Saturday, April 30, 2011

Blog Bash and Six Sentence Sunday


Airlines overbook, and today I did too. I'm participating in a Blog Bash, and every participating author has a character interview posted on her blog. If you'd like to play for some nice prizes, email promorobyn@gmail.com to get a sheet telling you what to do. You have to get that sheet or you can't play.

My other activity today is Six Sentence Sunday. The interview is first, and then the six sentences.

An Interview With Violet Emerson

Elaine: Good morning. Welcome to WSPD’s Up and Coming Show. I’m Elaine Cantrell, and my guest this morning is Violet Emerson. Violet, who is currently employed by Chef’s Pantry, has big dreams for her future. Violet, welcome to Up and Coming. Can you tell us a little bit about yourself?

Violet: Thank you so much for having me on your show, Elaine. I graduated from Tri-State Tech with a degree in culinary arts. Since that time I’ve been employed by Chef’s Pantry in their bakery department. Marjorie English is the department head, and I’ve learned a lot from her.

Elaine: Oh, I’ve tasted some of Marjorie’s apple pie. It’s to die for.

Violet: (Laughs) I think so too.

Elaine: So, tell us your dream, Violet. That’s what Up and Coming is all about: people who’re going after their dreams.

Violet: I plan to work at Chef’s Pantry for a few years both to practice my craft and save some money. After that I plan to open a catering business with my friend Josh Bailey.

Elaine: (arching eyebrows) Do I smell romance in the air, Violet?

Violet: (blushing) No, Josh is just a friend.

Elaine: (laughs) You remind me of a young Elizabeth Taylor, and your eyes are a wonderful shade of blue. Don’t tell me men don’t notice.

Violet: I don’t know if they notice or not, but my priority is my business.

Elaine: Do you think it’s possible for a woman to have a career and a family at the same time?

Violet: Yes, but first I have to get the career and the man in that order.

Elaine: I like that. You have clear cut goals and a path to achieving them. I’m sure that one day your dream will come true.

Violet: (blushes) Thank you, Elaine. Give me a couple of years, and then call on Bailey-Emerson for all your catering needs.

Elaine: I’ll do that. Thanks for coming.

Violet shakes hand with Elaine and leaves.

Elaine: My next story doesn’t have such a happy ending. Many viewers will remember last week’s guest Matt McCallum. Eighteen months ago Matt achieved his dream when he signed a contract to play football for the Green Bay Packers. His first season with the Packers was phenomenal. He kicked the winning field goal during the last minutes of the Super Bowl to win the game for the Packers.

Last night Matt and his fiancĂ©e Stacey Thomas were driving home from Greenville when a deer ran across the road in front of them. Miss Thomas was uninjured in the resulting crash, but Matt was taken to the hospital with severe injuries to his legs. WSPD learned this morning that surgeons were unable to save his right leg. It was amputated right above his knee. I’m sure all of Matt’s fans wish him a speedy recovery.

We’ll pause for a break, and when we come back, Bart Ridgeway will tell us about his dream.


Six Sentence Sunday
In this excerpt, Violet tells her friend Marjorie that Matt asked her to sleep with him, and she said no. Marjorie asks if Matt was angry about it.


“No, he wasn’t. He said he was a big boy and knew how to
handle no.”

“Then why are you unhappy this morning? I saw Matt
earlier, and he didn’t look upset at all.”

“I’m unhappy because I said no!” Violet vehemently
whispered.

Other places to find me:
I'm involved in a book fair May 1 at http://www.uninvoked.com/wordpress/?p=868

I'm also guest blogging for Janice Seagraves at http://janiceseagraves.org/

Friday, April 29, 2011

The Perfect Life


Readers, please help me welcome Jane Toombs. Jane's doing a guest blog for me, Jane, take it away.

The Perfect Life
Is your life perfect? Was there ever a time in your life that you thought yours was perfect? Not just happy, but perfect?

Those are the questions I asked myself when I woke up this morning.
The answer to both questions is yes. Was I wrong? Again, yes.

The older I get, the more I realize that life is never perfect, though sometimes we have days when it may seem so. But then I’m an optimist. Also I was raised in a small town by parents who loved me and expected me to be a decent person and do well in life. Which didn’t mean get rich.

I often wonder if optimists and pessimists are born that way, or do their early years bend them one way or another? Whichever is true, I’m an optimist, so this may account for the many times in my life that I felt everything was perfect, only to find I was wrong. Took me many years to learn not to expect perfection, but just enjoy the happy times.

The strange thing is, I’ve been married twice and now live with the Viking from my past, and all three males have been or are pessimists Do these opposites seek each other out?

I once came to the conclusion that because life isn’t perfect may account for so many readers preferring happy endings. And perhaps those who read horror for pleasure do so because life can be miserable at times, so whatever theirs may be, it’s preferable to the horror they‘re reading about. But I quickly realized that’s far too simple an explanation, since I like happy endings, but I also read horror with enjoyment.

So I have to concede that I really don’t know why readers choose one genre or another as their preferences. Actually, maybe they don’t either. And, finally, does it even matter?

Probably not.

Do any of you have these odd thoughts sometimes when you wake up in the morning? I like to think I’m not really a strange person.

Two Hearts And A Crow, which will be released from Eternal Press May 1, deals with a man and woman with completely opposite expectations for the future. Yet the ending is happy.

Blurb: Ravens are common in Alaska--crows are not, especially a disabled, talking crow like Iago. Women who hold out for marriage are rare in Alaska--but the heroine persists. Men who want no part of marriage are common in Alaska and the hero is one of them, What happens when these three form a triangle?

What is Janet Lane Walters (Dame Amber)up to now? Find out at www.JewelsoftheQuill.com
Join us for monthly book giveaways !
Jane Toombs web site: www.JaneToombs.com

Jane, thank you for your article. My sister lives in Alaska, so I'll be sure to pick up a copy of your book.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

Welcome Chynna Laird


Please welcome Chynna Laird to the blog today. Chyna,how much of yourself are in your books?

What a great question! A LOT of myself is in my books because I write from what I know and what I've gone through. I draw inspiration from my personal experiences.

2.What key elements keep you on track as a writer?

I love that you asked me this! The main things that keep me on track are dedication, motivation, inspiration and organization. Writers need to have all of these things to keep going!

Who are some of your favorite authors? Who has influenced your writing the most?

I am greatly inspired by anyone who is brave enough to put themselves out there emotionally. Sooo many to mention. I love Maya Angelou, Alice Munro, John Saul, Chris Grabenstein, and the new and fabulous author, Nicole Johns.

4.I'll have to check out Nicole Johns. I don't know her work. What is the easiest part of writing?

I would say the easiest part for me is coming up with the ideas. I have lists and folders filled with ideas. What's difficult is finding the time to finish them all! HA!

5.Me too! I bet every writer has more stories than time to write them. Would you share your links with us so that we can find you on the web?

Absolutely!
Website: www.lilywolfwords.ca
Main blog: www.the-gift-blog.com
White Elephants blog: www.seethewhiteelephants.com
I'm also on Facebook (look for my new Chynna T. Laird Author's page!), Twitter (lilywolf), MySpace, LinkedIn, Author's Den, Goodreads, Shelfari...check out my Webpage for more places to find me! ;)

6.Please tell us about your new book and share an excerpt with us. Don't forget to give us a buy link.

Blackbird Flies is a story so close to my heart. Here's a blurb:
Fifteen year-old Payton MacGregor is a musical prodigy. To him, though, his music is merely a way for him to escape from the chaos that surrounds him. All of his life, he's had to care for his mother, who copes with her bipolar disorder with booze instead of turning to her own musical talents. He refuses to become a statistic. Then he’s thrown a curve ball.

His mother suddenly dies, leaving him to be cared for by his aging grandparents. As much as they love him, they decide to send him halfway across Canada to live with his father, Liam—the man Payton always believed abandoned him and his mother. Payton isn’t making the relocation easy on anyone until he finds out he's going to attend the prestigious School of the Arts for musically gifted youth. Any second thoughts he has about his new life are erased when he meets Lily Joplin. Their connection is instantaneous.


Lily is a talented singer, but her struggles with drugs and bipolar disorder hit too close to home for Payton's comfort. And when her issues become all-consuming, he wonders if his music will be enough to carry him through.

Here's one of my favorite excerpts. It's near the beginnging shortly after Payton moves to Edmonton to live with the father he'd always believed abandoned him and his mother years earlier. It shows his passion for his music, the love/hate emotional struggle he lives with about his mother and his interest in his new romantic interest, Lily:

The Dean led Payton into the opera hall. “Your Dad told me you are a bit of a pianist.”

Payton resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I guess you could say that.”

“Well, we haven’t moved the piano back to the music room yet since our recital last night,” the Dean said, nodding toward the stage. “Would you like to have a go?”

Payton's gaze switched to the stage where a full black lacquered grand piano sat. Its lid opened towards him, exposing its gorgeous strings…beckoning him. It had been days since his fingers last caressed the keys of a piano. There was nothing that would have made him happier or given him more inner peace at that moment than to play his music.

He didn't answer the dean. He just walked down the stairs to the stage. A spotlight still shone on the piano. It didn’t even matter to him that the leather seat was hot from the lights. He sat down, pushed the seat back to account for his long legs and positioned his hands over the keys. He closed his eyes.

He played Chopin’s Nocturne—one of his favorites. He’d learned it completely by ear, listening to his mother play it. She’d played the piece with such emotion, it pained his heart. He wished the music flowed half as beautifully from his own fingers as it had through hers.

As a young boy, he liked lying under the piano bench while his Mom practiced. When she’d gotten really into her playing, the bench shook in time with her hands flying across the keyboard and her tiny feet pumping the pedals. Being only five feet tall, she’d often had to sit right on the edge of the piano seat so the pedals wouldn't snap back up.

When Payton struck the last chord, the notes lingered high above the auditorium stage, echoing for several seconds. Then silence. Payton removed his glasses and wiped his eyes on his sleeve then heard…applause? It wasn’t just his dad and the dean.

He put his glasses back on and squinted, trying to block the glare from the lights with his hand. A small group of students had sat down in the first couple of rows while he’d been playing. He was embarrassed at first, but when he stood, the students rose, cheering, “Bravo! Awesome!”

