Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene's Blog, page 57
July 31, 2020
The Delta Pearl 43 — Dart
July 28, 2020
Wednesday Writing — This Is The Sign You’ve Been Looking For
July 24, 2020
The Delta Pearl 42 — Prance
Book Review from the Pen of Mae Clair: Fiona Finch and the Pink Valentine @teagangeneviene —
July 17, 2020
The Delta Pearl 41 — Swim
July 16, 2020
You READ – but do you leave REVIEWS? – by Chris Graham (aka The Story Reading Ape)
July 14, 2020
Wednesday Writing — Random Ramble
July 10, 2020
The Delta Pearl 40 — Plummet
Saturday, July 11, 2020
[image error]Noel Nichols, Unsplash
Welcome, my chuckaboos. I’m back with another all new episode of my steampunk serial, The Delta Pearl.
As most of you know, this is a re-write of a novel with which I wasn’t satisfied. I include random “things” from readers in most chapters. This time Diana Wallace Peach gave us Jackstaff. Read on to see how I used that kind of flagpole.
Last weekend I posted links to several chapters you might need in order to refresh your memory for events that are about to transpire. Click here for that.
We left Émeraude and her would-be rescuer, Randall Needleman hanging precariously from a net that had captured our heroine. Above them the poisonous brown cloud makes it impossible to breathe. They are near the river, but are they close enough? Even if they were to land in the river — filled with boats large and small, dropping from such a height does not promise a safe landing. Let’s see how they’re doing.
All aboard!
The Delta Pearl
Chapter 40 — Plummet
[image error]Khusen Rustamov at Pixabay
For a brief moment we floated, supported by the parasol on a sudden gust of wind. Randal Needleman and I were high above everything, the buildings, the press of coaches and wagons, and the people along the riverfront. Naturally, everything happened much faster than I can tell about it.
Onyx appeared. His brass talons latched onto my sleeve. His clockwork wings flapped furiously as he tried to pull us toward the scant safety of the river. I prayed for another burst of wind.
The noxious brown cloud descended toward us. Randall began to cough, but he kept his tight hold around my waist. I wished I could give him the breathing apparatus he had strapped around my head before he cut me loose from the net.
In the distance I saw the Delta Pearl. She was going faster than a riverboat could possibly move… but after all, she was the Delta Pearl.
Speeding ahead of the riverboat I saw her naptha launch. The forward part of the launch was covered by a roof-like shell. Obsidian Durango, the Cadet, clung to the top of it. I thought Sid was trying to attach something to the corners of the roof.
I couldn’t see who piloted the small craft, but the person standing at the back was not one of the crew. However, the warning klaxon had sounded. That meant no one would leave the riverboat unless the Captain ordered them. For the Delta Pearl to travel a such a speed, all hands would be needed.
[image error]Cairo Illinois panoramic map, 1885 H Willbe, Wikipedia
The launch accelerated and bumped on the water. Sid lost his hold. The Cadet slid from the little roof but managed to grab the jackstaff. The flag, supported by the wind of speed, slapped his head repeatedly and sharply, threatening to break his hold.
The figure standing at the back of the launch hurried forward to help him. It was a woman in simple clothes. That would be the governess, Azalea Morton. The pilot leaned out from the enclosure ready to help. The clothes were those of a teenaged boy, the supposed charge of the governess.
His hat blew off into the wind. A long tail of hair tumbled free. Alex Rice had just exposed “his” fakery to anyone who might have been watching. Were all eyes on Randall Needleman and me as we plummeted toward the earth? Or was the runaway society wife, Exilda Ritchie now revealed to those who would force her to leave her lover, Azalea, and return to the scheming philandering husband who cheated her of her fortune?
Then it happened ― the end of that fleeting suspended moment. The ribs of the parasol snapped. Its canopy shot up straight, while we plummeted downward. I heard my sleeve rip where the mechanical owl still tried to hold us aloft. His wings worked wildly, but he was headed down with us.
A blast of hot foul-smelling air rushed down onto us. However, it pushed us in the right direction ― toward the river.
Randall’s grip on my waist went slack. He had been overcome by the malachite dust that made the cloud so deadly. I held onto him as tightly as I could. His boast of being a good swimmer would mean nothing if he was unconscious.
