Category: Blog Tour

A Cut Twice as Deep! A Viking Fantasy Story

I recently learned a new term “pantser!”  When applied to a writer, it is one who writes by the seat of their pants and does not use a formal outline, process, or formula to write.  That is what I am, a pantser!  I just sit down and start typing an idea I have or a scene that pops into my head and I just go from there. I do think that the pantser process can take longer because of the need to go back frequently and fill in any missing pieces or important details of the story.  I think the pantser style adds originality and unleashes creativity.

When I wrote A Cut Twice as Deep, I started without any preconceived notions about where I wanted the story to go or what it was about.  The general idea from a dream I had when I was about seven years old starting with the scene on page one.  I could see the flowers and the grass, see the water stretching out before me and feel the sun and wind on my face.  The dream was so real that I never forgot it!  I wanted to write it down, so I did! The concept of twins came from that dream as I changed perspective in the dream from one sister standing on the shore to the other sister leaving in the boat and looking back.

From there A Cut Twice as Deep was born writing by the seat of my pants and the book took off!  Because I always felt the Norse influence in the dream and because I love everything having to do with Norse myths and Vikings in general, the story developed in that setting.  I did a bit of research on the life of Vikings to add a small bit of realism and I also used a lot of creative license to develop the story.  It was not meant to be historically accurate nor describe Viking life at the time. Inevitably my goal was to do my dream justice and write a fantasy interesting enough that people would want to read it. 

Also, writing a stand-alone book was not something I thought I could do because my ideas were so big.  The thought of wrapping up in one book, the lives of the characters that had been so real to me for such a long time, seemed sad and daunting.  I did it though and I love the adventure and mystery that A Cut Twice as Deep became.

My twin Viking girls, Liana and Deirdre were always meant to be separated and I wanted to take advantage of the deep bond many twins have.  When they are both given away into unwanted marriages by their greedy father that is where my story began to unfold and became interesting.  What would happen to them? Would they be happy in their new lives and would they ever see each other again?  Were questions that arose to build the story.

As a pantser, I am always surprised by what happens to my characters and what my mind creates.  I love the names for my characters that just pop into my brain and I enjoy seeing what unfolds.  It is like watching a movie and I’m transcribing it.  Of course, a lot of editing goes into this type of writing style, and sometimes I have to fight to maintain the spontaneity of the story but in the end, I am always pleasantly surprised by the uninhibited free flow of ideas when writing by the seat of my pants.  It works for me and I will continue to write that way for as long as the good stories come to play.

I hope you will read A Cut Twice as Deep because it is a complete and wonderful story of two sisters and how they survive in the world they have very little control of. Please also check out my five book Kingdom of Jior epic fantasy series. You can find out more about me and my writing on my website www.wendylanderson.com.

Welcome to the blog tour for A Cut Twice As Deep by Wendy L. Anderson! Read on for an excerpt and a chance to win a paperback copy of the book!

A Cut Twice as Deep

Publication Date: October 7th, 2020

Genre: Viking Adventure/ Sisterhood/ Romance

The bond between sisters is one forged in blood and fire. Twin sisters, Liana and Deirdre were inseparable like the two halves of a double-bladed axe, making the pain of having to leave each other a cut twice as deep. Their father, Gorsedd Gunnarson, King of the great country of Svartur Rokk, did not care about twin bonds or his daughter’s preferences and severed the pair with a single blow. Both Liana and Deirdre have been sold to the highest bidders for ships, weapons, and alliances. For Gorsedd Gunnarson these are very profitable and advantageous marriage arrangements, but the twin sisters would be torn from each other lives and sent to lands far apart forever!
Liana is forced to leave her childhood sweetheart and marry a stranger. Sweet, timid Deirdre would be wed to a Viking warlord. One would leave her home on a ship and the other on a horse. Both would travel great distances to new lands. Given no choice but to embrace the lives planned for them, they find that the future holds more than they could ever have suspected. In a land where blood and ice reign, danger and betrayal war with love and hope, as they fight to find happiness in a ruthless world ruled by the sword and axe.

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Excerpt

Liana recalled with great detail, the smoky room, and the flickering torches in iron sconces on the walls. Remembered the smell of sweaty men, oiled leather, damp fur, wood smoke, and roasting meat. Heard the rattle of sword and thump of drinking horns and the pounding of eating knives on the worn, beaten tables. Shadows crouched in the dark corners of the hall. She could see clearly in her mind’s recollection, how her father had suddenly stood after eating and drinking for hours and raised his large drinking horn on high. He smoothed his hand over his long greying blonde beard, straightened the black bear fur cloak on his broad shoulders, and roared for silence. As all eyes trained on King Gorsedd, the conversation and laughter quieted.

“This night!” Gorsedd Gunnarson’s deep voice boomed out and the men stilled to listen. “We celebrate!” The men roared in response and then quieted.

“Raise your mead horns and drink to my daughters!” The men raised their horns and cheered loudly sloshing mead on the tables and over their hands.

This was strange behavior coming from their father and Liana and Deirdre exchanged surprised glances as they moved slowly toward the front of the room. Pulled forward by this uncustomary sentiment, their father had their full attention.

“Tonight!” Gorsedd boomed again, waiting for the men to quiet down and regain everyone’s attention. “We celebrate the betrothal of both my daughters! Drink to our good fortune! SKOL!”

All eyes turned to stare, and the men drank to Liana and Deirdre.

“Skol!” they all shouted then quieted as Gorsedd began to speak again.

“For my eldest Liana, I have arranged a marriage contract with Tiernan Lachlan of Lochlannach and Kearn Mac An-Bharain of Noreg for Deirdre.”

He gestured toward strangers in the hall and bellowed.

“Welcome men from Lochlannach to Svartur Rokk my great mead hall where the warriors are more skilled at sword and drinking! These men will be taking Liana across Loch Indaal to marry Tiernan Lachlan!”

Loud cheers rang out and the men raised their drinking horns in salute, sloshed mead into their mouths, and banged their daggers on the tables.

