Michelle L. Levigne's Blog, page 54

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

I wiped my suddenly sweaty hands on my pants. Oh, yeah, I was in my pajamas. I didn't want Daniel to see me dressed like this. Besides, why would he come at nearly 3am? Why would he use the front door? He had always used the kitchen door, from the very first time he came to my house.

Proof he wasn't Daniel? Kind of a relief … Still, opening it to the doppelganger wasn't very smart, either. Then I looked down at my legs again. I was standing up. The reaction of whichever Daniel was at the door would clarify who he was. Besides, Kurt and Jane were probably hovering --

My phone pinged, as if he heard my thoughts.

Here. Did you know Daniel glows in the dark?

Duh. Not him.

Plan?

Pincer move? Get ready.

I took the last few steps to the door. My knees wobbled. Too much time standing, and I didn't note when I got up, so I didn't know if my upright-on-my-own-feet-again time was increasing. I winced as I hit the light switch next to the door, fearing I would hit the wrong one of the three. One switch for the light outside, one for directly over the door inside, and another light at the other end of the room. Like I said before, we never used the front door. Which should have been proof enough whoever was there wasn't Daniel. So did the doppelganger glow because Kurt and Jane saw it through the Ghost field?

Taking a deep breath, I flipped the deadbolt and yanked hard to pull the door open. It stuck -- because, hey, never used -- and groaned as I pulled it open.

Daniel grinned at me and reached for the screen door handle.

He glowed, an odd, black light sort of effect, like when dead Obi-Wan showed up to talk to Luke. Or Bob Newhart as Professor Proton talked to Sheldon, much against his will. Professor Proton, not Sheldon.

Off the Bookshelf: THE IDEA, by Erik Bork

 

Writing Book

I heard about this book listening to the Story Blender, a podcast by Steven James.

The subtitle is: The Seven Elements of a Viable Story for Screen, Stage, or Fiction

Each chapter devoted to the elements has a checklist to go through, to see if you're providing the element, meeting the criteria for making your script or book the best it can be. Translation: the most salable, readable, watchable product for the producer or publisher to support.

A sample from the Table of Contents: 

Chapter 1: Focus on the idea. The 60/30/10 Rule, The Problem, How "High" is Your Concept? and Nailing the Logline. 

Chapter 2: Punishing. Degree of Difficulty, Great Stories Are Like Great Games, Adapting True Stories, Television and the "Web of Conflict."

On and on. Intense. This is one of those books I'm going to have to read several times to get everything out of it, and refresh what I've learned in my mind, so I can apply it to the brainstorming and revising process.

Glad I bought it, and definitely keeping in my library.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

  

My doorbell rang. That freaked me out, because nobody ever used the doorbell. I only had a doorbell on the front door, and the only people who used it were people I didn't know. Why would a stranger be ringing my doorbell at nearly 3am on New Year's Day? My office window was on the back of the house, my blinds and curtains were down to block out the cold radiating through the glass, and there no lights on to let anyone know I was home or awake.

"Is something out there?" I asked, when the two AI's just blinked at me.

"I can't really … tell," London said after a pause that felt way too long for me. "We'll have to get back to you." The screen blanked, and for a second I had to fight down a sense of being abandoned.

My legs started aching and jerking, with those near-cramps that I could only deal with if I got up and walked around. I jerked myself up out of my wheelchair, and suddenly I got a freaky, stupid, nasty idea. I snatched up my phone from the side table where it was charging and unplugged it. As I walked, carefully, out of my office and aimed for the front door, I texted Kurt. Just in case whoever was outside had really sharp ears and could hear any conversations going on inside. Which might mean it heard what London and Sherwood and I had been discussing.

Something or someone at my door. How close are you?

By the time I got down the hall and turned to cut through the living room, my phone pinged.

Over the schools.

Knowing how Kurt and Jane could go near-sonic speeds in the Ghost field, they were probably over my house by the time I took five steps. Granted, my steps were really slow. I put my phone in my pocket, mentally shrugging as I realized I was in summer-weight pajamas and about to open my door to frigid temperatures. I paused to study the silhouette visible in the little porthole window of the front door. There were no lights on behind me. Not even the nightlight in the fan over the stove. That had burned out two weeks ago, and I had been too busy preparing for a full blow-out family Christmas to deal with things like replacing the bulb.

The enemy couldn't see me. Unless he could see through solid objects, and then the gig was up anyway.

