Cameron Cooper's Blog, page 15
March 24, 2022
I Can Already Hear The Screams
Space opera is generally optimistic in nature, although sometimes it can take a very dark turn, especially New Space Opera.
I tend to lean toward the happy, unbeat endings, myself. I prefer them in my reading, too.
But sometimes the characters and situations just won’t let me take a story in that direction.
That’s what happened with The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm.
From the get-go, the Ptolemy Lane series has drawn heavily upon the tropes of hardboiled pulp fiction of the ’30s, ’40s and ’50s. Hardboiled is often mixed up with Noir, which I cordially dislike. I heard one author describe Noir as fiction about “losers losing.” Couldn’t put it better myself. Ewan McGregor, after his Star Wars stint, tended to pick psychological Noir thrillers with sucky endings, for example.
Hardboiled, on the other hard, doesn’t have to be so grim and stark. I like to think of Hardboiled as the opposite end of the spectrum from cozy mysteries. Hardboiled can deal with grim topics–sex, drugs, betrayal, revenge, greed, etc. And the main charcter is usually a professional sleuth in one shade or another–Perry Mason was a sleuth, defined by his actions, even though he was a lawyer.
Where the “hardboiled” element comes in is usually via the main character’s cynical outlook on life. They’ve seen and done it all, can’t be surprised by anything life hands out, and look to move through it on their own terms.
Unlike Noir, though, Hardboiled fiction can have an upbeat, positive outcome. The good guys can win. There actually can be good guys, even while the main character’s morals are shaded in grey. The movie The Last Boy Scout is a great example of a modern hardboiled story with a great positive ending.
For two of the stories in the Ptolemy Lane series, I managed to pull off that positive ending.
But in The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm, I needed to demonstrate a fact of life in the Fringes, which required a grimmer, darker story. The themes are tough, the story very hardboiled.
I don’t plan on too many of these bleaker stories in the future, but sometimes they just have to be told in order to get the overall series story heading in the direction it needs to go.
The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm was released this morning on all retailers.
Ptolemy Lane faces two problems.A severed arm found on the roof of the highest building in Georgina’s Town sends Ptolemy Lane on the hunt for the rest of the body. It neatly distracts him from the fact that Diya Sandor, former ship captain and new town resident, has left him.
But when both issues intersect, the fallout can’t be ignored.
The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm is the third Ptolemy Lane space opera science fiction story by award-winning SF author Cameron Cooper.
The Ptolemy Lane Tales:
1.0: The Body in the Zero Gee Brothel
2.0: The Captain Who Broke the Rules
3.0: The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm
…and more to come!
Space Opera Science Fiction Novelette
Enjoy!
March 18, 2022
Science Fiction Story Bundle: Aliens Among Us
I’m in a Story Bundle!
Here’s the details from the curator, Dean Wesley Smith:
All Fun!
One thing science fiction fans think about when you say “Aliens Among Us” is aliens like body snatchers, or Grays flitting around Area 51. None of that in this group of great novels and stories. Just great books with great takes on aliens.
And the title of this bundle comes from a Pulphouse Fiction Magazine anthology of ten short stories by ten different authors of very, very twisted and strange alien stories.
So ten novels and a collection and an anthology. I can say this: That’s a lot of entertaining aliens of just about all types. And all worth reading about.
I would suggest you start off with Robin Brande’s three book Dove Season Bundle. That’s right, three novels in one book. Basically X-Files meets the X-Men and this bundle of three books is exclusive only to this StoryBundle. As Robin says, “These three books will take you on an unforgettable journey – both here on our home planet and to the galaxies beyond.”
Again, the Dove Season Bundle is exclusive to this StoryBundle.
Next, bestselling writer Cameron Cooper gives the bundle Galactic Thunder, the very first book in his new space opera series Iron Hammer. The series is a spin-off of his acclaimed Imperial Hammer series. In this book, the crew learn that humans may not be alone in the galaxy. Super fun space-opera read.
Rebecca M. Senese takes readers on a ride to stop an alien murderer in The Soul Within. The thriller search threatens the entire planet and the great writing and characters makes it almost impossible to put down.
In Azureseas: Cantrell’s War, Raymund Eich takes us all to a tourist world with only one problem: Large, dangerous native animals that turn out to be sentient. Great characters and a fast-moving plot makes this alien’s book a must read.
In this short novel, Restricted Species, Kari Kilgore takes us to a xeno-farming planet. Amazing how many things can go wrong on a simple farming planet when aliens get into the mix. And Kari keeps us reading right to the last detail.
In The A’lle Mutation, award-winning writer Marcelle Dube gives us an amazing place in Canada set in 1912 when an alien ship crashes and the humans and the aliens must learn to work and live together. This book gets you thinking almost from page one and won’t let you put it down. Stunning story.
As only New York Times bestselling writer, Robert Jeschonek can do, Universal Language gives us a short, powerful novel about language and different alien speech. Robert actually sets up a “war of words” to decide language dominance. Stunningly entertaining, you will be glad you read it, just for the head-shaking realizations it shows about our own world.
New York Times bestselling writer, Kristine Kathryn Rusch offers up one of the most compelling of all alien novels with Alien Influences. Maybe the best novel about alien and human interaction ever done in science fiction. It will grip you.
I decided that after the ten great novels above, I needed to toss in Alien Vibrations, a six-story collection of mine all focused in different very whacked out ways on aliens. And then for real spice to the mix, add in Aliens Among Us, a ten-story anthology with ten great short story writers all focused in one fashion or another on aliens. A really, really fun read.
I sure hope you like all twelve of these books in this bundle. I sure do. Get them all for one price and enjoy a few weeks of great science fiction reading.
– Dean Wesley Smith
* * *
For StoryBundle, you decide what price you want to pay. For $5 (or more, if you’re feeling generous), you’ll get the basic bundle of four books in any ebook format—WORLDWIDE.
