Short story: ‘Crimson’
Posted: June 13, 2014 Filed under: Short stories | Tags: short story, valentine's day 1 CommentI don’t often post short stories on here, but here’s one I wrote for The Midnight Type a few months ago, for Valentine’s Day. I don’t think it ever got shared there, and I figured Friday the Thirteenth was a suitable occasion to share it here. Because nothing says romance like Friday the Thirteenth, right?
Crimson
The sound of laughter chased Charlie into the girls’ bathroom, audible even over the thump-thump thump-thump of the pop tune blaring in the school hall.
The tiled room was empty. She skidded to a halt in front of the scuffed sink, teetering on unfamiliar heels. She’d spent six months saving for those heels, had been so proud of herself when she left her house after dinner, her parents waving goodbye with relieved smiles.
Charlie wasn’t proud anymore.
She turned the tap on with a savage twist and splashed cold water onto burning cheeks. When she looked in the mirror, droplets of water glittered like the tears aching in the back of her eyes would if she let them fall.
Her cheeks were the same crimson as her dress.
Voices approached the bathroom door. Biting her lip, Charlie ducked into a cubicle just as the outer door swung open.
“Someone left a tap on,” a voice said in tones of great disgust. Monica. “Honestly, people are so stupid. Don’t they know about the drought? What will the cows drink if we waste all the water?”
“Honestly,” another voice parroted. Monica’s offsider, Fiona.
Clicking heels—sounding much more stable than Charlie’s had—made their way over to the sink. The tap was turned off, and then there was the sound of a zip. A purse being opened.
Biting back a sigh, Charlie eased herself down onto the closed lid of the toilet and leaned her hot face on the cool wall of the cubicle, nose against the graffiti scribbles. If Monica was doing her makeup, it could take a while.
“Guess what I heard?” Fiona said, voice quivering with barely contained excitement.
“Uhh?” An open-mouthed reply.
Definitely doing her makeup. Charlie rolled her eyes, distracted for a moment by her contempt for the popular girls.
The popular girls she’d hoped she might join tonight. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. Her hands began twisting in the hem of her skirt, as though they had a mind of their own. Wringing the fabric like it was someone’s throat.
“Tyler invited Charlie to the dance.”
Twisting hands froze, tangled in fabric.
Charlie held her breath, clearly hearing a plastic compact snick closed.
“I heard. But you know why, right?” Monica’s voice also quivered, hers with glee. “So he could show her up in front of all his mates.”
“No way!”
“Uh huh. I heard them chanting ‘Charlotte the Harlot, dressed in scarlet’ just before I came in here. Why else would he ask her out, anyway?”
“Why else?” Fiona agreed.
The ringing in Charlie’s ears drowned out the rest of the girls’ conversation. Her mind dragged her back to the scene, still raw and bleeding in her memory. Tyler’s friends turning on her when she entered, looking for him across the crowded room. She’d thought he might defend her. He looked uncomfortable.
Surely he would defend her.
But he didn’t, and she’d fled—and if he hadn’t intended to set her up, wouldn’t he have defended her?
Wouldn’t he have picked her up at her house, met her parents, rather than suggesting she meet him at the school?
The slapping, slithering sound of leather on leather was louder than the ringing in her ears. Because it was in her mind. Goosebumps prickled along her arms: her blood had turned to ice, freezing her from the inside out.
“Let me deal with them for you.” A deep baritone. She’d heard it before.
“No,” she replied in a whisper, not knowing—or caring—whether Monica and Fiona were still in the bathroom. She stared down at her hands. They still clutched the crimson fabric. It wound around her white knuckles as though she might fall if she let go. Fall forever. “You can’t.”
“No, you can’t,” the voice replied, soft with concern. The sort of concern she’d wished for from Tyler, only minutes before. Then the voice hardened. “But I can.”
“What will you do?”
“What is necessary.” Her hands unclenched, smoothing the crumpled fabric mechanically. “Sleep now.”
And she did. As she always did.
***
When Charlie came back to herself, she was walking home, striding confidently in those hated new heels. Her hair reeked of smoke—not cigarette smoke but the heavy, greasy smoke of a house fire.
She slipped back into her body like a hand into a glove still warm from another’s use. Her steps stumbled, ankle twisting, and she caught herself on a light pole.
Her hands, splayed against the cool metal, were wound around with crimson. Not fabric, this time.
“What have you done?” she gasped.
“What was necessary,” the baritone voice replied with satisfaction. “I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Charlie began to weep.
Cover reveal: ‘Tethered’ by Pippa Jay
Posted: June 13, 2014 Filed under: On Books | Tags: book covers, sci-fi 1 CommentShe can kill with a kiss. But can assassin Tyree also heal one man’s grief, and bring peace to a galaxy threatened by war?
