I recently learned that fellow Red Adept Publishing author Harvey Chute is entering hospice care. He's been battling Stage IV cancer, though you'd never know it from his amazing work (here's his wife's blog, which talks about his fight: http://www.carriesgonnawrite.blogspot.com/). In addition to being a fantastic writer, Harvey is the founder of KBoards, a popular forum for indie authors and e-book readers.
Lynn McNamee, Red Adept's owner, is donating her earnings from sales of Harvey's book, Stone & Silt, to Harvey and his family. I remember Harvey saying, after his book was published, that it was a dream come true. It's one of my personal favorites from the Red Adept stable... This is me raving about it on this blog last year: http://zigzagtl.blogspot.com/2014/10/review-stone-silt-harvey-chute.html.
If you've got five bucks to spare, please pick up this wonderfully plotted and beautifully written YA historical mystery, about a biracial Native girl in 19th century British Columbia who must prove her father's innocence after he's falsely accused of murder. It's got rich historical details, a thrilling mystery at the core, and a fascinating depiction of life as as a child of two worlds. 16-year-old Nikaia must handle the tough realities of being the daughter of a white father and a Native mother who must fit into the settlers' world while also learning about her mother's culture. Oh, and her love interest is the son of Chinese immigrants... bonus diversity points. It's available on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and more (full list of retailers on Red Adept's website - click here). I'd buy it 100 times if I could. After you read it, please consider leaving a review on Amazon to help this gorgeous book gain some visibility.
Years of deception and
suppressed trauma do not prevent secrets from unraveling when parallel worlds
clash, intertwining families and exposing hidden agendas.An unwanted romance mirrored in an alternate
universe has devastating consequences for an unsuspecting young woman and a
mysterious stranger.
“There is a vast literary intellect behind Camille and The Bears of
Beisa - Drafnel, and it belongs to author Simone Salmon. The language is
transfixing, bewitching, erupting into that realm between an epic poem of
breakneck pace, and the clarity and rigor of an after-action report meant only
for a general’s eyes.
This story operates in many rich dimensions. It reads like a
graphic novel, but without need of illustrations, as the events explode like
fireworks in the mind’s eye. What an amazing piece of writing!”
"The structure and some of the themes of the book reminded me
of the movie The Fountain, which I adored. This idea of the same person
persisting in different forms across time and space, mostly through the power
of deep emotional connection to other people, really connected the two pieces
in my mind."
"Salmon’s use of folktales and specific stories to build out
the structure of this unfamiliar world, and to link it back to Camille’s story,
was a brilliant narrative device."
"Drafnel is Dune-like in the grandiose sweep of its
worldbuilding. The sci-fi universe Salmon creates, Narvina, with its eight
ruling clans and ornate power structures was intriguing. It was also refreshing
to read a great space opera like this where the people in charge are people of
color, and where the universe is a matriarchy."
BR Sanders, Clatter and Clank
“The scene's describing
Catherine's sojourn in Jamaica are the strongest section(s) of the book...”
“The writing in this section
is very contemporary and accurately reflects the self-confidence of young urban
women who feel they're on the cusp of great things and fully in control of
their personal destinies.”
“...a bit of writing that
stays with you a long time.”
Merrill Chapman, Rule-Set
Excerpt 1
Narvina, Nu-century 2055
Aknanka clamps down with all her might. Her teeth tear
into Sephia’s wrinkled skin, digging for chunks of flesh. They only grind
against bone. A fist smashes into her cheek, jerking her head sideways. Sephia
yanks her hand away right before Aknanka chomps down again. Blood gushes
everywhere.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Aknanka’s scream rages
through the interior, punching a small dent into the door. It slams shut.
Any experimenting she needs to conduct today will be done
right here. And without blindfolds. The metal restraints chafe Aknanka’s wrists
as she wriggles around for freedom.
“Stop fighting, Dreamer. You make this harder than it has
to be.”
“Bet you’ll think before trying that again, oh Wise One!”
Aknanka’s aim is accurate. Bloody sputum soils the middle of Sephia’s tunic.
A med-bot enters the room and stitches the bandages over
Sephia’s wound. The pale Elder clenches her fists. Her eyes blaze to match the
blood staining the floor. The med-bot’s front panel flashes, absorbing the
charge from Sephia’s quelled anger. Sparks bounce across the overloaded
circuits. The bot spins over to the sealed porthole and then powers down.
