Short Story Excerpt: FOR THE BIRDS

 Culver took position behind M'kar, one hand gripping her shoulder, ready to offer psi energy to brace her if necessary. The fact that she didn’t feel that humming sense of his presence and psionic strength encouraged her. It meant he trusted her to handle this without his help.

Greetings in Enlo’s peace, she called, making it a prayer as well as a gesture of friendship, and slowly lowered her outer mental shield.

Her first impression was of rising fury and terror in the birds, conflicting waves of icy, jagged teeth and scorching thorns. All that jangled and twisted sideways when the subliminal clang of the airlock opening vibrated through the ship. Taking a deep breath, she reached for memories of the floating sensation that came from entering the mind-circle with her Infrenx classmates, to spread through the mental contact and calm and sooth the birds. She needed them to accept her alien touch as friendly before she could penetrate their panic and jealousy and convince them it was good for Shay and his people to return to their own nests.

Her mental barrier sifting out the negative "blips" from the birds shuddered when it slipped, just for a moment, allowing more than their emotions through. The stench that reached her through the birds' noses was thick and gritty and pungent. The birds considered it normal, and even liked it. She fought not to let her initial nauseated reaction slip and undo all the good she was somehow managing. A friend who was sickened by their ordinary, comfortable world wasn’t a friend. Birds were especially sensitive to those who camouflaged themselves; bodies, scents, sounds, and minds.

Liars.

M’kar knew right then the ambassador hadn’t revealed even a fraction of a percent of the situation. These birds were too highly aware and intelligent, if they could grasp the concept of lies and liars and betrayal.

And still that stench thickened and coated her throat and reached down to her stomach. She tasted the fetid thickness and grit in the air.

Her throat ached with the effort not to gag and heave.

A single sharp thread wove through her brain, threatening a strain headache. M’kar reached into the center of calm she had learned in Infrenx class and pushed it out to share with the minds swirling all around her.

The churning of the bird minds smoothed out and calmed in spreading ripples. 

They were listening to her. They were aware she was something new.

This story is available as an ebook download from Ye Olde Dragon Books.

Short Story Excerpt: FOR THE BIRDS

 

M’kar was stunned when Captain Hollis revealed she was part of the reason the Defender had been assigned to assist the ambassador’s party. Shay had sent to the Academy, requesting the immediate assistance of a strong animal-focused Talent, able to endure difficult and uncomfortable environments, handle large numbers of strong-willed animal minds simultaneously, and impress a culture that admired agility, strength, and skill with knives. He didn’t ask for a recommendation, however. He wanted verification that the Talent he was requesting could handle the task.

“I don’t understand, sir,” she said, when Captain Hollis revealed that information in the privacy of his ready room. “It’s a migrant fleet, with people living on ships for decades, generations. I’ve seen some of the stats and specs for the fleet and –”

“How?” Her captain closed his eyes and shook his head. “Dumb question. Forget I said that. Of course, Lore is going to have his connections and get data that isn’t supposed to be released for general knowledge yet.” He sighed and opened his eyes. “I imagine he was babbling when he got hold of the report, and you were there with Treinna and overheard more than you wanted to.” 

“Pretty much.” M’kar decided her captain didn’t need to know that Lt. Genys Arroyan and Medic Tahl were present as well. They were visiting Treinna when Jasper returned to their quarters after duty shift, babbling pure exasperation and disbelief at the engineering impossibilities present in the Banscraqi fleet. 

Off the Bookshelf: WITCHES GET STUFF DONE, by Molly Harper

 

Audiobook, Audible Exclusive

Narrated by Amanda Ronconi and Teddy Hamilton

First book in the Starfall Point series

Guilty pleasure time! Molly Harper comes through yet again in a fun, slightly scary, slightly steamy romance.

This time, our heroine finds out she's got a somewhat creepy magical heritage, and it's a learn-on-the-job situation. 

Riley heads to an island in Lake Michigan to meet an aunt she never knew she had, who only contacted her after her mother's death. After a miserable, seasick ferry boat ride, she has a series of shocks, one after another, that would send a less tough chick running for her life. Or at least her sanity. First, her aunt died while she was on her way to the island. Second, she's inherited a mansion full of ghosts who need to be wrangled. And third, she's a witch, with powers that come uncomfortably to life when she sets foot on the island.

And oh yeah, Edison, the hot guy who hogged the ferry's bathroom so she had to heave over the side of the boat, has a lot of issues of his own to deal with, while Riley is learning how to handle the ghosts, starting with a snooty butler, work through a scavenger hunt set up by her late aunt, and face a threat from evil nemeses of her ancestors. But of course you know they'll get together -- Riley and Edison -- because this is Molly Harper, queen of humorous, steamy paranormal romance. 

Word of caution: if you have an overactive imagination like me, you might not want to listen to this one late at night, in the dark, during a storm ... just saying ...

Short Story Excerpt: FOR THE BIRDS

 Usually, the details of why exactly the Defender had to get involved, and the expertise of a specific member of the crew was needed, came while the ship was still gaining speed on its new heading. This time, however, the details didn’t arrive after two hours. Then a full day on the new heading. Then two days. Once the ship crossed over into unfamiliar territory, the missing details made Captain Hollis’s personal alarms ring louder than ever before.

When the delayed details finally came, he was dangerously close to being numb from the tension. According to his personal log:

 

Three lines into this assignment briefing, I started thinking I was the reason for the change of course. As soon as I saw my old friend Declan’s name as leader of the team, I got that sick certainty. Friendship debts make it impossible for me to cash in any of the favors my crew and I earned from the last few skin-of-our-teeth missions to get another ship and captain to switch places with us.

Then a paragraph later, my feelings of guilt toward my crew, who certainly deserve a longer break between crises and puzzles, turned to absolute head-twisting confusion, and then the awful suspicion that someone, somewhere, is laughing at me. And still hiding details.