For Tyree of the Su, being an assassin isn’t simply something she was trained for. It’s the sole reason for her existence. A genetically enhanced clone—one of many in Refuge—she’s about to learn her secluded lifestyle, and that of all her kind, is under threat by a race capable of neutralizing their special talents to leave them defenseless.
For Zander D’joren, being a diplomat has not only cost him his appearance, but also the love of his life. Scarred, grieving, he must nonetheless continue in his role as co-delegate to the fearsome Tier-vane or risk a conflict that could only end one way.
Now both of them need to keep each other alive and maintain a perilous deception long enough to renegotiate the treaty with the Tier-vane, or throw their people into a war that could wipe out Terrans and Inc-Su alike. But there’s more at stake than humanity, whether true or modified. Can the love growing between them save them both? Or merely hasten their destruction?
A science fiction romance novella, coming from Breathless Press 25th July.
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Excerpt
A thrill of excitement shivered down her spine as she backed away a few steps with Zander following. He shrugged off his formal outer robes, and for the first time she could appreciate the broad expanse of his chest, the close-fitting fabric stretched over well-defined muscles. It appeared he hadn’t allowed his physique to slacken, despite leaving the Galactic Commission.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Zander spread his hands in an open gesture to say that he was.
So why is he just standing there like a defunct Manikin instead of poised to fight?
Tyree took her combat position and Zander matched her, just as the Manikin had done. She’d never fought a human in combat practice before. This should be interesting.
She sprang forward and aimed two rapid punches at his face. Zander evaded both with a speed and grace totally out of proportion to his bulk. Her third he blocked with little effort, and she stepped back to reassess her strategy. But only for an instant.
A quick step forward and she lashed upward with her foot, snapping his head back. Zander staggered but didn’t fall. Her second kick failed as he grabbed her ankle and jerked her off balance. She twisted as she dropped and caught him hard in the knee. Zander collapsed. Both rolled aside, and then jumped up to face each other again.
Not bad.
Tyree bit back a laugh as they exchanged blows, each faster than the last. Zander blocked or evaded most, but not all. His skill almost matched hers, yet his defenses were just a fraction too slow. Each move she made tested his reach, his reflexes and his stamina until she could sense him struggling a little.
Time for the kill.
She floored him with a kick to the chest, the full weight of her augmented density behind it, but as she moved in to finish the fight he dove into her. Tyree landed on her back hard enough to drive the breath from her lungs.
Zander had her pinned to the ground. She bucked but couldn’t shift him. The triumphant smile on his face sent rage blazing through her gut. With hardly a whisper, she Misted out and went through him. Golden warmth filled her for a second before she pulled free. Zander pushed to his feet and spun to meet her, but she cranked up her molecular density and punched him hard in the chest. He collapsed, gasping and coughing. In one fluid movement she sat astride him at full density, and the air whumphed out of his lungs. She pinioned his arms with her hands, her face hovering mere centimeters above his.
As her breathing slowed to normal, a huge grin split her face. She’d made a vow to herself to jump him, and she’d done it. Perhaps it was childish, but it warmed her heart.
“Your…reputation…is well deserved,” he gasped.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she complimented him. He’d fought well, but perhaps not quite with the determination—and certainly not the desperation—of most opponents she’d faced. “For a human.”
“Thank you. Perhaps we could try this again tomorrow?”
Tyree laughed. As much as he could irritate the hell out of her, he was equally amusing. “If you want to spend most of your morning on the floor…”
He gazed up at her with that easy smile, making no effort to struggle. Most humans, without the influence of her pheromones and the distraction of her naked body writhing above theirs, would not have been so trusting. So compliant. She found herself staring at his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him, without the use of her talents? Would it be as satisfying? As sensual? The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath hers, sent heat spiraling through her abdomen.
“Perhaps you could let me up now?” His words jerked her from such musings. What the hell was she thinking?
About Pippa
After spending twelve years working as an Analytical Chemist in a Metals and Minerals laboratory, Pippa Jay is now a stay-at-home mum who writes scifi and the supernatural. Somewhere along the way a touch of romance crept into her work and refused to leave. In between torturing her plethora of characters, she spends the odd free moment playing guitar very badly, punishing herself with freestyle street dance, and studying the Dark Side of the Force. Although happily settled in the historical town of Colchester in the UK with her husband of 21 years and three little monsters, she continues to roam the rest of the Universe in her head.
Pippa Jay is a dedicated member of the Science Fiction Romance Brigade, blogging at Spacefreighters Lounge, Adventures in Scifi, and Romancing the Genres. Her works include a YA science fiction novel—Gethyon—published through BURST (Champagne Books), two self-published short stories (Terms & Conditions Apply and The Bones of the Sea), and she’s one of eight authors included in a science fiction romance anthology—Tales from the SFR Brigade. She’s also a double SFR Galaxy Award winner, been a finalist in the Heart of Denver RWA Aspen Gold Contest (3rd place), and the GCC RWA Silken Sands Star Awards (2nd place).