“These gene markers will soon confirm our suspicions,
Dreamer.” Sephia’s shoulders stiffen, tugging at the hood to expose her
protruding frontal lobe. Her white skull magnifies in the dimness. Her lips
never move.
Na-mum Camille warned Aknanka that the Elders would spare
no sympathy once they discover her true kinsatah.
She followed every painstaking instruction: the implants are undetectable, even
from their host.
Book Trailer:
Author Bio:
Simone Salmon, a Jamaican born New Yorker, is the mother of two
sons and a jack Russell terrier.
Simone is still working on her exit strategy
from Corporate America, but in the meantime she writes novels, poetry and
expands her multisensory perceptions.
She is a spiritual truth seeker who appreciates
psychic phenomena and timelessness.
Music of all kinds, warm weather, lounging on
the beach, and experiencing the unknown are just a few of her most favorite
things.
Excerpt 2
Jamaica, 20th Century
The food on display and the brilliant dyes of the
hand-loomed textiles hanging at the market made me homesick. The marketplace
crowded with vendors selling varied crafts and wares. The frenzied pitch of the
hagglers echoed under the tin roofs. Voluptuous women wearing multi-colored
wraps balanced huge straw baskets on cornbraided heads, while children darted
through stalls with jaws stuffed of toffee candy or juggled melting snow cones
with syrup-stained hands. Fruits ripening in the heat sweetened the layer of jerk
pork and chicken charring over coals inside huge metal drums.
At first Miss Mattie kept me close, but as the market
became more crowded her clenched fingers slackened. I searched the aisles,
worried about returning home empty-handed. Failing to find any spices, I
started making my way back to Miss Mattie and then noticed a young woman with a
basket tucked between her knees. Loose braids stuck out from under her head
scarf. Kind hazel eyes invited me forward. Curious, I bent over to check out
the samples. The woman pulled me closer and stuffed a piece of cloth into my
waistband.
“A gift from the Goling family, Miss. Put it in
safe-keeping. This has been my honor.”
Miss Mattie swooped in at my heels in a matter of seconds.
She sniffed the air several times and shoved me away from the vendor’s stall.
We left thirty minutes later, my impatience to unwrap the cloth’s contents
shielded.
Unpacking the supplies, I started dinner. Then, while the
meal simmered, I sneaked to my room and pulled out the puffed packet. Wrapped
inside were five cinnamon sticks. My smile must have been a mile wide. I
decided to add them to my hideaway after Miss Mattie left for church that
Sunday.
As my guardian angel instructed, I wrapped a small piece
under the ribbon tied around my braid. I noticed Miss Mattie’s immediate
reaction. Her harsh tone gentled and she even allowed me to eat with her at the
dining table. A welcomed change, my nerves were still on guard, unsure of how
long Miss Mattie’s tolerance would last. Against my better judgment, I decided
to ask about Caleb and Cassandra.
“Miss Mattie, do you think I can visit with my sister and
brother sometime soon?”
Growling, Miss Mattie cocked her head and then swung
around to face the door. Her eyes rolled back into their sockets. Her head
snapped back as she sniffed the air.
“Why are you sitting at this table?”
I warned you, Grandmother. Leave the table now!
Miss Mattie’s neck protruded as her limbs extended.
Fingers mutated into claws and hind legs ripped through her lower extremities.
Wiry tufts of hair sprouted all over her body. Her face contorted and elongated
as saliva slimed down enlarged jowls. My hand stifled the scream roaring
through my head.
Get up and walk away slowly. Do not turn your back on
it. Now!
Doing panels at conventions is loads of fun. Also somewhat terrifying if you're an introvert like me, but generally a rewarding experience. Yet as with all awesome things, sometimes things aren't all sunshine and daisies. So during one of the dealer room lulls at a recent con, I made a little game as a tongue-in-cheek way to laugh at some common panelist frustrations... check it out...