Both Liana and Deirdre stared in wide-eyed shock at their father with their mouths falling open. This was the first time they had heard this news, and both girls stood stunned, disbelieving their ears. They turned and looked at each other, terror written on their identical faces. The men at the tables murmured and some continued to cheer, a few fell to grumbling.

Deirdre staggered in disbelief and her frightened gaze stayed fixed on Liana while she slammed down the pitcher of mead she had been holding onto the nearest table. Her furious gaze flew back and forth between their father and Deirdre.

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About the Author

Wendy L. Anderson is a Colorado native and mother of two boys. A devout reader of the classics, fantasy, sci-fi and historical fiction, she has decided it is time to write down the fantasies from her mind. Writing about everything from fantastical worlds to the stuff of her dreams she takes her stories along interesting paths while portraying worlds she sees in her mind’s eye. Her goal is to deviate from common themes, write in original directions and transport her reader to the worlds of her creation.

Wendy L. Anderson | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

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Blog Tour Schedule

November 23^rd

Reads & Reels (Spotlight) http://readsandreels.com

Ma Book Yard (Review) https://www.mabookyard.wordpress.com

The Faerie Review (Review) http://www.thefaeriereview.com

The Magic of Wor(l)ds (Spotlight) http://themagicofworlds.wordpress.com

November 24^th

Horror Tree (Guest Post) https://www.horrortree.com

@BetterOffRead (Spotlight) http://WWW.INSTAGRAM.COM/BETTER_0FF_READ/

I’m into Books (Spotlight) https://imintobooks.com

November 25^th

Book Dragons Not Worms (Review) https://bookdragonsnotworms.blogspot.com/?m=1

Rambling Mads (Spotlight) http://ramblingmads.com

@wineandbooklovers (Spotlight) https://www.instagram.com/bookandwinelovers/

November 26^th

Tales of a Natural Spoonie (Review) https://talesofanaturalspoonie.com/

Misty’s Book Space (Spotlight) http://mistysbookspace.wordpress.com

Cocktails & Fairy Tales (Spotlight) https://www.facebook.com/CocktailsFairytales

November 27^th

Just 4 My Books (Review) http://www.just4mybooks.wordpress.com

@BrendaJeanCombs (Review) https://www.instagram.com/brendajeancombs/

Book Tour Organized By:

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Two Planets, both alike in Dignity

One crucial element of writing speculative fiction is worldbuilding. The author does not only invent the story, but also the entire world the story takes place in. Creating settings that are vastly different from our world allows both the author and the reader to examine human interaction with much more contrast. And to both Beryll and me, this is a big part of what makes writing the ‘Virasana Empire’ novels so much fun. 

Take the two main characters of our recent release ‘The PV-3 Mutagen’, Rene and Riccardo. 

Both of them are young, human and male – and that’s where the similarities end. While Rene has grown up in the relative safety of his family and their secret underground society, Riccardo has been through quite some hardship before he ended up behind the sturdy walls of a Belligra monastery. Rene is an introverted, sometimes nerdy scholar, Riccardo is a warrior priest who knows how to put both his strong arms and his poster-boy looks to good use. Rene is quite worldly, if inexperienced, while Riccardo is idealistic to the point of being naive. 

It was only while writing the first draft of ‘The PV-3 Mutagen’ that we realised how much these two actually carried with them the planets they grew up on. Rene is a born and bred Floorian, while Riccardo comes from the Empire’s other trading hub: Isfahan. 

At first, both planets seem to have more similarities than most other planets in our purposefully diverse setting. Both are well-connected centres of commerce and industry, both are old settlements with rich histories and among the most densely settled planets of the empire. 

But where Isfahan is ruled by a Noble House, the Floor belongs to the commoners, and more specifically, to the merchant guilds. But the more we looked at these two planets, the more we realised that the true difference wasn’t so much coming from their ruling classes, but from their general culture, and more specifically from their understanding of ‘commerce’. 

Floor, in that regard, is a classic example of capitalism. The rich make the rules, enshrining their positions of power and wealth. And everyone below them is in a rat race scavenging for bits of prosperity, freedom and even hope, fighting each other instead of those who are responsible for their misery because they are simply too far out of reach. 

On Isfahan, everything is for sale, too. Everything can be bartered for, everyone has a price. Famously legal cases are won by the side that presents more witnesses, with witnesses for hire literally waiting on the court’s doorsteps. But – and that’s where things become interesting – the price of those ‘witnesses’ isn’t fixed. It varies with the involved parties and the circumstances, and will change with every new bit of evidence that comes to light. So even a poor seamstress could win one of these ‘rigged’ court cases if she and her case are sufficiently charming and sympathetic – the price of witnesses would drop to almost nothing for her. There were enough cases dismissed by the courts for no other reason than the price per witness of one party dropped so close to zero it basically amounted to the entire planet voting in their favour. 

Something like that would have never happened on Floor. Yes, what little there is in terms of court proceedings is just as corrupt, but no one would lower their price just because, say, the accused party was nicer, or needed to win the case more urgently. Quite the contrary, most Floorians would use any bit of knowledge gained to figure out how to wring a few more coins out of either of the parties. 

Originally, we had created those planets independently of each other, and they had both started out simply as trading centres with different visual and historical skins. Now several years into this project, we realised that over the course of countless stories we had created around the Empire, these planets had evolved into two very different systems. Yes, we had a clear feeling of how things were done on Isfahan and Floor respectively, but we had never put those structures into words. It was more of a distinct flavour these places carried with them, and we were genuinely surprised and delighted to realise the depth of this approach. 

So what was the root of that difference? 

We discussed it for quite a while, and it was obvious that this difference didn’t stem from anything any sort of authority had decreed. These striking differences were found in every small daily interaction, and no ‘orders from above’ would reach this deeply. So it had to be something cultural, deeply rooted, something that everyday people would be as hard-pressed to put into words as we were. 

