Joely Sue Burkhart's Blog, page 69

Friday Snippet: Lady Wyre's Regret

Since I did make a few minor changes to last week's snippet, I'm going to repost it here.  That makes today's snippet fairly long.  There's a lot of backstory that happens here that I might trim a little in the final draft, but you might find it interesting, so I'll keep it for now.  (First draft for the most part, subject to heavy changes later.)

Usually only poorly brewed tea managed to shake her composure, but as Charlotte stared at the carnage, she wanted to weep.  A large screen ten paces high and wide covered the wall, rendering disfigured, charred bodies in gruesome detail.  Alien, yes, but no less disturbing. 

As long as I live, I shall never forget the sight of those poor people catching on fire, exploding, torn apart.

Evidently Queen Majel was not encumbered with any such trivial emotions as she sued for a brutal peace with the Razari.  "We won't permanently station a peacekeeping force on your planet as long as half of your surviving able-bodied males agree to serve a ten-year period of indenture to Britannia."

The Matriarch of the Razari hissed at the screen, revealing razor-sharp fangs.  A mix of browns and greens, her skin tone spoke of the mostly swampy condition of her home planet.  "You leave only a remnant of my people alive and then you take half of those?  We'll starve or be overrun by the neighboring planet.  The Shee have always coveted our crystals."

As do we.  Charlotte hid a wince of recrimination.  It wouldn't do at all to show any weakness, regret, or hesitation.  Let alone disgust at what my own mighty nation has wrought.

The Matriarch wore a crude necklace bearing one of the coveted crystals.  Approximately the length and breadth of an index finger, the crystal was powerful enough to fuel a Razari ship's engines for a month.  If the small twin-engine prop hadn't crashed so conveniently close to a Britannian outpost, and if the border guards hadn't done such an admirable job and sent the crystal straight through to Queen Majel's personal scientist…

Then millions of Razari would still be alive and free.

Charlotte's throat ached from holding back her rage.  She'd researched that damnable crystal, yes, and had found it fascinating.  Who wouldn't?  But she'd never intended for this to happen.  Dear God, an entire planet practically wiped out, and for what?  A few chunks of rock?

The Matriarch glared with righteous fury.  "One quarter of our males and only seven years."

Without replying, Queen Majel stretched out her graceful hand toward the electronic panel.  One large red button drew the alien's attention, her eyes slitting with alarm.  The poor creature probably thought that button would send the final blast through their planet, and it was all Charlotte could do not to blurt out the truth.  Although the button would merely end the transmission, nothing would stop Queen Majel from ordering the destruction with any of the other brutal weapons at her command.

Or perhaps she'd use more subtlety to conquer the Razari.  If she released Charlotte's latest creation of hungry dissemblers, within a fortnight there wouldn't be a trace of metallic technology or structure left on the entire planet.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, fighting not to be ill.  I never intended for this atrocity to happen.  Forgive me.

Gripping the intriguing crystal with one scaly paw, the Matriarch gritted out, "Agreed.  On one condition."

Queen Majel arched a brow at the alien but gave a slight nod for her to continue with her request.

"Any male who signs a contract of indenture must be allowed to keep his deathright, or crystals, as you call them.  They possess a religious meaning for us, Your Majesty.  Taking away a Razari's crystal is akin to damning his soul but leaving him alive, which is why so many of us are dead instead of surrendering."  Obviously a respected and powerful leader in her own right, the Matriarch bowed her head, still gripping her crystal.  "Please, Queen.  We'll abide by your terms, as long as we're allowed to keep our deathright."

"As long as you have no reluctance in allowing us to mine your crystals for less holy use."

"No objection as long as we may keep ours along with our traditions."

Queen Majel smiled more kindly.  "Then we have reached an agreement, Matriarch.  Expect the treaty to be transmitted within the hour.  Welcome to Britannia's fold."

