Edward Hoornaert's Blog, page 16
May 2, 2020
Effing Feline discusses airplanes #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, heard Ed, my pet human, talking about a nephew who’s an airplane pilot. What a ridiculous occupation! Why would any cat in his right mind want to fly in a plane? Yes, I always land on my feet — but from miles up in the air? I’m good, but not that good.
In last week’s snippet from Ed’s WIP, New Saw a Purple Cow, we met a 14-year-old First Nations boy named Billy Seaweed who has the Fireworks virus. This disease affect the brain, and resembles extremely fast-cycling Bipolar Disorder. In the space of a day, Billy’s emotions may be soaring (manic), plunging (depressed), or relatively normal and sane.
Billy’s ‘story problem’ is that he’s the lone Kwakiutl on the island, and he’s afraid he doesn’t know how to be Kwakiutl, rather than a white guy. Here’s his manic attempt to be Indian . . . but all he knows are the stereotypes.
[image error]“I’m an unmoving totem pole,” Billy chanted, “unbending, unblinking, untouched by time, wind or rain.”
Or fucking disease. But he didn’t say that aloud. It’d be bad luck. And he was in a tough place to invoke bad luck — the edge of the cliff that gave Echo Bay its name, with his toes hanging over a twenty meter drop to the submerged rocks at the base.
“Eagle,” he said louder, moving his lips as little as possible. “Raven . . . beaver . . . salmon!”
The energy growing inside him was becoming difficult to control. Soon, then, soon, like shaking a pop can, pointing it at a meddlesome asshole who hadn’t yet learned that you left Billy Seaweed alone, and then stabbing the can with a pocketknife. Whoosh, right in his kisser — and then pointing the knife at the asshole and staring with the expressionless face that always sent white guys running in fear of the savage red man.
Effing Feline here again. Despite always landing on my feet, if I were in an airplane, I’d want a parachute. After all, I only have nine lives!
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PS — Ed’s novel Constellation XXI is a finalist for the 2019 Rone award for best sci-fi novel by an Indie writer. InD’Tale magazine takes reader input into account, so readers with a free account (which leads to no spam!) can vote on which books progress from the semifinals to finals. So please vote for Constellation XXI.
And be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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Never Saw a Purple Cow
You’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about a virus that turns people into madmen, some of whom become creative geniuses?
Spurred by her husband’s infidelity, a suburban housewife smuggles herself into a wilderness quarantine. She’s hoping to redeem her empty life by writing a great book. But the reality of lifetime exile on an island of madmen — including pirates, a suicidal Indian boy, a licentious cult leader — is crueler than any daydream. To survive, she’ll need to adapt.
But how? Nothing in her sheltered life has prepared her for this.
April 28, 2020
Moving higher up her leg #mfrwhooks
In these snippets from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, terrorists have attacked a royal ball. Quinn Lebatarde, a con man wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform, had led Marianne Harmon, the queen’s sister, deep into a tunnel where she’ll be safe.
The next morning, Quinn inspects Marianne’s shoes.
Shaking his head, he stuck a finger through a hole in the bottom. “No wonder you’re groaning. The kid has good walking shoes, but yours are garbage.”
He reached into a pants pocket and pulled out a wad of American money. Peeling off a dozen ten- and twenty-dollar bills, he smoothed them, and inserted them into a shoe. Dissatisfied, he pulled them back out, tore off some corners, and slipped them back in. He repeated the procedure a couple of times and nodded in satisfaction. With more bills, he did the same thing to the other shoe.
“I can’t believe you tore up money to fix my shoes. An American would never have done that.” As she slipped the shoes on, she watched Charleyjohn, trying unsuccessfully to reconcile his arrogance with this irresistible chivalry.
She took a few steps. “The bills help, but my feet still hurt.”
“I’ll rub them for you, eh? I’m pretty good with my hands.”
“I couldn’t let you do that.”
“Loco Merkin,” he muttered. “You want me to help you out or not?”
He had long fingers, like a pianist. Marianne looked from them to her swollen feet, and then at Elfy. The girl still slept, and her feet still hurt. “Well…I guess so.”
Suddenly shy, she sat near Quinn with a leg extended toward him. Kneeling, he placed her foot on his thigh. The contact felt almost as intimate as sleeping in his arms.
No, intimate wasn’t the right word. Sensual.
Quinn was good with his hands. He rubbed from ankle to little toe, moving along the tendons. After repeating this several times, he rolled each of her toes between her fingers, reminding her of piggies going to market. Only for a moment, though, because awareness whispered over her flesh wherever he touched.
Cupping her foot with both hands, he started at the ankle and kneaded down both the sides and bottom of her foot, with special attention to her arch. More whispers. But it was only her foot, for heaven’s sake. Since when did she have a foot fetish?
Next, Quinn gripped her foot as he pushed up past her ankle. He repeated the motion several times, moving higher each time.