You can stalk her at her website http://pippajay.co.uk, or at her blog http://pippajay.blogspot.co.uk, but without doubt her favorite place to hang around and chat is on Twitter as @pippajaygreen.
Review: ‘The Cormorant’ by Chuck Wendig
Posted: June 12, 2014 Filed under: Reviews | Tags: Chuck Wendig, reviews, urban fantasy Leave a comment
Miriam is on the road again, having transitioned from “thief” to “killer”.
Hired by a wealthy businessman, she heads down to Florida to practice the one thing she’s good at, but in her vision she sees him die by another’s hand and on the wall written in blood is a message just for Miriam.
She’s expected…
The Cormorant is the third book in the Miriam Black series, and if you’ve read the first two you’ve got a pretty good idea of what you’re getting into. If you haven’t, and you like sweary, gory, action-driven urban fantasy, it’s worth going back and starting with Blackbirds, if only because it gives you some context for the events in this book. (For example, although Miriam thinks about Louis a lot in The Cormorant, he doesn’t actually make an appearance—at least, not directly.)
This series is unusual in so many ways. For a start, it’s written in the third person present tense. As a style, it really seems to work for action-based books like The Hunger Games. And this. But I did have to switch mental gears, at least at first, to get into it.
The storytelling is gory enough to make any splatter film director proud. At the start of the series Miriam is already violent—she’s homeless and cursed, so who wouldn’t be? By The Cormorant, as the blurb indicates, she’s turned into a sometime murderer as well. Miriam is not a nice girl. She drinks, chain-smokes and has some of the worst language I’ve ever seen in a work of fiction. (There’s also sex. But that bothers me less than people spitting bloody wads of spit at each other. Because ew!)
In Miriam’s defence, though, she’s been screwed by the nastiest urban fantasy superpower yet: if she touches someone, skin-to-skin, she knows when they’re going to die. We’re not just talking about a polite letter from Fate, either; Miriam sees their death in full surround sound HD, with in-built stink and pain. Miriam doesn’t see death. She experiences it. Over and over again.
I’d swear too. Like a sailor.
She definitely qualifies for a kickass leading lady, though. She knows how to fight, and she’s not afraid to fight back—like a feral cat with a pocket knife and, sometimes, a gun. Or her teeth, or forehead, or elbow. I think she’d fight with her pinkie given half the chance and presented with a deserving target.
Over the course of the series, Miriam learns how to mess with fate to save lives, and the plot of The Cormorant is, in a nutshell, Fate getting angry and hitting back. I won’t go into any more detail than that, because spoilers. However, writing a book that involves visions of the future, some of which are largely immutable, presents certain challenges for an author: challenges that Wendig handles with skill. It’s a joy to read.
Also, the end of the book provides an interesting ray of hope for Miriam. I can’t wait to see what happens next!
This Writer’s Space: Veronica Bartles
Posted: June 11, 2014 Filed under: On writing | Tags: this writer's space, young adult 1 Comment
Today’s guest is Veronica Bartles, whose debut, Twelve Steps, I reviewed earlier this year. It’s a fun story about sibling rivalry. Take it away, Veronica!
Where I Write
My writing space isn’t confined to just one area. We live in military housing, and our house is too small for me to have an office space of my very own. And even though I’m sometimes totally jealous of my writing friends who have desks and offices of their own, I think it’s probably better this way. I’m less creative when I try to write in the same spot every day, so I bounce between several writing spots. Sometimes, I curl up on the comfy couch in the living room with my notebook and story pencils or my laptop.
Sometimes, I relax in my massage chair in the corner of my bedroom. (This is where I like to go when I’m stuck on an idea. The massage helps me to relax enough to track down the plot bunnies hiding in the back of my mind.)
My favorite writing space in my house is my treadmill desk. I’ve discovered that I can’t write first drafts on the treadmill, because I get so involved in the creative process that I forget where I am, and I’m likely to fall off. But I love to work on edits and revisions on the treadmill. With my blood pumping, my mind is more alert, and I feel like it’s easier to see the problems and issues that need fixing.
At least a few times a week, I also like to pack up my notebook and pencil (or my laptop, if I’m revising) and go to the botanic gardens, the library, a park, or a restaurant for a change of pace.
Where I’m Inspired
I get my inspiration pretty much anywhere. (This is why my writing space is so mobile.) But the best inspiration usually hits when I’m in a place where I can shut down my mental to-do list and let my mind wander into the creative zone. I try to go worship at the LDS Temple each week, because it’s so peaceful there, and I can almost always shut off my crazy brain while I’m there.
To Be Read
My TBR list is huge, and it’s growing every single day. This picture is just a part of my list – the print books that I have on my shelves right now that I’m dying to read right away. My lists on my Kindle and Nook are almost as long, and then of course there are the fabulous, pre-published manuscripts I often get to read. I’m glad I’m a fast reader, because even though I often read several books each week, my TBR list grows twice as fast as I can read. I’ll never catch up, but at least I never have to search for something new to read. I always have several more options waiting in the wings when I finish a book and get ready for the next adventure.
