Showing posts with label Scifi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scifi. Show all posts

Tuesday, 3 September 2013

Character Interview: Galen from Hesparia's Tears by Imogene Nix

Hi Maggie,

Thanks for having both of Galan and I over to visit today.  Now, I'll just go sit over there and drink my champagne while you chat with Galan, okay?

• I know your name is Galan, but do you have a nickname?

Not really. In Hesparia most people are busy from a young age, particularly as we are all working to achieve a common goal. Nicknames really aren't a part of our culture.

• Tell me about your friends and family? Who do you surround yourself with?

My father and I have a very close relationship. It's not just a... a ruler and his heir. I am the only child, my mother dying when I was young. I have cousins and uncles I am close to. But my father has been a huge influence.
Among my friends are those who serve on the Princess Gospah. And of course, since my time here, there is now Jessa, Seth and Danni.

• Where were you born?


I was born in the palace in the town of Griffen on Orsar, our main continent. It is also the home of our diplomatic and senatorial chambers. I also grew up there. It's not big, not like a lot of the palaces and houses of power here on Earth. It is well fortified though. *Galan laughs*

• In the past you have described Hesparia as agrarian and pacific, but as the heir of the ruling house, how does that affect you?

On Hesparia, we really don't consider ourselves to be any different from the rest of the populace. Along with everyone else, we harvest and plant, gather and store. We eat in the communal dining areas regularly as well.

• Galan, if you had to describe you biggest fear, what would it look like?

It would be hundreds and thousands of men, alone on a dying planet.
Galan looks away for a moment. When he turns back, his eyes shine with tears.
It's a sight I've seen before. The graves of the women as their DNA slowly degenerates and man after man watching his wife birth dead children. Desolation.

• Do you think you will ever find love again?


Ah... a gentleman never tells, but there is one woman...

• The Hesparian delegation is here to find woman, willing to relocate to Hesparia. Why? Make a case as to why the woman would wish to go there.

I can't offer a miracle. But I can offer a fresh start. An opportunity to make decisions about your future and to learn new skills. To be important to someone and hopefully to find the one person who will complete you.
You will have the freedom to live you life the way it is important to you. Free of religious persecution.
Our planet does not suffer from the levels of pollution Earth does, so health wise it's an added factor. Though we have fine healers and physicians.
And a chance to be one of the first humans to travel and settle on another planet.

• When you are home, what is the normal routine for a no-work day?


Most days require some kind of daily labour. Whether it's the feeding and tending of animals, or checking the fields. But on quiet days, we might visit the ocean, read or play and compose music.
There are many artisans on Hesparia and we are very proud of our musical traditions.


• What is one strong memory that has stuck with you since childhood?


I remember my grandmother. She was a strong woman and very artistic. She potted and wove up until her passing.  I remember the last time I travelled with her to a funeral of a woman. The men wailing at the door. She put her hand in theirs, knew their names. Spoke to them like real people. Treated them with the ultimate respect before taking me within the house to help with the laying out of the body.
It was a powerful moment in my life, reminding me that above all, no matter who we are, we all live and are loved equally.

Thanks for having us Maggie. It's been both a pleasure and an honour to be here.

Don't forget to pop in and visit my latest party, the Not A Release Day Party on 9 September!  Click HERE for the link



Bio

Imogene is the author of many books, including Hesparia's Tears, Tomorrow's Promise, A Sapphire for Karina and the Edible Delights Anthology Vol 2.

Wife, mother and nutty bookstore owner all describe Imogene Nix, but the real secret is Science Fiction, Paranormal Romance with a hefty dose of Romantic Suspense is what she adores.

She is dedicated to high quality romance, with a dollop of erotic interactions, and has dipped her toes into Science Fiction, Contemporary Romance and Paranormal Romance featuring feisty headstrong female leads and the odd   Romantic Suspense.

She lives in Rural Queensland where she happily raises 2 daughters, lots of chickens a couple of cats and her super pup Teddy. When she isn’t writing or reading, she’s hanging out with her husband, acting like a techno-geek or cooking and making wine.

Links—where to find Imogene Nix:
Facebook    Twitter    Goodreads    Google+    Blog   Hotter Than Hades   Website


HESPARIA'S TEARS: Blurb

What will happen when the past catches up?

Galan is from Hesparia, where the females are dying out on his pacific agrarian planet.
Jessa has a past, one she hasn’t earned but cannot escape from.

What will happen when opportunity knocks?

Galan travels to earth, hoping to plead the case for Hesparia. He doesn’t expect Jessa or The Quickening.