Aliens Among Us edited by Dean Wesley Smith
Galactic Thunder by Cameron Cooper
Universal Language by Robert Jeschonek
The Soul Within by Rebecca M. Senese
If you pay at least the bonus price of just $20, you get all four of the regular books, plus SIX more books, for a total of 10, including a StoryBundle exclusive!
Alien Vibrations by Dean Wesley Smith
Alien Influences by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Dove Season Books 1-3 by Robin Brande (StoryBundle Exclusive)
Azureseas: Cantrell’s War by Raymund Eich
The A’lle Mutation by Marcelle Dube
Restricted Species by Kari Kilgore
This bundle is available only for a limited time via https://storybundle.com/aliens. It allows easy reading on computers, smartphones, and tablets as well as Kindle and other ereaders via file transfer, email, and other methods. You get multiple DRM-free formats (.epub, .mobi) for all books!
It’s also super easy to give the gift of reading with StoryBundle, thanks to our gift cards – which allow you to send someone a code that they can redeem for any future StoryBundle bundle – and timed delivery, which allows you to control exactly when your recipient will get the gift of StoryBundle.
Why StoryBundle? Here are just a few benefits StoryBundle provides.
Get quality reads: We’ve chosen works from excellent authors to bundle together in one convenient package.Pay what you want (minimum $5): You decide how much these fantastic books are worth. If you can only spare a little, that’s fine! You’ll still get access to a batch of exceptional titles.Support authors who support DRM-free books: StoryBundle is a platform for authors to get exposure for their works, both for the titles featured in the bundle and for the rest of their catalog. Supporting authors who let you read their books on any device you want—restriction free—will show everyone there’s nothing wrong with ditching DRM.Give to worthy causes: Bundle buyers have a chance to donate a portion of their proceeds to AbleGamers!Receive extra books: If you beat the bonus price, you’ll get the bonus books!StoryBundle was created to give a platform for independent authors to showcase their work, and a source of quality titles for thirsty readers. StoryBundle works with authors to create bundles of ebooks that can be purchased by readers at their desired price. Before starting StoryBundle, Founder Jason Chen covered technology and software as an editor for Gizmodo.com and Lifehacker.com.
____
Enjoy!
Cam.
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An excerpt from the upcoming The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm
I get eye rolls when I mention the title of this book. 
Today, we’re two weeks away from release, so that means, normally, you get the first chapter. But as Widowmaker is a novella, I’ll give you, instead, a long-ish excerpt from the front of the story.
Excerpt
EXCERPT FROM THE MAKER OF WIDOWMAKERS’ ARM
COPYRIGHT © CAMERON COOPER 2022
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm
The arm was the leastof my problems. At least it felt that way, even though it was the last to present itself that morning.
My first problem wasn’t solvable; I’d woken to find the other side of the bed empty.
I have a reputation in Georgina’s Town, built up mostly from myth and rumor, which is how most reputations are acquired in the fringes. There are way too many fringe people who would flatly refuse to believe I wake up alone the majority of mornings. But for the last eighty-seven days, there had been a warm body beside me when I woke.
I’d got used to hearing her breath. The shift of the bed as she turned over. The scent of her skin, which was unclassifiable, but wholly feminine and surprisingly delicate. I’d become accustomed to far more than the highly agreeable sex. Which makes me the idiot. I’m only three months short of my bicentennial. I should know better.
It was another standard day in Georgina’s Town, so I prepared to head to the office, which was how I started most of my days, here. As I moved around the apartment, washing, dressing, and making myself eat, I noticed even more small holes and absences.
The nearly empty closet, with my minimal wardrobe pushed to one end of the shelves, the rest of the closet an accusing note. The space on the side table beside the sofa, where her board used to sit. The gleaming, bare surface of the little dining table in the corner of the main room, which had been covered in her clutter for weeks.
I should have noticed the missing details last night, but I had come in very late and moved silently through the dark apartment so I didn’t disturb her. It bothered me that I hadn’t noticed the empty bed when I got into it.
I couldn’t figure out if I was pleased with the way she had left, or not. In my experience, these moments were usually punctuated by confrontations that involved screaming, bitterness, often tears. Occasionally, thrown objects. Most of them valuable. Diya, though, had quietly packed and left. Which was exactly like her. No note…but I didn’t need one.
My mood was not good when I stepped into the front room of my office suite.
Ninety-Nine sat behind the reception desk. Another surprise. For weeks, now, finding him there when I arrived had been a mildly pleasant discovery.
He looked up as I entered, and smiled. “No calls yet.” He pushed my first mug of coffee across the desk.
I didn’t reach for it, as I usually did. Instead, I studied his fine chin, pale eyes and cowlick. “This is your seven hundred and thirtieth day on the job.”
Ninety-nine blinked. “It is?” He processed that. “Two years…!” He seemed as astonished about it as me. Then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “That’s a record, right?”
I shook my head. “Sorry kid.” And he was a kid. He was a nodoc—a human—and only a third of the way through his short life. “Twenty-Three lasted for two years and eight months.” She had lingered because she was skimming my fees and kickbacks, but I wouldn’t tell Ninety-Nine that. I didn’t want him getting ideas. Then, because he had stuck around, I said, “Use the office slush fund and buy yourself something.”
Ninety-Nine grinned, which gave his normally pallid face a simple glow. “You could regret that.”
“Surprise me,” I told him. And meant it. “You’re the first nodoc to take the job. You’ve done well, given your….”
“Limitations,” Ninety-Nine finished, with a short nod. He’d thoroughly learned my opinion about humans. “After my first day on the job, I didn’t think I’d last, either.”
His first day on the job had been more exciting than usual. That had been the day Guisy Oakmint had been murdered by his “wife”—the doxy he’d adopted.
“Nothing’s really come close to that day, since,” Ninety-Nine added. “Knowing why serials are out here in the fringes, why humans don’t come here…it changes things.” He tapped his temple. “Changes everything.”
