Marjorie F. Baldwin's Blog, page 2
March 27, 2013
Launched the #Kickstarter at http://kck.st/RaifStory Come Support the new #SciFi #Novel in the #PhoenicianSeries
At long last, the Kickstarter Project for Raif's Story has launched! After just a few hours on the first day, funding is at 5% but that leaves a lot of crowd yet to come!
Please come join the crowd funding the next novel in the Phoenician Series by clicking here. There are multiple pledge amounts from which to choose but they'll all do the same thing: help make Raif's Story a reality!
The idea behind crowdfunding is simple: when you have a crowd of people, even if each person only pledges a small amount ($10, $25, etc.), if there are enough people in the crowd, there's enough fudning to move the project forward.
I plan to write to several of you directly, asking for your help, but I really need help getting the word out to people I don't already know. If you can retweet, reshare or reblog this post, I'd really appreciate it. And that won't cost you any money at all!
Then again, if you're rich and really believe in the Phoenician Series, you can pledge one of the highest levels of support and get written into the book! For a pledge of $1500 you can be Redshirted. That is, I'll name a Proctor character after you and then kill you, just like a member of the Away Team's Security on Star Trek.
I have the scene already written and just stuck some placeholder notes in there for myself, using "[unnamed Proctor]" to indicate where I still need to decide what to call the poor blokes who'll die so that Shayla might live. You'll die a valiant death for her sake, I can promise you that. I can even offer to collaborate with you to some extent on which one of the planned Proctor deaths will be yours. Only one death is already written: Lawrence, Raif's friend and bunkmate. You cannot be him. Unless your name is Lawrence? ^)^
I'm offering some nice rewards: T shirts and posters of the cover art and bookmarks and even coffee mugs. and best of all, everyone gets a copy of the book! Click through to pledge your support for however much you can then share the link (http://kck.st/RaifStory) with your friends, family, coworkers or anyone you know who might be interested in science fiction.
Only 28 days left to go - let's get this party started!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
March 26, 2013
Launched the #Kickstarter at http://kck.st/RaifStory Come Support the new #SciFi #Novel in the #PhoenicianSeries
At long last, the Kickstarter Project for Raif's Story has launched! You can come join the fun by clicking here. There are multiple pledge amounts from which to choose but they'll all do the same thing: help make Raif's Story a reality!There are multiple pledge levels but the idea behind crowdfunding is simple: even if everyone only pledges small amounts ($10, $25, $60), if there are enough people in the crowd pledging support, the project gets enough funding to move forward.
My project goal amount is $5,500. Within moments of launching, one supporter had pledged $10. That leaves $5,490 for you--well, less, actually, because a couple of others have already pledged, too.
I plan to write to several of you directly, asking for your help, but I really need help getting the word out to people I don't already know. If you can retweet, reshare or reblog this post, I'd really appreciate it. And that won't cost you any money at all!
Then again, if you're rich and really believe in the Phoenician Series, you can pledge one of the highest levels of support and get written into the book! For a pledge of $1500 you can be Redshirted. That is, I'll name a Proctor character after you and then kill you, just like a member of the Away Team's Security on Star Trek.
I have the scene already written and just stuck some placeholder notes in there for myself, using "[unnamed Proctor]" to indicate where I still need to decide what to call the poor blokes who'll die so that Shayla might live. You'll die a valiant death for her sake, I can promise you that. I can even offer to collaborate with you to some extent on which one of the planned Proctor deaths will be yours. Only one death is already written: Lawrence, Raif's friend and bunkmate. You cannot be him. Unless your name is Lawrence? ^)^
Since not everyone is rich, there are plenty of "in between" pledge tiers you can choose from, too. I'm offering T shirts and posters of the cover art and bookmarks and even coffee mugs. Click through to see what kinds of rewards I dreamed up or better yet, pledge however much you can and request a new reward on the comments page for backers. You never know if you don't ask, but I might be willing to define a new reward based on readership demand.
Kickstarter has presets for the rewards based on what I dreamed up but you can also just write in your own amount if you like. All that really matters is that you pledge your support--even if it's just $1 it'll make a difference (to me!)
Thank you!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
March 13, 2013
#Kickstarter Planning Update #PhoenicianSeries #indie #SciFi
Got a little update on my Kickstarter Rewards after doing a lot of web research and sourcing the manufacture of custom plush toys made from a cartoon. Click through the jump break to read an update to the Councillor-Level Tier description, then let me know what you think of this. Who knew a Gorthon Worm plush toy could cause so much trouble? Well, there is a reason everyone hates Gorthon Worms ^)^
*The available number of the Councillor-level reward tiers is based on the available number of Council Seats and may change at any time should a Councillor be assassinated. Accidents do seem to happen in The Phoenician Series.
