Natalina Reis's Blog, page 11
May 5, 2023
Writing Is Hard
Writing is hard!
Now read that in a whining voice and you know exactly how I sound like right now.
But all kidding aside, writing is hard.
There’s the actual writing of the story (which really is normally the fun part), the never-ending edits, the search for reliable beta readers, marketing, promotions, in-person appearances, newsletters, querying (if you have gone that way), formatting, finding cover art, actually publishing the book… phew, I’m tired just writing this.
But the hardest part by far is finding the right audience. I’ve been published for eight years, I have twenty-one books out and I’m still looking for my readers.
I’ve been a reader my whole life and I always read across genres. Even as a child I read (or was read to) Grimms’ Fairytales, picture books, graphic novels, mysteries, and adventures. Later I added the classics, romance, and sci-fi to my pile of choice reads. That love for a diverse collection of literature translated into the stories I now read and write.
I love stories that defy the norm, that toe the line–or just plain cross it–between genres. My ideal story in often in the young adult realm where the mixing of genres seems much more accepted, even welcome. Some of my favorite young adult series mix fantasy with mystery, romance, adventure, humor, and even bits of horror sometimes. When I read adult fiction I sometimes miss that “union” of genres. So when I write my own stories I tend to follow my bliss, I guess.
That means I am forever searching for my audience. The most common complaints about my stories are that they feel young adultish, that there’s not enough romance or too much of it, that there’s not enough mystery or a bit too much. Not enough or too much of *insert whatever you feel like here*.
The romance reader complains about not enough heat. The fantasy reader complains about too much romance. I get accused of using too much vernacular mixed with more formal language. Some readers complain they get confused with the foreign names in the story.
You see my plight. There’s no happy place for any writer who like me writes a blended kind of fiction. Which brings me back to where I started: writing is so hard!
What do you read? Are you open to the mixing and blending of genres?
April 29, 2023
When hate comes knocking…
**Apologies for the long rant**
Yesterday was the release date for my 21st book, Foxy Tails. I worked extra hard to make this release a successful one since most of my other twenty had been mostly flops. Most of you know I am a teacher, a job that sucks every ounce of energy (physical and mental) out of me. This year has been even harder than before, and I get home with a mile-long list of things to do for my writing business and my personal life, but as soon as my butt hits the couch, my eyes become unbearably heavy and my brain shuts down.
But I pushed through this comatose state to plan, make contacts with bloggers and readers, and organize many events online to bring my new book to potential readers. Many ARCs were given out in hopes of reviews on release day. I spent hours coming up with ad-copy, graphics, research, you name it. I even did something I saw another writer do a few times that I had never had the nerve to do. I placed bookmarks inside some of similar books at the local Barnes and Noble store.
I was exhausted but excited and proud of myself for going all out even at the cost of my own health (no time for healthy meals or yoga) and my finances since some of the marketing/promotion was paid. My wonderful publisher also provided all her support and resources to make this release a success. Not to mention, of course, how long, how carefully written and researched it was, how many edits, beta readers, sensitivity readers it took to bring this book into publication. But that’s for another blog.
A few days before the release, an ARC reader left my book an awful review. For those who don’t know what an ARC reader is, it is someone who, in exchange for a free book, volunteers to review it before publication. While there are no expectations that the reader will like the book and leave a raving review, it is expected the reader be at least civil with her/his words.
This reader found every fault possible in the book, including “a dire need for editing” even though she never once mentions typos or grammatical errors. Instead she blames “bad editing” for the fact I chose the name Ling Ling for the female character.
According to her, Ling Ling is a derogatory term used for an Asian female and that used by a white author (which by her own admission she assumed I was) is unacceptable. Except I did consult Asian-Americans about the manuscript and the response was unanimous: that there’s nothing offensive in the story. I would NEVER use a derogatory (racial or otherwise) term in my books. I have way too much respect for our human diversity to do that. But apparently, the name is used by a few idiots (mostly male) in a derogatory way, which earned it a place in the Urban Dictionary. That said, it is just a name, and a beautiful one at that. Does the fact that some culturally ignorant and hateful people use it in a degrading way make the name any less lovely?