Ninety-Nine had been there when I’d dealt with Oakmint’s murdering doxy, and heard the conversation that came before it. “That’s not something to be shared,” I said shortly. “Don’t make me regret letting you hear it.”
When Ninety-Nine had first sat behind the desk, he would have quailed at my tone. Today, though, he simply tilted his head and looked at me. “Yes, but how did you hear about The Bluff?”
It was moments like this that made me think Ninety-Nine still had untapped potential, something that was lacking in most nodocs.
The desk lit up. A call.
Ninety-Nine connected. “Sherriff’s Office.”
Doc Lowry’s lined, unshaved face formed over the desk. “Hi kid,” he breathed in his gravelly, always-tired voice. “Jovan in yet?”
Ninety-Nine didn’t look at me while he paused for a fraction of a second.
I nodded.
“He’s in. Want to talk to him, Doc?”
Doc shook his head. “Tell him I got an arm he should check out. Top of the Pillar.” He disconnected.
I picked up the coffee mug and took three big mouthfuls, then put it regretfully back on the desk. Ninety-Nine had learned how to make coffee the way I like it.
“You’re heading straight out,” Ninety-Nine said. It wasn’t a question, because he already knew a lot of my business came through Doc. As Georgina’s Town’s only trained and qualified biotechnician, Doc Lowry was in a position to hear about trouble brewing.
I considered the kid. He had shown gumption, and he was still here. “Pack your terminal, put the desk on auto. You’re coming with me.”
Ninety-Nine looked both pleased and wary. “Is this going to be like Guisy Oakmint?”
“Who knows?” I headed for the door. “You gotta learn to roll with what comes at you, kid. This is the fringes.”
•
The Pillar was the tallestbuilding in Georgina’s Town. About twenty years ago, another building boom had hit, this one going up, instead of down. General contractors with more money than sense scrambled to outbuild each other, their towers reaching higher and higher.
The Pillar had been the last built, and the winner of the unofficial race, because its roof sat only thirty meters beneath the center of the dome itself. No one could build any higher than that, because there was no land next to the Pillar, and farther out from the center, the dome was lower.
My office was close to the center of town for strategic reasons. The location meant I didn’t have to cross town to reach any trouble. Ninety-Nine and I stepped out of my building, a twelve-floor, tasteful, near century-old faux red-brick construction, into bright white light. Abbatangelo’s sun was a blue-white, and brighter than most.
We crossed the plaza, which wasn’t busy. Only people trying to reach an upper level from a different upper level crossed between buildings at ground level. The lower levels were a warren of tunnels and complexes, which made horizontal movement easier.
The Pillar was on the other side of the plaza. We stepped into the building and then into one of the elevators which served the forty-two upper levels and the twenty-three lower levels. Two other people were in the car. I judged they were harmless, and entered my code into the car controls to give me access to the roof, which was denied to other citizens. The doors shut and we were whisked upward.
The other two people got off on different floors, leaving me with Ninety-Nine, who watched the control panel roll through the floor numbers with a nervous expression, clutching his terminal against his chest.
We stepped out into the bright sunlight once more. Ninety-Nine came to a halt, looking up at the glass-like dome. “I can almost touch it….” Awe rang in his voice.
“You can’t. Not from here. And you wouldn’t want to. It would freeze your fingers.” I kept moving, intending to take a circuit around the edge of the roof to find Doc.
Doc stepped out from around the side of the elevator housing and beckoned.
We moved around to the other side of the roof. This side got sunlight all day. Doc headed for a man who stood by the elevator housing, staring out through the dome at the sterile, rock-strewn landscape outside. The man’s face was grey.
“Building management,” I murmured for Ninety-Nine’s sake.
Doc stopped with one shoulder almost against the wall, and beckoned again.
We went up to him.
The arm laid on the dusty floor of the roof, right up against the elevator housing, so the elbow was tucked into the crease between roof and wall. The fingers were slightly curled, the way they did when you relaxed. It hadn’t been covered up in any way.
The shoulder end of the arm had been hacked at with something sharp, leaving jagged edges in the skin and meat beneath.
Ninety-Nine turned away, swallowing.
I bent closer to inspect the business end. They’d cut through the soft tissues right at the shoulder joint. The end of the humerus wasn’t a nicely curved ball anymore. It had been wrenched out of shape, the titanium pitted and bent.
“Like snapping a chicken wing off,” Doc guessed.
Ninety-Nine gave a soft moan.
“Looks like, yeah.” I straightened. “Serial number?” I could have determined the number for myself by tasting the blood, but that was a skill I kept to myself, mostly, and Doc would have already checked the serial number for himself with his hand-processor while waiting for me to arrive.
Doc Lowry held his terminal out to me. I took it and scanned the screen. I’ve had a lot of practice skimming serial registrations, and knew where to look for a fast summary.
“Sejad Pascale,” I read off. “Technician model. Made after the Purging—”
“Isn’t everyone born…built after the Purging, out here?” Ninety-Nine said.
I stared at him, more because he’d had the balls to interrupt, than for the quality of his question.
“There’s some still around from before the Purging, kid,” Doc told him. “Very few, but the biotechs keep ‘em going and going.”
“The Purging was five hundred years ago!”
“Nearly six hundred, actually,” I said. I lifted the terminal. “Built in a serial-owned facility on Thasauria b in 3372 PCE. First assignment to a high tech manufacturing plant on Thasauria. No other entries.” I looked up. “Revealing as usual. Ninety-Nine, look up the town registry. See if there’s a Sejad Pascale.”
“Figure he’s using the same name after all this time?” Doc Lowry asked.
I nearly pointed out that I was still using the name assigned to me, but stopped myself. Fact was, I had a few spares up my sleeve for times when the baggage that came with Ptolemy Jovan Lane was inconvenient.
Doc shifted his boot, to point the toe at the severed arm. “Sun is drying it out. It’s been here a day, at least.” He met my gaze.
“The scrubbers.” I pulled out my own, smaller terminal from my coat pocket and searched for the name I needed, then requested a connection.