Welcome to hell.  Charlotte held her tongue, waiting until the communication channel was closed.  As Duchess of Wyre and Queen's Physician, she had more leeway than most nobles when it came to handling their liege, but one must never question Her Majesty's orders before others, most especially their enemies.  If she'd dared to press Queen Majel's feet to the fire in front of the alien, Charlotte's head would have rolled, no matter how justified her argument.

On a whim, Queen Majel left the viewscreen up, displaying the torn, burned bodies on the wall.

She turned to face Charlotte.  "Don't even begin, Wyre." 

Most Brittanians would only see her regal manner, the proud tilt of her head, the centuries of breeding, wealth, and command bred into every bone of her body.  However, Charlotte knew the queen better than anyone except possibly Murray, her personal assistant and seneschal of the empire.  Queen Majel revealed a slight tremor in her hand as she absently tucked a wayward strand of raven hair behind her ear.

"There are certain outcomes of this situation that I regret, but I had no a choice."

"No choice!"  Charlotte paced the floor before the formidable royal desk.  "We could have bartered for the crystals.  We could have bribed officials to allow us an outpost in order to mine our own.  We never tried a peaceful solution at all, Your Majesty!"

"There are reasons and explanations to which you're not privy."  Queen Majel sat behind her desk, trying to pretend that the most powerful ruler of the most technologically-advanced nation in the universe was not shaken to her core.  That faintly trembling hand checked her hair again, needlessly smoothing her perfect coiffure.  "Assuredly, I shall be pursing recourse, but I chose to allow the assimilation rather than cause this nation any embarrassment."

If someone had acted without Queen Majel's approval…  With narrowed eyes, Charlotte planted her palms on the desk and leaned down, searching the queen's face for the truth, but her classically beautiful visage revealed nothing.  Changing tactics, she lightly laid her fingers against Queen Majel's throat.  "Are you well?  Have you experienced any new side effects from my treatment, Your Majesty?"

"I'm quite well."  Queen Majel jerked back violently, but then tried to disguise her unease.  "Thank you for your concern.  Oh, did you notice?  We owe the success of this assimilation to your wonderful technology."

Ice trickled down Charlotte's spine and her stomach flopped in a very uncomfortable roll.  She turned back to the screen, forcing herself to examine the bodies as a scientist and not a horrified humanitarian.  The scene looked like a bomb had torn through the village, tossing bodies and charred limbs about like kindling.  A flash of molten fire, raging to the heavens, and then the explosions, over and over, tearing the Razari apart. 

Gingerly, she stepped closer, her bones aching and fragile as though they might shatter.  It couldn't be her dissemblers—she'd engineered them to attack only metal, and the discarded weapons lay unaffected on the hard-packed earth.  "I never created any weapon, Your Majesty, certainly no bomb capable of tearing those poor people apart."

"I'm afraid the fire and explosions were their own creation," Queen Majel replied in a light voice entirely inappropriate in the face of such carnage, as though she merely shared the latest on dit.  "If you'd shown more interest in cracking open the crystal instead of merely utilizing its power, you'd have experienced the nasty side effect of releasing that glorious energy first hand."  Which would have saved me the trouble of having you killed myself.

Of course, the queen didn't utter those last words, but Charlotte felt the threat in that deceptively pleasant voice.  Danger tightened like a noose about her neck.  Don't be silly, she chided herself, stifling a desperately ragged laugh.  Majel cleans up her messes with assassins, not public executions.

"Evidently, this is the religious power the Matriarch spoke of," Queen Majel continued.  "They'd rather die in a blaze of glory than bend knee to another nation."

Charlotte only half listened.  One of the limbs looked rather odd, even for a Razari.  She was quite sure that scales covered the flesh instead of swamp-colored skin.  Had some other hapless animal been included in the carnage?  Surely not in the middle of their village, however rural compared to Londonium.  More, the limb possessed disturbingly humanoid fingers.  Perhaps a genetic mutation?  Caused by…

Her heart thudded slow and heavy, struggling to pump chilled blood through her veins.  If not her latest invention, then the weapon must have been crafted from her older research.

