The year is 2522. Anna is a Remnant—a secret Christian in a world that has banned any form of religion. She is also an astro-geologist working with her Robot, named Z, for the Planetary Science Commission. The PSC has worked for 200 years to find alien life on another planet, and finally, after two centuries, a primitive lifeform has been discovered. Faced with the reality of evolved primitives on a forested moon, Anna begins to question all she has ever believed. Anna and Z travel to the newly-discovered moon in search of answers, but a terrible accident leaves them stranded. Faced with dangerous natives and unfamiliar surroundings, Anna and Z stumble upon a conspiracy that has universal implications. Will Anna discover the truth about the moon and its inhabitants?
Pre-Order link: https://www.amazon.com/Remnant-Daniel-Peyton-ebook/dp/B07SPCXCG8
Australian author, RL Andrew recently released her novel A Lunatic’s Guide To Interplanetary Relationships!
I have the privilege of following her on Facebook, as friends, and in light of her recent release have asked to host her on the blog!
Here is the first chapter of her book. Links you can find her at are:
Instead of finding a toaster in the pantry, possible lunatic Earthling Shayne James, is sucked into a wormhole and dumped across the galaxy at the feet of Annu – a man looking for his past. Desperate for answers Shayne and Annu discover they’re linked to the ancient Annunaki, and the only way for Shayne to return home is to succeed in an near impossible ascension ritual and defeat an evil God. Despite all the danger, what Shayne doesn’t realise is that by the time she can go home, will she still want to or is it all in her head?
Chapter 1: Crazy Like a Falling Coconut
Ardrossan, Adelaide, South Australia, Australia, Earth
How did I, Shayne James, a Demi-Goddess and daughter of the Great God Ki, end up in a nut house? It’s God damned ridiculous. Literally. I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t do another night in this stupid place.
Shayne shook the gate; her fingers ached and rust embedded beneath her nails. “What kind of screwed up torture is this? Haven’t I suffered enough?”
She surveyed the yard for Geoffrey from Ward 3, her one true fan, believer and stalker. Where he went, hospital staff followed. Yard all clear, Shayne counted on her fingers. “How many weeks have I spent in this shit hole?”
2 or 3? Fuck. I don’t know.
The medication they’d thrust into her made time a slippery worm difficult to grasp. The morning’s pills jiggled next to her phone in Shayne’s pocket. She’d hide them with the others. The few missed days cleared her brain and the memories returned. The instant their effects wore off, Shayne realised the governmental nightmare with its hard beds, terrible food, and bad TV, interfered with her true destiny on another planet.
Shayne kicked the metal lock. Pain shot through her foot. “Shit. Crap.”
She hopped in a circle and cursed dodgy hips connected to short legs. The bastards prevented her climb up the Wistingera hedge beside the gate without assistance, and she couldn’t find anyone to hold her steady without grabbing her arse.
Can’t get out the gate, can’t break the fence, can’t climb the hedge. I’ve tried all the doors. Which leaves what exactly?
Shayne breathed in crazy free air and ran through other options. “Oh fuck it. I can’t think of any. What to do, what to do?”
Her shoulders drooped; Shayne’s freedom remained as distant as Orion.
Even if I did escape, what then? How do I get home and back to Orion? Why can’t a wormhole just appear right here? Huh?
Frustrated with her lack of control, Shayne grabbed the top fence rail and shook. Each rattle represented wasted minutes spent there and the time taken from her future with Annu. The strive for freedom pulsed through her, it interrupted her thoughts and shoved her out of bed each morning. All to face a day filled with half baked escape concepts and pleas to release her Godly self.
Shayne moved her anger down a rung. “That nobody fucking listens to.”
Her arms ached; she relent her hold on the fence. Shayne shifted from the gate across to the hedge filling the fence and smushed into the middle of it. The faint scent of rosemary comforted her, a fresh wave of memories flooded Shayne’s mind.
Shayne wriggled her middle finger, not a scar or mark indicated its former separation.
I can’t believe I got a finger chopped off and it grew back, let alone all the other stuff.
Before being found on the pantry floor by her son and taken to the hospital, Annu held Shayne in his arms inside a stone room. Both Demi-Gods fresh from ascension, and filled with universal power. All they’d been through to get there seemed like a dream, and she’d fucked it up.