Confession time: I'm scared of my own book. Well, I guess it's not really a book, since it hasn't exactly been written yet. I'm scared of the book I want to write. The book I'm supposed to be working on. How scared? Well, I'm sitting here blogging instead of writing it so... It's a universally known fact that creative types, including (and perhaps especially) writers, are horrible procrastinators. I used to think this didn't apply to me. After all, my first Serious Book (as in, the one I wanted to get right and didn't write as a teenager) went from brainstorm to first draft in two months. And I couldn't stop working on it... Day in and day out, I was futzing and fiddling and trying to make it right. The more I wrote, the more I wanted to write, until I couldn't imagine not writing. So that meant the Procrastination Curse skipped over me, right? Turns out, it only missed me because I was too eager and clueless for it to have anything to latch onto. I had no expectations, and no one expecting anyone from me, which meant I could just mess around with my words with zero stakes involved. Then I got published. But I still didn't know anything and remained eager and clueless... slippery enough that the old Curse didn't have anything to grasp. I knew a thing or two by now about how the editorial process and everything worked, but was still feeling my way around the industry, figuring out how the publishing world worked and all. Then I got published again, and something happened: I started getting ambitious. I started holding myself to a higher standard than "oh, this is just for fun and I hope others happen to enjoy what I create." The writing stopped being about me having fun... It started being about the readers. I wanted to make something that lots of people would enjoy. And yes, I wanted a big house deal with a juicy advance and a cover that would get featured on all the big book blogs. I wanted a spot on mainstream bestseller lists and blurbs from famous people. I wanted it all. And so with this added pressure on myself, I started brainstorming my next project. It became so awesome in my head that I couldn't wait to work on it. But when I finally settled down and tried to, I was paralyzed. I found every excuse possible not to do it. Because as long as it existed only in my head, it was perfect. The moment I start trying to make it real, it'll be just another Crappy First Draft. I'm afraid I'll screw it up. I'm afraid I can't pull it off. I'm afraid it'll be disappointed in me. Yes, I just personified my own unwritten book. Yet the longer I stew in my fears, the worse they get. I think I remember reading somewhere about this procrastination cycle of doom. You don't do something because as long as it doesn't really exist, it's perfect. But because you're not working on it, you feel like a loser. And because you feel like a loser, you don't work on it. Etc. Etc. In other words: MARY, GET OFF BLOGGER ALREADY AND WRITE YOUR DAMN BOOK.
First of all, if you got the reference in the title of the is post, then *high five*. It's a play on From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, a book I read as a kid and that has stayed with me ever since (and that may be part of the reason behind my obsession with the Met Museum). Anyway, it looks like the Mighty 'Zon, also known as Amazon.com, has decided to take my book's spooks more seriously than I do... Look what they categorized FIREDRAGON RISING as!
Genre #3 says Horror. As in Stephen King - or Stephen Kozeniewski - type chills and gore.
That's right--HORROR. Probably because the story has monsters and ghosts? But not all monsters and ghosts are created equal. While Aurelia winds up in plenty of danger, FIREDRAGON RISING is, at its heart, a fantasy adventure, full of scary beasties and dark magic. Which is quite different from horror stories intended to, as the genre implies, evoke a sense of horror. The novella is meant to take you on a thrill ride, like a rollercoaster, not freak you out, like a haunted house.
Then again, Aurelia does get justifiably freaked out by giant monsters
But ah well. What's in a genre anyway? The lines are always changing, always blurring. And the Flynn Nightsider universe, where FIREDRAGON RISING and its prequel, THE FIREDRAGON, reside, is quite the mash-up. It has magic at its core, which makes it fantasy. It's also chock-full of supernatural spooks, like monsters and ghosts, which does encroach on horror-land (at least paranormal, which is a subset of horror). Yet it takes place in the future and is all about toppling a totalitarian government, which makes it dystopia... a kind of sci-fi. So it's got pieces of sci-fi and fantasy and horror.
Whatever genre you put her in, Aurelia's got this
So maybe Amazon's not so mixed-up after all. Especially when I remembered that I wrote this bit in Chapter 6: Darkness Closing...
