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“Star of the County Down”

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Top o’the Mornin’ to you!

I like to post things musical on Mondays. I figure everybody’s spirits can use a little lift, facing into another busy week.

Given that yesterday was St. Patrick’s Day (Did you wear green? I did!) my taste is running toward the Celtic. For me, it’s a pretty short leap from Celtic to the Scotian Realm…which leads me directly to “Star of the County Down.” This is an old Irish folk tune  I claimed as part of the musical heritage of the Scotian Realm–mainly because I had the image of a “girl with nut-brown hair.” I must have heard this song sometime in my life, because I recalled that scrap of lyric. But I had to find it on youtube.com to remember the whole–and it was perfect, because it’s just the kind of song you can sing in haze of drunken glory.

For Keir, the hero of FORGE, this song saves his life at the beginning of the book. Abandoned to die in the lunar transfer station’s waste processing center, he makes enough noise with his lusty rendition of this tune that the izzy (indentured servant) making her rounds decides to investigate before hitting the button and disintegrating the day’s refuse…and him along with it. (Moral of the story: You never know when a song will make your day!)

Here’s the version from a small venue in 1999 by Van Morrison and The Chieftains. Enjoy, and have a wonderful week!

Welcome…Guest Author Robert Roman!

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I’m very pleased to welcome Robert Roman to my blog today. Bob and I have been writing buddies for a while now, and there’s a reason: I enjoy his stories! I’m reading both of his online Juke Pop Serials, and I want to find out how they end, so please…go out and give them votes!

And now, without further ado, here’s Bob:


What do you like to do when you’re not writing?

I’m writing two simultaneous serials at the moment, as well as holding down a full time (645a-445p) teaching job, so the idea of “when I’m not writing” sounds a little silly, but lately my free time has been spent playing Mass Effect 3 with my wife and Pokemon with my son. 

What would you do with a time machine?

I’m a big Doctor Who fan; what wouldn’t I do with a time machine? 

What do you enjoy reading? What’s in your TBR pile?

Of course! I’ve just finished rereading the Wheel of Time series, and I’m waiting to get my hands on the last book. I’ve also just caught up with the Dresden Files, read Redshirts, and started reading the Old Man’s War series. That’s about all that’s in my TBR pile for certain right now. 

What authors have influenced your writing?

Tolkien. Moorcock. Cooper. Weber. Lackey. Ringo. Jordan. Butcher. Westerfeld. Sanderson. Briggs.

Also, and he gets his own paragraph because I am a huge fanboy, Pratchett.

What genre(s) do you write in? What attracts you to it/them?

Ah, the Genre question! I write in Steam Punk, Fantasy (both Urban and Contemporary), Science Fiction and, occasionally, Romance. Much to the dismay of everyone who tries to sell my work, I often do so all at the same time.

I’ve been told by my friend Maureen (and others) that I actually write Horror, but that’s not true. I…just frequently find myself using the elements of Horror when writing my fiction. I think the reason I do that is because Horror, like Romance, evokes such visceral reactions, whereas the stereotypical Science Fiction or Fantasy story evokes very ephemeral, intellectual reactions, and sometimes those just aren’t what I’m going for. Fantasy and Science fiction both have the potential to show very vivid, moving things, and I try to do that. Sometimes I even succeed.

I’ve also been told I write humor, only not really. Some said I take all of the elements of a completely over the top, campy humor story and then write them completely seriously. Which, if you think about it, may be another place the Horror comes from.

What’s your day job? Does it affect your writing?

I’m a teacher, and it does. First and foremost, it takes up an enormous amount of raw time. I mentioned the 645 to 445 schedule before, and that’s before any time spent grading papers, preparing lessons, or anything like that. The extra time mostly goes to working with my students in a mentor capacity. I work at an Urban school, and a lot of the kids don’t have any adults they trust. I figure for every non-school question I answer, that’s another few minutes (hours? days?) they have to spend thinking about school stuff.

On the other hand, my students inspire me. I see kids walking to school every single day with no coat, and I’ve found out later they’re doing it because there’s no one at home to buy them a coat, because “home” is an abandoned building. When a kid like that is making it to school every day, I have no excuse why I can’t spend an hour writing every day.

Also, some of my students are just such… characters. For example, if ever one of my characters says “made me feel some kinda way,” one of my students (she knows who she is, and she’s a “Genius!”) is directly responsible.