Why were people on Isfahan acting so differently? How did they manage not to descend into the same rat-race scenario that had most Floorians on the brink of subsistence? In the end, it was the beggars of Isfahan who brought us an answer. 

Unlike most places, it was always a given for us that there were two kinds of beggars on the streets of Isfahan. One group was garishly clad, dramatically disfigured (real or otherwise), clamouring for alms with the same lively exuberance as they would display gratitude for any coin given. The other group was quiet, polite, waiting at the exits of subway stations or bazaars, quietly holding out their hands, waiting for those passing by to drop them a coin. 

The first group were professional beggars, considered entertainers of some sort, and paid as such. If you needed a pick-me-up, you threw them a coin, and they showered you with compliments and blessings in return. The others were ordinary people fallen on hard times, who needed assistance to get their families through the day. They waited humbly for donations, and almost invariably were given so much money that they could leave after a few hours. And they would leave as soon as they had enough. 

That last part made us listen up. Why would they leave? Staying there for another hour would surely bring more income, maybe ensuring they wouldn’t have to return the next few days. But they didn’t, because they knew they would take away the spot of someone else who needed those donations more urgently than them. 

They left because they had empathy. 

From that moment on, everything began to make sense. Isfahani interactions were grounded in a sense of common responsibility, a sense of community from top to bottom. Yes, everything there had a price, but that price was always calculated with an eye on the consequences for society. Any trader would gladly dupe their competition, but shy away from ruining them. Well, most of the time. 

Floor, however, was egoism personified. No one cared about the wider consequences of their actions as long as they had a few coins more in their purse. 

Laughing, we realised that we had unintentionally written a classic sample of ‘Capitalism’ vs ‘Social Market Economy’ into our books. Looking at all the current political discussions in the real world, this felt oddly timely. Our books are for entertainment, primarily, but if we manage to tickle our readers’ brains in the process, all the better. 

So to those reading ‘The PV-3 Mutagen’, enjoy the deep look into the workings on Floor. Rest assured that Rene and Riccard will return to Isfahan in a future installment – let us know what you think then! 

Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus have a new sci fi/space opera book out, Virasana Empire: Dr. Laurent Book 1: “The PV-3 Mutagen.”

As a history scholar and courier for the secretive Circle of Thales, Rene Laurent is a man of many talents – none of them lending themselves much to a life of adventure.

But when a chance meeting with a young, idealistic Belligra priest drags him into a wild quest to keep a dangerous mutagen off the streets of Floor, his curiosity gets the better of him. Between monsters both human and man-made, he realises that maybe fieldwork is more of his game than he had ever thought possible…

Written by Rainbow-Award-winning authors Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, ‘The PV-3 Mutagen’ is a colourful non-romance sci-fi adventure set in the wildly diverse ‘Virasana Empire’, and the first novel of the ‘Doctor Laurent’ series.

Warnings: Not a romance. Harsh setting, but hopeful.

Excerpt

Chapter 1 – Info Brokers

There were five of them. At least, five that Rene was aware of.

He had spotted the three following him when he took the escalator to the bottom floor of the mall. He had originally planned to take the tube train to Cherry Hills, but instead he turned into the access tunnel that led up to the street, trying to shake them off. Judging by the two who were now cutting him off just ahead, that had been a bad idea. The tunnel they were in was sufficiently removed from the cheap glitz of the mall to be only dimly lit, and the only other person here was a woman pushing a shopping cart, purposefully hurrying away from the developing confrontation.

A quick look around showed Rene there weren’t any convenient emergency doors he could slip through, either. He was in trouble.

At least, they didn’t seem to be professional mercenaries, just some gangers, though they moved with too much purpose to be out simply to mug him. And no ganger deserving of their colours would mug a scruffy street rat like him, anyway. To them, he had to look like he didn’t have anything worth the trouble, as much a carefully crafted facade as laziness – he liked his comfortable rags a lot, thank you very much. So what did these particular thugs want from him?

And more importantly, how to get rid of them?

He was well aware that he didn’t stand a chance against them in a fight. Combat skills were at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in. Also, the mall was too cheap to have any sort of camera surveillance. It didn’t even have security guards though Rene doubted any would have come running if they had existed. He wasn’t a valued customer, and as long as the gangers didn’t make too much of a mess, no one would care.

The best course of action seemed to be to play the helpless victim and let them rough him up a little. It wasn’t like they would manage to inflict any lasting damage, anyway.

He had come to that conclusion when one of the thugs, whom Rene mentally labelled their ‘leader’, shoved him against the wall.

Rene turned to face them, clutching the stack of folders he was carrying to his chest protectively, trying to present a credible picture of being scared. The other thugs had formed a semicircle around him and their boss. Judging by the nasty grins of his ambushers, it wasn’t very hard to fool them.

“Gimme that,” the leader snarled and grabbed the folders.

They held the weekly update on the topside situation in this sector of Floor. Nothing too important, and certainly not irreplaceable. Rene had picked them up a few minutes ago at the office of the info broker the Circle of Thales was currently employing. He congratulated himself on not yet having picked up the datacrystal with the off-planet reports from the Beetle Shack under Cherry Hills. He had planned to do that on the way back down before having a lunch of lava beetle while he was there.

He let go of the folders with a strangled whine and cowered.

“Hank’s Beehive is off-limits,” the leader sneered, “didn’t you get the memo? He is about to shut down.”

So that was what this was all about. The info broker Rene had just visited had been in a turf war with another info broker two malls down the street for a while, but apparently, things were heating up. Not something he cared to get involved in even though Hank was a decent guy. Well, make that a decent guy for Floor.

“Can’t have that idiot handing out charity, can we? Not the Floorian thing to do, eh?” The leader clearly wasn’t expecting an answer as he rammed his fist into Rene’s stomach.

The punch drove the air out of his lungs and hurt like a bitch. Or rather, it hurt for the few seconds it took his body to repair the damage. Rene crumpled to the ground in a heap. If he looked sufficiently hurt, they would hopefully leave him alone quickly. And not search him. If they tried to take his phone, he would have to do something, though he admittedly had no idea what.