Don’t any of those arrogant, know-it-all paper-pushers at HQ know how to read? Can’t they remember from one dec to the next that I and my ship don’t do diplomacy? No, correct that – we shouldn’t do diplomacy. How many brain-twisted, delusional diplomats do we have to rescue from their own arrogance and stupidity? And then instead of a little well-deserved appreciation they try to foist all their stupidity and bad choices on us instead of acting like the adults they pretend to be. Can’t they keep it straight in their bureaucratic heads that the farther my crew stays away from diplomats and ambassadors and negotiators and bureaucrats, the better for the entire Alliance? Because I’ve warned them nobody threatens my crew when they’ve risked their lives for arrogant buffoons who won’t admit they don’t know down from up. Forget the Alliance – for the universe in general.

Yet here we are, being assigned to assist a diplomatic mission.

Because despite my documented allergy to diplomats and ambassadors and people who insisted on using thirty fancy words where four simple, clear words – and too often, preferably a good right hook – will do, old friends and their requests for my help always overrule common sense and the rules of survival. My oldest friend since my first term in Basic needs me. Ambassador Declan Shay. Well, not just me. My ship. Specifically two junior members of my crew. I have to wonder, reading the specifics, if it’s just more of the Defender’s misfit luck at work here, and if they were on another ship if I wouldn’t be involved at all.

Somehow, that suspicion doesn’t give me any relief.

Because here’s the crux of the ugly knot sucking us in to tangle the Defender in another flustergating situation: I’m afraid my old school friend has finally met a culture and a negotiation he can’t unravel and untangle and find some sense in it, somewhere, somehow.

This short story is available for sale at Ye Olde Dragon Books.

Short Story Excerpt: FOR THE BIRDS

 

The Early Years in the adventures of the AFV Defender, before Genys was captain and M'kar was Chief of Talents, and Treinna was head of Linguistics/Communications.

M'kar's royal status on Nisandros, her psionic training with Master Reydon and Infrenx class, and teaching self-defense and Nisandrian culture classes at the Academy resulted in her leaping ranks when she graduated from Basic and went to her first ship in the Fleet. Instead of ensign, she was a lieutenant junior grade. Her Talent, a strong animal-focused psi rating along with the ability to sense emerging psionic Talents in others, was rare enough that the top-line E&D ships had first priority in requesting her. This high ranking also gave her some freedom in requesting her first posting. She knew exactly where she wanted to go.

Genys Arroyan and Treinna and Jasper Lore were all serving on the Defender by this time. They petitioned Captain Rob Hollis to request M'kar. Fleet had learned decades ago that the most efficient crews had strong personal relationships, preferably with some history between them before being assigned to the ship. Having friends already on board went a long way toward granting M'kar's request to be assigned to the Defender, with direct report to Chief of Talents Lt. Cmdr. Culver.

Fleet was coming to depend on the ship and crew's misfit luck to pull off miracles and find answers that everyone else felt sure had been blown to stellar dust. So when the Defender got orders taking them far from their assigned exploration-and-patrol route to assist a diplomatic team, no one immediately questioned the change in orders. It was becoming standard practice. 

This story is available for sale as a short story ebook at Ye Olde Dragon Books, and on Nook, Kindle, iTunes, and most other ebook sites.

Get Ready For Storytelling!

 

We're almost ready to launch!

Coming in January, you'll be able to hear weekly installments from a current work-in-progress, and have a chance to offer input right here on the blog.

Look for the Ye Olde Dragon's Library podcast appearing soon in most directories.

We'll also soon have a Patreon page, where you can help support this podcast (because it's not free to produce or distribute) and in return have a chance to claim free short stories, exclusive audio bits that result from your input, and access to ebook, audiobook, and print copies of the finished book before they're available in stores and online. Plus other goodies such as maps of the lands the characters will be exploring, and maybe even character sketches. And how about a limited edition hardcover book, with the  maps and sketches included?

Details will be announced at the end of each podcast, so don't skip an episode!

Please?

What's first on the agenda?

If you've read any of the stories in the Fairytale Anthologies and Classic Monster Anthologies from Ye Olde Dragon Books, then you've probably met 'Na, Ambrose, and Fang the bunny, and traveled through the enchanted forest and the enchanted castle. This story, tentatively titled Liar's Quest, starts the story of how 'Na's parents came to the enchanted castle, got trapped, freed themselves, became legends in their own rights, defeated evil Prince Ruprick (father of rather goofy Prince Ruprick in the 'Na stories), and became magic de-tanglers and fixers.

The story is written, but I'll be making revisions as I narrate each episode -- and you'll get to weigh in, right here, when I ask for input on different parts of the story. And if I use your suggestions, you'll have your name on the acknowledgements page!

Ready for some fun?

Keep watch, and subscribe when you get the chance!

Short story excerpt: THE SHORT-LIVED ESCAPE OF JORONO CYNES, an AFV Defender story

 The small buildings were nearly uniform, all cubes three meters high and maybe eight meters wide and ten meters deep, with a door on the right side, and a slit across the remainder of the front of each building. M’kar watched through several sets of drac eyes as people opened the door to step into a building with their burdens. They came back out a few moments later empty-handed, and pushed up on the top portion of the slit in the front wall. Support bars dropped down as the top half lifted upward, and it turned into an awning, extending out into the clearing.

It's an open air market, Thyal said, after M’kar watched a dozen more buildings be opened, and bundles and crates unloaded and shared the images with him.

It’s an illegal market.

I still don’t understand why Tress thought she smelled hooples, though, he said, after they watched a few proprietors set about assembling racks outside their shops.

M’kar didn’t respond. She focused on a heavy-set figure that had emerged from the jungle. She sent the dracs up for reconnaissance and backtracked him, discovering a path through the jungle. That path led down past the place where Tress had caught the scent of hooples. M’kar held still, watching the figure who was little more than a dark silhouette.