Note…Bob didn’t mention it here, but if you go out to his website, you’ll see that he plans to split half the money he earns from writing between his school science lab and his student Anime, SF, Game & Writing Club. You can help just by reading and voting for his online Juke Pop serials (fun, easy & free!) Check out http://www.robertcroman.com/ to learn more.

Tell us about your new release.

One of my two current serials is Blank, a Young Adult Space Opera. It’s an ongoing YA serial, so a hard wordcount isn’t available, but I expect it to wind up around 70,000 words. It’s the first in a three book planned series.

Describe the hero &/or heroine in three words each. What two words best sum up their relationship?

– Dustie (the Heroine) – Focused, Haunted, Conflicted
– Tomas (Hero #1 (there’s always a love triangle)) – Solid, Prepared, Considerate
– Guy (Hero #2) – Dashing, Snarky, Secretive
– Dustie & Tomas – Cyrano, Roxanne
– Dustie & Guy – Primal, Misunderstood

Who is your favorite character from this book? (Can you include an excerpt involving this character?)

Dustie, definitely.
(See below for excerpt.)

What other titles do you have published? (Please include a brief sentence or two about each.)

– Blue Bloods Everyday heroes gifted with superpowers in the wake of global catastrophe!
– The Strange Fate of Capricious Jones – A mother is betrayed at 30,000 feet, a motherless daughter finds peril in the middle of a war. Steam (Diesel Steam) Punk!.
– A Christmas Evening Vigil – Sequel to Cap Jones. Leigh Abrams comes into her own. Steam Punk Christmas Sweet Military Romance with Heroic Cyborg Zombies and Skateboarding Diesel Powered Giant Mecha.
– Road Mage – A handicapped mage with a checkered past must fight against an evil sorcerer everyone else thinks is a hero (strong language)
– Fae Eye for the Golem Guy – Micah Slate has fallen for Ophilia Morgan, but she doesn’t know he exists. Leave it to his Pixie Godfather to make things right! (Adults Only, some explicit scenes.)
– What Not to Fear – Sequel to Fae Eye. Michaela Miles is a fallen angel trying to make her way as a police officer. Her new partner, George Matthew Franklin, (Micah and Ophilia’s godson) isn’t making that any easier, and the demon stalking the town is just the icing on the cake. Pixie Godfathers to the rescue again! (Adults Only, some explicit scenes.)

Where can my readers find you?

www.robertcroman.com

Where can my readers find your books?