About Twelve Steps
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Sixteen-year-old Andi is tired of being a second-class sibling to perfect sister Laina. The only thing Andi’s sure she has going for her is her awesome hair. And even that is eclipsed by Laina’s perfect everything else.
When Andi’s crush asks her to fix him up with Laina, Andi decides enough is enough, and devises a twelve-step program to wrangle the spotlight away from Laina and get the guy.
Step 1: Admit she’s powerless to change her perfect sister, and accept that her life really, really sucks.
Step 4: Make a list of her good qualities. She MUST have more than just great hair, right?
Step 7: Demand attention for more than just the way she screws things up.
When a stolen kiss from her crush ends in disaster, Andi realizes that her twelve-step program isn’t working. Her prince isn’t as charming as she’d hoped, and the spotlight she’s been trying to steal isn’t the one she wants.
As Laina’s flawless façade begins to crumble, the sisters work together to find a spotlight big enough for both to shine.
About Veronica
As the second of eight children and the mother of four, Veronica Bartles is no stranger to the ups and downs of sibling relationships. (She was sandwiched between the gorgeous-and-insanely-popular older sister and the too-adorable-for-words younger sister.) She uses this insight to write stories about siblings who mostly love each other, even while they’re driving one another crazy. When she isn’t writing or getting lost in the pages of her newest favorite book, Veronica enjoys knitting fabulous bags and jewelry out of recycled plastic bags and old VHS tapes, sky diving (though she hasn’t actually tried that yet), and inventing the world’s most delectable cookie recipes. TWELVE STEPS is Veronica Bartles’s first novel.
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Top Ten Tuesday: My Favourite Books of 2014 (So Far)
Posted: June 10, 2014 Filed under: On Books | Tags: top ten tuesday 4 Comments
Today’s Top Ten Tuesday theme is the ten best books I’ve read so far this year. This is a hard one, you guys, like they’re asking me to choose between my children. (Of course, in reality I only have one child, but that’s NOT THE POINT!)
So, grudgingly, here they are — listed in alphabetical order. I mention this because it’s hard to make this list as it is; asking me to prioritise it internally is just too cruel.
Now, two of these books are not currently available, due to the collapse of a certain, lame small press earlier in the year. I realise this sucks for you, because they are awesome — but I fully intend to shout from the rooftops when they come back to us. And one of them is already on the way.
Cinder by Marissa Meyer. Take Cinderella, stick her in a future Earth and make her a second-class cyborg. Stir in some political intrigue, a terrible plague and a handsome prince, and I’m so there! Review.
Forget Me Not by Stacey Nash. The romance between Mae and Jax is well-developed and, even though I’m firmly Team Will (Mae’s best friend), by the end I thought Mae and Jax were a cute and above all realistic couple. Review. (Forget Me Not is scheduled for re-release by Harper Collins later this year. Oh my frickin’ god!)
Haze by Paula Weston. This is The Rephaim #2. I could just write IT’S AWESOME GO BUY IT RIGHT NOW in all caps and then put in some animated gifs of people squeeing all over the place, but that’s not particularly coherent. I gather there’s at least one more book in the series, maybe two. Like Shadows, Haze has an ending that has equal parts closure and setup for the next book. I MUST HAVE IT NOW! Review.
Immagica by K. A. Last. With this book’s main character, Rosaline, being fifteen, I thought maybe I’d be a little old for the story. I should have remembered I loved Harry Potter back when he was a scruffy twelve-year-old. Review.
In Stone by Louise D. Gornall. Beau’s voice shines from the beginning. Even crying over her broken heart in the park, her sass came through. I wanted to take her home, make her a hot chocolate and watch chick flicks with her. Which is saying a lot, because I NEVER watch chick flicks. Review. (In Stone has been re-released with a pretty new cover.)
Running Home by Julie Hutchings. This book is a bit like riding a roller coaster. It starts clicking along the track, and there’s a slow build … and then you get to the top of the first incline and it’s all waaaaaah! The particular vampire mythology is also something I haven’t seen before, which is saying something given how many vampire books are on the market. Review.
Sleeper by S. M. Johnston. Sleeper sits somewhere between YA and NA; the main character, Mischa, is eighteen and about to start university, but the themes sit closer to the more-typical YA fare of self-discovery. And while there’s a lot of kissing there’s no graphic detail in here that might make some teens (or parents of teens) uncomfortable. Review. (Sleeper is currently unavailable. 😦 )
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. Some of the moments in Stars are hysterically funny. I love the banter between Hazel, Augustus and Isaac. It’s often classic gallows humour, and although some people may find it shocking, if anyone is entitled to it, it’s those three teens, all with cancer that has cost them big time. When it’s not gallows humour, it’s still clever and wry. Review.