$300 – Junior Councillor (50*)
The Privilege Class tier plus a Gorthon Worm Plush Toy based on a cartoon I will draw. The Gorthon Worm Plush Toy will be grey in color with glowing (hopefully neon/glow-in-the-dark) eyes and have eight – yep, count ‘em, 8! – heads just like a real live Gorthon Worm. It will not, however, be capable of burrowing through the sand.
PLAN A: The fulfillment of the plush toy reward is contingent upon my sourcing an affordable place to make them. Unfortunately, my researching into over 2 dozen potential sources for this manufacturing of a custom plush toy from a cartoon drawing has resulted in discovering that typically, there is a minimum run requirement of 500-1000 products plus a prototyping stage that costs several hundred dollars for the first one. What would I do with 500 or 1000 Gorthon Worms??? The mere image of a boxful of writhing plush toys with all those glowing eyes (aiyyyeee!)
The two best candidates are
1) Happy Softies (http://www.happysofties.com/) out of Kogarah, Sydney, Australia. These folks handmake each toy individually. They don’t come cheap but at least they don’t come in lots of 1000. These folks are my top choice but their costs will run close to $100 once all is said and done. That’s why this is only offered to the $300 pledges.
2) Custom Plush Toys (http://www.customplushtoys.com/) out of New York, NY and Ontario, Canada but they require a minimum of 900 toys per design. I say again (aiyyyeee!)
The biggest problem I’m having finding a plush toy maker isn’t even the minimum run requirement; it’s the location of the company. I flat-out refuse to buy toys from China or fund anything “Made in China” or supporting factories or industries in China. The two choices listed are the only ones who seem to do even reasonably good work without funding an economic and political enemy of the United States of America. I like the idea of supporting a small business and handcrafted arts so Happy Softies is my top choice. No clue if they can accommodate this order though.
CONTINGENCY PLAN B - DELAYS LIKELY: There is also the option of my making the toys myself. I am quite the sewing maven. However, that would take a significant amount of time to do and take away from writing the book or editing the book so it would have to be added on at the end and only if people who pledge this tier are willing to add a month or more delay to the receipt of their plush toy Gorthon Worm. It might be worth more if it’s handmade by the author, though, right?
CONTINGENCY PLAN C – NO DELAYS: The plush toy will be substituted with a coffee mug with the Gorthon Worm design that I will draw printed on one side of the mug with the words “More Heads Means More Caffeine!” under the Gorthon Worm image and the words “Eight Heads Are Better Than One” on the opposite side.
$500 - Senior Councillor (25*)
The Junior Councillor tier plus a poster-sized print of the original cartooned artwork of the Gorthon Worm that I will draw. I will sign the poster print for you (personalized however you like).
*The available number of the Councillor-level reward tiers is based on the available number of Council Seats and may change at any time should a Councillor be assassinated. Accidents do seem to happen in The Phoenician Series.
$300 – Junior Councillor (50*)
The Privilege Class tier plus a Gorthon Worm Plush Toy based on a cartoon I will draw. The Gorthon Worm Plush Toy will be grey in color with glowing (hopefully neon/glow-in-the-dark) eyes and have eight – yep, count ‘em, 8! – heads just like a real live Gorthon Worm. It will not, however, be capable of burrowing through the sand.
PLAN A: The fulfillment of the plush toy reward is contingent upon my sourcing an affordable place to make them. Unfortunately, my researching into over 2 dozen potential sources for this manufacturing of a custom plush toy from a cartoon drawing has resulted in discovering that typically, there is a minimum run requirement of 500-1000 products plus a prototyping stage that costs several hundred dollars for the first one. What would I do with 500 or 1000 Gorthon Worms??? The mere image of a boxful of writhing plush toys with all those glowing eyes (aiyyyeee!)
The two best candidates are
1) Happy Softies (http://www.happysofties.com/) out of Kogarah, Sydney, Australia. These folks handmake each toy individually. They don’t come cheap but at least they don’t come in lots of 1000. These folks are my top choice but their costs will run close to $100 once all is said and done. That’s why this is only offered to the $300 pledges.
2) Custom Plush Toys (http://www.customplushtoys.com/) out of New York, NY and Ontario, Canada but they require a minimum of 900 toys per design. I say again (aiyyyeee!)
The biggest problem I’m having finding a plush toy maker isn’t even the minimum run requirement; it’s the location of the company. I flat-out refuse to buy toys from China or fund anything “Made in China” or supporting factories or industries in China. The two choices listed are the only ones who seem to do even reasonably good work without funding an economic and political enemy of the United States of America. I like the idea of supporting a small business and handcrafted arts so Happy Softies is my top choice. No clue if they can accommodate this order though.