Ninety-Nine was frowning at Doc and me.
“Spit it out,” I told him.
“Why aren’t you checking with the First Aid Stations? He lost an arm.”
Lowry just chuckled.
“No blood pooled around the arm,” I told the kid. “Pascale was dead when they took the arm off.”
“But why?” Ninety-Nine sounded utterly bewildered. And outraged.
“Jovan!” Esperanta said from my terminal. “You son of a bitch! You didn’t come to my dinner party.”
I raised the terminal and smiled at her. “Esperanta, my darling. That was a year ago, and I was stranded on a ship out of Godehaden, fighting off slavers.”
Esperanta rolled her eyes. “Your stories grow more ridiculous every time, Jovan.”
I smiled modestly. Then I said, “Business, for a moment.”
“Business,” she agreed, straightening up.
“Check the rhodium levels coming through the scrubbers for the last….” I calculated. “Three days.”
I was aware of Ninety-Nine’s puzzled stare. He wasn’t following. But that was to be expected. Most folk in GT were ignorant about the small miracles that let them breathe fresh air and drink clean water.
Esperanta’s expression sobered. “Rhodium….” Her gaze shifted off screen. She was consulting another screen. Running queries. Then she shook her head. “No alerts, going back over a year. Nothing pinged the sensors, Jovan.” She looked troubled. “Someone knows what they’re doing.”
“Uh-huh,” I agreed heavily.
Esperanta scowled at me. “Next time, you come to my dinner party. No wild stories!”
“Tell Baasch hello,” I replied and disconnected. I put the board away and looked at Lowry. “Town-wide call,” I said.
Lowry nodded. “Just the other arm, you figure? Or legs, too?”
“Tell everyone to be on the lookout for both.”
Ninety-Nine raised his hand. “Excuse me?”
I turned to him, reaching for patience. I’d told him to come, after all. “Someone killed Pascale. Then they cut off at least both arms, maybe a leg, too. Then they shoved the body into a recycler and hid the limbs around the city.”
Ninety-Nine frowned. “I gathered that much,” he said with stiff dignity. “I don’t get why.”
“Because of the rhodium,” Lowry said.
“I heard that, too,” Ninety-Nine said, with as much false patience as I was showing.
“The amount of rhodium that goes into a serial’s chassis is within a precise and short range,” I told him. “Shove a whole body into a recycler, here, and the scrubbers will send up an alert that a body’s worth of rhodium has passed through.”
Ninety-Nine swallowed again. He’d got it. “Cut off an arm or two, and the alarms don’t go off…”
I nodded. “But meantime, the killer has to stash the limbs somewhere they won’t be found, until it’s safe to push them through a recycler, too. The alerts are set to monitor across six days.”
I beckoned to the building manager.
He sidled up to us, keeping his gaze averted from the arm, which Doc was bent over once more. I’d let Doc take the arm back to his lab. The killer wouldn’t be back for it. There had been too many of us tramping about the roof. He’d have been scared away.
I said to the manager, “How hard is it to get access to the roof?”
“It’s a secure level.”
I rolled my eyes. “You come up here a lot?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes you bring friends, ladies you want to impress, to show them the view?”
The manager shifted, his cheeks staining red.
“That’s yes, then,” I said. “Anyone pay you for access? Maybe to impress their friends?”
He straightened with a snap. “No! Never!”
“Been asked?”
“Of course! This is the Pillar! Everyone wants to see the view from the very top, not just the observation level. They say they want to touch the dome itself.”
I glanced at Ninety-Nine, who pursed his lips quickly, suppressing a smile.
“Someone saw your access code when you punched it in,” I told the manager. “They probably told someone else, who told someone else. Time to change your codes.” It wouldn’t help city morale if someone took a swan dive off the top.
The manager swallowed. “I will.”
I turned to Ninety-Nine. “What’s the resident register show?”
Ninety-Nine nodded. “There’s a Sejad Pascale registered.”
“Only until the death notice is posted,” I said bleakly. “What’s the address? Let’s see who’s home.”
Ptolemy Lane faces two problems.A severed arm found on the roof of the highest building in Georgina’s Town sends Ptolemy Lane on the hunt for the rest of the body. It neatly distracts him from the fact that Diya Sandor, former ship captain and new town resident, has left him.
But when both issues intersect, the fallout can’t be ignored.
The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm is the third Ptolemy Lane space opera science fiction story by award-winning SF author Cameron Cooper.
The Ptolemy Lane Tales:
1.0: The Body in the Zero Gee Brothel
2.0: The Captain Who Broke the Rules
3.0: The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm
…and more to come!
Space Opera Science Fiction Novelette
And don’t forget that if you pre-order the book directly from me at Stories Rule Press, you get the book a week earlier. That is, next Thursday (March 17th).
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February 27, 2022
25% off everything sale on SRP
The owners of Stories Rule Press, Tracy & Mark, are celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary this month and therefore, the last two days/first two days usual sale is for 25% off, instead of the normal 20%.
That is 25% off everything on Stories Rule Press, including boxed sets, and items already on sale.
Also: For this month’s sale, only, you earn double the reward points for any purchases made using the coupon code.
You can use the coupon code for all four days, as many times as you want. You can give the coupon code to friends for them to use, too.
8ED9EEFK
The code will expire at midnight MST on March 2nd. It will only work for purchases made on Stories Rule Press.
You can start browsing the store here.
Enjoy your shopping!
Cam.
