Spotlight & Excerpt: Quantum Cannibals + Giveaway


I am thrilled to be hosting a spot on the QUANTUM CANNIBALS by Nathan Elberg Blog Tour hosted by Rockstar Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!

(Stories from the Milky Way Book 1)

Author: Nathan Elberg

Pub. Date: August 16, 2020

Publisher: Taiku

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 487

Find it: GoodreadsAmazon, Kindle, B&N, KoboTBD,

In the Stone Age Arctic, Osnat, a brilliant, pregnant, quantum scientist knows where she is but she doesn’t know when. A mysterious technology has exiled her and her people across time to a frigid wasteland above the northern radiation belts. She and her husband Simon search for food, warmth, for any kind of help. They find instead a band of indigenous Tunniq who attack, rather than assist. Though she craves vengeance, Osnat realizes that the murderous savages are the help her people need to survive. The conflict between need and ideals tears at her as she learns their ways. Must Osnat become a brutal savage in order to save her people?

Quantum Cannibals weaves a series of intersecting stories that span time, from Bronze Age Mesopotamia to a Post-Modern city-state. It’s the epic story of three incarnations of two people: alternately son and mother, husband and wife, father and daughter, savage and scholar, who simply want to return to the home they were brutally evicted from. Quantum Cannibals brings together authentic cultures and history from the far reaches of the world, from the far reaches of time.


“Set over a large span of time: from Bronze Age Mesopotamia to a Post-Modern city-state, this debut of Nathan Elberg is a dazzling expedition into a treacherous past…Elberg’s outstanding fluency when writing in various characters’ voices, who are born in different time periods is instantly absorbing, and he is brilliant when it comes to developing the mythologies of different cultures and societies. He proficiently balances time travel and magic with precise historical research, complex plot, intricate worldbuilding, and top-of-the-line characterization.” —Prairies Book Review

“The author pulls it all together, however, in admirable fashion through solid characterization; the sweeping mix of science, mythology, history; and precise, yet metaphor-filled writing. Those willing to decipher it all will be greatly rewarded.” —Kirkus Reviews



There was no way to appease the Bear. All it was interested in was her life. She crouched down, prepared to spring to battle. And she prayed that she be spared. In the merit of any good that she’d ever done in her life, in the merit of her ancestors, please send salvation.

The animal’s growls were now a low rumble. She could sense it circling her little shelter, sniffing at its prey. She turned to follow, backing off the little she could from wherever it was, her small, fractured spear clutched in her mitts.

Half the shelter collapsed under massive white and red forelegs that smashed through the top, a roar of rage coming from the animal’s throat. Bright, fresh blood soaked the snow as Osnat’s broken harpoon headed towards the beast’s right eye. It barely acknowledged the attack.

It didn’t make sense. There were copious amounts of blood all over the bear before her spear even touched it. It must be hers, but then she should be in pain, she should feel weak.

Aarluk scowled at Osnat through the smashed remains of her snow hut. “I’m glad to see you were ready to protect my fish. I wouldn’t want some stupid bear to steal them, after all the effort I put into catching them. Come on, let’s go.”

Osnat stared at the huge rent in the bear’s throat, and then threw her arms around Aarluk. All the terror, all the anger poured out of her heart, poured in liquid form from her eyes. After a few minutes she was finally able to speak.

“Thank you for coming back for me.”

Aarluk gently disengaged her arms. “Never mind that; I didn’t leave. I just stayed back so you could learn to find your way. We’ll cut up the bear, and then go. I’ll follow you, so I can keep an eye on what’s left of my fish in your back-pack.”

Osnat blanched. Not again. “I don’t know where to go; I can’t find the way under normal conditions. I certainly can’t find it in a storm like this.”

“Bah! Without ever having been taught, you built yourself a snow hut. You lit a lamp without having a flame. You were facing certain death from the bear, yet you prepared to fight. You knew how to move back, so that when it came through the walls it wouldn’t strike you. You’re one of us now, maybe stronger.

You’re Tunniq. Stop whining; stop thinking. Shut your eyes if it helps. Let’s go.”

Osnat looked at the person who had raped her when they first met. Now the overwhelming feeling she had for Aarluk was – well, she didn’t know what it was. There was no word, no concept that encompassed gratitude, deep affection, revulsion and terror. It wasn’t love, it wasn’t hatred, nor was it somewhere between those feelings. But it was absolutely what she felt.

“Yes, mother.”


About Nathan Elberg:

Nathan Elberg is a retired Realtor, anthropologist and recovered ex-radical. He lived & hunted with Indians and Inuit. He’s  been tear-gassed, rebuilt his car’s transmission, had a bayonet in his face, and hitch-hiked across the continent. Nathan has studied folklore, warfare, Kabbalah, primitive art and communications among other things.