CONTINGENCY PLAN B - DELAYS LIKELY: There is also the option of my making the toys myself. I am quite the sewing maven. However, that would take a significant amount of time to do and take away from writing the book or editing the book so it would have to be added on at the end and only if people who pledge this tier are willing to add a month or more delay to the receipt of their plush toy Gorthon Worm. It might be worth more if it’s handmade by the author, though, right?
CONTINGENCY PLAN C – NO DELAYS: The plush toy will be substituted with a coffee mug with the Gorthon Worm design that I will draw printed on one side of the mug with the words “More Heads Means More Caffeine!” under the Gorthon Worm image and the words “Eight Heads Are Better Than One” on the opposite side.
$500 - Senior Councillor (25*)
The Junior Councillor tier plus a poster-sized print of the original cartooned artwork of the Gorthon Worm that I will draw. I will sign the poster print for you (personalized however you like).
March 11, 2013
#Kickstarter for new #ebook in #PhoenicianSeries? #indie #selfpub #mywana
I'm thinking about setting up a Kickstarter project to fund the new book in the Phoenician Series. I've been looking over the "Kickstarter School" links and I could probably come up with some good ones in the $10, $25, $100 amounts, not sure if I can come up with a $500 or $1000 reward but would love to create one since I do actually know a handful of people who might make such a donation, given the opportunity and incentive ^)^ I'm not sure I can create a good video but I definitely could see this book being defined as a Kickstarter project. I'd only be able to give it 30-60 days to get funded, though, and I won't be able to guarantee production unless or until the project is fully-funded.
I'm posting this blog (so it will propagate to Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads and Amazon) in the hopes of getting some feedback from my existing readers and fans. I'm fairly sure I have between 50 and 100 "True Fans" but I suppose this will be a "true test" of that belief. LOL
Please contact me wherever you can to share your thoughts on this idea, though I prefer @phoenicianbooks on Twitter. If you don't like any of those social network options, you can always reach me via marjoriefbaldwin at my gmail.com email box.
I want to know what you think! If I'm going to do this, I'll need to do it soon (my lease where I'm living runs out this spring and I'll be moving ... somewhere this Memorial Day Weekend). If even only 50 people pledge, I could see this project getting funded. I'll have to use real numbers, though, and not "absorb costs" on anything, the way I have always done in the past. Wow, what an idea, actually getting paid for producing a book! I might just set a new standard in Indie Publishing!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
I'm posting this blog (so it will propagate to Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads and Amazon) in the hopes of getting some feedback from my existing readers and fans. I'm fairly sure I have between 50 and 100 "True Fans" but I suppose this will be a "true test" of that belief. LOL
Please contact me wherever you can to share your thoughts on this idea, though I prefer @phoenicianbooks on Twitter. If you don't like any of those social network options, you can always reach me via marjoriefbaldwin at my gmail.com email box.
I want to know what you think! If I'm going to do this, I'll need to do it soon (my lease where I'm living runs out this spring and I'll be moving ... somewhere this Memorial Day Weekend). If even only 50 people pledge, I could see this project getting funded. I'll have to use real numbers, though, and not "absorb costs" on anything, the way I have always done in the past. Wow, what an idea, actually getting paid for producing a book! I might just set a new standard in Indie Publishing!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
March 6, 2013
1400 old words #Snippet from the new #PhoenicianSeries #novel
The following snippet (after the jump-break) was material written in 2008 and posted to Authonomy but removed to be edited then set aside when I focused, instead, on completing
Conditioned Response
. Raif is such a great character. I'm loving writing his book and I do love reading my own work. I hope you do, too.
These 1400 or so words fall at the beginning of a new chapter near the beginning of the book, right after Dramond and Raif and the rest of Dramond's Proctor team have returned from "collecting" Shayla (she's only 14 years old back then, remember) and she is the "prisoner." During the excursion to get her, a greenhorn Proctor was killed. This is the aftermath.
In the hangar of the Council Office building, Azzi, the last member of their primary team waited with Ronen, two gurneys hovering between them. Ronen supervised Lawrence and Collier, escorting the "prisoner" up to the second floor, Security, Room Four. Azzi tried to help Raif with the body of the young Proctor but met with enough opposition, he settled for simply providing Raif an escort down to sublevel one, Medtech.
When the doors to Medtech slid apart, the smells hit Raif hard. The room wreaked of death, a mixture of anti-septics with blood and sweat. He would have thought he'd be used to it by now, but with the greenhorn lying dead next to his hand, the human effluvia was too much to dismiss. He allowed Azzi to help guide the gurney into an open spot in a row of six gurneys, each with a dead body on it, all wearing grey uniforms. There were likewise half a dozen men in long white lab coats milling about the gurneys, but only the sounds of clanking equipment broke through the deathly silence in the room. Raif knew it wasn't out of deference to the dead or attentiveness to the work. It was an attempt to get through the unpleasantries more quickly by not tarrying in conversation. A Medtech learned the routine of autopsy by rote after a few weeks on the job.