Then he stepped into the light and paused, turning from side to side to study the bustle of the half-assembled market.

Is that --? Thyal made a mental sound that equated with choking.

Jorono Cynes. Only the need for silence kept M’kar from spitting. That explains the hoople smell. Tress either caught a glimpse of him, or she heard him -- he talks to himself constantly, he’s talking to himself now. She didn’t know what she heard or saw, but it translated into hooples in her head.

How had Cynes escaped custody and the sentence that guaranteed he stay under strict watch and unable to travel the galaxy for the rest of his days? Had he gotten his hands on hooples, despite all the precautions taken to keep hooples from falling into anyone’s hands, much less his?

What are you going to do? Is it going to be fun? Thyal’s chuckle held all the mischief of their childhood adventures and exploits.

I certainly hope so.

M’kar left the dracs patrolling the sky while she headed back up the slope. The first thing to do was let Tress and Jorgan know they had done very good, then send them back to the camp. She sent Barroo back to Decker, requesting he send Spitfire to escort the children. M’kar paused a moment to be grateful Treinna hadn’t yet sent Moonrise back down to the camp to spend the night with Tress. Explaining what her daughter was doing right now might be tricky. Especially if she had to calm a panicky drac who only knew that this situation wasn’t what her Human parent expected. M’kar swore she could hear Decker bellow when he read the last part of her message, which she had scratched into the plasti-strip, because there was no code to stand for the most important words in the message: Cynes here.

Spitfire popped in, spitting and snarling, but quietly. Barroo brought M’kar a plasti-strip with two words code punched into it: Wait. Coming. 

“Thought you might want to join the fun,” she whispered, and gestured for Tress and Jorgan to obey Spitfire and go. She settled down where she could comfortably sit and close her eyes and really concentrate on what the dracs were showing her of the market as it opened. She saw enough details that she had a plan by the time Decker marched up the slope to join her, seething and yet somehow silent with his intensity.

Short story excerpt: THE SHORT-LIVED ESCAPE OF JORONO CYNES, an AFV Defender story

 

With Spitfire cleared and set free to go back to playing, hopefully wiser and willing to follow instructions, the two of them could turn back to helping Decker attend to the children in the post-dinner lesson and storytelling time. Currently they were sitting in a clump on the other side of the camp from the medical tent. Their adoration-mixed-with-terror for the Security Chief ensured that when he snarled and marched back and forth in front of them, hands clasped behind his back and shoulders hunched, they listened. Even more important, they remembered what he told them.

Currently, Decker regaled them with one horror story after another about ensigns and new graduates of the Academy who messed up big time. They thought they were experts in wilderness survival, but took two steps beyond the sensor field protecting their camp on their first dirtside mission, and immediately faced disaster.

“And don’t you forget, you smelly lumps of walking bait, we got no sensor fields or even those sissy vermin repulsion fields, so everything’s zooming in on you right this second, drooling over the snack they’re gonna make out of you!”

M’kar noted that Decker at least had the sense to vary the many and messy disasters the arrogant, careless idiots encountered. So far, while she hadn’t really been paying conscious attention, she had heard about three arms, six legs, and various hands and feet that were lost, either swallowed whole or mangled so badly they couldn’t be regenerated before various disgusting flesh-eating bacteria set in or venom melted flesh off bones, along with large chunks of flesh bitten away so various organs were revealed. When that happened, usually the companions of the said careless idiots had weak stomachs and were too busy losing their last four meals to apply medical aid. Someone always died in each story.

The children loved it, even as they cringed and squealed and made gagging noises. M’kar hoped she and Brea could find something suitably silly to entertain them before they curled up in their sleeping bags, to dilute the images in their minds and deflect nightmares.

“I’m thinking the older ones should get guard duty tonight. Wear them out, have them available during the period when nightmares usually hit, so they can help quiet down the ones who are noisy when they wake up crying.” She pitched her voice soft enough only Brea heard her, as they settled down between the fire pit and Decker’s audience. 

“All of them get guard duty. Prove to them that the shadows aren’t going to solidify and swallow them whole,” Brea countered. They locked gazes a moment, nodded, and turned back to listening to the end of Decker’s story.

Short story excerpt: THE SHORT-LIVED ESCAPE OF JORONO CYNES, an AFV Defender story

 M’kar stood at ready to use her animal-focused psionic Talent to assist Brea. The ship’s medic currently was bent over Spitfire, who obediently lay on her back, wings spread, legs splayed, while the woman ran a medical scanner over her. M’kar had to admit the little drac did an admirable job not swiping at the distraction of the flashing lights on the scanner. She hoped that was a result of Decker impressing on her how important it was to lie still for the make-feel-good-again-lady. The only alternative was that Spitfire’s calmness was a sign of just how sick she got from overindulging in some local berries that hadn’t been cleared by Brea’s medical scanner yet.

“How is she?”

“Better.”

“Honestly, I told her multiple times, but as soon as I turned my back, she cleared off half the bush so fast, half of what went down her gullet was leaves and bark.”

“I’m not blaming you.” Brea set down the scanner and brought out a strip of spiced goho jerky. “If I’m going to blast anyone for the situation we’re all in, I’ll go after the dee-ee who cursed us all by asking what could go wrong on a planet with no permitted technology.”

“You heard about him, huh?” M’kar shook her head at the obliviousness of one of the newer members of the crew. He hadn’t learned yet that asking such questions usually invited Fate to drop an entire garbage scow of trouble on the crew of the Defender. She hadn’t had to do anything to correct the dead-head. His friends standing around him at the display in the visitor welcome center had turned on him quickly enough and tried to hush him. But too late. She was just glad he wasn’t in her department, and had no Talent or potential whatsoever. That meant she had very little responsibility for correcting his thinking and training him not to jinx their current mission.