Shayne in the ultimate moment of stupidity mentioned Earth one too many times, and in a flash a wormhole ripped Shayne back to her home planet and away from love.
True fucking love and shit too.
Annu’s shocked expression tormented her. “Damn you medication for making me forget it even for one second.”
A branch stuck into her back, Shayne wriggled further onto the hospital’s back lawn, a large pile of dried bird poop on her right fared better than her. “We did everything right and in return we weren’t given time to soak in our success; the greatest moment of existence. Let alone kiss and enjoy things. No, not me. I got cosmically shafted. As usual.”
Shayne yanked out a wad of grass and tossed it to the side. “I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind, there’s something pleasant about that place, even your emotions had a gecko, and so much pace. Mmm. Does that make me crazyyyy? Does that make me–oh wait apparently it does.”
Neighbourhood dogs howled, a flock of magpies a few metres ahead shot into the air.
Bastards don’t appreciate a good voice. Oh what does it matter? My new life waits on the other side of the Galaxy, through the stupid wormhole–an hour and a half, several security guards, and several door alarms from here.
Shayne resigned herself to no Knight in shining armour arriving to rescue her from the current dilemma.
Rather, a retard in tin foil waited on this one planet, on the hospital lawn, deep in thought and determined. “It’s not the first time I’ve saved myself. It’s probably like the third. Surely I can do it again?”
I miss my chocolate hulk.
Shayne shook her head, Annu lingered in her mind. Her belly gurgled, doubt poked into her thoughts.
Is he still waiting for me? No, he probably gave up, and I can’t blame him. He’s probably relishing in glory–alone.
Shayne tried to twirl her jade ring, its absence on her naked finger shot another wave of panic through Shayne. She’d grown accustomed to the odd piece of jewellery despite its catalytic nature.
Where did it go? I must have lost it when I burst through the wall. It’s got to be under the pantry shelf.
Shayne massaged a lump in her shoulder and sighed. “Another thing that doesn’t matter because I’m not getting out right now, so fuck it and fuck them.”
She scanned again for any sign of staff; all clear. Eyes squinted; she pulled out a smoke and lit it. Shayne inhaled to her lung’s capacity, held the breath and fought coughing.
Hold it in, don’t waste it. Any second now it will be worth it. You’ve got to cough to get off don’t you?
The scratch in her lungs eased, a warm rush numbed her senses and removed life’s edges. While it didn’t remove the body pain, it made not caring about it easier.
Another toke and the sweet smoke filled her chest. The reason Shayne sat next to the gate drifted away with the breeze.
Three quarters of her mind mushed, the remaining quarter niggled at her.
Focus. Don’t waste more time. Don’t fall back into old habits. Oh yeah – escape plan, future leader, blah blah blah. Wait, focus on what? What else can I do? I’ve got no powers, no ring, no wormhole. A big fat nothing. Protesting gets me nowhere and all my other attempts are well–unrealistic.
Shayne blew smoke rings into the sky. “Where are you when I need you Ghost Dad? Huh?”
He hasn’t answered to that name yet. Maybe I should call him Ki unless he tells me otherwise?
Eyes closed, mid puff–she attempted telepathy again.
‘Ah Ki, can you help me, please? Or am I too far away for you to hear?’
A bird on the lawn squawked, no one else answered her. “Okay so that’s a no then. Fine. Whatever.”
Shayne pushed off the grass and levered up her legs to stand. She pulled the phone from her pocket and re-read Erin’s last text message.
‘I don’t know if I’m coming for a visit tomorrow. It’s hard for me to visit you in there, Mum.’
The words buried Shayne in guilt and mocked her efforts at becoming a better parent, let alone have kids proud of her. “Hah. Another epic fail dickhead.”
Once they know the truth everything will change. I’ve got to make them believe me, show them somehow. Any ideas rolling around in my brain feel free to pop up.
Birds chirped, bees buzzed, and her mind remained empty.
None–really? Oh why is everything so fucking hard? All this thinking is stressing me the fuck out.
Shayne raised the smoke to her lips and killed all negative thoughts. Mid drag, the joint flew in one direction, the lighter in another. Her mouth dropped, Shayne’s last piece of sanity disappeared. A flick on the arm drew her attention to reality and away from herbal oblivion.