“Ahem,” Marianne said. When he didn’t remove his hands—maybe clearing one’s throat didn’t mean the same thing to Kwadrans?—she said, “My calf isn’t sore.”
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
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April 25, 2020
Beatle t’battle t’bottle t’boodle #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, need to clarify a recent post, in which I said Sadie the Good Dog was my Dutch cousin from Amsterdam. Here’s the Instagram post of hers I talked about:
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I want to make clear that I am not related by blood to Sadie. Or any dog, anywhere. We’re related only by marriage. There, I’m glad I cleared that up! Now a word from my sponsor, Ed’s WIP, Never Saw a Purple Cow.
You’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about one that turns people into mad geniuses? Janet Davis, a beautiful 44-year old suburbanite, abandons her husband, her luxurious LA home, even her life to risk madness and death on a quarantined island in the northern wilderness.
She bribed her way onto a small supply boat when she spots another of the story’s main characters, a First Nations lad named Billy Seaweed. We also see what Janet is risking — his mind is affected by the virus she wants to catch.
A splash of unexpected color riveted her eye. At the top of the cliff stood a figure wearing a hooded orange jacket like hunters wore to keep from getting shot by accident. Man, woman, child, she couldn’t tell at this distance, but probably a man, because the overwhelming majority of the patients-slash-inmates on Gilford Island were male. The HNH virus was harder on women, and few women were stupid enough to seek the disease.
No, not stupid. Most women weren’t brave enough.
***
“Beatle t’battle t’bottle t’boodle,” fourteen-year-old Billy Seaweed chanted into the wind. The hood of his bright orange jacket made his voice sound odd, as though it belonged to someone else – and he liked that, because he wasn’t himself. “I’m a totem pole; my legs are cedar, solid and immovable.”
From his vantage point, alone atop the cliff, Billy saw the supply boat pass the sophisticated electronic buoys guarding the quarantine line. He ignored the boat, just as he ignored the drizzle, the complaints of the seagulls, the chill in his fingertips and, most especially, the wild energy that mushroomed inside him like a marshmallow zapped in a microwave.
Effing Feline here again. I goofed again! My disclaimer about Sadie didn’t come out right. I’m not married to Sadie! I would never marry a dog.
Sadie is the pet of Ed’s third son, Brett. That’s the only connection, I swear. We’ve never even sniffed. Honest!
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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Never Saw a Purple Cow
You’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about a virus that turns people into madmen, some of whom become creative geniuses?
Spurred by her husband’s infidelity, a suburban housewife smuggles herself into a wilderness quarantine. She’s hoping to redeem her empty life by writing a great book. But the reality of lifetime exile on an island of madmen — including pirates, a suicidal Indian boy, a licentious cult leader — is crueler than any daydream. To survive, she’ll need to adapt.
But how? Nothing in her sheltered life has prepared her for this.
Effing Feline lightens your quarantine 24 #QuarantineCats
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I, Effing Feline, continue to do my part to help you poor humans who are suffering from confinement because of the Covid19 virus. We cats, of course, are free to live our lives as usual, not that I’m gloating about it.
Check back for another video.
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If you still need something to fill your time, Ed’s highest rated novel (4.8/5.0 on Amazon) is now available for free — The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station.
It’s book one in the Repelling the Invasion series. It is available wherever fine e-books are sold, including:
Amazon | UK | Canada | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
April 23, 2020
Effing Feline lightens your quarantine 23 #QuarantineCats
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I, Effing Feline, continue to makes your stay-at-home/quarantine day brighter. How?
Cat videos!
Check back tomorrow for another video.
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If you still need something to fill your time, Ed’s highest rated novel (4.8/5.0 on Amazon) is now available for free — The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station.
[image error]
It’s book one in the Repelling the Invasion series. It is available wherever fine e-books are sold, including:
Amazon | UK | Canada | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
April 21, 2020
A one-night stand, minus the sex #mfrwhooks
In last week’s snippet from my sci fi rom, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, Marianne insisted that Quinn Lebatarde, a con man wearing Captain Charleyjohn’s Royal Guardian uniform, stop for the night. Their long trek up a tunnel exhausted both her and Elfy, the eleven-year-old traveling with them.
It’s now the next morning. Last week’s snippet ended with: She grabbed the thing closest to hand — a coat that had slipped off her shoulders — and threw it at him with bad-tempered energy.
It was his lime-green uniform jacket. As he caught it, chuckling, she realized he must’ve draped it over her during the night and suffered the chill air in its absence. Regretting her petulance but too grouchy to admit it, she picked up Reese’s coat, which had slipped off Elfy’s shoulders.
“Talk softly,” she warned.
“Okay,” Quinn whispered. Then his gaze slowly raked her body with unabashed interest. “Nice dress. I like it.”