His essays and stories have been published in a variety of venues. Elberg studied with the late Dr. Michael Harner, a practicing shaman and recognized expert on cannibalism. Nathan’s father Yehuda Elberg was a world-renowned Yiddish author and lecturer. His mother was a poet and translator.

A descendent of the biblical King David, Nathan recently put aside his plan to rule the galaxy so he could devote more time to writing. He’s a member of the Canadian Fantasy and Science Fiction Association and is active with the Canadian Institute for Jewish Research, a think tank. Elberg’s been married for many decades and has been blessed with children and grandchildren.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will receive a $10 Amazon Gift Card courtesy of Rockstar Book Tours, International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tour Schedule:

Week One:


Viviana MacKade

Guest Post



Guest Post/IG Post


Writer of Wrongs

Guest Post


Two Chicks on Books




IG Post


Lady Hawkeye

Excerpt/IG Post



IG Review


TMBA Corbett Tries to Write



Fyrekatz Blog



#BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee Blog


Week Two:



IG Review


Jazzy Book Reviews

Excerpt/IG Post


The Momma Spot



Rajiv’s Reviews

Review/IG Post


Fire and Ice



Sadie’s Spotlight

Excerpt/IG Post


Books a Plenty Book Reviews




IG Review


More Books Please blog

Review/IG Post





Spotlight: Power of the Sky, by Alison Blasdell

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Power of the Sky
Touch the Sky series, book 3
by Alison Blasdell
Time Travel Romance
Published 5/17/22
348 pages
R : Contains some adult material. Regular swearing, violence and/or romantic scenes.

Jennifer once again experiences visions of the past. This time, she sees life through the eyes of the young girl Alyona, captured by the Mongolian soldiers of Genghis Khan in AD 1224. Alyona’s journey is one of pain, heartbreak, and courage as she rises above the brutal world of the Mongolians.

As Jennifer is drawn deeper into Alyona’s life, she can’t escape a feeling of foreboding. Each time she returns to the present, something is different—she is different. In this final vision, Jennifer discovers the true Power of the Sky and the ultimate sacrifice required.

Amazon / Goodreads

About the Author:

Alison Blasdell holds a PhD in physiology and biophysics but has wide-ranging interests. An equestrian, with a background in music, martial arts, a passion for history, and an interest in the potential of the human mind, Alison often weaves these areas of interest into her books, always keeping a woman of strength and compassion at the heart of the novel.






Spotlight & Excerpt: Someone in Time + Giveaway

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This is my post during the blog tour for Someone in Time. Someone in Time is a science fiction time travel romance anthology.

This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours and runs from 17 till 30 May. You can see the tour schedule here.

Someone in Time book cover

Someone in Time
Edited by Jonathan Strahan
Including stories by: Alix E. Harrow, Zen Cho, Seanan McGuire, Sarah Gailey, Jeffrey Ford, Nina Allan, Elizabeth Hand, Lavanya Lakshminarayan, Catherynne M. Valente, Sam J. Miller, Rowan Coleman, Margo Lanagan, Sameem Siddiqui, Theodora Goss, Carrie Vaughn and Ellen Klages
Genre: Science Fiction Romance/ Time Travel Romance
Age category: Adult
Publisher: Rebellion Publishing
Release Date: 10 May 2022

Even time travel can’t unravel love

Time-travel is a way for writers to play with history and imagine different futures – for better, or worse.

When romance is thrown into the mix, time-travel becomes a passionate tool, or heart-breaking weapon. A time agent in the 22nd century puts their whole mission at risk when they fall in love with the wrong person. No matter which part of history a man visits, he cannot not escape his ex. A woman is desperately in love with the time-space continuum, but it doesn’t love her back. As time passes and falls apart, a time-traveller must say goodbye to their soulmate.

With stories from best-selling and award-winning authors such as Seanan McGuire, Alix E. Harrow and Nina Allan, this anthology gives a taste for the rich treasure trove of stories we can imagine with love, loss and reunion across time and space.

Rebellion Publishing


Alix E. Harrow

THE DAY AFTER Candace Stillwater broke his heart, Floyd Butler decided—with the reckless haste of a twenty- one-year-old who knows they must act quickly, before good sense intervenes—to go time traveling.

It wasn’t a difficult proposition: you simply took Exit 52 off I-70, halfway between Junction City and WaKeeney, and followed the signs for The World’s One and Only Time Machine. You bought a ticket from the amiable drunk at the front booth and waited while he unlocked the gate, and then you walked through a grove of cottonwoods until you came to the time machine, which isn’t really a machine at all. It’s a rough pillar of sandstone weathered into a shape not unlike an hourglass, carved all over with names and initials and faded hearts.

