Reesa Herberth's Blog, page 11

Waiting is Killing Me

If you guys are very, very quiet about it, I’ll give you a quick peek at the next Ylendrian Empire novel, Peripheral People. (*)

But seriously, you’ve gotta keep it on the downlow.  Don’t go posting it on the internet or something, okay?

 

* Title, prose, and pineapple content subject to change.

Chapter One

 

 

Inspector Corwin Menivie surveyed the wreckage of the living room with a wary eye.  It was a deceptively simple case, and it would have been easy to dismiss it as routine, to let the details go because they didn’t seem to matter in the face of the overwhelming evidence.  The fact of the matter was, the Imperial Enforcement Coalition shouldn’t have been called in at all, but the victim was a relative of the Counselor from Ethris, so here they were.

The implement of death hadn’t been hard to identify, what with it being clutched in the victim’s hand.  Corwin refused to think of it as a murder weapon until they confirmed the planetary authority’s findings.  Everything else had gone off to the lab, and they were left to try and piece together as much of the crime as they could before heading there themselves.  His partner, Inspector Nika Santivan, was checking upstairs for any further signs of a struggle and from what Corwin could discern, fellow investigators( and he used that term lightly) Shears and Gavin were outside sniffing the rosebushes.  When Shears spotted him through the window, he looked up and waved.  Corwin swallowed down his annoyance and turned away, back to the misplaced couch and overturned knick knacks.

A minute later, the front door opened, hitting the wall with a loud thump, and Agent Westley Shears sailed into the room, followed by his Ground, Agent Gavin Hale.

“Someone had a wild party.”  Eyes sweeping the room while he hovered in the wide doorframe, Shears looked a little puzzled, before his gaze settled on Corwin.  “What’s shaking, Cor?”

Corwin took a deep breath, lowering his voice and keeping his eyes firmly on the wall to the left of Shears’ head.  “You are aware that a woman died here tonight, aren’t you?”

“Very.” Shears turned as he replied, picking up a picture from the mantle.

“That could be evidence, Shears.”

“Wearing gloves.”  He lifted a hand into view and wiggled his fingers at Corwin.  “It’s not actually my first crime scene, you know.”

“Then treat it with the respect it deserves.” Corwin was going to regret snapping, but not enough to stop him from doing it.  “A life ended here, and the least you could do is act like that matters, instead of skipping around the yard smelling flowers and invading the privacy of someone’s home.”

“Hey, back off.”  Gavin’s folded arms and glare were clear warnings, but he kept his voice as even as Corwin’s.  “You want to talk about respect, try not picking a fight with a colleague in the middle of the crime scene you’re so worried about.”

“It’s fine, Gav.” Shears set the picture down and turned back.  He waited until the local officer left the room with another bag of evidence before he said anything else, then began ticking off points on his fingers.  Corwin’s blood pressure seemed to spike with each digit.

“First off, I’ve got nearly as much field experience as you do.  Second, we were trying to get a look at the flower beds surrounding the house, to see if anyone had been near the windows.  She wouldn’t have stepped on her own flowers, would she?  Third, I’m not invading her privacy.  She’s dead, in case you hadn’t noticed, and I doubt there’s anyone in the room more qualified to tell you that she is, without a doubt, not here anymore.  She has no privacy to invade, and I seriously doubt that looking at a picture of her is going to cause her unrest in whatever afterlife she may or may not have believed in.”  Clearly wound up, Shears stepped closer.  “And finally, I’m a Reader, and that means that sometimes I touch things to find out what happened to their owners.  No matter how much you hate us, you can’t be totally ignorant of how it all works, Inspector.”

A moment passed where Corwin felt damn near rooted to the ground, just inches from Shears, the tension between them a prickling sensation on both his skin and mind. It didn’t break until Shears frowned and looked away, seemingly confused.  “Although apparently I’m not a very good Reader, because I’m having a really hard time picking up anything from this room.”

Corwin stepped away, scanning the bookshelf, grateful to defuse the moment.  There were a few spots of blood, but nothing like the huge pool that had soaked through the carpet by the window, where she’d finally died.  “It looks like the struggle, such as it was, began here.  Maybe the impression will be stronger in that area?”

