Sunday, September 22, 2013

Happiness in Adversity

Take the Train Blog Hop

Join the authors of Wild Child publishing and Freya’s Bower as we Take an Autumn Train Ride through our blogs.
Prizes will include

  • Four $50 gift certificates (two for Wild Child and two for Freya's Bower)
  • An awesome swag package that includes:
    • Bookmarks
    • Books
    • Wild Child T-shirt and mug
    • Wild Child and Freya's Bower bags
    • Four handmade, crochet coasters by Kit Wylde
    • An autographed copy of Rosemary and Rue by Seanan McGuire
    • A rare DVD copy of the Matheson/Furst classic "Up The Creek" (lovingly used)
    • One ebook copy of Nita Wick’s short story, The Dream (previously published as part of a Freya’s Bower anthology.)
    • Book trading cards
    • Signed Dangerous Waters poster
    • copy of "Battle for Blood: The Blood Feud"
    • the winner’s name as a character in Kissa Starling’s next sweet romance story.
    • A Yankee Candle
    • and more...

Happiness in Adversity
Victoria Roder

Standing on the platform with the other passengers, I waited in restless anticipation to catch a glimpse of the headlight, the telltale sign of the grayish smoke, or the sound of the steel wheels churning against the track. Passengers stirred as a centralized beam of light leads the steam engine around the bend. Chugging toward the station, restored steam locomotive number 261, boats the motto, "Out of the Past and Into the Future."

Glancing over my shoulder at my In-laws, I captured a picture in my mind I will never forget. My father-in-law stood with his arm wrapped tightly around my mother-in-law's waist. He had a wide, joyful grin on his face. I had been worried we would never see this day, but here we were, together, waiting to board the steam engine.

The whistle blew and the conductor yelled, "All Aboard. All Aboard. Keep your ticket with you at all times."

With excitement and cameras in hand, passengers scurried aboard the restored steam engine passenger train. The puff of sooty steam escaped the smokestack and the sound of chugging began as we shimmed down the track. Peeking out the windows, the Wisconsin landscape was breath taking. My husband and I sat across from his parents in a booth. My in-laws are not the typical stereotype in-laws most people think of when they hear that title. My mother and father-in-law are kind, generous and accepting souls that have always treated me as nothing less than their daughter.

My apprehension before we reached the day of our scheduled train ride was because my father-in-law had been diagnosed with stage four liver cancer a few months earlier. Liver cancer at stage four is not a hopeful situation. But, here we were and the grin on my father-in-laws face, that I will never forget was better than any train ride, or activity I could ever plan. I'm so thankful that picture is forever etched in my memory. Even in the reality of his limited time, my father-in-law was grateful, joyful and an example to the rest of us to celebrate life.

Please visit my website  I am the author of children's adventures with value and adult mystery books.
 Available at Amazon and Wild Child Publishing.

Please visit these sites for more chances to win, the more you visit the more chances you have to win. We have 46 participating authors. You can stop at as many or as little blogs as you wish. At each stop, you will find two chances to enter per blog to win some awesome prizes. If you visit all, that’s 92 chances to win! There will be five, lucky winners.

Take the Blog Train and Visit These Blogs for more chances to win

Doing Time in Hell

After writing The Haunting of Ingersull Penientiary I am so thrilled to host J. Bodie's Memoir, Doing Time in Hell on my site. Although Bodie McIlvane has passed on his goal was to,  “help people understand what goes on in prison, and show that both the inmate and the correctional officer are Doing Time.