The Delta Pearl was so close that I glimpsed the Captain in the pilot house. Abruptly the riverboat turned sideways, effectively blocking the river for any large vessels. As the naptha launch continued ahead of her, a net began to stretch out in to a triangle, the base of which went the length of the huge riverboat. The small point of the triangle was attached to the top of the launch.
Captain Cecil Perlog had cast a wide net in hope of saving us. Would it be enough?
***
[image error]Foggy River Bridge by Dan Antion 2016 (Image altered)
Meanwhile on the riverbank… Naturally I didn’t witness this. We have to take the word of Victor T. Elam and Jet Fischer, the librarian.
Victor, Eliza Needleman, and Jet, whom I already included as a friend, were safely on the ground. They ran as fast as their legs would carry them trying to keep up with the drift of the net that captured me. Eliza was a statuesque woman. Her long legs kept pace with the men despite the encumbrance of her skirts.
No one could see what carried the net. It was hidden behind that noxious brown cloud.
When they reached the river’s edge, Jet led them to a pier used by small boats and fishermen. They ran to the edge of the wooden structure.
Randall Needleman’s hold on the net, as he cut me free was clearly precarious. Considering the location of the net, none of them could be sure whether we would have a lethal drop to the hard ground, or a still dubious landing in the river.
Then Randall made a big enough hole in the net to pull me partly out of it. They could see that I wore the breathing apparatus. Eliza gave a relieved sigh. Her relief immediately became a gasp of a new worry ― for her husband.
“Oh, Randall! The poison air,” she murmured as she remembered the debilitating effect that brown cloud previously had on the Captain.
“Émeraude is hurt!” Victor cried when he saw how I held my arm.
“It’s too dangerous for them to jump!” Jet exclaimed. “Yet if they don’t jump, the malachite dust in that cloud may well kill them. I only had the one mask,” he added in dismay.
Jet’s knee-length coat was open and awry from running. Eliza looked at him sharply, seeing that he carried a weapon at his side.
“What’s that jeweled bauble you have there?” she asked the librarian.
“What?” Jet began, surprised to hear that sort of question at such a dire moment. “It’s my grandfather’s dagger. Some of the streets between the library and my home aren’t quite safe at night,” he added.
“He’s going to let go!” Victor yelled as Randall pulled me the rest of the way out of the net.
Eliza gave a muffled cry. Then she grabbed Jet’s coat. Pushing him away, she took his dagger. Eliza turned the knife toward her own chest and slashed.
***
End Chapter 40
***
Real Steampunkery Tech
[image error]An Escher Wyss type of naptha launch 1888 Wikipedia
Naptha Launch. Have you ever imagined a river with Victorians out having a good time? Would there be miniature paddlewheel boats? As whimsical as that image is, it is not entirely wrong. During the “steam era” small steamboats became popular for personal recreational use. However, the little steamers also got a reputation for dangerous explosions. So, the Coast Guard required operators to be licensed or have a certified engineer onboard. That made it impossible for most people to legally use them.
A couple of alternatives were developed. One such is the “naptha launch.” Compared to steam, the naphtha-powered engine provided a launch with lightweight, efficient power that required no license to operate.
Naphtha is a clear liquid hydrocarbon that is produced during the fractional distillation of crude petroleum oil or coal tar. Naphtha distills off between gasoline and kerosene. Today naphtha is reportedly sold in hardware stores as a wiping solvent and paint reducer.
You can learn more from this Wikipedia article.
***
Damfino how this happened, but we’re still falling. And now, what is Eliza doing, turning that dagger on herself? She and Randall seem quite devoted to one another. Is the prospect of life without him impossible for our suffragette to face?
I love hearing from you — and hope you will leave a comment. Everyone is welcome to leave a random “steam era” appropriate thing. Be well, be happy, my chuckaboos.
This serial is made possible in spite of (not because of) the deplorable lack of Internet service from TDS Telecom. They are even worse than the government about claiming no problem exists in the face of failure. TDS Telecom meets every complaint and service call by saying they find no problem. Their technicians come to my home and refuse to do any work or replace equipment, even when their offsite managers have instructed them to do so. They brought equipment that they openly state does not work properly. My letters, emails, and tweets go unanswered. Dear readers, please do not comment here in response to this paragraph. Just be aware of my awful experience with this so called provider.