The Problem With Crazy by Lauren K. McKellar. For me to pick up a contemp, it has to be special. The Problem With Crazy blew me away. I stayed up till after midnight — on a work night, no less — thinking “just one more chapter”. Review.
Wicked After Midnight by Delilah S. Dawson. This is Blud #3. I love this series. Love love love. The world, a sort of medieval parallel to modern day Earth, is rich and dark and has clockworks and magic in equal measure. Plus Dawson’s love interests in each book are smoking hot, strong, dangerous to their enemies and respectful of their leading ladies (which is one of the reasons they are smoking hot, in my book!). Review.
Five authors I’d love to invite to dinner
Posted: June 9, 2014 Filed under: On Books | Tags: Chuck Wendig, delilah s. dawson 4 CommentsI’m big on making lists at the moment (I’m writing this straight after scheduling a Top Ten Tuesday post), and after reading Chuck Wendig’s excellent post in the wake of the Santa Barbara shooting, I got to thinking about how, as well as being an excellent writer he seems to be a stand up bloke, and how I’d like to buy him a beer or something.
I don’t drink beer, but I can buy it for others.
So, in that vein, here’s my list of the five authors I’d have for dinner. As in invite over to my house, not eat. Or — more likely — take out to dinner at a nice restaurant somewhere, because I can’t cook that well and I wouldn’t want to shame myself. Or poison anyone.
I’m restricting myself to authors I’m not friends with, because otherwise this would be a much longer list. But probably a much wilder party! (Stacey, Lauren, I’m looking at you! 😉 )
Chuck Wendig. For the above reasons, and also because he’s funny. I like a man that can make me laugh and impart excellent writing advice at the same time.
J. K. Rowling. Because the world of Harry Potter is so clever and complex, and I’d love to engage with someone who can achieve such an epic level of world-building. Also because she was a single mother when she wrote it, and we could bond over that. Right? Right?
Stephen King. I’d probably be too terrified to talk to him, because — whatever you think of genre fiction in general and horror specifically — this man is a writing genius. (For the record, I love it but am now scared of clowns. Seriously.) But maybe I could bask in his reflected glory. If I did speak, I’d have to be careful not to utter any adverbs.
Delilah S. Dawson. As well as writing kick-ass steampunk fantasy romance, Delilah is funny and a geek. She’s such a geek she writes geekrotica, WHICH IS TOTALLY HOT YES I MAY HAVE READ IT SHUT UP! (The safe word is “wookiee”.)
Anne McCaffrey. Anne is my first writing love. We could have bubbly pie for dessert. Unfortunately, unless I get a TARDIS to organise this shindig, Anne is no longer available. 😦
I’d also like to add Richard Castle, but apparently he’s not real. *huffs*
Who would you invite to your very own author dinner?
He looks pretty lickable real to me.
Interview: C.J. Burright, urban fantasy author
Posted: June 7, 2014 Filed under: On Books | Tags: Interview, urban fantasy 2 CommentsToday I’m interviewing CJ Burright. Her debut novel, Wonderfully Wicked, came out on 13 May!
Wonderfully Wicked has a couple of new types of supernatural “beastie”, dreamcasters and V’alkara. Can you tell us about them?
Sure! Dreamcasters are women whose nightmares leak and come to life. Not the best qualities to encourage a lasting relationship. The V’alkara are men who invade dreams and feed on nightmares. They hunt dreamcasters, so falling for a target creates a difficult situation. What good love story doesn’t have complications, right?
Where did the inspiration come from?
The inspiration emerged from my fascination with dreams. Dreams have always fascinated me, and I wanted to write something in the paranormal romance genre beyond what’s already out there, so combining the two just clicked for me. Gives me a reason to quench my curiosity about dreams and write paranormal/fantasy–a win-win!
Where is the story set? Why did you choose it?
The main setting is deep in the forest of the Oregon Cascades. I’m an Oregonian, and I’ve always loved the woods. Plus, what better location for the secret V’alkara headquarters? But Lydon and Kalila don’t stay there long.
Are you planning a sequel?
Yes! The rough draft of Beautifully Burned, Daxen’s tale, is almost done. The last few chapters are outlined, which is a shocker for me. I’m a total pantser, but the ending hit me while running on the treadmill, so I scribbled it down, still sweaty. I love it when inspiration strikes!
If you were stuck on a desert island with any of your characters, which would you choose and why?
I would choose Lydon because he could change form and sweep us away, but if we’re truly struck…I’d have to choose Melanie. At least she’d be tons of fun while we’re dying of starvation or thirst.
Which writer most inspires you? How come?
Unfair question, Cassandra (Cass: Sorry!). Too many! But if you’re forcing me to choose only one, I’d have to say Anne Bishop. I love her tormented characters and unique, dark worlds. She’s made my heart hurt more than once, and that’s not easy to do.
What is your:
* favourite colour? Black, deep purple, red, and royal blue–equally. 🙂
* favourite drink? Mochas…wine…and more mochas.