My own name was used constantly as a not-so-nice term to make fun of me, growing up in Portugal. Does that make my name inherently nasty and offensive?
Ling Ling is a great character. She’s strong, beautiful, smart, independent, and loyal. Why would I pick a derogatory term to name a character that I so obviously love? But her accusation didn’t fall on deaf ears. I was crushed and immediately began doubting myself. Had I unwittingly used a racial slur in my book? I rushed to ask a few Chinese-American individuals about it again. The answer was the same as before: no, nothing nasty about the name. Many women carry that lovely musical name. To give you just two examples, violinist and author Ling Ling Huang and actress and fortune-teller Mak Ling Ling.
If that wasn’t bad enough I have received a few more reviews (mostly complimentary) from readers who have read the hateful review and are now afraid that I used an offensive name for the female character, throwing another shadow over my book and my integrity as a writer and human being.
Needless to say that this whole matter totally overshadowed my release on my side of things. Hate has a tendency to do that. I was too upset and worried to enjoy the official “birth” of a book I so love and that I worked so hard to write.
The same reader also complained about the use of many names for the main characters (there is a cultural/historical reason for that) and my awkward writing. She also blames me of “telling” instead of “showing”. But that’s also a subject for another blog (I know, you can’t wait.)
I am not complaining about bad reviews. I totally understand not liking a book. I have read well-liked books that I didn’t connect with. I was honest in my review, but not mean or outright hateful like some. I also understand that my style of writing is not for everyone. That’s not a problem. But hateful rhetoric is a huge problem that seems to have become more and more prevalent in today’s society.
Words are powerful weapons and should be used carefully.
And hate, in any form, is never a good thing.
If you are of Asian ancestry, I truly want to hear your thoughts about the use of the name Ling Ling for a book character. Is it really as offensive as this reader (who I am sure is NOT Asian herself–I could be wrong) says it is? Have I made a terrible mistake when naming my character? Please, let me know. Thank you.
April 27, 2023
The Lucky Starman-New Release
Is Leif really lucky? Stranded in orbit, viewing a destroyed civilization on Earth through the screens of a starship almost out of fuel and food, he doesn’t feel that way.
It wasn’t supposed to be like that.
As the starship Dauntless returns from a successful mission to the planet called Heaven, Earth holds no attractions for Exoplanetary Scout Leif Grettison. He wants only to complete the mission and leave for another star, along with ace pilot Yang Yong. In fact, he would be happy spending the rest of his life flying the starways with her.
But they and the rest of the ship’s skeleton crew awaken from hibernation to find Earth’s solar system dark and silent—no signals, no responses to their transmissions. When they make orbit, the magnitude of the disaster becomes clear: An apocalyptic war has killed billions and destroyed every last source of power and tech that 22nd-Century humans relied on to survive.
Getting down to Earth is only the beginning of Leif’s problems. Those few who survived the apocalypse are still divided, fighting over what’s left. The disastrous re-entry to Earth leaves him with no resources or allies. He lands in the middle of a makeshift family that needs him more than he’s comfortable with and hears stories—even nursery rhymes—that speak of a lucky starman. For once, he’s the only person with tech—but if he’s caught using it, they might kill him.
Can a man back from the stars end the warfare on Earth, or will he make it worse? Can he save a family that might become his? Is he everyone’s lucky starman?
Warnings: Combat situations (one-on-one and armies), named characters die
About the Series:
These are the adventures of Leif, who some have called the Lucky. They begin in the year 2069, when humanity’s last chance for peace is the first ever interstellar mission. However, when you believe you have thought of everything, the universe has a way of showing that you haven’t.
What do you do when it goes wrong, when you can’t call for help, and when adventure leads to deaths? If you survive one journey, what do you do next?
Get It On Amazon | GoodreadsExcerpt
“Leif, we have a problem.”
I heard Charley’s voice as if from a great distance. The post-hib blur was a dense fog in my mind. I recognized the words but could not grasp their meaning. In my defense, I hadn’t even sat up in the hibernation unit yet; its bath was still draining.