.fusion-body .fusion-builder-column-0{width:100% !important;margin-top : 0px;margin-bottom : 20px;}.fusion-builder-column-0 > .fusion-column-wrapper {padding-top : 0px !important;padding-right : 0px !important;margin-right : 1.92%;padding-bottom : 0px !important;padding-left : 0px !important;margin-left : 1.92%;}@media only screen and (max-width:1024px) {.fusion-body .fusion-builder-column-0{width:100% !important;order : 0;}.fusion-builder-column-0 > .fusion-column-wrapper {margin-right : 1.92%;margin-left : 1.92%;}}@media only screen and (max-width:640px) {.fusion-body .fusion-builder-column-0{width:100% !important;order : 0;}.fusion-builder-column-0 > .fusion-column-wrapper {margin-right : 1.92%;margin-left : 1.92%;}}.fusion-body .fusion-flex-container.fusion-builder-row-1{ padding-top : 0px;margin-top : 0px;padding-right : 0px;padding-bottom : 0px;margin-bottom : 0px;padding-left : 0px;}January 27, 2022
New Space Opera Anthology with My Story — Now Out
If you’ve read the Iron Hammer series, then there’s a bonus in today’s anthology release — a short story from the series. “Insanity is Infectious” is from Lyth’s point of view, not Danny’s. A real change of pace!
It’s also a standalone story; you don’t have to have read the series to enjoy it.
Space Opera Digest 2022: Have Ship Will Travel is a *huge* anthology. Twenty stories, 400+ pages. I’ve seen the print edition; it’s thick and heavy, and the spine is wide enough that the author names are written horizontally on the spine, not vertically as usual.
Adventures among the stars need a ship to get you there.Stories Rule Press presents Space Opera Digest 2022: Have Ship, Will TravelSpace Opera heroes and heroines explore the stars and discover cool new places in ships which range from beat-up rust-buckets to sleek technologically advanced craft that are the envy of the galaxy. Space ships are quintessential for the adventures and challenges our favourite characters face.
Come and explore over 400 pages of worlds of wonder and the ships our heroes fly with Stories Rule Press’ 2022 edition of Space Opera Digest.
Space Opera Digest 2022: Have Ship, Will Travel is the second volume in a quarterly collection of genre fiction anthologies presented by Stories Rule Press.
“Sole Survivor” by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
“Captain” by Stephen Sottong
“Big Top” by Sonia Orin Lyris
“Cycle Three” by Stephanie Mylchreest
“Star Cruise” by Ron Collins
“Watch of the Starsleepers” by Christopher D. Schmitz
“Tome Raiders” by Eric Del Carlo
“The Passenger” by Eve Morton
“An Ordinary World” by J. L. Royce
“Insanity is Infectious” by Cameron Cooper
“Achenar” by Jasmine Luck
“Moby Dick’s Doors” by Michèle Laframboise
“Learning Curve” by Neil Williams
“Exotic Matters” by Phil Giunta
“An icub on Mars” by Barbara G. Tarn
“Of Hedgehogs and Humans” by Rob Nisbet
“Smugglers Blues” by Blaze Ward
“Altered Skin” by Sara C. Walker
“An Unexpected Taste of Home” by Terry Mixon
“Symphony” by Douglas Smith
Space Opera Science Fiction Anthology
__
Stories Rule Press is a family-run micropress in Alberta, Canada, working as a cooperative to bring great story-tellers together and assist them with publication.
Editor Tracy Cooper-Posey is one of the original authors with Stories Rule Press. She writes across several fiction genres, including space opera under two different pen names, and grew up reading classic science fiction.
The anthology was released this morning and is available on all retailers, but not on Stories Rule Press, because of the multiple authors.
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January 14, 2022
New Space Opera anthology, now available for pre-order
A couple of weeks from now, Stories Rule Press’ Space Opera Digest 2022: Have Ship Will Travel will be released. It’s edited by Tracy Cooper-Posey, one of the other authors on SRP, and I have a story in it; “Insanity is Infectious”. The story is part of the Iron Hammer series, but you can read it as a standalone.
Adventures among the stars need a ship to get you there.Stories Rule Press presents Space Opera Digest 2022: Have Ship, Will TravelSpace Opera heroes and heroines explore the stars and discover cool new places in ships which range from beat-up rust-buckets to sleek technologically advanced craft that are the envy of the galaxy. Space ships are quintessential for the adventures and challenges our favourite characters face.
Come and explore over 400 pages of worlds of wonder and the ships our heroes fly with Stories Rule Press’ 2022 edition of Space Opera Digest.
Space Opera Digest 2022: Have Ship, Will Travel is the second volume in a quarterly collection of genre fiction anthologies presented by Stories Rule Press.
“Sole Survivor” by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
“Captain” by Stephen Sottong
“Big Top” by Sonia Orin Lyris
“Cycle Three” by Stephanie Mylchreest
“Star Cruise” by Ron Collins
“Watch of the Starsleepers” by Christopher D. Schmitz
“Tome Raiders” by Eric Del Carlo
“The Passenger” by Eve Morton
“An Ordinary World” by J. L. Royce
“Insanity is Infectious” by Cameron Cooper
“Achenar” by Jasmine Luck
“Moby Dick’s Doors” by Michèle Laframboise
“Learning Curve” by Neil Williams
“Exotic Matters” by Phil Giunta
“An icub on Mars” by Barbara G. Tarn
“Of Hedgehogs and Humans” by Rob Nisbet
“Smugglers Blues” by Blaze Ward
“Altered Skin” by Sara C. Walker
“An Unexpected Taste of Home” by Terry Mixon
“Symphony” by Douglas Smith
Space Opera Science Fiction Anthology
__
Stories Rule Press is a family-run micropress in Alberta, Canada, working as a cooperative to bring great story-tellers together and assist them with publication.
Editor Tracy Cooper-Posey is one of the original authors with Stories Rule Press. She writes across several fiction genres, including space opera under two different pen names, and grew up reading classic science fiction.
Because of technical requirements with multiple authors in the anthology, the anthology is not available for pre-order on Amazon. It will be available on release day (Jan 27th).
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January 13, 2022
The Trials and Tribulations of Book Covers
Book covers are often a painful business for authors. Especially for authors who are traditionally published, when the design and final cover of their novel is completely out of their hands. Publishers can make some seemingly insane decisions about covers and all the author can do is say “thank you”.
