Larriane Wills a.k.a. Larion Wills

Author of contemporary and historical romance, sci-fi, and fantasy.

Bonds of Time


The world as we know it has come to an end!


Judith gave up on the world long before those fools destroyed it. She didn’t run out of her forest looking for survivors, didn’t seek out those she knew of. She wanted nothing to do with any human until Garth fell out of the sky. He aroused one emotion she had left, curiosity. Where did he come from and how did he get there? Why did he have a perfect adult body and the mind of a child? What terrified him? To get the answers she must first educate him and then protect him from the survivors down the mountain, wanting a healthy, mature male to rebuild the human race.


With a shudder, Judith looked up as the air changed. Her skin felt as if it crawled over the muscles beneath. She rubbed her arms, knowing what it was even if she didn’t understand what caused it. The hair on her body caused the sensation; all of it stood on end. Something was making a static electrical field.

A rumbling sounded like thunder in a cloudless sky. A flash lit the area, more akin to heat lightning than an electrical charge, and a body fell to the ground from some twelve feet or so above, coming from nothingness. Her hair settled, the sound disappeared, and there were no more flashes.

Just the body.

She stared at it, and it wasn’t what she expected. Aside from something abnormal, one didn’t expect what appeared to be a perfectly normal human being to fall out of the sky.

He appeared to be a normal, though superior in body structure, with facial features more regular than most. Still not abnormal. Obviously one male still lived who was not old and decrepit, but where did he come from? And how, in this world, before or now, did the technology exist to drop him there?

His chest rose and fell, his breathing erratic. The trip, wherever it had been from, did not seem to have been an easy one.

She hesitated briefly before shrugging slightly and touching him. If he was contaminated, it could be a way out for her, a way to die.

Rolling him over, she took his pulse, peeked under his eyelids, and felt his skin. He was in shock of some kind, strengthening her theory it hadn’t been an easy trip. He had no detectable broken bones, no fever, and no indication of infection.

His only identification was a patch on the front of his shirt with the name Garth, a meaningless hyphenated abbreviation and a number. The clothes were interesting, though not as interesting as the metal ring around his neck. She’d never seen the coarse material the pajama style shirt and pants were made of, though only noticing in passing. The ring drew and held her attention. Made of a cold metal, it was not jewelry. The ring wouldn’t move up or down more than slightly, anchored in some way at the back of his neck.

One emotion had not died in Judith, curiosity. The ring fascinated her. She pushed the man to his side and to examine it further. The strange necklace ran through a smaller ring protruding from a plate implanted beneath the skin at the back of his neck. On his side without his weight on it, the ring would slide through the small ring, allowing an up and down motion in the front, all the movement it allowed. The large ring was firmly attached, with no seam she could detect. Whoever put it there meant for it to stay.

  She eased back a few feet when the man stirred, to observe his reaction.  Wonder gave a childlike quality to what she admitted was a handsome face until he saw her. His face contorted into terror controlled, transforming into anger. He started up only to fall, and when he realized he didn’t have the strength to run from her, he crawled, dragging himself away, staring at her belligerently over his shoulder.

He wasn’t mute. “Trick,” he retorted.

“Falling out of the sky the way you did was some trick. Where did you come from?”





Francine "Tsukime" rated it 4 of 5 stars
Deeply moving and insightful, this story about life after the holocaust shows how desperation and lack of bare necessities affects people’s attitude and behavior. In the inevitable pandemonium, an unexpected meeting of souls happens between an unfortunate, unfeeling research experiment and a lost, child-like man from the future. Together they brave the elements and learn that love can withstand even the test of time.

The Bastards of Ran

Now in print:  buy link: Amazon

Another by Larriane, a science fiction.
Deceit and betrayal end in torture, Jaylon suffers all because a legend promised the return of the Bastards of Ran.