“You understand me, little shit? You stay away from now on!”

“Hey! Stop that!”

A voice ringing out loud and clear in the narrow tunnel rudely interrupted the leader’s little speech.

Rene glanced up through his long hair hanging in his face and did a double-take. The tunnel leading back towards the mall was almost filled out by a tall figure in heavy, plate armour, wielding both a broadsword and a fucking tower shield so large he could completely hide behind it. The symbol on his surcoat and shield was unmistakable – Temple Belligra, the Fist of the Church. It was about the last faction Rene wanted to have get involved in this minor scuffle.

Priests were infamous for poking their noses where they didn’t belong. Luckily, they were rare on Floor. Yes, they had a few Verata, but they mostly remained inside their Fort Phosphoros Monastery. The occasional Jansahar only paid attention to the local flock who worshipped at the small shrines they kept all over the planet. Both groups were easy enough to evade for someone who didn’t need supernaturally talented people scanning them and finding out they were an unregistered psion.

But seriously, a Belligra? There were no faithful in need of protection here on Floor, mostly because there were no faithful here. Floor prided itself with being the most secular planet of the empire, and it was a reputation hard-won.

But apparently, this particular Belligra was set on rescuing him.

Author Bio

We are Beryll and Osiris Brackhaus, a couple currently living our happily ever after in the very heart of Germany, under the stern but loving surveillance of our cat.

Both of us are voracious but picky readers, we love telling stories and drinking tea, good food and the occasional violent movie. Together, we write novels of adventure and romance, hoping to share a little of our happiness with our readers.

An artist by heart, Beryll was writing stories even before she knew what letters were. As easily inspired as she is frustrated, her own work is never good enough (in her eyes). A perfectionist in the best and worst sense of the word at the same time and the driving creative force of our duo.

An entertainer and craftsman in his approach to writing, Osiris is the down-to-earth, practical part of our duo. Broadly interested in almost every subject and skill, with a sunny mood and caring personality, he strives to bring the human nature into focus of each of his stories.

Author Website: http://www.brackhaus.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/people/Osiris-Brackhaus/100011014541510

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/brackhaus

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/brackhaus/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6427435.Osiris_Brackhaus

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Osiris-Brackhaus/e/B00IVTRO2E

When did you know you wanted to write, and when did you discover that you were good at it?

Honestly, I started writing “Expression” when I couldn’t find enough good, really meaty stories about telepaths. I don’t know why I’m so interested in this subject, but I am. Maybe all those Betazoid episodes in Star Trek had an effect – ha!

Anyway, if there were a lot of books out there that really try to delve into what a telepathic society would look like, warts and all, I’d probably just happily be reading those. But as I didn’t find them, I kept having these stories run through my head and one day I just started writing them down. And then the more I wrote, the more I felt like I might actually have some talent.

How would you describe your writing style?

I really need to put pen to paper. I carry around little journals and write quickly, messily even, the story as my creative juices flow. I once read somewhere that the first draft is you telling the story to yourself, and I really feel that as I write things down. I then like to type my writing out when I’m feeling less heady. As I type, I try to be more analytical, critical, and structural.

What do you do if you get a brilliant idea at a bad time?

Oh, this is a fun question. I usually quickly sketch out the idea on whatever piece of paper is close to hand (I’ve scrawled things out on the margins of conference agenda and work reports) or I send myself a text with the key idea points. Key thing is to write enough down so you can jog your memory later when you have actual writing time.

Do you use a pseudonym? If so, why? If not, why not?

Yes, I use a pen name, which is a play off my real name. It’s not meant to be any great secret or anything. My real name is Davon. It’s just that I’m a lawyer for my day job and I don’t want my fiction writing coming up in searches mixed up with my legal work – at least, not at this early stage, when I’m still building my confidence.

Do you ever base your characters on real people? If so, what are the pitfalls you’ve run into doing so?

Oh, yes, definitely – many of my characters are based on real people or combinations of people. In my notes, I’ll sometimes even write the name of the person I’m basing the character off of – it can help me sometimes work out how a character will react to a certain situation. I also find basing characters on real people helps me connect with the complexities of human relationships – for example, how you can deeply love someone yet despise certain things about them or not really trust them. A pitfall – at least, for me, is shifting intentions as to how much I want to base the character on that person. For example, I might base a character on a person purely for the physical characteristics – so-and-so is blond with a large forehead. However, if I’m not careful, I might find out later that I mixed in some aspect of that person’s personality, so now the character is not the same. It’s just something that I have to keep aware of.

Colin D. Vaughn has a new queer multi-racial sci fi book out: “Expression: Telepaths Rising.” And there’s a giveaway!It’s the year 2113. Telepaths are real. They’re exalted. Feared. Hunters. Hunted. Kingmakers and slaves. With his expression, Ken is catapulted into the ranks of a tiny elite. With immense telepathic potential, he will have to learn how to use his powers and whom to trust. And quickly. Because there are enemies, both within and without, and they’re not going to wait.

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GiveawayColin is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:a Rafflecopter giveawayDirect Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47158/?

