1. Quickly, give us the title and genre of your book and a 30-word or
Title-Pale Boundaries. Genre-science fiction.
Tagline-A refugee from a rough frontier world immigrates to a colony
where poaching and childbearing without a permit are heinous crimes; a
good deed threatens to expose a criminal conspiracy.
2. Who is your favorite character and why?
Terson Reilly, the protagonist. It was fun to discover what made him tick as he emerged;
to see how he resolved the inner conflicts that arose when his mores
ran counter to the society he found himself in.
3. If you could change ONE thing about your novel, what would it be?
I think I’d change the presentation of the prologue and first two
chapters. Why? Several readers have felt that the chronological
transitions between those sections on first read seemed “choppy.”
4. Give us one interesting fun fact about your book or series:
During a routine edit/revision a couple of supporting characters
decided that they needed more inktime and sent the entire story in
another direction. As a result the final version of Pale Boundaries
contains only a quarter of the “original” transcript.
5. How can we contact you or find out more about your books?
Check out my Amazon author page at www.amazon.com/Scott-Cleveland/e/B0033IRLU8/
6. What can we expect from you in the future?
The previously mentioned rewrite left me with plenty of material to work with; there
will be at least two more books featuring these characters before I
get them out of my system.
7. And now, before you go, how about a snippet from your book that is meant to intrigue and tantalize us:
The sound of a steel door slamming against its stops tore through
Terson’s throbbing head like a bullet. His eyelids felt like they were
lined with sandpaper. His mouth tasted like a small animal had crawled
inside and shit itself to death.
Terson pulled himself to his feet and shuffled across a floor tacky
with bile and stale urine. The jailer took him by the arm and led him
to the discharge station. A tall, slender man in a black jumpsuit
stood in the foyer bouncing on the balls of his feet—Captain Maalan
Bragg, the Federal Police investigator who also acted as Terson’s
His belongings spilled onto the counter before him. Nothing was
left of the hundred-euro note he remembered leaving home with but
small change. The arrest bond slid across to him.
“Twenty-five hundred,” the jailer smirked. “Cash or credit?”
Terson flipped his debit card back. “Cash—and I want my receipt this time.”
The transaction processed and his card hit him in the chest. “See
you next week, smartass.”
Bragg intercepted him as he headed for the door. “You violated
Terson examined his knuckles. New cuts and scrapes lay atop old
scars and partially healed wounds. He explored the inside of his mouth
with his tongue for cuts or missing teeth, but everything was as it
“I guess I won.”