Spotlight & Excerpt: Under Fortunate Stars + Giveaway

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This is my post during the blog tour for Under Fortunate Stars by Ren Hutchings. Under Fortunate Stars is a timey wimey space opera for lovers of Star Trek and Firefly.

This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours and the tour runs from 10 till 23 May. You can see the tour schedule here.

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Under Fortunate Stars
By Ren Hutchings
Age category: Adult
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing
Release Date: 10 May 2022

Blurb:
Two Ships. One Chance To Save The Future.

Fleeing the final days of the generations-long war with the alien Felen, smuggler Jereth Keeven’s freighter the Jonah breaks down in a strange rift in deep space, with little chance of rescue—until they encounter the research vessel Gallion, which claims to be from 152 years in the future.

The Gallion’s chief engineer Uma Ozakka has always been fascinated with the past, especially the tale of the Fortunate Five, who ended the war with the Felen. When the Gallion rescues a run-down junk freighter, Ozakka is shocked to recognize the Five’s legendary ship—and the Five’s famed leader, Eldric Leesongronski, among the crew.

But nothing else about Leesongronski and his crewmates seems to match up with the historical record. With their ships running out of power in the rift, more than the lives of both crews may be at stake…

Links:
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Excerpt:

UMA
Engineering Deck, ZeyCorp Gallion

Despite all the empty seats around the Engineering pit, Uma stood next to the captain as the rest of the crew filed in. With everyone assembled in one place, there was no denying just how tiny the Gallion’s turnover crew was.
The captain, two directors, eight engineers, Shaan, and Zel. Thirteen people and one android, that was everyone on board.
No. Fifteen people, Uma corrected herself. The Ambassador and the Voiced interpreter remained oblivious in their guest apartment. Uma couldn’t imagine how anyone was going to tell the diplomatic contingent about this.
She looked around at the crew. Wazar, the equipment team lead, was clutching a steaming hot beverage to her chest like some kind of elixir, her shock of blue-grey hair in disarray. The Cordero siblings, both of them engine techs, looked dazed and bleary-eyed after hours of repeated engine core resets. Even Zel was out of sorts, hovering anxiously at the edge of the pit. His usually-perfect coif was flat on one side, as if he’d slept on it.
By the time Director Barnabyn appeared—dressed in his formal blazer, just like the captain—the crew was abuzz with speculative conversation. Outside of a drill, Captain Fransk had never invoked an emergency Full Staff Assembly.
“Crew of the Gallion,” Fransk began. He drew in a long, laboured breath. “It’s been many hours since the event that knocked out our engines, and we haven’t yet restored our  connection to the network. We don’t know if our signals relaying our position have reached anyone. We have no idea where we are.” He paused. “We have a long list of serious problems. But none of those are the reason I called this assembly.”
Fransk’s gaze lingered on Uma for a moment, and she gave him a small, encouraging nod.
“The Gallion has picked up another ship’s distress call,” Fransk continued. “Dean alerted me and the directors. But… as our current crew is so small, I want to share what we know
with all of you before we make any decisions.”
A confused whisper rustled through the room.
“The transmission we received is of human origin, albeit using an antiquated comms protocol. It is the only external signal of any kind that we’ve received since our ship entered  the energy field.” Fransk turned to the android. “Dean? Show us the ship scan.”
Dean tapped two smooth fingers together to call up a projection. As it unfolded above the android’s hand, the image slowly resolved and enhanced, and the outline of a ship  appeared.
An unsettlingly familiar ship. The back of Uma’s neck prickled again.
“I’ve isolated the source of the signal and located the ship, eighty klicks away,” the android said. “You will note that this image quality is unusually poor. That is due in part to the interference from the energy field, but the ship also has two scan-jamming devices mounted on its cargo bay. The devices are of an extremely old make and quite inefficient, so this  hasn’t prevented us from mapping their hull.”
The image zoomed in and rotated. “It appears to be a small civilian ship,” Dean continued. “The hull profile suggests a short-haul freighter, 00Y class—a common war-era vessel. The best-known ship of this type is undoubtedly the one that carried the Fortunate Five to Etraxas at the end of the war. The Jonah.”
Uma thought of the small, silvery model of the Jonah that sat on the shelf in her apartment, and a chill squirmed down her spine.
“Of course, the Jonah was a very ordinary ship for its time. There were thousands made exactly like it.” The android paused. “Most of them would be long out of service by now, but a few may still be spaceworthy if they were well-maintained. This could also be a modern replica of the Jonah.”
“Replay the transmission, Dean,” Fransk said.
The android’s head bobbed, and the crackling recording began to play.
“Calling all channels, we have an emergency! This is the civilian cargo hauler Jonah. Is anybody out there? We’ve had a complete systems failure… ran into some type of… unusual  energy field… no power. If anyone’s receiving this, we need immediate assistance. This is an emergency. I repeat, this is Eldric Leesongronski of the Jonah, requesting assistance.”