Shears’ questing mind glanced off Corwin’s defenses, and Corwin pushed back without hesitation.  Shears went stiff and silent for a moment before he turned in place, graceful as a dancer as his gaze raked over the room.  Corwin went back to the desk, rifling through the stack of invitations and letters with perhaps more force than the task required.  The light footsteps across the carpet gave ample warning as Shears managed to invade even that small corner of sanity.

“I can’t get anything here.”  Corwin turned his head to catch sight of Shears, entirely too close by Corwin’s estimation.  “It’s like the entire room is full of white noise, and I can’t read anything from the objects in it.  I need to see the body to give you anything useful.”

“Well, that will surely prove to be an invaluable addition to the case file.  Thank the stars you were here to offer the insight of the Imperial Psionics Academy.”

“I’m sure it will be easy to slip into your report, Inspector.  ‘She died of blood loss, and I don’t care.’ Did I piss in your porridge this morning, or did you forget to have a wank last night?”  Voice a soft counterpoint to the sounds around them, Shears betrayed none of the venom of his words in his expression.  Corwin, who knew full well he looked perpetually annoyed, almost had to envy someone who could convey their dislike with laughter.

“Fine.  We’ll go to the morgue next.  Try to maintain a modicum of professionalism in the meantime and refrain from turning the rest of my crime scene into some poor attempt at a joke.”  Corwin spun on his heel and marched toward the stairs, intent on finding Nika, and any measure of calm left to him.

 

* * *

Vacation: from the Latin, Meaning “Not Long Enough”

I’m back from Seattle and St. Augustine, ever-so-slightly tan (okay, really- less pale, and with a couple extra freckles on my nose, for Stanley to laugh at me about), tired, and wishing I was still in either location.

Walked over 20 miles in the 4 days I was in Seattle, and it was all cool, and caffeinated, and awesome. I love Seattle. I took my nephew to Gasworks Park, and we flew a tie-dye rainbow kite above the ruins of industry, and the inflated head of the Statue of Liberty. I managed, for the second time, to pick the week Salumi is closed every year, so I did not partake of the cured meat feast. I bought a whole salmon from the fish market at Pike Place, and they yelled at each other and tossed it back to be cleaned and wrapped, and then I cooked the hell out of that thing, and it was beyond excellent. I met a new family member, in the form of my sister’s gentleman caller. I had a raspberry mocha at Peet’s, and about half a dozen other drinks at my new favourite coffee shop, Bedlam Coffee. I made my Mom laugh, and we talked and sauntered and shopped, touched anemones, and gaped at otters, all a-touristy. Thank you, Seattle. I love you, in case I didn’t mention it enough.

Left Seattle, and flew to Jacksonville, where the partner in crime picked me up, and we scooted back to our condo. Friends were already in from their Disneyland vacation, so there was more visiting, and lots of food, talking, shopping (window, in my case), and eventually naps of great glory. It should be noted that this half of the trip was decidedly less caffeinated, and it showed. There was much beaching, some swimming in the pools, catching up with still MORE friends (these by proxy, though the time I spent with them was lovely and amusing), and heaps of fried seafood. The perfect date night was had, in the form of neighbourhood-cruising, the St. Augustine art walk, dinner in a charming cafe, plotting out the desires for our dream home, and topping it all off with milkshakes. I did some painting at the beach, fried my hair to a crispy crackle of salt-cured tangles, and thought about all the things I want to write, and how I can accomplish them.

I’m back at the day job today, fighting the air conditioning wars with my co-irker, drinking sub-standard iced coffee, and wishing I was looking up through purpled glass at a world that barely knows I’m there, or tripping over my own toes, caught in the cracks of a city celebrating its 450th birthday. Instead, I’ll go do the payroll, to remind myself of the check that keeps paying for these things.

SFR Brigade Midsummer Blog Hop – Contest Winners!

I didn’t used to be this scattered, I swear.