There was one live Proctor here for purposes of receiving medical attention, sitting with a Medtech at the far end of the long room. Raif noticed the attending Medtech was his friend, Jared, the Drug Lord of the building. He'd need to talk to him later today, to get some kind of assistance for the prisoner, assuming Dramond held true to form and authorized none himself.
Raif stood over the gurney with the fallen greenhorn while Singh, the senior Medtech, came over to check it in and start the paperwork. Singh pulled up one eyelid on the body and scanned the retina, then held the display out to Raif.
"Identity confirmed?" Singh asked him.
Raif glanced at the display and took in the number identifying the as-yet-unnamed Proctor. He whispered, "Rene-Michel." It was Councillor Dramond's first name but from this point forward, in Raif's mind, the name would always belong to the dead Proctor in front of him.
Singh looked up at him accusingly. "What did you just say?"
"He had a name. Rene-Michel."
Impatiently, the man in the white coat asked, "Is this his number or not?" Raif gave the Medtech a dirty look then looked back at the dead greenhorn without giving an answer. "Look, Sergeant," Singh persisted, "I've got a full house here, in case you didn't notice. Can we move this along?"
Raif snapped at him, "Singh, if you want to speed things up, you'll stop arguing with me. His name was Rene-Michel. Do you actually need me to spell that name for you?"
The Medtech shook his head and tapped at the display in his hand. "Identity confirmed. C-O-D?"
"No good reason." Raif mumbled.
"So, you just felt like it?"
Now Raif glared at the Medtech. "What? I didn't do this!"
"That's not how I heard it." Singh told him in flat tones.
"What are you--"
Azzi stopped Raif and turned his back to the Medtech to whisper, "That's the report Dramond filed, Raif."
"What are you talking about?"
Azzi leaned closer to Raif. "Dramond's pinning this on you. He filed the report before you even got back. Just call it insubordination and let the doc close his file."
"Whose idea was this?" Raif turned to Singh, "Yours?"
The man in the white coat held up a hand and shook his head. "I just take the orders as I get them, Raif. I need a cause of death. You got a preference?"
Raif started to move towards the man in the white coat and Azzi pushed gently at Raif's shoulders to stop him.
Raif spoke around him at the Medtech, "Yeah, I've got a preference. He was pushed off a cliff after willingly submitting to torture. How's that C-O-D strike you, Singh?"
Without missing a beat, the Medtech tapped at his pad and went on in businesslike fashion, "And the cause for the disciplinary action?"
Azzi turned around and told him, before Raif could answer again, "Singh, just put insubordination, and give us the damned pad."
"I'm not signing that." Raif told Azzi and went on to the senior Medtech. "You can't do that to him, Singh. You can't enter it that way. You're supposed to be a Medtech. You haven't even examined him."
"Well, I'm just a record keeper today. No time for exams." He gave his display a final tap and pulled another pad out of his pocket, clicked it onto the side of the display and held the pair out to Raif in both hands, expectant look on his face. "Signature, please?"
Raif glanced down at the display. Singh had recorded the greenhorn's number--no name--and put "Resisting disciplinary action for insubordination" in the block labeled "C-O-D."
When Raif kept staring and didn't move to put his hand out, Azzi moved to put his own hand down on the large pad to be scanned. "I'll sign it." Azzi said quietly.
Singh pulled the dual pad back before Azzi could press down and insisted, "No! I'm supposed to get his signature."
Azzi withdrew his hand and told Singh, "Look, if you know what's good for you, don't be so picky--or you won't live to regret it."
Singh didn't offer Azzi the signature pad. "Councillor Dramond was very specific, it's to be your signature, Raif."
Raif grabbed the two-piece unit and turned his back to Singh as he started revising the record. The Medtech tried to reach around him to retrieve it and Raif's right elbow came up into his solar plexus then his left fist cut across the Medtech's jaw, knocking him to the floor. Raif turned his back again and resumed his quick tapping on the datapad. The Medtech, on the floor, was trying to move his jaw while giving Raif's back a cold stare. Azzi crouched down in front of him.
"Don't push your luck," Azzi warned Singh quietly, "it would've been easier for him to just break your neck and kill you to change the record. Don't worry. I'll witness your effort to Councillor Dramond."