Ren Hutchings

About the Author:
Ren Hutchings is a speculative fiction writer, writing mentor, and history grad. She spent most of the past decade working in game dev while also plotting twisty space novels. She loves pop science, unexplained mysteries, 90s music, collecting outdated electronics, and pondering about alternate universes. Ren always drafts out of order, and almost everything she writes ends up involving a dash of time travel.

Author links:
Website
Twitter
Instagram
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Giveaway
There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Under Fortunate Stars. One winner wins a paperback copy of Under Fortunate Stars. Open International.

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Spotlight, Excerpt, & Author Interview: Dark Factory + Giveaway

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DARK FACTORY
by Kathe Koja
RELEASE DATE: May 10, 2022
GENRE: Speculative Fiction / SciFi / LGBT / Literary

Welcome to Dark Factory! You may experience strobe effects, Y reality, DJ beats, love, sex, betrayal, triple shot espresso, broken bones, broken dreams, ecstasy, self-knowledge, and the void.

Dark Factory is a dance club: three floors of DJs, drinks, and customizable reality, everything you see and hear and feel. Ari Regon is the club’s wild card floor manager, Max Caspar is a stubborn DIY artist, both chasing a vision of true reality. And rogue journalist Marfa Carpenter is there to write it all down. Then a rooftop rave sets in motion a fathomless energy that may drive Ari and Max to the edge of the ultimate experience.

Dark Factory is Kathe Koja’s wholly original new novel from Meerkat Press, that combines her award-winning writing and her skill directing immersive events, to create a story that unfolds on the page, online, and in the reader’s creative mind.

Join us at DarkFactory.club. The story has already begun.

BUY LINKS: Meerkat Press | Amazon | Barnes & Noble


Excerpt:

“Ari! Hey Ari, how’s it going?”
“Hey,” his nod to the skinny DJ on the bench opposite Jonas’s office, blue glass walls half-covered with overlapping Dark Factory posters, the effect is like peering into a paper aquarium. “It’s going good. Tight.”
“I just got in from Chromefest, I played some crazy great shit,” the DJ digging into his bag, a dangle of fake gold giveaway charms, too many stickers, TOOT SWEET, U DONT REDLINE U DONT HEADLINE, pulling out a mix stick. “You got a minute?”
“Got a meeting,” with a shrug, a smile, his public smile—
—but inside the office no Jonas, only his spoor: empty NooJuice cans, Causabon trainers still new in the box, a white dinner jacket hung on the hulking recliner, and between the tilting piles on the blue glass table that is Jonas’s desk, two burner phones, both vibrating like wind-up toys: Ari takes up one, then the other, neither are numbers he knows. Also on the desk is a flat delivery box stacked with t-shirts, a new streamlined design, and “Y makes the logo move,” Jonas at the door, slamming the door, Jonas wearing last summer’s t-shirt, black and sleeveless beneath a clear plastic wrap jacket; with his hair sheared at the sides he looks like a brand-new cleaning brush, Ari hides a smile. “Lee thinks it’s too subtle. What do you think?”
“Not if it moves,” an answer and a parry, Jonas likes to test everyone, Ari most of all. “Chockablock thinks of everything.”
“And overcharges for everything too. Wear it around, see what people say,” and as Ari drapes a shirt around his neck, “I know it’s your day off, but I need you in the box tonight.”
“Just me?”
“You and whoever else I stick in there. Be good, or it’ll be Lee.”
“I don’t have a problem with Lee.”
“That’s not what she says.”
“Then that’s her problem.”
“True. Got a smoke? Darcy’s after me to quit,” as Ari offers one of the black blunts he gets from the boys in the clubs, Jonas rooting in the desk’s mess for an ashtray, and “Lee said,” Jonas’s shrug half-annoyed, ”some woman gave birth on the floor last night? To an actual baby? What a mess.”
And Ari laughs—“The Factory’s first natural-born citizen”—and after a moment Jonas laughs too: “Your brain, Ari, your fucking brain,” pulling out his real phone, a quick dictating bark, “Lee, find those baby people, give the baby free admission for life. Tell Media to make a big deal out of it—”
—as Ari exits in a puff of smoke and a flutter of posters, past the still-waiting DJ, and two runners toting scent canisters like oversized silver bullets, another runner wrangling a wobbling rack of boxed NooJuice, provided to the production in exchange for ad placement, another of Ari’s ideas that Jonas approves, Jonas drinks half a dozen cans of that swill a day. Lee drinks it too, though Ari knows she hates it; sometimes he catches Lee studying him when she thinks no one can see.
In the performers’ lounge he slips on the new t-shirt—a little loose across the chest, he likes his shirts tighter—smooths back his hair, then heads for the NOT AN EXIT sign over the loading dock doors: a delivery van rolling out, another just backing in that he sidesteps, out to the street, Neuberg Street . . . A teenager, the first time, he came here to drink cheap lager and fuck and dance to loud music with boys—he still fucks and dances, but Jonas has taught him something about wine, so he drinks that instead, chilled and white, it pairs nicely with the blunts—sixteen then and wide open, new to the scene, new to joy: his look changed, his slang, even his walk, more swagger, more aware of his body as he roamed past the schnapps bars and phone stores and crumbled brick alleys, the corner charging stations shaped like top hats where the boys hung out, flirting and sparring in the noise of sidewalk speakers and the whirring purr of the trains, the muezzin’s call floating over avenues of beech and linden trees and the black-washed façades of the remodeled industrial flats, cafés hot with espresso and frothing oat milk, and the clubs’ 4 a.m. aroma of lager and latex and Club-Mate, dancing panting bodies, moisturizer and tobacco and tears. And now these streets are his streets, he lives in one of those expensive flats, he has everything he wants in this world, almost everything.
The October sky is overcast as a tarnished mirror, heat still radiating from the pavement, he stops at a Kaffee Kart for an iced espresso and “Your shirt’s really cool,” says the freckled barista, as Ari records her reaction for Jonas’s eventual benefit. “Dark Factory! I’d go every weekend if I could, it’s like the world if the world was perfect. You go a lot?”
“I go every night. I work there.”
“You work at Dark Factory? Oh cool! What do you do?”
And Ari smiles, because there is no name for what he does, what he is, what Jonas needs most, what Lee for all her stats and apps and 24/7 devotion can never be: the bridge between the Factory and the world, a native of both because “I’m the ambassador,” he says, and lifts his cup to toast—the barista, the Factory, his job, himself—as a sudden gust of steam surrounds him, like a saint’s silver halo, or a personal storm.


Author Interview:

1. Tell us a little about how this story first came to be.
All my books start with a character, someone I see in my mind’s eye, wonder over, consider; then that character opens the door to others, to their world, and to the book. For Dark Factory it was Ari Regon, wild hair and that smile, this guy was clearly out to have some fun. So I followed him.

2. What, if anything, did you learn when writing the book?
Oh, what a great question. I learned that my immersive event work—I’ve produced and directed over twenty live performance events, in places like galleries, museums, a Victorian mansion, a historic church sanctuary—could merge with my writing, and people could be invited to interact with a book the same way they do at the live shows: immersive fiction! And Meerkat Press was one hundred percent collaboratively involved with the concept, creating the Dark Factory site to invite readers into the story from the jump.