Excerpt

Tarrington placed his datapad on the table. “This begins the psychic assessment of Kenneth Jared Kawashima. Nigel Tarrington, Authorized Facilitator of the Ministry of Citizen Services and Mauricio Vargas, an Authorized MCS Liaison from the Ministry of Psychic Affairs, presiding. Also in attendance are the subject’s father, Takahiro Kawashima; mother, Claire Alma Reed; and sister of minor age, Stephanie Fusako Kawashima.”Tarrington turned to me: “Kenneth, pursuant to the Telepath Registration Act, as a suspected telepath you are required to undergo psychic assessment. You may not decline, delay or obstruct this hearing in any way. You may, however, have the presence of counsel at this proceeding. If you do not have one available to attend within 24 hours, one will be provided to you by the Ministry. Please touch the datapad and state whether you request or waive counsel.”All of this was rather pro forma – I was surrounded by my family and it wasn’t as if a lawyer could stop or save me from this process. Not that I wanted it to stop. I touched the pad. “I waive counsel.”The datapad chirped: “Identity confirmed. Waiver of counsel acknowledged.”Tarrington turned to my parents. “Please touch the datapad to confirm that you have no objection to this proceeding, its recordation, or your son’s waiver of counsel.”My parents touched the pad and it chirped: “Identities confirmed. Acknowledgements confirmed.”Tarrington smiled, “Well, now that all that fussy business is complete. I will turn things over to Mr. Vargas.”Vargas smiled at me, and then, clear as a bell in my head, I heard him sing a jaunty tune: I am the very model of a modern major general. I am the very model of a modern major general.I laughed and asked him, “So you’re a general, eh?”He smiled: No, more like a lowly foot soldier, little brother. Ask me a question. In your head – look into my eyes and say the words of your question one at a time. Remember, don’t speak.I looked him straight in the eyes and thought: Where. Are. You. From?Honduras. Suddenly I could see a wide stretch of forest, leading to deeply forested mountains, their tops veiled in low-lying clouds. Though I knew I was still crouched on the floor of our living room, I cool also feel moist spongy earth under my feet, a cool breeze across my cheek. This is my home. Well, actually, my hometown is the metropolis of Gracias a Dios, but the rainforests on the outskirts are what I think of as “home.”For a moment, I almost felt like it was my home, too. I, who had only ever left Tennessee for our family’s annual trip to the Japan Territory, almost ached to return and hike those forests. Gracias a Dios. Thank you.It wasn’t until Vargas smiled and said aloud: “My pleasure” that I realized that I had spoken to him mind-to-mind again, but in a natural, almost instinctual, way.Was this what it meant to be a telepath? This incredible sharing, this intimacy? I felt as if Vargas – no, Mauricio– was some long-lost friend. Could he sense the same about me? I was just about to ask him for more when Tarrington clapped his hands once and said, “I take it that it was a success? He’s a true expressive?” I came to and looked around. My family was just staring at me. At me and Mauricio.Mauricio nodded, then reached and touched the datapad: “Confirmed that subject’s telepathic gene has expressed, as verified through the receipt and transmission of audio, visual and tactile stimuli between subject and myself.”Tarrington said: “Excellent! Now, Ken… I may call you ‘Ken,’ yes? . . . You understand that you will be more fully and properly assessed by the Psych Ministry at a later point?” I nodded. He then continued, “However, for myMinistry’s purposes an initial, somewhat rough assessment is necessary. Mr. Vargas will perform this. I am sorry for any discomfort.”Mauricio then said aloud: “Ken, I will now force myself onto you” – at my sister’s gasp, he addressed everyone and continued – “in a very safe and controlled way, I assure you all. Though unpleasant, I will not harm Ken, I promise you.” Then turning to me: “Ken, what you must do is push me away. Pretend there’s a door that you’re trying to push closed. Or pretend there’s a pot on a heating unit bubbling over that you need to slam a lid onto. Or think of it however you think right – trust your instincts. OK, here goes.”Then, before I could even begin to ponder what Mauricio was getting at, I saw his green light brighten and felt him touch me as he did before, but somehow both heavier and louder than before. Where before I felt like I was sharing with Mauricio, walking in his shoes, I now felt like he was walking on me. Instead of beautiful forests, I saw a man wielding a leather strap. The man – Father! – started hitting me over and over with the strap, shouting. It hurt! God, had this really happened to Mauricio? Or was this all part of the test? I couldn’t imagine my own gentle father or mother (however strict) ever acting so. But – ow! – the bastard kept hitting me! And I felt so angry, that he was hitting me, that he might possibly once have beaten my friend this way. I jumped up and yanked the strap from him. I then pushed him and lashed the strap across his face. He started to back away and I lunged after him hitting him again and again with the strap…”

Author Bio

Colin is a Midwesterner by birth who lives in Washington, D.C. with his husband. Lawyer by day and aspiring writer by night (and lunch break). Since discovering Asimov and Tolkien as a child, he’s had a lifelong love of science-fiction and fantasy. And he has enjoyed the explosion of wonderful stories featuring fellow LGBT and people of color.But the more he read, the more he realized that he had his own tales he wanted to tell. And themes he wanted to explore – power and temptation, social progress, the fall of civilizations, ways to love, futurism, beloved community, and many more.He very much hopes you enjoy his story!Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/colin.vaughn.5203Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Colin-D.-Vaughn/e/B08FJBW69M/

Writing with ADHD

By: Sarah Lampkin

Around the age of 14, my mom took me to a behavior therapist for the first time and that was when I was officially diagnosed with ADHD. After many fights and arguments over grades and studying, we finally had an answer as to why I couldn’t do things the same way as my older sister. It also explained my day dreaming.

Being a young teenage girl, daydreaming is a common occurrence and not something that would raise alarm. But my ability to be so completely lost in thought and in my own world happened far too often and during situations that got me into trouble. For instance, I was constantly lost while in school, as my brain believed my own world was more interesting. 

While using my sketch book as my outlet, I started to describe to my parents the stories behind my terribly drawn people…but I wouldn’t stop. There were times when I would start telling a story and no matter what my parents did to change the subject or stop me, I had no control over my own voice. 

That’s when a suggestion was made: Write your stories. 

I don’t remember who suggested it. I just know that I was never motivated to finish anything until I started writing. It became the perfect outlet for the ideas that were always in the forefront of my mind, distracting me from everything else. That’s when my life began to change for the better. I was finally learning how to live a healthy and productive life with ADHD without medication. 

With each new story, I was able to hyper focus on my writing. So, when the time came to go to school or work on homework, I was suddenly able to focus on the work at hand without getting easily distracted by everything else going on. Somehow, writing became the therapy I needed to be successful at everything in my life. Of course, I still struggle with some things, but not as much as I did before as a young teen or child. 

Writing was my life saver.