Barry Eisler, the thriller writer, was so unimpressed by the French edition of one of his covers (see right), that it was the last straw: He turned to self-publishing his books after that. Looking at the cover, I don’t blame him. It’s awful, isn’t it?
I’ve also been bitten by cover disasters: Under one of my other pen names, I published a mystery with a traditional publisher, and the cover gave away who did the deed! I was horrified and tried to talk to the publisher about it, and was told “our marketing department likes this cover, thanks.” I was saved, sort of, when the day the book was released, Canada Post went on strike, so every copy of the book remained in cartons in my publisher’s basement. As far as I know, they’re still there.
But even indie authors have issues with covers–although they have far more control over the final results. Still, the limitations of stock photos, which are what the majority of covers are built upon, and the limits of their designer’s skills, dictate how the final cover comes out. Also, the judgement and taste and experience of the author will also determine if the cover is effective, or not.
I very often find that what doesn’t thrill me as an author is exactly the cover I need to use, because it shows exactly what the genre and type of story will be, and is intriguing enough for you, the reader, to check the blurb out and maybe crack the book open and read the sample.
We authors would all love to commission original art that exactly dramatizes a scene from the book, with precise portrayals of the characters. Alas, none of us can afford that luxury!
But with The Captain Who Broke the Rules, I lucked out big time. My first look at the sample cover my designer sent me stole my breath away, because it captures exactly the two main characters of the story. The scene even fits neatly into the story as I’d written it. It was one of those perfect covers that match the story in my head so closely that not a single thing was changed on it.
The Captain Who Broke the Rules is released today on all booksellers, including my own (which actually released the book a week ago!).
Ptolemy Jovan Lane meets his next adventure.Lane’s personal cargo is jettisoned while traveling back to Georgina’s Town after the death of a friend. Lane confronts Captain Sandor and learns the ship is being pursued by slavers. Captain Sandor’s response to the disaster is anything but typical. Nor is she above roping in Lane to help…
“The Captain Who Broke The Rules” is the second Ptolemy Lane space opera science fiction story by award-winning SF author Cameron Cooper.
The Ptolemy Lane Tales:
1.0: The Body in the Zero Gee Brothel
2.0: The Captain Who Broke the Rules
3.0: The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm
…and more to come!
Space Opera Science Fiction Novelette
Enjoy!
December 30, 2021
Big excerpt from THE CAPTAIN WHO BROKE THE RULES
We’re two weeks away from the release of The Captain Who Broke the Rules, Book 2 of the Ptolemy Lane Tales. So here’s a big chunk of the start of the story.
Excerpt
EXCERPT FROM THE CAPTAIN WHO BROKE THE RULES
COPYRIGHT © CAMERON COOPER 2022
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The Captain Who Broke The Rules
On my third day aboard the Jan Mayen Island, I woke to find a memo from Captain Sandor waiting for me to accept delivery.
This is to inform you that at 02.47.45 hours this morning, ship’s time, the following cargo containers with serial numbers registered to your passenger profile were jettisoned.
JMI-1340-9850-AOU0892-GTX
JMI-1340-9850-AOU0893-GTX
JMI-1340-9850-AOU0894-GTX
As a state of emergency was in force at the time, no warranties can be claimed.
Thank you and enjoy the rest of your journey aboard the Jan Mayen Island.
Cptn. D. Sandor
I skipped breakfast. I couldn’t have eaten it, anyway. Instead, I headed for the Courtyard, where the thirty or so passengers on the JMI tended to spend their waking hours, to get away from the cramped quarters. At least you could stretch out your legs in the Courtyard.
I wasn’t there to stretch my legs, though. Not today. My intention was to find out why my cargo had been dumped, and what I could do about it. There was always a senior crew member on hand in the Courtyard. They rotated through concierge duty one after the other, and no one but the Captain herself was exempt.
Thirty seconds in the Courtyard told me mine was not an isolated case. Everyone was bunched around the poor sod of an officer who’d snagged this shift, their voices lifted in protested, demanding their possessions back.
“That was everything I own!”
“We’ve moving to Bryant. How the hell are we supposed to survive on Bryant with nothing? It’s a class three settlement!”
“It took me ninety years to build that collection!”
The officer was a slip of a girl, with a smart board and patience that was wearing thin. I lingered long enough to hear her start to repeat herself, then turned and scanned the Courtyard. The crew common room was on the other side of the Courtyard, through a wide doorway.
I headed over there and was halted at the opening by a sergeant who was only a bit bigger than the girl trying to placate the other passengers, but not as big as me.
He didn’t seem to be bothered by the weight and height differences. “Sorry, this area is for crew only.” He didn’t move a centimeter, not even when I got up close.
“That’s right. I’m looking for the Captain.” I peered over his shoulder and around the common room. It had smaller tables and chairs, the same food printers that were in the Courtyard, and off-duty crew gobbling down breakfast.
Among them I spotted the Captain’s cap of black hair, half-a-head higher than anyone else at her table. “Captain!” I shouted.
She paid no attention. The others at the table were heads-together with her, talking softly.
“Hey, buster, back off!” the sergeant said, gripping my arm. “She don’t need passengers in her face this morning.”
“I’m not in her face,” I pointed out. “I’m right here.” I filled my lungs and bellowed, “Sandor!”
This time, she looked up. The blue eyes narrowed.
The sergeant shook me like a wet rag. This was the reason he was on door duty this morning. They were expecting something like this.
I let him shake and held his gaze.
He stopped but didn’t let go of my arm.
“You think I couldn’t get through you if I wanted?” I asked him. “I’m being polite, but frankly, that’s the most you should expect. I want answers. You jettisoned my freight and it was important to me.”
“Everyone’s freight was important.” He shrugged.
“Not like mine was.”
“I’ve got this, Finlay,” Captain Sandor said, from behind the Sergeant.
I peered around him once more. “Hello Captain.”
She stood close by the nearest table, her arms crossed. “Step around,” she told me. “You get sixty seconds.”
