Edward Hoornaert's Blog, page 81
June 20, 2015
Effing Feline’s HEA
Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior posts on Mr. V’s behalf
I, Effing Feline, wish to congratulate Ed Hoornaert, aka Mr. Valentine, on his special day. Some folks think it’s unusual for a man to write romance, but he told me his secret last night as he rubbed my chin. He married his high school sweetheart, several cat-lifetimes ago … and he’s still married to her! As he switched to scratching behind my ears, Mr. V said this is what’s called an “HEA” in the writing trade, short for “Happily Ever After.”
And today’s his wedding anniversary. So no sarcasm from me today. Nor furballs (if I can help it). Just this snippet from Mr. V’s newest release, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters.
Last week we saw our conman antagonist, Quinn Lebatarde, get bested by a little girl wearing Hello Kitty pj’s. Today’s scene shows that Quinn does indeed have a hero buried somewhere deep inside. He, Marianne, and Elfy are trapped in an underground city, and murderous gendarme rebels have just caught up to them.
The air filled with bangs and hisses and flares of light stronger than the lightning and with the incongruous smell of frying bacon from Quinn’s Kwadran needler. Marianne peeked out to glimpse the rogue gendarmes retreating from the dense shower of needles.
And Quinn—her heart nearly stopped—was running across the square, open to enemy fire. At least he had the sense not to act like a B-movie hero who stood tall, knowing bad guys never hit anything. He crouched low, ducked as much as possible, and fired almost without aiming. Marianne’s heart leaped in relief and something stronger. Breath failed her, making her dizzy with apprehension.
Elfy stood frozen in wide-eyed terror. With one arm, Quinn scooped her up without stopping, and he kept firing, too.
Effing Feline here again. If it were up to me, I would’ve left the girl out in the open. Don’t blame me, though. I can’t fire a pistol–no opposable thumbs.
Check out the other great snippets from the Weekend Writing Warriors. Maybe some of them are having anniversaries, too … or even better, gun battles!
And subscribe to Mr. V’s very occasional newsletter for information on Effing Feline and new releases.
June 13, 2015
Effing Feline Begs You Please
Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior posts on Mr. V’s behalf
I, Effing Feline, am on my very best behavior today, because I’m still humiliated by having a stupid, wagging, slobbering, overeager dog fill in for me last week. ‘Humble’ is hard for a cat, so bear lion with me.
Ahem.
I humbly beg you, dearest gentle readers, to peruse this selection from Mr. Valentine’s newest release, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, and then visit all the other outstanding writers who share snippets on Eight (to Ten) Sentence Sunday. Please please please!
Background: Marianne, the queen’s kid sister, is in a tunnel with a fake Royal Guardian named Quinn who is either protecting or kidnapping her — he hasn’t decided which. Here we meet the third member of the troop that will romp through the deserted underground cities: Lady Delphina Eaglesbrood, aka Elfy.
A travel poster for the underground cities of Kwadra Island
Quinn pounced around the corner while the pouncing was good. Just like a real hero, he grabbed the intruder around the chest, trapping his arms, and put the knife to his throat.
Uh, no. Not his throat: her throat.
It was a girl, maybe ten or eleven, with straight, black Kwadran hair that smelled of shampoo. He hoped Marianne couldn’t see him holding a knife on a little kid wearing pajamas and a robe with Hello Kitty appliqués.
He released her and opened his mouth to ask if he’d hurt her — but she kicked backward and whacked his shin with the heel of her sturdy shoes. Yipping in outraged pain, Quinn dropped the knife and hopped backward on one foot.
He didn’t see her next kick, aimed at his crotch, until it was too late.
Effing Feline again. Purrty please with a hairball on top — check out the other great snippets from the Weekend Writing Warriors!
And subscribe to Mr. V’s very occasional newsletter for information on Effing Feline and new releases.
June 12, 2015
The Easy Way to Lower your Blood Pressure
Eons ago, back when I was thirteen, I visited a record store with some friends from high school. There was never much music in our house, and if I listened to anything, it was rock and roll.
Nonetheless, in a pretentious, fateful move, I bought Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony for no better reason than his ancestors were from Belgium, as mine were. (And, being too young to realize Beethoven didn’t impress teenagers, to show off to my friends.)
Where a musician hangs his hat. I’ve was given this bust of Beethoven for my 14th birthday. My sister embroidered the picture of woodwinds.
When I got home, I fell in love with the symphony–and symphony orchestras in general–and the rest is (personal) history. For over thirty years, I’ve been the principal oboist of one orchestra or another in the US or Canada. Thank you, Ludwig Van B!
But here’s something I didn’t know about classical music:
Doctors could prescribe music to beat heart disease, after research found recordings by Verdi, Beethoven and Puccini can lower the blood pressure.
A study by Oxford University suggests that compositions which match the rhythm of the body could be used to control the heart.