She threw Reese’s jacket at his face. With another chuckle, he caught it with one hand. He tiptoed over to Elfy and placed it gently over her sleeping body.
Then he held out his uniform jacket for Marianne to put on. She allowed him to help, unsure whether to trust him. He wasn’t swaggering, which helped her peace of mind, but his hands lingered on her shoulders just long enough to increase her uncertainty. She liked his touch, but . . .
“Thanks.” Embarrassment made her awkward. This must be what a one-night stand felt like, minus the pleasure of sex.
Quinn, though, smiled broadly. No awkwardness there. If Marianne didn’t know he was married, she would’ve thought he was used to one-night stands. She had no idea how to act around such a man.
N.B. — Quinn isn’t married, but Captain Charleyjohn, the man he’s impersonating, is.
Be sure to visit the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
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Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her.
Or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne is sick of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island. Although she daydreams about being a warrior, when rebels bomb the royal ball she’s shunted to one of the many tunnels that honeycomb Kwadra, where she awaits a captain of the valiant Royal Guardians.
Quinn, a scam artist fleeing the police, dons the uniform of a Royal Guardian killed by a tunnel collapse. When Marianne mistakes him for her bodyguard, Quinn can’t decide whether to save the feisty maiden, fall in love with her—or kidnap her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Amazon | Canada | UK | Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
April 20, 2020
Effing Feline lightens your quarantine 22 #QuarantineCats
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I, Effing Feline, am back. I took a couple days off, but now I’m back with something different — not cat videos, but an animal’s-eye view of these days of quarantine and stay-at-home.
As a house cat who stares out the window every day, I can identify with what Sadie says about windows — except for the bit about smelling.
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You’re probably wondering why I, a cat, am showing a dog’s instagram post. Especially a dog who’s staring out the window at Amsterdam, of all places.
The answer is terribly embarrassing, but . . . well . . . Sadie the good dog is kind of a Dutch relative of mine.
There, I said it. Oh, the shame!
But she’s nice, for a dog, and the sentiment is great. For a dog, she’s very articulate . . . for a dog, that is.
April 18, 2020
Effing Feline rants about social distancing #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, want to tell you what hisses me off about Ed, my pet human. He’s getting tired of being home so much, of not seeing other people, of not being able to go to a store and buy things he wants. Well, I say
TOUGH KIBBLE!
Welcome to my life, Ed. We house cat always have to stay in the house. I never get to socialize. I never get to go to the store to buy things. Sigh.
I now interrupt by rant for a snippet from Ed’s manuscript, Never Saw a Purple Cow.
You’ve read about viruses that turn people into zombies. But how about one that turns people into geniuses? Janet Davis, a beautiful 44-year old suburbanite, abandons her husband, her luxurious LA home, even her life to risk madness and death on a quarantined island in the northern wilderness. She’s on a small supply boat and the drive is trying to talk her out of going to Gilford Island.
“You a poet?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Painter, and hoping Fireworks will turn you into another Rembrandt?”
She didn’t have to answer or pretend to be polite, did she? Wasn’t she close enough to death to indulge herself with that little grace? So she said nothing, just pictured his dark hands flowing over her alabaster breasts.
Alabaster breasts? Lord, even she could write better than that.
Effing Feline here again. I’m open to suggestions of what I should buy if I could browse through a store. Hey, a cat can dream, right?
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
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Never Saw a Purple Cow
Purple Cow: someone who not only doesn’t fit in, they stand out like a . . . well like a purple cow in a dairy herd.
Grade-A example: beautiful middle-aged suburbanite Janet Davis choosing to live among the creative but insane quarantinees of remote Gilford Island.
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Grape flavored milk, anyone?
April 17, 2020
Effing Feline lightens your quarantine 21 #QuarantineCats
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I, Effing Feline, have reached a milestone. Three whole weeks now,I’ve been bring you the best morale booster in the world — cat videos!
Check back tomorrow for another video. Probably, that is. I’m just a cat, and three weeks is the longest I’ve kept at anything other than eat, sleep or chase little pieces of paper tied to a string.
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If you still need something to fill your time, Ed’s highest rated novel (4.8/5.0 on Amazon) is now available for free — The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station.
It’s book one in the Repelling the Invasion series and it’s available wherever fine e-books are sold, including:
Amazon | UK | Canada | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
April 16, 2020
Effing Feline lightens your quarantine 20 #QuarantineCats
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I, Effing Feline, will bring the best morale booster in the world every day for the foreseeable future. You humans need that during your lockdown, or quarantine, or whatever you call it.
Check back tomorrow for another video.
[image error]
If you still need something to fill your time, Ed’s highest rated novel (4.8/5.0 on Amazon) is now available for free — The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station.
[image error]
It’s book one in the Repelling the Invasion series. It is available wherever fine e-books are sold, including:
Amazon | UK | Canada | Australia
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books
Smashwords