 Another knock. Then a voice that sounded like Daniel called through the door, "Lanie? Are you okay? I'm pretty sure you aren't able to get to bed after all that weirdness." He laughed, and it was Daniel's laugh.

His normal laugh. Not the ragged, kind of awkward laugh he had been using the last few weeks.

The real Daniel would know that I couldn't sleep for all the ideas swirling through my head after what happened at Eden.

Right now, I was kind of hoping Daniel was at the door. Maybe we could finally have some privacy to discuss things, like why he couldn't seem to look me in the eye lately, or make jokes, and why he kept on the other side of the room during our Star Trek club Christmas party.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

So it was a good thing I still wasn't asleep at 2:45am, working on my next Talk to Terry column, when London took over my computer screen to report in. She apologized for not recognizing that the lack of change in the energy filling Neighborlee over the holidays was actually a danger sign.

"Come again?" I wondered for a moment or two if I had fallen asleep and was dreaming this report.

"We should have gotten surges of energy from all the high holiday spirits and good will spilling into town from about Thanksgiving onward. There was a slight rise. Enough to make us think everything was fine. We should have realized the energy bubbles should have been a lot higher and stronger. Meaning something was draining that extra energy all the visitors and shoppers and holiday activities have brought into town."

"And with the big surge of excitement from New Year's, whatever happened when the doppelganger came into the party and masqueraded as Daniel … it was covered up?" I guessed.

Yeah, I had been reading some of the right science fiction books, but obviously not all, or not enough.

"Basically. We're tracking down its footprints, its energy signature. We think we've found one weak spot where it slipped through the defensive shield."

"So it came from outside?" That little bit of news gave me a jolt of energy. I was not going to bed any time soon.

"Looks like it."

"And it hasn't slithered out again," Sherwood reported, as my computer screen split in two to let him show up. "At least, as far as we can tell." 

"So what's it doing? Who is it masquerading as and who is it bothering right --"

Off the Bookshelf: GILDED, by Marissa Meyer

 

Marissa Meyer comes through with another revision of a familiar faerie tale.

This time it's Rumpelstiltskin.

Sort of.

We have the miller's daughter and the lie that she can spin straw into gold, but the king who requires the feat is uber evil. In fact, not even human. And the offer of the firstborn child in payment for help is made to the gold spinner, rather than a demand coming from him.

And then there's the whole intricate tapestry of the dark, twisted, nightmare side of faerie tales that most of us don't hear, even if we devoured all the grim Brothers Grimm stories.

Whew! Worth the wild ride (even if it involves the Wild Hunt), rich with detail and heartache and humor ... but buckle your seatbelt and brace against whiplash, when the book comes to a sudden stop even though the story itself is nowhere near completion. Yep, there's got to be another book, hopefully coming soon, because the fate of Serilda the miller's daughter is nowhere near set in stone, even if it's so achingly grim and hopeless.

Can I hear a "wow" from the peanut gallery?

New Book Releasing TODAY!

 

New from Ye Olde Dragon Books

Just when the guardians of Neighborlee believe they can relax and enjoy the results of their labors, a new enemy makes a strike, aiming at some newcomers who have come to town seeking shelter. Is this another, roundabout attempt to break down the defensive shield around the town, or a more sinister plot?

 

Are the attacks aimed ultimately at Angela?

 

Clues indicate this isn't a new enemy at all, but an old enemy making another attempt to get a foothold in Neighborlee and perhaps steal not just magic, but break open the gates that Divine's Emporium and Angela keep securely closed.

 

What type of magic is this that seems to be active only at night, and disintegrates with the coming of dawn?

Available in Paper, Ebook and Audio!

New Release: CADETS, Young Defenders, Book 1

 

“Is she covered in tattoos?“ Shayn asked.

“No, not really. Just a few scars are visible on her face. The rest on her arms and legs are covered by her uniform. E’bett says she carries a very big knife. It’s tradition.“ She winked, prompting chuckles from Tila and Ben.

Jorgan suspected Maenta was teasing, just a little. He didn’t think she was lying, because she was a Le’ankan master. They couldn’t lie, could they?

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The only time Shayn and Jorgan could find an open spot to play in the zero-gravity tank was early the next morning, an hour before breakfast. When they went to bed that night, they set the controls in the wall screen in their room to wake them up half an hour before that open time. That would give them time to dress and get to the recreation deck. Before they could tell their parents what they planned, Ben knocked on the door of their suite and came in.