Raif annotated the number with the name and revised the C-O-D to read "Fall from height of approx. 500 meters after sustaining extended application of shock stick. No aggressive action observed prior to fall. No physical evidence to suggest legal cause for stun by Councillor Dramond. No witnesses to alleged assault on the Councillor's person." It wasn't quite the full truth but it was as close as he dared make it for today. He put his own number and those of Ronen and Lawrence into three of the slots for eye witnesses then pressed his hand onto the large pad to sign the report. He tapped a few more times, locking the record and filing it, then turned around and looked down at the Medtech. Singh was still on the floor, holding a hand across his torso, still trying to catch his breath.
Raif pulled the two units apart and tossed them into the Medtech's lap. "There you go, Singh. All signed, sealed and delivered. And don't you ever try to railroad me again."
Raif started towards the door and Singh called out after him, "You and Dramond deserve each other!"
Raif stopped in the open doorway but didn't turn around. He shook his head and continued on into the hallway. Outside, he took just a few steps from the doorway and leaned back against the wall of the dark hallway. Azzi was on his heels.
"So what did you end up putting down, Raif?"
"The truth--or most of it."
"You know Dramond's gonna let you have it for that? He wanted you to sign it the way Singh wrote it up."
"Why doesn't he just kill me now and be done with it?"
"You can't mean that."
Raif looked up from the floor and glared at Azzi. "What do you care? You've been waiting for a promotion. With me out of your way, you'd have it tomorrow. I know there's no love between us, Azzi."
"I don't want your job, Raif. I'm just trying to keep my own."
"He told you to see to it that I signed that lie? And you were ready to sign it yourself, weren't you?"
"He just wanted it filed the way Singh had it. He didn't specify who should sign it--or not to me. Maybe he told Singh it had to be you. I dunno. It wasn't in my orders. Look, Raif..." Azzi took a deep breath and went on more gravely, "you're due upstairs. He's waiting for you."
Raif checked the time on his comm unit. Thirteen fifty-five. "He's got an appointment at fourteen hundred."
"Yeah, you. You're his appointment at fourteen hundred."
"What?"
Azzi sighed this time. "If you didn't sign it or wouldn't let me...it doesn't matter. You're on report as of right now. He gave me those orders before you even got back into the hangar. I'm supposed to take you up to see him now--and please don't make me use force. We'll both end up hurt."
"Or one of us dead, more likely. You really have no conscience at all, do you, Azzi?"
Azzi tipped his head back defiantly. "I have a stronger interest in living. It's nothing personal, Raif. I'm just following orders."
Raif stood up from the wall. "No, you'd have to be a person for it to be something personal."
"I thought you said these names made us a person." Azzi wasn't quite hateful but made his resentment clear enough.
"Apparently, it doesn't work on everyone. Well, let's go, Proctor. After all, you've got your orders."
#
Thanks for stopping by!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
These 1400 or so words fall at the beginning of a new chapter near the beginning of the book, right after Dramond and Raif and the rest of Dramond's Proctor team have returned from "collecting" Shayla (she's only 14 years old back then, remember) and she is the "prisoner." During the excursion to get her, a greenhorn Proctor was killed. This is the aftermath.
In the hangar of the Council Office building, Azzi, the last member of their primary team waited with Ronen, two gurneys hovering between them. Ronen supervised Lawrence and Collier, escorting the "prisoner" up to the second floor, Security, Room Four. Azzi tried to help Raif with the body of the young Proctor but met with enough opposition, he settled for simply providing Raif an escort down to sublevel one, Medtech.
When the doors to Medtech slid apart, the smells hit Raif hard. The room wreaked of death, a mixture of anti-septics with blood and sweat. He would have thought he'd be used to it by now, but with the greenhorn lying dead next to his hand, the human effluvia was too much to dismiss. He allowed Azzi to help guide the gurney into an open spot in a row of six gurneys, each with a dead body on it, all wearing grey uniforms. There were likewise half a dozen men in long white lab coats milling about the gurneys, but only the sounds of clanking equipment broke through the deathly silence in the room. Raif knew it wasn't out of deference to the dead or attentiveness to the work. It was an attempt to get through the unpleasantries more quickly by not tarrying in conversation. A Medtech learned the routine of autopsy by rote after a few weeks on the job.
There was one live Proctor here for purposes of receiving medical attention, sitting with a Medtech at the far end of the long room. Raif noticed the attending Medtech was his friend, Jared, the Drug Lord of the building. He'd need to talk to him later today, to get some kind of assistance for the prisoner, assuming Dramond held true to form and authorized none himself.
Raif stood over the gurney with the fallen greenhorn while Singh, the senior Medtech, came over to check it in and start the paperwork. Singh pulled up one eyelid on the body and scanned the retina, then held the display out to Raif.
"Identity confirmed?" Singh asked him.