At this moment, they are beating on the doors and raising Hell down in the Hole, which is really the Adjustment Center.
 A few minutes ago, a con broke out of his cell and tried to cut a guard’s guts out. The guard broke into a run and the con cut him in the buttocks instead, one hundred and nineteen times, using a box cutter he smuggled in from the kitchen…
That was my introduction to Bodie McIlvane’s memoir Doing Time in Hell.  His widow had asked me to “look over it.”  Her husband had written it after he retired.
I spread the pages out on the dining room table, sorted them according to chapters, lined up the photos in another neat stack, and also the poems.
Soon I had the Dedication, Introduction, and a couple of chapters underway.
As chance would have it, however, I had novels of my own being released and I stopped work on Doing Time to proof their galleys.  Then something else came up, and I started procrastinating…it can wait a little longer…pretty soon, the manuscript was left sitting on the table while I worked on my own stories.  Occasionally I’d pick up a page and look at it, perhaps type part of a chapter or go over what I’d already transcribed and revise and edit a little but that was all.
Then one day, an ambulance wailed as it pulled into the parking lot.  I hated that sound. It meant someone was leaving the apartment building…permanently. A few days later, I found out who…Mrs. McIlvane.
As expected, guilt set in.  I was ashamed, putting off working on that book because it looked to be a tedious and exhausting exercise. I dropped everything and then and there concentrated on Bodie’s manuscript. It didn’t take long to finish once I got started. Then I had to decide what to do with it.  No one had said anything about getting it published.  All Mrs. McIlvane had wanted was for it to be put into some kind of “order.” To make up for the way I had put off working on it, I decided I was going to get it published.
As luck would have it, Class Act Books had just come under new ownership and they were advertising they wanted fiction and non-fiction.  So…
I sent it to Class Act Books, figuring I’d start there and work my way around. They accepted it.
Doing Time in Hell is a memoir, the story of an oilrig wildcatter from Louisiana who was “conned” into applying for a job with the Nebraska Penal System.  I say conned because Bodie didn’t want to become a prison guard.  He just filled out the application to please his father-in-law. To his surprise, he was accepted, and ended up working at the Nebraska State Penitentiary for twelve years. It’s an interesting story, an entertaining story, and all the more so because it’s a true one, told in plain language.
Bodie McIlvane wrote it in the hope that his story will “help people understand what goes on in prison, and show that both the inmate and the correctional officer are Doing Time.
The only difference is, the officers are doing it on the Installment Plan.

The inmates had everything but their freedom and they had to escape to get that.
 The main thing we do is count the inmates and make sure they’re there.
 Nobody moves until the counting is done and everyone is accounted for. Make sure you see skin and breathing.
 Sometimes they try to hide under their bunks or wherever they can but if the count is short, then we count again until sooner or later everyone is accounted for.
 One officer discovered he was counting a dummy while the inmate was downtown drinking in a bar. He refused to believe the man he had been counting was caught and in a cell at the Death Row House. I had to relieve him so he could go and see. After that, he started kicking in the doors. That was a pretty good way to make sure the guy under the covers was a real person and not dead or a mannequin.

Doing Time in Hell available at Class Act Books.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Guest Author C.M Michaels

Please welcome author C.M Michaels

For Emily Waters, a nature-loving, small-town girl with an overprotective father, heading off to Boston University to study conservation biology is a dream come true—until a chance encounter catapults her into a mythical world she’d do anything to escape. 

The latest victim in a rash of abductions near campus, Emily is brutally attacked before being rescued by a powerful new friend. She survives the ordeal, only to find herself held captive and presented with an impossible choice. While preparing for the unimaginable life she must now embrace clues soon emerge that Emily may not be entirely human, and her physical transformation awakens goddess-like powers that her new family cannot begin to explain. Dealing with her human first love, the not-so-platonic relationship with her coven “sister,” and her new vampire sort-of-boyfriend further complicates matters, not to mention being secretly hunted by the psychopaths who attacked her. And as the only known offspring of a once all-powerful race, the climactic battle is only the beginning of her journey.

