Love On Mars

By Iván Hernández (Actualmente Retirado)

Mary Ackerson, tired of living and working on the farm, decides to leave everything behind and go to Mars. To Mars? Yes. Don’t think I went mad writing the book. There’s an explanation for everything (there on Mars lives THE man – although she hasn’t met him yet).
Keep reading: Mary will travel to Mars on a mothership (along with other people) to form part of the Stafford Research Company. Once there, Mary will meet James Stafford, the handsome and arrogant heir of the company. Falling in love with him was an unplanned incident. Also, the pleasant and intelligent Mary will discover a very strange mystery that has caused a deep crisis within the Stafford family… What are they worried about?
In LOVE ON MARS, fun is guaranteed. This is an exciting and touching love story, which is surprisingly Martian. Mary Ackerson is a unique main character that inspires confidence, friendliness and love. Besides, the novel includes sex. You couldn’t ask for more! Oh, yes… what about a happy ending? I promise you one!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Babelcube Inc.
• Release date: Nov 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781633392144

Iván Hernández (Actualmente Retirado)

Iván Hernández (Madrid, 1975) is the author of the Buscoaliados Collection. After an unsuccessful search for a publisher, I decided to go for self-publishing. Amazon Spain opened its doors and in I went! So I created a digital publishing project called: Colección Buscoaliados (Buscoaliados Collection). http://www.buscoaliados.com It's a collection of different novels and genres, but all of them focused on the ‘Ally’ style. What is the Ally style? It's a style where I mix realism, magic, fantasy, romance and emotions in a way you've never read before. The ‘Ally’ word is based on my Best-Seller Novel: «La protegida Wittman - El Futuro no tiene aliados - Libro 1» (The Wittman Protegée – The Future has no Allies – Book 1) So, give Ally style a shot and become an ally yourself. Read me soon! ;-) Hugs, Iván Hernández

Book preview

María,

Prologue

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When I began to write this novel, it was very clear to me that all I wanted was for my wife, who has always loved romantic novels, to enjoy reading it.

She has always used this kind of literature to escape from everyday issues, to discover fascinating, new love stories and, above all, happy endings complete with weddings and children. 

But, well, writing a novel like that was going to be strange for a person like me, who likes to get into the human mind and look at why it behaves the way it does. Yet she would probably find that boring, and it would be a little pretentious for me.

So the only way to take on this project was with a tongue-in-cheek attitude: creating nice characters to make you feel good without worrying too much about scientific credibility – which there was no way I was going to take on in a book of this kind – and taking the whole group of main characters to the well-known but, at the same time, alien planet of Mars. 

I took whatever scientific data was useful to me for telling the story as I wanted to, and invented the rest in a romantic fantasy that could be a B movie.

The result? Very funny and exciting with love, sex and mystery. Full of motifs from the genre but with a totally new take.

Ultimately, ‘LOVE ON MARS’ is a normal romantic novel – but with a Martian twist. You’ll see what I mean.

Without further ado, I leave you with the adventures of Mary Ackerson.

I hope you like the book as much as my wife does.

Happy reading!

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Iván Hernández,

January 2013

Chapter 1

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Girls, I have something to tell you.

They all remained quiet. Only the breeze in the valley murmured to the nearby stream that something unexpected was about to happen. Mary breathed in and said it straight out:

I’m leaving the farm. I’m going to... Mars.

Suddenly the geese started cackling. The cows began lowing. They all scrambled around over each other. They didn’t understand why she’d made this decision.

Calm down, calm down. There’s nothing to worry about. I won’t leave you on your own. You’ll be well cared for. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a very long time – and, now that I have the chance, I can’t let it pass me by.

Mary walked slowly over to the oldest cow.

Lucille, I know you understand exactly what I’m saying – and what I’m feeling. This is no place for me. You know that very well.

Lucille flicked her tail, scaring off some flies, and that simple animal gesture seemed to show that she understood the young woman.

Charlize, said Mary, squatting down to meet one of the geese at eye-level, look after your sisters and make sure that they... (pointing to the cows) ...don’t step on them by mistake, okay? 

Charlize wobbled clumsily around in front of her and strutted off with an angry air. Mary laughed as she stood up. Then she walked over to the little stable, from which a horse’s head appeared serenely.

Copper, we’ve a long journey ahead of us. I hope you’ve rested.

Mary opened the door and the horse trotted out ready for the occasion, stopping a few feet ahead of her.

Nervous? she asked as she slung a bag over its back.

The copper-haired horse shook its head as if to deny this.

Sad?

Then it whinnied. Mary got onto the horse and walked over to the other farm animals.

Behave yourselves, and be very careful with the river – above all when it rains. You know how treacherous the mud is and you could get stuck. And relax: I’m not crazy enough to leave you alone for a long time. You’ll be getting a visit soon.

All the animals stood silent and Mary knew it was time to go.

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From his farmhouse porch, Samuel saw a cloud of dust coming along the road.

Mary?

The young woman got off her horse, which trotted into the field and submerged itself in a sea of brilliant, high, green grasses.

Good morning, Samuel. Is that coffee you’re drinking?