I wrenched off the mask and cannula and removed the port from my arm. Then I sat up with a profound groan. Nearly four and a half years’ hibernating did more than blur the brain. Every muscle was stiff. I was surprised my joints didn’t squeak. Multiyear hib did not get better with repetition. I blinked and tried to bring Charley’s face into focus. Dr. Charles Osborne, I told myself. Our ship’s physician. He was supposed to be with me when I came out of hib. He had dark brown skin on a kindly round face, short black hair, and a closely cropped beard.
“Leif, we have a problem,” he repeated. “Yang needs you on the bridge.”
Why did there always have to be a problem? Why couldn’t someone say, Leif, life is great, and the world is beautiful. Why don’t you come share it? But, no, that’s not the way my life goes.
I groaned again and managed to say, “What?”
Charley shook his head. “I don’t know. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t get your equipment off first. I’m, I don’t know, worried. Here’s your OJ. Yang asked you to skip the gym. She really wants you on the bridge as soon as you can get there.”
That bit penetrated the blur. Yong had woken me early on the flight to High Noon, the very first starshot, when the ship’s computer tried to abort the mission after a hib failure. What was it this time?
I downed the orange juice with sugar in one fast chug. Having come out of four previous multiyear hib stretches on starflights, I had learned that the best way to return to the status of a functional human was to follow a carefully escalating workout routine in the gym. It felt awful while I was doing it, but it worked. There would be a good reason if Yang Yong wanted me to skip it. And the good reason would be something bad. Count on it.
I blinked again. “Can I at least get dressed and grab a couple of protein bars from the caf?” I did manage to get the croak out of my voice.
“I’m sure,” Charley said. “Just grab ’em and go to the bridge.”
“I’m on it,” I said. “Where’s the famous laxative pack?”
Charley had that in his other hand. The constipation from hib on an interstellar flight would not, in fact, kill you, but there were times I wished it would.
Once Charley left, I pulled myself out of the unit and stood up, shivering. My muscles shook trying to hold me upright. At least I’d done this often enough to know what would hurt most and how to manage it. The biggest problem was the knee that had been surgically rebuilt after I was wounded on Mindanao back in 2062. That was why I had left the Rangers and the service, and with each long hib, it got harder and harder to return it to normal.
No help for that. I settled for cursing long and loud while I toweled off. Then I pulled on the ship’s polo shirt with its NASA emblem over the left breast and my name, Grettison, embroidered below it. The starshot emblem of a gloved hand clutching a star above STARSHOT xv was stitched over the right breast. Ship pants, ankle socks, and ship boots completed the outfit. We were obviously decelerating at one gee because my weight felt normal, so I didn’t need the SureGrip soles for the StickStrips on the deck.
I pulled open the privacy screen around my unit and stepped out onto the hib deck. All the other units I could see were off. My adrenals squeezed immediately and I felt a sense of panic. Then my mind pulled its memories through the post-hib blur. Of course nearly all the units were empty and off. We had put the colonists down on the planet called Heaven, meaning only seven of us were on the Dauntless for the return to Earth.
I did a set of breathing exercises and got my heart rate and blood pressure under control. It wouldn’t do for me to have a stroke before I heard Yong’s problem. Maybe afterward, if it was bad enough.
With my legs wobbling under me, I took the lift to the deck where the caf was and grabbed energy bars. I took the time to eat one of them and chug another sugared orange juice. I needed to get to the bridge, but I also needed to not fall on my face when I got there.
When I entered the bridge, two energy bars swallowed and two more in my pocket, one of the chairs swiveled around. Yang Yong, pilot-in-command of the Dauntless, stood to greet me. She was a petite and slender woman with high cheekbones and brown hair cropped as short as mine. Small, yes, but there was nothing soft or delicate about her. She’d been a crack attack plane pilot for China’s People’s Liberation Army Air Force during the Troubles, which meant we had been on opposite sides of the fighting. Opposite sides, hell. She had damn near killed me on Mindanao when she bombed my platoon’s position the day the world almost ended.