3. What surprised you the most in writing it?
How BIG it was. It was a world that knew exactly what it wanted to be, and do—just like Ari, whose role in that world is as producer extraordinaire, always looking to create the unforgettable night—and just kept growing and morphing. That’s one reason it took me twice as long to write Dark Factory as any of my other novels, over three years.

4. If it’s not a spoiler, what does the title mean?
It has more than one meaning, but Max Caspar explains it better than anyone.

5. Were any of the characters inspired by real people?
None of the characters in the novel, but there are more than a few real people interviewed by Marfa Carpenter/McSq2 on the site: a tattoo artist, several professors, an arts journalist/editor, a sound designer, a ministry worker, all of them offering their real thoughts and opinions on life, art, and their own fields and disciplines. Immersive again.

6. Do you consider the book to have a lesson or moral?
That reality is a state more amazing than we ever believed.

7. What is your favorite part of the book?
Impossible to answer this one! But I do love the push-and-pull interactions between playful Ari and serious Max, on pretty much every topic, from the meaning of life to soba noodles.

8. Which character was most challenging to create? Why?
Definitely Marfa—her changes over the course of the novel took me by surprise, but looking back, those changes were always there, always part of who she was and could become. That’s the way for all of us, though, all the potential selves we could be, that we make with our choices, every day.

9. What are your immediate future plans?
We have multiple launches and events scheduled, into June and beyond, and new fan content coming for the site. So it’s all Dark Factory for now.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kathe Koja writes novels and short fiction, and creates and produces immersive fiction performances, both solo and with a rotating ensemble of artists. Her work crosses and combines genres, and her books have won awards, been multiply translated, and optioned for film and performance. She is based in Detroit and thinks globally. She can be found at kathekoja.com.

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Spotlight & Excerpt: Black Diamond and the Witch’s Curse

the black diamond and the witch's curse

Welcome to the book tour for The Black Diamond and the Witch’s Curse by Terrence Potter!

The Black Diamond and the Witch's Curse

The Black Diamond and the Witch’s Curse
Publication Date: October 27, 2021
Genre: Urban Fantasy/ Fantasy/ BIPOC

To most people, it appears as if Derek James is a typical college freshman. Yes, he is on a football scholarship at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, but other than that, he appears quite ordinary. But there is an extraordinary secret that Derek is harboring: he is a warlock! When he runs into fellow freshmen Matthias, Omar, and Tre’Vell, he is surprised to learn that they are also warlocks! Shortly after they all meet, however, the freshmen start getting attacked by terrifying monsters. Now, the four fast friends must overcome doubts and disagreements in order to discover the source of the attacks. But it may go deeper than any of them realize.


Excerpt:

Arrival

It  was  hot.  This  had  to  be  the  hottest  day  of  the  summer.  Even though Move-In Day for the rest of the students was still two weeks away, Derek James was moving into his dorm early, as was the case with the rest of the football team.

He was excited to be starting his first year of college at Word University, especially because he was finally getting out from under his mother’s overprotective eye.

“Mom, I really didn’t need you to help me move in. I got it,” Derek said. “Boy, if I let you move in by yourself, who knows what your room’s gonna look like? Besides, I want to meet your roommate,” his mother, Valerie James, responded.

“Dad trusted me. I asked him not to come, and he didn’t.”

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Valerie said. “And I gotta make sure that my baby is all right.”

“Mom, I’m eighteen. Can you not call me ‘baby’?” Derek sighed.

“I’m your mother. You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get.” “That don’t mean you gotta call me that,” Derek grumbled.

“Whatever. Don’t back talk. Now, are we gonna put these things in your room or are we gonna stand here at the car talking all day?”

Derek’s room was on the fifth f loor, the highest f loor in the dorm. Derek looked up at the stately building, with the sun glistening off the windows, and thought that maybe he could use the help. “Okay, I’ll carry the minifridge up. You can take that trunk of clothes. I’ll meet you up there. Remember, it’s room 510B,” Derek decided. As he watched his mom carry the trunk into the building, he wiped the sweat from his brow. Man, he just couldn’t believe how hot it was!