We were excited to welcome all the participants in the SFR Brigade Midsummer Blog Hop, and you guys left us some great comments. Our illustrious blog hop organizer, Pippa Jay Green, has announced the winner of the grand prizes, and they are:

Sue B with a comment on Pauline Baird Jones’s blog for her choice of a Kindle Touch/Nook Touch

Cheryl Corbin with a comment on Cathy Pegau’s blog for the collection of sfr titles and the Anabanana Gift Card

Huge congrats to them both and we hope you enjoy them!

As for the winner of the prize Michelle and I offered, a Samhain Publishing gift certificate, we’re pleased to announce that D.L. Jackson has been chosen by the randomizer.

Thanks to everyone who stopped by, and feel free to hang around- Friday (um, yeah, that’s tomorrow), we’re going to post a sneak peek from our next Ylendrian Empire book, Peripheral People.

No Loki! Or Life with a Wild Kitten

If you haven’t spent much time around children’s books recently, you might not be familiar with “No David” by David Shannon. While this post isn’t exactly about the book, I sure don’t mind putting a plug in for it. Especially since it was based on something he wrote when he was five years old! Writing prodigies… gotta support ‘em.

 

Anyway, life with Loki Kittenpants is a constant No David situation. No Loki, don’t climb the curtains. No Loki, don’t bite the handicapped kitty’s tail. No Loki, don’t chew the electrical cords. No Loki, don’t eat that nasty bug!

 

Try writing when you have about fifteen to thirty seconds between No Loki episodes. It’s not conducive to productivity. But then, just like David’s mom, I look at his sad little face after I’ve fussed at him and I have to stop and hug him and scritch his teeny tiny soft ears, sigh and say “Yes Loki, I love you.”

SFR Brigade Summer Blog Hop

 

The Ylendrian Empire is not an Earth-based society. There’s no Terra to be found, and humankind didn’t fan out to the stars from the shores of old Mother Earth. In terms of holidays and marking points, that means nearly every settled planet in the Empire has a different solar or planetary calendar, and declaring an Empire-wide solstice festival makes about as much sense as declaring that everyone whose name starts with a “D” has to celebrate their birthday on the same day.

Aside from astrologically incongruous holidays, the Empire likes to remind its citizens that it’s a good, benevolent force in their lives. What better way to do that than a paid day off and an excuse to revel? If there’s a moderately celebratory overtone to some bit of history, you can bet that it’s been considered for inclusion in the long list of Ylendrian Holidays. From Contact Day (the anniversary of the first intentional data transmissions between humans and Trakorans) to Triumvir (a three-day festival celebrating each of the founding races), the Empire likes a party, and everyone is invited.

Given the wild variations on planetary seasons and cycles, it’s rare for a local festival to coincide with the Imperial calendar. No matter- every planet makes merry when they choose. On Noska, summer is a periodic respite from the intense cold the planet is known for. The snow melts, dormant vegetation blooms, and there have been tales of a Noskan Midsummer festival lasting for weeks. Of course, given the slow orbit, a Noskan summer lasts for a couple Imperial standard years, so you can forgive them their prolonged celebrations. Other planets, like Karibee, do their best to make up for it, with summer-like weather all year long, at least around the settled archipelagos.

Remember how long Noskan summers can be? The winters are just as long, and brutally cold. Imagine what might happen to say, a con man who carelessly crashed his hijacked shuttle in the middle of a unidentifiable snowbank. Not the summer vacation Kellen Frey was planning, that’s for sure! (You can read a little more about that under the jump- a never-before-shared excerpt from The Slipstream Con.)

In celebration of our own earthly-bound solstice, we’ve got PRIZES! There’s the fabulous blog hop giveaway, featuring over 36 fabulous science fiction romance authors, and TWO grand prizes:

1st Prize – a Kindle Touch or Nook Touch

2nd Prize -a library of science fiction romance titles from over 20 authors (these will be mostly ebooks with one print anthology), and an Anabanana Gift Card.

All you need to do to enter is pop along to the blogs listed below and comment on as many as you want (only ONE comment per site will count as an entry). Each time you comment at a stop, you’ll earn one entry into the grand prize – so the more sites you visit, the greater your chances of winning. The winners will be drawn at random on the 24th June and announced on this site. The list of participating authors can be found below this post. Spread the news!