The research which saved the queen's life by attacking a virus at its molecular level.

No one knew how closely Majel had walked with death, nor how she'd been saved.  Charlotte's earliest research had been wondrous, truly, but also frightening.  She'd only just begun to experiment with her tiny nanobots, certainly never daring to test on a person.  However, Britannia's next queen had lain on her deathbed, her mother had tottered on the edge of insanity, and every traditional treatment had failed to stop the merciless march of the engineered virus.  Sent by Francia in one last desperate attempt to end the Hundred Year War, the Black Death had killed millions across their planet and very nearly managed to decimate House Krowe's royal line.

Charlotte had had no choice but to inject Majel with the warrior-bots and pray they managed to save her.  They'd battled the nasty biotech weapon effortlessly, but instead of ceasing operation as Charlotte had intended, those tiny units still functioned inside the queen.  To this very day.

Majel hadn't been sick in years, not even the most minor sniffle.  Basic physical examinations proved she possessed increased strength and mental acuity.  Wonderful side effects, assuredly, but undeniably mutations.  The queen wasn't exactly—merely—human any longer.

Charlotte couldn't help but wonder and dread what consequences they might one day pay for meddling with the delicate balance of life, especially once a princess and prince were born.  Could Majel's children carry a trace of lady-made technology?  Had House Krowe been permanently altered?

Unfortunately, Majel had come to the same dreadful conclusion.  Every time the queen looked at Charlotte, she saw an increased wariness and cold reserve edging away the lingering gratitude.  Someday, Majel would decide to silence the one person who knew her secret.

"I hear it was a trivial matter to reprogram your nanobots to attack alien cells instead of viral as you intended."  Majel gave a careless little laugh that chilled Charlotte's blood.  "Your creatures managed to make the Razari even more repulsive!  Before they ever knew a Britannian warship had entered their airspace, they began detonating their crystals to save themselves.  From you, dear Wyre."

It took a lifetime of manners and breeding to keep her face smooth, but Charlotte's stomach heaved.  They'd twisted her desire to help and heal into a tool for murder unlike any nightmare she could have ever conceived.

Worse, Majel's secret could not possibly be so very secure if a third party had used and warped that technology.  Even Charlotte possessed only one last prototype and she kept it under lock and key even from herself. 

Moment by moment, the truth became glaringly obvious.  Only one group was close enough to Britannia and Queen Majel to somehow acquire this secret technology, and also possess enough advanced equipment to alter the nanobot's programming and replicate it into this sort of weapon.  Of course.  No wonder Majel had been shaken yet so determined to pretend this had been her intent all along.

Only the Military Intelligence and Galactic Sciences division would dare challenge Majel's authority in this way.  Instrumental in the war against Francia, MIGS had gained considerable power over the years.  Lately, they'd been overstepping their bounds—in the queen's opinion—by keeping their research secret from the Crown.  If such blatant disregard for her authority became public knowledge, her supreme right as ruler of this great nation would be cast into jeopardy. 

Charlotte gazed back at Majel and knew the knowledge must gleam in her eyes.  As the queen had surely intended, else why had she dropped that little fact about Charlotte's own technology being used?  She'd never have taken a closer look at the body parts otherwise.  Watching the cold political mask harden on the other woman's face, Charlotte could almost sense the shifting of the ground beneath her feet, the glide of one pawn to another spot on the board.

I've always been a threat to her because I knew her weaknesses.  Now, I'm a liability. With my backing, MIGS could denounce House Krowe and set their own queen on the throne.

Majel turned her attention to the stack of official documents and datapads waiting for her attention.  "That will be all, Wyre."

After a decade and more in service, Charlotte had been dismissed.  Perhaps not publicly, not yet, but Queen Majel had made her decision.  For all Charlotte knew, her death sentence had already been drafted, awaiting the queen's final stamp of approval in that very stack of documents.  Thousands of Queen's Ravens were stationed in House Krowe's stronghold as well as throughout Londonium.

