Publication details
- Published
- August 2026
- Publisher
- Royal Road
The Gleeson Chronicles
- Book 1: Prisoners of the Venusreich
- Book 2: The Foundries of Vesta
The Gleeson Chronicles · Book 1 of 1
Prisoners of the Venusreich
Book One of the Gleeson Chronicles
- Science Fiction
- Alternate Universe
- Adventure
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Synopsis
Action and adventure in a world where a Mars Colony was established in Victoria's reign, and the First World War was fought with orbital battlestations.
It is 1962, and the world is still recovering from nearly 40 years of all-out war. The British and Russian empires face off across the ruins of a defeated Austro-Hungary in the east, and over the desolate plains of North America to the west. Commander James Gleeson is relaxing as the luxury liner Brittanic returns from Mars to Earth, when his cruise is interrupted by the attack of a strange spacecraft. It seems that hidden in the clouds of Venus, an old enemy has been secretly rebuilding its strength...
Praise
- ★★★★★
“Essex paints a rich scene that draws the reader in. The way they build intrigue into the conversations between the characters has me leaning in to know more. The pacing is engaging, and I'm already curious to see where the story goes next.”
- Sage Byrne, Royal Road
Excerpt
Chapter One: Two Days Out
The band hacked their way uninspiringly through an old Glen Miller piece, but the Britannic's passengers didn't seem to care. James Bradford threaded his way through a dance floor full of gay young things, plus an assortment of people old enough to know better. The room was large enough for the curve of the deck to be apparent, but one didn't notice it much amongst the press of people. A glance upward showed the odd angles at which the ship's spin gravity made the chandeliers hang.
Only two days out from Deimos Station, and already, the hedonistic mentality that seemed inevitable on a long cruise had set in. Wealthy colonial daughters of the Empire, on their way to London to be presented at court, danced with comparatively penniless engineers and junior officers, sure that any indiscretions would be forgotten. What happened on the ship, stayed on the ship. The widowed aunts and spinster sisters sent to chaperone lurked by the bar or danced themselves. Colonial service officers tended to marry late, after all, and a few of that type leavened the crowd. Bradford could spot them a mile off, even dressed in civvies. It was the smell of the house scotch combined with eyes that retained a certain sobriety no matter how hard they tried to drown it.
James pulled his dinner jacket straight and pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose as he exited into the comparative quiet of the promenade deck. He was no more than half a minute late for the rendezvous, but she stood by the rail that surrounded the viewing well, an impatient frown furrowing her forehead.