“What are you boys getting up so early for?“ he asked.

“How do you know?“ Shayn blurted.

“We’re responsible for everything you do on this station.“ Their father sat down on the small couch in the sitting room. Jorgan thought he didn’t look angry, just concerned. “When you program anything into the room controls, it alerts us. It also tells us when you go into any part of the station that isn’t strictly residential.“

“Will it tell you when we go to the recreation deck?“ Jorgan asked. “Isn't that considered part of the residential section?“

“Oh. Right.“ Ben grinned. “What are you planning on doing in there? Before breakfast.“

“Well, we planned on taking some of the food in there.“ Shayn gestured at the cabinet kitchen. “That's the only time the zero-g tank is open.“

“Okay, makes sense. Did you reserve it?“

“We forgot!“

“Duh,“ Jorgan said. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or groan. “We should have thought of that.“

“Yes, you should. You don’t want to get up that early and get to the rec deck and find out some other people had the same idea, but they got there a minute ahead of you,“ Ben said.

“We were going to ask you,“ Shayn said. “We were just excited we figured out how to set the time.“

“That’s good to know. Just rearrange your steps.“

Ben figured out how to navigate through the station services system to reserve the time in the zero-g tank, without having to go to the recreation deck to do it. When the boys asked him if he wanted to come play with them, he laughed and said he might think about it. If he woke up early enough.

New Release: CADETS, Young Defenders, Book 1

 Jorgan saw the way his parents’ eyes widened and they sat up a little straighter and exchanged those looks parents were so good at. The looks that said lots of things in total silence, so that he could believe his parents could read each other’s minds.

Then he understood. People from Nisandros liked nothing better than to get into fights. The more dangerous, the better. The more scars they got in fights, the happier they were. They made sure people knew all the scars they had by marking them with tattoos. At least, that was what he had read in textbooks talking about the cultures on the many worlds the Alliance had discovered so far. Nisandros wasn’t part of the Alliance yet. They kept delaying, talking with diplomats and ambassadors, and arguing over details Jorgan just didn’t understand. Who wouldn’t want to be part of the Alliance?

Nisandrians didn’t agree with what the Alliance believed and what the Academy taught. They believed in Enlo, but they didn’t really worship the All-Maker like Neoma and the Le’ankan masters taught. They preferred to ask the spirits of their ancestors what to do, rather than pray to Enlo. That just didn't make sense at all to Jorgan. Another big difference was that Nisandros disagreed with the teaching that long ago, the homeworld of all Humans, Core, was endangered. A group of people with superior technology, known as the Gatekeepers, opened up doorways in space, called Gates, and took all the Humans from Core to save their lives. They scattered Humans across the universe, on different planets. The Alliance was formed to find all the scattered Human worlds, unite the Human race, and find the Gatekeepers if they were still alive.

Nisandrians claimed they were different from ordinary Humans. Better. Stronger. They didn’t need to do things the way Enlo’s teachers taught. So they didn’t want to join the Alliance, because they didn’t want to admit they were wrong.

At least, that was how Jorgan interpreted all the things he read and learned about Nisandros.

“If she’s in the Fleet, that means she believes in Enlo and Neoma and the Gatekeepers?“ he asked.

“Oh, yes, most certainly.“ Maenta nodded. “Very good question.“

Off the Bookshelf: VIVA DURANT AND THE SECRET OF THE SILVER BUTTONS, by Ashli St. Armant

 

Audible Exclusive, Audible Original

Narrated by Bahni Turpin

Viva is 14 years old, spending the summer with her grandmother in New Orleans. Her fears that the summer will be boring are quickly trashed when a newspaper article about a missing family treasure catches her interest. Of course, she can't openly search for clues and do research, because Gram thinks the story is silly, a waste of time and effort.

This fun adventure is like a travel guide and a sampling of the geography and culture of New Orleans. Viva is smart, but not too smart, as she plans her steps and follows up on research, and deals with disappointments and embarrassing moments -- like getting caught hiding under a bed in a historic house while looking for clues -- with guts and determination, in a believable manner. She's a real kid, and she's going to solve this mystery one way or another. No matter what anyone says, she's determine to prove that an old song is a road map to find a family's missing treasure, tied to "silver buttons all down her back" on a black dress.

This is the start of what promises to be a fun series. Can't wait to listen to Viva's next adventure, next summer when she returns to New Orleans.

Merry Christmas!!!