Edward Hoornaert's Blog, page 53

Effing Feline’s favorite things

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Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior / Sunday Snippet posts on Mr. V’s behalf. Click the pic for info.

I, Effing Feline, was listening to Mrs V’s music, and it got me thinking. It was from The Sound of Music, and this is the line that got me thinking.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

these are a few of my favorite things.

The song’s unimportant, but what is important are my favorite things.

salmon
naps
tuna
naps
cat treats
naps
teasing Twiggles the dog

And now, a snippet from Ed’s sci fi romance, Escapee. In the middle of a confrontation between army Captain Hector and supply ship captain Catt, we learn why people tolerate the ugly, lizard-like skoots rather than glorious cats.

“—and in any case, what was I supposed to think when the men were so fervently and furtively looking forward to your arrival, Miss Sayer?”

“That’s Captain Sayer to you, and for your information they looked forward because they liked me and because I smuggled goodies for them.”

For a moment, there was silence except for the gentle creaking of the ship in the wind. Her face remained impassive except for a slight tremor of her lips. He wondered if she wished she hadn’t admitted her guilt. Even he regretted the confession, because it would have to go on his report, if they survived this mission.

The skoot lumbered off the couch and edged toward them, its usual exuberance subdued by distress. People put up with skoots because they sympathized with human moods. It nudged his hand, and when that got no response it nudged Sayer’s knee, as though trying to get the two of them to kiss and make up.

To banish the vivid imagery of kissing Sayer, Hector banished all emotion from his voice. “So, you’re a smuggler: liquor or drugs?”

Effing Feline here again. I remember more of my favorite things: catnip, dead mice, and live birds too crippled to fly. Hey, I’m a cat!

Be sure to visit the other Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday authors.

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Escapee

The African Queen in Outer Space


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Edward Hoornaert’s romantic space opera, Escapee, continues the saga of the Dukelsky family (begun in The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station). If you like The African Queen and the thrill of underdogs finding love while battling a hostile world, you’ll love Escapee.

Amazon US  |  Canada  |  UK  |  Australia
MuseItUp Publishing
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books

 

Show up naked and bring food #mfrwauthor

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Once again, here’s the Marketing for Romance Writers blog hop. For  week 37, the writing prompt is:

Five Ways to Win my Heart

1. They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I’m a man. So . . . bake for me. If you don’t know what to bake, I have a slew of favorite recipes. One of them is included at the end of this post.

[image error]2. Buy my most recent book, Newborn. What the heck — buy all my books. And of course, leave reviews.

3. Some family time is better than other times. If you can arrange one of those close-knit moments full of love and warmth with Judi and me, my four children, and the two grandchildren, you’ve got my heart. Be aware, though, that this is an expensive route to the old ticker, because one of my children is in Tucson, two are in Toronto, and one is in Amsterdam. Frequent flier miles, anyone?

4. Write a book that I want to read and reread. You folks are good at doing that, so I’m talking to the right crowd.

5. I hope you ladies forgive a bit of ‘unadorned’ honesty. Novelist Chris Redding recently gave a talk to the local RWA that tells the real truth about #1 in this list . . . but it’s only for my wife, so don’t get your hopes up. She says to give the ideal romantic date to a guy, show up naked and bring food.

6. (Bonus) Take me to the cemetery where my parents are buried. My heart always rises to the surface there.

What about you?

What the way to your heart?  Chocolate? Flowers? Five-star book reviews? Share with us in a comment and then check out the many romantic writers taking part in this blog hop.

And here’s one of those recipes I mentioned in #1. It’s one of my mother’s originals:

Mom’s Hot Orange Juice Cake

4 egg yolks
1.5 c. sugar
.5 c. boiling orange juice
1.5 c. cake flour
.25 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
1 tbs or so grated orange rind
4 egg whites

Beat the egg white until very stiff; gradually add sugar while beating. Add juice. Mix well and add flour sifted with salt and baking powder. Add half the orange rind. Fold in egg whites. Bake in ungreased tube pan at 325 for 60 minutes.

Icing — 2 cups icing sugar, 2 tablespoon Crisco or margarine, orange juice, and the rest of the orange rind.

