HERO’S END is now in my editor’s hands. She anticipated starting work on it sometime within the next two weeks.
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The End Is Nigh… Hero’s End, That Is
First, I’d like to thank everyone who has taken the time to ask about the upcoming sequel to SOVRAN’S PAWN. It’s taken a bit longer to crank out than expected because the plot is a bit more complex than the first book in THE BLACK WING CHRONICLES. I’ve been weaving in plot threads that will be explored in the companion series THE MERCENARY ADVENTURES OF BLADE DEVON and in the final book of THE BLACK WING CHRONICLES series, BARRON’S LAST STAND.
The old saying goes that the devil is in the details, and I’m inclined to believe it. The details have been giving me fits as I’ve been cross-referencing jewelry, clothing color, conversations, and making sure that a tiny little fact, off-handedly tossed out in Chapter One and referenced in Chapter Fifteen, coincides with the major plot point it sets up in BARRON’S LAST STAND.
Just last night, I realized that I’d cut a scene that contained pertinent details referenced in later chapters, a short story and at least two other books later in the time line.
As my husband says, “It’s enough to make a mad dog chew his chain.”
In the end, I hope my readers think it’s worth it.
Very soon I’ll hand off HERO’S END to my editor, Laurel Kriegler, for her final polish. When final edits are done on her end, I have the formatting to tend to and the proof copies to preview. My proofreader, Jessica Kramer, will go over the proof copy with bulldog tenacity and she’ll call me with a dozen corrections or more. Then and only then will HERO’S END go to print.
Some of you have asked about pre-ordering a copy. As soon as I have the copy (and page count) complete, I’ll have a better idea of paperback pricing. I’ll post a pre-order link here at that time.
Not to worry, I’ll scream it from the rooftops so everyone hears about it.
Thank you again for all your support and encouragement. I look forward to bringing you more adventures from my favorite Interstellar Man of Mystery and the Scourge of the Seventh Sector.
Ripped Six-Pack And A Misplaced Belly-Button
**Warning: The slideshow of images in this post contains some rather racy pics of the male torso. **
One thing about having a lot of friends who write erotica, you end up with a LOT of, erm… interesting things running across your social media. I freely admit that one of my guilty pleasures is the beefcake – lots and lots of beefcake. I haven’t seen females exchanging this much beefcake since high school.
Women all have different preferences when it comes to the male physique. Personally, I like longer, leaner beefcake with the muscle from an active, athletic lifestyle, not so much hours in the gym doing crunches and lifting weights, although if a fellow is going to go to all that effort, I guess I can look appreciatively at the results. I do have to admit to liking well-defined shoulders, arms, chest and abs.
I have, however discovered that I have one major turnoff that surprised me completely.
Belly button placement.
What? Belly button what?
Yep. I know. It’s arbitrary and completely silly. When presented with all this wonderful beefcake with a ripped six-pack, oiled bronze skin with tiny little droplets of water designed to make a woman mad with desire, a misplaced navel can completely destroy the effect for me. I fixate on it and wonder “How on Earth did that get there?”
As if men didn’t have enough to be insecure about, right? Now they need to worry whether their navel is placed too high – something they can do absolutely nothing to rectify. They just have to hope that the one they’re flexing for on the beach or in the bedroom is so dazzled by all the well-defined lats and abs and glutes and pects that the navel placement is irrelevant.
Not this girl.
I’m not sure why some navels appear to be too high to me, but if the navel is smack dab in the middle between waistband and nipples, it really seems too high on the torso to me. I realize that like women, some men are short-waisted and this is what causes this eye-jolting belly-button placement. In women, short-waisted usually means ‘petite.’ My guess is that it goes back to what I said about my personal preferences in men. I like longer, leaner beefcake. In other words, I like tall, athletic men. When I see a high belly-button on a man, I think short-waisted and ‘petite.’
Even the celebrities and athletes I find attractive are at least six feet tall. My husband is a very pleasant six-foot-four with perfect belly-button placement – and no, I’m not going to include pictures of him. Instead, I will include pictures I’ve culled from Facebook and around the web.
See for yourself.
Enjoy!
***
What are your turnoffs on beefcake/cheesecake pictures?
Using Controversy To Raise Brand Visibility
After having spent the better part of my adult life working in the media, I’m still fascinated by the impact it has on the hearts and minds of people. There is truth in the idea that the media shapes our culture and our public perceptions. As someone who spent so many years on the inside, I can attest to it. When I see controversies and personalities capturing the public attention, I’m not so much interested in what everyone is saying as much as I am why they are saying it. I have to wonder and ask the pop-culture icon, “What’s in it for you?”
Perhaps my own fascination with the ease with which public perception can be shaped is why I gave Blade his career in holofeatures and made him so skillful at media manipulation. It just seemed a necessary skill for him to have.