T his is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 and 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
July 7, 2020
Wednesday Review — Brother Love
Wednesday, July 8, 2020
First, I apologize to anyone who received my accidental posts. The scheduling option I typically use wasn’t working properly. Actually it disappeared entirely…
[image error]Altered composite of images from Pixabay by Teagan R Geneviene
Welcome to my sanctuary. Last Wednesday’s post went to the cats. This one is for the birds! Or one bird anyhow. I’m talking about Jinx, my magpie character. He’s so excited that I had to tell about a lovely review author D. L. (Denise) Finn did in her July Book Reviews for my novelette, Brother Love – a Crossroad. Click over to visit Denise and learn about the other wonderful books she read.
Maybe it’s just the hot weather here… After all, Brother Love does begin on a hot summer night, but feature characters, Birdie Devovo and Jinx have been on my mind a lot lately, asking for another story. It’s so hard not to drop whatever I’m doing every time a new story idea pops into my head… but their next adventure will have to wait. Since they’re letting me feel guilty, I’m sharing about Denise’s review, and reminiscing about fictional Parliament, Mississippi.
On that hot August night, Doug Armstrong stopped at Birdie Devovo’s house at the crossroads moments after the lights went out. He said he saw someone moving around on the porch. Birdie certainly thought someone was inside. Yet, was it odd that Doug should be there at that specific moment? Was it random chance? Or did it happen by design? If so, then whose design?
[image error]Collage by Teagan featuring two of Dan’s photos
Those of you who followed the blog serial of this story know that Dan Antion provided photos to inspire me and illustrate the serial version. Dan also took on the challenge of finding a house that could have been the one I described for Birdie. Triple that effort since he was in Connecticut and the story was in Mississippi. Dan dedicated one of his Thursday Doors features to that.
If you haven’t read Brother Love – a Crossroad here are links:
Kindle relinks.me/B07V25SXFR
Paperback relinks.me/107952309X
Thanks for visiting with me. But now I need to stop reminiscing and procrastinating, and get my head to the fictional Nevada town of my current novel in progress… It’s hot there too. Haha! Leave a comment to say hello. Hugs on the wing!
This post is made possible in spite of (not because of) the deplorable lack of Internet service from TDS Telecom. They are even worse than the government about claiming no problem exists in the face of failure. Every I make a complaint or request a service call, TDS Telecom tells me they find no problem. Their technicians come to my home and refuse to do any work or replace equipment, even when their offsite managers have instructed them to do so. They brought equipment that they openly state does not work properly. My letters, emails, and tweets go unanswered. Dear readers, please do not comment here in response to this paragraph, keep your comments to the post. Just be aware of my awful experience with this so called provider.
T his is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019— and 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
July 3, 2020
The Delta Pearl — Refresh
Saturday, July 4, 2020
[image error]Composite of altered free images Unsplash & Wikipedia by Teagan R. Geneviene
Happy Independence Day to all my chuckaboos in the USA! Welcome back to the riverbank, everyone. In one way it’s hard to believe The Delta Pearl first left the docks on July 27, 2019 for this serialized rewrite of my novel. On the other hand, I feel it’s been part of my life forever.
Reader visits are usually markedly down during this weekend of the year. Plus, considering how many new “passengers” (that’d be you, my chuckaboos) have gotten aboard, along with where we are in the story… it’s time for a refresher before we get back on the river. I’m pointing you to some of the past episodes that play an important part in the new episode that I will post next weekend.
Here goes. All aboard!
[image error]Delta Pearl Composite of Pixaby images by Teagan R. Geneviene
We met Émeraude when she was a child, just before she became part of the Delta Pearl’s crew. Back then she was Emerald Perlezenn.
The first time I saw the Delta Pearl, I was eight years old. I wondered if the legends were true, because my grandfather died three days before. I asked Moma if Peepaw had seen the riverboat. Maybe seeing it had “marked him” like folks said. I didn’t see what was wrong with the question, but apparently something was. It made her so angry she threatened to give me an anointing.