Research presented to the the British Cardiovascular Society (BCS) conference in Manchester found that listening to music with a repeated 10-second rhythm coincided with a fall in blood pressure, reducing the heart rate.
Here’s the rest of the article.
And here, just because I want all my readers to have low blood pressure, here is the movement from Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony researchers used in their study. Enjoy it–and calm yourself down!
Now that you’re all calm and your blood pressure’s low, here’s a blatant commercial:
June 5, 2015
Effing Feline Gets Replaced … by a DOG!
Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior posts on Mr. V’s behalf
Forget the stupid cat–he has a tummy ache from eating too much catfood. Filling in for him is me, Twiggles, Edward Hoornaert’s dog! Isn’t that great! But this isn’t about me — after all, I’m not a cat, though I sure do hope you like me! — but about a bunch of really brilliant writers in the Weekend Writing Warriors group who share snippets of their work. Wonderful human beings, all of them!
Today’s snippet continues with Mr V’s recently released Alien Contact for Kid Sisters. Marianne, the queen’s kid sister, got put in a tunnel for safekeeping after a bombing by rebels, with orders to obey Captain Charleyjohn, her bodyguard. However, a fun-loving con man is wearing Charleyjohn’s uniform. Here’s his first interaction with her:
Marianne had done TV interviews about Kwadra; she’d filmed dozens of commercials for Kwadran hair-care products; her affair with Prince Reese had been trumpeted by all the tabloids — but did anyone remember her? No, she was always Ell’s kid sister.
“Wow,” Charleyjohn said, “I never thought I’d meet Harmon’s sister.”
Against her will, Marianne smiled. No matter how tired she was of being overshadowed, no one had ever had a more famous—or better—big sister. In addition to making first alien contact, Ell had filmed a TV show with King Tro during their three weeks of quarantine, and Alien Contact for Idiots, as Ell had sarcastically named it, averted war by showing the world that the alien invaders were civilized humans worthy of a good woman’s love.
“Hey, you know my first name?” he asked
Wondering if Captain Charleyjohn was crazy, Marianne blinked. “Well, gee, let me guess … Rumpelstiltskin?”
Can anyone figure out why the con man asks about the first name?
Be sure to check out the other great snippets on Weekend Writing Warriors.
PS — Wanna know what I look like? Do ya? Huh, huh? Here I am staring lovingly at Mr. V’s grandson, Wesley. He’s a wonderful human being!
May 30, 2015
Effing Feline Releases his Purrs
Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior posts on Mr. V’s behalf
Purr, purr, purr. I, Effing Feline, feel fat and happy. And sleepy, of course–I am, after all, a cat. Right after today’s snippet, I’ll tell you why I’m so full and contented.
Last week, if you remember, Marianne, the queen’s kid sister, got put in a tunnel for safekeeping after a bombing by rebels. Her would-be fiance’s last words were, “A Royal Guardian is stationed down there to protect you, so obey Captain Charleyjohn.”
Obey Captain Charleyjohn? Dumb move, you stupid human!
Feeling smug because the police hadn’t followed him into the tunnel, Quinn Lebatarde strutted along … until he found Captain Charleyjohn unmoving on the floor. The Royal Guardian’s nametag was stitched to the breast of his lime-green uniform jacket.
Broken rocks littered the tunnel around the corpse, and that set Quinn’s heart pounding. After a worried upward glance, he bent to feel the man’s neck. No pulse. From the bloody mess atop Charleyjohn’s head, he’d died fast.
Quinn dragged the body to a safer place. If the tunnel was going to collapse on him, he’d rather die as a Royal Guardian, so he stripped the captain and put on the uniform. Panting—the man was literally a dead weight — Quinn looked down at the corpse.
“Thanks for the uniform, man — best set of weaves I ever wore — and all these weapons, too.” Feeling invincible, Quinn strapped Charleyjohn’s needle gun to his belt and swaggered down the tunnel, whistling.
Obey Captain Charleyjohn? Quinn is a fun-loving con man. Methinks poor Marianne is in trouble.
But enough unimportant stuff. Why am I purring, your ask? I got a double helping of cat food, because Mr. V, aka Edward Hoornaert, releases Alien Contact for Kid Sisters today. (Burp.) It’s a great science fiction romance (burp) with a wildly lovable scam-artist hero, mysterious underground cities, humor, sex, mistaken (burp) identities, loving sisters, gun battles, an alien needle-gun that can out-shoot a platoon … but no cats.
End of commercial, folks. It’s nappy time. Burp.
Be sure to check out the other great snippets on Weekend Writing Warriors.
Subscribe to Mr. V’s very occasional newsletter for information on Effing Feline and new releases.
May 28, 2015
Creep through the creepy underworld? Not me!
One of the joys of science fiction is visiting extraordinary places … which is probably why Jules Verne called his series of 54 groundbreaking SF adventures Voyages Extraordinaires. (I sure hope I don’t need to translate that for you!)