He fidgeted for a few seconds then shot a peace sign and walked off the stage. Walking back up to where his dad and the dean stood, he saw that girl again…the one that looked like Alicia Silverstone. He got a closer look at her. Even in the dim light, he saw her face perfectly. Her hair was all one length and ebony. It draped around her shoulders, hugging her gorgeous oval-­shaped face. Her dark emerald eyes were highlighted with perfectly sculpted eyebrows and long eyelashes—the same darkness as her hair. Her creamy skin looked like the sun had never touched it. Her pink, plump lips stretched into a half-­smile when she noticed him staring at her. She gave him a thumbs-­up.

He just hoped his mouth wasn't open.

“"Son, that was incredible,"” Dean Fenehey said. “"You'll definitely be an inspiration to other people here. And you can almost bet if you keep up your practicing you’ll get that scholarship."”

Practicing? Scholarship? What the…?



Chynna T. Laird
LILY WOLF WORDS
www.lilywolfwords.ca
www.the-gift-blog.com
www.seethewhiteelephants.com
Author of award-winning book, "I'm Not Weird, I Have SPD"
Author of multi award-winning book, "Not Just Spirited: One Mom's Sensational Journey With Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD)"
Author of "White Elephants" http://eaglewingspress.com/whele.html
Author of 'Blackbird Flies" (Now available on all online eBookstores)
SPD Contributor with Our Journey Thru Autism
Contributing Writer for the SPD Foundation Blog
Contributing Writer for WOW-womeonwriting.com
Contributing Writer for Parenting Special Needs Magazine
Contributing Writer for Amaze Magazine

Chynna, your excerpt is great. You can find Chynna's book at http://www.astraeapress.com

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

It's All About the Free


Bri Clark from Astraea Press (http://www.astraeapress.com) is my guest today. Besides working for Astraea, Bri is also an author. Bri, we're so glad you could come. And now for that guest post.

People love to get anything free. You could bottle a mound of dog crap call it fertilizer and give it a pretty label and people would fight over it…if it was a free sample. Then depending on its performance, they may buy some, suggest it, or talk awful about it the first chance they got.

Books are the same way, especially with the lovely invention of E-books and blogs. Books are given away as a gift to commenter’s or giveaways and for reviews. I say we as authors need to keep up with how many freebies we are giving away. However, they are E-books we have virtually no loss.

Actually Dear Reader you do. First of all your time costs and you put a whole mess of time in writing that book. Second, your publisher put out their time and resources for that cover, formatting and editing. (Yeah, they had to pay for that.) Third, these are expenses to you that you can claim on your taxes, so you need to know not only how many you gave away but where and to whom. Can we say audit?

Finally, the most important reason to pay attention to your freebies is to make sure the marketing you are doing is worth it. I figure for every book I give away I want to have at least one book that sold. Where did I get this math? Well I’m unknown with little product out there for starters. The more books I release the more books I expect to sale per freebie.

This formula is quite easy, keep up with the amount of freebies you have given away of each book. Then compare the amount of sales you have had on all outlets and compare. If you are giving away more than you are selling it’s time to rethink your marketing plan.

Are the blogs you are sending them too having too little traffic? Are the blog owners not doing enough advertising through social media? Are you posting the same interviews or guest posts all over so people are bored now?

Point is you really need to keep up with these things.

Bri, thank you so much. This post is easy to understand and address a topic all authors should be interested in. Come back anytime.

Monday, April 25, 2011

The Showboat Affair



Readers, please welcome Gwyneth Greer to the blog. Gwyneth graciously agreed to do a guest blog today, so Gwyneth, we'll turn things over to you.

“Where do you get your story ideas?” is a question frequently asked of writers.

Ideas pop up everywhere. A song title, a newspaper article, a picture, a trip, a glimpse of someone or something on the street, old family stories, an accidentally-overheard snatch of conversation, a dusty throw-away in a flea market, an expensive collectable in an antique store, a discarded letter or picture postcard, a memory rekindled by a taste or a scent that stirs a vague longing for something one can’t name or explain…just Life.

My newest release with The Wild Rose Press, The Showboat Affair, sprang to life during a trip to Branson, Missouri, where I enjoyed a dinner cruise and show aboard the magnificent ‘Branson Belle’. Though I had in mind to write something about ‘the showboat murders’, my friend Kathy, who engineered the trip, was horrified at anything so negative. When she suggested ‘affairs’, after some thought I decided she was right.

The idea for The Face on Miss Fanny’s Wall, scheduled for release in 2012 by Champagne Books came home with me from a trip to Ft. Smith, Arkansas, (suggested by the same friend!) where the visitor center is a restored bordello! I found myself drawn to the framed pictures on the wall of one parlor, women who had plied their ‘trade’ in this spot during its long, colorful history. My heart broke for their choice—or perhaps lack of choice—and then, as I gazed into the face of one attractive young woman, I thought, “What if someone walked in here and recognized great-grandma?” Miss Fanny tells the story of someone who did just that.

As a genealogist for many years, I have turned up more information about various family lines than I ever really wanted to know. The potential for short stories and novels is staggering. My first two books, Where Is Papa’s Shining Star? and Finding Papa’s Shining Star began from the bare bones of a family incident shoved under the carpet for years. Though it evolved quite differently, the first book would never have been written without that first spark generated by a secret I wasn’t supposed to know. (Look for another similarly-inspired story to surface soon!)

Though I have a master’s degree in history, I learned far more about the past as I grew up (quite literally) at my grandfather’s knee. Born in 1873, he didn’t just know about history—he’d lived it. The tales he told me have provided more than one story idea.

Stories are everywhere. I’ll have to live to a ripe old age to write all of them!

Thank you so much for your great post. Would you tell us what your new book is about and share an excerpt with us?

I sure would! Here's a blurb for The Showboat Affair.

Despite over thirty years in a faithless marriage to wealthy investment broker Rand Kingston, Jean is shocked when he asks for a divorce. Encouraged by her former housekeeper-turned-best-friend, she determines to rediscover herself as an independent woman and move on with her life. Nick Cameron, prominent attorney and long-time widower, would like to figure in her plans. The opposition of their adult children surprises them. Then, a series of chilling near misses makes them wonder who really is determined to keep them apart—and why.

Excerpt:

“Where were you on Saturday, Dad?” Charlie Cameron called as his father passed the open door of his office.
Nick retraced his steps and leaned against the doorframe. “Did you need me?”
“Dixie went to a shower for a friend who’s getting married, and I thought the two of us might hang out. We haven’t done that in a long time.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Charlie. I’d have enjoyed that.”
“So where were you?”
“I went with a friend to see some property and then had lunch. We did some window shopping
afterwards.”
“Window shopping is for women, isn’t it?”
Nick cleared his throat, disgusted with himself for feeling guilty. “Actually, I was with a woman.” He didn’t have to interpret the silence that followed his remark.
“I see,” Charlie said finally. “Who?”
“Just someone I met a few weeks ago.”
“Does she have a name?”
Nick frowned. “Yes, she does, but I rather resent your third-degree, son.”
Charlie leaned across his desk. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Her name is Jean Kingston.”
“Of Kingston Investments?”
“It’s her husband’s business. They’re divorcing.”
“I’ve met Rand Kingston. He’s an arrogant toad.”
“But good at what he does, I understand.”
“Very. How did you meet his wife? His future ex-wife?”
“In Greg Thorne’s office. He’s her attorney.”
“And you like her?”
“She’s very nice.”
“I see.”
Nick straightened up. “I don’t really think you do, but it’s not important. I’ve been alone a long time."

Gwyneth, it sounds wonderful. I know everyone will enjoy the book.

Buy link:http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=175_140&products_id=4460&zenid=71e4459d424075e2b5c73ae39f37762f

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday


Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday. My excerpt today is from A New Dream and takes place when Matt and Violet declare their love for each other. A New Dream is available at http://www.astraeapress.com/#ecwid:category=662249&mode=product&product=2676585

"I did mean it, Matt!"

The words barely left her mouth before Matt crushed her against his chest. "I love you too, Violet, oh, so much! I was scared you wouldn't think I"m good enough for you. Are you sure?" he pleaded.

Violet thought some of the tears on her cheeks belonged to Matt, but no, a pro-football player wouldn't cry just because a woman said she loved him.

Friday, April 22, 2011


My guest today is Debra Rogers. Debra, thanks for coming. Please tell us a little bit about you and your writing.

I am a retired professional ballet dancer, so I decided to heed the standard advice of “write what you know”. Dancing in Time is based on my knowledge of the professional dance world, although all the characters are fictitious. The book is a sweet romance – a time travel – and is suitable for teens as well as adults. The setting of Hidden Cove is based on a real ghost town in the Appalachians, and one episode in the book was inspired by a true story. I often find ideas for my books in real settings or in unusual events from history.

2.Wow! I've never known a real dancer before. How long did you write before you got published?

I’ve written stories since childhood. My first published work was a non-fiction article for a short-lived national dance magazine. Dancing in Time is my first novel, and my first work of published fiction. I was especially excited when it became a finalist for a 2011 EPIC Award!

What is your favorite genre? Why?

I am attracted to books with hints of the paranormal, especially those with unexpected twists and turns in the plot. I also read lots of non-fiction. I live two blocks from my local library, and the librarians there often chuckle about my “eclectic” selections.

4.It keeps you from getting bored, right? What are you working on now?

I am working on a novel set in a Shaker village. It involves a ghost (maybe), a murder, and an unusual, poignant, love affair. The book was inspired by my research into a Shaker village that existed for a short time in Florida. The plot has several twists in it, and it has been quite a challenge to sort everything out! The working title is “When the Dancing Stopped”.

5.I love the ghost town idea. What advice would you give aspiring writers?

Stay tough and never give up! Learn as much as you can all the time. Write something every day, and read, read, read. Living two blocks away from a library helps too.

6.Would you share your links with us?

www.debrawebbrogers.com
www.violetrightmire.com

7.We’d love to read an excerpt. Don’t forget to give us a buy link.

Dancing in Time by Violet Rightmire is available at:
http://thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=402

Chapter One
She noticed him as soon as they sat down. He sat alone at the counter, absorbed in his lunch, which included a ham sandwich and a large glass of milk. He looked out of place somehow, like he should be sporting a black tie, caressing a stemmed glass, and leaning suggestively against a mantel—not eating a meal in an old dime store.