Fortunately, our relationship had evolved from there. We were now two sides of the same coin and had decided to spend our lives flying through the universe together. It’s not that either one of us ever used the L‑word, but we knew what we meant to each other.
She did not smile at me. She did not even give me her tight little grin. I knew her well enough to tell that she was tense, though no one else would see any difference in the way she held herself.
If Yang Yong was tense, something was very, very wrong.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“I don’t know. We are not receiving anything.”
“Nothing?” I tried to wrap my mind around that and let my hand drop from the pocket with the energy bars. They could wait.
“Nothing,” she repeated. “We are inside the orbit of Pluto, and there is no signal from the International Space Commission. I have sent transmissions to Earthbase, NASA, and CNSA. We have received no response, and enough time has elapsed for a reply to reach us. Before you ask, I have checked over our equipment. It is fine. The solar system is silent.”
Author Bio
Colin Alexander is a writer of science fiction and fantasy. Actually, Colin Alexander is the pseudonym for Alton Kremer, maybe his alter ego, or who he would have been if he hadn’t been a physician and biochemist and had a career as a medical researcher. His most recent book, The Lucky Starman, is his ninth and the third of the Leif the Lucky novels. Colin is an active member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers Association, Mystery Writers of America, and the Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance. Away from writing fiction, his idea of relaxation is martial arts (taekwondo and minna jiu jitsu). He lives in Maine with his wife.
April 20, 2023
Writing “Foxy Tails”
Nothing marks a writer as the biggest nerd on earth as showing your wuxia-inspired cover, featuring a nine-tailed fox in its human form, to your friends and have them step back and go, “Oh, *insert pause here*, that’s *another pause* nice?”
Then there’s a moment of panic. “Oh, my God, did I make the wrong choice for the cover? Are people going to hate it? What have I done?”
Later, you realize you love your cover. It fits the mood of the story perfectly, an Asian-inspired telling of a magical being fighting society’s perceptions of people like him. I might as well accept the nerd label and be proud.
I have been on a diet of Chinese period fantasies for a few years. At first, I couldn’t figure out what was about them that attracted me so much, but I think I have figured it out. Most of them follow a sort of a scheme where things normally start light and breezy with lots of humor and child-like wonder and then become progressively darker and heavier. However most maintain a good balance of humor, romance, and drama. That’s my catnip. If I was to analyze my favorite books of all times (except possibly the great gothic romances) they all have that balance.
That’s also what I like to write, stories that mix the serious with the irreverent, that make you giggle as much as cry, and if that makes me a nerd so be it!
Now, if only I could find my likeminded audience….
What do you think of the cover, my friends?
Preorder today at half-price
Releasing April 28, 2023
⇨ Amazon
⇨ All Links
Join a witty fox, a divine healer, and their companions on a voyage filled with danger, magic, romance, and surprises in a world where nothing is what it seems in this stunning MM fantasy romance by best-selling author Natalina Reis.
Unloved and broken, Húlí knows nothing but hate. Born a nine-tailed fox in a world that hunts demons like him, he does what he must to survive.
Until the day fate throws him right into the arms of the Healer.
Xiao Ying grew up in a family of divine healers. But when he comes back to find his whole family murdered, he vows to bring them the justice they deserve. Xiao Ying chooses a lonely life, gathering the evidence he needs, and not allowing anything to get in his way.
Until the day his life crosses that of a nine-tailed fox and changes forever.
Brought together by fate and united by love, Huli and Xiao Ying embark on the adventure of a lifetime. One that will either answer all their questions or reveal truths they should’ve left buried.
“This story is so engrossing! I was wrapped into it from the first page. The characters are wonderful, the plot full of twists and surprises and intrigue, and it has all the elements of both romance and high fantasy I love so much. SO GOOD!” Beta Reader
April 8, 2023
A Song of Wraiths and Ruin – Book Review
A Song of Wraiths and Ruin by Roseanne A. Brown
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This was a fabulous read in a not-your-usual world in the fantasy genre. Great characters, great writing, lots of twists that made me yell out in surprise and a romance that has been through the wringers. And kudos for the cover. Beautiful. I will definitely read the sequel.