Dangerous Waters: Excerpt, Rated R

Fight or flight

“Would you stop already?” Teresa grumbled, glaring at her ever-pacing brother. “No one’s following us. Relax.”
Travis finished scanning Beacon Street and ducked back into the alleyway. “God damn it! Do you ever listen? I told you we had to cool it for a while. What the hell were you thinking?”
“The bitch spilled her drink on me.”
He sighed and tiredly rubbed his eyes. Arguing with her was like trying to reason with a bratty three-year-old grabbing candy in a grocery checkout line. “So we’re homeless because someone accidentally got diet coke on your shirt?”
“Quit being such a queen,” Teresa said with a huff. “You know Stefan thinks of us as his kids, which is totally weird by the way. All he’ll do is make us listen to his rules again. If you wouldn’t have talked me into running, we’d probably be watching TV by now.”
“If Stefan and Alexander just wanted to talk, they would’ve waited until we got back, not raided our feeding room like a two-man S.W.A.T. team. This is serious, Terr. If they find us, they’re going to kill us.”
For the first time in as long as he could remember, his snarky, narcissistic sister looked vulnerable. She crossed her arms to conceal her jittery hands and looked into his eyes. “So what do we do? I’m not living on the street again, or in the skuzzy-ass hotels we used to stay in.”
Travis placed a comforting hand on his baby sister’s shoulder. “Things aren’t like they used to be, sis. Even you have to admit that Stefan taught us a hell of a lot. Once we get out of town, we can trance a bank manager and get all the money we need. I thought we’d head south—you always wanted to see Orlando.”
Acting as if he hadn’t even spoken, Teresa shrugged off his hand and headed further down the dimly lit alley, veering around overflowing dumpsters and piles of loose garbage before slumping back against the brick wall behind her. “And what about the skank who started all this? We just leave her to her fairy-tale life, sipping wine in her mansion? No fucking way.”
Anger coursed through his veins at his sister’s jealousy and unfounded arrogance. “Wake up!” Travis screamed, shaking her shoulders so violently that her teeth rattled. “You think you can take her? You don’t know jack shit. Raven’s been training for almost two hundred years, Einstein. She’d tear your ass apart like a piñata.”
Teresa rolled her eyes and pushed his hands away. “Not Raven, you douche.  I’m talking about Emily.”
“Emily? What the hell did she do?”
“If she wouldn’t have wandered up to us like a lost puppy, we would never have fed with Alexander there, and Stefan would still be clueless. The bitch led Raven right to our door.”
“Oh come on. That’s a reach, even for you. Raven lied to her about our scent. You’re really going to blame her for that?”
She shot her brother a disgusted look. “I knew making her strip was a bad idea. All it takes is a flash of boobs and you turn to mush. Are you ever going to grow a pair? You’d still be Keri’s lapdog if it wasn’t for me.”
“Oooh, don’t talk about my precious Keri,” Teresa mocked. “God you’re a pussy. She was never going to turn you, and you know it.”
Travis looked away to conceal the pain on his face. Sometimes he questioned whether there was anything decent left in his sister at all. Every year she became darker and even more detached. “That doesn’t mean I wanted her to die. I loved her. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Love shmove. You wanted to become immortal. I did you a favor when I torched her.”
“A favor? Are you serious? I asked her to marry me that night!” He caught just a hint of a smile on Teresa’s lips and froze. “You knew—that’s why you did it, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, ri—“
Like a stroke of lightning Travis smashed his fist into the brick wall just to the right of her head, opening up a gaping hole into the vacant building behind her. “Don’t you fucking lie to me! I swear to God I’ll kill you!”
Teresa calmly ducked out from under his arm and dusted the debris off her shirt. “So what if I did know about your pathetic little proposal? Did you forget your promise to our parents, dear brother? Ten years is a long time. Remember the ambulance ride? Mom coughing up blood, and dad, well, dad wasn’t doing much of anything come to think of it. Hard to blame the guy, since he had a piece of metal stuck in his head. You promised them that you’d always look out for me—swore on your life actually. Where did I fit in your little family? You really think Keri would’ve let me keep living with you? She hated me.”
Travis collapsed to the ground and clutched his knees to his chest, tears stinging at his eyes. Hearing his sister’s twisted rationale for taking away the woman who’d turned his life around was unbearable. “How can you say that? She paid for you to go back to school. She even decked out your room with all the shit on your insane ‘must-have’ list. She was going to ask you to be her maid of honor.”
“And when was she going to make me her sister? That’s right. Never. All she had to do was say yes.”
“Yes? Yes to what?” He stared at her in total confusion until it suddenly dawned on him. “Our walk in the park—you followed us.”
“Of course. I’d only been pushing you to ask her for, like, three years.”
“So when she said she’d marry me, but she would never change me—”
“I knew I had to take matters into my own hands,” Teresa finished. “I figured she’d never be more distracted than that night. Boy was I right. She didn’t even wake up until the gas splashed her face. Once I lit the match, all she could do is run around screaming. I’m glad you were at class. It was kinda gross watching her face melt away.”
Memories of that horrible night flooded his mind. The rancid stench of burnt flesh and hair when he walked through the door had made him gag. He’d raced upstairs, terrified that his sister had fallen asleep with her bong and died in the resulting fire, only to find her calmly watching TV with his fiancé’s charred corpse lying at her feet. “You are seriously messed up,” he muttered without meeting her ice cold eyes. “You know that, right?”
Teresa wrapped a strand of her curly blonde hair around her finger. “Whatever. We’re immortal now—that’s all that matters.”
They both slipped back into the shadows when two figures emerged at the end of the alley, continuing on without even a glance in their direction. He found it hard to even look at Teresa now that he understood what had truly happened that night, and how easily he’d been manipulated into playing his part, but in the end it changed nothing. He’d never go back on his vow to their parents. Protecting her was his penance. “It’s too dangerous for us to stay here,” Travis said. “Will you at least come with me to Florida?”
“Once I choke the last breath out of that little whore, you can take me wherever you want.”
Travis slicked back his long, brown hair. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, we do it my way. Agreed?”
She raised her shoulders in an indifferent shrug. “As long as she dies, I’m good with whatever.”
“Their house is only a few miles from here. It’s surrounded by woods, so there are plenty of spots where we’ll be able to hear what’s going on inside without risking being seen. As soon as she’s left alone, you can have your fun, but we’re waiting as long as it takes for that to happen. Even Sandy has had decades of training, and I’m not dying for your stupid vendetta.”
“Hi ho, hi ho, off to kill a bitch we go,” Teresa sang out, dancing down the alley ahead of him like a schoolgirl.