I might not even make it out of Winsor alive.

Giveaway: 14 Days of Love

Lots of opportunities to win books, including a copy of Hurt Me So Good and a signed print copy of The Rose of Shanhasson!

Branding

It's kind of an ugly word for me.  It makes me feel fenced in and constrained.  I immediately want to kick down the stall and race for the mountains again! 

Don't draw a line in the sand and tell me not to cross it, because @#%&* that's exactly what I'm going to do.  The surest way to get me to do something is to tell me it's impossible.  My great strength — and weakness — is accepting a challenge, no matter how…er…challenging. 

Write a complete first draft (50K) in two weeks?  Sure, no problem!  Write a novella and polish it for submission in a month?  Right on!  Hear about a new anthology call, or, God help me, a CONTEST!?!  Yeehaw, sign me up!  Write a zombie romance?  (See my story in Bump in the Night anthology).  Guilty as charged. 

But I'm at the place in my writing career where I can't afford to be distracted.  I need to build momentum.  I have a full-time job and I can't dedicate hours, weeks, months to projects that aren't going to build my writing in the direction I want to go.  I can write fast at times, sure, but I can't write ten full-length novels a year.  I just can't.

So I applied an important new layer to my decision-making process yesterday about what I'm going to work on this month and going forward.

First, I made a list of every single project or task I have on my list, including website maintenance, promo, works in production, etc.  I separated the to-dos into logical groups and created a separate list for just current DRAFTING projects.  If I've jotted a line or two about this project somewhere — or made a mental note about what the next book might be — then I wrote it down, no matter how nebulous.  I grouped those projects into logical series, target markets, etc. 

Then I made a note beside each project:  does this fit within my brand?

After crossing everything off the list that doesn't target my brand, it was easy (snort, cough) to rank the projects and decide what I need to do going forward.  Not every book I've already written fits within the brand I'm shooting for, so logically, it doesn't make sense to keep follow-up books on the to-do list, right?  Easier said than done, but I did it.  I've got hours and hours (weeks, months, even years in some cases!) invested in these projects.  That's the freedom — and cost — of writing for small presses.  I have so much flexibility I could really write anything I want, which I absolutely love!   But throwing in a YA story, for example, or a cool demonic thriller (yes, I have notes for both of these and many many more), isn't going to help build my writing career right now.

I consoled myself with the argument that I'm saying "not now" not "never."  I might also be able to take the original work and twist it so it does fit within my brand going forward.  Or, I can always expand my brand down the road — but I have to be focused now.  With the many genres that I like to write in, it may not seem like I really have a brand at all on the surface.  I've accepted the fact that I'm never going to be able to say I'm writing in a SINGLE genre.  I might as well stop writing all together than limit myself that way. 

So I'm going to have to work really hard to tie my work together, and I can't afford any distractions, no matter how bright and shiny they seem.  I know my target, my goal, and I have to concentrate my will to get there.

It might seem ridiculous for me to struggle so much to find my "place" but I've accepted (cough, snort) that this is just part of my unique journey.  It's part of who I am, what brought me this far, and it's something I'm always going to have to struggle with, like an addiction or obsession.  I have to protect my work — most especially from myself! – and that means I can't get distracted.  Or if I fall off the wagon, I have to identify it quickly and race to jump back on before I lose too much time spinning my wheels on crap that shouldn't bother or interest me.  And yes, before I've even posted this blog entry, I've considered deleting it and changing my mind entirely.  *grits teeth against temptation*

After some hard decisions, this is the list I'm concentrating on this year.  Obviously I won't be able to get all this done any time soon, and I'm going to be adding things to this list (I can't help it – it's my nature), but I'll have to ask myself the brand question before it gets added.  Priorities will shift up and down as contracts come and go.