Hadleigh nudged Jann under the table and jabbed her fork in his direction.
“What’s wrong with that picture?” she demanded. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

Jann studied him as she opened her napkin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s cute.” She giggled. “He looks a little like Elvis Presley.”

Hadleigh looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He did look a little like Elvis, but not quite so baby-faced. His chin was chiseled, but not too extreme, and his cheekbones were high, but not overly pronounced. His body was well developed with a deep tan, his hands large and strong. He looks like the kind of man you could put your confidence in.

“He just seems so out of place somehow,” she said finally.

“Well, I would consider Elvis being here definitely out of place.” Jann’s eyes twinkled. “I know what it is! It’s the milk. REAL men don’t drink milk,” She winked.

Hadleigh laughed. “Not in public, you mean.”

Jann returned her gaze to the counter, and then looked back at Hadleigh with what had come to be known as That Look.

Hadleigh faked a groan. “Oh no. I don’t even want to hear this.”

“I think you should send him a refill on his milk.”

Hadleigh stifled a laugh, leaned across the table and stared under her eyebrows at Jann. “I don’t recall asking you to be the Entertainment Director on the cruise ship of my life.”

“You didn’t. I volunteered. See a need and fill it...”

“Hmmmph!” Hadleigh straightened up and smiled. “In other words, I’m stuck with you and your creative meddling.”

Jann nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Why don’t you send him a refill, since you’re feeling all this motivation?”

“No, he’s more your type. The milk and all.”

Hadleigh kicked her under the table. “It would be fun, but I don’t...”

“I dare you. Look, here comes the waitress. Come on, do something risky for a change. You might even like it.”

Debra, I love the sound of your book. I'm totally hooked. Stop by again any time.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Easter Symbols


Every year at Easter we dye some Easter eggs and set up decorations which probably include little yellow chicks or bunnies and maybe lambs. Some of us buy new clothes to wear on Easter Sunday. Perhaps we serve hot cross buns.

All traditional and lots of fun, but do you know why we do those things? I did a little research on common Easter symbols, and this is what I found out.

Easter eggs and baby chicks symbolize new life or rebirth. In Medieval Europe eggs were forbidden during Lent, so people either pickled or hard boiled them. When Easter Sunday came around they ate the eggs. Going back even further, we believe that the ancient Romans, Persians, and Egyptians also used eggs in spring festivals. Early Christians used red eggs to symbolize the resurrection of Christ and considered the egg a symbol of the rock tomb out of Christ emerged when he rose again. Today, we dye eggs all colors and hide them for children to find. And don’t forget the annual Easter Egg roll on the White House lawn.

Bunnies symbolized abundant new life in ancient times and became symbols of fertility. The inclusion of hares or rabbits into Christian celebrations probably came from Germany. The Germans told stories about Easter Hares who laid eggs for children to find. They also baked cakes for Easter in the shape of hares and probably made chocolate bunnies and cakes.

The white blossoms on Easter Lilies symbolize the purity of Jesus. They also symbolize new life and the resurrection of Christ. Because they are shaped like trumpets they are symbols of immortality. (See 1 Corinthians 15:52.)

The lamb represents Jesus who was called The Lamb of God in the Bible.

The Cross is a symbol of Jesus’ crucifixion and resurrection. Crucifixion was a common way to execute criminals during ancient times. The person was bound and nailed to a cross where they died miserably. To Christians the cross symbolizes Jesus’ victory over sin and death. That’s why the cross has become the major symbol of Christianity.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Science Fiction, Anyone?




Please help me welcome David summers to the blog. David, we're glad you came. Could you tell the readers a little bit about you and your work?

Thanks for having me, Elaine. I'm an author, editor, and astronomer living in Southern New Mexico. I have written and published six novels and over fifty short stories. I've also edited two anthologies of science fiction short stories and I edit a science fiction and fantasy magazine called Tales of the Talisman. My "day" job is operating telescopes for Kitt Peak National Observatory in Arizona.

Four of my novels are science fiction: The Solar Sea, The Pirates of Sufiro, Children of the Old Stars, and Heirs of the New Earth. Those last three form the Old Star/New Earth trilogy that tells about a vast alien intelligence on a quest through the galaxy for a missing part of itself. It becomes interested in humans, and life on Earth is changed forever. The Solar Sea is set in the same universe, but earlier. It tells the story of humanity's first voyage to the outer planets aboard a solar sail spacecraft.

The other two novels are Dragon's Fall and Vampires of the Scarlet Order. Dragon's Fall is being released as a series of five e-novellas and will eventually be collected together in one print novel. It tells the story of how a disparate group of vampires come together and become a band of mercenaries. In Vampires of the Scarlet Order, those mercenaries are called on to save the world when scientists embark on a plan to create vampire-like super soldiers. I should note that the vampire books are intended for an adult audience. My other works are generally suitable for all ages.

My anthologies are Space Pirates and Space Horrors. They form two volumes of Flying Pen Press's Full-Throttle Space Tales Series. In Space Pirates, fifteen authors explore all aspects of piracy among the stars. In Space Horrors, seventeen authors conjure up their worst nightmares about vampires, zombies, wraiths and man himself in space.

Tales of the Talisman magazine evolved out of Hadrosaur Tales magazine, which William Grother and I founded in 1995. We've been publishing a wide variety of science fiction and fantasy over the years and have been fortunate enough to feature such authors as Neal Asher, C.J. Henderson, Richard Harland, Marge Simon, and Mike Allen to name a few. Hadrosaur Tales was a pretty bare-bones fiction and poetry magazine. When we changed the title to Tales of the Talisman six years ago, we decided to add illustrations to the magazine and improve the layout. It's been recognized as one of the best-looking small press magazines in the business thanks to our art director, Laura Givens.

2.Goodness, that's impressive. Can you tell us a little about your journey to publication?

I've been writing as long as I can remember. However, one of my first serious projects was writing a Star Trek novel with a friend in high school. Around that time, Ray Bradbury came to my friend's school and we got to have lunch with him. We told him about our book and Ray Bradbury looked me in the eye and said "Send your book to a publisher now." Well, we were high school kids in the 80s without an agent, so there was essentially no chance of getting the book published.

However, that encounter stuck with me in two ways. First, Ray Bradbury's confidence in my abilities has always been an inspiration. Second, I started thinking about how I could turn our book into something marketable outside of the Star Trek universe. I ended up creating my own science fiction universe with a great confederation of humans and aliens. There were battleships and space pirates. This ended up being the foundation of my Old Star/New Earth series and the space pirate stories I've sold to a few anthologies.

My first novel, The Pirates of Sufiro, was written in the early 90s. Like many authors, I was uncertain what to do with it once I'd finished it. At the time, my wife was completing her MBA at the University of Arizona. She came up with the idea of a small press that specialized in audio books for her thesis. So, we gathered together some equipment and some friends and turned The Pirates of Sufiro into an audio book. Unfortunately, the recording technology we could afford then wasn't as good as it is now and because the books were on tape, we had to price them higher than we would have liked.

Around the time we were experimenting with the audio book, I found an agent who in turn found a publisher for The Pirates of Sufiro. That publisher went bankrupt and my agent went to jail for fraud. The upshot is that I never saw any money for the first edition. Once I got the rights back, I brought out a self-published edition of The Pirates of Sufiro through Xlibris.

During this time, I kept writing. I wrote the sequel to Pirates and my work at the observatory ultimately inspired me to write Vampires of the Scarlet Order. In short, that happened because I worked on the night shift and, at the time, we referred to ourselves as the vampires of the mountain. I began to think, what if there really were vampires that worked at observatories?

About the time I started shopping Vampires of the Scarlet Order around to publishers, a friend of mine had been hired as art director for a new press called LBF. He encouraged me to submit the book there and they snapped it up. They also asked about other books and accepted The Pirates of Sufiro and Children of the Old Stars. They also asked me to finish the third book in the trilogy. As it turns out, the Old Star/New Earth trilogy is back out in an audio edition that can be downloaded for free from Podiobooks.com – just search for the titles of the books.

In the midst of all that, I wrote quite a few short stories. Of course, I received quite a few rejections, but I started receiving some acceptances. The moral of the story is to be persistent. Keep writing and keep improving your craft. Keep submitting.

3.That's good advice. What are you working on now?

Work on Tales of the Talisman magazine is on-going. When I'm not writing or working at my day job, I'm often reading submissions for the magazine or working on layout.

I just finished a Wild West Steampunk novel called Owl Dance. It's currently being looked at by the publisher who solicited it. I hope to have some news about it soon. The novel is based on a series of short stories that have appeared in Science Fiction Trails magazine. The magazine is available at http://www.sciencefictiontrails.com

Another publisher recently contacted me about putting together a collection of my space pirate stories. To get to that publisher's required word count, I'll need to write some new material for the collection, so I'm brainstorming and making notes about that now.

4.What’s the hardest part of writing for you? The easiest?

I think the hardest part of writing is letting go of all the things going on around me and quieting my mind so that I can visualize my characters and my settings and just write. It's easy to be distracted by the kids, email, day job work and so forth. I'm fortunate enough to have a writing office in my house where I can shut the door and it's probably no surprise that I get most of my writing done when the kids are in school.
The easiest part of writing is coming up with ideas and plotting out scenes. With my current observatory job, I typically stay at work for seven nights at a time. The trade-off is that I get about seven to eight days at home afterward. This is why I can live in New Mexico and work in Arizona. The upshot is that I have a five-hour drive to and from work each week. Although I've never been good at composing into a tape recorder, I use the quiet time in the car to visualize upcoming scenes in my novels or hash out story ideas so that I can be more effective when I actually do sit down at the keyboard.

5.Has being an author made you feel differently about yourself? If so, how.

Being an author has allowed me to see aspects of myself that I never really saw before. When I write characters like pirates and vampires, I find they can say things about the world and make observations that I never could. They don't care about being politically correct or hurting anyone's feelings. I don't always agree with my characters, but they help me sort out my feelings. It's a little like cheap psychotherapy, I suppose.

Having some success as a writer has helped me develop a self-confidence I didn't really feel when I was younger. However, the fact that I still get rejections and the occasional bad review helps keep me from developing too big an ego to go with that self-confidence!