C.M Michaels grew up in a small town in northern Michigan as the youngest child of a close-knit family of seven. He met his wife, Teresa, while attending Saginaw Valley State University. Together they’ve provided a loving home for several four-legged “kids”, including Sophie, their eternally young at heart, hopelessly spoiled Spaniel.

He has always enjoyed writing, and still has fond memories of reading his first book, a children’s novella, to local grade schools when he was 14. Dangerous Waters, the first book in the Sisters in Blood series, is being published by Freya’s Bower on September 5th, 2013. C.M. is currently working on the second book in the Sisters in Blood series along with a Fantasy romance.

When he’s not writing, C.M. can be found curled up with a good book, watching movies or hitting the hiking trails with his wife. An avid reader since discovering Jim Kjelgaard novels in early childhood, his favorite authors include Kelley Armstrong, Peter V. Brett, Richelle Mead, Rachel Caine, Cassandra Claire, J.R. Ward, Laini Taylor and Tessa Dawn.

C.M. currently resides in Louisville, Kentucky.

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Saturday, September 14, 2013

Never Say That's The End

Please Welcome Author Icy Snow

Often someone will write a story, finish it and consider it done. That’s that.  On to something else.

Once again, I finished a novel.

Once again I decided that was that.

Once again, I was wrong.

I had written a novel, Three Moon Station.  It was a bit unusual in that it was a cross-genre—a Western set in the far future on another planet. A sci-Fi/western, if you will.  The hero rides a horse and flies his drone only in emergencies.  He carries a pistol strapped to his thigh, but it’s a laser.  Justice is sometimes swift, without calling in the Federation marshal. In this story Sar Trant, a Tritomitian station owner, saves the heroine, Katy from the villain—a rustler by the way--rescues her from the clutches of her dastardly uncle, and attaines their happily ever after.