Finlay sighed and waved me through with a disgusted look.
I stepped around, moved over in front of her.
“I gotta hand it to you, Lane,” she told me. “Three days is all it took for you to forget what I said when you came aboard.”
“I haven’t forgotten what you said,” I assured her. “You made an impression.”
The day I’d boarded, I had barely got my duffel stowed in the tiny stateroom when the door announced the Captain was outside, then slid aside to let her in.
She stood just inside the door—which put us barely a meter apart—and crossed her arms as she was now. She had long legs and thrust one of them to the side and measured me. “So you’re Ptolemy Lane.”
I hid my sigh. Lots of people had heard of me, but so far on this trip I’d managed to avoid anyone getting in my face with rumors they’d heard about me, or stories they’d been told that they objected to. “The fringes are getting way too small,” I muttered. “You are…?”
“Sandor,” she said shortly. “Here’s the thing, Lane. You’re used to running your town—”
“It’s Georgina’s Town, not my town,” I corrected her. “And I’m really not the man who runs it.”
“You kick people out. You get to decide who stays and who goes.” Her tone was withering. She stepped a little closer. “You don’t get to decide anything while you’re on my ship. Is that clear?” The single overhead light gleamed in the pitch black of her hair, which was sable smooth, trimmed into a flat cap that accentuated her cheekbones…although I had the feeling she’d cut it to keep it out of the way, and couldn’t give a damn about displaying her cheeks, which were thinned and tight with anger right now.
I raised a brow. “Crystal clear,” I said.
“I don’t like trouble,” she added. “I just want to get my passengers to Abbatangelo.”
“That’s all I’m looking to do,” I told her truthfully. “What have you heard about me, Captain, to make you feel you have to warn me?”
“I’ve heard enough.” She considered me once more. “You are too used to controlling things for yourself. People like you cause problems on a small ship like the Jan Mayen. I’m heading those problems off right now. Behave yourself, Mr. Lane.”
She backed up and raised a hand at the door control. The door opened. She looked at me once more, expectantly.
“I’ll behave myself,” I had told her.
She’d turned and left without another word. And for three days, I had behaved myself as promised. Tossing my cargo broke that agreement, though.
I faced Sandor now and said, “What was the state of emergency?”
“What?”
“The emergency that made you jettison cargo…all the cargo, I’m starting to think.” The voices in the Courtyard were getting louder as more people came to find out why their baggage was gone.
“There is no emergency,” she said with a soothing tone.
“Then you lied about the emergency status to avoid the claims? That makes ejecting the freight even less understandable.”
Her mouth opened. Her eyes narrowed. Then she sank onto the table behind her and stretched out her legs. “There is no emergency,” she repeated. “But there was.”
“And now there isn’t, because you tossed…” I caught my breath as everything clicked into place. “For the speed,” I breathed. “You blew the freight to get better speed.”
The blue eyes were cold. “You know a little about space flight, then.” She sighed. “Enough to be hazardous.” She glanced around, looking for eavesdroppers, which was interesting, given we were in the crew section, among people she was supposed to trust. “I will tell you, Mr. Lane, because I know you will badger me until you get answers that satisfy you. But you cannot share this with anyone. Panic, in a small ship, is contagious. Panicked passengers are dangerous.”
Keeping the passengers ignorant was a backhanded way of protecting them. But she had correctly guessed that I would prod and insist until she told me what was going on. So maybe she was right about that, too. “What was the emergency?”
She hesitated, then said. “There was a slaver ship on our tail.”
I drew in a deep, slow breath, riding out my reaction, my thoughts racing. Sandor didn’t really have to say much else. I could figure it all out from there. The fringes were full of murderers, thieves, pirates and con artists of every stripe. Slavers put all of them to shame. They were the moldy edges of the underbelly of Terran territories. They attacked ships out in space, where the ship was cut off and vulnerable. They would plant a reactor-killer in the engine room while the ship was still in dock, then following them through space until the killer fired, bringing the ship to a body-smearing halt. They would board, scrape the ship of anyone still alive, and take them back to the pleasure domes in the Galxinayah quadrant.
Of the thousands of people taken by slavers, only a half dozen had ever escaped the domes. Those six survivors had revealed the truth about slavery in the domes, which went well beyond sex service. Experimental surgery. Mutilations, gladiator fights, target practice, hunting safaris. Whatever a customer wanted and could afford, they got, no matter how sick or perverted.
It was unusual for slaver ships to operate in this quadrant, although they obeyed no rules but their own. Maybe they were sizing up the neighborhood, preparing to move onto virgin territories ripe with new slaves.
A slaver ship on our asses could only mean that this ship had been targeted. And Sandor had dumped the cargo to increase her speed.
Interstellar flight was dictated by a ruthless equation involving the limits of speed, mass, inertia and the amount of energy the ship could carry with it. You could have more of one if you gave up one of the others, but you couldn’t have all of them. Neither could you veer outside the lane to your destination because that would use up fuel you didn’t have and guarantee you didn’t make it.
Sandor had given up mass, to gain speed. As she considered the emergency over, she had gained enough speed to pull away from the slaver, which was bound by the same immoveable laws.
“You found the reactor-killer, then,” I said.
Sandor frowned. “We will.” She got to her feet. “Your sixty seconds are up, Mr. Lane. Please return to the passenger section of the ship.”
“You’re breaking the rules.”
She tilted her head. “Rules?”
I nodded. “Didn’t they tell you it would be smarter to stand down, let them board and take their pick of the passengers, and preserve your ship and crew?”
Her face worked. Anger glittered in her eyes. “No captain would ever—”
“They all do,” I assured her. “They tell good tales about surviving by the skin of their teeth. They all lie, and the owners of their ships pat them on the head for it. But you’re not doing that. Why is that?”
Her jaw worked. “None of your business. Good day, Mr. Lane.”
The next bit of the puzzle dropped into place in my mind with a nearly audible click. “You have a history with them…” I breathed.
