Del Sol SFF Review

I’m called Guerra the BridgeMaker. I’ve accomplished something no other lost soul ever has. I’ve broken through the barriers that separate the Nine Rings of Hell. All it cost was the afterlife of the people who followed me. But this isn't that story. This story is about what happened next.  A thunderous boom echoes across the desert as the nighttime sky shatters. Ayala's limp body passes through one Ring of Hell and into another. Close behind her is what is left of our cohorts. Their torn and shredded bodies are now nothing more than a bloody slush. The half-eaten face of Whatever-His-Name-Is spins through the air like a flipping coin. Too bad he already lost the toss. I follow behind them all, careening through the air, still holding on to Whatever-Her-Name's hand and severed forearm.  As I soar across the splintered midnight sky, I watch it stitch itself back together. Turning my head, I see the soft mango-colored dunes getting closer. I can't help but smile at my acc...

Griffin Jackson sat in a metal chair, at a metal table, in a metal room. That was the limit of his knowledge on the subject of location. A metal door opened and a short man in a dark suit entered. “Good morning, Mr. Jackson. I’m Smith, with the UN agency for Cygnoid affairs. How are you today?” “I’m apparently incarcerated today, Mr. Smith. How are you?” “Funny. They told me you were funny.” “Who told you?” “The Cygnoids. We’re in one of their ships, in orbit.” “Really? Is there a window?” “This is a serious situation, Mr. Jackson, there are diplomatic issues.”  “Call me Griff, everyone calls me Griff. Now, how about getting me out of here.” “That is not going to happen right now, Griff. I’m here to take your statement.” “Regarding?” “Regarding the events that led to your detention.” “You’re going to have to help me out, Mr. Smith. I don’t know why I’m here.” “I’ll start then,” said Smith. “You are the manager of the Pennock Farmers Market?” “Yes, for the past eight years.” “Tell m...