6.Please share your links with us so we can find you on the web.

My website is: http://www.davidleesummers.com
I have a blog at: http://davidleesummers.wordpress.com
There's a website about The Solar Sea at: http://thesolarsea.com
To learn more about my vampires visit: http://dlsummers.wordpress.com
For more about Tales of the Talisman magazine: http://www.talesofthetalisman.com

7.We’d love to read an excerpt from one of your books. Don’t forget to give us a buy link so we can get it.

Here's an excerpt from The Solar Sea. The book may be purchased at: http://www.amazon.com/Solar-Sea-David-Lee-Summers/dp/1897370830/

Thomas Alonzo Quinn sat in the hub of the Aristarchus, preparing to control the ship's entry into Jupiter's orbit. This stage of the flight was crucial and he wanted to see what was going on outside the ship with his own eyes. If he got it right, the ship would get ten orbits of the gas giant planet, then be primed to enter into a hyperbolic orbit that would slingshot the sailing ship onward to Saturn at a speed that would get them there in a little under six months. If he got the calculations wrong, their flight would be slowed so much, they would be better off turning around and going home to Earth.

Pilot's console in the hub displayed information about Jupiter's most unpredictable feature, its bow shock - the place where the solar wind collided head-on with Jupiter's own intense magnetic field like warm air and cold air colliding over Kansas to create a tornado. The last few months of the journey, the solar wind had been a bit more intense than normal. It was not the primary force pushing Aristarchus, but Pilot realized that the outflow of charged particles from the sun was contributing more to their motion than predicted. He tried to tell himself that was the source of the vibration he knew he could feel yet the techs could not measure. Pilot took several deep breaths as the ship approached the bow shock, telling himself several small, unmanned spacecraft had done the very maneuver he hoped to accomplish, there was no reason he should be afraid.

He began a countdown, "Ten, nine, eight ...." When he got to five, his hands drifted over the sail controls, ready to adjust course to compensate for the bow shock, if needed. When he got to three, there was a loud bang. The ship hit the bow shock unexpectedly early.

Lights flickered on and off intermittently on the console. Before hitting the bow shock, Jupiter seemed to stand still. Now, it was easy to tell they were moving toward the planet. Even though the motion appeared slow, the dial on Pilot's console confirmed what he now realized, they were careening into the planet. Gently, he eased the sails around, trying to bring the ship into orbit. As he did, the ship began to shake violently, rattling his teeth. He was slowing the ship, but not fast enough.

Jupiter's gravitational field, the collision of charged particles from the sun and Jupiter, along with photon pressure from both sources were causing the sails to vibrate at their resonant frequency.

"The masts are reaching critical stress," called Neb O'Connell from C-and-C. "If you don't back off the sails, they're going to snap."

"If I back off the sails, we'll go sailing right into the planet!" said Pilot through gritted teeth. "LaRue, give me some thrust! Help me out."

The ship's thrusters fired. If anything, the ship vibrated even more.

"There's a stress fracture developing on the number three sail." There was a hint of panic in Neb's voice. "We've got to do something quick or the ship's going to fly apart."

Pilot looked at the readout on his console and suddenly had a thought. He put his hands on the sail controls and locked his gaze on the clock on his console, counting down seconds.

"Prepare to jettison number three sail," called Jefferson from C-and-C. "LaRue, stand by on thruster control. Get Berko to the towing shuttle, now."

"No! You don't have time for all that. It's too late!" said Pilot.

"I'm not going to let this ship fall into the planet," said Jefferson, threateningly.

Without another word, Pilot commanded the sails to turn ninety degrees from where they were. As the sails turned, the ship shuddered hard and he almost bounced into the wall. All of the console's indicators moved into the red. Holding onto the console so hard, his knuckles turned white, he discerned something just a little hopeful. The planet began to visibly slow. As the sails reached position, the vibrations settled down.

After several achingly slow minutes, the planet drifted to the side. They were no longer plunging toward Jupiter. He counted down on his clock again, then moved the sails forty-five degrees back to normal. The console indicators crawled back into the yellow zones. One or two remained red. The ship was damaged. The question was, could it be repaired?

David, I loved your excerpt. I've been a sci/fi fan for a long time. Good luck with your books and your magazine.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Catching the Digital Wave

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I couldn't go to the Romantic Times convention, but I know somebody who did. Here's a guest post from Z.A. Maxfield. Z.A.,thanks so much for coming.

Last week I attended the Romantic Times Conference at the lovely Bonaventure Hotel in Los Angeles, California. This is right in my own backyard, and it was so nice to be able to simply load up the car and have my husband drive me there without worrying about luggage weight restrictions and connecting flights, or sending boxes ahead and then sending them home again.

I had a really, really good time, and I can honestly say that after two or three of these I might actually figure out what I’m doing! One thing came through loud and clear, though, and that’s “Romance Is Alive and Well.” Romance writing is hot and it sells. There were writers there that have been writing forever, and there were those that are just starting out. There were huge fans and bloggers, cover models and PR people. Romance rocked the house.

Romance is big business and if I took away any one thing it’s that epublishing, which felt like the bastard stepchild of the industry even as recently as last year, is gaining traction among even the hardest hearts. It seemed everyone was talking about it, and not -- like last year -- just weighing the pros and cons. More mainstream writers were asking how they could use self-publishing to enhance their careers. It’s no longer the province of new writers, because it seems even established authors are looking into self-publishing for those backlist books to which they have the rights, and more and more authors are asking how they can publish on their own.

Digital was the word of the day, and each panel I attended, whether it was about digital publishing or not, seemed to devolve into a discussion of the ramifications of the effect of digital technology as a whole and the subsequent consequences to writers and readers specifically.

Which only makes sense when you realize the unprecedented sales of new reading devices -- delivered as holiday gifts last year, and the number of people using Kindle apps on phones, tablets, and computers.

The times, they are a-changing, and the future is here. My only complaint is that when I read romance novels on my kindle it doesn’t display those hot, hot cover men in color, because some things never go out of style…

Saturday, April 16, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday


These sentences are from A New Dream. In this excerpt, my heroine's mother has invited my hero for dinner for the first time. A New Dream is available at: http://www.astraeapress.com/#ecwid:category=662249&mode=product&product=2676585

It felt like spring tonight even though it was almost Halloween. It was nice of Mrs. Emerson to invite him to dinner, but he figured he only had about a fifty-fifty chance of having a good time. Violet’s father still didn’t like him and made no bones about it.

Well, no use to stand outside like a little puppy begging to get in. He rapped on the door, and to his chagrin Fred Emerson came to admit him. He had pasted a smile on his face that showed most of his teeth which, if Matt thought about it too hard, was downright scary.

Friday, April 15, 2011

Hello, Lila


Today's guest is Lila Munro. Lila, welcome to the blog. Could you tell us a little bit about you and your work?

I’d love to. I write contemporary erotic romance that spans from the sensual all the way to alternative lifestyles. I currently reside on the coast of North Carolina. I’m a military wife and take much of my inspiration for my heroes from the marines I’ve lived around for the past fourteen years. I coined the term realmantica to describe my style and I strive to produce quality romance in a realistic setting. When I’m not writing, I enjoy reading everything I can get her hands on, trips to the museum and aquarium, taking field research trips, and soaking up the sun on the nearby beaches. Currently I’m working on sequels to several series to be released throughout 2010-2011. I also work as the Director of Marketing and Public Relations for Rebel Ink Press.

It doesn't sound like you have a lot of free time! What event spurred you to become an author?

There wasn’t a single event that led me down this path, instead it was a series of encouraging happenings. I’ve always loved the written word, in fact since before I could read it for myself. At age 8 I asked Santa for a toy typewriter, and in the sixth grade my creative writing teacher stoked the embers of an already smoldering passion. He told me I held the ability to carry a story line forward. After that write was all I ever wanted to do, but due to life and all its twists and turns I never pursued it until I was 40.

I started early too. I dictated my first story when I was five. What do you think is the hardest part of writing? The easiest?

The hardest part. Paying attention while driving because I have a character talking so much and so quickly I can’t keep track of both things at once. I say that because I recently caught myself nearly running a stop sign while Kurt—my hero in book two of the Delaney Brothers series—was rambling on about what he wanted to do with Dee. And they say texting and driving is bad. Try internal character dialoguing and driving. The easiest thing. Wow. Is any of it easy? It’s a lot of work yet so fulfilling. I’d say the most enjoyable part is seeing and hearing people enjoying my stories and understanding my characters.

What makes a book a page turner? A solid plot and well developed characters. When the characters are two dimensional the story falls flat. When I can relate to the characters and their plight, the writer has done his/her job.

What are 3 things that would surprise the readers to learn about you?

I’ve moved 8 times in 14 years due to my husband’s occupation, I’m a naughty novel writing grandma, and I have a double B.S. and an A.S none of which I’ve ever pursued a career in. The degrees are in psychology, sociology and English.

You're an interesting person! I taught some classes in sociology last year and loved the subject. Would you share your links with us?

Absolutely. Your readers may find me at: my website http://lilamunro.weebly.com , my joint effort website http://www.wickedmuses.blogspot.com or through Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/Lila_Munro You can also contact me via email at lilasromance@gmail.com For more information about Rebel Ink Press please visit their website at www.rebelinkpress.com

We’d love to read an excerpt. Do give us a buy link.

Please enjoy this small sample from A Slower Lower Love now available at:
http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-slowerlowerlove-506546-148.html

The sound of seagulls screeching like nails on a chalkboard pulled Cait out of the peaceful place somewhere between sleep and wake she’d been dozing in and out of most of the morning. The raucous cacophony was far too close for comfort. Pushing up on her forearms in the warm soft sand, she peeled her eyes open. A summer browned boy that looked to be around ten or eleven stood a few yards away with a clear plastic bag full of bread crusts. The band of ivory and gray birds dipping and swooping behind him cast shadows over her and her fluffy yellow beach towel. Did the boy have no sense at all? Probably the offspring of interlopers, he obviously didn’t realize the scavenging birds would never leave if you fed them even once.

“Hey, kid,” she shouted. “Go somewhere else with your bag of bread.”
She didn’t want to share her space with a child and his flock of motley birds. Why wasn’t he back in school anyway? It was well past Labor Day.