* favourite item of clothing? A bra always comes in handy, keeps the girls in check.
* favourite time of the day? Afternoon until bedtime. Pretty much any time other than mornings. Ugh.
* favourite punctuation mark? The comma. I’ve heard they save lives. Or cause embarrassment. Either way, they’ve got some power going on.
Thanks so much for having me on your blog! 🙂
A dreamcaster with the ability to channel creatures from her nightmares, headstrong and cynical Kalila Montgomery longs for a peaceful, picket-fence life… until the man literally of her dreams kidnaps her.
Survival quickly becomes her number one goal, yet a growing attraction to the man in her nightmares is impossible to ignore. While she fears he will kill her, other, more terrifying enemies surround her, and Kalila succumbs to his scheme to escape. She may be his one hope for freedom…
A deadly combination of power, cunning, and cold-hearted charm, Lydon v’al Endrian fears nothing. Feels nothing. Chained to a brotherhood of men with the supernatural ability to invade dreams, he hunts dreamcasters to be harvested for their dreams and killed. His target: Kalila Montgomery. But Kalila awakens an undeniable dark desire and a longing for a freedom long-lost.
To gain everything he craves, Lydon must seduce Kalila before his plot is discovered… a hopeless challenge which, if failed, will earn him a death-sentence. Caught up in a dangerous world of secrets and obsession, doubt and betrayal, Kalila and Lydon face the nightmare of their lives, where love will either deliver them—or destroy them both.
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About the Author
CJ blames her love for reading and all things Medieval on her father, who plied her often with fantasy novels ranging from Sir Lloyd Alexander to Piers Anthony. Her love for romance, however, lies completely at the feet of her best friend Michelle, who dared to give her a romance novel for her birthday. She smiled, politely said thank you, and tossed it in the corner, where it gathered dust. In a moment of desperation, when only the revolting romance remained in her almost-always toppling stack of awaiting books, she sucked it up and read the romance. Doomed.
She started writing fantasy and paranormal romance for the cathartic experience, decided she liked it, and after two overlong, horribly written novels joined RWA and the Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal special interest chapter. Best classes and critique groups ever. Double doomed. Now, writing is a necessity, not just a hobby.
In her spare time, when she’s not writing or reading or actually working, CJ might be found in the dojang (4th Dan Black Belt, baby), rooting on the Mariners (who will some day win the World Series), working out (P90X, anyone?), gardening (a little dirt never hurt anyone), or playing Music of the Night on the piano (without mask or cape). She lives in Oregon with her fabulous husband and daughter. Not to mention her minions, a herd of cats.
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Excerpt and giveaway: ‘Gypsy’ by Trisha Leigh
Posted: June 6, 2014 Filed under: On Books | Tags: urban fantasy 1 Comment
Gypsy (The Cavy Files #1)
by Trisha Leigh
Release Date: 13 May 2014
378 pages
Inconsequential: not important or significant.
Synonyms: insignificant, unimportant, nonessential, irrelevant
In the world of genetic mutation, Gypsy’s talent of knowing a person’s age of death is considered a failure. Her peers, the other Cavies, have powers that range from curdling a blood still in the vein to being able to overhear a conversation taking place three miles away, but when they’re taken from the sanctuary where they grew up and forced into the real world, Gypsy, with her all-but-invisible gift, is the one with the advantage.The only one who’s safe, if the world finds out what they can do.
When the Cavies are attacked and inoculated with an unidentified virus, that illusion is shattered. Whatever was attached to the virus causes their abilities to change. Grow. In some cases, to escape their control.
Gypsy dreamed of normal high school, normal friends, a normal life, for years. Instead, the Cavies are sucked under a sea of government intrigue, weaponized genetic mutation, and crushing secrets that will reframe everything they’ve ever been told about how their “talents” came to be in the first place.
When they find out one of their own has been appropriated by the government, mistreated and forced to run dangerous missions, their desire for information becomes a pressing need. With only a series of guesses about their origins, the path to the truth becomes quickly littered with friends, enemies, and in the end, the Cavies ability to trust anyone at all.
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Excerpt
The library is one of the bigger rooms in the house, converted from what used to be the upstairs parlor. The Professor looks out a window that overlooks the back lawn. Shelves, sagging with dusty books, cover every inch of the light blue, fifteen-foot walls. The morning sunlight still lingers around the front of the house, making this space dim, but motes of dust twirl and waltz like members of a royal court on the pale, reaching beams.
All at once, happiness floods my bloodstream, as though someone smacks good cheer into my chest cavity through my shoulder blades. The strange desire to burst into song hums along my nerve endings, as though I’m a Disney princess summoning her bird and varmint attendants at the window. It takes serious concentration to bite back the urge.
The abrupt change in mood announces another Cavy’s presence, but as hard as I try to glare at Pollyanna, my mouth refuses to cooperate. Her mutation, a reverse empath alternation that allows her disposition to affect the moods of people in close proximity, is more…invasive than most. Losing control of my own mind never fails to make me feel icky.
