops at any drop of the hat.”

Betsy’s mouth tightened. Viera thought her friend might lay a curse on the man. Can she lay curses? Is that even a thing? Betsy straightened and narrowed her eyes. “Mr. Pilsner, I don’t know what my age has to do with anything, but I think you should consult your predecessor’s notes. As for one alien bug as you so nicely summarized, the krottel are a hive species. One bug means there are more we need to worry about. If not on-planet, then they’ll be here soon. We know they want to invade our planet—”

“But they won’t, right?” he interrupted. He leaned back, probably not wrinkling his expensive-looking black suit. “Your report—this report,” he tapped a folder with the end of his pen, “the one you submitted after your friend here left the planet and got our planet on the radar of these creatures … you know what report I’m talking about?”

Viera blanched. Betsy submitted reports to this asshole? She gave him reports about me? Me and my situation? He knows I was taken aboard Thorn’s ship over spring break and whisked away to Torville Station Number Six? Goodness. What else does this jerk know? How many people have heard or read about the chanzii, teleportation, and do they know what GPS really stands for?

Betsy smirked. “Mr. Pilsner, you’ve been on this job for, what, two years?”

“Yes, what about that?” He narrowed his eyes at her, seemingly uncertain where she was going. Viera wasn’t sure either, but Betsy’s attitude had clearly shifted.

“You have other responsibilities. Working with me and the other Pillars is only a small piece of your duties. Am I correct?” She asked the question so lightly, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. It’s a trap! Run, government man, run! Even my students would know to be scared.

“Yes, Ms. Doeth, I have real responsibilities. You’re barely a blip on my radar.”

Betsy’s smile grew. “Perfect.” She pulled out her phone and started typing.

“What are you doing, Ms. Doeth?” He sounded bored, but maybe a bit curious. Nothing he said or did convinced Viera he cared one way or the other. Betsy warned me not to probe inside these walls and read anyone, but can he really be this blasé? No one can be that simple.

Betsy ignored him.

He leaned forward, face tightening, head tilting.

Viera glanced back and forth between them like a silent tennis match. What is Betsy doing? We’re here for a reason, right? Shouldn’t we—she—be doing more?

After a few minutes, Mr. Pilsner, who had finally stopped fidgeting, started tapping his pen on the table again. Betsy continued to ignore him. Is she playing on her phone? Is she seeing how far she can push him? Is this a test?

Finally, Mr. Pilsner sighed, long and loud. “Ms. Doeth, I’m really a very busy man. I have other appointments—important work to do. If you’re going to play on your phone, then I’m afraid I have to leave.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Betsy casually looked up from her phone, as if surprised the man was still in the room. “Mr. Pilsner, as my friend would say in her other job, you’re dismissed. I have requested,” she tilted her head in his direction, “a new point of contact from your boss. I made sure he understood that anyone assigned to this position has a basic working knowledge of respect. If I ever bring this person in front of the aliens and they act like you,” she barked out a laugh, then shook her head, “you wouldn’t survive the meeting.”

“What?” He blustered. “You can’t fire me. You don’t have that kind of authority.”

“Oh, but that’s what you don’t understand, Benedict. I do. I have the ultimate authority here. I am also older than anyone in this building. I outrank everyone here. You should’ve read the file.” With a snort, Betsy went back to her phone.

Benedict snapped his eyes to Viera. I wonder if his friends call him Benny. His name is so uptight. Then again, so is he. “Are you older than dirt as well, Ms. Kor?”

It took a lot of effort not to roll her eyes at him. “I understand basic respect and proper questions, Mr. Pilsner. I’m not sure how you were assigned this position; it is one of honor and prestige. The fact that you would squander it baffles me. I would say it was nice meeting you, but we both know that’s a lie. I do hope you mature and grow from this.”

As she finished her words, the door opened, and an even younger man walked in. If Benedict was in his thirties, the other man was at most thirty. He had dark auburn hair that matched the freckles that ran across his cheeks and nose. His sparkling blue eyes took in the room before he walked up to Betsy. “Ms. Doeth, my name is Juk Hopkins. You can call me Juk or Mr. Hopkins, whichever you prefer. I know you’ve called my last three predecessors, barring Benedict, by their first names, so I’d be happy if you called me Juk. I’ve read all your files and am thrilled to be called in to meet you.”

Betsy twined her fingers together in front of her face and gazed at the man. “Why did you read the files if I was working with this lout?”

“I was assigned as back-up for the times he wasn’t available. We were both given the files and told to learn what we could.” He stood so tense, Viera’s muscles ached in sympathy.

“Three predecessors?” Benedict bellowed. “For fuck’s sake, Juk, what are you talking about? These women are as young as us. Are you daft?”

Juk slowly turned to his colleague. “Right. You’re needed upstairs.”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

He shook his head. “As in, they requested your presence now. If you want to keep your job, you should run.”

The color drained from Benedict’s face as he quickly gathered his stuff and scurried from the room.

Betsy sipped the glass of water they’d each been offered when they’d arrived. “Okay, Juk, sit. And relax before you have an aneurysm, or some other medical mishap.”

Juk chuckled and sat, placing a file, a pad of paper, and a few pens and pencils on the table. “Okay, what were you discussing?”

Betsy sighed and looked at Viera.

Viera shrugged. “There is an alien species called the krottel. They’re a bug-like creature that wants Earth for themselves. Though the Elders, a group of aliens with clout, told them to back down, we found a krottel on an island off the Gulf Coast.”

Juk put down his pen and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, so you found a single bug. But did you find more? A hive?”

Betsy’s hands fisted but she spoke calmly. “No, but the bugs can speak telepathically. We’re sure that bug was a scout and the rest plan to invade.”

Juk went back to taking notes. “The rest? All of the krottel, or like, a single ship? What sort of scale are we talking about? And when?”