He glanced over at her, pulled a piece of crust from the bag, and waved it in the air blatantly ignoring her wishes to be left alone.
Hating to be taunted, she started to get up. “I said get down the beach you scrawny urchin, this isn’t public access so go.”

After watching him dart away with the gulls not far behind, she lowered herself back on her towel and closed her eyes again. She’d come here to rest and try to piece her life back together, not deal with truants.

It was her mother’s suggestion that she take a week at the beach house after the last holiday weekend of summer and Cait had only agreed after giving the idea serious pause. After all, there were memories here she didn’t particularly care to rehash. At the time her mother called however, the beach seemed like a better alternative than being secluded in her townhouse for one more day, sitting all alone. But if Cait's first morning home was any indication as to what her stay was going to be like, she might well change her mind and go back to Baltimore before sundown.

For now, though, she was here. The very place that eight years ago she’d absconded like it was infested with the plague, fleeing for a life outside the confines of small town life to anywhere bigger, USA.
It just so happened that anywhere bigger at the time was Pittsburg. Cait found a job and earned a degree at the university. Then she’d gone on to land a gig at one of the nation’s biggest marketing firms in Baltimore. After working her way up from the mail room, she’d been in charge of some very affluent client accounts. Always looking for more though, the climb hadn’t been enough fast enough for Cait. No. She wanted everything. But, unfortunately, everything came with a price.

Lila, Thanks so much for coming. Good luck with your book.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Anne Albert's In The House



Anne Albert's here! Anne, thanks so much for stopping by. Can you tell us a little bit about yourself.

I married my best friend and high school sweetheart, and am blessed with one incredible daughter. I love to travel. I’ve had numerous jobs, but the one thing that’s remained a constant in my life is writing. It’s the one thing that keeps me focused, grounded, and more importantly, happy.

Spoken like a true writer. What did you hope to accomplish with your books?

All I’ve ever wanted to do is entertain the reader. If I can bring a tear to their eye and a smile to their face, well, that’s all the better!

What is the greatest test you ever faced as a writer?

I broke my wrist and didn’t write for months. Worse, I was unsure I ever would. That complete lack of desire to write terrified me. I’m so grateful it passed. Oh, and my wrist? It works. Definitely not as well as it did before the break, but it works. I’m grateful for that, too!

I'm glad for you too, Anne. What’s the best advice you ever got about the publishing industry?

A writer who’s name I can’t recall, said on a writer’s forum one day that if she submitted to one agent or publisher at a time as per their instructions, and then waited for a reply before she submitted to the next agent or publisher, she’d die an old lady and never achieve her dream of being published.

Up until that point, I’d always followed the ‘rules’. I’d also been waiting 18-months for a reply from an editor who’d requested my full manuscript. When I received the rejection letter a few weeks later, I vowed not to play that waiting game again.

So, I sent out multiple query letters, and received multiple requests. The day I signed the contract with my publisher I notified the other two houses who had my manuscript that I was withdrawing my submission. Both thanked me, and wished me all the best. The bottom line is I achieved my dream of being a published author…and I did it while I’m still breathing!

That's interesting. I gave that same advice to a friend just today! If you could meet two authors, which ones would you pick and why?

Mark Twain because of his wit. He said, “'Classic.' A book which people praise and don't read.” “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak out and remove all doubt.”

Robert Heinlein because he wrote the book that was the basis for my all time favorite movie, Puppet Masters. Plus, like Twain, he had a sense of humor. “Writing is not necessarily something to be ashamed of, but do it in private and wash your hands afterwards.”

Good choices. Could you share your links with us?

Absolutely! My website: http://www.AnneKAlbert.com
My main blog: http://anne-k-albert.blogspot.com

We’d love to read an excerpt.

This is from the first chapter of DEFENDING GLORY (ISBN: 978-1-935407-95-9)

A warm breeze whooshed through the open office window, whipping the items Mac had pinned to a cork bulletin board on the wall opposite his desk. One photograph and accompanying article snipped from the local newspaper caught his attention. Written less than a year earlier to coincide with the grand opening of McKeown General Contracting, it told readers how as a young boy he had worked with his grandfather, a master tradesman in Minneapolis. Fond memories of their fishing trips to Piedmont Island spurred Mac to move north and open his own business.

He had felt so confident then. So certain he’d made the right decision. But with few construction projects on the horizon, and cash so tight he could not afford to paint his company’s name or phone number on the side of his truck to attract future clients, it was doubtful he’d still be in business by the end of summer.

Then what?

The buzzer inside his shop blared. A quick glance at the wall clock provided a spark of hope. 8:00 A.M. on the dot. Someone must need his services to come by so early in the morning. Reaching for his cane, he pushed himself up from the chair, and headed to the front of the building. A couple stood near the counter with their backs toward him.

“Good morning,” he said. “How may I help you?”

They turned to face him and his optimism fizzled. Although he did not recognize the woman, he was acquainted with the man. The pastor’s appearance inside his shop could mean only one thing. They had no desire to save his business. Their only concern was his soul.
* * *
To read more, click the buy link
http://www.amazon.com/Defending-Glory-ebook/dp/B0045JL61E/

Thank you so much, Elaine, for featuring me today. I’d like to pose a question to your readers. Everyone who leaves a comment (please choose either #1 or #2) will be entered in a draw to win an e-book copy of DEFENDING GLORY. I’ll notify the winner (selected at random) on or before April 19 and post it on my Piedmont Island Trilogy blog - http://piedmont-island-trilogy.blogspot.com/.

Now, here’s what I’d like to know…
1) As a reader, what one characteristic should a heroine possess?
2) What one characteristic do you find irresistible in a hero?

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Six Sentence Sunday


Today's sentences are from A New Dream which is available at http://www.astraeapress.com In this excerpt, Matt thinks about asking Violet to go with him to his brother's birthday party.

Would she go with him if he asked? Something about the
way she’d touched him when she scraped the cake off his shirt
made him think that maybe she would. Maybe he imagined it, but
once or twice he thought she’d been tracing the outline of his pecs.
Her eyes sparkled, too. Every time she looked at him her
violet blue eyes started to twinkle. When they did, his chest got
tight, and he started to sweat.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Welcome Berengaria Brown


My guest today is Berengaria Brown. Berengaria, welcome to the blog. Tell us a little bit about yourself.

Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (ghosts, vampires and werewolves) and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men…. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.

HEAs for sure! How did you celebrate when you received “the call”?

I wrote a book, researched the various houses, and sent it to a publisher that sold that kind of book. While I was waiting to hear back, I wrote another book in a different genre, sent it off to a house that sold its type of book and waited. So I actually contracted four books in a two-week time-span. When I sold the first one I was very excited. By the time I received the fourth contract I was delirious with joy! This meant I had four books come out with four different houses quite quickly one after the other. It also meant I had edits at four different houses almost simultaneously too, though.

I'm surprised you survived. I just did edits for two at one time, and it almost killed me. You write erotic romance. What drew you to this genre? Do you write in any other genre?

I read very widely across genres, so I write different genres, too. But I do tend to enjoy erotic romances, so that is what I write. I don’t think I have the patience to craft the intricate plot a straight mystery book needs.

When you have a new book coming out, do you worry about reader reaction?

Sending a new baby out into the world, I always hope people will like her. But readers enjoy all different styles of book, so sooner or later your book is not going to suit someone. I am amazed that people who buy a short story complain that it wasn’t longer, though. It is impossible to have the depth of plot in ten thousand words that can be achieved in fifty thousand.

That's very true. Is there a particular author who has especially influenced your writing? If so who and how?

I have written two Regency-set historicals and that is because Georgette Heyer instilled in me a great love of the era. I am endlessly amazed at how women of those days, with almost no legal rights, managed to carve out lives for themselves and find happiness.

Would you share your links with us?

http://berengariasblog.blogspot.com/
http://berengariabrown.webs.com/
http://www.facebook.com/people/Berengaria-Brown/100000055736290/
http://twitter.com/BerengariaBrown

Please share an excerpt with us. Don’t forget to include a buy link.

Blurb “Changing Cherry”

Cherry gives up her life in America to live with Harry and Lee in China. Will she regret her decision or find happiness as well as great orgasms?
Cherry McNair has been invited to come and live in Beijing with Song Hao (Harry) and Li Chang (Lee), two of the one hundred million young men for whom there are no brides available in China.
The men are kind and caring, and at first Cherry is happy, learning to cook for them and settling into her new life. And the sex is fantastic, innovative, fulfilling.
But one day she realizes she has no job, no hobbies, no friends. She knows only a few words of Mandarin and the traffic frightens her. Should she return home or stay?

PG Excerpt

Cherry McNair shook her shoulder-length dark brown hair off her face and pushed her luggage trolley out of the customs area and into the arrivals hall at the Beijing Capital International Airport, ready to start her new life. Well sort of ready.

I’m almost thirty years old. All my remaining possessions are in two suitcases. I’ve quit my job, left my country and my friends, and am about to start a whole new life in a new land where I don’t even speak the language, and be the “wife” of two men. Well, it’s what women have been doing for centuries after all. Although they probably didn’t have two husbands!

Lee and Harry had promised to meet her, and they’d all exchanged plenty of photographs in their emails, but she was still feeling rather dazed after the long flight and the huge size of the airport and worried about recognizing them in such a large crowd. They’re part-American, part-Chinese, but to me they look quite Chinese. Will they look like their photos?Lee’s hair sort of shaggy and a little bit longer, Harry’s skin a slightly darker brown?

Sheesh. I thought LAX was big, but having to catch a train to get to your luggage— Sheesh.

Nevertheless the crowd was very well behaved. People were talking and laughing, but they were standing in neat lines, waiting politely for others to pass. There was no pushing or shoving or screaming as there had been back at LAX. I’ve never travelled so far before, through so many time zones. It’s all so very big. But I like it. It’s friendly and welcoming and totally fascinating.

Lots of people were holding up signs with names on them.
And there they were, Lee and Harry, Lee holding a sign saying “Cherry” and Harry holding a bunch of bright yellow sunflowers.

Cherry pushed her trolley down the aisle then into the arrivals hall proper and stood to the side as Li Chang and Song Hao made their way through the crowds to meet her.

