Just Another Victim of Reality (Waifs & Strays Book 2)

A dangerous mystery on the edge of Deep Space

Asher’s new client brings her back to the unpredictable Rumple Zone, and Shakbout is on babysitting duty—until everything changes. With their infant son Thimble in tow, they’re soon swept into a web of hidden agendas, mysterious deaths, and covert operations. A call from Pearl Abeline of the Trans Dimensional Board sets them on a path toward SunSide, an artificial planet near Deep Space, where allies are scarce and threats multiply.

While Asher makes progress on her contract with the help of a hired freelance crew, Shakbout dives into a side mission that reveals disturbing truths. From strange bottle farms to blood charm factories, slaver plots to state security sabotage, their discoveries uncover a reality more twisted and dangerous than they imagined. And when Shakbout is kidnapped and thrown into the hands of Deep Space powers with scores to settle, survival hinges on quick thinking, risky alliances, and sheer will.

Just Another Victim of Reality continues the fast-paced Waifs & Strays trilogy by Conor H. Carton, bringing Asher, Shakbout, and Thimble into direct confrontation with forces that want them broken—or worse.

Available now — begin the next chapter of the Waifs & Strays trilogy.

Excerpt from the book

I had not expected to be back in the Rumple Zone again in my lifetime. Asher told me it would just be a client meeting to discuss a brief, so we could extend the trip to a family holiday in the Ausberge Settlement. We had never had a family holiday before, so I was looking forward to the experience. It was just a minor detour into the Rumple Zone, nothing more. As it was not a work trip we had left Tobel behind, Samfor was in town, and I had no doubt they would be glad of time alone together. The HR department had tied itself in knots trying to process my leave application. It took a directive from the Overseer to cut through it all. I was on administrative leave, available to be called back whenever the Overseer wanted me.

I knew Asher had been waiting to return to work and I hoped that this would be an action-free assignment. Sitting outside the office of Goldcarp Killson, the owner of the More to Life company based in Allerton in the Rumple Zone, I was planning some visits to site of interest that were within reach of the Ausberge Settlement.

The door to Goldcarp’s office opened and a tall, slim, natural-born male lifeform, wearing More to Life-branded robes, called out Asher’s name. Asher stood. I remained seated with Thimble in a sling on my chest. Asher looked at me and spoke. “You are coming too.”

I was surprised; Asher was usually private about her work. The lifeform held the office door open and closed it behind us. Goldcarp Killson was an unusual lifeform. He was a clone. At one point, cloning had been prevalent in the Inhabited Systems before the development of Brewing led to the severe narrowing of the meaning of natural-born. Cloning became extinct as a process in the Inhabited Systems, though it kept a tiny foothold in the Rumple Zone. Had I not known in advance that Goldcarp was a clone, I would have taken him for a natural-born human.

Goldcarp was standing beside his desk and stepped forward to greet us. He extended his hand with a smile. He was two metres tall, with deep black hair, olive skin, black eyes, and a prominent nose. Goldcarp was wearing tailored robes that appeared to be both luxurious and comfortable.

“Asher Forest, welcome. Your work in the Ablrgisian Plain fiasco remains the standard by which we judge others. Apologies for gushing. I can see that you have your hands full. We are very grateful that you will hear our request.”

Asher nodded at Goldcarp’s words. Turning to me, she said,

“This is my life partner, Shakbout Mansard, and our son, Thimble.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” Goldcarp said, reaching out a hand to shake mine. Then he hesitated before continuing. “Are you Investigator Mansard? The Bodies Royal have spoken about you in the warmest terms as the most trustworthy and competent investigator.”

Flattery works. I was being handled, and I knew it. Still, it was professional handling. Asher said later that the smile and hint of blush on my face were just adorable.