Suddenly a chill—icier, even, than the winter wind—wafted through the air, and she stopped abruptly. Something dangerous was coming, and the slight tremor in the ground beneath her confirmed it. Another freezing gust blasted toward her, causing the trees to shake and their bare branches to rattle. Beneath the gale, she heard a woman’s faint voice calling, “Hellooooo, little giiiiirl...” A specter. Its voice seemed to have come from all directions at once. Shuddering, Aurelia seized her swords and held them out to her sides, swinging them quickly in hopes that the silver blades would force the spirit to back off. There wasn’t anything else she could do to fight a spirit. Fear pricked at her, but she swatted it away. Specters fed on fear, drawing strength from its energy. She wouldn’t give it that advantage. “Helloooooo,” the specter said again, and this time its tone carried a cruel laugh. Aurelia looked around wildly, searching the dark and hoping she wouldn’t find anything. The more visible a specter was, the more power it wielded, which meant the weakest were as transparent as the wind while the most powerful looked almost solid. As long as this specter wasn’t strong enough to materialize, she stood a chance of escaping before it hurled her into a tree, or heaved a boulder at her head, or found some other way to kill her. Dread clawed at her insides, and she fought to keep it down. Then an abrupt, resounding crack shot through the night, and she sensed something huge coming at her. Realizing it was a falling tree, she leaped out of the way just before the trunk crashed into the ground. The snapping of branches peppered the air like gunfire, and she ducked as one came barreling toward her. As she sprang back up, her eyes caught a horrifying sight: A faintly glowing, translucent woman in a blue dress that hung in tatters from her skeletal figure, which was loosely covered in torn, gray skin. Her face was so distorted that Aurelia wondered how it had ever been human at all. One eye looked as if someone had grabbed it and its surrounding flesh, yanked it down next to the nostrils, and then filled the resulting space with an enormous gray boil. The lips appeared to have crumbled away, leaving a ragged hole around the eternal grin of a skull’s teeth.
Okay, so that's pretty horror-y, right? But does that make FIREDRAGON RISING actual horror? Let me know what you think when you're done reading it (*hint hint* *angelic smile*)... and oh, look! Here it is on Amazon! What a handy link...
Sinister plots. An underground rebellion. And a treacherous road filled with monsters and enemies unknown.
It's been three months since Aurelia survived the International Challenge--an elite monster-fighting competition. And the Triumvirate has been keeping a close eye on her ever since ... as if they expect her to cause them more trouble.
They're right.
Now that she knows about the underground revolution--and the dark secrets of her own past--Aurelia is hell-bent on escaping the government's watchful gaze and joining the rebels. Finally, she's found a cause worth fighting for. A way for her kind, the Norms, to take back their freedom.
Then, when she overhears a Triumvirate official's conversation, she learns that it's even worse than she realized. The government knows about the rebels, and the rebellion. They're searching for people who sympathize with the cause. And they're coming after her next.
Suddenly the time for dreaming about the rebellion is over. Aurelia must make contact with the rebels and plot a quick escape ... before the Triumvirate has a chance to capture her. But government forces and miles of monster-filled wilderness stand between her and the rebel headquarters, and dangers she never imagined lurk in the shadows.
Before she can fight for the freedom of her people, she must achieve her own--or die trying.
Hey everyone! FIREDRAGON RISING, my YA fantasy novella, is out today! Find it on Amazon for only $0.99! Also, here's another excerpt to give you a taste...
FROM CHAPTER 5: POWER OF THE UNDERWORLD
Storm’s fire spell did little more than irritate the enormous monster, which let out an earth-shattering
cry and stomped one leg in fury. It swiped a tentacle toward Storm, but the Enchanter vanished in a flash of light, then reappeared behind the thorndevil, just inches from the tip of its flaming tail. The thorndevil twisted back to face him, turning away from Aurelia, and she spotted her opening—it was distracted, and it couldn’t see her from its present angle.
She had to take it. Her instincts—skills that were as much a part of her as her bones—sprang into action. A faint voice in the back of her mind chirped that she could let the thorndevil and Storm battle it out while she got away, but that could mean letting a monster live … which she couldn’t do. If the thorndevil struck again when she wasn’t around to stop it, and someone died because of that, then it would be her fault for not stopping the creature when she had the chance.
So she rushed forward, her eyes fixed on the tentacle that sat curled on the ground. Chopping it off wouldn’t kill the beast, but she had to weaken it before she could attempt a fatal blow. And at the moment, the thorndevil was too occupied by Storm to realize that it had a second attacker. This was her best chance. She paused, watching, and right when the Enchanter threw another blaze at the monster, leaped at the flamed-tipped limb.
Her blade sliced through the scaly flesh, green blood spurting from the wound. The severed tentacle landed on the ground, its flames dying out, but almost before she could look up, a second fiery appendage was slashing toward her. She rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the poisonous spikes. Springing up, she caught sight of a tentacle crashing down and whipped both blades out before her, forming an X with them. The tentacle landed in the crook and she pulled her arms apart, slicing through it.
Sensing that something else was about to strike her, she jumped back just in time to avoid the stream of spit spewing from the thorndevil’s snout. And a good thing too—a thorndevil’s saliva was acidic, and could burn through your skin as easily as fire burned through paper.
FIREDRAGON RISING is the sequel to the first FIREDRAGON novella.