Hand to her chest, Shayne faced the buzz-killer culprit.
Nurse Rye. Fuck, crap. Of all the people to catch me. Shit, shit, shit.
A thick plume of smoke exploded in the nurse’s face, she coughed in response.
Shayne swished the smoke away. “Oh fu–u–er, flip. Nurse Rye–what a surprise. Damn woman, are you a ninja in your off time?”
Her bowel clenched, the nurse’s presence scared the crap back up into her intestines. A number of excuses ran through Shayne’s mind, all with better things to do than come out her mouth.
Geoffrey’s head poked around Nurse Rye’s middle and pointed at Shayne. “Found you, your highness. See, you can’t escape me. Ha. I win.”
Since arriving at the hospital Shayne followed a Forrest Gump’s reasoning; if crazy is what crazy does, Geoffrey fell into the bat-shit category. “Geoffrey for the twentieth time it’s goddess not highness. And I know–I can’t escape a damned thing.”
A deep growl erupted against Shayne’s ear; she flinched. Geoffrey bolted from the nurse’s side and out of sight.
The nurse’s shadow blocked Shayne’s sun. “Right this is the last time I deal with you. All you do is spout nonsense, smoke drugs and try to escape. If that wasn’t bad enough, and worse still, you refuse to accept the help you desperately need. You make my job impossible. One way or another you will follow the rules.”
The nurse’s grip tightened; she glared at the lighter on the ground. Her crinkled face resembled a prune. “And, you have contraband. Where did you get it from?”
Quick, dick-head make something up.
“Off a visitor. I hid it in my sock.”
I reiterate, dick head.
Nurse prune grunted, a vein pulsed in her forehead. “You’re forbidden from the common room and confined to your bed aside from meal times. Now, I’m taking you straight to the doctor where I’ll give her a full report. Move it.”
Shayne shuffled at the nurse’s side, the nurse’s death grip prevented playing dead. Breasts considered unnatural wonders smushed against her cheeks, with the consistency of tennis balls in wet socks, they swung in hypnotic rhythm. Shayne stifled the urge to poke them to see if they acted like memory foam.
Headed toward the main building, the unlikely duo caught the immediate attention of both patients and medical staff. Crazy and sane eyes followed their path through the main doors and down the hall.
Great, an audience. Like I need another one of those.
Shayne mumbled into inflated flesh. “Couldn’t you have taken me around the side way and maybe made less of a scene?” Her arm throbbed under the nurses grasp. “Ouch, when I’ve got my powers back you bitch, you’re done for. This is totally unfair.”
Heat burned the top of Shayne’s head, the nurse’s voice bored through her soul. “Oh, yes, that’s right, your amazing magic powers. They haven’t done you much good so far have they? And I bet they didn’t remind you about your doctor’s appointment this morning either?”
The small buzz from the half joint went stone-cold dead. Bam, a wet fish smacked Shayne in the face. “No and no. Crap.”
Escape plan escalated to top priority, finding real chocolate can wait.
On a mission, Nurse Rye barged into the doctor’s office. Doctor Unders poked her head above a sea of paperwork. Eyebrows thick enough to hide in covered the middle of her face.
Geez I wish you’d pluck those. Maybe she’ll let me do it one day.
A pen fell from Doctor Unders mouth and landed with a plop on the table. “Nurse Rye, what the hell are you thinking? Remove your hands from this patient immediately.”
The ground rumbled, Shayne suspected steam might erupt out the nurse’s ears.
“If I let her go, she’ll run off again. I caught her out the back alone and smoking drugs–again. She somehow manages to evade the staff and sneak off. How I do not know. And there’s no doubt she’s probably plotting another futile escape as we speak. I have a great deal of work already to do, and not enough people to spend time chasing around after her. She should be medicated adequately so she can’t get out of bed and cause trouble.”
Shayne imagined kicking the nurse’s shin.
If it didn’t get me put in solitary I’d relocate your nose for you.
To her credit, the Doctor didn’t appear intimidated. “You’ll leave the patient’s diagnosis to me, thanks. Perhaps if you supervised your staff better, this wouldn’t happen. How about you go investigate how Mr. Berris is able to swap his lithium for viagra any time he likes and leave me to my job.”
Saggy old balls dangled for a moment in Shayne’s mind, a cold chill followed.