Michelle and I wanted to give away a little something of our own, though, so we decided that anyone who comments on this post will ALSO be eligible to win a Samhain Publishing gift certificate. Just leave a comment that includes your name and email, and the winner will be chosen at random (by random.org) on June 24th, and posted here.

“Strap him in. I don’t want him trying anything while I’m flying in all this fucking snow.” Dumb did as he was told, pulling the straps tight and crushing Kellen against the side of the flyer. His hands hidden, he put them against the cold metal, stretching out for the faintest connection. When he found it, it was almost too easy, a navigation line that ran from the main computer in the back of the craft to the stripped-down driver’s compartment. He was into the system in seconds, testing just how much sway he’d have to work with. It was within the limitations of the nanotech to read the navigation data while he was manipulating it, and when he turned them ten degrees off course without Short noticing, Kellen figured it was safe to try something a little more drastic.

The sensors were reading a rise in the landscape ahead, large enough that they’d need to shift course around it. Showing no outward sign of bracing for the impact, Kellen carefully edited the sensor data, the pristine and flat landscape supposedly stretching out for miles ahead of them. Short never slowed the flyer, and Dumb hadn’t even sat down. Kellen wound his way up through the layers of the ship’s systems, tilting them down towards the hill as it lifted abruptly out of nowhere. Seconds after Short figured out they were going to crash, Kellen cut the engine entirely, leaving them with no control over the craft whatsoever as it skimmed in over the snow.

The belt held when they crashed. He knew, because he was thrown forward, and it felt like he was being cut in half as it pinned him in place. He saw Short hit the console face first, but Dumb flew back past him, hitting the wall with a crunching noise that Kellen never wanted to hear again. His own head slammed back against the side of the flyer, and though he struggled against it, consciousness faded out.

—-

The helpful connection with the now nearly defunct flyer computers told him that it had only been a few minutes between passing out and waking back up. The situation around him was chaos, just as he usually liked it, but he felt like some of the disarray had taken up a space in his head. It took him ages to get the cuffs off, due in no small part to him first trying to use one of Dumb’s fingers to tap in the code before remembering that he could just unlock them by thinking about it. Or not, it seemed, but then he remembered his grandmother telling him to ask nicely, and they fell away as he charmed the tiny chip that made them work.

Dumb and Short were dead. Dead, dead, dead. He felt rather bad about it, really, since he abhorred violence, but he hadn’t killed them on purpose, and he hoped that counted in his karmic favor. Intent was nine-tenths of the law, wasn’t it?

Freed of the cuffs and the safety harness that had kept him alive in the crash, Kellen staggered to his feet and towards the main flight computer. There was no way the flyer was getting off the ground again without major repairs, but if he could access the communications system, he could contact Tal and Vanya. He could hear it crackling, a voice barely audible over the speakers, but when he touched it the board sparked, and the smell of burning electronics only got stronger. When the smoke started curling up from under the console, he gave up, backing away from the flames.

Logic told him that he should find a fire extinguisher, but his eyes didn’t lock onto one in all the mess. Short was slumped over the console, his head twisted nearly backwards, and while he might have been concealing one next to him, Kellen had absolutely no intention of touching him to find out. Dumb had reached a messier end, impaled on something that Kellen thought might once have been a conduit for coolant. There was a spreading puddle below him, and it stank of sweetness, urine and blood.

He turned away to retch, forcing down his gag reflex because if he gave in to his body at the moment, he was going to sit down and never get up again. Freezing-cold air assaulted him, and he pulled Tal’s stolen coat more firmly around himself, his normally agile fingers fumbling the zipper twice before he got it secured up to his chin. Pulling the hood up, he stepped lightly past Dumb, locking his hands over the edge of the door that was half-unhinged and yanking until the space widened enough to let him slide out. He wound up on his ass in the snow, the bulk of the flyer shielding him from the wind but not the smell of smoke and flame that thankfully filled his nose, overtaking the stench of death.