The two women shared a grin as Brea waved the jerky in front of Spitfire, then tossed it high overhead. The little pink drac squealed with delight. That proved she had been obedient, rather than lying at death’s door. She leaped straight up, popped out, then popped back in at the top of the arc, just as the piece of meat started to drop. She snapped it out of the air and popped out again. Spitfire was no dummy. She knew better than to linger around the campsite, where the other dracs might get a whiff of her treat and try to persuade her to share.

Besides being a reward and a signal that the medical examination had ended, the goho jerky had an added ingredient, to purify her blood and finish the recovery process. M’kar thought about how droopy and clumsy Barroo had been for several hours after he woke up from an allergy-induced hibernation when he indulged yesterday. She thanked Enlo once again that her crewmate enjoyed experimenting with and studying natural compounds and discovering new healing potions and powders.

Short story excerpt: THE SHORT-LIVED ESCAPE OF JORONO CYNES, an AFV Defender story

 

A story between novels.

 

The crew of the Defender had run afoul of the irritating, silly little con man Jorono Cynes one time too many. He was supposed to be in custody for the rest of his life, but somehow Cynes showed up in the middle of a shore leave that was anything but relaxing.

 

Lt. M'kar and Security Chief Decker were supposed to be guiding some of the ship's children through a wilderness survival experience, but even though they were on shore leave, they knew their duty. They had to deal with Cynes and get him back into the hands of the authorities ASAP.

 

And if they could have some fun and frighten the irritating little troublemaker while they were at it, all the better.

Novella ebook available at Ye Olde Dragon Books and any online vendor.

“I’ve got an idea,” Chief Linguist Treinna Lore said, coming into a meeting of the drac parents and other command crew who had gathered after the latest intrusion.

The big draw of the planet Mendax was also a factor in the problems the crew of the Defender were facing. The government was desperate to become accepted as a member of the Alliance. They had thrown out the welcome mat to prove their world would be a good tourist planet, overflowing with natural resources. They treated Alliance diplomats and Fleet personnel like royalty. That meant the Defender crew who were on shore leave were given entire compounds for shore leave quarters, guaranteeing privacy and palatial accommodations. However, that generous welcome mat included refusing to screen anyone who wanted to come down to the planet, no matter how much of a perpetual ruckus was caused by people who wanted to get their hands on a drac. The “guaranteed privacy” of the compound they were currently meeting in sometimes failed through sheer force of numbers seeking out the presence of Fleet personnel. Even the most bumbling hunters could get lucky if there were enough of them stumbling around.

“Does it include making friends with that ship full of Ankuar that’s hovering at the outer orbital, and putting Security uniforms on them until the crisis is over?” Med Tech Brea asked.

Her lemon-yellow drac, Boomer, let out a series of chirps that certainly sounded like he was still irritated over the latest attempt. A group of loud, garishly dressed tourists (Captain Arroyan referred to them in her incident report as terrorists disguised as tourists) had broken into the sprawling compound the Defender crew had been staying in until two hours ago. This group of people worked on the assumption that if the dracs couldn’t see, they couldn’t teleport. They had tried to throw large boxes over the dracs. Boomer had shrieked fury and offended feelings. He had refused to be separated from Brea ever since then, and she complied eagerly. Fiercely.

“No, but I’ll hold onto it as a secondary plan.” Treinna gestured at M’kar but wouldn’t meet her gaze. That was a bad sign.  “The children have been begging M’kar to take them on a training campout,” she continued. “Ever since we returned to Mendax. That’s the easiest solution -- send them all away, send our dracs with them as guards, and impress on the entire ship’s complement of teacher dracs that they can’t come back to the ship until all the children come back. They might ignore us a lot of the time, but the teacher dracs are devoted to the children.” 

“I would love to head out into the wilderness and investigate some of the local wildlife, try those rapid-riders, do a little bow hunting,” M’kar said. “Some of the older children need a really tough wilderness survival session before they head to Fleet Academy. Just one little problem. We’d be heading off with a huge group of children and all the gear we’d need to feed and shelter them for a dec of camping. What’s to stop the wannabes from realizing what we’re doing and just swooping down with a shuttle and doing some kidnapping?” She pointed at the white noise device sitting in the center of the room, which made it impossible for people with listening devices to hear their discussion.

Ready for some STORYTELLING?

 

We're less than a month away from the launch of the YE OLDE DRAGON'S LIBRARY: Storytelling Podcast.

In December, I'll be revising the first book in the series about Ashlyn and Zared, and how they became the Beastly Beauty and the Disenchanted Prince, and just how Fang the bunny became a semi-vampire. You'll learn about the enchanted castle and the enchanted forest, and just why it's easier to get inside than get out!

Ready to sign up for the Patreon group and get exclusive content and voting rights on revisions and other details in the series?

I'll post that link soon, if I haven't done so already right here. (Yeah, I create these posts as much as a month ahead of time, so I haven't done this in November, but I hope to do that so you aren't reading this -- but if you are reading this ... I've fallen behind. Well, what do you expect, if I'm concentrating on writing and polishing the story for your listening pleasure?) Please consider signing up for the Patreon group, just a small monthly fee to help cover the expenses of uploading and distributing the podcast to nearly every available platform, so you can subscribe and listen each week, and not miss a thing!

Short story excerpt: CLASS REUNION, an Infrenx story

 Thyal chuckled and linked their arms. They set off down a paved pathway to the right and he increased their pace.

"Are we in a hurry to get somewhere?" she asked after several moments.

"Mysteries …" He winked, a most un-Le'ankan expression. "Father suggested I might be interested in something a ship of Gleaners brought for examination. Since the others are delayed – how long?"

"No telling. They'll contact me when Dulit arrives."

"Since we have some time to wait, I thought you might be interested also."