As a writer, I’m aware that I wield the power to shape public perception. Anyone with any kind of platform does so to a degree. In our age of one hundred forty character sound bites, the more controversial and upsetting, the better. But to the people who find themselves bristling in righteous indignation and organizing against the flavor-of-the-moment, I offer this question: What does the controversial figure have to gain from your ire?
I run another blog, less about writing and more about things of a more personal nature. On that blog, I asked that question and I offer you the link here if you’d like to read more about masters of media manipulation.
http://caliscomfycouch.blogspot.com/2013/05/using-controversy-to-raise-brand.html
Science Fiction Romance Brigade Opens Contest To Public
The SFR Brigade is in the final stages of readying its upcoming anthology for publication. They need cover art, so they’ve just opened up the contest to the public! If you want to design an original cover for the anthology, here is your chance! Here’s the link to their web page with all the details! Good luck!
SFR Brigade: SFR Brigade Anthology Opens Up Cover Art Submissio…: Great news everyone! The Anthology is progressing nicely. Now, we’re on to the next phase of the process. We need YOUR cover art! …
Breaking Into the Goodreads Top 50
My heartfelt thanks to my fans who have voted for SOVRAN’S PAWN.
It means the world to me that you would take the time to vote my little book into the top 50 in this poll.
It’s the best birthday present I could ever receive.
Thank you.
Be Vewy, Vewy Quiet — I’m Hunting Plot Bunnies!
I guess I can blame it on the Easter Bunny bringing me goodies. I’d prefer to credit the fact that I took the month of March off from writing and revising, and now I’m feeling rejuvenated and ready to tackle the rest of HERO’S END. Now that my nose is pressed back against the grindstone, I’m besieged with plot bunnies! I’ve already jotted down a short story because it provided a vital plot point between HERO’S END and BARRON’S LAST STAND.
Today, I was attacked by plot bunnies with at least three chapters’ worth of material for BARRON’S LAST STAND. I’d normally be tickled about this, but I still have some major revisions to finish on HERO’S END. I also have to do another pass on ARCANA DOUBLE CROSS before sending it out to the beta readers before I can even think about BARRON’S LAST STAND.
Thanks to everyone for sticking with me and being patient while I hunt plot bunnies. I’m feeling a bit like Elmer Fudd because it seems like they’re getting the better of me.
Bueller? Bueller?
Perhaps I’m dating myself with this reference, but I’d be lying if I said that the film FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF didn’t come into my life at a time when it was not only needed, but appreciated. As an overachieving college student with an irreverent sense of humor, Bueller’s devil-may-care attitude touched a chord in my Type-A little heart. One of my fellow student government officers nabbed a copy of the movie and we screened it for the student body. Ah, the perks of power!
Now, all these years later, when life’s stresses pile up, I find myself quoting the inimitable Ferris. I know I’m not alone because I found several web sites including this one with a random quote generator. http://ferrisbuellerquotes.com/
Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
Do you have a kiss for daddy?
Pardon my French, but Cameron is so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you’d have a diamond.
I do have a test today, that wasn’t a bull**** . It’s on European Socialism. I mean, really, what’s the point? I’m not European. I don’t plan on being European. So, who gives a crap if they’re Socialists? They could be fascist anarchists, it still wouldn’t change the fact that I don’t own a car.
I had a grandmother once…two, actually.
Oh, he’s very popular Ed. The sportos, the motorheads, geeks, sluts, bloods, waistoids, dweebies, dickheads – they all adore him. They think he’s a righteous dude.
You’re still here? It’s over! …Go home
So, this week, while I’m stressing over deadlines, bills, kids on field trips, family crises and the like, don’t be surprised if I:
- Show up for a Cub’s game (weeks early)
- Spontaneously join a parade float to sing Danke Schoen
- Stay in bed when I should be working
- Strike a pose at an art museum
- Talk my way into a table at an upscale restaurant
- “Borrow” an expensive sports car
Valentine’s Day, a Real Life Hero, and Happily Ever After
A string of bad relationships leaves our heroine bitter and disillusioned. When her long-time boyfriend reveals their relationship has been a lie and he’s been using her to throw off the private investigators hired by his fiancee’s NOW ex-husband, she does what any reasonable human being would do…she gives up on relationships and throws herself into serial dating.
Meanwhile…
A twenty-two year Navy career has taken its toll on our hero’s marriage. After spending half of his life at sea, our Gulf War vet is ready to settle down to a quiet, suburban, landlocked life as a high school history teacher with his wife and daughter. When an unexpected illness leaves him widowed, he and his teenage daughter are shattered and struggle to find a new normal in their lives.
Months later, his friends decide he’s grieved long enough and doesn’t need to be alone. Knowing their determination to fix him up, he proactively places an ad on Yahoo! Personals, if only to keep from suffering an endless stream of well-intentioned blind dates. He comes across an ad from a fiesty, dark-haired lady with a twinkle in her eyes and a flair for words. Captivated, he messages her.