From the atrocities of war a decision was made to save their race and their world. Protection of those of paramount value must be assured by any means. Ships orbiting their planet were built. Only when their planet would not support even war, the last and lowest, the military, were sent to the ships. From the age of seven when his training began, Jaylon knew only military. Guard duty in the Paramount lounge should have been easy duty though he was warned by his peers to never trust the Paramounts, especially the woman. Many played a game, flirt with military, and report them for punishment for breaches of protocol. His secret assignment, discover the trickster and the method behind the self-moving, sometimes attacking objects. From the first night, Tieanna caught his attention. She didn’t flirt. She tormented, using a formidable weapon, the truth. Hidden behind the lies, corruption, and betrayal of all but the chosen few, was the Paramounts’ fear, resurrection of the Bastards of Ran. Surely they and their powers were no more than legend. Who could believe in powers of the telepathic mind to healing with the touch of their hands? Jaylon did not. Still, if the belief of the Bastards, and their belief all were equal, revived then too would revolt and treason?


“Meeting closed, dismissed,” the governor said. He quickly amended the order when Jaylon was the first to turn to go. “You stay, trooper.”

Governor Edwrin loosened his collar as he leaned back in his chair. The man was not nearly as pompously formal in private. The change didn’t mean Jaylon cared for or trusted him more. Even informal, he was offensively condescending.

“At rest, trooper.” He waited while Jaylon spread his feet and clasped his hands behind his back. “I want to know what you’re seeing, in your words.”

“I don’t know what you mean…sir.”

“The people, damn it, what do you see in their faces?”

“Fear and curiosity primarily while it’s happening,” Jaylon answered truthfully. “A restlessness when it isn’t. Some of your people appear to have difficulty sleeping. There’s a lot of movement during the night, although much of it does not reach into the lounge, and they exhibit shortness with one another.”

“Go on,” he urged when Jaylon paused.

“I don’t see anything malicious in the incidents. Only two were directed at a specific person, without intent to injure.”

“Didn’t you say you saw fear in some of the faces?”

“From not knowing what’s doing it, not of injury, a condition which would disappear as soon as you release the information on how it’s being done,” he stated, baiting the man.

The governor’s eyes dropped. “Such a disclosure would alert the culprit to the fact we do know.”

Certain they didn’t, Jaylon baited further and said, “Surely knowing how gives you a clue as to who it is by the knowledge they’d need to accomplish it.”

“We have some of the most brilliant minds in the universe on this ship. I can name you ten who are as good in one field as they are in another.”

Jaylon could say the same for more than ten in the trooper’s section. He held the thought and asked, “Why is it being done?”

“Have you ever heard of the Air Dancers?”

One corner of Jaylon’s mouth lifted in reaction. “The Wane King was centuries ago and a fairy tale,” he commented dryly, holding back his opinion of a mythical race of people with the power of making things dance in the air with their thoughts.

“Horror story,” he corrected.

On the verge of saying if any of it was true, the horror was in what was done to those people, Jaylon wisely held his tongue yet again.

“They were the essence of evil,” the governor went on, “using charades and theatrics to control ignorant peasants. If they had not been destroyed, our world would have been far different than it is.”

As far as Jaylon was concerned not much could be worse. Their world didn’t exist anymore. What survivors there were lived on ships with a rigid caste system, the lower classes being controlled by the higher, with fear between castes and within castes, with little to see in the future. Even if they were going to another planet, as Tieann’s words implied, not orbiting their own war devastated one, he didn’t see the Wane King could have done any more damage.

“From the marker you left in the book, I could see you hadn’t gotten far enough to read of the atrocities those witches committed.”

The comment let Jaylon know what had happened to the book they’d never returned to him. He finished the second Tri Ed Tieann sent to him, the one he suspected the governor didn’t have knowledge of since it was delivered during one of the times the guard-eye was out. From it he knew more of the history of the Wane King followers. They had been accused of some atrocities, while the real horrors had been committed against them, not by them.