"You did say Gleaners? The garbage-pickers of the universe? The carrion-birds of every known stellar battle since spaceflight began? Gleaners?" She shook her head and let out a low whistle of amazement.

The path took them down a short tunnel, below a dividing wall older than the last major conflict to scar Le’anka. The wall stood there as a reminder and warning, of the damage that people could cause themselves when they tried to rewrite Enlo’s teachings to suit their tastes and inclinations, and put political expediency over truth and honor and purity of the soul.

"Exactly." His voice echoed softly against the tiles lining the tunnel.

"Does it give you a cold shudder of impending disaster? The idea of Gleaners sharing something they found? Before they could profit off it?  Yet it's totally in character with Gleaners to want all the profit, and trick others into doing all the work. Take all the risks."

They came up the tunnel on the other side of the wall and faced a dimpled landscape, with massive buildings for lecture halls, and facilities for scientific demonstrations. Each building sat in its own depression in the landscape, shielded and decorated by hedges and flowering trees that gave no indication of the serious, universe-shaking matters discussed and decided and discovered within those sedate walls.

"Father says Master Pejoris and his team theorize these Gleaners fear another faction of them will unlock this mysterious thing they can’t analyze. Before they figure out how to profit from it. They're desperate enough to win the race that they are asking for help."

"Enlo take me home now. I've seen it all," she murmured.

Thyal sighed. Their gazes met and they laughed quietly as they approached the double-wide, metal-bound doors of their destination. The building most often served as a lecture hall with amphitheater seating for four thousand. Analysis equipment was stored under the center platform and raised as needed. Containment facilities and equipment in this particular building, on the far side of the Academy grounds, made it useful for examining questionable materials.

They were quiet as they walked the last length of pathway to reach the building and went inside. The building’s passive security system scanned them for identification. Thyal’s master’s pin gleamed softly, pale blue for a moment, reading his bio-signs. M’kar’s locator wristband flashed green, acknowledgment of her identity and rank, and recording her location, if anyone in the Fleet might need to contact her. 

The Gleaner mystery object sat in the pit in the center of the vast hall, on the platform where a lecturer would stand. M'kar and Thyal stayed at the place where the doorway let them into the amphitheater seating, halfway between the roof and pit floor. They leaned on the railing and looked down into the pit. The craggy lump looked like dirty, metallic slag from more than a hundred meters away. M'kar guessed it to be maybe two meters tall, roughly ovoid, maybe six or seven meters around the widest circumference. 

Short story excerpt: CLASS REUNION, an Infrenx story

 "It's not real, is it?" The female voice that broke through the pleasant humming of relaxation in M’kar’s mind sounded far too young to hold such strong cynicism.

M'kar turned to gaze up four steps to the doorway of the contemplation pavilion. She had passed those five new students maybe twenty minutes ago. How had they found their way down here already? These contemplation pavilions should be marked as out of bounds for first-years. They were rather personal territory, established for each special class for a reason.

She knew if Thyal were here, he would tease her for being so territorial. Still, that girl’s tone of voice irritated her. Knowing her private quiet time had just died, M’kar stood and stepped out of the shadows and looked up the steps to the doorway. Five sets of eyes widened and flicked down and up and back and forth, translating the emblems and ranking marks on her uniform.

Lieutenant. Talents grouping. E&D ship assignment. The stylized shield emblem for the Defender.

None of those big, suitably impressed eyes flicked up high enough to catch on her facial tattoos: red lightning bolt on her left temple and blue lines extending her upper eyelids.

Thank Enlo.

M’kar could almost laugh. The first students within five meters of her who didn’t immediately stink of panic, silently shouting, What is that barbarian doing here on Le’anka?

"What isn't real?" M’kar asked.

"The sunbird." The smallest of the five, a boy, gestured into the center of the pavilion, at the infrenx.

"Here on Le'anka, it is an infrenx. On my father's homeworld, there is a similar creature, with a name that translates as emberwing." She held her breath, waiting for them to ask what her father's homeworld was.

"Sorry for disturbing you, Commander," the tallest girl said, giving her a little nod-bow.

M’kar decided to be generous and not correct her; lieutenant, not commander. "As your teachers will tell you many times in the years to come, the pursuit of knowledge and understanding is always disturbing to someone, but that is no reason to hesitate." 

"Always apologize, however," the smooth baritone voice of Master Scholar Thyal interposed. A moment later, robed in dun brown, with the infinity symbol pin of a master glistening at his throat, he stepped into view in the doorway behind the students. "Politeness is a mark of civilization. As the Lieutenant will testify, it knocks aggressors off balance and buys you valuable time."

Short story excerpt: CLASS REUNION, an Infrenx story

 

One of these days, I will write a book or two about the Academy years of Lt. M'kar, Thyal, and the other members of Infrenx, the special Talents class at the Academy on Le'anka. This short story, and several chapters in ETRUSCA'S VOW deal with those years.

This is a story set in the AFV Defender universe.

If you've read FRIENDLY FIRE, the first AFV Defender novel, then you heard about the battle that injured Thyal and sent M'kar on her quest .... and I won't say anything more if you haven't read the book yet. (Why haven't you?)

Available in ebook from Amazon and other online sites. And Ye Olde Dragon Books, of course.

Through the end of the month: excerpts from CLASS REUNION.

 

The Academy

Northern Continent of Le’anka

Headquarters of the Alliance

 M’kar stopped counting after the ninth student in the soft green robes of first-year students turned to stare at her as she walked through the central plaza of the Academy. She considered how her classmates would laugh if she remarked on how above-average the eyesight of first-year students was, compared with the students in their class. None of them had stared very long at her, when they were first gathered together in the garden of the home of their teacher, Premier Master Reydon.