There were a couple things that bugged me, not enough to ruin the pleasure of reading it but enough to make me go, “Why?”
There were a few typos throughout the book, a book that is published by one of the big guys of publishing. No fault on the author. Being an author myself I know how many times a book is read and edited before publishing. But it was still a weird thing to find in a traditionally published book.
The other one was that to me the main male character, Malik, comes through as too young to be having romantic feelings for anyone. In fact it wasn’t until well through the middle of the story that I realized he is indeed a teenager, at least 16 years old, possibly older (even though it’s never really stated). I thought he was a ten-eleven year old because he is constantly referred to as a “boy”, and was shocked when he began to have feelings for Karina. She comes through as much older than he is when I believe (I could be wrong) they’re supposed to be about the same age.
Despite this, I so loved this book and can’t wait to read the next one.
March 27, 2023
House of Sky and Breath-Review
House of Sky and Breath by Sarah J. Maas
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Another fabulous book by Maas. This woman can tell a story.
I liked almost everything about this book: the character growth, the new budding relationships among the side characters, the unexpected twists to the plot, the found-family trope. One of the things Maas excels in–and this book is no exception–is in creating side characters who are as fascinating or more than the protagonists. I think I am as much in love-or more actually-with Rune than Hunt and Ethan has turned out to be an amazing sidekick.
My only complaint is that there is really too many sex scenes. And actually it is not even the sex itself as the language Maas uses to describe it. Here’s a loving couple who are soulmates and never once do they refer to having sex with each other as making love. The F-word is always preferred and for an old linguist like me that word carries a crass, purely physical, even slightly animalistic meaning. At times it seemed as their feelings for each other were always described through a purely physical reaction. That said, I just began skimming over those parts and focused on the real good stuff. And there is a LOT of it.
No spoilers but holy crap that ending made me scream in surprise. Cannot imagine where Maas is going with this but I like it!
March 18, 2023
The Dragon Eater- New Release
J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer YA/Crossover Sci-Fantasy book out – The Dragon Eater, Tharassas Cycle book one. There’s a giveaway, and a free book with purchase too!
Raven’s a thief who just swallowed a dragon. A small one, sure, but now his arms are growing scales, the local wildlife is acting up, and his snarky AI familiar is no help whatsoever.
Raven’s best friend Aik is a guardsman carrying a torch for the thief. A pickpocket and a guard? Never going to happen. And Aik’s ex-fiancé Silya, an initiate priestess in the midst of a magical crisis, hates Raven with the heat of a thousand suns.
This unlikely team must work together to face strange beasts, alien artifacts, and a world-altering threat. If they don’t figure out what to do soon, it might just be the end of everything.
Things are about to get messy.
About the Series:The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.
Order and Get the Prequel FreeI’m giving away the prequel, Tales From Tharassas, with all orders – it contains The Last Run, The Emp Test, and a brand new short story the Fallen Angel. Just order the book and email me a proof of purchase at scott@jscottcoatsworth.com, and I’ll send you the eBook.
Scott is giving away a $20 book gift card with this reveal – your choice of Amazon, B&N, Kobo or Smashwords. Enter for a chance to win:
a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Excerpt
Spin’s voice echoed in his ear. “This is a bad idea, boss.”
“Shush,” Raven whispered to his familiar.
He needed to concentrate. Cheek and jowl against the smooth cobblestones, he held his breath and prayed to the gods that no one had seen him duck under the sea master’s ornate carriage. The setting sun cast long shadows from a pair of boots so close to his face that the dust and leather made him want to sneeze. Their owner was deep in conversation with the sea master, the hem of her fine mur silk trousers barely visible. The two women’s voices were hushed, and he could only make out the occasional word.
Raven rubbed the old burn scar on his cheek absently, wishing they would go away.
“Seriously, boss. I’m not from this world, and even I know it’s a bad idea to steal from the sea master.”
Though only he could hear Spin’s voice, Raven wished the little silver ay-eye would just shut up.
The hencha cloth-wrapped package in the carriage above was calling to him. He’d wanted it since he’d first seen it through the open door. No, needed it. Like he needed air, even though he had no idea what was inside. He scratched the back of his hand hard to distract himself from its disturbing pull.