 

 

You’re ordering me to strip you? #mfrwHooks

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Welcome to the Marketing for Romance Writers blog hop, Book Hooks. Writers share a short snippet of their works to entice you.

On Sunday I shipped my latest messterpiece off to the editor. To celebrate, here’s a snippet from page two of Rescuing Prince Charming, a science fiction romance that’ll be available late this year, hopefully.

Heroine and hero are searching for a time bomb planted by saboteurs in the guts of a starship, which is under construction with the help of alien Kwadrans.

. . . unexpectedly large equipment had turned a passage into a tunnel just big enough to crawl through. The tunnel led to a closet-sized opening walled with massive wire harnesses. That was where she [i.e. Dusty] would plant a bomb, if she were a saboteur.

She rounded a bank of gauges and saw the tunnel. But a man — or rather, a man’s legs — filled it like a cork in a champagne bottle. Apparently one guard valued duty over death.

Her legs wobbled with relief. “Am I ever glad to see you!”

The tunnel muffled a baritone yelp of surprise. Then: “Take my pants off.”

Dusty blinked. “As pickup lines go, that one’s really horrible.”

“An American female,” the guard groaned. “Spirits save me.”

“A Kwadran male with an attitude problem. God save me.”

“My pants are caught on something and I can’t reach back to remove them. Pull them down, and hurry. That’s an order.”

“You’re ordering me to strip you?”

Be sure to check out the book hooks by other great writers in the Book Hooks blog hop.

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I don’t have a cover or release date (yet), but Rescuing Prince Charming will be the fourth book set in the Alien Contact for Idiots world. Here are the others:

Alien Contact for Idiots  — What’s a woman gonna do when she’s quarantined with an out-of-this world alien?
Alien Contact for Kid Sisters  — Fleeing rebels, the queen’s sister finds a hero to save her … or is he kidnapping her?
Newborn  — She was born to kill … not to love.

Effing Feline is hissed

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Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior / Sunday Snippet posts on Mr. V’s behalf. Click the pic for info.

I, Effing Feline, am hissed. Ed, my pet human, went to Toronto. He brought back candy for Mrs V and for his daughter and grandsons. But for me? Nothing.

Nothing!

Hiss to you, Mr V!

But to show I’m a bigger cat than he is, I’ll present a snippet from his sci fi romance, Escapee. Despite his unfeeling snub. Catt’s airship gets caught in a violent updraft from a volcano — and she enjoys the challenge of flying through it. Hector, meanwhile, still broods over losing his entire command in an attack while he was on leave.

“Yee ha,” screeched the madwoman piloting the airship.

Hector had no idea whether they were about to die by crashing or by burning, but one way or another they were going to die. His body feared death but his mind welcomed it.

The skoot quivered where he held it with one hand to keep it from slipping out from the seatbelt he’d jury-rigged. Strange how the animals felt almost like soldiers under his command. He was responsible for their lives, and he would save them even if — or perhaps because — he’d failed to save his human troopers. If he lived long  enough to save the animals, that is.

He put his mouth near the skoot’s ear and whispered soothing sounds. Enough of this ‘welcoming death’ crap. He had troopers, and they were a reason to live.

Effing Feline here again. Remember, folks, that whenever you travel you absolutely must bring back something for your cat. So promise me you’ll pack a dead mouse in your suitcase when you return, okay?

Be sure to visit the other Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday authors.

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Escapee

The African Queen in Outer Space


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Edward Hoornaert’s romantic space opera, Escapee, continues the saga of the Dukelsky family (begun in The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station). If you like The African Queen and the thrill of underdogs finding love while battling a hostile world, you’ll love Escapee.

Amazon US  |  Canada  |  UK  |  Australia
MuseItUp Publishing
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books

 

Expect no pearls of wisdom #mrfwauthor

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Once again, here’s the Marketing for Romance Writers blog hop. For this week, the writing prompt is:

Managing My Writing Time

Uh . . . shouldn’t you be asking people who know what they’re talking about?  You know, like efficiency experts? Or at least folks with willpower?