In her dark silver-blue dress uniform, she should have blended in with all the other Fleet officers who were arriving at the start of the academic term, preparing to teach. Instead, she constantly drew second looks. Mouths dropped open and faces went pale when her gaze met theirs. More than she would have garnered if she walked across the plaza barefoot, with her favorite knife raised and dripping blood. From several dozen meters away, they couldn’t possibly see her facial tattoos and recognize her as Nisandrian. Could they? How, when she had such a deep tan from her last planetside mission? Did she have a sign hovering in the air above her head, flashing glowing letters, warning everyone to stay away from the barbarian? Or had someone she had clashed with during her own time here as a student decided to get revenge, and sent out her image and a warning, as soon as she landed on Le’anka and stepped onto Academy grounds?

Then again, it probably wasn’t a former classmate. More likely her father was punishing her for not coming to see him and her mother before she met with her classmates. Chieftain Ashrock of Nisandros was nearly a tourist attraction in his own right. He was probably wandering throughout the many paths of the Academy, looking for every first-year student, warning them to be on the lookout for his daughter, a Fleet officer, who was probably in a bad mood while she was separated from her ship.

Off the Bookshelf: MIND YOUR OWN MURDER, by Pattie Larsen

 

Persephone Pringle Cozy Mysteries: One

Our heroine needs some time away. As a counselor/therapist, she knows the value of a retreat to get organized and analyze, so she rents a cute little cottage in a shore community, and tries desperately to just get away from it all.

Her ex-husband won't leave her alone, her daughter won't leave her alone, and both of them think she needs a keeper. They might be right, since she stumbles into trouble with wacko neighbors on either side of the cottage, and realizes too late she's the newest point of acrimony in a community battle. Turns out the locals despise the tourists who come in and rent homes. According to the jerk who ran a stop sign and nearly hit her and then insisted it was her fault. And then the sheriff backs up the jerk. And then there's the rock through her window, telling her to go home. And then the dead body in the water, after she accused the same jerk of being the rock-thrower. And the fact that a lawn ornament in her rental cottage is the murder weapon. Which leads the jerk sheriff to accuse her of being the murderer.

It's kind of understandable why every time she makes up her mind what she's going to do to deal with the creeps and wackos, she ends up doing the opposite, despite knowing better. Especially when her FBI agent ex and their daughter keep trying to run her life from long distance. And then there's the anti-social cat that seems to love her, and the abused daughter who could be a killer. And then ...

Yeah, it's tangled and fast-moving and just when you want to take people and shake them until their eyeballs rattle, our heroine starts putting the pieces together. Whew!

Want To Hear a Story?

 

Starting in January, I'm going to launch a new venture -- a storytelling podcast.

Each week, you can listen to me reading a chapter from a work-in-progress. Then, you'll have a chance to ask questions and make suggestions and make guesses about what's going to happen next right here on this blog.

PLUS: If you join the Patreon group I'll be setting up in December, you'll have access to exclusive content, such as new bits I've thought of thanks to comments in the Patreon group and here, changes to scenes, a chance to vote on things such as the names of characters and places and even the title of the book, early access to the print and ebook and audiobook versions of the finished book, and limited edition hardback editions, with special extras such as maps, and maybe even sketches of characters, if I can find an artist to do that for me ....

Right now, I'm working on a book that has quite a few working titles. If you've read the short stories about 'Na, Ambrose, and Fang the bunny in the enchanted forest, appearing in the Ye Olde Dragon Books anthologies, When Your Beauty IS the Beast, Tales from the Tower, and Who's the Monster? then you're familiar with the world they live in, and you've heard about 'Na's parents. This first book starts the adventure of just how Ashlyn and Zared became the Beastly Beauty and the Disenchanted Prince, and how they met Fang the bunny and tamed the enchanted castle.

In fact, that's one of the first things Patrons will be able to vote on -- and you can offer suggestions about, here on the blog: the TITLE of the first book. I'm wavering back and forth between Taming the Enchanted Castle, The Beastly Beauty, or The Beastly Beauty, the Disenchanted Prince, and Fang the Bunny. Yeah, I know the last one is kind of long....

Anyway!! Stay tuned for updates, and please consider joining the Patreon group to help pay for the expenses of publishing and distributing the podcast .... which you will be able to listen to for FREE! Yeah, that last one is important ... But it will be available on most podcast platforms, such as iTunes, Spotify, etc.

Hope you're as excited about this as I am!

 

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

“Listen to your fellow warrior, mi’sho’ki,” Ashrock said, his voice coming from the shadows of the hallway. A moment later he came around the corner. He scowled at them, brow furrowed. “Didn’t we tell you both to find your beds? You have had a long, draining day, and the days ahead will be even more so. Go!” He made a shooing gesture down the hall.

M’kar laughed. “Tell me a bedtime story, Po’pa?”

“Ah, there, you see?” He sighed gustily and crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, still scowling, teasing, at the two children. “You win one small battle, and you think you know better.” He lunged, catching M’kar around the waist with his massive hands. She squealed as he tumbled her upside down and hung her over his shoulder. He held her ankles with one hand and swatted her bottom hard with the other. “You will obey as long as I can spank you!”

M'kar could hardly breathe for giggling. Thyal’s wide-eyed expression melted into a grin. 

“I have an idea, my fine young warriors.” Ashrock nodded as he lumbered down the hall to M’kar’s room, three doors down from Thyal’s, on the other side of the hall. “In the morning, we will have the hearth-kin ceremony. You fought together and for each other. That is something to celebrate. Even if you did not, sadly, shed any blood.”

 

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

 “Everything’s all changed. You can’t take the classes with your friends that you wanted to.”

“I suppose.” He shrugged, then grinned. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. Think about what you did today.”

