Browsing Tag

boosting the signal

Boosting the Signal: Wreck of the Nebula Dream, by Veronica Scott

Veronica Scott is one of my fellow authors from the Here Be Magic crowd at Carina Press! She writes the Egyptian Gods series for Carina, but she’s also got some indie work, and this post is about one of those! Wreck of the Nebula Dream is SF adventure with a side helping of romance, and if you’re a fan of the lore of the Titanic sinking, you may well find this book to your tastes–because it draws a lot of inspiration from that. This book won awards in 2013, and got a lot of highly favorable commentary from the SFR (science fiction romance) community.

You don’t need to stretch much to figure out what her hero’s goal is in this story: save lives. Check it out!

Wreck of the Nebula Dream

Captain Nick Jameson, Sectors Special Forces, reporting as ordered for the interview. I don’t usually talk about that time on the Nebula Dream–I think pretty much everyone in the Sectors knows the story of how she was the newest, most luxurious spaceliner ever built, destroyed on her maiden voyage, with a huge loss of life. I happened to be the right guy, in the wrong place – what was a solder like me doing hobnobbing with the rich and high powered on such a ship, you may ask? Asked myself that, more than once on the first few days of the voyage. Usually when I was getting drunk in my cabin, trying to blot out the memories of my last disaster of a mission. If the ship’s Second Officer hadn’t given me a tour, trying to impress me with the new tech, if I hadn’t met Mara Lyrae, first on the shuttle and then again in the Casino…well, I might have opted for finishing the trip in cryo sleep and then where would we all be? Dead or worse, that’s where.

Mara’s pretty amazing. She was a Vice President for Loxton Galactic Shipping at the time, doing big business deals, wheeling and dealing across the Sectors. But the moment the ship was in trouble, she was right there, brave as any soldier I ever served with, ready to do what had to be done to save lives. I tried to get her off in a lifeboat right after the crash but she wasn’t having any of that, no, sir. Mara is stubborn. There were some kids trapped in a cabin close to hers up on the next level and she wasn’t leaving the Nebula Dream without them. We had some pretty tense moments rescuing them, let me tell you.

Couldn’t have done it without Khevan, member of the D’nvannae Brotherhood. He’s just as scary smart and strong as the legends say those guys are, with a healthy dose of spooky stuff going on between him and the Red Lady his order serves. I don’t know if she’s a goddess or an alien or what she is, but she came through when we needed her. Of course then she tried to kill poor Khevan because she was mad at him but that’s another story. Talk to him about that.

Then there was Twilka, the Socialite. I gotta say I thought Twilka was going to be dead weight for my little group. Worse than the two kids! Spoiled rich girl, totally in her own version of reality, went off looking for her jewelry when we had to risk going down into the hold to find some gear I needed. But, she did pull her weight later when events demanded she step up. I’ve got no complaints about her and if she ever needs my help, I’ll be there.

Lady Damais? I uh, I still can’t talk about her, not in any detail. What she did for me, for all of us that night on the Nebula Dream, well, there are no words. I know she was an old lady, pretty ill by all the signs, but she had more guts than many a soldier I’ve served with.

So those were the people I was directly responsible for, while we were running around the Nebula Dream that night. The AI was trying to hold her together for me, maintain air and artificial gravity levels where I needed to be. My challenges? Find my gear, call for help, keep us alive till help arrived, fight off the enemy forces that showed up, ask Mara to have dinner with me if we actually did survive…yeah, long night. Not to mention various other surprises and developments that kept getting thrown at us. If only there’d been enough lifeboats. Lot of “if only” about the wreck.

Later some reporter told me about a shipwreck in ancient times, on Old Earth, where a lot of good people didn’t make it either. The Titanic, I think? Looked it up one day, sounds like her officers and a lot of brave people did the best they could too, against overwhelming circumstances. Freezing ocean or freezing outer space, innocent men, women and children in harm’s way, too many lost.

The story for WRECK OF THE NEBULA DREAM, a 2013 SFR Galaxy Award and Laurel Wreath Winner:

Traveling unexpectedly aboard the luxury liner Nebula Dream on its maiden voyage across the galaxy, Sectors Special Forces Captain Nick Jameson is ready for ten relaxing days, and hoping to forget his last disastrous mission behind enemy lines. All his plans vaporize when the ship suffers a wreck of Titanic proportions. Captain and crew abandon ship, leaving the 8000 passengers stranded without enough lifeboats and drifting unarmed in enemy territory. Aided by Mara, Nick must find a way off the doomed ship for himself and other innocent people before deadly enemy forces reach them or the ship’s malfunctioning engines finish ticking down to self destruction.