An inthym popped its head out of the sewer grate in front of him, sniffing the air. Raven glared at the little white rodent, willing it to go away. Instead, the cursed thing nibbled at his nose.
Raven sneezed, then covered his mouth. He held his breath, staring at the boots. Don’t let them hear me.
A shiny silver feeler poked out of his shirt pocket, emitting a golden glow that illuminated the cobblestones underneath him. “Boss, you all right?” Spin’s whisper had that sarcastic edge he often used when he was annoyed. “Your heart rate is elevated.”
“Be. Quiet.” Raven gritted his teeth. Spin had the worst sense of timing.
The woman — one of the guard, maybe? — and the sea master stepped away, their voices fading into the distance.
Raven said a quick prayer of thanks to Jor’Oss, the goddess of wild luck, and flicked the inthym back into the sewer. “Shoo!”
He popped his head out from under the carriage to take a quick look around. There was no one between him and the squat gray Sea Guild headquarters. It was time. Grab it and go.
He reached into the luxurious carriage — a host of mur beetles must have spent years spinning all the red silk that lined the interior — and snagged the package. He hoped it was the treasury payment for the week. If so, it should hold enough coin to feed an orphanage for a month, and he knew just the one. “Got it.”
“Good. Now get us out of here.”
A strange tingling surged through his hand. Raven frowned.
Must have pinched a nerve or something.
Ignoring it, he stuck the package under his arm, slipped around the carriage, and set off down Gullton’s main thoroughfare. He walked as casually as he could, hoping no one would notice the missing package until he was long gone.
“We clear?”
Spin’s feeler blinked red. “No. Run! They’ve seen you.”
Raven ran.
Author Bio
Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.
He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.
A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).
Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com)
March 16, 2023
Thorns of Chaos-Blog Tour
Jeremiah Cain has a new MM fantasy romance out: Thorns of Chaos. And there’s a giveaway.
“Cain crafts a vivid world … rich with detail and myth-lore that traipses brightly through the darker themes of oppression and suffering.” –BookLife Reviews
Queer Grimdark Fantasy: Finn is no hero, chosen born, or noble. Despite escalating tensions from the Dayigan soldier’s occupation of Feah lands, the happy-go-lucky twenty-five-year-old is content to spend his days fishing and flirting with the other men in his Celtic-like village. But everything changes at their midyear’s eve festival when an angry Dayigan commander catches Finn in the arms of another man. Suddenly framed for murder, he must flee his village or face death.
However, Finn isn’t the Dayigans’ only target. They believe all Feahs are wicked and intend to destroy them by any means necessary. The Feahs’ one hope of stopping the reign of terror is to find a relic forged by dark faeries and able to control chaos magic-and claim it to protect themselves. With the fate of the Feah lands resting on his shoulders, Finn seeks out sorcerers who practice ancient, forbidden magic.
Instead, he finds love with the handsome but fierce head of the sorcerers–and a power he never knew he could possess.
But when the Dayigans strike, can Finn harness the perilous magic to save his people without losing himself in the process?
Warnings: violence, sexual content, harsh language, homophobia, major character death
Universal Buy LinkGiveawayJeremiah is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:
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Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47278/?
Excerpt
Finn jumped up from the shore and spread his wings before pushing them down to gain lift.
He kept a low flight of about thirty feet and could see their village as he passed.
A dozen rowboats—wicker frames covered in skins—lay inverted in a line on the shore. Just past where sand turned to grass, but before turning to forest, a small cluster of homes stood within a fence of long, thin branches woven horizontally between rough posts. Each of the houses had low mud walls and tall conical roofs of thatch.
Finn saw that all the villagers had gathered outside around the houses. Many held torches. A few children chased each other just above the roofs in aerial frolics.
Down the shoreline, Finn continued flying toward the Dayigan fort.
Ominous walls of thick logs, standing two stories high and sharpened, surrounded the roughly square fortress at a hundred and fifty feet across.