She couldn’t help thinking about any of it. Especially the part when the two men calmed down once the animals left them alone, and they got angry and cursed her, and kept cursing her until Security hit them with stunner wands to shut them up. They spoke in the war tongue of Nisandros, and M’kar wished she had never teased her father to teach it to her. Those men vowed they would find her and kill her no matter what it cost them. She had embarrassed them. They were trained, dedicated killers, sent on an honor vendetta decreed by the Ancestors. Not that she cared about the Ancestors. But those men should have been able to find her and shred her before anyone realized what was happening. She was just a little girl, nine years old, and she had defeated them. Not only that, but she had made them scream like frightened little girls. She had commanded all the animals to come in her defense. They had shredded the men’s clothes and scratched and bit them and defecated all over them. That was the worst part of the embarrassment. The smell. 

“We both learned to do new things today, that we didn’t know we could do,” Thyal said. “People come from all over the Alliance to ask my father to be their teacher, and he wants to teach us. Do you know how special we are? And that’s because of you, because I wouldn’t have figured out what I could do if I didn’t have to help you.”

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

 Master Reydon insisted on taking M’kar as his student. He specialized in dealing with anomalous Talents. He was currently taking a period of rest while preparing to assemble his next group of students. Maenta was part of the dinner discussion, and she agreed to be in charge of M’kar’s foundational teaching before handing her over to Reydon in three luns. M’kar would be the youngest student he had ever taken, and the youngest member of the class.

Thyal had felt the energy and psionic resonance as M’kar’s Talent awoke. His instincts guided him in trying to shield her as she called all the animals for nearly a full kilometer in all directions, to defend her against the would-be murderers. He kept her shielded from possible physical damage, until Maenta felt the disturbance in the mental atmosphere and came to investigate and help. Reydon and Thean made no effort to hide their deep pride in their son. Thyal would be like his father, with an over-arching Talent that would allow him to touch on and interact with and even control other Talents, when necessary.

Because of that, Thyal would be part of this new class. M’kar thought he looked happy, but even more he looked stunned. Had she made trouble for him? Many classes he had planned for the next few years at the Academy would have to be canceled or delayed.

“I’m sorry,” she said, as they walked down the hallway to the bedroom wing of the house, after their parents sent them to bed.

The five adults were still talking in the common room behind them, their voices muffled with seriousness and the lateness of the hour. 

“For what?” Thyal frowned.

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

“Ah, better already? Very interesting,” Maenta said with a smile and a nod. “You can let go now. You don’t need me shielding you.”

M’kar didn’t understand.

“Master Maenta has been shielding your mind,” Thyal said. “You have a Talent and it woke up, and you weren’t able to turn it off.”

“Because you didn’t know how you turned it on,” Maenta added, nodding. “Yes, young Thyal, I understand now why your parents insisted you be given advanced classes. You will be a great asset to the Academy, when you have finished your training. As for you, little one …” She sighed. “You’re confused, aren’t you?”

“I have a Talent?” M’kar couldn’t yank her thoughts off what Thyal had said. “I’m not old enough.”

Thanks to the psionic heritage of Dr. Jeyn’s family, and the genetic manipulation that had been done to the ruling families of Nisandros centuries ago, there was no way to be sure if the emergence of M’kar’s psionic Talent was too soon or right on time. Everyone agreed, as they talked over dinner and into the evening, that the combination of so many drastic changes in her life and environment, combined with the trauma of the attack, had awakened her animal-focused Talent rapidly and with some violence. Her course of studies would now have to include mental and physical disciplines to help her harness this newly awakened ability and avoid the physical shock and draining she had endured today.

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

 

M'kar tumbled out of the cart and landed in the lavender and rose-streaked moss lining the side of the pathway, retching. Thyal shouted something and suddenly he was there, kneeling over her, holding her as she shuddered and fought to breathe. He was still holding her when Security found them and used stunner wands to drive away the swarms of birds and small ground-dwelling creatures that covered the shivering, weeping, ragged, bleeding, smothered men. He didn’t let go of her until a small, pink-faced woman with a crown of white braids wrapped around her head knelt and put her arms around M’kar and patted her back.

M'kar didn’t know how she knew it, but the little woman made the angry, confused cries of all the creatures go away. Shuddering with relief at the quiet inside her head, she burst into tears. 

By the time Security found her parents, and Thyal’s parents, and dealt with the two failed murderers, M’kar and Thyal had been taken to the closest healer station. The little woman introduced herself as Master Maenta. M’kar had calmed down enough to notice how everyone hurried to do obey her, and they didn’t ask questions. Maenta held M’kar’s hand the whole time, and that was even more comforting than Thyal holding her hand. She asked for a room where the three of them could be alone, and quiet, and asked for a drink that was all creamy pink and lavender and mint green swirls. M’kar didn’t think she could swallow anything, but she tried. All the shivering and throbbing and brief sharp stabs in her head quieted, and she felt the humming in Maenta’s hand holding hers.

Off the Bookshelf: DOROTHY AND JACK: The Transforming Friendship of Dorothy L. Sayers and C.S. Lewis, by Gina Dalfonzo

 

Yet another book that proves I have a bad habit of buying far too many books in a year than I can read. And some, regrettably, sit and wait for nearly two years before I take one off the to-be-read stack and actually start reading.

And when I do ... I don't want to put that book down.

Delightful, enlightening, educational experience. I bought this book because I'm a C.S. Lewis fan, a free Narnian, and trying to live up to his challenge about using the fantastical for Kingdom purposes. More opportunities to get to know him, his life, his thinking -- yeah, go for it.

Now ... I think I've discovered a new author to become passionate about. The thing is, I've encountered Sayers multiple times in the past. Most recently, her novel Gaudy Night was part of an Aurora Teagarden mystery episode. I really have to free up some space on my to-be-read mountain for some of her books. Starting with Lord Peter Wimsey's adventures. I know I read a collection of short stories about him years ago ... where did I file it?