The book was published and I went on to other stories, other couples, and other adventures.

Hold on there, podnuh!

Did I say the story was finished?  Unfortunately for me (or fortunately, as the case may be), a reviewer liked Three Moon Station so much, she wanted more, and I—lapping up the praise and flattery—got to thinking. This time it was about Sar and Katy and Hatch, and what might possibly have happened after Hatch did his “happy dance” in the farmyard while his father and stepmother went into a clinch and the words “The End” appeared at the bottom of the page.

I went back over what I’d written about Sar, knowing full-well the next tale was going to center on him and not Katy who’d wholeheartedly forsaken Terra for her husband’s planet.  Let’s see…Sarkin Trant…orphan since a young age…raised by his father’s best friend…had a son at the age of fifteen…married Katy at age thirty-five, and…the most important fact…descended from the illegitimate son of an Arcanian giarl.

That fact led to the story The Finer Gentleman, taken from a quote from Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations:

“He would be the finer gentleman that should leave the world without having tasted of lying or pretence of any sort, or of wantonness or conceit...”

wherein one Sarkin Trant learns he’s now the twenty-eighth giarl of Craigsmere and thirteenth in line to the Arcanian throne, goes to Arcanis and sets the nobility on its collective ear.  He also meets the margrave, Darien-Marcus, his distant cousin.

The Finer Gentleman was also cross-genre, being part futuristic tale and part Regency romance.  Take away the space travel, lasers, and outer-worldly trappings, close your eyes and listen to the dialogue, and see if you don’t agree.

After its publication, Darien-Marcus kept popping into my mind, reminding me of the little hints given about him in The Finer Gentleman.  He demanded I tell everyone what was happening to him while Cousin Sar was growing up on Tritomis-2 and elaborating on those little hints…how he was also orphaned at age nine and raised by his father’s best friends. From there on, here his story takes a much different course from Sar’s…he was given a mistress at age twelve, a wife at age thirteen, and at nineteen, developed a tremendous desire to rebel all on his own. How he, too, had set the nobility on its ear, in his own way.

I bowed to popular demand…and In this Kingdom by the Sea was the result. The title comes from Edgar A. Poe’s poem Annabel Lee:

“I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea…”

It’s the story of a child king, a husband and a ruler by the age of thirteen, a young man who, when he meets his cousin, will delight in sitting on a balcony and “lighting up” with said cousin and then both getting so snockered on royal wine they can barely stand in the receiving line given in Sar’s honor.

Darien-Marcus may be royal but he’s a descendant of Riven kan Ingan, called the Heretic, the barbarian progenitor of the royal family which has ruled for 3000 years. Rebellion is in his genes and his behavior proves it.

It was a fun story and I enjoyed writing it.  Though it seems to start off like a Young Adult novel, it very quickly grows, just as Darien-Marcus does, into a full-fledged adult one.

 I think readers will see that and enjoy it, too.