Upcoming projects in the pipeline include: 

Lady Wyre's sequel, Deathright, Seven Crows, and Venom in the Jane Austen Space Opera world.  With significant work (e.g. throw out everything except the original premise and twist THAT), I can possibly slide Arcana into this world.  Yes, I've been sitting on all that research and work for years now but it's such a cool idea, I can't give up on it.  
Mal's book Mine to Break and a possible Mama story for The Connaghers
Phantom (working title), a new contemporary erotic series, followed by Camelot (still extremely nebulous since I don't even have Phantom completely plotted yet!)
Given in Fire, a Keldari novella.  (The Keldari dragons fit my brand before I even knew what my brand was.) 
I'd love to write Charon's book, and he'd definitely fit within my brand!  *winks to Sis*  
another extremely nebulous project I'll simply call Rain (in Golden's world) 
two new projects in unrelated worlds/series:  a post-apocalyptic (untitled) and Faced.  Both will have to fit within my brand or they'll get filed.

Protect the Work

I think I first heard (read) Alison Kent say that one of the most important things a working writer must do is PROTECT THE WORK.  At the time, I didn't quite understand the implications — because it's really a very personal thing.  What I need to protect my work from is not the same as you or another writer.  I have my own set of neuroses and challenges!  Many of which I'm still learning to understand.

Of course, on the surface we learn to protect the work by managing or limiting our internet time or household chores, but that's really only scratching the surface.  As I read Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, I realized there are emotional attacks — many unintentional — that we must also protect our inner artist from. 

For instance, there are certain blogs that are toxic to me.  I just can't read them.  They make me insane, tie me up in knots, and make me question everything I think I know or understand.  So why read them?  Exactly.  Protect the work!  Of course, you don't know what will bother you until it's too late at least once, but it's definitely saved my sanity to simply remove a few blogs from my daily feeds.

Or how about the well meaning internet friend with whom you've traded e-mails or blog comments with occasionally.  Sometimes you lose contact with these people for months at a time, and then whammo, out of the blue, they contact you.

"Hey, did you ever get an agent?"

"Did you ever finish that book?"

"Did you ever hit the NYT list?"

And then a few days later you find out this so-called friend did get an agent herself, finished an incredible book that everyone's salivating after, or made the bestseller list for the first time herself.  Emotionally, this can be hard to deal with.  Professional jealousy happens to everyone, whether they'll admit it or not.  In the midst of that green-eyed monster, it's easy to convince yourself that this "friend" was merely rubbing it in.  That she deliberately contacted you to gloat.  

Negativity feeds the jealousy, and if you're (I'm) not careful, it defeats my artist.  Maybe this friend's intentions were perfectly innocent.  My response is mine to control, and if I let myself dwell on how many agent rejections I've gotten or how I can't seem to finish the "big" book, then I'm going to get depressed in a hurry.

Protect the work.  Protect your artist. 

Lately, my biggest struggle is choosing appropriate projects (see January's struggles).  Why was that month so hard?  Because I allowed myself to get distracted by something that wasn't on my planned list and worse, didn't fit within my brand.  To protect my work going forward, I have to limit any kind of anthology calls.  As soon as I read some cool short story or novella call, my mind is GONE.  I want to come up with the perfect story.  Sure, some of these calls have led to sales (although not to the anthology itself – I seem to have lousy luck in that regard, ironically), but I have many documented ideas that could already be contracted.  If I finish them.

Letting myself accept an impossible challenge only manages to stall my work.  I know I can write a novella in a month.  I've done it.  Hell, I've written 50K in 11 days.  That's not the point.  I have to stay the course, keep my eye on the prize I've already chosen, and protect that work.

As a new month begins and you begin setting new goals, is there anything you plan to do to protect your work?

Good News Monday

With a snowstorm threatening — supposedly up to a foot of snow!  Ack! — I could really use some good news.  I don't have a lot to report myself but thinking positive will surely help me face this ugly cold Monday.  Let's see, I think I'm really going to have to work to be Pollyanna today.