The sun was rising over the landscape, the coral burn lighting up the snow in a way that conveyed warmth where none actually existed. He wanted to paint it, a splash of obscene color bright against the nearly virgin white, but there was the smoking hulk of a dead flyer in the way, and his hands were too cold to move properly. Wincing, he pulled his arms back into the body of the coat, able to tuck his fingers into his armpits as he staggered farther away. He couldn’t imagine how this giant spinning ice cube could have supported Tal’s steady warmth, the flash-fire flicker of Vanya’s smile, but he knew he had to find them, and he gave up on fighting the wind. They had been flying into it, he thought, so if he followed the wind back, he could find his way.

He’d never been good at this part. Not the slogging through the snow and forgetting where he was going every few seconds, because obviously, nobody sane was good at that. It was the wanting and not having that was his real problem. If he wanted, and it was something within his power to obtain, he did. Done and done. Wanting and waiting, knowing that he was wanted in return and being passed over for reasons he had so little hope of undermining…

Kellen hadn’t been unlucky in love. He and Cassie had been good together, perfect in too many ways. In the end, their own ambitions had sent them in opposite directions, but he still cared for her, still loved her, and she knew it. He’d always thought they’d fall back together someday, less wild, less needy, more forgiving of each other. She’d been the first person he’d ever taken care of, the only one he’d ever felt responsible for, and her laugh was the same color as the early morning sky, golden and delighted. Stars, he was cold.

He stopped to look around as he crested a small rise, and the wind plastered his coat tight against his body as he turned into it. Pinpricks of unforgiving ice beat against his face, absolute murder on his skin, he was sure. The worst of it was, he was barely a hundred feet from the downed flyer, and looking back, he could see that he’d been weaving back and forth in the snow like some drunken skier. A wave of embarrassed heat spilled through him, and he turned away again, determined footsteps taking him down the other side, slipping in the snow and half-rolling to the base of the short hill. He landed face down and struggled to sit up as the drift tried to eat him. It didn’t help that he still had his fingers jammed under his arms, and by the time he was right side up and sitting, he was utterly exhausted. It was impossible to imagine having the energy required to get back to his feet, and even if he did, where would it lead him? He couldn’t remember, only the ghost of lips on his, and that wasn’t a direction.

Hunkered down in the snow the wind wasn’t curling under his clothes anymore, and with his knees drawn up into the coat, he was the warmest he’d been in what seemed like days. Almost too warm, and he tugged at the zipper from the inside, letting in a blast of cool air against his chest so he could breathe again before slipping his hands away to keep his aching fingers warm. He was too hot, and too cold, and so tired, but he tried to keep his eyes open for as long as he could, counting the snowflakes as they landed in his eyelashes. By the time he surrendered to the pull of false slumber, he’d have gotten to at least thirty, if he could only have remembered how to count that high.

 

Balticon and Magical Cupcakes

Balticon was *mumbledymumble* weekends ago, and I am a terribly inefficient blogger.  I got to moderate the “When Bad Guys Go Good” panel, featuring Maria V. Snyder, Patrick Scaffido, Pete Prellwitz, and the GoH, Jody Lynn Nye.  People came to our reading.  Even people who were not related tous/obligated by friendship to attend.  We participated in our first Broad Universe Rapid Fire Reading, which was heavily-attended and an amazing way to connect with people.  We sat at the Broad Universe table and gave away vast amounts of free stuff.  I got to meet Heather Dale, who is charming and wonderful in person.

I forgot to take a single picture, all weekend.

One of the highlights of the weekend was the chance to hold a release party.  The Cupcakes and Con Men party took place on Sunday.  We went through 50 cupcakes, 50 free reads, 12 “Cuff the Con Man” prize bags, and a prodigious number of giggles.  Thank you to everyone who attended, and special thanks to our road crew, Alex, Debbie M., Debbie P. (Two Debs are better than one!), Kevin, and Tammy.  Our entourage came to join us from California, Indiana, Missouri, and Vermont, and made the entire con something I’ll remember forever.  Also thanks to Mary S., who pimped the party to a bunch of her lovely friends.  Thank you all!

More than a few people asked me for the recipes I used, especially the killer brown sugar icing on the spiced peach cupcakes.  Because I like to share, here they are.