Raif glanced at the display and took in the number identifying the as-yet-unnamed Proctor. He whispered, "Rene-Michel." It was Councillor Dramond's first name but from this point forward, in Raif's mind, the name would always belong to the dead Proctor in front of him.
Singh looked up at him accusingly. "What did you just say?"
"He had a name. Rene-Michel."
Impatiently, the man in the white coat asked, "Is this his number or not?" Raif gave the Medtech a dirty look then looked back at the dead greenhorn without giving an answer. "Look, Sergeant," Singh persisted, "I've got a full house here, in case you didn't notice. Can we move this along?"
Raif snapped at him, "Singh, if you want to speed things up, you'll stop arguing with me. His name was Rene-Michel. Do you actually need me to spell that name for you?"
The Medtech shook his head and tapped at the display in his hand. "Identity confirmed. C-O-D?"
"No good reason." Raif mumbled.
"So, you just felt like it?"
Now Raif glared at the Medtech. "What? I didn't do this!"
"That's not how I heard it." Singh told him in flat tones.
"What are you--"
Azzi stopped Raif and turned his back to the Medtech to whisper, "That's the report Dramond filed, Raif."
"What are you talking about?"
Azzi leaned closer to Raif. "Dramond's pinning this on you. He filed the report before you even got back. Just call it insubordination and let the doc close his file."
"Whose idea was this?" Raif turned to Singh, "Yours?"
The man in the white coat held up a hand and shook his head. "I just take the orders as I get them, Raif. I need a cause of death. You got a preference?"
Raif started to move towards the man in the white coat and Azzi pushed gently at Raif's shoulders to stop him.
Raif spoke around him at the Medtech, "Yeah, I've got a preference. He was pushed off a cliff after willingly submitting to torture. How's that C-O-D strike you, Singh?"
Without missing a beat, the Medtech tapped at his pad and went on in businesslike fashion, "And the cause for the disciplinary action?"
Azzi turned around and told him, before Raif could answer again, "Singh, just put insubordination, and give us the damned pad."
"I'm not signing that." Raif told Azzi and went on to the senior Medtech. "You can't do that to him, Singh. You can't enter it that way. You're supposed to be a Medtech. You haven't even examined him."
"Well, I'm just a record keeper today. No time for exams." He gave his display a final tap and pulled another pad out of his pocket, clicked it onto the side of the display and held the pair out to Raif in both hands, expectant look on his face. "Signature, please?"
Raif glanced down at the display. Singh had recorded the greenhorn's number--no name--and put "Resisting disciplinary action for insubordination" in the block labeled "C-O-D."
When Raif kept staring and didn't move to put his hand out, Azzi moved to put his own hand down on the large pad to be scanned. "I'll sign it." Azzi said quietly.
Singh pulled the dual pad back before Azzi could press down and insisted, "No! I'm supposed to get his signature."
Azzi withdrew his hand and told Singh, "Look, if you know what's good for you, don't be so picky--or you won't live to regret it."
Singh didn't offer Azzi the signature pad. "Councillor Dramond was very specific, it's to be your signature, Raif."
Raif grabbed the two-piece unit and turned his back to Singh as he started revising the record. The Medtech tried to reach around him to retrieve it and Raif's right elbow came up into his solar plexus then his left fist cut across the Medtech's jaw, knocking him to the floor. Raif turned his back again and resumed his quick tapping on the datapad. The Medtech, on the floor, was trying to move his jaw while giving Raif's back a cold stare. Azzi crouched down in front of him.
"Don't push your luck," Azzi warned Singh quietly, "it would've been easier for him to just break your neck and kill you to change the record. Don't worry. I'll witness your effort to Councillor Dramond."
Raif annotated the number with the name and revised the C-O-D to read "Fall from height of approx. 500 meters after sustaining extended application of shock stick. No aggressive action observed prior to fall. No physical evidence to suggest legal cause for stun by Councillor Dramond. No witnesses to alleged assault on the Councillor's person." It wasn't quite the full truth but it was as close as he dared make it for today. He put his own number and those of Ronen and Lawrence into three of the slots for eye witnesses then pressed his hand onto the large pad to sign the report. He tapped a few more times, locking the record and filing it, then turned around and looked down at the Medtech. Singh was still on the floor, holding a hand across his torso, still trying to catch his breath.
Raif pulled the two units apart and tossed them into the Medtech's lap. "There you go, Singh. All signed, sealed and delivered. And don't you ever try to railroad me again."
Raif started towards the door and Singh called out after him, "You and Dramond deserve each other!"
Raif stopped in the open doorway but didn't turn around. He shook his head and continued on into the hallway. Outside, he took just a few steps from the doorway and leaned back against the wall of the dark hallway. Azzi was on his heels.