Both men bowed slightly then broke into smiles.

“Welcome to Beijing, Cherry,” said Harry.

“I hope your journey was not too tiring,” added Lee.

“The flight was smooth. I made all my connections without any worries. Everything went well. Thank you for coming to meet me,” replied Cherry rather disjointedly.

Harry handed her the flowers, bowing slightly again, as Lee took charge of her trolley.

“Come this way. I’ll go and get the car while Harry waits with you and the luggage.”

Cherry nodded, trying to pull herself out of her daze as her blue-gray eyes looked around at the spectacular building, filled with light from its high glass walls, with lots of interesting metal shapes in the structure and huge artworks dotted around the floor space. And flowers. Lots of flowers and plants in planter boxes.

Buy link: http://www.aspenmountainpress.com/new-releases/changing-cherry/prod_373.html

Berengaria, thanks for stopping by. Good luck with your book.

Monday, April 4, 2011

Welcome Josh Tremino

Hello! First time author Josh Tremino is joining us today. He's doing a short blog post and then answering some interview questions and sharing excerpts with us. Josh is an English teacher which is nice because I'm a history teacher. Josh, take it away.

Love and the Ultimate Sacrifice
Josh Tremino

Last week, I saw Tangled for the first time. This was a great little movie complete with a blond princess, amusing animals, and a clever romance. But after I left the theatre, one moment in particular keeps resonating in my chest. This movie illustrated my favorite part of romance, the most profound and meaningful part of any relationship: sacrifice.

Spoilers: I’m about to give away the ending to this movie.

At the end of this movie, Flynn Rider is about to die. As he clutches his fatal wound, he listens to Repunzel as she tries to get her captor to let her heal him. If she does, she will lose her freedom. After a few tense moments, Repunzel is allowed to go to him. She will give up everything for him. She will spend her life in captivity to save this boy.

I find this moment intense and fascinating. So much of romance is about sacrifice. In the smallest sense, it’s letting the guy or girl you love pick where you’ll go to dinner. Or maybe it’s about taking on an extra shift so you can get her something nice for her birthday.

If you want to go more epic, sacrifice is the moment when one character will give up what she wants most to save the a loved one. In Tangled, our princess hero craves her freedom, but she’ll give it up for the boy she loves. She goes to him, ready to sacrifice everything until he slashes away her hair, removing her magic and condemning him to death.

She will give up everything for him; he’ll give up everything for her. It’s beautiful, it’s wonderful, and it’s painful because this is love.

In our culture and life in general, love gets messed up with a bunch of other concepts. Love might get confused with friendship or sex. Love might be about meeting someone else’s expectations. But throw in some sacrifice, and it gets simple pretty quickly.

Are you willing to suffer or die? This combination simplifies the questions of romantic love. These people care about one another in a meaningful, fundamental, and nearly primordial way.

The same question of sacrifice arises in both of my upcoming novels. In Poisoned Star, Treya ultimately has to choose between her life and the boy she’s come to love. She knows that defying her masters will result in her death. For her, there is no question. There is no hope, so her decision nearly impossible.

Nick, the main character from Angels in Disguise, puts himself in the position where he will die for the woman he loves. He is part-demon and an angel’s light will kill him, but he exposes himself anyway because he must if he wants to save Jenny.

Love and the ultimate sacrifice, together they simplify a lot of questions whether it’s in one of my paranormal romances or an awesome Disney movie like Tangled.

Josh, that's beautiful. Now for that interview!

1.Can you tell us five things about you that nobody would ever guess?

1. My favorite song is Aqua’s “Barbie Girl”.
2. I still watch Degrassi.
3. Nicholas Sparks is one of favorite writers.
4. I really liked the Twilight series.
5. I love romance and believe in true love.

2.What do you think makes a book a page turner?

For me, a book is compelling and pulls me in when I get to see how characters’ relationships develop. A good point is all about learning how people interact with one another. Maybe it’s a romantic subplot or watching two brothers learn to interact, but all good stories come down to people. Yes, explosions and combat and bombs can be very exciting, but if people aren’t involved, then those things don’t mean anything. That’s probably why I wasn’t a big fan of Transformers.
3.Which genre of books appeals least to you? Why?
As an English teacher, I can read pretty much anything, but mysteries are probably my least favorite genre. I’ve only read a couple, so I probably shouldn’t judge the entire genre, but their characters always seem too bland. Yes, someone died and that can be pretty exciting, but the person is dead, so I don’t have a lot of investment. I watch shows like Castle and Bones, but those shows attract me more for the interpersonal subplots.

5.On the average, how long does it take you to write a book.

It takes me anywhere between three and five months to write a book on my own. First I’ll jot down a bunch of ideas in a notebook, then I’ll type up a formal outline, and finally I’ll sit down and write it. From there, I edit it alone, submit it to a publisher, and work through the final kinks with an editor. Once the publisher’s editor comes in, things slow down a lot as we start to negotiate points of style, language, and plot.

6.Would you share your links with us?

www.JoshTremino.com
Be sure to friend me on Facebook for more updates, cool links, and other fun tidbits.

7.We’d love to read an excerpt. Be sure to give us a buy link.

If you’re interested in a new twist on the vampire novel, check out Infinite. You can purchase it at:
http://www.amazon.com/Infinite-Josh-Tremino/dp/1935605712/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1301344511&sr=8-1
Here’s an excerpt of Poisoned Star (tentatively scheduled for release in July, 2011).

Prologue
Kayla, if you’re out there, if you read this,

The satellites recorded everything. The explosions. The people, all running and terrified. Since the attack, I have seen it all. Even the military records. They couldn’t keep those from me either. I have been a digital witness to the destruction of our home and our families.

It took four minutes and thirty six seconds. Long range missiles fired from a million miles away destroyed the defense satellites. Alien fighters descended through the atmosphere and bombed our grounded ships. Nothing made it to the air. Alarms barely went off before the entire grid blackened to static.

They left the surveillance grid online. Each of the satellites circled overhead. They recorded the alien ship. They watched its cannons grow from the hull and pummel our world from the safety of space. Hundreds of cameras and sensors took in thousands of hours of data. And I’ve worked through it all. Everyone else is accounted for.

Except we haven’t found your body.

You’re supposed to be dead. I get it. Lots of people would say I’m chasing a ghost, but they’re wrong. I don’t care what they say. I know you’re still out there, and I’m going to get back to you. Nothing else matters. It’s you and it’s me.
In a better world, I’d be gone too. We should have shared the same fate. But the universe isn’t logical. Our best scientists make guesses and fill out their equations, yet it’s so uncertain. Everyone said I would make a difference for our species. That’s why they pulled me out of school, put me through those special tests. They wanted to see what I could do.

Gone, off world, I didn’t see it, not until the flames died. Only charred bodies and broken buildings. Back on Earth, they held the memorials. Politicians swore revenge, and they sent ships out. None have come back. But now they have a new weapon.

This time will be different.

That’s the promise anyway.

In a couple hours we’ll jump back to the Caderis system, and I’m pretty sure I know what’ll happen. And if I’m as smart as the tests say, if the rumors are true and I’ve put all of the puzzle pieces together just right, then I’ll get to see you again.

But if I’m wrong, if I don’t get to see you again, I hope you find this. I pray you’re alive and you know someone came for you. I didn’t forget.


--From the grid posts of Carson Winters


Chapter One: Invasion

Three, two, one, Treya counted as she watched the piercer missiles zoom at the first Terran patrol ship. Zero, she finished and a pair of explosions blossomed across space. More than ten thousand kilometers away, Treya watched the destruction safely on the bridge of her warship. She commanded this ship, a Poisoned Star. It was one of the universe’s most powerful weapons.

Nothing could match a Poisoned Star’s destructive power. The patrol ship filled with humans proved it. Moments ago, it was worth billions of credits. After one thought and a couple missiles, it burned into drifting slag.

Treya tilted her head as she assessed the damage. The human ship had looked like a boxy behemoth. Steel gray, its designers equipped it with missiles and a few cannons. Little kids could have stared up at it, excited about how something so big and powerful could belong to their people. Those same children might have cried at their great ship now. It only took two missiles to twist their monument into burning wreckage. The Terrans wielded nothing next to the might of a Poisoned Star.
Every one of the patrol’s compartments lost pressure as puffs of oxygen puffed out into space. Treya didn’t feel the flicker of power from any environmental suits. Every member of the crew perished. Her master would be pleased.

One ship remained, this one larger and better equipped. The cruiser hovered in space, braced as if its crew understood what they faced. This ship was their colony’s last line of defense. It should have been imposing as well, but Treya imagined that she could almost feel the humans’ fear. They’d saw an alien warship, and they had to know they could never win.

Data from her ship’s sensors streamed through her mind, fed by the relay at the base of her neck. The hull contained thousands of sensors, preceptors, scanners, and different kinds of technology Treya couldn’t even name. She used it by instinct and intuition.

Two direct hits, Treya heard along with a healthy dose of satisfaction. Always cautious, Leandra was the first half of the warship’s artificial intelligence. She always wanted the first strike to devastate before they got any closer. Missiles two and three are armed as well. Those numbers sounded tiny when their ship could launch hundreds of piercer missiles at a time.

Treya didn’t even need to say anything. She sent the thought and watched another pair of missiles streak across her perceptions. Her eyes told her that she was looking at a curved blank wall, but Treya saw more than that. Overlaid against her sight were different squares of information, everything she needed to pilot Leandra, manage the fighter squadrons docked throughout her hull, and ensure the completion of any mission the Foundation gave her. Without moving, she could control the full force of her Poisoned Star.

Two, one, Treya counted again, finishing with the third and fourth explosions. Reaching out with Leandra’s sensors, Treya watched the second cruiser’s lights blink out. Its thrusters went cold and dead. There were a few emergency lights, red pinpricks against the steel-gray hull, but Treya knew the ship wouldn’t fight back. In seconds, the shuttle bay exploded open and three little ships flew out while dozens of escape pods shot away from the dying cruiser.

The target is neutralized, Leandra sent directly into Treya’s mind. The implant at the base of her skull connected their minds.