But can Nick conquer the demons from his past that tell him he’ll fail these innocent people just as he failed to save his Special Forces team? Will he outpace his own doubts to win this vital race against time?

Follow the Author On: Facebook | Twitter | Official site

April 11, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: The Guardian’s Witch, by Ruth A. Casie

Ruth A. Casie is one of my fellow authors at Carina Press! She writes paranormal romance, and in this particular instance, we’re looking at a historical that features a heroine with second sight and healing powers. Since I do read historicals, particularly if there’s a touch of paranormal, this book of hers from last year was already on my radar to check out. Ruth sent me a character interview, and in it, I feel that her hero does a very clear job of expressing his goals!

And I gotta admit, I like that cover.

The Guardian’s Witch

The Inside Scoop

Ah, there you are and just in time. Thank you for coming, I knew you wouldn’t want to miss this. We’ve pulled a real coup. Let me give you a little background before they begin. Our investigative reporter is about to hold an interview with the hero, Lord Alex, and heroine, Lady Lisbeth, of Ruth A. Casie’s book, The Guardian’s Witch. I see they are about to begin. I’ll fill you in on their story when the interview is over.

Reporter: (Facing the audience) Welcome and good afternoon. Today’s guests are Lord Alex Stelton, the exceptional knight who put his life on the line for the woman he loves. Also here is his extraordinary wife, Lady Lisbeth. She too was willing to risk it all–to save the man she loves.

Alex Stelton is the seventh son of Lord and Lady Stelton. Alex’s father is also a seventh son, an oddity that arises in the Stelton family from time to time. Lady Lisbeth and her younger sister Laura survive their parents, Lord and Lady Reynolds, who were lost to us in a terrible carriage accident, and their brother, Richard. Richard died valiantly on the Welsh battlefield.
(Turning to his guests) Thank you both for taking time to talk to us today. The first question I have is for Lord Alex.

Alex: Please, call me Alex.

Reporter: Certainly. Alex, what was your first impression of Lisbeth?

Alex: I’m embarrassed to tell you.

Lisbeth: He avoided me for weeks.

Alex: (Taking Lisbeth’s hand.) That’s not quite correct. You made it perfectly clear that you wanted no part of me. As a matter of fact I got a very clear impression that you would’ve been quite happy if I had disappeared like the others the king sent to protect you.

Lisbeth: Well, what did you expect? You came marching into Glen Kirk all proud and self-important just like all the others.

Alex: (Raising an eyebrow to his wife.) Did I now?

Lisbeth: (A bit contrite.) Well, maybe not exactly like them. (She pulls her hand away from his and faces him.) How was I to know?

Reporter: (Cough.) How did this disagreement start?

Lisbeth: He didn’t tell me for weeks.

Reporter: I beg your pardon. What didn’t Alex tell you for weeks? (Looking at Alex the reporter notices him squirm, just a bit.)

Lisbeth: He didn’t tell me we were married.

Reporter: Married? I don’t understand?

Alex: Wait a minute, Love. You didn’t exactly make it easy.

Lisbeth: Love— (She shoots Alex a glance that could turn him into a pillar of salt.)

Alex: (Alex faces the reporter) I won a bet with King James. If I held Lisbeth’s Glen Kirk Castle safe for one year it would be mine. Having an estate of my own has been a goal of mine for some time.

Lisbeth: (Foot tapping.)

Alex: (Rakes his hand through his hair.) After meeting my part of the bargain, I went to London to collect my winnings and ended proxy wed to Lady Lisbeth by order of the king.

Reporter: He what? And you didn’t tell her for weeks?

Lisbeth: (Folding her arms in front of her glaring at Alex.) Exactly.

Reporter: Perhaps we should move on. Lisbeth, I understand you come from a long line of healers and that you are quite gifted. My sources tell me you’ve used that gift to save Alex more than once.

Lisbeth: (A humbled look crosses her face.) Yes, I work hard to keep the people I love safe.

Reporter: (Shows Lisbeth a charm.) I understand you place these charms in the trees around Glen Kirk.