(Actually, I have lots of willpower. I used the word ‘willpower’ five times in my current WIP. So there.)

Okay, okay, I’ll get serious. But I warn you, I have no great insights.

I’m lucky, not good

First off, a confession. I’m far luckier than most people, and I know it.  I was able to retire early, and though I’d had six books published in the twenty years I doubled as an author/wage slave, I’ve had nine published in the six years since.

[image error]Thus the only pearl of wisdom I can offer (and it’s pretty iffy) is quit the day job. If you follow my advice and starve to death, I disclaim all responsibility.

I have a lot of writing time to manage, but I try to maintain a reasonable life-work balance, so I don’t always put in 40-50 hours per week . . . even if I put in that much time at my computer. Distractions, you know? For example, while I’m typing this, I also have a baseball game running on MLB.com. (My team’s getting killed.)

So, if I’m serious about working, I turn off the Internet.  Or write at the library, or a nearby coffee shop that’s usually pretty quiet.

I do that . . .  sometimes. If I’m really engrossed in a story, or if I have a deadline, I do it more often.

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Courtesy Cartoon Stock dot com

The wife and I babysit the two grandsons four days a week, and while I love ’em to pieces, they take some time. I do the cooking, dish washing, and most of the grocery shopping. I’m sure it’s not as much as most women, but the household does gobble time.

I have other family members, too — my sister, three sons, and a daughter. And of course a wife.  I say hello to them occasionally.

And then there’s marketing. I try to con myself into thinking marketing is part of writing — but then why does it feel like wasted time? My superego considers the hour I spent today entering four books into upcoming cross promotions as equivalent to watching an hour of Loonie Toons reruns.

Another thing that cuts into my writing time is social media. I try to control it by using social media only (uh, mostly?) for career purposes — like the post you’re reading.

And that sounds like my cue to cut this post short.

What about you?

I’m sure a lot of you are better at BIC (bum in chair) than I am. Please, please, share your secrets! Check out the diligent, hard-working writers taking part in this blog hop.

 

Expect no pearls of wisdom #mrfw

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Once again, here’s the Marketing for Romance Writers blog hop. For this week, the writing prompt is:

Managing My Writing Time

Uh . . . shouldn’t you be asking people who know what they’re talking about?  You know, like efficiency experts? Or at least folks with willpower?

(Actually, I have lots of willpower. I used the word ‘willpower’ five times in my current WIP. So there.)

Okay, okay, I’ll get serious. But I warn you, I have no great insights.

I’m lucky, not good

First off, a confession. I’m far luckier than most people, and I know it.  I was able to retire early, and though I’d had six books published in the twenty years I doubled as an author/wage slave, I’ve had nine published in the six years since.

[image error]Thus the only pearl of wisdom I can offer (and it’s pretty iffy) is quit the day job. If you follow my advice and starve to death, I disclaim all responsibility.

I have a lot of writing time to manage, but I try to maintain a reasonable life-work balance, so I don’t always put in 40-50 hours per week . . . even if I put in that much time at my computer. Distractions, you know? For example, while I’m typing this, I also have a baseball game running on MLB.com. (My team’s getting killed.)

So, if I’m serious about working, I turn off the Internet.  Or write at the library, or a nearby coffee shop that’s usually pretty quiet.

I do that . . .  sometimes. If I’m really engrossed in a story, or if I have a deadline, I do it more often.

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from Cartoon Stock dot com

The wife and I babysit the two grandsons four days a week, and while I love ’em to pieces, they take some time. I do the cooking, dish washing, and most of the grocery shopping. I’m sure it’s not as much as most women, but the household does gobble time.

I have other family members, too — my sister, three sons, and a daughter  And of course a wife.  I try to say hello to them occasionally.

And then there’s marketing. I try to con myself into thinking marketing in part of writing — but then why does it feel like wasted time? My superego considers the hour I spent today entering  books into upcoming cross promotions as equivalent to watching an hour of Loonie Toons reruns.

Another thing that cuts into my writing time is social media. I try to control it by using social media only (uh, mostly?) for career purposes — like the post you’re reading.