“Sire, this is Jantzen lo Reza, Giarl Alpheus.” Tyron introduced the man.
“Sire,” the man bowed. When Darien acknowledged it with one of his own, he looked at the little girl. “And may I present my daughter, Ariadne?”
“My Lady Ariadne.” Dutifully, Darien bowed to her, taking the hand she offered him as she curtseyed. She reacted more as a child then a noblewoman would, however. Looking up at him and then down at her hand, she giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Darien released her hand, brushing back his hair, which had fallen over his forehead as he dipped his head. He thought she was pretty, in a way. She was wearing a white ruffled dress, white stocking and slippers, and had bouncy blonde curls. Her hair was just a shade lighter than his own which probably meant she was a relative of some kind, but her eyes were blue so the relationship wasn’t very close.
You are.” She giggled again.
I am?” That made his color rise slightly, his fair cheeks reddening. I’m missing my game to be told I’m funny? He affected a bit of bluster and a slightly insulted air. “Where exactly am I funny?”  
“Your hair tickled my hand.” She reached up and flicked a finger at one of the wheat-colored curls returning to hang over his forehead. There was a glint of a mischievous smile. She bit her lower lip. He saw she had a tooth missing, one of her front ones. Her words came out with a bit of a whistle.         
“Oh.” He raked a hand through his hair. It straightened, then re-curled, falling over his left eye again. This time, he ignored it.
“I’m Darien,” he said after a long silence.
“I know.”
“My father told me we were coming to meet the margrave, and then Lord Summerlee introduced us, so I guessed you must be the one I’m supposed to meet.”
“He didn’t say my name, though,” Darien pointed out. “So I might just be someone who works in the palace. A page, or a messenger boy.”
“A messenger boy they call Sire and bow to? Of course.” She smiled, teeth glinting around the missing one. “You’re Darien-Marcus san Gene, Lord Lindenscraig, Crown Prince of Arcanis.”
“All right,” he acknowledged. “So you know who I am, but I don’t know you, except your name. Tell me about Ariadne lo Reza.”
“Very well.” Raising her head, she began to recite in a singsong, “My name is Ariadne, Lady Ariadne. My father is Jantzen, fifteenth Lord Alpheus. I live in southern Francovia just near the Snow King Mountains. I’m ten.”
“I’m thirteen,” he told her. “That’s nearly a grown-up according to the law.” He wondered if he should mention the girl he had at the Pleasure Dome, which definitely signified he was an adult, then decided not to. “Uncle Tyron said I should entertain you, so what shall we talk about?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never spoken to a margrave before.”
“It’s just like speaking to anyone else, I imagine, except you have to curtsey and say, Your Majesty, more,” he explained, searching for some topic. “Technically, I’m not a margrave, not until I’m crowned, anyway.” His etiquette tutor told him to ask about a person’s interests. Talking about something they knew always put them at ease, he said. “Do you like hunting?”
“Not really.” She grimaced. “I don’t like to kill things.”
“Oh.” Well, scratch that off the list then. Darien tried again. “How about sailing? I’ve my own boat. It’s anchored at the city marina in Jestey.”
“I’m afraid of water.” She shivered slightly, then went on as if defending her fear, “The ocean’s so big and deep, it’s scary.” Her blue eyes got round. “And there are monsters…”
“Don’t be silly.” His laugh was scornful. “The Great Ocean doesn’t have anything in it bigger than a three-foot sunfish.”
“It doesn’t?” She looked slightly disappointed.
“So you don’t swim, then, I imagine.” Abruptly, he thought he’d like to see her in the water, her skin tinted a pale green by the ocean’s darkness, hair like seaweed floating on its surface. He imagined she’d look like a mermaid. That sent an odd little tingle through his belly and it shook him slightly because he’d only felt it before when he was with Mirelle, his mistress.
“No, but we couldn’t swim together anyway. That’s not allowed,” she reminded him.
“Hm. That’s a stupid law, I think.” He considered a moment. “Perhaps when I’m truly margrave, I’ll repeal it. Would you let me teach you to swim after I do? There’s a pool in the cadets’ barracks I’m allowed to use.” He leaned closer, whispering, “I could smuggle you in.”
She giggled again, but from the way her eyes brightened he thought she might agree to such an adventure. Suddenly, Darien wished that could happen. He envisioned himself and Ariadne tiptoeing down the stairs to the pool area, getting out of their clothes, and diving into the clear, warm water. A sudden frisson trickled along his spine. Then another thought intruded.