Not yet, Treya answered, firing up the Poisoned Star’s thrusters. The distance between Leandra and the broken cruisers shrank in seconds. They were probably scared, Treya understood, but there was no sympathy in the thought.
She focused on the shuttle commanders trying who pretended her warship couldn’t destroy them. They must have been trained, probably gone through countless meetings and strategy sessions.

And none of it would mean anything against the power of this ship. Their engines roared to life as they tried to scream away, but they couldn’t escape. None of their ships had the speed, armor, or weapons to threaten a Poisoned Star.
A single Poisoned Star could leave the entire Directorate burnt ash, but Treya didn’t do that because the Foundation never gave her the command.

One thousand kilometers, six hundred, three hundred, and Treya watched the little squares. Each one could hold ten or twenty humans, soldiers of the United Terran Directorate, enemies of the Foundation. Heretics.

Treya targeted Leandra’s rail guns. Each of the cannons could spout ninety rounds per second. Across the ship, a hundred guns extended themselves from the hull, each armed with thousands of explosive rounds generated in Leandra’s automated foundries. Between thirty-two escape pods and three shuttles, Treya picked her targets. No remorse, she told herself.

They’re trying to call for help.

Let them, Treya said. It doesn’t matter. They were stupid to come into this system. They should know better. Treya didn’t hear the sound of her voice. As a pilot, she only spoke to Leandra and Indigo. They heard her thoughts. Voices were for humans. Trained by the Foundation, Treya became something different long ago.

As much as I like the compliment, you don’t think we could get outnumbered?
I think it doesn’t matter. That was true. Terrans had their cruisers, their carriers, their nukes, and even those hulking fortress ships. Even as one massive fleet, they would never have a chance against Leandra.

Between her hundreds of guns, thousands of missiles, unlimited energies and stocks of supplies, her regenerating hull, and skeletal armor, this living ship was large enough, fast enough, and strong enough to destroy their entire species. That wasn’t a boast, just reality.

You shouldn’t underestimate them.

Quit being such a wimp, chirped the third voice. Treya felt the corner of her mouth rise because that was always Indigo’s attitude. Leandra was the ship’s personality, but the bank of fighters and drones stored throughout her hull had a different mind. Protected between Leandra’s four wings and in dozens of storage bays, Indigo protected the Poisoned Star from enemy fighters and boarding parties.
Technically a swarm, she should have been scattered, insectoid and frightening. Instead, Indigo was one mind with a thousand bodies, always cheerful and eager to dance between stars and planets. We can take them, Indigo promised.

They’re humans. There’s nothing more dangerous than a desperate human. They come up with some really nasty stuff. Plagues, suicide bombers. You should always be careful around them. Leandra studied human history and understood their potential. One day they might come up with some new weapon, something capable of destroying a Poisoned Star.

I’m a human too, Treya said, Do you think I could defeat the Foundation? That idea felt like a paradox. The answer was supposed to be obvious. No. Nothing could defeat the Foundation. That’s what they were always told. Indigo and Leandra were programmed to know the Foundation was invincible. Treya’s handler made sure she’d remember the same fact for the rest of her life.

Nothing could defeat a Poisoned Star, the war machine for a species of scholars, artists, scientists, and philosophers. More importantly, Indigo, Treya, and Leandra all knew that attacking the Foundation would be suicide. No one survived against their might. Humans had been in space for centuries. Despite all of that experience, their weapons were still worthless against the armors and firepower brought by just one of the Foundation’s ships. Defying the Foundation meant death. For anyone.

Don’t even joke about that.

The girl makes a good point, Indigo said, laughing from the hundred and thirty-three fighters which made up her body. Humans don’t have anything. Those little boxes are just metal with a couple fusion generators and some pellet guns. Come on! The Foundation hasn’t used technology like that in centuries. They might as well throw feces at us.

Treya thought these words like a prayer. We are loyal to the Foundation. She had to say them or something bad might happen. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t need to make sense. That might have been another part of her training even if it came a few seconds late. Despite the shiver down her back, Treya added, Disobedience will not be tolerated. Her handler’s words.

Concentrating on the cloud of Terran escape pods, Treya heard the different calls for help. Most of them were coded, nothing but static to Leandra’s receivers. She could have tried to hack the messages but didn’t see the point. Then she heard the calls on standard frequencies too. These weren’t in codes or ciphers, just soldiers who were too scared to remember the procedures that were supposed to keep them alive.

“Contact!” shouted some kid, a young man Treya guessed. “Repeat! The Falcon and The Hunter are down. We’re coming. Repeat, we’re coming! Get ready! The enemy is here! They’re here!” He must’ve been alone, Treya figured. Otherwise, he wouldn’t let so much terror bleed into his cries for help. That’s what she thought as she locked the rail guns onto the pods and gave the thought to fire. She didn’t need to say anything.

Slivers of lights shot from Leandra’s cannons. It could have been a light show, Treya thought, remembering something from her childhood. Probing the memory, she didn’t find any feelings, no longing or regret, simply the images of red and blue circles of light in the night sky.
Bullets from the rail guns were all bright yellow while the pods burst into little spheres of orange. Puffs of flame disappeared into vacuum. Too small to burn for more than a second, the flames collapsed, and Treya didn’t hear any more distress calls.

Onto the planet, she ordered. There were probably scientists somewhere in the universe interested in the Caderis system. Choked with more than twenty planets, a hundred moons, an asteroid belt, and a big ball of some kind of gas, it was as diverse a system as any Treya had ever seen before. But there was just one little blue globe suitable for human habitation.

The Terrans would be there, so that’s where she had to go.

Weapons platforms, several cruisers, two carriers, and there are buildings on the surface, Leandra sent, her voice hushed as she focused on piercing the distance and atmosphere to see what the Terrans brought to this invasion.

Bring us in. Most direct path. She wanted to get this over with.

Hello, Josh Tremino

my guest today is Josh Tremino. Josh has a short blog post of his own, and then he's answering some questions for me. Take it away, Josh.

Love and the Ultimate Sacrifice
Josh Tremino

Last week, I saw Tangled for the first time. This was a great little movie complete with a blond princess, amusing animals, and a clever romance. But after I left the theatre, one moment in particular keeps resonating in my chest. This movie illustrated my favorite part of romance, the most profound and meaningful part of any relationship: sacrifice.

Spoilers: I’m about to give away the ending to this movie.

At the end of this movie, Flynn Rider is about to die. As he clutches his fatal wound, he listens to Repunzel as she tries to get her captor to let her heal him. If she does, she will lose her freedom. After a few tense moments, Repunzel is allowed to go to him. She will give up everything for him. She will spend her life in captivity to save this boy.

I find this moment intense and fascinating. So much of romance is about sacrifice. In the smallest sense, it’s letting the guy or girl you love pick where you’ll go to dinner. Or maybe it’s about taking on an extra shift so you can get her something nice for her birthday.

If you want to go more epic, sacrifice is the moment when one character will give up what she wants most to save the a loved one. In Tangled, our princess hero craves her freedom, but she’ll give it up for the boy she loves. She goes to him, ready to sacrifice everything until he slashes away her hair, removing her magic and condemning him to death.

She will give up everything for him; he’ll give up everything for her. It’s beautiful, it’s wonderful, and it’s painful because this is love.

In our culture and life in general, love gets messed up with a bunch of other concepts. Love might get confused with friendship or sex. Love might be about meeting someone else’s expectations. But throw in some sacrifice, and it gets simple pretty quickly.

Are you willing to suffer or die? This combination simplifies the questions of romantic love. These people care about one another in a meaningful, fundamental, and nearly primordial way.

The same question of sacrifice arises in both of my upcoming novels. In Poisoned Star, Treya ultimately has to choose between her life and the boy she’s come to love. She knows that defying her masters will result in her death. For her, there is no question. There is no hope, so her decision nearly impossible.

Nick, the main character from Angels in Disguise, puts himself in the position where he will die for the woman he loves. He is part-demon and an angel’s light will kill him, but he exposes himself anyway because he must if he wants to save Jenny.

Love and the ultimate sacrifice, together they simplify a lot of questions whether it’s in one of my paranormal romances or an awesome Disney movie like Tangled.

Oh, my goodness! I love it. Now let's get to that interview.

1.Can you tell us five things about you that nobody would ever guess?
1. My favorite song is Aqua’s “Barbie Girl”.
2. I still watch Degrassi.
3. Nicholas Sparks is one of favorite writers.
4. I really liked the Twilight series.
5. I love romance and believe in true love.
2.What do you think makes a book a page turner?
For me, a book is compelling and pulls me in when I get to see how characters’ relationships develop. A good point is all about learning how people interact with one another. Maybe it’s a romantic subplot or watching two brothers learn to interact, but all good stories come down to people. Yes, explosions and combat and bombs can be very exciting, but if people aren’t involved, then those things don’t mean anything. That’s probably why I wasn’t a big fan of Transformers.
3.Which genre of books appeals least to you? Why?
As an English teacher, I can read pretty much anything, but mysteries are probably my least favorite genre. I’ve only read a couple, so I probably shouldn’t judge the entire genre, but their characters always seem too bland. Yes, someone died and that can be pretty exciting, but the person is dead, so I don’t have a lot of investment. I watch shows like Castle and Bones, but those shows attract me more for the interpersonal subplots.
5.On the average, how long does it take you to write a book.
It takes me anywhere between three and five months to write a book on my own. First I’ll jot down a bunch of ideas in a notebook, then I’ll type up a formal outline, and finally I’ll sit down and write it. From there, I edit it alone, submit it to a publisher, and work through the final kinks with an editor. Once the publisher’s editor comes in, things slow down a lot as we start to negotiate points of style, language, and plot.
6.Would you share your links with us?
www.JoshTremino.com
Be sure to friend me on Facebook for more updates, cool links, and other fun tidbits.
7.We’d love to read an excerpt. Be sure to give us a buy link.
If you’re interested in a new twist on the vampire novel, check out Infinite. You can purchase it at:
http://www.amazon.com/Infinite-Josh-Tremino/dp/1935605712/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1301344511&sr=8-1
Here’s an excerpt of Poisoned Star (tentatively scheduled for release in July, 2011).
Prologue
Kayla, if you’re out there, if you read this,