Can he make the case for women to migrate to Hesparia and arrange a Diplomatic Alliance? Can they trust one another with their hearts. And can Jessa really escape her past?


Excerpt


The spaceship entered orbit and Jessa watched the tracking on the television. Since learning of the existence of extraterrestrials, it was about all she wanted to do. See where they were and where they planned to land.

The reporter came back on the screen. “We believe they will make their landing somewhere on the continent of Australia. There have been no further radio communications from the craft, however. So it is, at best, an educated guess right now.”

Jessa giggled at the sober face of the young, twenty-something reporter standing outside the Parkes Observatory and the inane follow up comment made by the thirtyish female news anchor.

“Jessa, it’s time for bed!” her mother yelled again.

She sighed dramatically. At twenty-four she was no longer a child, even though her parents seemed to struggle with that small fact.

Maybe it’s time to move out. As quickly as the thought had crossed her mind, she dismissed it. Leaving home meant more expense than she could possibly afford. The thing that really irked her was paying an outstanding legal bill for something she hadn’t even done. It was a refrain that had played through her mind over and over again since the event had taken place. It may have happened years ago, but she continued to pay for her youthful indiscretion. One she had long regretted.

Jessa stood, before heading down the old hallway to the bathroom. Living at home meant sharing a bathroom with her little brother, Ben. Of course, being a boy of sixteen, he was disgusting. There were used razor blades, splashes of water, foam from his recent shaving experience and hairs in the sink. Knowing it would make no difference complaining about it she carefully picked up the discarded detritus and placed it in the bin beside the vanity unit, wiped away the mess and began her own night-time ritual.

Emerging from the bathroom, she spied her mother, standing at the end of the hall in her fluffy blue dressing gown with matching slippers, and her blonde hair sitting high on her head in soft curlers. It was the same scene every night. “Night, Jessa.”

“Night, Mum.” What else was there to say? In a funk, Jessa entered her room, before closing the door then sat down on her single bed. She breathed deeply, letting the oxygen flow through her system, before slowly levering herself down across the mattress. Her blinds were open so she had an excellent view of the star-studded sky. It was a major positive to living on the edge of town, the absence of bright lights.

“Whoever you are, I certainly hope you’re friendly,” Jessa muttered, before closing her eyes, rolling onto her side and willing herself to sleep. For some reason, an excited thrill ran through her system.
Finally, visitors from the stars. No longer was it a figment of someone’s imagination or something from a science fiction novel. The time had come for them to have contact with another species. That was a sobering thought. The Prime Minister had sent a radio message to the ship. God, I hope the Prime Minister didn’t act like a pompous dick. Jessa snuggled down under the covers, waiting for the touch of sleep. Her mind wandered and she drowsed.

Her mobile, sitting on the bedside table buzzed and vibrated. Jessa muttered in the dark, groping for the device. She reached out and found the red leather covered item and dragged it to her ears.

“’lo?”

“Jessa, it’s me. Seth. Can you come to the office at the telescope? I need you.” His voice was excited.
She squinted. “I was asleep, Seth. Besides which, I’m off duty until Saturday.” The room was gloomy and she screwed her face up into a scowl, knowing sleep would probably elude her now. “What could be so important that I need to come in right now?” Jessa pushed back the covers, swung her legs over the side then slipped her feet into her old grey slippers beside the bed.

“I can’t tell you over the phone.”

“What?” Something was happening. An agitated thrill filled her chest and for an instant her mind warred with the interest that spiked.

“Jessa…”

He didn’t need to plead. Jessa was already getting up to hunt out clothes. “Sure. Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Thanks. You really won’t regret it.” The delight in his voice was contagious.

Jessa hurriedly tapped the end call button.

Buy Links
Amazon  Barnes and Noble All Romance EBooks (ARe) Total-e-bound

Click on the Rafflecopter, complete the activities and you can win! 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Monday, 30 April 2012

MONDAY MAGIC - Cari Z - When is enough really enough?

When Is Enough Really Enough?

By Cari Z

I grew up with a house full of boy scouts, and from an early age I was taught that the golden rule wasn’t “Do unto others,” it was, “Be prepared.”  Be prepared for anything, from a blizzard to a heat wave, and I have dutifully followed suit.  My car has everything from chemical handwarmers to iodine tablets in the trunk.  Rest assured, if I’m ever kidnapped and dropped in the middle of nowhere with my car, I’ll be ready.  Without the car… um… I’ll have a pocket knife.  And possibly a mirror and some lipstick, depending on the day.  But regardless, I like to be prepared, and I like to prepare other people too.  It’s an impulse I have to fight in my writing.