“Sacrifices and torture,” the governor went on.

The Wanes did not make or advocate sacrifices, human or animal, and the only torture had been done to them. Jaylon, however, did not argue the points made by the governor.

“When they attempted their revolution, any who opposed them were murdered by the thousands, men, women, and children.”

They were murdered by the thousands, again a correction Jaylon did not bother to make. He asked instead, “What do fables have to do with what happened in the lounge?”

“We believe an attempt to revive the Wane King cult is being made, using the sciences to produce false claims of supernatural powers.”

The corner of Jaylon’s mouth twitched again. They didn’t know how it was being done any more than they knew who.

“Greed, trooper, and a desire for power are behind this. We must stop it before whoever it is gets a foothold and more lives are lost because of an ancient religion based on fear and superstition.”

According to the legends he’d read, and heard all his life, it wasn’t a religion. In the simplest terms, it was a race. Though there were many who had adopted their philosophy, they had not possessed the special abilities legend attributed to the Wanes.

“We cannot have this spread to the lower classes; why you have been ordered not to discuss anything you see and why I confiscated the book Tri Ed Tieann so carelessly gave to you. Why she chose that particular volume for a trooper is beyond me. I can think of any number of subjects more appropriate.”

Jaylon didn’t ask appropriate in what way. He knew he wouldn’t like the answer. “She didn’t choose it,” he told him. “It happened to be the nearest to hand when the subject of a trade came up.” Not a lie, it was the top book when she insisted he take at least one of the two.

“Have you made any other trades?”

“No, sir,” he said, not a lie, either. The others had traded; he had not, and the second book had been a gift.

“Good. I believe it’s better if the classes do not inter-relate on any level. They are simply incapable of understanding one another. Any contact can only lead to problems such as occurred on your second night.”

While the problem had been occurring, Jaylon would have agreed without a second thought. He would have believed a Paramount could not have anything in common with anyone in the military, or any other lower class, or have any degree of regard for anyone they considered inferior. Since the assignment he saw things differently. Them, as individuals.


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MaryAndrews  (Wednesday, 06 February 2013) 
Rating: 5 
Strange things are happening aboard one of the orbiting ships which have survived the great war. Among the uppermost class, there are rumors of a poltergeist or telekinetic pranks. The ship's Governor, wanting to put a stop to it, assigns a freshly demoted military officer to stand guard and spy on them. Resented by his peers and abhorred by his 'betters' a demoted officer, Jaylon, trooper third class, struggles to survive and make sense of his assignment.rnrnI really enjoyed reading Bastards of Ran.rnrnLarriane Wills succeeds in creating a story full of mysteries to be unraveled at every turn by a modest but larger-than-life character. The Bastards of Ran is an excellent read which keeps you wondering, literally, to the very last page.rn

Looking Glass Portal

The pig-man dragged Garrett by his hair to the rock where he had sat moments before and propped him against it like a floppy, rag doll. The thing backed off and grunted while blunt, square-shaped hands dug through its fur covering to pull out a slim, narrow box. What looked to be no more than a spot of light shot out, and a rapid succession of grunts followed as the thing leaned down to lift Garrett’s arm for Garrett to see what he had done.

This can't be real, Garrett thought. He must be delirious, or in the grip of a nightmare. No spot of light could punch through flesh and bone leaving his arm hanging, bloodlessly, attached below the elbow on only a thin string of flesh. That was something straight out of Star Wars, and he wasn’t in any movie. It couldn’t be real. He had to wake up. Boss’s screams were real. They had fallen. That had to be what had happened. He was unconscious, and Boss was hurt. He had to wake up.

The thing stepped back, pointed the box, and a second spot of light shot out. The same succession of grunts sounded as it moved back. Garrett decided it had to be a sick laugh as the thing grabbed him by the hair and pushed his head down to see the bigger hole neatly punched through the right side of his chest.

“Let me wake up!” Garrett’s mind screamed.

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