In the past, I’ve invited readers to visit my worlds, complete with travel posters. With a new book coming out soon, Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, it’s time for another poster. And so, without further ado …
Fleeing murderous rebels, the queen’s American sister finds a hero to lead her through Kwadra’s labyrinthine underground … or is he kidnapping her, instead?
Read more about Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, book 2 in the Alien Contact for Idiots series
Read chapter one of Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
Pre-order Alien Contact for Kid Sisters
May 26, 2015
Home, Home on the —
Today, another clip from the Sirocco Woodwind Quintet’s album honoring the commissioning of the USS Tucson. It’s another well-known tune, Home on the Range.
During one of the oboe solos, I burped, which made my intonation wobble, and since we were on a tight budget and that take was otherwise the best of the lot, we used it regardless–but every time I listen to this piece, all I focus on is the burp. Can you hear it?
May 25, 2015
Mr V plays music for Memorial Day
As regular readers of Mr. Valentine‘s blog will know, I’m not just a writer, I also play the oboe. A few years ago … nearly 20, actually–how time flies … I recorded a concert with the Sirocco Woodwind Quintet, based in Tucson. The occasion was the commissioning of a new submarine, the USS Tucson.
Appropriately enough, the son of the quintet’s bassoonist was the Tucson’s executive officer, and the quintet was to perform a concert as part of the commissioning ceremonies. Alas, Hurricane Felix scuttled the commissioning ceremony — but the quintet recorded the concert that never was.
I’m just to the right of the saguaro, holding an oboe.
Some of the music is appropriate for Memorial Day, so here are two selections from a doomed concert. First the Star Spangled Banner, and then Washington Post March.
May 23, 2015
Effing Feline’s Thoughts on Labor Management
I, Effing Feline, solved last week’s problem in a very satisfying way. If you recall, the bird who was my typist/editor was on strike for more birdseed. I’ll tell you how I did it in a minute.
Last week, we left Marianne, the heroine of Mr. V’s very soon-to-be-released Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, sprawled on a hotel room floor–a marriage proposal from Prince Reese having been rudely interrupted by a terrorist bomb blast. Here the prince deposits Marianne in an old tunnel under the hotel for safekeeping.
As Marianne looked at the murky ladder, a shiver quivered through her. She was neither claustrophobic nor afraid of the dark, but this hole looked like a sewer. She sniffed–didn’t smell like one, luckily.
Reese was right, though—she was in the way and by arguing, she was causing trouble. “Okay, I’ll go,” she whispered.
“Good woman,” he said in English as he slipped his jacket onto her. It came to her knees and the arms swallowed her hands, making her feel like a kid playing dress-up—a little kid who couldn’t do anything to help.
“A Royal Guardian is stationed down there to protect you,” Reese said, “so obey Captain Charleyjohn!”
Don’t worry, folks, about the heroine seeming to be a shrinking violet. By the end of the book, Marianne is a kick-ass female, NOT insecure and helpless. If you liked Romancing the Stone, you’ll love Alien Contact for Kid Sisters.
Speaking of insecure and helpless … heh, heh … how, you ask, did I, Effing Feline, solve my labor dispute? By plucking a tail feather and threatening to eat the bird, of course. Now he works for even less!
Be sure to check out the other posts on Eight Sentence Sunday.
Effing Feline 5/24/15
I, Effing Feline, solved last week’s problem in a very satisfying way. If you recall, the bird who was my typist/editor was on strike for more birdseed. I’ll tell you how I did it in a minute.
Last week, we left Marianne, the heroine of Mr. V’s very soon-to-be-released Alien Contact for Kid Sisters, sprawled on a hotel room floor–a marriage proposal from Prince Reese having been rudely interrupted by a terrorist bomb blast. Here the prince deposits Marianne in an old tunnel under the hotel for safekeeping.
As Marianne looked at the murky ladder, a shiver quivered through her. She was neither claustrophobic nor afraid of the dark, but this hole looked like a sewer. She sniffed–didn’t smell like one, luckily.
Reese was right, though—she was in the way and by arguing, she was causing trouble. “Okay, I’ll go,” she whispered.
“Good woman,” he said in English as he slipped his jacket onto her. It came to her knees and the arms swallowed her hands, making her feel like a kid playing dress-up—a little kid who couldn’t do anything to help.
“A Royal Guardian is stationed down there to protect you,” Reese said, “so obey Captain Charleyjohn!”
Don’t worry, folks, about the heroine seeming to be a shrinking violet. By the end of the book, Marianne is a kick-ass female, NOT insecure and helpless. If you liked Romancing the Stone, you’ll love Alien Contact for Kid Sisters.
Speaking of insecure and helpless … heh, heh … how, you ask, did I, Effing Feline, solve my labor dispute? By plucking a tail feather and threatening to eat the bird, of course. Now he works for even less!
Be sure to check out the other posts on Eight Sentence Sunday.