"So what did you end up putting down, Raif?"
"The truth--or most of it."
"You know Dramond's gonna let you have it for that? He wanted you to sign it the way Singh wrote it up."
"Why doesn't he just kill me now and be done with it?"
"You can't mean that."
Raif looked up from the floor and glared at Azzi. "What do you care? You've been waiting for a promotion. With me out of your way, you'd have it tomorrow. I know there's no love between us, Azzi."
"I don't want your job, Raif. I'm just trying to keep my own."
"He told you to see to it that I signed that lie? And you were ready to sign it yourself, weren't you?"
"He just wanted it filed the way Singh had it. He didn't specify who should sign it--or not to me. Maybe he told Singh it had to be you. I dunno. It wasn't in my orders. Look, Raif..." Azzi took a deep breath and went on more gravely, "you're due upstairs. He's waiting for you."
Raif checked the time on his comm unit. Thirteen fifty-five. "He's got an appointment at fourteen hundred."
"Yeah, you. You're his appointment at fourteen hundred."
"What?"
Azzi sighed this time. "If you didn't sign it or wouldn't let me...it doesn't matter. You're on report as of right now. He gave me those orders before you even got back into the hangar. I'm supposed to take you up to see him now--and please don't make me use force. We'll both end up hurt."
"Or one of us dead, more likely. You really have no conscience at all, do you, Azzi?"
Azzi tipped his head back defiantly. "I have a stronger interest in living. It's nothing personal, Raif. I'm just following orders."
Raif stood up from the wall. "No, you'd have to be a person for it to be something personal."
"I thought you said these names made us a person." Azzi wasn't quite hateful but made his resentment clear enough.
"Apparently, it doesn't work on everyone. Well, let's go, Proctor. After all, you've got your orders."
#
Thanks for stopping by!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
March 3, 2013
Read an eBook Week 2013 Kicks off at Smashwords!
It's READ AN EBOOK WEEK at Smashwords and books are going on sale like crazy! I've got my two on sale for deeeeep discounts as follows:
Read the Phoenician Series in order:
Use code RW100 at checkout to get When Minds Collide for free
Buy Link: http://bit.ly/WMC-Smash
Use code REW50 at checkout to get the long novel Conditioned Response for 50% off
Buy Link: http://bit.ly/SW-CondResp
The sale is site-wide and the codes automatically expire at midnight (Pacific Time) next Saturday March 9th so if you don't own the books yet, get 'em now for cheap while you can. The new book (which falls in between these two) is coming soon!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
March 2, 2013
Soliciting Readers for Outline in PHOENICIAN SERIES
See the post on Facebook for details:
http://www.facebook.com/fridaybaldwin/posts/221927807947326
I've just finished the outline for Raif's Story (Book 1 in The Phoenician Series) and want one additional reader (already have 2) to review the outline and give me feedback on how the book "sounds" from the outline. This book will fall in between WMC and CR so you should have already read both of those previously. You'll need to give feedback on how it relates to both of those stories.
NOTE: Thsi is not a book; it's an outline. Cannot stress that enough! This is not "reading for pleasure" but helping me with the work of creating a new book.
If you're interested and available this weekend, please see the Facebook post for where and how to volunteer. The deadline for feedback is Monday March 4th at 1800 EST so if you aren't around this weekend, it's probably not the gig for you.
Thanks!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
http://www.facebook.com/fridaybaldwin/posts/221927807947326
I've just finished the outline for Raif's Story (Book 1 in The Phoenician Series) and want one additional reader (already have 2) to review the outline and give me feedback on how the book "sounds" from the outline. This book will fall in between WMC and CR so you should have already read both of those previously. You'll need to give feedback on how it relates to both of those stories.
NOTE: Thsi is not a book; it's an outline. Cannot stress that enough! This is not "reading for pleasure" but helping me with the work of creating a new book.
If you're interested and available this weekend, please see the Facebook post for where and how to volunteer. The deadline for feedback is Monday March 4th at 1800 EST so if you aren't around this weekend, it's probably not the gig for you.
Thanks!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
February 24, 2013
#SampleSunday #Snippet from Raif's Story (new #PhoenicianSeries #novel coming soon!) #SciFi #mystery #thriller
It's been just about a month since I last posted a sample or snippet so I figured it was time to share another nibble or taste of where the new book will be. The snippet shared here is still in draft form, remember, so it's still possible any or all of this material might be replaced, deleted or modified from the form presented here when the final book comes out.