There’s a continual risk for an author of over-explaining things to your readers.  You want them to understand, you want them to see it the way you do, and how better to ensure that than by telling them all about it?  I’ve found that when writing speculative fiction, that urge goes up immensely.  There’s more than just a character’s work or relationships to explain, there’s an entirely new world that readers need to be clued into.  It doesn’t matter if it’s high fantasy, science fiction or paranormal romance, I always get into a mental beatdown with my inner teacher over how much to give away. 

I’d probably be an abysmal mystery writer (omg, the butler!  Look at the butler!).

In May I’ve got several new releases coming out, and one of them is the m/m science fiction novel Changing Worlds, based off of a short story I wrote for the anthology Wild Passions.  It’s set far in the future and delves into the complicated relationship between my human narrator and his alien consort.  You can imagine just how much detail I wanted to give you: what is life like for humans in this era?  What about the alien world they live on?  What about their language?  What are the trials of adapting to an entirely new culture?  Is love the same thing for humans as it is for the Perel, the aliens that I describe?  The novel delves into all of this and a lot more, and was originally an extra ten thousand words or so long, mostly me telling you things that you didn’t really need to be walked through.  Thankfully that’s what editors are for, to keep their authors in check and up to snuff, and luckily I have the best and most ruthless editor ever to grace the page.

This is my first ever novel, and it turns out it’s a lot harder to stay consistently good over seventy thousand words than it is over a short story, but I’m thrilled with how the book has turned out.  My publisher at Storm Moon Press has been awesome enough to include the short story the novel is based on as a preface to the book, for free.  This way new readers will be able to get Jason and Ferran’s full story, while faithful readers will be able to get to the new stuff in short order.  I want my audience to walk away from this story thrilled by the romance and satisfied with the plot.  If you like new and exciting places, life-or-death suspense and steamy sex, then Changing Worlds is right up your alley.  If you don’t like those things… maybe we should stage an intervention.  Reach out!  I’m here for you!

Changing Worlds is available for preorder from Storm Moon Press, and will be released on May 18th.

Huge thanks to Maggie for hosting me, and thanks to you guys for visiting and reading!

Bio:  Cari Z. is a Colorado girl who loves snow and sunshine. She is back from Africa at long last, and loves it despite having to relearn how to drive a car and work a touchscreen. Writing consumes the free time that isn't spent on the mat or playing with her husband, or both (wonderful when interests coincide like that), and she hopes you enjoy what she writes as much as she enjoys writing it.
Blog: carizerotica.blogspot.com, website: cari-z.net.


Buy Link:  http://www.stormmoonpress.com/books/Changing-Worlds.aspx

Blurb:

In this sequel to Cari Z's Opening Worlds, former starship captain Jason Kim travels to Perelan, the homeworld of his lover, Ferran, to start a life together. The ruling council of the Perels have allowed this unconventional union to continue in the hopes of strengthening relations between themselves and the humans. And while Ferran's family welcome Jason with open arms, not all of the other major families are as pleased. The arrival of an outsider to their insular, subterranean world challenges the traditions of centuries.

Tensions soar as old rivalries are rekindled in the wake of Jason and Ferran's relationship. Inevitably, something snaps. Jason and Ferran soon find themselves literally fighting for their lives when xenophobic anger pushes things beyond the breaking point. Only their devotion to one another can see them through, but a ghost from Jason's past threatens even that. With Perelan on the brink of civil war, Jason and Ferran must find a way to stand together in the face of chaos and to change the world on their own terms before it tears itself apart.


***

Thanks for being my guest today Cari! I have to agree with you there...it's so hard to get the balance right between how much you tell and how much is weaved into the story through description, and the five senses.  Great post!

The book looks pretty cool too!


Thursday, 1 March 2012

THURSDAY TEASER - Lynda K. Scott

Lynda and I go way back!  We both had an interesting time at a former publisher, but we've put that behind us now!

So I am really pleased to have Lynda as my guest today. Lynda writes Scifi romance which is one of my favourite sub genres. Here is an excerpt from her latest book. Enjoy!


ALTERED DESTINY

Blurb
Stranded on an alternate Earth, architect and Jill-of-all-trades, Liane Gautier-MacGregor must find her way back to her homeworld before she's enslaved...or falls in love with a man who is the exact duplicate of her ex-husband.

Devyn MacGregor's alter ego as the Reiver Lord is the only way he can fight the Qui'arel and their nefarious Bride Bounty, a tax paid with human females...until he meets the oddly familiar woman who claims he is her husband. And who sets in motion the rebellion that will either free his countrymen or destroy them.