The satellites recorded everything. The explosions. The people, all running and terrified. Since the attack, I have seen it all. Even the military records. They couldn’t keep those from me either. I have been a digital witness to the destruction of our home and our families.
It took four minutes and thirty six seconds. Long range missiles fired from a million miles away destroyed the defense satellites. Alien fighters descended through the atmosphere and bombed our grounded ships. Nothing made it to the air. Alarms barely went off before the entire grid blackened to static.
They left the surveillance grid online. Each of the satellites circled overhead. They recorded the alien ship. They watched its cannons grow from the hull and pummel our world from the safety of space. Hundreds of cameras and sensors took in thousands of hours of data. And I’ve worked through it all. Everyone else is accounted for.
Except we haven’t found your body.
You’re supposed to be dead. I get it. Lots of people would say I’m chasing a ghost, but they’re wrong. I don’t care what they say. I know you’re still out there, and I’m going to get back to you. Nothing else matters. It’s you and it’s me.
In a better world, I’d be gone too. We should have shared the same fate. But the universe isn’t logical. Our best scientists make guesses and fill out their equations, yet it’s so uncertain. Everyone said I would make a difference for our species. That’s why they pulled me out of school, put me through those special tests. They wanted to see what I could do.
Gone, off world, I didn’t see it, not until the flames died. Only charred bodies and broken buildings. Back on Earth, they held the memorials. Politicians swore revenge, and they sent ships out. None have come back. But now they have a new weapon.
This time will be different.
That’s the promise anyway.
In a couple hours we’ll jump back to the Caderis system, and I’m pretty sure I know what’ll happen. And if I’m as smart as the tests say, if the rumors are true and I’ve put all of the puzzle pieces together just right, then I’ll get to see you again.
But if I’m wrong, if I don’t get to see you again, I hope you find this. I pray you’re alive and you know someone came for you. I didn’t forget.

--From the grid posts of Carson Winters

Chapter One: Invasion
Three, two, one, Treya counted as she watched the piercer missiles zoom at the first Terran patrol ship. Zero, she finished and a pair of explosions blossomed across space. More than ten thousand kilometers away, Treya watched the destruction safely on the bridge of her warship. She commanded this ship, a Poisoned Star. It was one of the universe’s most powerful weapons.
Nothing could match a Poisoned Star’s destructive power. The patrol ship filled with humans proved it. Moments ago, it was worth billions of credits. After one thought and a couple missiles, it burned into drifting slag.
Treya tilted her head as she assessed the damage. The human ship had looked like a boxy behemoth. Steel gray, its designers equipped it with missiles and a few cannons. Little kids could have stared up at it, excited about how something so big and powerful could belong to their people. Those same children might have cried at their great ship now. It only took two missiles to twist their monument into burning wreckage. The Terrans wielded nothing next to the might of a Poisoned Star.
Every one of the patrol’s compartments lost pressure as puffs of oxygen puffed out into space. Treya didn’t feel the flicker of power from any environmental suits. Every member of the crew perished. Her master would be pleased.
One ship remained, this one larger and better equipped. The cruiser hovered in space, braced as if its crew understood what they faced. This ship was their colony’s last line of defense. It should have been imposing as well, but Treya imagined that she could almost feel the humans’ fear. They’d saw an alien warship, and they had to know they could never win.
Data from her ship’s sensors streamed through her mind, fed by the relay at the base of her neck. The hull contained thousands of sensors, preceptors, scanners, and different kinds of technology Treya couldn’t even name. She used it by instinct and intuition.
Two direct hits, Treya heard along with a healthy dose of satisfaction. Always cautious, Leandra was the first half of the warship’s artificial intelligence. She always wanted the first strike to devastate before they got any closer. Missiles two and three are armed as well. Those numbers sounded tiny when their ship could launch hundreds of piercer missiles at a time.
Treya didn’t even need to say anything. She sent the thought and watched another pair of missiles streak across her perceptions. Her eyes told her that she was looking at a curved blank wall, but Treya saw more than that. Overlaid against her sight were different squares of information, everything she needed to pilot Leandra, manage the fighter squadrons docked throughout her hull, and ensure the completion of any mission the Foundation gave her. Without moving, she could control the full force of her Poisoned Star.
Two, one, Treya counted again, finishing with the third and fourth explosions. Reaching out with Leandra’s sensors, Treya watched the second cruiser’s lights blink out. Its thrusters went cold and dead. There were a few emergency lights, red pinpricks against the steel-gray hull, but Treya knew the ship wouldn’t fight back. In seconds, the shuttle bay exploded open and three little ships flew out while dozens of escape pods shot away from the dying cruiser.
The target is neutralized, Leandra sent directly into Treya’s mind. The implant at the base of her skull connected their minds.
Not yet, Treya answered, firing up the Poisoned Star’s thrusters. The distance between Leandra and the broken cruisers shrank in seconds. They were probably scared, Treya understood, but there was no sympathy in the thought.
She focused on the shuttle commanders trying who pretended her warship couldn’t destroy them. They must have been trained, probably gone through countless meetings and strategy sessions.
And none of it would mean anything against the power of this ship. Their engines roared to life as they tried to scream away, but they couldn’t escape. None of their ships had the speed, armor, or weapons to threaten a Poisoned Star.
A single Poisoned Star could leave the entire Directorate burnt ash, but Treya didn’t do that because the Foundation never gave her the command.
One thousand kilometers, six hundred, three hundred, and Treya watched the little squares. Each one could hold ten or twenty humans, soldiers of the United Terran Directorate, enemies of the Foundation. Heretics.
Treya targeted Leandra’s rail guns. Each of the cannons could spout ninety rounds per second. Across the ship, a hundred guns extended themselves from the hull, each armed with thousands of explosive rounds generated in Leandra’s automated foundries. Between thirty-two escape pods and three shuttles, Treya picked her targets. No remorse, she told herself.
They’re trying to call for help.
Let them, Treya said. It doesn’t matter. They were stupid to come into this system. They should know better. Treya didn’t hear the sound of her voice. As a pilot, she only spoke to Leandra and Indigo. They heard her thoughts. Voices were for humans. Trained by the Foundation, Treya became something different long ago.
As much as I like the compliment, you don’t think we could get outnumbered?
I think it doesn’t matter. That was true. Terrans had their cruisers, their carriers, their nukes, and even those hulking fortress ships. Even as one massive fleet, they would never have a chance against Leandra.
Between her hundreds of guns, thousands of missiles, unlimited energies and stocks of supplies, her regenerating hull, and skeletal armor, this living ship was large enough, fast enough, and strong enough to destroy their entire species. That wasn’t a boast, just reality.
You shouldn’t underestimate them.
Quit being such a wimp, chirped the third voice. Treya felt the corner of her mouth rise because that was always Indigo’s attitude. Leandra was the ship’s personality, but the bank of fighters and drones stored throughout her hull had a different mind. Protected between Leandra’s four wings and in dozens of storage bays, Indigo protected the Poisoned Star from enemy fighters and boarding parties.
Technically a swarm, she should have been scattered, insectoid and frightening. Instead, Indigo was one mind with a thousand bodies, always cheerful and eager to dance between stars and planets. We can take them, Indigo promised.
They’re humans. There’s nothing more dangerous than a desperate human. They come up with some really nasty stuff. Plagues, suicide bombers. You should always be careful around them. Leandra studied human history and understood their potential. One day they might come up with some new weapon, something capable of destroying a Poisoned Star.
I’m a human too, Treya said, Do you think I could defeat the Foundation? That idea felt like a paradox. The answer was supposed to be obvious. No. Nothing could defeat the Foundation. That’s what they were always told. Indigo and Leandra were programmed to know the Foundation was invincible. Treya’s handler made sure she’d remember the same fact for the rest of her life.
Nothing could defeat a Poisoned Star, the war machine for a species of scholars, artists, scientists, and philosophers. More importantly, Indigo, Treya, and Leandra all knew that attacking the Foundation would be suicide. No one survived against their might. Humans had been in space for centuries. Despite all of that experience, their weapons were still worthless against the armors and firepower brought by just one of the Foundation’s ships. Defying the Foundation meant death. For anyone.
Don’t even joke about that.
The girl makes a good point, Indigo said, laughing from the hundred and thirty-three fighters which made up her body. Humans don’t have anything. Those little boxes are just metal with a couple fusion generators and some pellet guns. Come on! The Foundation hasn’t used technology like that in centuries. They might as well throw feces at us.
Treya thought these words like a prayer. We are loyal to the Foundation. She had to say them or something bad might happen. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t need to make sense. That might have been another part of her training even if it came a few seconds late. Despite the shiver down her back, Treya added, Disobedience will not be tolerated. Her handler’s words.
Concentrating on the cloud of Terran escape pods, Treya heard the different calls for help. Most of them were coded, nothing but static to Leandra’s receivers. She could have tried to hack the messages but didn’t see the point. Then she heard the calls on standard frequencies too. These weren’t in codes or ciphers, just soldiers who were too scared to remember the procedures that were supposed to keep them alive.
“Contact!” shouted some kid, a young man Treya guessed. “Repeat! The Falcon and The Hunter are down. We’re coming. Repeat, we’re coming! Get ready! The enemy is here! They’re here!” He must’ve been alone, Treya figured. Otherwise, he wouldn’t let so much terror bleed into his cries for help. That’s what she thought as she locked the rail guns onto the pods and gave the thought to fire. She didn’t need to say anything.
Slivers of lights shot from Leandra’s cannons. It could have been a light show, Treya thought, remembering something from her childhood. Probing the memory, she didn’t find any feelings, no longing or regret, simply the images of red and blue circles of light in the night sky.
Bullets from the rail guns were all bright yellow while the pods burst into little spheres of orange. Puffs of flame disappeared into vacuum. Too small to burn for more than a second, the flames collapsed, and Treya didn’t hear any more distress calls.
Onto the planet, she ordered. There were probably scientists somewhere in the universe interested in the Caderis system. Choked with more than twenty planets, a hundred moons, an asteroid belt, and a big ball of some kind of gas, it was as diverse a system as any Treya had ever seen before. But there was just one little blue globe suitable for human habitation.
The Terrans would be there, so that’s where she had to go.
Weapons platforms, several cruisers, two carriers, and there are buildings on the surface, Leandra sent, her voice hushed as she focused on piercing the distance and atmosphere to see what the Terrans brought to this invasion.
Bring us in. Most direct path. She wanted to get this over with.