And that sounds like my cue to cut this post short.

What about you?

I’m sure a lot of you are better at BIC (bum in chair) than I am. Please, please, share your secrets! Check out the diligent, hard-working writers taking part in this blog hop.

 

Effing Feline mocks Sadie

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Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior / Sunday Snippet posts on Mr. V’s behalf. Click the pic for info.

I, Effing Feline, am bereft. Ed, my pet human, has abandoned me to see his son’s dog, Sadie, in some place called Toronto. I suppose he’s visiting with his sons, too — but it’s the dog that bothers me. I’ve been telling cat jokes, but today I’m switching to jokes that make fun of !&*$*# dogs.

Q. What kind of dog eats with his ears?

A. They all do.  I’ve never seen a dog remove its ears before eating.

Q. How do you stop a dog from barking in the back seat when you’re driving?

A. Invite him to bark in the front seat.

Now for another snippet from Mr V’s sci fi romance, Escapee, featuring the skoot, a small, six-legged reptilian pet, rather than boring humans. We also me Lancelot, the android copilot, discussing the skoot. Lance talks first, followed by  the pilot heroine, Catt Sayer.

“I think he likes you, Catt.”

“Keep him away from me, Lance. Use force if necessary.”

“Is that an order?”

Hesitating, Catt glanced toward the ’fresher door, where Dukelsky had

disappeared. Lance must obey orders, and in some circumstances force would

make matters worse.

“No,” she sighed. “Use your discretion. For now, though, just keep that

plarking skoot away from me.”

Lance tightened his grip on the ugly reptile, which strained to leap onto her lap

and wash her face with its snaky, germ-laden tongue. How could

people keep such horrid-looking creatures as pets?

Effing Feline here again. Catt, I completely agree with your sentiments about skoot — and the same thing can be said of DOGS!

Be sure to visit the other Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday authors.

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Escapee

The African Queen in Outer Space


[image error]

Edward Hoornaert’s romantic space opera, Escapee, continues the saga of the Dukelsky family (begun in The Guardian Angel of Farflung Station). If you like The African Queen and the thrill of underdogs finding love while battling a hostile world, you’ll love Escapee.

Amazon US  |  Canada  |  UK  |  Australia
MuseItUp Publishing
Apple iBooks
Barnes and Noble
Kobo Books

Escapee is a finalist for InDTale magazine’s RONE award. Wish me luck.[image error]

My short story collection Future Love is one of a hundred books on sale for a short time only.  Click the picture below and look under Space Opera.

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SFR Brigade Showcase — terrifying music

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I’m escaping the Arizona heat this week in wonderfully cool Toronto, visiting a couple of my sons and a BIG dog — but I wouldn’t miss the Science Fiction Romance Brigade’s showcase. for anything. Once a month, the brigade’s authors highlight snippets from new works, WIPs, cover reveals or other fun things.

Today I’m highlighting a short selection from my most recent science fiction romance, Newborn, with some great music attached as a bonus.

Have you ever heard music that terrified you? Jo Beaverpaw has. Read on to find out why it frightens her.

According to the clock on the log wall, I’d wasted more than fifteen hours sleeping since my conversation with Darby.

The Kwadran music player Darby had given — no, loaned — me sat near my pillow. With the earphones removed, music filled the room. Haydn, my mind informed me. Why did I know about Papa Haydn when so many important things remained as unknown as the fourth planet of the dimmest star in Orion’s belt?

The mysterious opening of Symphony Thirty-Nine tiptoed through the air like a cat on the hunt. Hesitated. Crept closer, hesitated again. Then pounced.

I somehow knew that even for most music lovers, this symphony remained hidden under the mountain that was Haydn’s hundred-plus symphonies; yet I also knew that the first movement was one of my favorite pieces. The idea of having favorite music comforted me.

But it also terrified me — because I’d never in my life heard this so-called favorite. What was wrong with me?

I’ll bet you’ve never heard this piece, either.

Here’s your chance. The first half minute is the part described in the snippet.

(BTW, as a musician who’s played this symphony, I’m appalled that this conductor is making the musicians stand up for the whole piece. Cruel and inhuman punishment!)