Gregar showed up in Lady Wyre's free-read prequel.  *boggles*  I know, I know, wrong universe, story, etc. but it's working and is highly entertaining if self-indulgent.  Sherri gave me the idea about Sig and Gregar getting together to compare their knives.  Suddenly I saw them in a bar doing exactly that.  I've got just over 3.5K now.
I read a book this weekend.  I didn't really enjoy it but since we're talking about good news, I'll concentrate on the GOOD and be thankful that I did read and enjoyed my Kindle!  (It's not the book Alison Kent recommended — I'm still looking forward to it.)
My SIL sent me some inspirational music I can't wait to listen to today.  Hopefully it'll help with my Evil Day Job stress!
Today's the last day of January.  Instead of dwelling on all the stuff I didn't get finished this month, I'll look forward to February and begin making my goals for next month.
Edited to add:  Another great review for Lady Doctor Wyre!  Lianna Williamson writes:

Joely's latest novella is a stew of awesomeness: one part Regency, one part Science Fiction, and one part Erotic Romance, mixed together and seasoned with a delightful heroine who is both a legendary nanotech scientist and a silk-loving girly-girl, and two sexy heroes that she is not forced to choose between. Throw in an evil queen, a colony planet's rebellion, a sassy female pirate, and some hot sex, and voila!

Yeah, as I said, pretty skimpy.  Do you have any good news to share this week?

Save a Pet Today

Middle Monster (age 9) just wrote a very moving letter and she gave me her approval to post it here.  (Someone's been watching the animal rescue shows.)

People that are out there please get an animal.  Every day more than 1,000 animals die and so if you don't have an animal please get one.  If you don't it will not be ok because a lot of animals die because people don't care and leave them in the streets so please get one. A lot of those animals are starved and die from that so if you read this please don't throw your animals in the water, in the streets, and anywhere else.  Save a pet today!!! 

Good job if you do save a pet anytime and anywhere!

Review: Lady Doctor Wyre

Soleil Noir of Black Sun Reviews has written a lovely review:

I don't know how the author does it but with each read I find myself more and more captivated-ensnared-by her stories. Joely Sue Burkhart really out did herself with the world building behind Lady Doctor Wyre, because the world breathes like a fully realized character all it's own on the page. There is a lot to love about this new (tentative) series. It's a cross-genre of epic scale-reminiscent of Serenity and the Firefly series, and that can be read as nothing more than a compliment. In all of 73 pages readers get a dash of steampunk, a helping of science-fiction, a smidge of the old west, regency, and a smoldering pot of romance.

Thank you so much, Soleil!  There are definitely more stories coming, both with Charlie & company as well as other characters in this universe!

P.S. If you missed it, scroll down for the first installment of a free read prequel to Lady Doctor Wyre.

Friday Snippet: Lady Wyre's Regret

It's been entirely too long since I shared a snippet!  Lady Wyre agreed and insisted that she should attend to the matter herself, even though the first draft of her prequel is proceeding at a snail's pace.  However, those couple of hundred words a day are beginning to add up — I have over 3500 words now and still going strong.

First draft, subject to heavy revisions later.  No one has read this yet, not even my Beloved Sis!  I'm especially pleased to lay down the reference to Deathright, a related book in this world (though regretfully not featuring Charlie and company).

Usually only poorly brewed tea managed to shake her composure, but as Charlotte stared at the carnage, she wanted to weep.  A large screen ten paces high and wide covered the wall, rendering disfigured bodies in gruesome detail.  Alien, yes, but no less disturbing. 

Evidently Queen Majel was not encumbered with any such trivial emotions as she sued for a brutal peace with the Razari.  "We won't permanently station a peacekeeping force on your planet as long as half of your surviving able-bodied males agree to serve a ten-year period of indenture to Britannia."

The Matriarch of the Razari hissed at the screen, revealing razor-sharp fangs.  A mix of browns and greens, her skin tone spoke of the mostly swampy condition of her home planet.  "You leave only a remnant of my people alive and then you take half of those?  We'll starve or be overrun by the neighboring planet.  The Shee have always coveted our crystals."