– Blank (free, but please vote!) – https://www.jukepopserials.com/home/read/73/
– Blue Bloods (free, but please vote!) – https://www.jukepopserials.com/home/read/74/
– The Strange Fate of Capricious Jones – http://www.amazon.com/Strange-Capricious-Jones-Angel-ebook/dp/B0043EVBJI/
– A Christmas Evening Vigil – http://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Evening-Vigil-Angel-ebook/dp/B004EEPNQE/
– Road Mage – http://www.amazon.com/Road-Mage-ebook/dp/B00408A6RU/
– Fae Eye for the Golem Guy – http://www.amazon.com/Fae-Eye-Golem-Artifice-ebook/dp/B003ZDO3NY/
– What Not to Fear – http://www.amazon.com/What-Not-Fear-Artifice-ebook/dp/B0058V1QLI/

~~~Excerpt~~~

I stood transfixed, staring at the beautiful, deadly armor at the far end of the bay, until the sound of a throat clearing startled me out of my reverie. I turned to face the young man I assumed was the Middie First, a little surprised that my clone father’s memories hadn’t sparked at the sight of the Dragon armor. I opened my mouth to report, and a thousand images washed over me. Grace, her hair a living beacon of red and gold. Her augments, green fire crackling across her skin, frying ‘Sect and ‘Mech and Vulg’ alike, no matter which dared touch her. Her armor, viper fast, incalculably strong, and powered by the captured heart of a collapsed star, flashing scarlet and gold in the light of a dying ‘Sect dreadnaught.

“Ow!”

I came back to myself at the Middie First’s deep bass bark. I gripped his left hand in my right, squeezing across the palm in a crusher grip, holding it centimeters from my shoulder. By the look of him, he could have broken the hold without trying, but for some reason he was just staring at me. With arms that thick and a chest that broad, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he could break me in half at the waist. A quick glance at his armor, gaping open like a steamed clam, corrected my earlier mistake. He wasn’t piloting training armor, he was piloting a suit of heavily reinforced combat armor with absolutely no decoration, just the gray on white of a unit assigned to a school ship. I looked back at him, only to find him staring pointedly at my fingers gripping his hand.

“Sorry.” I let go of him, pulling my hand behind my back. Trying to make amends, I nodded toward his armor. “That looks really durable.”

He grinned, shaking his hand as he did so. I knew I hadn’t really hurt him, but it was nice of him to act like it. “Thanks. I’m gonna major in Armoring when I make Senior.” Despite his grin, he didn’t meet my eye. Instead he gestured to the EVA suit. “Commandant DeLann is waiting.”

I took First Officer Quick’s hint and got myself into the suit. When my sopping wet dress uniform stuck in one of the sleeves, the First grabbed it and pulled it up over my arm. One limb at a time, he helped me force the EVA suit on over my recalcitrant uniform. Finally he pulled the seal shut on the front. He tried to anyway. He stopped with one hand on each lapel, looking anywhere but my breasts. I sighed, grabbed the lapels away from him, and forced the seals shut. He moved to pull the helmet over my head, but I brushed him away and seated it myself.

The moment the helmet sealed, the world went silent save for my own breath and the quiet squish of sodden fabric. The First blushed and stepped away. He backed into his armor, slamming his arms into the forearm grips as he did. It closed over him, the armored plates, long curved claw-arms and short, powerful legs giving it almost crab-like appearance.

I hadn’t done much EVA work in the Rim Fleet. Out on the edge, we practiced for powered armor combat, but we mostly thought anyone who came all the way from another galaxy with a fight in mind would be riding in something that would take serious ship-based weapons to deal with. I’d have to get used to the way the rest of the Imperial Fleets relied on their Armor for just about everything. Without a set of armor of my own, I was stuck in an EVA suit like a little kid or a Civ.

The First finished his preflight and reached out with one big, claw-like hand to pick me up. I stiffened at being treated like a child, but the bay was already venting to vacuum. With no air in the room his externals wouldn’t pick it up if I shouted at him, and he hadn’t opened a com line. All I could do was fume quietly while he carried me to the bay door.

Once we left the bay, the view washed my anger clean away. Stars like a solid, glowing belt arced across the endless black of space. Beauty warred with claustrophobia somewhere in my gut, and despite all I’d been through today, beauty was winning. Before I could soak it all in, the First engaged his armor’s drives, turning us about and pushing us away from the bay. After a minute or so, we spun about and there, like a huge buckle on the broad belt of the Milky Way, my new home glowed brilliant red and gold.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

I hadn’t heard the click of the com line opening, and for a moment I was too overwhelmed by the stars and ship to reply. My claustrophobia was fighting a heroic delaying action in the pit of my stomach, but my heart was racing and my eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. I wanted nothing more than to stay right here ogling the splendor of the stars and my new home among them.

Yeah, EVA is like that.
~~~

Thanks, Bob, for visiting today. I’m looking forward to the next installments of Blank and Blue Bloods on Juke Pop Serials…so keep writing those chapters! Meanwhile, I’m gonna go hide the keys to the TARDIS.

SFR Brigade Presents…FORGE

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Welcome! I’m glad to have you stop by this corner of “SFR Brigade Presents…”