Émeraude’s life was terrible before the Delta Pearl. After the prologue, the story picked up shortly before her sixteenth birthday.
Of course, I wanted an answer to my unspoken question ― just as I wanted to know his age and origins. However, the question to which I most wanted an answer about the Dealer was not the number of his years. What I wanted to know was whether or not he was in fact a man at all.
We greeted all the passengers, including Dr. Victor Elam, Randall and Eliza Needleman, and Benjamin Dundas. You’ve seen all of them recently.
The Harveys (who have thankfully been kicked off the riverboat) were also among the passengers. There was also a pair you may have forgotten — a young governess and her charge. You might want to remind yourself about them. There’s also a bit about the mysterious portrait in this chapter.
Then, of course, the events of Émeraude’s ill fated sixteenth birthday are directly related to next week’s chapter.
Summertime is busy, even during the “locked down” year of 2020. So, I’ll leave the most recent new chapter below, for anyone who may have missed it. Here’s a link to the one before that as well, Chapter 38 — Tangle.
All aboard!
The Delta Pearl
Chapter 39 — Rise
[image error]Pixabay image altered by Teagan R Geneviene
Shouting voices rose up from beneath me. I’m not sure if it was the voices that woke me or the pain in my shoulder and head. The world around me shifted and drew close.
Stars danced before my eyes. My ears rang like a ship’s bell. Although my head hurt, it was not as bad as my shoulder. I cried out when I moved it.
As my vision cleared, I looked upward ― it felt like I was rising. Light glinted dully from a gray metal ball. It drooped from a cord, to which it was attached. Several of them dangled above me.
“That’s what hit me,” I muttered as consciousness returned. “Lead weights. It’s a net! But where did it come from?” I exclaimed.
The weight that knocked me on the head must have been a glancing blow, else I would have been unconscious longer. I didn’t think I had been out more than a moment. I moved my shoulder gingerly. I dreaded to see the bruise that would soon be there.
Shouts intruded on my dazed thoughts. I looked down toward the voices. Regardless of how I came to be in the predicament, I was scooped inside a net. It was being drawn up to who knew where or what.
Already I was higher than Victor T. Elam could reach. I saw him on the ground, jumping, trying to grab hold of the net. It was mere inches beyond his grasp.
Jet Fischer stepped out of the library, summoned by the commotion. Shock painted his expression when he looked up toward me. His gaze seemed to travel up beyond me. From his different vantage point, I wondered if he saw something the others could not see.
The librarian ran back inside. A moment later he emerged carrying an odd shape by a strap. He hurried to the edge of the stairs, but he was farther away than anyone.
A bright flash hit my eyes, a reflection. Amid the chaos, I thought I glimpsed a pair of brass wings. However, the bright spot flew back toward the docks.
Onyx? I wondered, but the clockwork owl never traveled far from the Delta Pearl.
As suddenly as the bright wings appeared, the owl darted away. I heard the high-low-high emergency klaxon from the Delta Pearl, and knew that drew him. Any crew within hearing of that horn were to return to the riverboat immediately. My heart lurched. Not only was I trapped, but there was trouble aboard my home!
Then something tugged at my knotted mesh prison. I saw the handle of Eliza’s parasol hooked through the net. Unfortunately, the net still rose. In seconds Eliza dangled above the ground.
Victor wrapped his arms around Eliza’s legs, in effort to keep both of us from being pulled away. That caused my prison to lurch wildly.
[image error]Foggy River Bridge by Dan Antion 2016 (tomfoolery by Teagan R. Geneviene)
Randall Needleman had been on the curb, beside the Clarence carriage, ready to help his wife climb into it. If I had been captured a minute later, he and Eliza would both have been inside the coach. As it was, Randall was a step away from the horses when he saw the young inventor and his wife, both struggling to prevent the net from pulling me up into the sooty cloud.
Jet gave a shrill whistle as he waved the odd shape he carried. Randall turned toward the librarian. Jet pointed up at the brown cloud and then jiggled the thing he held. Randall nodded his understanding. Jet swung the object by its strap and then threw it hard. The roundish shape hurtled toward Needleman, who caught it with one hand. To my astonishment, he strapped it over his face.
