Edward Hoornaert's Blog, page 31
June 18, 2019
A Ravin’ Review #1
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Constellation XXI just got a rave review, and I’m so tickled that I want to share it with you.
Review site Whiskey With My Book ~ And a cozy spot to enjoy them both really liked the book. Quoth the Ravin’:
I first started reading Constellation XXI and got distracted by names that were familiar – that’s when I realized this is book 3 of the Repelling the Invasion series. That reminded me that the first book in the series, The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station, is one of my favourite SFR stories!
And:
Ed Hooenart [sic] has a talent for bringing out the humour and humanity of his characters. Repelling the Invasion is probably my favourite of his series, and Constellation XXI just proves that his stories just keep getting better. Highly recommend reading this one!
Thanks, Whiskey!
Constellation XXI
Rediscovering Love at the Worst Possible Time
When her tugship inexplicably loses power while aimed straight at her space station home, Sienna Dukelsky tries frantically to get her ship working in time. But can she cooperate with Crispin Hunt, a former lover she’d once betrayed, to create a way to regain control before the ship kills thousands?
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June 15, 2019
Effing Feline needs help! #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, do NOT need help, no matter what the title of this post says. I am perfect as is, or as close to perfection as you humans will ever hear purr. But Ed . . .
Let me tell you, that man needs help. Seriously. He’s written a whole book but he doesn’t have a title! Whoever heard of a book titled Untitled? Even a cat knows that’s sick, man, sick.
But you can help the poor schlub. Read the opening, then help him with a title:
The woman currently calling herself Lou wanted to gawk, but she didn’t dare slow her footsteps. Dawdling in this crowd would draw attention. Attention meant peril.
Back home, space stations were cramped, dingy cargo-transfer depots, painted institutional grey and smelling of industrial-strength cleaners. Farflung Station, though, was a city dancing through the Black. This downtown business corridor was wide, graceful, and ornamented with murals and artwork. The high ceiling held sculptures incorporating everyday objects like circuit cubes, hyperspace coils, and airlock valves. Colored lights turned the sculptures into an overhead fairyland that sent ever-changing hues scurrying over her creamy white blouse in time to an upbeat dance tune.
These people had turned Farflung into a place of beauty she could fall in love with — except that they were her enemies. Minor details . . .
Effing Feline here again. Since most of you are writers rather than psychiatrists, the best way to help my poor dum-dum pet is to vote on one of his proposed titles. Or suggest a title of your own in a comment.
He’s looking for the most salable title, so don’t worry too much about knowing the book (although there is a blurb available).
Vote here. Pretty please with a purr on top?
Be sure to visit the other great writers contributing to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
June 12, 2019
Picture It – The real Lions Gate #mfrwauthor #PictureIt
You’ve probably heard of the Lions Gate Film company . . . but what is the original Lions Gate?
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This is Lions Gate bridge in Vancouver — Canada’s answer to the Golden Gate. Although Lions Gate Films is now based in California, it was founded in the Great White North.
This picture is from many years ago when I lived there. I still love that city.
Picture It — The real Lions Gate #mfrwauthor #PictureIt
You’ve probably heard of Lions Gate films . . . but what is the original Lions Gate?
[image error]
This is Lions Gate bridge in Vancouver — Canada’s answer to the Golden Gate. This picture is from many years ago when I lived there.
June 8, 2019
Effing Feline’s greatest ambition #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, am the kind of amazingly complex character you authors can only dream of creating. I have more depth than any cat who ever lived. I am a stable genius, yet also a fierce hunter — and I’m humble, to boot.
But am I satisfied with my perfection? Never! I have yearnings, aspirations, and dreams of growing until I become even greater.
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No, not greater like a lion. I’ll tell you my biggest ambition in a moment but first, a word from our sponsor — Mr V’s near-future romance, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters.
Last week we met Quinn, a con artist from Kwadra, an island inhabited by technologically advanced humans from an alternate Earth. Although a policewoman named Squitt is chasing him, Quinn pauses to kiss an American tourist, which angers her muscular husband..
“What the hell you doing to my wife?” The body builder plodded forward, careful of his youthful burden — but his care went for naught. The baby howled.
“Your wife, I am kissing her.” Quinn maneuvered back and forth to keep the woman between him and the angry husband. “You kiss her so infrequently you don’t recognize? Such a beautiful babe with such, you know,” he gestured with both hands to indicate her curves, “gets no kisses? Oh, for shame; you should treat her better.”
The wife fought a smile; the husband yelled; the baby cried; and Sergeant Squitt thundered around the corner of Rue Frank Kennedy.
Again Quinn had delayed too long, but it was more fun this way.
Effing Feline here again. I am about to share with you my greatest ambition, so lean in to your device and watch closely.
It’s not to become a lion (though that would be great). No, I aspire to become the grand specimen of feline heroism shown below. I dare you authors to create a character with a more magnificent dream! Thirty-five pounds of purring satisfaction!