“How about riding? I’ve my own stable of horses.”
“I’ve never ridden a horse,” she apologized. “But I do have a pony.”
“Well, that’s almost the same thing,” he allowed.
“Darien,” Tyron said. “The Tripod and Lady Ariadne’s father have come to a decision.”
“Yes sir?” Darien looked at Lord Summerlee, relieved that he didn’t have to search for any more topics of conversation. He was rapidly running out of subjects. Girls, he was discovering, were difficult to talk to. Ariadne, especially. She didn’t seem to like anything he did.
“We wish you and Lady Ariadne to marry.”
“Not today?” The change in the boy’s expression was remarkable and if he hadn’t looked so shocked, it might have been amusing, especially when he added, “I’ll miss my mallowick match.”
“Of course not,” Tyron assured him. “Later.”           
“Oh, well, that’s all right then.” He looked at Ariadne, then back at Tyron. “May I go now? The game starts in fifteen minutes and I’ve still got to suit up.”
“Yes, Darien.” A little discourteous, perhaps, but the boy’s relief was so great, Tyron had to smile. “You’re excused.”
Bowing to everyone, the soon-to-be-margrave bolted from the room.
“That was just a trifle rude,” Jantzen remarked, looking at the doors swinging shut in Darien’s wake.
“The boy’s just shy of thirteen. Give him a little leeway,” Tyron defended his sovereign.
Galloping down the three flights of stairs, Darien found Orion, arms filled with mallowick gear, waiting at the bottom of those on the first story. Behind him, Daneel loitered, tagging along, as usual. He was too young to play but, as the captain’s brother, he’d been made official mascot for the team, and ran up and down before the spectators waving a banner on which the team’s symbol, a flying hawk, was painted.
“What took you so long?” Rion was already dressed in gaming wear, helmet, padded chest plate and knee boots, and fairly dancing with impatience. “The game’s about to start.”
“I had some official business to take care of.” Darien said it offhandedly as he took his helmet and put it on.
“Since when do you have official business?”
“Since I’m about to have my thirteenth birthday.” He fastened the head strap and adjusted the padded section so it rested directly against his chin.
“That’s right. I forgot.” Orion looked thoughtful. “That means you’ll become margrave pretty soon, and then you’ll really be our ruler.”
“I certainly will.” It was said with satisfaction. They were at the exit from the castle now, going through the door. The sentries there bowed and Darien acknowledged them with a wave as he pulled the chest plate from Orion’s hands and thrust his arms through the shoulder straps. Behind them, Daneel double-timed it, his fat little legs pumping to keep up.
“Darien, your becoming margrave isn’t going to make a difference is it? In our being friends, I mean.”
“Not a bit,” Darien declared. “There’s something else that might, though.”
“What?” Orion looked anxious.
“Uncle Tyron has decided I should marry.”
“It isn’t going to be today is it?” Orion’s anxiety changed to anger. “Damn it, that’ll ruin our game schedule.”
“He said it’d be later.”
“How much later?” Orion sounded suspicious.
“Years from now, I hope. Ariadne’s pretty young.”
“Ariadne lo Reza?” Daneel piped up. “She’s kind of pretty.”
“I agree,” Darien answered. “But silly. She laughed because my hair fell in my face when I bowed to her.”
“Girls are like that,” Orion agreed while Daneel snorted scornfully. “They laugh at the oddest things.”
“I hope she stops doing it. I’d hate to have a wife who sounds so addlepated.”
“Stop thinking about her.” Orion slapped his shoulder and handed him his mallowick bat. “We’ve a game to win.”
The prince, his best friend, and his brother hurried across the palace courtyard, aiming themselves for the playing field where the two teams consisting of giarls’ sons and Orion’s two younger brothers waited before a gathering of spectators to begin their game.          

Three Moon Station and The Finer Gentleman are available from Class Act Books.

Here are embed codes for trailers if you can use them:

Three Moon Station: <iframe width="560" height="315" src="//" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

The Finer Gentleman: <iframe width="420" height="315" src="//" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

In This Kingdom: <iframe width="560" height="315" src="//" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Friday, September 6, 2013

10% off print books from DWB

Dancing With Bear Publishing is having a sale... 

10% off any book on both sites, when using code 6N6Q58KZat checkout.
This is good only for print books bought on through our site. (No Amazon or other stores).
That's 10% off Sled Dog Tales

That's 10% off It's Not You - It's Them