Buy Links:
Amazon
Nook
Smashwords


EXCERPT

     As she watched the comet-star, a buzzing, tickling sensation swept over her.  Her scalp tingled, her hair lifted.  She looked around uneasily as the wind died.  Even the waves, so restless moments ago, hesitated, stuck in mid-curl.
     Her gaze, drawn to the sky, settled on the not-star as it sped toward the moon.  Liane’s throat filled with dread as, with a flash of blinding whiteness and an utter lack of sound, the moon exploded.
She gasped in terrified awe as fragments whirled silently through the sky.  Get inside! screamed the primitive part of her mind, inside, inside, inside.  Obeying the silent command, she sped toward the sea stairs but the wind came at her like a battering ram.  She stumbled, fell back, and caught herself as her shoes filled with cold ocean water.  The tide surged, slammed into her knees. 
     With a supreme effort, Liane dragged herself forward then–
     The sea, the beach, the moon and stars–all spun in rapid circles around her.  A queer, sideways slide, a wrenching shift, threw her off-balance. 
     From somewhere came her ex-husband’s startled yell followed by the deep mechanical growl of his BMW.
     She flailed as a kaleidoscope of color burned across her eyes and drummed through her skull. Swept up, she clawed empty air.  Tiny zaps, electrically charged, sizzled over her, around her, through her.  Then, as if a giant hand reached out to snatch her from the maelstrom–
     Liane reeled in broad daylight, the sun beating over the waves and blinding her with its brilliance.


Chapter 1

“They that rise wi’ the sun hae their wark weel begun.”