Alex: (Takes the charms from the interviewer.) My wife has a notion that the pretty bits shine and distract. (He gave the reporter a cold stare.)

Reporter: I understand there are rumors that your wife… uses incantations—

Alex: (Stands dragging Lisbeth with him.) This interview is over.

Reporter: (Obviously upset.) I’m sorry m’lord. I meant no disrespect to your wife or you. But sir, your wife’s special talents are common knowledge far and wide. It is to be honored, sir, not reviled as some may think.

Alex: I clearly told your man that those questions were not to be asked.

Reporter: M’lord, Alex, this woman was ready to risk everything for you. She was in the midst of conjuring up the true criminal responsible for the treason for which you were accused. She was using her magic in front of the king and his court, all to protect you. Surely you know what a grave risk she was taking.

Alex: Don’t you think I know that? (Alex takes his wife in his arms.) I cringe each time I think of how close she came to being judged a witch and the consequences that would have been metered out.

Lisbeth: Alex, (she pulls gently away from his embrace) come sit down. No harm was meant, surely you know that. (She pats his arm.)

Alex: (Regaining his composure.) I will not dwell on it, Lisbeth. I will protect you always.

Lisbeth: Yes, Alex. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But all here know who and what I am. There is no longer a need to hide that I am a witch.

Reporter: We have a little more time. Alex, I understand that your wife is very talented. Her dreams of the future appear to come true.

Alex: (He looks at his wife and does all he can to contain his smile.) My wife has many talents. Her dreams are–exceptional.

Lisbeth: Shhh Alex.(She leans close to him.) No one else will understand.

Alex: (Totally forgetting the reporter for the moment.) You call me into your dreams and we… Faith, (A smoldering look passes between them and he rakes his hand through his hair.) I want to spend the rest of my life in your dreams…

Reporter: Well, thank you both very much. (Pulling on his shirt collar.) Is it warm in here? (The reporter turns to the audience) You can find out more about Lord Alex and Lady Lisbeth in The Guardian’s Witch by Ruth A. Casie. More information follows this interview.

Buy the Book: Carina Press | Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo

Follow the Author On: ruthacasie.com | Blogspot | Twitter | Facebook | Pinterest

March 28, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: The Guardian Circle Series, by Isabelle Santiago

Isabelle Santiago is another fellow former Drollerie author, who’s taken the series she previously published with Drollerie and re-packaged it on her own to sell–much like I did with Faerie Blood, in fact! She’s about to drop Book 3 of this series, and so the piece she’s sent me for Boosting the Signal is meant to tie Book 2 and Book 3 together, using the POV of a minor secondary character.

The series is YA fantasy with some romantic elements, so if you’re a YA fan, I hope you’ll consider checking these out!

The Guardian’s Mark

His dreams were a strange kaleidoscope of colors. A touch of the rainbow broken into pieces of shattered glass. It took her a while to realize they were actually gemstones–cut, carved and shaped by his loving hands. When she went deeper, further into his subconscious, she found a world she could get lost in, a place of rolling green hills and rich brown earth. A mountain range decorated the horizon and the blue sky stretched as far as eternity.

His world smelled of earth and bark and iron. There was a hut, his own private little place at the very end of the dirt road, past the little village with stone cottages and wooden roofs. Within it, she found a scorching, suffocating heat.

Items forged by his own powerful hands hung from the walls. Intricate swords with gemstone-crusted hilts. Sculptures and vases crafted of clay, heated and glazed. Jewelry with stones in every color, hanging like wind-chimes, glistening in the sunlight that broke through the small window.

He stood at the far end, his naked back to her, the strong curve of his dark shoulders angled as he rolled a glowing, golden ball of molten glass across the table with a blowpipe. He looked like some sort of god, his back and arms streaked in cinders, glistening with sweat as he sculpted and formed something so delicate, so beautiful.

There was a kind of purity to his mind, one that she had yet to find in any of the other Guardians. His memories were not polluted by remorse or jealousy, unrequited love or the burden of unwanted destiny. The walls of his dreamscape seemed infinite, as though his soul had no bounds, and just as clear as the cooling glass, as the very Air she personified.

She smiled. He was everything she’d expected and more. Much more.

He turned, sensing the breeze, and put down his tools.

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

He took a step toward her, a flare of recognition in his molten gold eyes, though they had never met. And when he stopped right before her, her breath caught, just a moment, in her chest.