So you think you’re having a bad day? Imagine waking up from a nightmare of enslavement…in jail. With no idea how you got there, or even who you are. You’re “Tazhret”…”Nameless.” You’ve been accused of being a drug addict–because they found you rocketed on an illegal hallucinogen. And now, you’re about to be turned into an indentured servant–an izzy. You’d probably be looking for a lifeline, too. Someone–even if she might be only the product of your drug-fueled hallucinations–who tells you what you most need to hear….

~~~Excerpt~~~

Rough hands hauled him off the cot. Dizzied, he stumbled between the deputies, his steps dragging out of the cell, across the back of a large room crowded with desks, toward an oversized, dull-metal armchair, covered with straps. He stopped short on a hard gasp. The deputies pushed him forward.

“Move along, Tazhret,” the chief constable ordered. “This is your simplest path to a fresh start—”

Tazhret erupted into sudden violence, twisting out of the deputies’ grasp, jamming his elbows into their guts. They doubled over. A right cross to the chief’s jaw rocked the Tormin back.

Tazhret ran. Ran toward the exit, almost flying in light gravity. Must be on a lunar transfer station—

The electric hammer of a hurled shockstick hit him in the back of his head, fried his nerves, and plunged him back into darkness. Chains waited for him there, and an evil master. And a woman with nut-brown hair, who whispered, “You have a name.”

Hope you enjoyed your visit!

Buy FORGE.

Return to SFR Brigade Presents.

SFR Brigade Presents…

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Welcome! I’m glad to have you stop by this corner of “SFR Brigade Presents…”

For my first appearance here, I’ve got a snippet from my first book: “FORGE: Book I of the Thrall Web Series.”

Brief set-up: Keir–once a “half-starved izzy, mostly a lump of scars inside and out”– is now fully healed. In command of his talent, he leads the effort to save the planet Forge from cataclysm. As the first step, he must establish, on the psychic plane, a rapport with the woman who healed him. The same woman who has haunted his dreams since he first lost his name, his talent, and all his former life. (Nica’s full name has been deleted in order to reduce the spoiler-lishness of the clip….)

The scar down the left side of his face throbbed with the beat of his racing heart, as the healer raised her hand and laid it over the old wound. Avatar-to-avatar…and yet his skin warmed to her touch. Trinity, she was so close, he could kiss—

She took his hand, pulled up his sleeve, and showed him his wrist, with its wide, white scar—now pulsing with a golden glow.

“Keir, what…?” She brushed the tip of one finger across the remnant of his shackles.

Keir’s skin tingled. His heart skipped a beat, only to pound still faster with the desire to touch her in return. She was no longer a phantasm woven of scoot hallucinations and desperate hope. She was there, flesh-and-blood on the physical plane—there on the energy plane where thoughts and emotions took on the solidity of rock. With the embodiment of his dreams before him, Keir reined in his yearning heart. Nica he could have loved with honor. [The lady healer-adept] was beyond his touch. He gently reclaimed his hand, tugging the sleeve over the shimmering scar.

“I wear the gift of a healer’s touch, milady, and have mended well.”

Buy FORGE here.
~120k words. Semi-sweet. Epic adventure.

Thank you for stopping by! Return to SFR Brigade.

 

Review: “Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance” by Lois McMaster Bujold

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Captain Vorpatril's AllianceCaptain Vorpatril’s Alliance by Lois McMaster Bujold

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The e-ARC had the usual skips and errors, so of course I’ll be reading the official release, too.

The Vorkosigan saga is unique in its memorable characters, and the kind of tales it takes to tell their stories. In some ways, “Captain Vorpatril’s Alliance” consolidates most of the major events of the Vorkorverse, seen from a very different point of view.

The long-standing supporting character, Ivan Vorpatril, finally gets his turn in the spotlight. Ivan lives the life of a smarter moth. Standing too close to the Barrayaran throne for his own comfort, no way does he want to fly close enough to the fire to go up in flames. But he often gets dragged into scrapes–interstellar scrapes–as the unwilling foil to his cousin Miles’ manic schemes. This time, Miles doesn’t drag him into trouble; neither is he around to pull Ivan out of the fire. And it was kind of weird reading a Vorkosigan tale without Miles in it except as a domesticated husband and father…weird, but an enjoyable grace note to the story.

No, this time it’s By Vorrutyer’s scheme that disrupts Ivan’s peaceful life as the promotion-avoiding aide de camp of the Barrayaran military’s ops chief. But for the sake of the girl and Barrayar, Ivan rises to the occasion, as he’s done in the past despite his inclination to fly under the radar. In doing so, we get an interesting peek at Ivan’s lingering demons, the truth behind his suave facade. Hey, despite his usual nonchalant attitude, he’s gotta have a few, growing up on Barrayar in interesting times with Miles as a cousin.

I’m not quite sure why Bujold chose to place this book before “Cryoburn,” and I don’t know why that bothers me so much. Perhaps because I want the Vorkoverse to keep moving forward. Although I’ll admit the tone of the book is happier than might have been possible in Cryoburn’s aftermath. Happier, but also retrospective. The characters have all grown up, done wonders and marvels, made mistakes, and learned from it. Even Ivan. I can’t help but wonder (or is that hope?) that having given us a glimpse of life going reasonably well for the main characters, Bujold is cooking up another major challenge for her incredible cast of characters in the near future. Using Bujold’s maxim of the “worst possible thing,” possibilities are boiling in the back of my mind, but mentioning them would involve spoilers, so…hmmm.