A breathing apparatus? I remembered fireman who was a passenger, years before. He saved the life of a wealthy man who gifted him passage on the riverboat. The fireman told us that fire departments were using “Neally’s Smoke Excluding Mask.” He described how the mask had a small bag of water that was suspended by a neck strap. Connected to the water bag were two sponge filters that were kept wet when the bag was squeezed. Air was drawn through the filters to the mouthpiece in the face mask.
For an instant I wondered what they could be thinking. Then I realized that I squinted to see through the haze. The air around me was had gotten smutty. I coughed.
Acting quickly, Randall hopped onto the back of one of the horses. Standing there gave him enough height that he was able to launch himself from the horse and grab hold of the net.
“Let go, Eliza! It’s getting too high,” he called down to his wife.
I heard Eliza groan out the word “No!” as she fought to keep her grip on the parasol. However, with Victor’s weight pulling her down she was not able to hold onto it.
Yes, Eliza was several feet into the air. Although Victor, whose arms were around her knees, was not at a dangerous distance above the ground. When Eliza lost her hold, they both tumbled to the earth, unharmed.
Or that is, with the exception of Eliza’s broad feathered chapeau. It was dislodged when Victor grabbed onto her legs. The lovely hat floated safely to the ground just a moment before Victor and Eliza tumbled earthward. Victor landed squarely on the hat, and Eliza landed on him.
I coughed incessantly as I was drawn up closer to the noxious brown cloud. I remembered how sick the Captain had been after he went into such a cloud when it descended on the riverboat during my sweet sixteen party.
I choked off a scream when a monstrous face with two big eyes and a long snout popped up beside me. Then it laughed and I knew the voice. It was a gas mask.
“Lean back, Émeraude. Make sure I don’t nick you,” Randall instructed as he clutched the net with one hand.
He held a long switchblade in his other hand. The knife gleamed sharply. Randall began to slice the tough fibers of the mesh.
As Randal worked the blade to cut the net, I heard a clicking sound just above me.
“The scarab!” I whispered as the clockwork beetle scrabbled down the netting toward me.
The green scarab stopped to hide several inches above my head. It dropped a small papyrus scroll, which landed in the ruffles of my neckline. I tucked the scroll farther inside my gown so I wouldn’t lose it, just as Randall pushed his torso inside the net.
Randall saw that I held my shoulder protectively. He nodded as if he understood it was injured. He removed the freakish looking mask and put it over my face, quickly tightening the strap.
“Put your good arm around my neck,” he told me and then he put an arm around my waste.
Randall pressed a button, which retracted the knife. He quickly put it inside his waistcoat. He reached outside the net to retrieve the parasol.
“Don’t look down,” he warned.
[image error]Dan Antion’s River confluence photo, tomfoolery by Teagan R. Geneviene
Of course, that’s precisely what I did. I gasped seeing how high above the ground we were. We had also drifted out beside the river. There was no guarantee we would land in the water. From my vantagepoint, I thought we were almost as likely to plummet to the hard earth. Falling from such a height, even if we did hit the river, that would not be a gentle landing by any means.
“You’re as bad as my dear wife,” he said with a chuckle. “Didn’t I tell you not to look? Don’t worry. I’m a good swimmer,” he added, but his claim was small comfort.
An instant later Randall pulled me free of the net. Far below, I could see the shapes of people running in our direction.
Then we both fell.
***
End Chapter 39
***
Whether or not it is a holiday for you, I hope you have a wonderful weekend. Everyone is welcome to leave a random “steam era” appropriate thing. Be well, be happy, my chuckaboos.
This serial is made possible in spite of (not because of) the deplorable lack of Internet service from TDS Telecom. They are even worse than the government about claiming no problem exists in the face of failure. TDS Telecom meets every complaint and service call by saying they find no problem. Their technicians come to my home and refuse to do any work or replace equipment, even when their offsite managers have instructed them to do so. They brought equipment that they openly state does not work properly. My letters, emails, and tweets go unanswered. Dear readers, please do not comment here in response to this paragraph. Just be aware of my awful experience with this so called provider.
T his is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 and 2020 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
All rights reserved.
No part of this work may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
All images are either the property of the author or provided by free sources, unless stated otherwise.