The Guardian’s Choice

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, feeling foolish. Her cheeks flushed warm.

“Yes,” he said, on an exhaled breath. He reached out to take her hand.

Her skin was a pale, translucent alabaster, compared to his dark, sun-kissed brown. Her hands were soft and small, looking delicate and frail in comparison to his, so large and callous. He twined his fingers with hers, pressed his hot palm to her cool one, and looked into her eyes as though he saw her very soul.

Air blew between them and around them, caressing their hair, dancing through their arms, pushing them together. Two halves of a whole, separated for so long. Earth and Air, united like the earth and the sky in that distant place on the horizon.

He smiled. “I’m glad to finally meet you,” he said, and that shy, earnest look on his face warmed every part of her. “I’ve waited for you for a very long time.”

“So have I,” she said, wilting in return. “So have I.”

***

She watched him work from the shadows, hidden within her Element, exploring him as she could not in flesh. Her stomach fluttered, a cluster of butterflies scurrying to break free. He pounded at the red-hot metal of a steel blade with a large mallet, his naked back and shoulders slick with sweat. She traced the ancient script of his Mark with her eyes, from his neck down the length of his spine, stark black against the warm caramel of his flushed, sun-kissed skin.

His muscles tightened with each mallet swing. The four walls of the tiny, sweltering workshop quivered, ready to buckle, to bow to his power.

Bianca glanced at the room she’d long committed to memory–a room that had felt like a glimpse into his brilliant soul, full of trinkets made of blown glass and gemstones, carved of marble or stone, forged through fire.

Now, she noticed suddenly, those trinkets were gone. Cluttered with tools and raw materials, the room still felt bare, devoid of the life its craftsman had once breathed into its walls, giving them color and depth.

Something was wrong. Something had changed since they last spoke.

The Guardian’s Fall

Enki turned as though he heard her thoughts. She startled. A dark bruise marred his jaw below his cheekbone. A red gash split the corner of his full lips. Bianca gasped, losing her cover, materializing before him.

“I thought it was you,” he whispered, his mouth tilting into the ghost of a smile. He removed his work gloves and placed them on the table behind him. “I can always tell when you’ve appeared. You bring the smell of springtime and sunflowers wherever you go.”

“Enki,” she breathed out, taking a careful step in his direction, unable to rip her gaze from the unsettling nature of his bruises.

“I have missed our meetings greatly,” he said and she saw the truth of it in the molten amber of his eyes.

“What happened?”

“I tried to save her,” he said, but his thoughts were far away and his voice was soft and haunted. “I tried to save her but I failed.”

“Who? Who did you try saving?”

He looked away, clutching the edges of the table to steady himself. “Much has changed since we last met.”

Bianca swallowed hard, holding back tears, mourning days spent in the shed talking of sunflower fields and freedom or of a grandiose courtyard in the shadow of a glittering marble temple. It all came back to her at once, the smell of coal and fire on his skin, the warm sunshine coming through the open shutters of his windows. His smile; so earnest, so true.

They’d shared the entirety of their lives here between these four small walls, filled in the spaces where their paths had diverted so they could reunite and be as they were meant to, Earth and Air, two halves made whole.

“It doesn’t have to be different,” she said, desperate, letting Air caress his skin.

“But it is. And I’m afraid the things I’ve done have carved a hollow I cannot refill.”

Her heart broke for him, for the innocence lost, for the boy she’d first met and the tattered remains of the man that replaced him. His soul was still pure at its core, but she felt the differences in him, swallowing him.

The violence. The guilt. The regret.

She should have known. It was only a matter of time before this World got him too.

“I’m sorry, Bianca.” He broke, and she wrapped her arms around him then, breathing in his scent, letting her Element cradle and soothe him. “I am not the man you knew. I have the blood of many men on my hands. It sings to me from within the soil. Reminding me. Cursing me.”

“What have you done?” she asked him, clutching him tighter, wishing just this once that she was as solid as he felt.

“I tried to save her,” he repeated. “But I failed.”

Buy the Books: Book 1 – The Guardian’s Mark |
Book 2 – The Guardian’s Choice | Book 3 – The Guardian’s Fall, available March 31

Follow the Author On: Facebook | Twitter | http://twistedfairytale.net/

March 21, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: In the Course of Diplomacy, by Robert A. Boyd

Robert A. Boyd is a fellow member of the Northwest Writers Association, and if you like your science fiction from non-human points of view, you may well want to check him out. Though for reasons that will be obvious to anyone who’s read Faerie Blood, I did snerk at the mention of Elvis Worshippers!