And given her insistence on cynicism and anger, she’s not aptly named. Not at all.
“Feeling good, Gyspy?” She shakes out her long, blond hair and pins me with china-blue eyes. The faux-happy shroud crawling from her to me dissolves and my smile finally falls away. Polly nods. “That’s better. You look weird when you smile.”
“Pollyanna, we have spoken at length about the perils of using your gifts on your fellow Cavies.” The Professor’s patient, tired voice reprimands the youngest of his students, if only by several months.
The Philosopher, who runs Darley, took us in before we were three months old, and we all arrived between sixteen and seventeen years ago.
“Sorry, sir.”
She’s not sorry, but his chastisement and her apology are part of our daily routine. Of all the kids here, Pollyanna is my least favorite. She’s everyone’s least favorite, and even though she knows it she doesn’t change. I guess she doesn’t care.
“Sorry for what? Fucking with people again?” The voice bleeds out of thin air before Haint shimmers into view around it, face first. She leans against one of the bookcases once her shoulder appears, examining her nails as she waits for her daily reprimand.
The Professor doesn’t disappoint. “Language, dear.”
He says nothing to me, not even hello, nor does he issue a warning to Haint about using her ability to go invisible. It’s not dangerous. Pollyanna could make any one of us walk straight off a cliff if she felt particularly suicidal that day.
The twins Athena and Goose arrive together, a tornado of rough-housing elbows and flashes of reddish hair, loosing half a shelf of books onto the floor and toppling an end table before getting themselves under control. The Professor ignores them, having long ago resigned himself to their antics.
We’re all here now, at least those who are expected. Mole is still enduring his weekly brain prodding and so is Reaper. They’re our lethal Cavies, and are kept for testing more often and for longer than the rest of us. We’re categorized according to our level of usefulness, the details of our mutations and abilities listed in records the Philosopher hopes might convince the government we could be potential assets as opposed to threats.
Three Operationals, two Substantials, one Developmental, three Unstables, and one Inconsequential. That’s me. The one who will never be an asset to anyone but can’t be locked away and forgotten like an Unstable, either. They don’t know what to do with me, so I shuffle along with the group.
“Everyone sit down, please.”
The Professor’s command sounds more like a genteel request, and we drop into a circle of cross-legged teenagers on the oval Oriental rug that smothers the center of the room. He paces behind us, passing binder-clipped pages into our waiting hands.
I grab mine, excited as the title filters through my eyes and into my brain. It’s a thesis, written by the Scientist back in the 1960s: Genetic Mutation and the Human Brain.
He died before any of us were born but his thoughts and experiments, his studies, help the scientists at Darley Hall figure out what might have caused the mutations that resulted in our “gifts.” Maybe one day they’ll figure out how to switch off those screwy genes and I can touch another person without at least one layer in between us. Without the protection, touching someone means seeing a number in my mind.
The age the other person is going to die.
My “talent” is creepy at best, totally useless at worst, and being able to get rid of it has been a hidden desire for the whole of my life.
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About the Author
Trisha Leigh is a product of the Midwest, which means it’s pop, not soda, garage sales, not tag sales, and you guys as opposed to y’all. Most of the time. She’s been writing seriously for five years now, and has published 4 young adult novels and 4 new adult novels (under her pen name Lyla Payne). Her favorite things, in no particular order, include: reading, Game of Thrones, Hershey’s kisses, reading, her dogs (Yoda and Jilly), summer, movies, reading, Jude Law, coffee, and rewatching WB series from the 90’s–00’s.
Her family is made up of farmers and/or almost rock stars from Iowa, people who numerous, loud, full of love, and the kind of people that make the world better. Trisha tries her best to honor them, and the lessons they’ve taught, through characters and stories—made up, of course, but true enough in their way.
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Interview: Delilah S. Dawson, author
Posted: June 5, 2014 Filed under: On Books, On writing | Tags: aussie-owned, delilah s. dawson, geekery, interviews, steampunk, young adult Leave a commentYOU GUYS! Remember how I reviewed Wicked After Midnight by Delilah S. Dawson last week? Well, on Tuesday I got to interview Delilah herself over at Aussie Owned and Read. I’m pretty excited! 🙂
Today I’m thrilled to be interviewing one of my favourite authors, geek queen and Lady of the Twitters, Delilah S. Dawson.
After writing some of my favourite sizzling steampunk fantasy in the Blud series, you’re venturing into young adult with Servants of the Storm. You’ve also written middle grade, and erotica. Is making the shift between age brackets/markets difficult?