Just as he was about to pick up the fridge, he noticed a couple of girls watching him, probably cheerleaders, also moving in that day. He took his shirt off, which by now was drenched, and revealed his impressive athlete’s physique. He heard the girls start to giggle. Satisfied, he smirked, tossed the shirt into the car, picked up the minifridge, and made his way up the steps to meet his mom at his room.

As he made his way up to the top of the stairs, Derek could see his mom standing at the door of what he could only presume was his room. As he walked down the hallway, he saw his mom give him a look that made him feel this big. When he got to his room, Derek dropped the fridge with a thud! and glanced up at his mom.

“Derek, what are you doing with your shirt off?” Valerie admonished. “Man, it’s burning up outside! My shirt felt like I just took it out the washing machine!” Derek said.

“It ain’t that hot outside. You know I ain’t raise you like that. You ain’t the only person out here!”

“Mom, it’s like one hundred degrees outside and I ain’t want my shirt to be sticking to me. It’s not that big a deal,” Derek pleaded.

She sighed. “Just open the door,” Valerie said as she shook her head in disapproval.

Derek took the key from his pocket and opened the door to his dorm. Inside the room were two wooden desks, two dressers, and two closets. The walls were stark white. It was plain, but Derek had to admit that it was bigger than he had expected. It was bigger than his room at home. He had to keep in mind, though, that unlike at home, he had to share this with another person.

“How much more stuff do you have to bring up?” Valerie asked.

“Well, I got my TV, book bag, the rest of my clothes, and the book,” answered Derek.

“Oh my god! I don’t feel like going back up and down those steps,” exclaimed Valerie.

“Look, you the one that wanted to help me move in. Besides, I could be up and back by myself real quick,” suggested Derek.

“No.”

“But since I been up here, I can do it. It’s not that far and—” Derek started. “No, Derek! What if somebody saw you? Don’t risk it. It’s just one more trip.

I’m just getting old, is all. Don’t mind my complaining,” Valerie said. “Come on.” After bringing up the rest of Derek’s stuff, it was time for Valerie to go. “Okay, are you sure you got everything?” “Yes, Mom.”

“Laptop? Toothpaste? Deodorant?” “Yes, Mom.”

“Razor?”

“Yes.” “Condoms?”

“What? Come on, Mom!”

“Well, like you said, you’re eighteen. I went to college. I know what’s up,” Valerie said.

“I’m gonna act like we ain’t really talking about this,” said Derek, desperately wishing his mom would change the subject.

“Okay, I can take a hint. And you’re sure you have the book? And anything else you would need?” Valerie inquired.

“Yeah. Positive.”

“I still can’t believe your dad let you take it with you,” Valerie said.

“I guess he figured that I’m old enough for the responsibility,” said Derek. “Guess so,” Valerie said as her eyes began to well up with tears.

“Aw come on, Mom, don’t start crying.”

“I can’t help it. My baby is all grown up and leaving me.”

“Mom, it’s not that far away. And you know I can always pop in whenever I want. It’s close enough for me to make the trip.”

“I know. Okay, give me a hug before I go.” Derek gave his mom a big warm hug. She got into her car and Derek waved as her car slowly faded into the distance.

Derek turned to go back up to his room. As he began to make his way up the steps leading to the front entrance, a black Nissan Altima rolled past a couple of cars filled with other students in the process of moving in and pulled up in the fire lane in front of the building. What was intriguing to Derek about this car was that the driver had Kendrick Lamar’s “Backseat Freestyle” blasting from the speakers. Derek could appreciate this guy’s taste in music! He walked up to the car as the driver, a stocky-looking guy, got out.

“Ay yo, you ride with Kendrick Lamar?” Derek asked, impressed. “Of course, my brotha. You a fan?” the driver asked.

“Man, I got Good Kid, M.A.A.D City in heavy rotation on my iPod,” Derek responded.

“Oh a’ight. I been a fan of Kendrick since Section.80,” the guy said. “I assume you’re on the football team.”

“Yeah, wide receiver. You?” “Running back.”