In the Course of Diplomacy

In The Course Of Diplomacy
by,
C’traBenla, rani D’enta
(Translated via the Ic’nichi Embassy, Geneva)

I am so delighted to speak again with all my dear friends there on earth, especially now that the Contact Crisis seems to be winding down, and relations are improving between d’enchia and earth. Those were some troubling times; times when war seemed all too likely, and distrust and paranoia were rampant on both sides. I don’t think any of us realized before then how traumatic First Contact could be!

Thankfully the Arbiters were able to work through the tensions and forge the beginnings of a lasting peace between our two worlds. The diplomatic effort (which I had a small part in) was fraught with problems, personal conflicts, political tensions, and—it must be said—the gyrations of some of your less stable folks such as the Anti-techs and the Elvis Worshippers. Yet through it all, through the misunderstandings and shortages and broken water mains, we managed to limp on. Our tails dragged at times, surely, but we came through.

I’m sure the Arbiters won’t approve (K’deiTai can be such a spoil-sport at times!), but I want to make an appeal to all you good folks there in the Alliance Of Nations. Diplomacy is a herd effort, and so much goes on in the background which the public never sees, but which can shape the destiny of whole civilizations. Fortunately, now that the crisis is passing, the story is starting to come out in a trilogy of recently published books, translated to human language, which tell the real saga of what went on behind the scenes; although that ‘muck-raking expose’ cheap shot is terribly unfair.

Hey, I’m not perfect. We all have our awkward moments, don’t we? And it doesn’t help that the cultural differences between our two races can be so confusing at times. Why make such a fuss over that fire at the Defense Ministry, I ask you? And why all the fuss over that little misunderstanding which almost led to the embassy being evacuated, or the time I blackmailed the Chancellor…but I suppose I shouldn’t talk about that even now.

The point is, even if I am impulsive and hot-tempered (as some unkind souls would tell you) I have the best intentions in all the Universe. And a lot of what happened wasn’t my fault. Can I be blamed for the entire fleet being put out of commission when I went into labor? I mean, really!

No matter. What I’m trying to say is that the real story of our diplomatic effort with you humans remains largely untold, and this new trilogy will go a long way to improving understanding all around, and thus improving relations between d’enchia and earth. I hope all you good people who cherish peaceful interstellar relations will look into them.

In The Course Of Diplomacy (Part 1)
Diplomacy’s Stepchild: The Dreamsingers’ War (Part 2)
Diplomacy’s End: The d’enchia Incident (Part 3)

You can find them through our human distributor:

The Written Wyrd
http://www.the-written-wyrd.org/index.shtml
http://thewrittenwyrd.livejournal.com/
Or through Amazon.com.
Or at Norwescon and Orycon

Thank you all for your time and interest. Well, I have to go now. I’eiBida will be home soon, and I just know he’ll be upset when I tell him about my latest misadventure!

C’traBenla

Buy the Book: The Written Wyrd | Amazon

Follow the Author On: Livejournal

March 21, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: First Daughter, by Caitlin Claire Diehl

Caitlin Claire Diehl is a fellow member of the Northwest Independent Writers Association, and it’s through NIWA that I first heard about her novel First Daughter. It’s on my queue to read, and I look forward to getting to know Caitlin and her work better!

First Daughter

You must help me! My mother, the Queen, is ill, bespelled by some sorcery that has left her insensible, removed from the cares of her people, of her only daughter. I am only an apprentice Web Weaver and can do nothing to help her no matter how many nights I pore over the ancient texts. The magic entrapping her is too strong, even for N’era, the only Keeper of the Web left to us, now that my mother is gone.

The need to free her is urgent, not just for me but for our land. Dark Forces stalk our borders and all the Queen Regent, my aunt, wants to do is wave her sword about and look important. I may not be the seer my mother is, but I have glimpsed the Threads that weave the future and I know with all my heart that swords will not defeat our enemy, not this time. Only no one will listen to me, though I am First Daughter to the Queen. My aunt thinks I am too young, too inexperienced to know anything. Sometimes I hate her.