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday. And now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go have a snack.
Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds an alien hero
to save her . . . or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne Harmon is sick and tired of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island, home of the marooned aliens from an alternate Earth. 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 Lebatarde, a Kwadran 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 get rich by kidnapping her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
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June 6, 2019
Picture It — The barrio #mfrwauthor #PictureIt
I’ve decided to try to start a Thursday feature on my blog — a feature that requires little writing, hence time. Each Thursday I’ll post a photograph I’ve taken. I find these photos interesting and hopefully some of you will, too.
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(c) Ed Hoornaert
This picture of a church was taken in the old part of Tucson, Arizona, called the barrio. Before air conditioning made the desert more bearable, Tucson was a very small city despite being one of the oldest settlements in the United States. Archaeologists have found traces of settlements dating as far back as 2100 BC.
This church is NOT from that original settlement.
June 4, 2019
Poised on the knife’s edge #mfrwhooks
Time for another hook from Rescuing Prince Charming, a near-future sci fi romance. Dusty Johnson, a mild-mannered tech writer and an alien Kwadran guard have discovered a ticking time bomb hidden in an unfinished starship prototype. They plan to throw the bomb from a terrace into the ocean..
“Open it,” Dusty shouted.
The Kwadran pulled the door again. It remained closed.
She started to give the bomb to him but he was already grabbing it from her. If the door was locked, she was dead, because she didn’t have a key. But if it was only latched and he wasn’t familiar with this Earth’s sliding glass doors —
Dusty lifted the latch and pulled. The door opened, blasting her with brisk November air smelling of ocean and evergreens. She stepped back to let him pass, and though it would’ve been safer to get as far away as possible, she followed him outside.
“Toss it over the –”
But their minds were in perfect sync; he was already charging toward the railing. He hurled the bomb over the side with the grace and power of a javelin thrower.
Huffing, Dusty grabbed the cold, metal railing and looked down. Three long steel posts reached forty yards down to the steep and rocky forest below. If the bomb landed near a post, the blast would bring down the terrace with her on it. But did she run? Nope.
She leaned over the railing and put an arm on the back of her amazing companion. Although she didn’t know his name, there was no one she’d rather stand shoulder-to-shoulder with, facing oblivion, panting in unison, poised on the knife’s edge separating death from life.
Be sure to check out the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
Rescuing Prince Charming
She’s no heroine. He’s no Prince Charming.
Not exactly the pair you’d choose to defend Earth’s first starship.
[image error]Dusty Johnson, a self-styled ordinary, everyday woman, responds with extraordinary heroism when saboteurs try to bomb the prototype of Earth’s first starship. She wants to return to anonymity, but that burst of courage propels her ever deeper into dangers that tear the scabs off her dark past — and thrust her into the arms of the unattainable man of her dreams.
Reese Eaglesbrood, an alien prince, yearns to restore his tattered reputation by guiding the starship project to completion, but his fascination with the unassuming heroine threatens to undermine his fragile authority. Shunning Dusty is necessary, yet unthinkable — and when the saboteurs strike again, she may be his only ally against Earth’s most elusive enemies.
Rescuing Prince Charming is available free for a limited time on Prolific Works.
June 1, 2019
Effing Feline’s PSA #wewriwa
I, Effing Feline, hate heat.
I know, I know — most cats love heat so much they’ll lie on a radiator in a sunny window. All I can say is they’ve never done it in Arizona. I tried it . . . once. Here’s what I looked like afterward. Viewer discretion advised. If you have a weak stomach, don’t look, I beg you!
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Sigh.
I’m continuing with the opening scene of Mr V’s near future sci fi romance, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters. Last week we met Quinn, a con artist from Kwadra, an island inhabited by technologically advanced aliens from an alternate Earth. It’s a duplicate of our Earth’s Vancouver Island — but its inhabitants aren’t Canadians , but descendants of the aboriginal people who lived there before Captain Cook.
When a policewoman named Squitt tries to arrest Quinn for scamming a tourist, he flees. This snippet picks up from there.
Quinn narrowly avoided a collision with a tough-looking Merkin with a baby strapped to his chest, but he bumped into the mother. “You hurted, madam?” he asked in his best English. She was pretty in a tired sort of way, so why not take the time to be polite? After all, Squitt lumbered rather than sprinted.
“Watch where you’re going, jerk,” growled the husband. He balled a fist and flexed his biceps, but not even a scowling body builder could look fierce with a baby strapped to his chest.
“You’re Kwadran,” his wife said in a breathless voice, as though enthralled by meeting an alluring but dangerous prison escapee.
“Never fear,” Quinn said to the thunder-browed man, “I shall kiss your wife and make her all better.”
And so he did, on the lips, for a count of five—the longest he dared under the circumstances; she tasted of hot dog and mustard. He kept his eyes open to watch the husband as well as the intersection where Squitt would appear, but the woman closed her eyes and kissed him back.
