Writing Updates
- DREADNOUGHT AND SHUTTLE in production mode
- New project begining
The manuscript for Dreadnought and Shuttle, book 3 of Halcyone Space, has been revised and reviewed and is now in the hands of my wonderful (and wonderfully painstaking) editor. I should be getting her comments back sometime in April in time to incorporate her edits and get this book into readers' hands for early summer. Stay tuned!
My amazing cover artist, Chris Howard, is working on the concept art and I'll be revealing it to newsletter subscribers first, so check your email in the coming weeks!
New project begining: After a chance remark led to the invention of two characters, their backstories, their problems, and a world to go with it, author Rick Wayne (whose work I adore and want you all to read!) and I will be co-writing a cyber-punk flavored noir thriller, working title: VITO NONCE. I've started the ball rolling with the opening scenes and tossed it in Rick's court. This is the first time I've done this kind of collaboration with another writer and I'm quite excited about it.
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The Forgetting
I hope you enjoy the attached short story. The Forgetting was written for an anthology and now that the rights have reverted back to me, I'm happy to share this fantasy tale with you. I've included the opening below:
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Mariel sat cross-legged outside the mage’s tent for the third day. Or maybe it was the fifth. Her water gourd lay empty by her side and the hot wind whipped dust across her sun-cracked skin like a scourge. She didn’t even flinch when the tent flap opened, slapping her spine. Gens strode past her.
His dark eyes never looked down, but Mariel felt the brush of his annoyance. He mumbled something indistinct. A curtain of sand-fleas rose in his wake. Through a haze of their tiny wings, she stared across the camp at the red flag snapping on the top of the clan-leader’s tent. She kept her hands stiff in her lap as the insects swarmed, biting with their pincers.
Her empty belly growled; she ignored it. Sand shimmered with heat ripples. As the day deepened, it would get much worse. Her spine ached and the muscles in her folded legs twitched with the need to move. Mariel set her gaze to an invisible point in the distance beyond the encampment and waited.
The camp awoke. Men and women swept past her in a blur of colorful robes. She could almost make herself believe she was home and the punishing trip across the sand just a nightmare. Snatches of thoughts floated through her mind even as she tried to shut them out. “. . . seven sols says she’ll be gone by mid-day. . .” “. . . tiny thing like her. . .” “. . . sun-mad if she thinks the mage will. . .” They were blessedly unfamiliar. In their eyes, she was just another supplicant come to beg the mage’s favor, not a murderer; an abomination.
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You can read the rest of the story in the attached pdf. If you have any difficulty downloading or opening the file, please do let me know and I will be happy to assist.
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Thank you!
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