To Reap the Spirit (Dead Dreamer #3)

Publication Date: October 13th, 2020

Genre: New Adult/ Urban Fantasy

Sanguis daretur. Ignis invocavit.

The third installment in the haunting Dead Dreamer series.

Somehow Brenna Whit has survived to her junior year at Nephesburg College. Despite all odds, she’s fought against the Gatekeepers and lived. But the battle for the Fade has only just begun.

New pieces have been added to the board.

The Fade opens to the Veil.

And a Shade from the past returns.

With Brenna’s secret out, everyone is after her: dead and living alike. Those from across the sea have come and they’re determined to regain control of their broken faction.

Questions will be answers

Fires will be lit

Chaos will reign

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/52344035-to-reap-the-spirit?ac=1&from_search=true&qid=GpvYiGEmzO&rank=1

Purchase Links

The Parliament House: https://www.parliamenthousepress.com/product-page/to-reap-the-spirit-by-sarah-lampkin

 Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B08HCDDD33/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/to-reap-the-spirit-sarah-lampkin/1137586892?ean=9781953539670

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ww/en/ebook/to-reap-the-spirit

Blog Tour Organized By:

R&R Book Tours

Black Cranes: Tales of Unquiet Women blog tour Sept 21st – Oct 12th  Part four of four.

By Lee Murray and Geneve Flynn

Black Cranes: Tales of Unquiet Women is an anthology of Southeast Asian horror which subverts expectations of Asian women and their place in society. It brings to light the furious and restless spirits which sometimes lie behind the smiling facade of quiet submissiveness and familial duty. 

Edited by award-winning author and editor Lee Murray, and published short story author and editor Geneve Flynn, the anthology was released by Omnium Gatherum on September 26th, 2020, and features esteemed authors of dark fiction such as Rena Mason, Angela Yuriko Smith, and Christina Sng. 

It has been called an “instant classic” by Nightmare Feed, and “one of the best anthologies of 2020” by Pseudopod.

This series of four blog posts introduces the editors and contributors, and reveals the inspiration behind the fourteen dark stories which feature in Black Cranes. In this post, we meet Rena Mason, Rin Chupeco, and Gabriela Lee.

Rena Mason, born in Nakhon Sawan, Thailand, is an American author of Thai-Chinese descent, and a three-time Bram Stoker Award® winning author of the The Evolutionist and “The Devil’s Throat”, as well as a 2014 Stage 32 /The Blood List Presents®: The Search for New Blood Screenwriting Contest quarter-finalist. She’s had nearly two dozen short stories, novelettes, and novellas published in various award-winning anthologies and magazines and writes a monthly column. Her dark speculative fiction often crosses and mashes genres and subgenres. 

She is a member of the Horror Writers Association, Mystery Writers of America, International Thriller Writers, The International Screenwriters’ Association, and the Public Safety Writers Association. 

An avid scuba diver, she enjoys traveling the world and incorporating the experiences into her stories. She currently resides in Reno, Nevada but can also often be found visiting her home in the Great Pacific Northwest. For more information visit her website: www.RenaMason.Ink or follow her at: Facebook: rena.mason 

Twitter: @RenaMason88 Stage 32: Rena Mason Instagram: rena.mason 

Rena’s story “The Ninth Tale” is a dark retelling of the legend of the nine-tailed fox, showing the proud and calculating side of woman. Set in historical China, the story follows Ju as she seeks out the final human heart that will help her to ascend to heaven, and is rich with beauty and betrayal. 

Here’s how “The Ninth Tale” came about:

RENA MASON: I don’t think it’s ever one thing that inspires me to write any story, and the same is true for “The Ninth Tale.” With the popular resurgence of a modernized huli jing, (Pinyin – húlijīng) or fox demon/spirit portrayed in anime and video games with a blending of cultures and added superpowers, many of the original stories get muddled and lost to younger generations. Because of my mainly Chinese heritage, I wanted to write a folktale-style story using the Chinese mythos versus the versions from other countries like the Japanese kitsune, or Korean kumiho. I also wanted to take a character traditionally seen and feared as a “powerful” woman, and set her in a time when women suffered from the sexist practice of foot binding; whether it was for sexual purposes or to keep them sedentary for work, or not, it was wrong. I’ve always been fascinated by the contrast between the reverence for, and fear of, women in Chinese mythos compared to the treatment of Chinese women by their male counterparts throughout history. I also grew up watching a lot of historical Chinese drama and martial arts movies, am a huge fan of Zhang Yimou (minus The Great Wall), and I wanted to write a story that had a similar visual vibe and feel, to the extent of using the importance of different colours to set the moods in scenes. 

Rin wrote obscure manuals for complicated computer programs, talked people out of their money at event shows, and did many other terrible things. They now write about ghosts and fantastic worlds but is still sometimes mistaken for a revenant. They are the author of The Girl from the Well, its sequel, The Suffering, The Bone Witch trilogy, The Never Tilting World duology, and the Wicked As You Wish series. A Chinese-Filipino who grew up with Filipino superstitions, Catholic guilt, and Buddhist traditions, yet somehow overcoming them all to become a nonbinary liberal atheist, they were born and raised in the Philippines and, or so the legend goes, still haunts that place to this very day. Find them at rinchupeco.com

Rin’s tale “Kapre: A Love Story” is set in rural Philippines, where monsters such as the kapre, tikbalang and aswang reside and feed at the edge of the forest. Kapre falls in love with a baby girl and follows her as she grows from a child to a woman, rising above his monstrosity.

Rin shares what inspired the writing of “Kapre: A Love Story”:

RIN CHUPECO: Myths and legends played an important part in my upbringing, and I grew up with more books than friends, enchanted by fairy tales of singing mountains and benevolent enchantresses. Ghost stories, however, were my first love; the more subversive and eerie the tale, the more I enjoyed it, and my own books wind up becoming an odd amalgamation of both.