Mary took the steaming cup from him and sipped it. Then she handed it back to him and walked into the house. Samuel looked around and then followed her.

Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here? I doubt if you’ve come all the way over from your farm just for breakfast.

The young woman had already put some jam on bread and was pouring herself a juice.

No, Samuel - although I should have done this more often: I’m going to miss your rye bread.

Samuel sat down in front of her.

Miss? I don’t understand.

Samuel, I’ve come to ask you a favour – a huge favour.

The man swallowed, seriously doubting whether he wanted to continue listening. Mary, however, didn’t seem at all concerned and went on chewing her bread and drinking her juice.

Well, are you going to explain? asked Samuel.

Mary swallowed as best she could.

I’m giving you my farm, she said, glowing.

What?

It’s great, isn’t it? You don’t have to thank me...

Thank you? No, no, no, no, no. Hold on. You’re not giving me your farm!

Yes. I am, said Mary, self-assured and spreading more jam on toast this time.

But... Why?

Because I’m not coming back. Is that a good enough reason? The animals need to be cared for and I can’t take them with me. I’m not allowed to. Oh, by the way, you get the horse too.

No, definitely not: not the horse. Hold on, hold on... I still don’t understand all of this. Are you saying, or at least I think you are: that you’re not coming back?

Mary nodded and then shook her head.

That’s it. By the way, I need you to lend me your van.

Samuel snorted and put his elbows on the table. Then he breathed in and stared at her.

And would you mind explaining where you’re going?

To Mars, she answered, not making a big deal of her interplanetary trip.

To Mars!? Great! Mary Ackerson, I think the people in this town had their reasons for calling you Crazy Ackerson.

Mary shrugged.

Would you mind telling me what’s on Mars for you?

Nothing. But I’m bored of this town. You understand. It’s nothing personal. I love you; I love my farm, the river, the sunsets, the lemonade on the porch in the afternoon... if I ever actually made lemonade. I might miss all that. Even the annoying crickets that keep me awake at full-moon...

So what’s the real reason?

I have a feeling I’m missing something.

You’re missing being married, having children and being busy with farm work.

See? Three more reasons for me to go!

Don’t be silly. Loads of guys in the town fancy you.

Mary nearly choked on laughter as she remembered the guys who fancied her.

I’m not sure if they want to marry me – or the wine-cellars that my father left me under the house. Seriously, Samuel, the men in this town are not exactly suitable for a young lady like me.

Mary burped.

Besides, do you know what, Samuel? she whispered to him. The other day, George, the mayor’s son, tried to grope me.

To grope you?

Yes, yes: to touch me up. What was he thinking? He’d just asked me the time. When you see him, you’ll see he has a black eye with my name on it, and another part of his anatomy that you can’t see with the bare eye has my surname on it too!

Mary got up and looked through the window.

Don’t be silly, Samuel: keep everything I have. I won’t need it anymore and it’ll help you to win over Lillie. A man with two beautiful farms will be irresistible for a girl like her.

I don’t like you speaking about Lillie like that...

You know we haven’t been able to stand each other since school. But I know you’re crazy about her and, as I’m a fabulous matchmaker, I’m giving you my farm with the cows and ducks, a horse and a big, huge hug. And, in exchange, you´re lending me your car to get to the Johnson Space Centre... Deal?

You’ll do whatever you want no matter what I say said Samuel, strangled in Mary’s embrace. 

Idiot! I’m going to miss you loads.

So and... what are you going to do on Mars?

Find myself a Martian.

Be careful, Mary – you might find one and have to swallow that sarcasm.

Mary started the old hybrid Jeep with difficulty and drove it bumpily to the Interstate 45, where the smooth tarmac made the journey easier. She was leaving behind a life that – although happy – was incomplete. 

Chapter 2

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Hundreds of people thronged around that huge outdoor space waiting to be seen by the trip organisers. Security men and women tried to keep order, getting them to form lines. Mary, who had left the jeep on nearby wasteland, stood at the end of one of those lines. She was struck forcefully by the lack of sad and emotional goodbyes – like the ones you saw in films.

She waited over an hour for her turn. In all that time, she didn’t exchange even one word with anyone. The person in front of her seemed too serious and the woman behind her too nice. Either communication option would have been hell – so she preferred to look into the distance and say nothing.

Good morning, said a man from behind a numbered desk, talking to Mary.

Is it my turn now?

The old civil servant type of fellow made a face as if to say that that was obvious, and she hurried over to him.

Miss...?

Ackerson, Mary Ackerson.

The man typed on a mobile device.

Mary Ackerson... Here you are. Miss Ackerson, do you have any luggage?

Yes, sir: this bag.

We told you it wasn’t necessary.

But...

Is there anything of sentimental value in it?

Yes, she answered immediately.

Take it out, please, and leave your case on the mark on the floor.

The young woman took out a small photo album and left the suitcase on a white cross. A youth with a trolley appeared instantly and took it away.

Where is it being taken to?

The man at the desk seemed too absorbed with filling out her file to answer. A few seconds later, he began to spurt out questions to check that the information he had