My heart is heavy, grieving for my mother just out of reach, fearful of the danger threatening our land and our people. And I have a secret. Can I tell you? In the dark reaches of the night, in the Great Tapestry that has yet to be woven from the Threads of all our lives, I have glimpsed a golden thread, a young man foreign and strange, that calls to me in a way I have never felt before. Please don’t tell anyone. I have never had time for boys, for what are men but bigger boys?

Without your help, turning the pages of my story, my Threads will never be woven into a Pattern that can save my mother or our people. I will be left here, alone and helpless, poised on the brink of something… some destiny that surges through me and begs to be released in a grand Weaving of such power that nothing ever after will be the same.

Buy the Book: Amazon

Follow the Author On: Facebook

March 14, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: Journey of the Wanderer, by Shawna Thomas

Authors that write fantasy and SF, with or without a side helping of romance, are a bit thin on the ground at Carina Press. Which is why I’m particularly happy to welcome Shawna Thomas to Boosting the Signal. Take it away, Shawna! Or should I say, Shawna’s villain, Bredych? Anybody besides me hear Tom Hiddleston reading this speech, or what?

Journey of the Wanderer

In Bredych’s Words:

Most stories are told from the hero’s point of view. Mine is no different. I have been known by many names, but you may call me Bredych. Have you ever stopped to consider the broader picture? I have. They say history is told by the victor. Well, then, if that is true, who are the heroes? Those with ideals and noble intentions or simply those who have penned the words recounting the tale of what was done and by whom?

Are the heroes those whose ideals have won the day and anyone who challenged them are considered villains?

I have been cast into the role of antagonist. I have been called evil, manipulative, and greedy. It’s a role I accept for now. Not because I think that my ideals, my goals, are less worthy than those who dare oppose me, but because my enemies’ thoughts about me are irrelevant. It changes nothing.

I have worked tirelessly through the years, meticulously placing every player where I need them. I have built and rebuilt my kingdom from the ashes. Some worship me, some love me, and some hate me, but all fear me. Fear is the great motivator. Fear is necessary. After all my goals are noble. I, too, will unite Anatar under one ruler. I will bring peace to the land. I will drag these backwards peasants into the light kicking and screaming if necessary–for their own good.

And Ilythra? Yes, she pretends to be a hero. She plays at nobility and merely speaks of honor and love. But what does she offer that is of use? War? Death? The killing of the innocent? She seeks to reunite the stones, and she calls it justice. Where is the justice in handing all that power over to Ewen and the Siobani? And once the Siobani have it, what then? Will they use it to better mankind? History proves they will not. They chose to disengage, to retreat into legend rather than dirty their hands in human ways. I know. I was there.

I will reunite the stones. I will bring and end to suffering. Anatar will be united under my rule. In the end, all will see that my way is better, including Ilythra. We bear two of the great stones; the Siobani possess only one. If she will not unite with me, then she will fall with them. This is not something I desire–I do not wish to destroy her–but if she continues to oppose me, then it cannot be avoided. Rulers must make hard decisions and cannot let personal feelings cloud their judgment.

I accept the role of villain because history has yet to be written, and I plan to be the one who writes it.

I invite you to read these chronicles and decide for yourselves.

In Shawna’s Words: Excerpt from the Novel:

Bredych approached the map with reverence. He inhaled the scent of ink mixed with smoke from the poorly ventilated fire. A single lamp haloed the ivory surface, lending the map texture and depth as the flame flickered. Without quite touching the thick parchment, he traced the southern coastline with his finger, up across deserts to mountains and valleys. In a very real way, the map represented a lifetime of work, of careful planning. He followed the vivid lines to the far south, where the clans there still worshiped and feared him, up and to the east to Rugia, where the tribesmen feared and hated him. He shrugged. There was little difference really. It was the fear that drove them. In the end, it didn’t matter if he was offered tribute out of adoration or to appease him.

He moved his finger to the west coast. The villages there were unorganized and ineffective. They would be easy prey for the southern clans. Further north, built on a peninsula, the great city of Edriel stood waiting for him to pluck it. Maybe he’d make his seat of government there. He smiled. It had a rich history, he wondered if the king of Edriel knew that the Siobani had built the city and abandoned it with the rest of Anatar to the humans. He reviewed what he knew of King Jaryn. No, he had vast libraries at his disposal but he doubted the king had yet to crack open one book.