As do we.  Charlotte hid a wince of recrimination.  It wouldn't do at all to show any weakness, regret, or hesitation.  Let alone disgust at what my own mighty nation has wrought.

The Matriarch wore a crude necklace bearing one of the coveted crystals.  Approximately the length and breadth of an index finger, the crystal was powerful enough to fuel a Razari ship's engines for a month.  If the small twin-engine prop hadn't crashed so conveniently close to a Britannian outpost, and if the border guards hadn't done such an admiral job and sent the crystal straight through to Queen Majel's personal scientist…

Then millions of Razari would still be alive and free.

Charlotte's throat ached from holding back her rage.  She'd researched that damnable crystal, yes, and had found it fascinating.  Who wouldn't?  But she'd never intended for this to happen.  Dear God, an entire planet practically wiped out, and for what?  A few chunks of rock?

The Matriarch glared with righteous fury.  "One quarter of our males and only seven years."

Without replying, Queen Majel stretched out her graceful hand toward the electronic panel.  One large red button drew the alien's attention, her eyes slitting with alarm.  The poor creature probably thought that button would send the final blast through their planet, and it was all Charlotte could do not to blurt out the truth.  Although the button would merely end the transmission, nothing would stop Queen Majel from ordering the destruction with any of the other brutal weapons at her command.

Or perhaps she'd use more subtlety to conquer the Razari.  If she released Charlotte's latest creation of hungry dissemblers, within a fortnight there wouldn't be a trace of metallic technology or structure left on the entire planet.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, fighting not to be ill.  I never intended for this atrocity to happen.  Forgive me.

Gripping the intriguing crystal with one scaly paw, the Matriarch gritted out, "Agreed.  On one condition."

Queen Majel arched a brow at the alien but gave a slight nod for her to continue with her request.

"Any male who signs a contract of indenture must be allowed to keep his deathright, or crystals, as you call them.  They possess a religious meaning for us, Your Majesty.  Taking away a Razari's crystal is akin to damning his soul but leaving him alive, which is why so many of us are dead instead of surrendering."  Obviously a respected and powerful leader in her own right, the Matriarch bowed her head, still gripping her crystal.  "Please, Queen.  We'll abide by your terms, as long as we're allowed to keep our deathright."

"As long as you have no reluctance in allowing us to mine your crystals for less holy use."

"No objection as long as we may keep ours along with our traditions."

Queen Majel smiled more kindly.  "Then we have reached an agreement, Matriarch.  Expect the treaty to be transmitted within the hour.  Welcome to Britannia's fold."

Welcome to hell.

Review: Lady Doctor Wyre

Sherri has posted a wonderful review on her blog:

Another amazing read! This story is a wonderful mix of steampunk, sci-fi, western frontier, regency London, and as Burkhart calls it "Jane Austen Space Opera." Burkhart peppered the world with enough information for you to see it, feel it, without burdening the story. A skill I admire. I love a richly built world but often find it slows the pace of the story…not so with Lady Doctor Wyre.

I can't thank Sherri enough for reading an early version and helping fine-tune the story before submitting.  I swear it was the easiest round of revisions I've ever had, and it was thanks in large part to my beta readers!  Thank you so much!

Good News Monday

I don't have as much good news to share as last week, so I'm hoping you can help brighten this day by sharing some good news.

For me,

I updated my website pages, cleaned up my links, and spent several hours searching through stock photos to find some goodies for a new custom header.
Managed to exercise at least 3 times last week (my goal).
Got up a little earlier today than last week (made it at 5:30 a.m!)  As a result, I got over 600 words on Lady Wyre's free prequel!
Lady Doctor Wyre is currently #1 on the Amazon preorder list for Romance->Fantasy, Futuristic & Ghost!
Lady Doctor Wyre has already received a wonderful review!

So now it's your turn – what are you happy about this Monday?