She agrees to meet him at a book store coffee shop. She warns him that she’s got plans that afternoon and their meeting will be over when her friend arrives. She is as wounded and wary as a doe in hunting season. But our hero, an experienced hunter, recognizes that only a patient, consistent, and honest man will be able to win her trust and eventually, her heart.
Over the next few months, he vies for her attention among the myriad other men she is casually seeing. She makes no secret of the fact that she’s not interested in an exclusive relationship. He doesn’t pressure her, but he gently courts her, becoming the one constant in her life.
Thanksgiving rolls around, the first major holiday since losing his wife. Deciding it’s time to nudge his intended into realizing that she loves him, he angles for an invitation to join her family for dinner, playing on her sympathy and letting drop that if he has nowhere to go, and one of his friends has invited him to join her so she can introduce him to a very nice lady.
His ploy works. Seeing the ease with which he interacts with her family makes her realize how he’s managed to settle so easily into her life. At his heartfelt admission of love, she realizes with some amazement that he’s wormed his way into her heart.
He gives her a month to get used to the idea of being in love, this time with the right man. For Christmas, he gives her an engagement ring.
Of course this sappy romance would have a Valentine’s Day wedding.
And they lived Happily Ever After.
How can I be sure? Easy.
Fast forward ten years, three children and four grandchildren to Valentine’s Day 2013. Our heroine is now a novelist and stay-at-home-mom. Our hero is still teaching high school history. They are more in love with each other than they were ten years ago on the day they married.
On their tenth anniversary, he snuggled up to her, wrapped his arms around her, woke her with a tender kiss and wished her happy anniversary. Then he told her that if she made Valentine’s pancakes, it would make a little boy very happy, but if she wanted to stay in the warm bed and snuggle, it would make a big boy very happy.
Somehow, everyone managed to leave the house happy this morning.
Happy Valentine’s Day everyone. I wish you all the love and contentment that you deserve.
And to my real life hero, Happy Anniversary, my love.
One Cold January Morning In 1986
January 28, 1986. It was either a Tuesday or a Thursday. I can’t remember which. I can only remember that it was because my college classes were at the campus close to my home that morning. I will never forget coming home from my classes that day.
There was a shuttle launch scheduled. I was relieved to learn that I hadn’t missed it. I hated missing launches. This one was special. It had a teacher on board, Christa McAuliffe. She had beat out my sister and thousands of others who had applied for the opportunity to be the first teacher in space. When NASA had announced the program, my sister, Meg (an elementary teacher,) had jumped on it. I’d helped her with the application and been as excited as any geek could be at the prospect of launching my elder sibling into orbit.
Shuttle launches were becoming routine. They’d been happening at regular intervals for the past five or six years with no mishaps and we were growing complacent about them.
But I am a space geek. In my imagination, I rode shotgun on every launch. I hated missing any of them. We had it timed to a science. We could watch the countdown and the ignition and the first minute of flight on the television, then run outside to catch sight of the shuttle on a clear day (or night) as it became visible over the curve of the Earth and the tree-line.
Oh, it was always spectacular!
It always left me just a little sad to be left behind on Earth.
That morning in 1986 was no different from the others. I chatted with my mother about my classes that morning as we waited to see if the launch was a go. There had been some concern about ice on the shuttle.
Yes, I know. Ice in Florida…who’d a-thunk it? Believe me. It happens.
They announced it was a go. We counted down in anticipation. On the edge of our seats, we watched the ignition. The shuttle cleared the tower and rose with aching slowness into the brilliant blue sky.
After the first minute, my mother and I ventured out onto our pool patio, as we often did, to catch sight of the shuttle as it gained altitude.
It was a clear, cold day. The air was so crisp and sharp you could cut fruit with it.
We stood on the patio waiting and watching for the contrail. We waited. We waited some more. My brow furrowed. Something was amiss. Conditions were perfect for being able to see the shuttle. My mother and I exchanged concerned looks and murmured in confusion that “we should see something by now.” We did see something strange — an oddly-shaped vapor trail that never rose far above the tree-line.
After a while, we went back inside to see what was going on. The same oddly-shaped vapor trail was on the television screen. Our confusion was replaced with disbelief, then horror as we realized the tragedy we had witnessed.
The Challenger had exploded, killing all seven aboard. That was the preliminary report. It later came to light that they had been alive until crashing into the ocean.
All I could think of was “What if Meg had been aboard?”
Like the rest of the nation, I wept for the lost astronauts. In the days that followed, I was comforted by Ronald Reagan’s eloquent speech honoring them. I still think the line “They have slipped the surly bonds of Earth to touch the face of God” to be the most brilliant line from a speech that I have ever heard.
Today, twenty-seven years later, I remember the Challenger Seven: Christa McAuliffe, Michael J. Smith, Richard Scobee, Ronald McNair, Ellison Onizuka, Gregory Jarvis and Judith Resnik. The events of their passing are still as fresh in my mind today as they were that cold, clear, Florida morning as I stood on the pool patio staring at the horizon, waiting for the doomed space craft.
God’s speed to you.
Gotta Name My Blog 