There was a lot of fuss when it was first discovered—minor wars, international espionage, secret government agencies with a bewildering array of acronyms—but when the stone failed to provide either profit or power, the land was quietly sold to a private entity. The Ticket Through Time Theme Park opened in the early ’70s, boasting a Chronological Museum, an overpriced supply shop full of pocket dictionaries and period clothing, and an extensive system of waivers. It lasted four or five years, when it became clear that the number of people willing to pay exorbitant prices in order to fling themselves like deranged darts through space and time, with no guarantee of return, survival, or even a good time, was sadly limited.

So the private entity sold the acreage to another, smaller entity, which eventually sold it to a Mr. Anthony Barton, who found that there were just enough cultists, conspiracy theorists, true believers, historical re- enactors, and desperate escapists to cover the salary of one full-time employee and send Mr. Barton to the Bahamas every January.

If Mr. Barton had been there the day Floyd Butler paid for his ticket, he would have put him without hesitation in the ‘desperate escapist’ category, and he would have been half-right: Floyd was running away from plenty of things (his next shift at the QuikTrip 24-Hour gas station; the deadly flat of the Kansas horizon; Candace Stillwater’s blue, blue eyes when she broke up with him; and the dizzy sense that he’d lost the plot of his own life) but he was also running toward something. He just wasn’t sure what it was.

He thought of it as an apple hanging just out of reach, perfectly ripe, gold-limned in the light of some new dawn. If he’d ever spoken of it to anyone, which he had not, he might have called it his destiny.

Floyd had to tap the glass of the front booth to wake the ticket seller, who squinted at Floyd’s bright blue backpack—stuffed with all the necessities a person might need on a journey through time or, more accurately, all the non-perishable food that was available in his mother’s kitchen before dawn this morning, when the idea had occurred to him—tore an orange ticket from a large roll, and said “Good luck” in a tone suggesting he would need it.

Floyd was undeterred. He walked through the gate with a swelling, billowing sensation in his chest, as if he were finally reaching out for that red, ripe apple. He would have touched the stone without breaking stride, without a second’s hesitation, if it hadn’t been for the man standing in the way.

He was a little older than Floyd, somewhere in that nebulous range between early-twenties and old, which were Floyd’s only categories. Floyd thought he might have been handsome, in a tensile, whippet kind of way, if he shaved those embarrassing sideburns and wore 21st-century clothing. His outfit looked as if it had been stolen from the cover of one of Floyd’s mother’s romance novels: high-waisted pants, a collared shirt, and a stiff red vest that Floyd suspected was called a waistcoat or a cravat, or possibly a cummerbund.

Floyd knew some time travelers chose to dress in period clothing, but this man’s costume had a geographical and chronological specificity that struck Floyd as thoroughly silly.

If he’d heard Floyd’s approach, he made no sign of it. He stood before the stone, staring at it with a strange, lost expression, as if he didn’t know why he’d come or what he ought to do next.

Floyd waited a polite minute before saying “Morning” in the same soothing tone he used to greet stray cats.

The man startled so violently he tripped over his own feet and very nearly fell against the stone. Floyd caught one flailing wrist—so slim and sharp it was like catching a tossed butter knife—and stood him gently back upright.

The man blinked several times, panting and rubbing his wrist. “Thank you.” He had a nasally BBC accent that made Floyd suspect he’d traveled much further than three counties to be here.

“No problem.” Floyd nodded at the stone. “I’ll give you some privacy, if you’re going first.”

“Going…?” The man looked at the stone, then back at Floyd, squinting as if Floyd were standing in much brighter sunlight than he actually was. “No, I wasn’t—that is, I’m just the, uh, groundskeeper.” He nodded vaguely at the trees, which seemed to be keeping themselves perfectly well. “You go ahead.”

But he looked so pale and alarmed, his pupils dark beneath the long fringe of his eyelashes, that Floyd found himself lingering. He extended the travel mug he’d stolen from his mother an hour earlier. “Coffee?”

The man took the mug with long fingers, sipped cautiously, gagged, and said “How kind” in a slightly hoarse voice. He must have been the sort of person with a Starbucks order and a French press; Floyd generally just microwaved yesterday’s leftovers and stirred in so much powdered creamer it left a pleasant chemical film on his tongue.

“You keep it,” he said magnanimously. “I’d better be heading out.” Floyd tightened the straps on his backpack, hoping he looked like a dashing explorer rather than a Boy Scout.

“Where are you going?”
For some reason—because the man’s eyelashes were really quite long and he was looking at Floyd with such a pleasingly wistful expression, or because Floyd was filled with the ebullience of someone who has a feeling he will not be in Kansas for much longer—Floyd told him the truth.
He shrugged, smiling, and said, “To find my destiny.”
He touched the stone and disappeared.

There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Someone in Time. 5 winners win a paperback copy of Someone in Time. And 5 winners win an ecopy of Someone in Time. Open International.

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:
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