I’m going to admit to something- anyone who snagged one of the Deep Space Chocolate cupcakes had a defective baked good.  I was flying around like a crazy person while making them, and I didn’t put the fresh raspberries in the cupcakes.  The whole reason I chose such a rich, dry crumb cake was that the raspberries tend to make a moister cake overly soggy.  My apologies to anyone who was desperately wishing for a glass of milk!

A Spot of Brown Sugar Frosting (used with Spiced Peach Cupcakes)

Deep Space Dark Chocolate Raspberry Cupcakes

Deep Space Dark Chocolate Frosting

Spiced Peach Cupcakes

Enjoy, bake in good health, and if we met you at Balticon, feel free to drop a comment.  We’d love to hear from you.

 

(You can also access these on the Recipes page, under Free Reads.)

 

SFR Brigade Midsummer Blog Hop

Hello there!

On Friday 22nd June (Pacific Time) the SFR Brigade will be holding its first ever Blog Hop to celebrate Midsummer. 36 fabulous science fiction romance authors will be telling you mystical or scientific stories related to the event, and they’ll each be giving away a prize – books, gift cards, swag bags…and lots more!

Plus there’s TWO GRAND PRIZES!

1st Prize – a Kindle Touch or Nook Touch

2nd Prize -a library of science fiction romance titles from over 20 authors (these will be mostly ebooks with one print anthology), and an Anabanana Gift Card.

All you need to do to enter is pop along to the blogs listed below and comment on as many as you want (only ONE comment per site will count as an entry). Each time you comment at a stop, you’ll earn one entry into the grand prize – so the more sites you visit, the greater your chances of winning. The winners will be drawn at random on the 24th June and announced on this site. The list of participating authors can be found below this post. Spread the news!

Glory Days

I’m coming up on a big number high school reunion. The hoopla has been impressive, to say the least. Rah, rah, best days of our lives, we were so cool, life was awesome ad nauseam. Now I’m not saying that high school wasn’t great. Had my share of teenaged angst, but all in all, it was a pretty damn good time. But having said that, the best days of my life? Not hardly. And seriously, how sad is your life if high school was the be-all, end-all? Seems like that would leave you a whole lot of empty, unhappy years.

Each consecutive decade in my life has gotten better. I’m in my late forties now, and I’ve come into my own. I’ve realized dreams, gone further than I ever imagined. There are books on shelves in bookstores and libraries WITH MY NAME ON THEM! I have my beloved family and wonderful friends. I have a fulfilling day job. And this wild, exhilarating, joyous ride is far from over.

Maybe it’s just me, but all of these good things in my life leave me with no desire to hang out with a bunch of people I wasn’t close to (none of my close friends are going either) and talk about how being 18 was the absolute pinnacle of existence.

Or maybe I’m just an old curmudgeon.

We Love Balance!

“Balance of Silence” is still a strong seller. Especially when we get great reviews like we just did from Night Owl Reviews! Four stars! http://www.nightowlreviews.com/nor/Reviews/Lilyraines-reviews-The-Balance-Of-Silence-by-Michelle-Moore-and-S-Reesa-Herberth.aspx

Planning on reading a “Balance” excerpt at Balticon this weekend. Reesa and I are participating in Broad Universe’s Rapid Fire Reading. For those interested in hearing something from “Balance”, a bit of “Slipstream” and excerpts from a ton of talented writers, stop by on Sunday, May 27, at 1:00 PM in Salon B. I feel comfortable promising a fun time!

New Review at More Than This

Ruth Diaz has written a glorious, five-star review of The Slipstream Con at More Than This, a new polyamory/Menage review site.

“I kind of love the plot. Because it’s more than just characters falling in love, and no matter how much I like that part, I really like a book that gives me a little something more. What’s more, there is nothing predictable about the plot here. Every time you think you’ve got it figured out, there’s a new wrinkle.”

It’s a lovely write-up, and I’m honoured that our book was chosen as one of the inaugural reviews for the site.  It’s definitely one I’ll be keeping an eye on, because I love a good poly relationship story.

 

More Than This: Menage and Polyamory Reviews