Nurse Rye released her grip on Shayne’s arm and slapped her own thigh. “Fine. I expect you’ll put her on report.”
Shayne remained wedged between the nurse and the door frame without care. Even if she could move, she’d stay put and witness this show down. “Ding dong, the wicked witch is dead.”
“Stop telling me what to do. If you don’t leave my office now, you’ll have staples to remove from your forehead in thirty seconds.” The doctor grabbed the stapler. “Twenty.”
The tension in the room intensified, Nurse Angry prune transformed into the Furious Tomato.
Despite the nurse’s fury, Doctor Unders didn’t waver her glare. “Ten.”
With a huff, Nurse Rye wedged backwards out of the room.
Once she’d reached a safe distance away, Shayne pushed off the doorframe, past shelves filled with physiology text books, towards the one un-cracked plastic chair. She sat adjacent to a deconstructed torso, and hung pictures drawn by patients.
The childlike art broke up nausea inducing yellow, but nothing hid the aged furniture and pea green stained carpet. Shayne recited by memory the names of each text book on each shelf and artist on the wall.
Dr. Overs used her motherly voice. “Shayne, you forgot your appointment and got caught smoking, again. What are we going to do about this?”
Several of Geoffrey’s pieces took up the middle section. None of hers, she hated art. It ate into her TV watching time.
Maybe I could try being invisible. Eyes closed and focus.
“Shayne? Are you with me?”
Shit. She can still see me. Suck it up. “No, I’m not with you at all. I want to go home.”
Doctor Unders’ sigh ricocheted off the desk. “I get it, we all do. But the fact remains, you are still heavily influenced by your delusions. They haven’t altered in strength one iota since your arrival.”
“Well duh. Because it happened, it’s all true and I’m not nuts. Simple.”
“Do you understand we need actual evidence other than your say so about you being royalty and all? And there’s your physical issues which further complicate things. However, I’m sure we’re close to discovering why you have such high levels of DMT in your blood. That’s one thing at least.”
Why don’t people listen to me?
“For the hundredth time, I’m a goddess not royalty. Different kettle of fish.”
Get it right, you morons.
Shayne picked at a strand on her pants. “Huh? DM what?”
“Aha. DMT is a chemical found in people immediately prior to the moment of death. You have a consistent high level in your blood, which I believe may be linked to this delusional behaviour.”
Shayne tapped her head. It echoed. “You won’t find anything wrong with my brain. What about the –”
Doctor Unders cut Shayne off with a raised hand. “Before you say it, we can’t find any biological evidence of you being immortal or having magic powers, nor of your finger being chopped off and, ah, grown back.”
Stupid narrow-minded people surrounded her. “For the tenth time, you aren’t using the right equipment.”
“Shayne, it’s time you faced facts. This other planet–Orion–with all these people and fantastical events are a creation of your mind. None of it happened. It’s illogical. Do yourself a favour and let it go. Concede you need help. In time, if you respond to treatment, you will be able to go home.”
The strand came loose, Shayne selected another. “No, I won’t change my mind. I can’t, every part of it is real. The good, the bad, the ugly. Somehow, someway, I’ll prove it to you.”
A curl broke free from back of the doctor’s head, it sprung into her face. “Are you still taking your medication?”
I’m still taking vitamins.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t take the meds, they don’t work. Shayne, I’ve always had a lot of time for you. Yet, it’s a struggle to balance this duality within you. I know there is a healthy person in there. They’re just buried under a mountain of tragic events and bad judgment. When you’re not talking about Orion, and the kitchen hasn’t run out of anything chocolate flavoured, you appear mentally sound. With all this in mind, at this point in time in good medical consciousness, I can’t release you.”
Shayne’s stomach climbed her abdomen, up her throat, and dropped onto the floor. She refused to cry, instead stabbing a pencil at the desk.
Can’t someone cut me some slack?
“First of all, the chocolate flavoured shit’s the only thing substituting for lack of actual chocolate because you consider the wrappers a choking hazard. Second, for fuck’s sake. I AM NOT nuts. Yes, long ago I spent some time in a psych ward for a few weeks. This is different.”
Doctor Unders’ tone softened. “I didn’t say nuts but you had nightmares, migraines, and hallucinations then too. Except for a much more elaborate delusion, how is this time unlike the other? This man Annu you’ve created, coincidentally, turned into the love of your life and a perfect match. And, his mother, Irica, is the mother you’ve longed for.”