Sandor sank back down onto the edge of the table. The blue of her eyes was stormy. With another quick check around for observers, she reached up and pulled aside the open neck of her uniform tunic, to reveal the flesh over her heart. It was scarred with jagged pink ridges, radiating out from a white divot that was nearly circular.
“A governor,” I said and swallowed. The governors were devices implanted over the heart and attached to the nervous system. It made the dome slaves compliant and delivered pain when they weren’t. The only way to remove a governor without a fully equipped surgery was to tear them out, roots and all, then thrust white hot metal against the wound to cauterize it before you bled out.
It left a distinct scar like the one Sandor had on her chest.
“You’re one of the six,” I said.
“Is that what I am?” She let the tunic drop back over the scar.
“How long were you in the domes?”
“Long enough.” She put her hands together, an oddly peaceful gesture. “Twenty-three years. Then I got lucky.”
I wondered how much luck was involved. Twenty-three years was longer than most survived the domes. She had a powerful will to survive. It gave her the ruthlessness necessary to blow a ship full of passenger cargo and probably her paying freight, too.
“So you see, I won’t stand by and let them take their pick,” she added, her tone conversational. But there was a glitter in her eyes that belied the tone. “And I don’t give a damn what you think, Mr. Lane.”
“You don’t like me.” I only now recognized the distaste making her mouth curl.
“It’s nothing personal.”
“I think it is,” I countered. “I’ve never met you, but you have already decided you don’t like me. I don’t think it is just my reputation for stirring up trouble.”
“You have far too much personal power, Mr. Lane, which I think is dangerous in the fringes. Too much power in one set of hands leads to misery.”
“Depends on who is holding it.”
“Not really.” Her tone was very cool. “Not long after I got this—” and her hand touched the tunic over the scar, “I applied for a resident ticket in Georgina’s Town. Everyone says it is peaceful there. That you don’t have to look over your shoulder all the time.” She shrugged.
Now I got it. “You were turned down.”
Her eyes were cold as she stared at me.
“Who gets to live in Georgina’s Town…that’s not my decision. I don’t even get a say in it. I’m paid to keep the peace among the folks who live there, that’s all.”
“I think you’re selling yourself short, Mr. Lane. I think you have far more power than you claim.”
“Let me help you find the reactor-killer,” I countered.
“Why? To demonstrate you’re a nice guy?” Her tone conveyed how inadequate such a gesture would be.
I didn’t get to answer her because a no-striper came running up, sweat making his temples glisten and staining the shirt under his arms. “Captain! Sir! Captain…”
He was shaking, his eyes wide as he stared at the captain. I don’t think he even noticed me standing there.
“What is it, Jardine?” Sandor got to her feet. She was tall, but not skinny.
“Sir, it’s Sahak! He’s…” Jardine swallowed and leaned toward her, his face pale. “He’s been eaten!” he mumbled.
Ptolemy Jovan Lane meets his next adventure.Lane’s personal cargo is jettisoned while traveling back to Georgina’s Town after the death of a friend. Lane confronts Captain Sandor and learns the ship is being pursued by slavers. Captain Sandor’s response to the disaster is anything but typical. Nor is she above roping in Lane to help…
“The Captain Who Broke The Rules” is the second Ptolemy Lane space opera science fiction story by award-winning SF author Cameron Cooper.
The Ptolemy Lane Tales:
1.0: The Body in the Zero Gee Brothel
2.0: The Captain Who Broke the Rules
3.0: The Maker of Widowmakers’ Arm
…and more to come!
Space Opera Science Fiction Novelette
And don’t forget that if you pre-order the book direct from me, you get it a week earlier than you would if you buy it from the other retail sites.
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December 2, 2021
Fun with old pulp-style covers — you can make your own, too
Another SF author, Michéle LaFramboise, who is also in the upcoming Space Opera Digest from Stories Rule Press (I’ll give you more details about that another day), told me about the coolest site I’ve run across lately.
The Pulp-O-Mizer generates old pulp-style covers that you can customize with your own text, and make choices about headings and artwork to arrive at something unique.
I built a cover for Hammer and Crucible:
I just love the feel of this cover! It’s so fun and nostalgic. Of course, I can’t use it for anything but this blog and email, as the site is for non-commercial use.
You can also create square covers, which suit Facebook and other social networks, too.
Have fun with it!
And today, The Imperial Hammer Series Boxed Set is released everywhere, which includes Hammer and Crucible as the first book.
The full, best-selling Imperial Hammer series in one set.Binge read the acclaimed space opera series featuring ex-Imperial Ranger Danny Andela and her friends and family, as they face a unique and deadly threat to the Empire, one that will tax their strength, drain their hearts and force them toward a bleak future…
Buy the whole series in this one set and save almost 50% on the cost of buying all of them individually!
It’s full of action from beginning to end. – Reader review.
The Imperial Hammer series:
1.0: Hammer and Crucible
1.1: An Average Night on Androkles
2.0: Star Forge
3.0: Long Live the Emperor
4.0: Severed
5.0: Destroyer of Worlds
5.5: The Imperial Hammer Series Box Set
Space Opera Science Fiction Novel
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November 29, 2021
Cyber Monday SRP Sale — **40% Off Everything**
This month, as the start of the normal monthly Stories Rule Press sale starts on Cyber Monday, we’re going with the flow and offering you a coupon for 40% off, instead of the usual 20% off.
Copy this coupon code: YMKCQJUS
Then head over to Stories Rule Press to browse the available titles: https://storiesrulepress.com/shop/. You can also sort and filter the books to find exactly what you want.
Use the coupon when you checkout, to get your 40% off.
The discount applies to absolutely everything — boxed sets, books already on sale, pre-orders, the lot.
The coupon will only work for books bought from Stories Rule Press.
And the sale, as usual, only lasts for four days; the last two of November and the first two of December. It closes at midnight MDT on December 2nd.
Enjoy your shopping!
Cam, and the authors at Stories Rule Press.
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