Newborn

She was born to kill. Not love.

[image error]Jo Beaverpaw is born fully grown, well-armed, and impatient to tackle her Destiny … which is to kill her alien nation’s most wanted fugitive. Her life is pre-programmed and straightforward – until she meets the sexy bodyguard of her intended target.

What if Schwarzenegger’s robot assassin in the original Terminator were a bad-assed yet petite female?  Read Newborn to find out.

 

And of course, check out the other great writers taking part in the  Science Fiction Romance Brigade’s showcase.

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Finally, my science fiction short story collection, Future Love, is one-percent of these hundred books on sale for a short time only.  Click the picture below and look under Space Opera.[image error]

 

Despicable me #mfrwauthor

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I’m escaping the Arizona heat this week in wonderfully cool Toronto, visiting a couple of my sons and a BIG dog.  Nonetheless I found time for the Marketing for Romance Writers blog hop. For week 35, the writing prompt is:

My Bad Habits

Several flippant responses leap to mind:

I have none. I’m perfect — just ask my dog.
What is this, a job interview?
Good grief, where do I even start!
How much time do you have?

But this is a blog about writing, so I’ll narrow my focus.

My #1 bad habit related to writing is a lack of willpower. When I face a tight deadline, as I recently did, I can work 10 hours a day for a week-and-a-half straight.

But when I’m not facing a deadline . . . oh my gosh. On those days, the Internet is so darned interesting, you know? And let me check what’s on Netflix, just for a moment, okay? Or sleep. I like that, too.

Poor me.

My #2 bad habit relating to writing is that I never get it right the first time.  I would love to be one of these people who tosses off 5K to 7K brilliant words every day and publishes 10 books a year. In fact, that ability is what I’m going to ask Santa to put in my stocking.

But I’m too incompetent to get the words right the first time.

Poor, poor me.

My #2 bad habit relating to writing is perfectionism. This is, of course, a corollary to #2. A first draft is just a draft, a starting point. I’m so desperate to make every story and every sentence better that I torture myself and writing takes way longer than it should.

Poor, poor, poor me. Don’t you feel sorry for me?

What about you?

Yes, I’m deep into a Pity Party — but you folks can make me feel better. Simply tell me the worst thing about you, the very worst and I promise you, I’ll perk right up.

Share the horrors in a comment, and then check out the faults of the otherwise admirable writers taking part in this blog hop.

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My science fiction short story collection Future Love is one of a hundred books on sale for a short time only.  Click the picture below and look under Space Opera.

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The Aliens Have Landed #mfrwHooks

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Welcome to the Marketing for Romance Writers blog hop, Book Hooks. Writers share a short snippet of their works to entice you.

Here’s the cute-meet from Alien Contact for Idiots, the first book in my science fiction romance series of the same name.

Underfoot lay common dirt and dead grass, overhead a familiar grey sky, yet this was the most exotic — and tense — moment of Ell Harmon’s life.

She knew what to say. She’d rehearsed it in her daydreams. “That’s one small step for a woman,” she yelled, correcting Neil Armstrong’s accidental omission of the indefinite article, a. “One huge leap for mankind.”

“English,” exclaimed an alien.

They knew English? How?

Her gaze zeroed in on the speaker, the tallest man. His shoulders seemed broad enough to carry a world. The wind from the copter’s rotors plastered his clothes against his body, outlining muscular legs and arms. His stomach was flat, his jaw chiseled and powerful. The most impressive thing about him, though, was his face. Determined. Gallant. Intelligent. Strong yet refined. He wasn’t classically handsome, but wearing that masterful expression, he was gorgeous.

What’s a woman gonna do

when she’s quarantined with an out-of-this-world alien?

[image error]After Ell Harmon, a take-charge Seattle biologist, makes first alien contact, she finds herself quarantined with a prince from the future. Is he the man of her dreams? Or a conqueror with unimaginable weapons?

She’s about to find out.

The hard way.

Amazon
Apple iBooks
Barne s and Noble
Kobo Books

Be sure to check out the hooks from other MFRW authors.