Shayne shoved Irica out of her mind, and shuddered. “Don’t talk about Irica again.”
“Alright, I’m sorry. I forgot.”
She’d not let defeat claim her; Shayne grabbed inner strength. “Look it’s not the same at all okay. Well, actually it’s kind of a bit the same, but not. Back then, I saw and heard some strange things which didn’t make sense. Myself, boosted by a few others, thought I’d lost it. Until I travelled to Orion recently, I realised those so called hallucinations were visions of my future, and I wasn’t crazy at all. I did get pulled into a wormhole in my pantry and onto Orion. Me and Annu defeated an ancient God, Sham-man, I mean Shamesh, and a few others along the way. It wasn’t easy. Plus I got kidnapped, froze people, got hurt and all sorts of shit–yet ended up back home, where again, no one believes me. And trust me, if I made up a dream world, do you really think there would be so much death and destruction in it? I’d design it so I walked in, got my powers, and life turned into butterflies and fucking rainbows. Not ended with me here powerless in a mental hospital with a chronic illness.”
Shayne stuck her finger in the hole she’d created in her pants. “Which is caused from me being from Orion not Earth. My DNA isn’t meant for here.”
Doctor Unders glasses dropped on the desk beside the pen. “I thought you accepted you’re sick from the autoimmune disease Psoriatic Arthritis. Shayne, your fantastical evidence can’t be validated. Like the magical ring, which you don’t have, wormholes no one else sees, and life on another planet. Which you claim to be a Demi-God of, and none of it can be proven. And yet it won’t sink in that head of yours. Shayne, what about the effect this has on your kids? If it were true, wouldn’t they believe you? Wouldn’t someone have seen something?”
Bam, smacked on the other side of the face with another wet fish. “Leave Erin and Ryan out of it. They don’t understand yet, but they will. As soon as I get out of here. I just need to get back home.”
“Well I’ve got to tell you, it’s going to be a while and you aren’t getting out of this session. I’ve got 20 minutes left Shayne. Can we talk about your ex husband?”
Where were all these fish coming from?
“No. At least that son of a bitch is dead.”
The doctor probed her face. “Each of these wrinkles is your fault.” Another curl on the opposite side broke free; together the curls formed white horns around the doctor’s face. “Fine. Let’s start from when you moved into the other house.”
Do I spend twenty minutes fighting the session, or play nice and use to the time to figure a way out of this crap hole?
Shayne spotted the Doc’s handbag next to the desk, no easily accessible keys stuck out the top.
Damn, I better think of another idea.
What inspired my novel –
Inspiration came from many sources. Reading other novels & authors is an obvious answer but far too important to leave out for the sake of avoiding cliché. Personal experience is a huge part too. For example, I have a friend who wears glasses. Whenever it’s just me and him he would shout “hey, four eyes!” when he seen someone else wearing glasses. The offended party would turn round, see my friend with glasses on and then see me without. I’m sure I don’t need to point out who was always chastised for the yelled insult. Thankfully, It never lead to me being punched or beat-up but if looks could kill I would be dead fifty times over by now. I put this ‘trick’ in one of my short stories. There are lots of real life incidents that can make for interesting reading. If you remember it, then by definition it’s memorable. Chances are someone else will see the humour, the joy, the sadness, the awkwardness or whatever the case may be too. There are countless novels in your memory bank, the hard part is working out how to best utilise the material you have stored there. I used my “hey, four eyes!” memory in a short story called ones boy’s war. I think it made for a brilliant read but hey, we would all love to write our own reviews, right?
What’s it about –
The children of duty & justice interweaves fantasy, romance, politics and religion with mental illness, gender relations, and broken families.
The book follows Osyron Rymore as he leaves the family home to find his way in life. He joins the marshals (the law) in the hope of seeing justice done and being someone of worth in the world. However, it’s not long before world events outmatch one ideological boy and his honourable intent. All kingdoms have united into two empires that now sit tentatively side by side. Guided by scripture, Emperor Horim of Olbaid foresees an inevitable war and plots to strike before being struck. Horim hatches a plan to frame neighbouring empire, Miria as instigators to win support for his holy conflict. Despite a predicted death toll in the millions and a war expected to span decades, Horim see’s no price too great to shape his legacy and see off the preordained demonic invasion.
