Look at that! It’s Saturday! That means it’s time for another round of SFF Saturday posts! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.
Here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the twenty-first part. You can find the other parts here.
When we last left Master Sorne and Ambrose, he told her if he didn’t do as Moroloch said, the criminal would send Ambrose his daughter’s head.
Sorne pushed the image of her own son’s severed head from her mind. “Why come to me?”
“As a child, I heard all the stories about the war with the Beshtas. The King, the Rivvis, Raventhe—and you, Captain Sorne. You know the Palace. I—“ he faltered. “I’ve never been to Estefe.”
She would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. If he hadn’t pointed a gun at Dilan’s head, if it were not Moroloch, if there wasn’t a three-year-old girl being held hostage. She hoped—beyond all hope—that the child was still alive.
Sorne has a history. Not all of it is happy.
All over the place, it turns out. I’ve added an Appearances page, but here’s the list:
May 13th – 18th: RT Booklovers Convention, New Orleans, LA
June 26th – 29th: In Your Write Mind Workshop, Greensburg, PA
Jul7 17th – 20th: DetCon1 (NASFiC), Detroit, MI
July 25th – 27th: Confluence, Mars, PA (Greater Pittsburgh)
August 14th – 18th: LonCon3 (WorldCon), London, England
September 26th – 28th: Context, Columbus, OH
October 16th – 19th: GayRomLit, Chicago, IL
November 6th – 9th: World Fantasy, Arlington, VA (Washington DC)
It’s time for another installment of Science Fiction Saturday! It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.
Here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the twentieth part. You can find the other parts here.
When we last left Master Sorne and Ambrose, she’d told him Moroloch wanted a very large sapphire.
Of course, the King’s stone. Moroloch was a right bastard. Still, she let Ambrose voice the plan.
“There’s only one other, in the King’s treasury.”
It was actually on a shelf in Oradon’s bedroom, but only those closest to the King would know that. She nodded. “And so they sent you to steal the one in the Palace. Or lose your daughter.”
His shrug was one of helplessness. “If I refused, he said he’d send me my daughter’s head.”
Moroloch is not on Sorne’s good guy list…
Well, hello again! I want to blog more this year, so I’m back posting for Science Fiction Saturday! It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.
Here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the nineteenth part. You can find the other parts here.
The cue word for this week is Cascade. I’m going to cheat a bit, because I haven’t been around in a while. What we have here is a cascade of trouble for Ambrose.
When we last left Master Sorne, she’d declared Moroloch, the man who’d given Ambrose a job, to be no gentleman.
“I know that now,” Ambrose said. “When the shipment disappeared, they broke into my home in the dark of the night, bound both me and my wife and took our girl.” His hands shook and anger turned his face darker. “I couldn’t do a damned thing.”
“They wanted you impotent.”
He jerked his head up. “Well, they succeeded. By the time Moroloch came, well into the light of the next day, I was—not myself. He offered me a way to get my child back. He didn’t care about the garnets or the emeralds, just the sapphire.”
Wonder what’s up with the sapphire?
Fireworks over Pittsburgh. Photo by daveynin
Well, my first resolution is to blog more often. As you can see, I’ve rather neglected my poor blog. So, to that end, I’ll be getting back involved in SFF Saturdays. I’ll also be blogging my module on Worldbuilding for non SF/F writers. And just randomly posting about how my writing is going.
2013 had ups and downs. One of the biggest ups was becoming a client of Jennifer Udden at Donald Maass Agency. I’m in the middle of revisions with her at the moment. Hopefully, 2014 will see these books out on submission!
The worst event of 2103 was not writing related. In October, lost my 14-year-old cat Jon to complications with diabetes. Jon was a European Burmese and a sweetie-pie. Full of purrs and cuddles and love. Animals crawl right into your heart and it’s hard when they’re gone. But I’m grateful for the time we did have.
Also in 2013, my pen name published a short story and the novel published in 2012 came out in Paperback. It’s currently a finalist in the EPIC awards for Best Paranormal Romance. The winner will be announced in March.
As far as writing goals for 2104:
- Wrap up revisions on a romance novel for my pen name.
- Wrap up revisions on a fantasy novel for this name. It’s set in the same world as Old Wounds, though with different characters.
- Write new romance novel for pen name.
- Write a sequel to fantasy novel above.
- Edit some of my short stories and try to sell them.
- Clean my office so I have somewhere professional to work.
What are your goals for 2014?
It’s Saturday! Which means more Science Fiction Saturday posts! It’s a blog ring of SF/F snippets and you can check out other SFF Saturday posts, as well.