Why four stars? More than a bit unfairly, I’m rating a Bujold book against Bujold’s body of work. There’s a reason Bujold is my favorite author. Her best stories are…spectacular. As much as I enjoyed reading this, CVA isn’t “Shards of Honor,” “Memory,” or “A Civil Campaign.” So call the CVA rating a “Four Stars with Palm” for filling in the spaces in a really remarkable ‘verse.

Now…when’s the next one???

View all my reviews

Jammin’ at the reunion

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There’s a reason my main protagonists in “Forge” play an instrument, sing, or both. Most of my family does, too. We pick’n’grin together during the reunions. Last week, my 14-year-old cousin was teaching me some chords on the mandolin (he’s a pretty hot picker), until my ad hoc music workshops came to an abrupt end when I jammed my wrist helping to put up the event tent. (The 30’x60′ ones people usually rent.) So this year I got out of a lot of dishes, and sang instead of played guitar and mandolin…but the music went on. And now I’m back in Texas, typing mostly south paw, and looking forward to next year, when I’ll be back on the happy side of jammin’. Does music play a part in your family celebrations?

“FORGE” Is Out!

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I am pleased (delighted, elated) to announce that “Forge: Book I of the Thrall Web Series” is now available for your Kindle or Nook at Decadent Publishing, Amazon.com, and Barnes & Noble.

Thanks to everyone who helped along the path of this journey. You’ve shared the trials…now share the joy!

Win Cool Prizes…Join the Science Fiction Romance Midsummer Blog Hop!

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I’m looking forward to participating in the SFR Brigade’s Midsummer Blog Hop on June 22nd!

What is the SFR Brigade, you ask? The SFRB is a collection of authors who write science fiction romance, where anything can happen to characters you care about…anyplace and anywhen the imagination can concoct.

In celebration of the summer solstice, on Friday 22nd June (Pacific Time) the SFR Brigade will be holding its first-ever Midsummer Blog Hop. Thirty-seven fabulous science fiction romance authors will be telling you mystical or scientific stories related to the event, and they’ll each be giving away a prize – books, gift cards, swag bags…and lots more!

My addition to this prize-fest: Anyone who comments on my Midsummer Blog-Hop post on June 22nd will be entered into a drawing for a free copy of “Forge”** (in the winner’s preferred electronic publishing format) and a $10 Amazon gift card.

**Remember, “Forge” doesn’t come out until July 13th!

Plus there’s TWO GRAND PRIZES

1st Prize – a Kindle Touch or Nook Touch
2nd Prize – a library of science fiction romance titles from more than 20 authors (mostly in ebook format, with one print anthology) and an Anabanana gift card.
To enter, visit as many blogs listed below as you want to (like mine! ;D) and leave a comment. Each time you comment at a stop, you’ll earn one entry for the grand prizes–so, the more sites you visit, the greater your chances of winning.
Winners will be drawn at random on the 24th of June and announced on this site. The list of participating authors follows, below. Spread the news!

The Day the Music Died

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Rest in Peace, Arthel “Doc” Watson, 3/3/1923–5/29/2012.

This was supposed to be a post about enjoying a beautiful day.

My husband and I were supposed to head to Cape Vincent, NY to spend a weekend with a few aunts, uncles, and cousins. But Life intervened. The weather couldn’t be nicer here in North Texas, and I’m taking it as a consolation prize. Sunny, warm (not hot!), with a nice breeze blowing. Made me think of one my favorite tunes, “Windy and Warm,” as performed by Doc Watson.

Hardly anybody really knows about Doc Watson, outside hardcore bluegrass/old-time music fans. We live in a world where razzle-dazzle often trumps true talent, and the two (Lady Gaga notwithstanding) are seldom found together. Doc’s humility precluded razzle, although to hear him play “Black Mountain Rag” you could only be dazzled. At 89, Doc was still traveling and performing, not missing a lick on his hot guitar.

In the interest of widening musical horizons, and celebrating a beautiful day, I decided I’d add a youtube vid of Doc, along with a few lines to describe him. And in the search for some information to share (eight-time Grammy winner–the eighth a life-time achievement award; the man who virtually invented flat-picking fiddle tunes on a guitar–making even intimidating tempos appear effortless; recipient of the National Medal of the Arts)–I came across his obituary. And I teared up.

His music has been there for me since I was in grade school. Good times, and bad. A lot of family memories are wrapped around his music. I’ve tried to learn how he plays “Deep River Blues”; my brother and my niece do a better job of it!

But words are nothing compared to Doc himself. Here are two samples of his work.

The first, Doc in his prime at the 1963 Newport Folk Festival. I saw him perform the second tune, “Black Mountain Rag” at a little tavern in a Philly suburb back in the mid-’90s, and he had us all pounding the tables with his blistering pace. (Faster even, than this recording).

The second is a video from last year. Doc kicks off the gospel set with “Beautiful Golden Somewhere.” In this one, you might notice he’s blind. He lost his sight at the age of one, due to an eye infection.

Doc has found where Somewhere is…may he rest in peace.