Due to this brewing war, most seasoned marshals are conscripted into the army leaving Osyron and fellow recruits with tasks that outweigh their experience. Opportunity is on the rise for criminals and a child trafficking ring is suspected to be operating in a coastal village in the far reaches of the empire. Osyron is sent alone. Here he meets Daniela Callahan, a fisherman’s wife who leads him on a journey further that any charted map and beyond all belief.
Additional info –
I have a deep love of the fantasy genre and wanted to create a medieval, fantasy world that incorporates and explores modern topics and issues. I wanted to write a novel that did not lean too heavily on fantasy elements just for razzmatazz sake. The idea was to keep real people with real issues as the meat and potatoes of the story and use fantasy as flavoursome gravy. I find there are too many novels that do it the other way around. At the very least I wanted to offer a fresh take on the traditional cornerstones of the fantasy novel, something a little different without sacrificing what makes fantasy such a well loved genre to begin with.
If anyone reading this is contemplating writing a novel or even a short story, then I urge you, do it. Don’t tell yourself you’re not a writer. You were not a walker once and if you applied that same logic back then you’d still be crawling today. It’s challenging but you can do it. Writing yourself off leads nowhere, writing a novel leads to be continued.
Author bio – I was born and raised in Glasgow, Scotland and still enjoy living there today. I worked as a stock auditor for seven years which involved travelling around the towns of Great Britain and Ireland. What may sound glamorous on paper were countless hours daydreaming out of a mini-van window. My first novel, ‘The Children of Duty & Justice’ is a direct product of those daydreams. Like a lot of folk, I wanted to write a novel but always dismissed the thought, telling myself. “But you’re not a writer.” This horse before the cart logic only pacified me for so long. I decided to test the waters with a short story, something light to gauge my aptitude with the pen, or as these are modern times, I guess the keyboard would be more apt. That short story became my 116,000 word debut novel. Maybe I was a writer after all, or perhaps I just really suck at short stories.
links to my novel and social media…
UK link – https://www.amazon.co.uk/Children-Duty-Justice-GJ-Fairhurst/dp/153488940X/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1468582514&sr=8-1 US link – https://www.amazon.com/Children-Duty-Justice-J-Fairhurst-ebook/dp/B01HPJRLE6/ref=tmm_kin_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1468582733&sr=8-1#navbar
Dauntless is a coming of age story set against a fantasy background. When Kacey Alexander turns 18, she finds out that she is a Mage, one of a long line of magic practitioners. When Kacey’s mother dies, she leaves all of her belongings to Kacey, including a journal that details her past as a monster hunter. When the details of her mother’s past come back to haunt her, Kacey must learn to master her powers and put together an unlikely alliance of friends to stop an army that threatens to destroy her city.
What inspired it: I was in the middle of a long writer’s block when I came up with the idea for Dauntless. One day my roommate Brandon and I were watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I complained about how TV and movies never had characters like her anymore. Characters who were strong, sure, but who also had the ability to be weak. Characters that were well rounded and experienced the full range of human emotion. My roommate challenged me to write a character like that and, after many incarnations, Dauntless was the result.
Dauntless is a book that lets us know that family means more than just who we’re related to. The strong bonds that Kacey has with her friends make them just as much family than her blood relatives. In fact, more so. Further the struggles that Kacey faces in finding herself in an unknown world mirrors a lot of problems people face when trying to fit in.
Find it on Amazon!
Thomas Atwood Jr was born in Colorado Springs, Colorado. His love of writing was kindled early when his father gave him a copy of The Legends of King Arthur as an Easter present. These presents continued every year and he would devour them all. Soon he was developing further adventures for the characters to go on. When his high school teachers encouraged him to pursue writing, he embarked on a journey that would result in Dauntless, his debut novel.
Check out his other books also available on Amazon
I was recently nominated by a writer friend of mine to answer 11 questions in the Sunshine Blogger Award. D. James Fortescue was one of six authors in a collaboration project I joined in 2014. It was a great deal of fun working with him, and after the team had gone our seperate ways, it was quite exciting to see his name pop up in my notifications with this nomination.