Today, I’m sharing more from a short story called Old Wounds. This is the eighteenth part. You can find the other parts here.
When we left Master Sorne, Ambrose was about to explain what the cargo he “lost” was…
“Gems, mostly lower-grade garnets, but also some very large uncut emeralds, and one sapphire the size of an egg that was to go to the capital.”
To Estefe. A sapphire that large should only go to one person, but the way this was playing out… “It was not sent to the King.”
“No, nor to any jeweler I knew.” He held up a hand to forestall her comment. “I’ve sent shipments of jewels to the City before; I know the names of the best. No, this was to a gentleman named Moroloch.”
Sorne nearly reached for the hilt of her sword. “Moroloch is no gentleman.”
Huh! How about that.
Well, hello again! It’s Saturday, and I’m trying to get better about posting my Science Fiction Fantasy Saturday snippet. It’s been a while, but here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the seventeenth part. You can find the other parts here. And honestly, even I need to figure out where we were… ah, here we go!
When we left Master Sorne, Ambrose let on that he’s a trader. And he made a bad deal with the wrong person. What happen? Well…
He nodded. “I also move other items, including delicate or expensive cargo.”
Ah. “You lost someone’s shipment.”
“I don’t lose shipments,” Ambrose said, each word sharper than the last. “It was stolen, probably by the bastard who hired me. I should have said no. Had I been smart—” He ran a hand through his hair.
Oh, well, look at the time. I guess we’ll find that bit out next week!
(ps. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.)
Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been rather busy lately, between the day job and life and writing. I’m waist-deep in revising my fantasy novel, Duty to the Crown, based on my agent’s suggestions. It’s all good stuff. Tightening things, raising the stakes, allowing the character to be more of who he is… and making the story more epic. That novel is set in the same world as the snippets I had been sharing of Old Wounds.
Meanwhile, my alter-ego has also been writing a romance. So it’s been a lot of back and forth between projects.
But I have missed SFF Saturday quite a lot. So here I am again! And I noticed there’s a prompt now… shades.
Well, I didn’t have anything with the word “shades” in it, so I chose to use shade. Here’s a snippet of a novel that’s currently trunked called The Tyras Key. It takes place about 350 years after Duty to the Crown. So same world, just later.
Had she been home, Silvia’s shower would have run cold by now. She missed the shock of the change that told her when to stop sulking. In this shower, she could regret forever. She rose and shut the water off. Enough.
She donned the dress her father had left for her. While made of silk, it was of a simple cut, nothing like the ball gown from the previous night. The dress was a violet close to the shade of a twilight sky and had a belt of black leather long enough that its tail rapped at her ankles. The colors spoke of endings, of death.
Perfect to wear for an execution.
Boy, Saturday snuck up on me! I can’t believe it’s time for another SFF Saturday Snippet! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a group of authors who post snippets of SFF prose and poetry for comment. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.
I’m so behind on everything lately! (Including commenting on other SFFSat posts.) I’m spending the weekend playing catchup. In the meantime, here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the sixteenth part. You can find the other parts here.
When we left Master Sorne, Ambrose had just commented that he made the wrong deal with the wrong person.
He shifted on the stool. “I’m not sure why you’re helping me and not killing me.”
Sorne leaned back in her chair. “Your daughter is three. How would killing you help her?”
He chewed on that for a moment. “I’m a trader, from Farlon Harbor. I generally acquire and transport quarried stone—marble and the like—for building projects.”
That explained his costal accent. “By land and sea?”
Aaaaand that’s 10 sentences. A trader, huh? They never get into bad situations…
Another Saturday has arrived! That means it’s time for another SFF Saturday Snippet! What’s SFF Saturday? It’s a group of authors who post snippets of SFF prose and poetry for comment. You can check out other SFF Saturday posts, too.
Today is yard work day! Lots of rain means long grass and plenty of weeds. So while I’m out pushing the mower, here’s another snippet from Old Wounds for you. This is the fifteenth part. You can find the other parts here.
When we left Master Sorne, she’d given Ambrose back his flintlock pistol.
He took the weapon, but looked at it as if it were a dead fish. He’d perched himself onto a stool near the table.
“You’ll need it later, I expect,” she said.
His face twisted at that. “I’m not built for this kind of thing.” But he pocketed the pistol anyway.
His earlier actions belied that statement. Desperate men and desperate actions. “Tell me what happened.”
“I made the wrong deal with the wrong person.”
Yeah, that’s usually how these things go, huh?