This book is a must-read for any fan of either or both authors, with snatches of their correspondence over the years, interactions with mutual friends, growth and changes in their lives and careers, their writing successes, and joys and sorrows. Bravo to the author. Her passion for both subjects comes through, and her honesty in dealing with their foibles and fears and questionable choices is admirable and refreshing. 

I think I might even be brave enough to try to read Sayers' translation of Dante. 

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

 The cart stopped, startling a yelp out of her. She opened her eyes, expecting to see the door of the cart shelter at Thyal’s house. Instead, the cart had stopped a dozen meters from the path to the house. She looked at Thyal, then turned to look where he looked, with a frown darkening his sharp-boned, tanned face.

Two men stood on the pathway to the front steps and main door of the house. One faced the cart. The other turned around from the door and looked at the children in the cart.

“Go, go, go,” Thyal snarled, and slapped the controls for the cart. “Security. The intruders are at our house!”

The men yelled and raced after them. The cart seemed to crawl as it moved forward. M’kar wanted to jump out of the cart and run, but she knew it went faster than she could run. The smart move was to save her energy. She turned to look as the men ran and shouted, cursing Thyal and the cart and her.

M’kar understood those words. The language. They were speaking Nisandrian. She hadn’t heard Nisandrian since leaving Nisandros. She wanted to laugh at how strange the words sounded, but she couldn’t breathe. Everything felt wrong. She should be able to fight and defend herself, but her head pounded and her limbs had frozen. What was wrong with her? Had they already shot her with a tranquilizer, and she didn’t feel the dart?

Go away. Go away! Leave me alone! I’m not going back.

The bird cries and squeaks and pips and creaks of all the creatures filling her head to the point of bursting exploded into fury. 

A dark cloud swirled down out of the sky and enclosed the two men. They screamed and cursed and waved their arms and spun around, trying to break through the cloud. It grew thicker. A matching cloud of darkness snaked across the ground. The animal sounds erupted out of M’kar’s head and into her ears. The darkness reared up like a wave and engulfed the men. They went down, lumpy shapes that writhed and screamed.

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

 

The moment passed and the cart darted into the tunnel. M’kar sat upright. The sharp sensations faded but her head still throbbed. She thought she heard birds calling inside her head. The frightened and angry squeaks of little furry, sharp-toothed creatures joined them. She didn’t know their species. The voices grew louder with every heartbeat. She yelped when the cart emerged back into the sunlight and pressed her hands over her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Thyal said.

M’kar tried to say she didn’t know, but her throat felt stiff and hard. She couldn’t force the words out. She shook her head and held on tighter to the edges of the bench.

“Are you sick?”

She nodded.

“Take deep, slow breaths and close your eyes and listen to your heart. Tell it to slow down. That helps.” 

M’kar didn’t think it would, but she tried it anyway. She closed her eyes and listened to the rattle-hum of her heartbeats. The gasping hiss of her indrawn breath. 

Off the Bookshelf: DEAR WRITER, YOU NEED TO QUIT, by Becca Syme

 

Thanks to the Great Lakes Fiction Writers craft book club for choosing this for our October discussion book.

VERY needed, especially as I struggle with a couple projects all at the same time. Including a book I told my publisher in Australia I would get to her by the end of October -- LAST year. Yeah, Sandy, this one is for you ...

The subtitle says a lot -- and calms some of the anxiety perhaps generated by the title: What to Keep, What to Quit, What to Question

Basically, many writers are hampered and even blocked, distracted, frustrated, drained by false assumptions about the writing process, what they should be doing, what they shouldn't be doing, and how to go about it.

Everyone needs to find out what works best for them, and not let the loud proclamations by supposedly successful writers force them into routines and mindsets that don't work for them.

Syme goes through so many assumptions and blows them apart, always asking if writers are SURE this is the way it has to be, no wiggle room, no adaptations, no exceptions.

It's kind of freeing, and kind of frustrating, and kind of embarrassing, to face up to the things you've just taken for granted you gotta do to be a writer-type person. Yeah, there were times as I went through the checklist and questions when I thought .... yeah, time to quit -- handicapping myself! Let go of the false assumptions, find the things that work for me, and stop letting other people try to force me into their square boxes, when I'm more star-shaped.

Y'know?

Syme has an entire series of books of writerly advice, and I think if I'm smart I'll investigate more of them.

New Release: ETRUSCA'S VOW. AFV Defender Book 3

“I’m sorry.” M’kar looked behind them. No one had followed them from the restaurant. She gripped the edges of the bench seat and willed the cart to move faster. She couldn’t remember any of the landmarks they had passed, and that was stupid. How could she find her way back to Thyal’s house if something went wrong and they were separated?

“It’s not your fault.” Thyal patted her hand. “They’re not very good hunters, making a stupid mistake like that. What do they want?”

“Kill me or marry me, it’s all bad for me.”

That made him laugh, though he did manage to smother the sound into a snort. Security responded, asking for more information. Thyal gave the officer the names of the cadets who had been talking to them.

“Be careful,” the woman said. “The only Nisandrians we have on record currently on Academy grounds are Dr. Jeyn Fleetwind, Ashrock of Ba’e’do’stra, and M’kar Fleetwind-Ba’e’do’stra. Please take shelter quickly and stay there, until we locate the intruders.”

“Understood.” Thyal frowned at the control panel as the connection died. “Maybe someone is pretending to be Nisandrian to cause trouble?”

M’kar didn’t have any answer for that. She flinched as the path the cart followed dipped down and they headed for a short tunnel, passing from one section of the Academy grounds to another. Muffled thuds echoed out at them, then shadows erupted from the tunnel, turning into birds. She caught her breath and ducked down, even though the clear panel at the front of the cart, and the curving roof protected them from collision. 

For a heartbeat, she thought she saw herself. Multiple images of herself. Crouching down in the front seat with her arms raised as a shield. Her head throbbed like something sharp wanted to erupt from her temples and through her eyes.