Not for writing, but the promo is definitely challenging! Just when I learned how to reach steampunk and romance readers, now I have to figure out how to get my Young Adult books to teens. I move pretty smoothly between writing projects thanks to compartmentalisation and playlists. I make a playlist for each book and listen to it while writing, editing, and cogitating, so as long as I’m listening to that music, I’m in that book’s world. Servants of the Storm was written to Saturnalia by The Gutter Twins…
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Guest post: Worldbuilding, by Tessa Gratton
Posted: June 5, 2014 Filed under: On writing | Tags: guest post, urban fantasy, writing Leave a commentToday’s guest post is by Tessa Gratton, whose book The Strange Maid comes out next week. This one sounds amazing, you guys; I’ll include the blurb below her post so you can see what I mean!
Take it away, Tessa!
Here is my first secret of world building: everything grows out of world.
If world, character, and plot are a pyramid, world is the wide base, character the slender middle, and plot the tip top. Your world is the history, culture, family values, politics, laws, etc, and characters cannot exist without interacting with those things, because people may be born with certain inherent qualities, but we are also products of culture and family and community. What your character believes and how she dresses MUST be in response to the world around her in one way or another. And plot is dictated by what your character WANTS. What does she desire? How will she survive?
World begets character, character begets plot.
That is the only ultimate truth of writing I believe in.
You CAN reverse-engineer the pyramid, if you are a plotter, but to readers, it must seem as though world à character à plot or they’ll begin questioning everything.
Sometimes as writers we think of characters first, or initially are inspired by a plot point, and so world building requires some backtracking. But with the United States of Asgard series, the process followed my pyramid method smoothly (which was a relief, since almost nothing else went smoothly!).
I thought of the world first, when I realized about 9 years ago that the political discourse of my country was engaged firmly in warrior culture – and at the time I was studying Viking and Anglo-Saxon warrior culture. What if I combined the two into a modern US founded by Vikings and their powerful, selfish gods?
I spent nearly four years playing with the idea of the world itself before I found my characters for the first book, THE LOST SUN. I read about history and politics, jotting down notes about how this fusion education system might work, how the branches of government would differ and how they’d be the same. I thought about each of the prominent gods and how they could be used as tools to reflect the themes of war and politics and religion that I wanted to write about. I made notes about the sort of teenagers might be most compelling as heroes: which is how I found my heroes Soren and Astrid. I wanted a teen berserker and a teen prophetess, both modernized versions of the most fascinating aspects of human–god interactions I found in the old Norse mythology.
My plot came from a fusion of world and character desires: 1) Baldur the Beautiful I knew was a god of hope and light, and the most poignant symbol of the fusion of old religion and modern celebrity culture. He is a dying god, literally dying in the fall and resurrecting in the spring, and all of it caught on television cameras. 2) Soren and Astrid both struggled with faith, even in a world where gods are obviously real, and they both needed a quest to find themselves and their destinies. What better quest than a road trip to find a dying god who didn’t rise?
So that’s what I mean by world begets character begets plot.
And of course with the second and third books, the pattern remained the same, though to a certain extent I had some plot ready and waiting because of happenings from the first book. But I knew that in book 2 I wanted to write about a teenaged Valkyrie, and her plot grew from that, and why she was a Valkyrie grew from the world. Valkyrie are connected to Odin Alfather and Freya the Witch, and so I needed to surround Signy with war, madness, poetry, and prophecy, the things those gods represent. I needed to delve into the Valkyrie’s Council and how they relate to Congress and the president and the media, and find those dark corners where politics and media culture connect to madness and poetry and prophecy. It was hard, and fascinating, and in the end worth-while because I think Signy is the most “New Asgardian” of any of the characters I’ve created for the series. There is no real-world correlation for her, I think, an idea that both excites and terrifies me.
As someone who loves world building and admires those writers who do it spectacularly, I hope I can in the future say that about all my characters, because that’s the point of world building: making a place so real, so layered and believable that it’s impossible for readers to divorce a character from their world.
About The Strange Maid
Fans of Neil Gaiman, Holly Black, and Maggie Stiefvater will embrace the richly drawn, Norse-influenced alternate world of the United States of Asgard, where cell phones, rock bands, and evangelical preachers coexist with dragon slaying, rune casting, and sword training in schools. Where the president runs the country alongside a council of Valkyries, gods walk the red carpet with Hollywood starlets, and the U.S. military has a special battalion dedicated to eradicating Rocky Mountain trolls.
Signy Valborn was seven years old when she climbed the New World Tree and met Odin Alfather, who declared that if she could solve a single riddle, he would make her one of his Valkyrie. For ten years Signy has trained in the arts of war, politics, and leadership, never dreaming that a Greater Mountain Troll might hold the answer to the riddle, but that’s exactly what Ned the Spiritless promises her. A mysterious troll hunter who talks in riddles and ancient poetry, Ned is a hard man to trust. Unfortunately, Signy is running out of time. Accompanied by an outcast berserker named Soren Bearstar, she and Ned take off across the ice sheets of Canadia to hunt the mother of trolls and claim Signy’s destiny.
About Tessa
Cassandra Page 