Gabriela Lee was born and raised in Metro Manila, Philippines. She earned her MA in Literary Studies from the National University of Singapore (NUS), and currently teaches literature and creative writing at the University of the Philippines, Diliman, focusing on science fiction & fantasy and children’s literature. She has received the 2019 PBBY (Philippine Board on Books for Young People) Salanga Grand Prize for children’s literature, writing about her grandmother’s experiences as a child during the Second World War. Her fiction has appeared internationally in publications such as LONTAR: The Southeast Asian Journal of Speculative Fiction, Where the Stars Rise: Asian Science Fiction and Fantasy Stories, Heat: An Anthology of Southeast Asian Urban Writing, Kaleidoscope: Speculative Fiction for Young Adults, and The Dragon and the Stars. She has also been published in the Philippine Speculative Fiction anthologies, the Filipino Fiction for Young Adults series, and in Philippine literary journals such as Kritika Kultura and Likhaan Journal. Instructions on How to Disappear, published in 2016 by Visprint, Inc., is her first collection of short fiction.

“Rites of Passage” is set in the Philippines and tells of the tiyanak, a vampiric baby. Three separate stories of three different young women intertwine with the mythology of the tiyanak, examining the secret and bloody rites of sex, pregnancy and childbirth beneath the heavy eye of morality and religion. 

Gabriela shares the background to one of the darkest stories in Black Cranes:

GABRIELA LEE: “Rites of Passage” is a story rooted in the Philippine mythological creature called the tiyanak. According to legend, the tiyanak was a shapeshifter, a creature of the forest, a monster that took the form of a baby, except for its red eyes and skin, and its sharp teeth. It would mimic the cry of a child, leading hapless people into the forest to look for it. Once it was picked up by the man or woman who sought to comfort it, it would attack the person and consume them. Other people say that it was the abandoned foetus from abortions – one of the many reproductive rights denied to women in the Philippines. I wanted to write a story about the horrors of motherhood in the Philippines, without sounding moralistic or antagonistic, and using the device of the tiyanak seemed like an appropriate way of exploring the cycle of the experience without directly confronting it; telling it slant. 

Thanks for joining us for the final post in the blog tour for Black Cranes: Tales of Unquiet Women. If you’d like to read the stories covered in the tour, you can click on the link below.

BLACK CRANES: TALES OF UNQUIET WOMEN edited by Lee Murray and Geneve Flynn

RELEASE DATE: 26/09/20

GENRE: Horror

PUBLISHER: Omnium Gatherum

AVAILABLE HERE: https://omniumgatherumedia.com/black-cranes

Skythane Blog Tour Guest Post By: J. Scott Coatsworth

Sometimes it sucks being an author.

I’m in the muddy middle of my current WIP, a novel tentatively titled “Twin Moons Rising.” I reach a point in every story where my belief in myself as a writer fails me. It’s called imposter syndrome, and it can be brutal for any writer.

For me, it manifests in that muddy middle. All of a sudden the brilliant idea I had seems like so much derivative drivel. I suck as a writer. My characters are flat, my plot boring and pedestrian, and I’d be better off as an accountant. A fireman. Anything but a writer.

The first time this happened, I spent five years writing and rewriting a novel until I just about literally wrote it into the ground.

It’s become a bit of a tradition, along with the consuming of writing chocolate every morning (that’s totally a thing) and the book release celebration. I pass the halfway point and my inner critic shows up, ready to trash my latest work.

Here’s the thing. I wasn’t able to overcome Imposter Syndrome until I accepted it as a part of the job of being a writer. It’s like the critical parent who pushes their kids to be better, or the editor who murders your story with a red pen, but in the end makes it so much better.

My internal critic is what drives me to be better, even if he’s a bit of an asshole about it.

So I greet him like an old friend. I let myself feel sick for a little bit. And then I push ahead and write through the mud. Eventually I come out on the far side, and it all works out.

So embrace your critic. Let your imposter flag fly. And keep writing until you’re flying.

Book Blurb:

Jameson Havercamp, a psych from a conservative religious colony, has come to Oberon—unique among the Common Worlds—in search of a rare substance called pith. He’s guided through the wilds on his quest by Xander Kinnson, a handsome, cocky skythane with a troubled past.

Neither knows that Oberon is facing imminent destruction. Even as the world starts to fall apart around them, they have no idea what’s coming—or the bond that will develop between them as they race to avert a cataclysm.

Together, they will journey to uncover the secrets of this strange and singular world, even as it takes them beyond the bounds of reality itself to discover what truly binds them.

Series Blurb:

Oberon is unique among the Common Worlds – a half-world with a strange past and an uncertain future.

Jameson Havercamp and Xander Kinnson are thrust into the middle of a world-ending event and have to scramble to save the world – and themselves.

Along the way, they peel back the layers of the onion to discover secrets wrapped in secrets that will eventually take them to where it all started – and may provide the key to saving Oberon and everyone on it.

Black Cranes: Tales of Unquiet Women blog tour Sept 21st – Oct 12th  Part three of four.

By Lee Murray and Geneve Flynn

Black Cranes: Tales of Unquiet Women is an anthology of Southeast Asian horror which subverts expectations of Asian women and their place in society. It brings to light the furious and restless spirits which sometimes lie behind the smiling facade of quiet submissiveness and familial duty. 

Edited by award-winning author and editor Lee Murray, and published short story author and editor Geneve Flynn, the anthology was released by Omnium Gatherum on September 26th, 2020, and features esteemed authors of dark fiction such as Rena Mason, Angela Yuriko Smith, and Christina Sng. 

It has been called an “instant classic” by Nightmare Feed, and “one of the best anthologies of 2020” by Pseudopod.

This series of four blog posts introduces the editors and contributors, and reveals the inspiration behind the fourteen dark stories which feature in Black Cranes. In this post, we meet Angela Yuriko Smith, Elaine Cuyegkeng, and Christina Sng.