“Cool, cool. I’m Derek, by the way,” Derek said as he introduced himself. “I think my roommate’s name is Derek. My name is Bruce. Bruce Graves.” “Yup, I’m definitely your roommate. Well, I just got done putting my stuff up in the room. If you want, I can help you carry some stuff up,” Derek offered. “Okay, good looking out,” Bruce said, relieved he had some help.

After Derek and Bruce were finished unloading Bruce’s car, they decided to arrange the room to their liking. Bruce said, “Let’s put my bed on that wall and yours on the opposite one. That way, we could put the desks right near the windows and the TV can go on the refrigerator in the corner.”

“Okay, I’m good with that. I’ll put my dresser by my bed. I kind of figured that these walls were gonna be bare so I brought us some posters to liven up the place,” Derek said. He threw up some posters of scantily clad chocolate-skinned models and celebrity females.

“Definitely better,” Bruce said approvingly. Derek laughed. “I thought you’d approve.”

As the two started to unpack their belongings, Bruce noticed a strange- looking book that fell out of Derek’s backpack. “What type of classes are you taking?” Bruce asked. “You already got some of your books?”

“Why?” Derek turned and asked.

Bruce pointed to Derek’s backpack. “Did you get to register early? What class takes that book? That jawn looks cool,” Bruce said. The book was large and looked about four inches thick. It was a hardback, yet bound in black leather. On the cover was a picture of a majestic roaring golden lion, with a clawed paw raised toward the sky. Bruce thought the book looked old.

Derek quickly moved to pick up the book and put it back in the backpack. “Nah, this book is mine. My dad gave it to me. It’s kind of a family heirloom,” Derek nervously said.

“Heirloom?” Bruce asked perplexingly.

“Yeah,” Derek responded. “It’s been passed down in my family since we was brought over from Africa. It means a lot.”

“Yo, that’s cool. Can I see?” Bruce asked.

“Um,” Derek hesitated. “It’s just my dad has this thing about nobody else handling it. Like I said, it’s real old and real important.”

Bruce looked slightly disappointed. “Oh. No problem. I understand.” An uncomfortable and awkward silence settled between the two.

“So where you from?” Derek asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I was born in Pittsburg,” Bruce answered. “I’ve lived in Philly for the past twelve years though. You?”

“Oh, I’m from right here, Pottington. I actually live, like, a couple miles from here.”

“Oh, so you know your way around this city. Know all the places to go where all the honeys at, am I right?” Bruce joked.

“Of course. This is my city. I got you covered,” Derek said. “But I got a feeling that you won’t have to go far to find a lot of bad chicks, if you know what I’m saying,” Derek suggestively offered.

“You think the girls at this school got it like that?” Bruce asked.

“Look, dawg. Not only do they look good, but you gotta remember that Word U is the best HBCU in the nation. These chicks got their heads on straight and the looks to match,” said Derek.

“Shit, well, if that’s the case, I think I’m gonna have a very fun year,” Bruce said.

Bruce’s stomach began to growl. “I’m about to go get something to eat,” he said.

“Okay, I already ate. I’ll holla at you later,” Derek said.

As soon as Bruce left the room, Derek booted up his laptop. Once he was logged on, he opened a Skype chat; and soon enough, a man appeared on the screen on the other end of the call. In the background were a few portraits and a TV. It appeared to be a living room. The chocolate-skinned man, the same complexion as Derek himself, was wearing a white undershirt and looked to be in his mid-forties. He had sprinkles of gray in his hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. A thin pair of reading glasses covered a pair of eyes that would lead someone to believe that this man had seen a lot in life.

The man smiled. “I was wondering when you would finally get around to calling me,” he said.

Derek laughed. “What’s up, Dad?”

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About the Author

T-Pot

Terrence, born to Shawn and Clarence Potter in 1990, lived in Wilmington, Delaware, until the age of seven, when he moved to New Castle. He graduated from Howard High School before moving on the University of Delaware, graduating in 2012. He decided to begin his writing career a year after that. He chose to create fantasy stories featuring characters from under-represented and minority populations. His first book in the Black Diamond series, The Black Diamond and the Witch’s Curse, was published in 2016. The second, The Black Diamond and the Magic box, was published in 2019.

The Black Diamond Series


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