Sinister plots. An underground rebellion. And a treacherous road filled with monsters and enemies unknown.
It's been three months since Aurelia survived the International Challenge—an elite monster-fighting competition. And the Triumvirate has been keeping a close eye on her ever since … as if they expect her to cause them more trouble.
They’re right.
Now that she knows about the underground revolution—and the dark secrets of her own past—Aurelia is hell-bent on escaping the government’s watchful gaze and joining the rebels. Finally, she’s found a cause worth fighting for. A way for her kind, the Norms, to take back their freedom.
Then, when she overhears a Triumvirate official’s conversation, she learns that it’s even worse than she realized. The government knows about the rebels, and the rebellion. They’re searching for people who sympathize with the cause. And they’re coming after her next.
Suddenly the time for dreaming about the rebellion is over. Aurelia must make contact with the rebels and plot a quick escape … before the Triumvirate has a chance to capture her. But government forces and miles of monster-filled wilderness stand between her and the rebel headquarters, and dangers she never imagined lurk in the shadows.
Before she can fight for the freedom of her people, she must achieve her own—or die trying.
Hey everyone! FIREDRAGON RISING is out tomorrow! Here's a little sneak peek to when your appetite...
FROM CHAPTER 4: INTO THE WILD
The sinister droning of the patrolmen’s motorbikes behind her suddenly swelled, the noise crashing over her like a wave. They must have turned a corner, navigating around the buildings that had filtered the sound before. That meant they were closing in on her. She was sure that if she were to look back, she would see their shadowy figures, but she resisted the urge to glance over her shoulder. At this speed, she needed to keep both eyes forward or risk crashing.
And none of the patrolmen activated their alarms, which meant they hadn’t yet realizedshe was their target. But if they tried to signal her as one of their own, she wouldn’t know how to respond. She pushed against the handlebar, though her vehicle couldn’t go any faster, and wished she could will it into accelerating.
Spotting an intersection ahead, she made the snap decision to turn left, and her knee briefly scraped the ground as the motorbike veered at an abrupt angle. Maybe that would throw her pursuers off. Maybe it was a dead giveaway that she wasn’t who they thought she was. Either way, it seemed like a better idea than going in a straight line.
She got her answer about three seconds later, when a trio of loud, wailing noises ripped through the darkness—the patrolmen’s alarms. Activating them meant they’d spotted their target and were alerting the others to their location. Cold sweat broke over her brow, and she cursed herself for her mistake. That was so stupid! I should’ve known better!
Gritting her teeth, she shoved the thoughts out of her head. She didn’t have time to worry about how she’d screwed up—she had to fix it. Focusing on her ears, she tried to detect the noise of motorbike engines beneath the blaring sirens. That would tell her where her pursuers were, at least. She didn’t hear anything from the road ahead of her, which meant she still had a chance at escaping before the ones behind her caught up. Another intersection was coming up fast, and the street to her right would be parallel to the one she’d been traveling down. That meant it would be a straight shot to the perimeter.
She barreled around the corner, almost tipping her vehicle in the process. As she straightened her course, she heard more sirens join the commotion. Back up for the patrolmen had arrived, then, but she wasn’t giving up yet. The silver haze marking the edge of the city was once again visible ahead, and if she could make it past the perimeter before they found her, then she had a fighting chance.
Sinister plots. An underground rebellion. And a treacherous road filled with monsters and enemies unknown.
It's been three months since Aurelia survived the International Challenge—an elite monster-fighting competition. And the Triumvirate has been keeping a close eye on her ever since … as if they expect her to cause them more trouble.
They’re right.
Now that she knows about the underground revolution—and the dark secrets of her own past—Aurelia is hell-bent on escaping the government’s watchful gaze and joining the rebels. Finally, she’s found a cause worth fighting for. A way for her kind, the Norms, to take back their freedom.
Then, when she overhears a Triumvirate official’s conversation, she learns that it’s even worse than she realized. The government knows about the rebels, and the rebellion. They’re searching for people who sympathize with the cause. And they’re coming after her next.
Suddenly the time for dreaming about the rebellion is over. Aurelia must make contact with the rebels and plot a quick escape … before the Triumvirate has a chance to capture her. But government forces and miles of monster-filled wilderness stand between her and the rebel headquarters, and dangers she never imagined lurk in the shadows.
Before she can fight for the freedom of her people, she must achieve her own—or die trying.