260 AQ, Virginia Coast, New Alba

     Dizzy and off-balance, Liane had a single moment to gape at the suddenly day-lit beach before a man-shaped wrecking-ball slammed into her, dumping her into the chilly surf.  “Erp!”
     “Guh!”  The man sprawled on top of her.  A frothing wave crashed over her, filling her nose and mouth with the briny taste of seawater.  The man levered himself up and gaped at her through a pair of startling green eyes--her ex-husband’s green eyes.
     “Blethering hell, woman!  Where did you come from?”  He leaped to his feet, staring at her with an equal mixture of irritation, astonishment and concern.  He offered her a hand up.  “Are you hurt?”
     The last thing she wanted to do was touch him–unless she had a two-by-four in her hands–so she ignored him.  She stood, brushing her wet clothes with sharp flicks of her hands.  Movement from the corner of her eye had her turn in time to see a dark bay horse scaling the bluff.  What the hell was a horse doing here?  For that matter, she turned to her ex, what was he doing here? “What are you doing here?”
     His green eyes narrowed.  “I might ask you the same, lass.”
     His Scottish burr startled her.  So did his clothing–a red and black kilt, a blue coat, unbuttoned to reveal a snowy white shirt, wetly plastered to his chest, argyle socks over silver-buckled boots.  Her gaze settled on his bare knees.  Even if he was a two-timing snake, Devyn had gorgeous knees...for a man, she added grudgingly.  Sneering, she said, “Cute outfit.  Where’d you get it?   Scots R Us?”
     “‘Tis flattered I am you approve of my clothing.”  His burr deepened and sent shivers licking over her skin.  She'd always loved accents and the Scots accent was the sexiest of them all.  When it was real.  Devyn's couldn't be real.  He'd been born in Chicago after all.  His green gaze roved over her, assessing her denim jacket, jeans and tennies.  She waited for the insult–he’d never liked her casual choice in clothes–but when he spoke, concern colored his voice. “Where is your escort? Your men?”
     “Men?  I’ve only had one and, trust me, you were more than enough.”  She squeezed water out of her short brown hair.  There was something strange about Devyn, something beyond the phony accent and the costume. The ocean wind kicked up making her shiver again. 
     “Me?  Have we met afore, lass?”  He groped inside his jacket.  A moment later, he unfolded a pair of glasses.  The frames were slightly askew so they settled crookedly on his face.  The effect was boyish and rather charming.  But–
     “When did you start wearing glasses?”
     His head tilted.  A smile teased the corners of his gorgeous mouth.  “I’ve a good mind for faces, particularly on beautiful women, but I dinna seem to recollect yours.”
     “Don’t be cute.”  That smile sent freshets of pleasurable heat dancing over her skin, heat she hadn't felt in years.  She reminded herself he did have a good mind for faces–as long as they had blond hair, big boobs and long Barbie-doll legs.  She had the boobs but not the hair or the ridiculously long legs. And she didn’t have the patience to deal with this nonsense.  “Answer the question.  What are you doing here?”
     “Aside from running you down?  I’m on my way to Seagate, lass.  May I introduce myself–Devyn MacGregor at yer service.”  Leg extended, he swept a courtly bow.  “And might I ask what you are doing here?  Alone and unprotected?”
     She cocked her eyebrow.  “What’s there to be protected from?”  Then added, skeptically, “You?”
     “Nae, lass.  I’m harmless as a wean.”  He smiled again.
     She didn’t know what a wean was and didn’t care.  Her mind felt clouded, foggy but an uneasy prickle skated up her spine and she couldn’t pinpoint what caused it.  Unless it was Devyn.  She took a step back.
     “Dinna be scairt, lass.  I willna harm you.”
     Scairt?  He meant scared, she realized, and she was, but she didn’t like letting him know it.  She inhaled, deeply, through her nose, and caught the scent of spice and...and something so intrinsically male it could be bottled and sold for hundreds of dollars.  She fought the sudden urge to run her hands over the rich blue of his coat, to feel the solid body underneath. No way was she going down that road again.  She stuffed her hands in her wet pockets, then hastily pulled them out and sneered.            
     “Riighht.  Okay, fess up.  What kind of game is this?”
     “Game?”  His gaze settled on her mouth.  Intently.  A do-you-wanna-have-fun smile curved his lips.  “What did you have in mind?”
     That smile and voice could seduce a whole bevy of women even without the Highland lilt.  She knew.  She’d seen it happen.   And, damn it, she felt it happening to her all over again.  Disgusted, she shook her head and winced as a needle of pain shot between her eyes.  “You are one piece of work, aren’t you?   For the last time, what’re you doing here?”
     “I’ve found a lovely, if a wee bit barmy, lass on a deserted beach.”  Devyn shifted to stare up at the bluff.  An expression of patient suffering crossed his face.  “And I’ve just lost my bluidy horse.”
Barmy?  Bluidy?  She wasn’t sure what he was talking about but it didn’t sound flattering.  And the closest he’d ever got to a horse was her Ford Mustang.  She needed to get this conversation back on track.  “I thought you left.”
     “Left?”  His gaze licked over her face and her mouth again leaving a warm trail in its wake.
     “You took the Beemer and left–” She waved her hand in a vague gesture.  Had she fallen, hit her head on a rock and passed out? Was this some kind of dream or nightmare?  “–last night.  Now you’re back.  Did you forget something?”
     “I took the Beemer?” he asked slowly.
     “The BMW.”
     “B-M-W?”   His handsome face remained blank.
     She rolled her eyes.  “Your baby.  The car of your dreams.”  Between last night and this morning, he’d clearly lost a couple of IQ points.  “What are you made up for?  It’s too early for Halloween.  And what’s with the phony Scottish accent?”
     He frowned, straightened to his full six-foot, four-inch height.  “I dinna have an accent.”
     Exasperated, she threw her hands into the air, turning her back on him.  Whatever Devyn was up to, it was clear he wouldn’t tell her.  No surprise there.
     The flesh between her shoulders tingled as he touched her hair, a whisper touch that slid into a slight tug and she fought the urge to lean back.  She’d always loved having her hair touched.  But she didn’t want him, shouldn’t want him, to do the touching.  Not anymore.  She whirled, fists clenched.
     “‘Twas in your hair.”  His green eyes widened with innocence and he dropped a small, wet twig.  Folding his arms over his broad chest, he met her glare evenly.  Then, as if in afterthought, he gave her that charming smile again.  “It’s clear we’ve some misunderstanding–”
     “I don’t understand why you’re doing this charade.”  As she spoke, she turned toward the bluff, then froze, halting in mid-tirade.  Her blood drained into her toes, her ears roared.  “My God!  It’s gone!”
     “What’s gone, lassie?”
     “Everything.  The cottage–the sea stairs.”  She fought to keep the hysteria out of her voice.  Gautiers didn’t have hysterics.  They were strong and self-reliant.  Fearless.  She tried to convince herself that two out of three wasn’t bad, but her knees wobbled and her heart threatened to tear out through her throat.
     “Lass, there’s nae a cottage here.”
     “I can see that,” she snapped in a spurt of desperate anger.  “But there should be.  You know it was.  Don’t try to tell me you don’t know it was.”  Her voice rose to a pitch only small dogs would make.  Swallowing, she struggled to lower it.  “Devyn, what's going on?”
        Disgusted by the quaver in her voice, she took two long steps toward the bluff.  As if that small a distance would bring the cottage into view.  She was such an idiot.  Such a coward.  And she hated him to see her this way, hated to expose her weakness in front of a man who would use it to humiliate her.  Again.

*****

Whoa!  Thanks Lynda! You've got my attention!  I want to know what happens next!

Hey readers...what do you think?