The rules are:
- Link back to the person who tagged you. TICK
- Answer all 11 of their questions. See below.
- Nominate 11 bloggers with less than 1000 readers and let them know you’ve nominated them.
- Ask them 11 questions.
Linking 11 bloggers. Hm. That’s the hard part. Finding people who would do it.
- Travis Martin
- Beth Hammond
- Lilian Oake
- Carl Baumann
- Kasey Hill
- JC Boyd
- Laurie Wetzel
- Robert Cano
- Steve Rose
- Alvin Foeng
My questions are:
1. When you think about your goals, how are your pursuing them?
2. What kind of things do you use to help get the mood going for your projects?
3. If you’re listening to a Pandora station, and a song comes on that you don’t like, do you stop your writing and change the song, or do you listen to it through and keep writing anyway?
4. How do weather patterns play into your stories? Does the weather affect your characters?
5. If you had the opportunity to go absolutely anywhere for inspiration, where would it be?
6. What role do politics play in your stories?
7. Are you afraid to write about certain topics based on how others might view them?
8. As a BLOGGER, what do you blog about?
9. How do you feel your blogs are making an impact on your skills as a writer, or your exposure in general?
10. Do you like chocolate cake or white cake?
11. If you had the option to eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?
My answers to D. James’ questions:
- As you are all awesome authors, what stories of yours are currently available for people to procure? (provide links)
I am currently published in Den of Thieves, a Den of Quills Anthology
My story is called “The Precious Jewel”. It’s the first short story I have available, while I continue to work on my High Fantasy words.
I also wrote a 100 word drabble for a Halloween themed drabble Anthology ((I also did the cover))
- What exciting things are going in your portion of the planet? On my portion. Well, we’re currently holding primary elections for President. It is at this point in time that I have decided we should have started America as a monarchy, because then no one would be complaining about the idiots running for President.
My son and daughter are growing like weeds, I’m extremely excited to have both of them. On Sunday we’re taking them to A Day Out With Thomas to ride a very special blue engine from the magical Island of Sodor.
- Do you prefer your fermented beverages grain- or grape-based? Grape and berry. I enjoy a good blackberry merlot from time to time. I also like coconut based– Rum is pretty good stuff.
- What currently unavailable works are you working upon? The Tambine of Eldegras, and the first book that has yet to be named. I’m also writing a book for my branch of the wonderful universe of Volden.
- Who’s your sports team of choice? I’m partial to the Green Bay Packers.
- Dream holiday location? Ireland. I love Alaska’s inside passage and would cruise that stretch every year if I could afford it, but my dream trip would be to see Ireland.
- Your feelings on the current status of the USA Presidential Nominations? I hate everyone on the ticket, and think We The People should overthrow the candidates and set up a new panel of candidates to vote for. But considering everyone in America is so darn compliant, that won’t happen.
- If you could start your own religion, who/what would be its figurehead? That’s an odd question. I don’t really want to start a new religion.
- Favourite style of house? Mansions. Lots of them.
- Greatest source of strength and inspiration? Lord Of The Rings.
- I couldn’t figure it out. What DID The Fox say?
Thank you for the tag and the opportunity to answer your questions. I look forward to reading everyone elses answers!
Do you like stories with pirates? If the answer is no, then you can leave and go do something else other than read the rest of this.
Have the strange people gone? Yes? Good. Well here we are then.
I wrote a book. It’s an action/adventure/mystery/romance in the theme of fantasy steampunk. Quite a mouthful right? Really it’s just a rollicking good story about our heroine Larissa, her counterpart – a reticent yet highly skilled fighter named Holt – her genius engineer friend Cid, and a cat.
The first book The Machine is where the story starts and really you need to read that before you can read book two, The Pirate. It’s available now for only $0.99 (or equivalent currency in your location), at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01B43XF08.
You go read that now and come back to me here, I’ll wait…
Now that’s out of the way, you want to find out what happens next don’t you? Well lucky you. Book 2, The Pirate is out on 29th February. The same team are off on yet another adventure. Poor Larissa has a bit too much to handle on her plate, and now that she has become the Captain of the pirate airship all responsibility falls squarely on her shoulders. I do like to torture my poor characters. It’s good for them (at least that’s what I keep trying to tell them. I’m not sure they agree.)