Angela Yuriko Smith is an American poet, publisher and author of Okinawan descent. Her first collection of poetry, In Favor of Pain, was nominated for a 2017 Elgin Award. Her novella Bitter Suites is a 2018 Bram Stoker Awards® Finalist. In 2019 she won the SFPA’s poetry contest in the dwarf form category. She has been nominated for a 2020 Pushcart Prize. She co-publishes Space and Time Magazine, a 53-year-old publication dedicated to fantasy, horror and science fiction. For more information visit SpaceandTime.net or AngelaYSmith.com.

Angela has two stories in Black Cranes: “Vanilla Rice” and “Skin Dowdy.” 

In a society where technological cosmetics are the latest craze, “Skin Downy” examines the pressure for women to be beautiful, and to have their worth tied so intimately with their appearances. Desperate to keep her husband’s attention, Leilani demands bigger and better upgrades until she is a glittering goddess. But appearances aren’t everything, and revenge isn’t always best served cold.

“Vanilla Rice” is set in a future world where Asians are second-class citizens and DNA can be manipulated to create babies who look white. Meiko, an expectant mother, wants a better life for her baby and installs an Attribute Chip. As her daughter grows, it seems that everything Meiko dreamed of has come true. Then Katsue begins to sense that she is different. 

Here’s what inspired both stories:

ANGELA YURIKO SMITH: Like my character Katsue in “Vanilla Rice”, I’m a blend of races. My maternal grandmother was Okinawan and my father is descended from the Kentucky Scotch-Irish. The two cultures were an odd match but it worked for them. I’m positive the in-laws never met.

Growing up in Cheyenne, Wyoming, I had no concept of diversity. Everyone was from the same Mid-western pot. I learned quickly not to divulge private details. The day I mentioned I liked seaweed on rice doomed me socially. It didn’t help that I was ugly and awkward with a broken front tooth and taped-up coke-bottle glasses.

My grandmother was my angel. One day I told her I would name my first girl baby Yuriko after her. She made me promise not to, saying that Americans would always look down on a child with an Asian name. She always used the name “Mary,” a name given to her as a child by authorities because it was easier to say. She’s the inspiration behind Katsue’s mother, Meiko. I’ve been outraged for her my whole life

We shared the shame of being different, but, where she wanted to be all Caucasian, I wanted to be more Asian. She wished to be admitted to the world I inhabited, but it was a world I didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t until I learned to accept and celebrate my position caught between two cultures that I learned to be comfortable with myself and with others.

In “Vanilla Rice,” Katsue becomes a monster in pursuit of authenticity. In “Skin Dowdy,” Leilani is stunning but false. Someday I hope we can move beyond labels and artificial standards of beauty and accept ourselves “as is.” Then there will be no such thing as monsters.

Elaine Cuyegkeng is a Chinese Filipino writer. She grew up in Manila where there are many, many creaky old houses with ghosts inside them. She loves eusocial creatures both real and imaginary, and ’80s pop stars. She now lives in Melbourne with her partner, and their two small cat children. She has been published in Strange Horizons, Lackington’s, The Dark, and Rocket Kapre. You can find her on @layangabi on Twitter and on Facebook.

Elaine’s story “The Genetic Alchemist’s Daughter” is set in a future Philippines, where children can be made and remade in secret until they are flawless. Leto is her mother’s perfect right hand: the very image of everything that Chua Mercado Genetic Alchemy promises. But things were not always that way, and soon, Leto finds out why.

Here is how the story came about:

ELAINE CUYEGKENG: If I had to comp this short story, it would be Crazy Rich Asians meets Brave New World. I grew up in a culture that mythologises its founders, is deeply invested in legacy, and what descendants owe that legacy and their families. But I was the weird kid who never really fit (like so many of my SF peers!), and grew up morbidly fascinated by Huxley’s universe, everyone carefully designed and conditioned to be exactly what their world needed them to be (the horror and bleakness didn’t really hit me until I was older).

Fast forward years later—I’m living in Melbourne with the love of my life, and Crazy Rich Asians hits the theatres. And the film, which grappled with diaspora, with identity and family, things I was grappling with too, ended with a fairy tale ending that left me unsettled instead. 

All of these things percolated, I guess, into the strange Frankenstein story of Leto, her mother, the push and pull between them, and Leto finally rebelling, and finding a way to make herself heard.

Christina Sng is a fourth-generation Singaporean-Chinese. Her paternal grandparents were Peranakan and Teochew-Cantonese, while her maternal grandparents were Hakka and Cantonese. She was born and raised in Singapore, and lived in Canada and Australia for several years.

Her award-winning poetry, fiction, and art have been widely published and exhibited around the world. She is the author of Bram Stoker Award winner A Collection of Nightmares, Elgin Award runner-up Astropoetry, and A Collection of Dreamscapes. 

Christina lives in Singapore with her children and a menagerie of curious pets. Visit her at christinasng.com and connect on social media @christinasng.

Christina’s story “Fury” is set on a near-Earth planet in the future, where a deadly virus has killed thousands, turning them into super zombies. Kate, a young, highly trained operative, escapes an attack and boards a plane, only to crash-land in a small town. She is heartbroken to leave her father behind but must find Chandran, a doctor who is rumoured to have a cure, before the town is overrun.

Christina shares the story behind “Fury”:

CHRISTINA SNG: “Fury” is Kate’s origin story. She is an outlier, thanks to her unconventional father who raised her and elevated her in a deeply authoritarian world. Her fury fuels her right from the start to survive; first in a world where status and gender rule, and later, in an apocalypse which levels the playing field.

Stay tuned next week for final part of the blog series, which will feature Rena Mason, Rin Chupeco, and Gabriela Lee.

Thanks for joining us for part three of the blog tour for Black Cranes: Tales of Unquiet Women. If you’d like to read the stories mentioned here, head to the link below.

BLACK CRANES: TALES OF UNQUIET WOMEN edited by Lee Murray and Geneve Flynn

RELEASE DATE: 26/09/20

GENRE: Horror

PUBLISHER: Omnium Gatherum

AVAILABLE HERE: https://omniumgatherumedia.com/black-cranes