When the Dayigans had first arrived four years ago and built their walls, Finn’s people were aghast that they would rip down so much of their forest for such a pointless thing. The structures inside the walls were wooden too, with roofs shingled with green-painted wood. Wooden docks extended from the fort out into the river. Three large sailing ships—not built from these forests but from some forest somewhere—rocked within the tide.
At each corner of the fort, a tower extended higher, and from the center of each, a mast held a smaller horizontal pole at its peak. From each, an emerald green banner hung like a warning in the wind. In gold thread, it bore the sun and both moons in an upward-pointing triangle. A downward-pointing triangle, below the first, represented the distant island city of Dayigo. It screamed, “This is ours now, not yours,” a sentiment echoed by the fort’s inhabitants.
Finn knew better than to enter the fort. Instead, he landed on the shore just outside the wall.
There, the ground was planked over in a level boardwalk. Stalls ran along the edges. The area should have been bursting with goods from all across the continent, but it was empty.
Holding his salmon like a smelly newborn, Finn stared, disappointed and unsure what to do.
Lann landed beside him. “Won’t get much trading done here.”
“’Tis market day, is it not?”
“Aye, it were market day when it were day,” Lann said. “But ’tis not day no more. Come on then, let’s go back. Chief Kaie will have enough gifts without yours, so.”
“I’ve come this far, though, haven’t I,” Finn said. “Might as well see if someone’s about.”
Finn walked forward and stepped up on the boardwalk. He stopped and gasped, clutching his fish to his chest.
A Dayigan soldier stood guard. He was Human—a race like the Terovae, but without wings. They had hairy faces, and though some were thin, like Terovaes, others could grow wider with either muscle or fat. This soldier was larger in the muscular variety, and a suit of chainmail, covered by a green tabard, armored him.
The soldier eyed Finn but didn’t turn his way.
Finn had also found Humans to be a little angry all the time.
“Go on then,” Lann prompted behind Finn. “’Twill be midnight ’fore you’re done.”
Finn breathed deeply and approached.
“Good evening to you, Dayigan friend,” Finn said. “Hate to be a bother, sir, but I’ve come for a quick trade, and I’ll pop off.”
Maintaining his rigid posture and staring forward, the Human replied gruffly. “The market’s shut for the month.”
“Aye, that be true,” Finn said. “And I hate I missed it, but ’tis a special night, this. Tonight, my people—the Feah, well, all the Five Tribes really—celebrate Midyear’s Eve. That’s the end of the dark season and the start of the light season. I’m sure your God Déagar would have a special place in his heart for that, right? Light season, like. And you see, there’s this tradition where we all get a gift for the chief druidess, and I, fool I am, forgot. And to make things worse, me brother’s a temple guardian and his wife—my sister by marriage—she’s not only a druidess, herself, but no less the second-in-command of our whole fecking tribe.” He breathed. “So, ’twill go well noticed if I show up with naught but empty hands and shrugged shoulders, won’t it now?”
The soldier said nothing.
“Right,” Finn said. “What can I get for this then?” He held up the salmon. “A basket of eggs would be lovely. The druidesses use them for the beernog.”
“There’s plenty of fish in the river. We can get our own.”
“That be true, yes. But this fish isn’t in the river, is it? No, this fish is ready and waiting for yourself. And that saves you all the bother of fishing it out.”
The Human turned his head toward Finn and glared a moment. He snatched the fish by its tail. He held it, looked at it, and threw it.
The salmon flew a limp and uneventful flight to hit the boardwalk’s edge, head slapping wood with a spray of blood. It fell to splat on the beach at the water’s edge.
The Human chuckled. “Looks like ’tis in the river to me.”
“Fucking Human!” Lann charged forward to fight.
The soldier drew his sword. “You want to fight me, savage? I’ll gut the both of you before you can—”
“No call for that,” Finn said. “We’re all friends having a chat like.”
Lann stopped but glared.
Finn walked to Lann and patted his chest, now flexed along with the rest of his tense body.
“I don’t think he wants to trade at all,” Finn said. Turning back to the soldier, he added, “We’ll be on our way then. Good night to you.”
The soldier didn’t lower his sword, and Lann didn’t relax.
“The village’ll be waiting for us now,” Finn insisted.