The story is fast paced, action packed, funny in places and a compelling page-turner. There’s never a dull moment in my books because who wants to write/read dull stuff? Not me, and presumably not you either.
Here’s a little sneak peak for you:
“Set the five-minute fuse going and place the bomb in the middle cell. It’s far enough away from the furnace room that it won’t destroy the ship, and far enough away from Barton not to kill him.”
“Not wanting to slaughter your way off the ship today, huh?”
“These men are only following orders.” Holt cast a wistful glance up the stairs. “Most of them, anyway. Set the next fuse when we get to the mid-deck and leave it in the staircase so the explosion doesn’t catch any of the black powder. The last two we’ll light when we’re about to get up top. How do we get off?”
“The pirate ship is sailing aft. It’s…invisible.”
“We’ll have to jump.”
“Into thin air,” Holt said.
“It’ll be there,” she tried for reassurance as she held the bomb with the longest fuse up to a gas lamp to light it. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince Holt or herself.
“Who’s piloting?” Holt asked.
Holt gave a grunt in response. It was not a grunt of approval.
“You think you can make it with those still attached?” she asked, pointing to his chains.
“Too late to worry about that now.” He nodded at the bomb.
Larissa jumped a little as she suddenly realized that the clock was ticking. She rushed to the middle of the corridor and placed the small bomb through the bars of one of the cells and chanced a quick glance at her pocket watch.
“Five minutes,” she whispered, heading back to Holt, who’s already started up the stairs. He’d collected a short-sword from the Captain and carried it in both his hands. Larissa would have doubted the ability of most men to be effective being so restricted. Holt was not like most men.
“What if we see people?” she whispered as they ascended.
“There are sixty-two men aboard. I would find it odd if we did not see anyone.”
“I mean what do we do if people see us?”
He turned back and cast an appraising glance over her. “Do not let people see you.”
Did that catch your attention? I hope so. If it did then you can order your copy here.
Let me know what you think if you read them. You can find me any number of places:
E.C. Jarvis is a professional bean-counter (accountant) and semi-professional word spewer (author). She once got the two confused – it was not pretty. Born, raised and currently living in England. Over the years, E.C. Jarvis has managed to accumulate a husband, a daughter, and a cat.
What drew me to Selkies was the fact that I had never read a paranormal romance involving them. In fact, when I did my research, I found there wasn’t a whole lot of lore concerning Selkies, aside from the fact that they can shed their seal skins and take on a human shape. I actually liked that there wasn’t a lot of lore, because it left plenty of room for me to create my own. Which is what I did. I choose ancient Celtic lore for the simple fact that I have always been drawn to it. Ireland has always been a magical place for me, a place that you can believe magic exists. When you’re there, it’s like you’re in another time, a fairytale land. The lore is so colorful, it truly is beautiful and magical. And I wanted to impart that into my story.
I knew from the moment I started Secrets that I wanted to publish it. I wanted it in the world, being read, being enjoyed. It’s been an amazing, and emotional journey to get to this point. The one thing that will never leave me, is that my dad was able to see me reach this accomplishment before he passed away. I made the decision to self-publish Secrets, after a lot of thought and research. There is still a part of me that would love to be picked up by a big name publisher, however, I am a bit of a control freak, so I’m not sure if it would be a good fit or not. I have a Young Adult Fantasy novel that is currently being edited, and I’m thinking about sending it out to publishing houses, just to see what would happen. It can’t hurt, and if I get all no’s, there’s always self-publishing. So, really, it’s a win-win.
Currently, I’m working on a lot. I have sequels to Secrets and Skyfall in the works, as well as revamping a love story I started a few years ago. On top of all of those, I am working on a surprise novella, as well as short stories for anthologies my writing group is putting out. So, suffice it to say, I’m a busy bee. Haha. But I love it. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
E. H. Demeter is the mother of two wacky kiddos, and she’s married to the love of her life. She lives in South Carolina, where she loves to hate the heat and miss the rain. She can almost always be found with her nose in a book and a notebook on her person. She writes in every free moment she has, and she’s been writing for as long as she can remember. It’s truly her passion, and she fuels it to the best of her ability.
Secrets, Book One of the Rune Trilogy, is her first book! Also featured in three anthologies, with promise of more coming, E.H. Demeter is certainly a worthy addition to your bookshelves.