Effing Feline here again. Don’t let your cat (or dog, I suppose) get sunburned. Don’t let your cat (or dog, mutter mutter) get heatstroke. Click the PSA (Public Service Announcement) below to find out how to keep your pet safe.
Be sure to visit the other great writers in Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday.
Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s sister finds an alien hero
to save her . . . or is he kidnapping her, instead?
[image error]Marianne Harmon is sick and tired of being just the kid sister of the famous queen of Kwadra Island, home of the marooned aliens from an alternate Earth. 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 Lebatarde, a Kwadran 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 get rich by kidnapping her. With bloodthirsty rebels pursuing them and a treasure map in his pocket, what will he choose?
Amazon
Amazon Canada
Amazon UK
Amazon Australia
Apple iBooks
Smashwords
Kobo Books
Barnes and Noble
May 30, 2019
Picture It — The birth of the Web #mfrwauthor #PictureIt
I’ve decided to try to start a Thursday feature on my blog — a feature that requires little writing, hence time. Each Thursday I’ll post a photograph I’ve taken. I find these photos interesting in themselves. Hopefully some of you will, too.
[image error]
(c) Ed Hoornaert
This one was taken during an IEEE technical writing conference in one of my favourite places on Earth, Banff National Park. The photo was taken on the grounds of the Banff School of the Arts, another favourite place of mine.
The conference was memorable because it was when I learned how to create content pages for the World Wide Web, then in its infancy, smelly diapers and all. Back then you had to type codes in the HTML language to format a page, and things did not always work right.
May 28, 2019
Appendix surgery, anyone? #mfrwhooks
Time for another hook from Rescuing Prince Charming, a near-future sci fi romance. Dusty Johnson, a mild-mannered tech writer,* and a Kwadran** guard have discovered a time bomb hidden in the mechanical deck of an unfinished starship prototype. Now they hurry to remove it from the ship before it explodes.
* I spent 20+ years writing software manuals. I promised myself one day I’d write a tech writer hero.
** Kwadrans are technologically advanced humans from an alternate Earth, now marooned here.
After he slapped the switch that opened the trapdoor, light provided her first good look at the guard above the waist. He was scowling, but the furrows on his brow merely accentuated his rugged good looks. His long, dark hair was braided. So, he was one of those aliens who flaunted their Amerind ancestry to set themselves apart from the Americans of this world.
He climbed halfway up the ladder. Moving with supreme caution, she held the bomb toward his extended hand.
“Hurry!” He grabbed the box and climbed the rope ladder like an agile monkey. The lid nearly fell off, making Dusty’s heart pole-vault her ribs.
As she followed, her mind obsessed on two things: the nearness of death and the nearness of life embodied in the expanse of his male flesh. Dusty poked her head out of the trapdoor. “You’re going the wrong way! That leads to crew quarters.”
The open trapdoor blocked his way back, so she leaped to the right side of it and leaned her hands over the hole in the passageway. “Give it to me.”
Miracle of miracles, he didn’t argue, just stretched his arms over the trapdoor to give her the bomb. While he closed the trapdoor, she ran to the starship’s bridge. From there, she hurried to the open airlock and down the ramp to the melt-rock floor of the artificial cavern housing the Owikeeno Research Facility. Wiki, for short.
She ran. Behind her, the Kwadran’s footsteps banged down the metal ramp, barely loud enough to be heard over the klaxon that still screamed its warning.
“Where are you heading?” he called. He wasn’t even breathing hard. She wanted to kiss him — later — for his bravery and his conditioning.
“The terrace.” From there, she could throw the bomb into the ocean. She ran toward the only natural light in the huge cavern, where a pair of sliding glass doors led to a patio overlooking the fjord. “Time?”
“Seventy-eight seconds.”
Oh, God. It was still a long way to the doors. She tried to be a heroine and what did she get? A ticking time bomb eager to remove her appendix.
Be sure to check out the hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.
Rescuing Prince Charming
She’s no heroine. He’s no Prince Charming.
Not exactly the pair you’d choose to defend Earth’s first starship.
[image error]Dusty Johnson, a self-styled ordinary, everyday woman, responds with extraordinary heroism when saboteurs try to bomb the prototype of Earth’s first starship. She wants to return to anonymity, but that burst of courage propels her ever deeper into dangers that tear the scabs off her dark past — and thrust her into the arms of the unattainable man of her dreams.
Reese Eaglesbrood, an alien prince, yearns to restore his tattered reputation by guiding the starship project to completion, but his fascination with the unassuming heroine threatens to undermine his fragile authority. Shunning Dusty is necessary, yet unthinkable — and when the saboteurs strike again, she may be his only ally against Earth’s most elusive enemies.
Rescuing Prince Charming is available free for a limited time on Prolific Works.
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