Lann spit on the plank-covered ground.
Finn pushed Lann’s shoulder to turn him.
The Terovaes flew away.
Author Bio
Jeremiah Cain is a dark epic fantasy writer of a vivid world that BookLife Reviews called, “rich with detail and myth-lore that traipses brightly through the darker themes.” He served as an army medic and has a BA in Communication with a minor in English. In addition to reading and writing, he loves video games, particularly RPGs.
February 27, 2023
Lady Smoke-Book Review
Lady Smoke by Laura Sebastian
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I’m always afraid that if I really liked the first book in a series, I might be sorely disappointed with the following books. I needed not worry in this case. Lady Smoke was as good, if not better, than the first in the series.
I’m still loving all the characters, especially those who have grown so much since the beginning and can’t wait to see what happens in book 3 between our Queen and her once best-friend Cress.
My only gripe with this series is that I wish Theo would make up her mind between her two love interests. Every time I think she took a step forward in that area, she takes two back. Make up your mind already, Theo! This fiercely monogamic (is that a word?) woman can’t stand the ambivalence of Theo’s feelings, lol.
Ember Queen is in my library already. Can’t wait to read it. Laura Sebastian is definitely one of my favorite authors right now.
February 25, 2023
Labels-Yay or Nay?
I’ve always disliked labels. I’m not talking about the ones inside your shirts–even though those are equally annoying and unnecessary. School labels, gender labels, book labels–the way we, as a society seem to feel the need to categorize everything.
I’m all behind being organized, but labels are often confining and isolating. I won’t go into certain labels that seem to be back in force after decades of fighting against them. I’m an author so I will focus on book categories, one subject that’s been a thorn on my side for a while.
Don’t get me wrong. I worked in libraries long enough to understand the need for them. However some books seem to cross different categories and I don’t always agree with where they end up in terms of shelves at the local book store or even the digital shelves of the Zon.
I had a signing at a local Barnes & Noble recently. I was so excited that they bought something like 60 copies of four of my books and I was going to finally have my books on the physical shelf of a bookstore–a dream I had since I was little when I spent a lot of time roaming the aisles of said stores.
On the day of the signing, all the copies were basically stacked on the tables before us–and the store managers gave us front row for anyone walking in the store. I went back a week or so later because I wanted to see my books somewhere in the store and take the obligatory picture (yes, yes, I know it’s vain but let me have my little moment).
I couldn’t find them anywhere.
After a few rounds, I decided to ask an employee. Turns out my books (every single one of them) were in the storage room. Not a premium spot to sell books but I get it, I will be in the store next month for another signing so I’m guessing they are reserving the books for that occasion (at least I hope that’s why).
The employee was very nice and grabbed three of my four books and put them on the shelf so I could take a picture. That’s when it hit me: no one would ever buy my books once they were on the shelves.
One reason is pretty obvious: no one really knows me so why would they go look for my books? But the most relevant–maybe not so obvious–one is this (look carefully at the photo): two of these just don’t belong.
As soon as I saw my books up there I knew I was set up for failure in terms of sales. Dating the Intern is in the right place, surrounded by other rom coms and contemporary romances. But Dark Feathers, and especially Kiss of the Swan, are in the wrong place. So very wrong.
Kiss of the Swan should be in the same shelf as the adult Sarah J. Maas’s books (I’m not comparing myself to her, just the genres) or Raven Kennedy’s because those are the readers who would possibly be interested in a darkish fairytale reinventing. Yes, it is romance just like Maas’s Crescent City series or Kennedy’s Plated Prisoner books (with a lot less sex, lol) but you won’t find these series shelved with the romance books. The same goes to my novella Queen of Hearts. This one is even worse because it has a blank spine (due to the book size). If they don’t place it on a table, people will never find it.
So I go back to my dislike of labels. I know they are a necessary evil but that doesn’t mean I cannot gripe about it, right? And yes, my books might not sell because people are just not interested in them, but let me have the illusion they would actually buy them if they were shelved in the right place–or even better, on a table somewhere in the store where people could see my pretty covers.
Let me dream…
