Whelon (Dragons of Preor #12) - Celia Kyle Page 0,1

and she suddenly found that her position was very political.

Her mother loved every moment. There was nothing like a media storm to enhance someone’s popularity, and to her mother there was no such thing as bad press.

Sasha hated the change. She didn’t like the hateful comments on her social media pages or how the other actors treated her after that recording aired. That didn’t mean she trusted the Preor—she was on her mother’s side completely—she just didn’t appreciate how her career hinged on one issue.

The station manager’s voice rose, drawing her from the memory, and Sasha was forced to look in their direction. He protested that Sasha was too controversial for certain time slots and that was that. Her mother went very quiet, body drawn to her full height.

Here we go…

Her mother puffed up her chest, opened her mouth, and let out a blast of angry words, her face right at the station manager’s nose. Yeah, she didn’t need to listen to that hot mess unfold.

Sasha turned away with another sigh, deeply concerned her entire media presence was now “controversial.” Even though she didn’t like the Preor or the changes they made to the planet—as well as the human race—she probably could have handled everything more delicately.

People might actually listen if the subject was approached the right way. Her mother had no charisma and tended to just yell louder when people didn’t agree with her. The woman wound Sasha up so tightly she ended up spewing words at the camera with the delicacy of a meat grinder. No gentle coaxing, but a rapid-fire attack. Ugh.

She needed more information about the Preor, that was for sure. She needed to interview one of these “mates” and do some careful editing to enhance this whole brainwashing angle. Rumors of the “Knowing” ran rampant around the world but no one really knew what it was.

Sounds like brainwashing and programming to me.

She couldn’t figure out how any self-respecting woman would allow herself to be overtaken by an alien so easily.

The one thing she did know was that yelling wasn’t working. Sasha was losing followers and her mother’s solution was to yell even louder. She was simply cutting out a major chunk of her followers by not showing sympathy for their viewpoint.

Instead of, “The Preor are evil. Hate them,” they should be saying, “How well do you really know the Preor?”

Sasha glanced over at her mother again, but the situation hadn’t changed. With a shake of her head, she pulled out her phone, ready to book some charity work around her scheduled television spots. She worked for a few charities, and this week during the month she usually volunteered at the homeless shelter. She didn’t always take her camera crew along, and her mother hated the volunteering so much she generally didn’t bother to capture the footage of Sasha working.

What her mother thought was a ridiculous waste of time, Sasha saw as a matter of life and death. If she was going to have a significant presence and several million followers, she wanted to inspire others to do good. So many people were in desperate need, and she just wanted to improve their lives any way possible.

Since the Preor had arrived, the class split had become far worse. The Preor said they were helping, but Sasha couldn’t see evidence of their work. They seemed to strut or fly around with complete arrogance, sometimes destroying buildings, setting fire to parks and even killing people. They acted like they could do whatever they wanted without considering the impact on people’s lives.

They had brought great wealth with them. And, as usual, the most prominent and wealthy people thrived. Meanwhile, the unwashed masses remained forgotten as they always had been.

Sasha was angry enough with her train of thought when she went through her inbox. So, what she saw next sparked her temper until it bloomed into full-on rage.

Several of her usual charities had rejected her services. They were loyal to the Preor, and her views were not appreciated. They did not want her support any longer.

She stared at the phone screen, her fingers shaking.

“The Preor then!” her mother snapped. Sasha jumped like she had been stung.

“What about them?” the station manager asked warily.

“If we get the scoop on them, all the dirty details, you’ll put her on every day?”

The station manager nodded slowly. “That would be good for numbers, yes. But we need a balanced review. She can’t stand there and bad mouth them for an hour without proof.”

“You’ll get