To the right of Edriel, across the plains, Bredych had very carefully placed small wooden figurines on several of the larger kingdoms. He stared at each one in turn, remembering the satisfaction of placing the piece there after the kingdom had come under his command. Each king in those places merely waited for his command. Each had been promised a place in his empire. Depending on how they served him in the coming conflict, he’d keep his promise.

He remembered the day he’d been reading through the Siobani histories and found out that he’d been lied to. The Siobani had kept the greater power for themselves. They didn’t use it, but kept the secret locked away from even him, a stone keeper. The elder race had treated him no better than an outsider, a beggar on the street.

That day he had decided to bring them down. To make them grovel at his feet. He clenched his teeth together. And that day was coming.

He wondered what Ilythra would do if she knew Ewen had a way to defeat him and simply refused to use it.

About the Author: Winner of an RT award for her debut novel, Altered Destiny, Shawna Thomas has been writing since she can remember. She currently lives in California with her husband and seven children. When she’s not writing or editing, she’s playing in the garden, developing new desserts or sitting back with a cup of coffee and a good book.

Buy the Book: Carina Press | Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo

Follow the Author On: shawnathomas.com | Blogspot | Twitter | Facebook

March 7, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Main

Day of Signal Boosting! And also news!

So happy Boosting the Signal Premiere Day, y’all! If you haven’t seen ’em already, I’ve got the first two posts up, featuring Genevieve Griffin and Anna Kashina!

Quite excited to give these authors a shot at getting the word out about their work, and I hope y’all will consider giving them a look.

***

And now, additional items to signal boost!

Michael F. Stewart is a fellow former Drollerie author, and he’s got a Kickstarter! He’s writing YA, with zombies. And as y’all know, zombies ARE relevant to my interests!

If they’re relevant to yours, go give him a look and maybe a pledge, mmkay? Do it for Canadian indie science fiction! Do it for Michael! Do it for ZOMBIES.

***

My pal Dejah Leger, about whom I have enthused on this blog more than once, performs with her family under the name La Famille Leger! And they’ve just dropped a brand new shiny album! It’s called L’étoile du nord, and it’s chock full of tasty Acadian music. If you have any interest in French-Canadian trad, you should totally check this out. This is La Famille Leger’s first professionally engineered album, and I’ve listened to it now streaming off of Bandcamp, and whoa and damn it sounds good. I particularly commend to your attention tracks 8 and 12–especially track 12, which contains a tune I’m learning how to play since we’re doing it in session! Come for Dejah’s lovely singing and the wry vocals by her beau-père Louis, as well! Stay for the cracklin’ foot-stompin’ tunes!

The album lives right over here on Bandcamp. And if you can see the embedded player in this post, you can just click right on it! Check it out! And if you like what you hear, give it a buy, won’t you? All that’s stopping me from buying this RIGHT NOW is that I’m buying a physical CD directly from the Legers. But the rest of you out there in Internetland, throw ’em some dollars through Bandcamp and tell ’em I sent you!

<a href="http://lafamilleleger.bandcamp.com/album/letoile-du-nord">L'etoile du nord by La Famille Leger</a>

***

And speaking of awesome French-Canadian music, Dara and I are about to scamper up to Canada for round one of our March musical shenanigans! We’re hitting Festival du Bois, the Francophone music festival in B.C., at which quite a few of my favorite musicians will be performing! Not only the aforementioned La Famille Leger, but also the Yves Lambert trio! Real excited about seeing Monsieur Lambert, since he’s the singer whose lead vocals on La Bottine Souriante way back in 2000 got me hooked on Quebec music in the first place.

And! AND! There will also be Vishtèn! Y’all may recall that Dara and I got to see them in Newfoundland in 2012, and they were awesome, and I am very much looking forward to seeing them again!

Last but most assuredly not least, my boys of De Temps Antan, about whom I have failed to be able to shut up, almost as much as I’ve failed to stop gushing over Le Vent du Nord. ;D

Forecast for this weekend is perfectly ridiculous amounts of fun, and I’ll be roping several friends into attending the shenanigans with us! Best of all Dara and I get to meet up with maellenkleth and siestabear for the De Temps Antan show at St. James Hall–two years and a day after the delightful Le Vent du Nord show at the same venue! Which means that Sunday night will be our second anniversary of getting Canada-married, which means we’ll have not only badass music to enjoy, but an anniversary to celebrate as well! SO AWESOME. \0/

February 28, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

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