This snippet is from the last third of the book and sets up a lot of story threads that are picked up in Conditioned Response . The events described here, like the characters, are fictional. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental (or imagined ;-))
Raif rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow to take a good, long look at the woman in the bed next to him. Girl, he corrected himself. Julia Travis was still a girl, just barely a week past legal age, though she had more woman in her than some of the doxies he’d bedded. What had he been thinking when he’d accepted this gift from the Seven Chiefs? And what had they done to her? Julia had barely acknowledged his existence last week when he and Jared had taken her and Freddie out to dinner but now...this whatever this was. What kind of spell had they cast on her? Would it wear off? Would she suddenly realize he was just a Proctor after all?
She nuzzled towards him and wriggled in a sleepy stretch, seeking out his arm as a pillow, then she tilted her head back to look up at him and ask, “What? What’s wrong now? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No, you’re not.”
“Sure, I am.” He ran a hand lightly over her long, silky legs. Her skin gave the term Privilege Class silk a whole new meaning. He really had no right to her, he decided, not knowing how he’d gotten her. He shouldn’t have let those old men give her to him this way, like she was a thing, not a person. She didn’t even know that she’d been tricked like this. The only thing worse than knowing she’d been bent without her knowledge or consent to serve his lustful needs was the fact he still had no idea what price he’d have to pay to have had her. He wouldn’t have turned it down not matter the cost. He couldn’t have found that much will power inside himself. They knew that. They’d been inside of himself, inside his mind and heart and soul. They’d known just what to offer him.
They’d told him to enjoy himself, enjoy her, but it was hard to enjoy something you knew had hidden costs. The Seven Chiefs weren’t the type to forget a debt. He knew that much about these Phoenicians already. They hid behind old man faces but they thought like young men—eager and ambitious young men. They were playing some kind of game and stacking the deck to win a later hand. Raif had no idea what the game was or he’d play right along; he might even win a hand. He was pretty good at most games of chance, able to calculate even complicated odds, but this was different.
He didn’t even know where the game began and where reality left off. It would bother him every time he touched Julia Travis, wondering if she really enjoyed his touch or if it was the old men making her feel that way. He’d wonder when she looked up at him the way she was now if that was her own smile or if Cadmus had made her do it. Was she just his puppet or could she still think for herself? And what about the last few hours? Had Cadmus been watching them do it? Had he used Raif’s mind to spy on them while they’d been going at it? Had Cadmus even known how it had felt for Raif to slip inside her? Could Raif ever trust any moment in his life to be private again? And just how far was their reach anyway? If he asked them directly, would they tell him? Were they watching him now? Did Cadmus know he was thinking about these things?
Raif tried to sense his own thoughts, to identify if someone were touching his mind, but he couldn’t be sure of anything. He wasn’t even sure if the feeling of his hand touching Julia’s ass right now was real or imagined. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get back to Phoenician land and have a private little sit-down with the Seven Chiefs. He’d definitely neglected to lay down sufficent ground rules for how this whole arrangement was going to work.
Julia’s brow furrowed and she lifted a hand, stroked her fingernails over his beard stubble, scratching lightly. It sent a chill down through him, which seemed to please her enough that the crease between her brows disappeared. At least that reaction he knew was due to himself not the old men manipulating her. She dove her fingers into his hair and pulled until he tilted his head to the side, then she massaged his temple with her thumb.
In a thoughtful tone, she said, “You are much too serious for someone who’s admiring my scenery. What’s really going on inside the pretty head of yours, and how do I get it to stop?”
“I’m just thinking about the future, where all of this is going.”
She drew back and almost looked shocked, which he supposed was a good thing, an authentic feeling anyway. She sat up and scooted herself around to face him, folding her legs into a pretzel and giving him a stunning view.
“Going?” She snapped, obviously trying to sound stern but failing to instill any sense of threat given the pose. “This isn’t going anywhere. You’re pretty enough and...” She ran her eyes down his length and his dick thickened under her visual touch. She extended her hand and ran just one fingertip lightly over his shaft, stirring the embers of desire back to life. “...well, you’re really good at what you do but sorry, no one is that good in bed, not even you. Besides, I’m too young to get serious, remember? You’re the one who said it!”
“I remember, and you are. Me, too. Both of us are too young to get serious about something like this. We’re just having a little fun between friends, but—”
“No! No but! What’s gotten into you, Raif?”
“Don’t you ever think about the future?”
“Of course, I do! Here’s what I think. I’m gonna rule the whole fucking Council and when I do, I’ll buy your contract and maybe a few others then you you can all take turns fucking me all night. How’s that sound?”
He grinned and pulled her down next to him then rolled over onto her. “Like a horny little teenager talking a big talk, but I’m not sharing you with anyone else.”
“So I can’t sleep with some like Richard Gaultier, only a Proctor? Is that it?”
“You’re already sleeping with both of us and that should be enough for any girl.” Her smile faded. “What?”
“I was kidding. I wouldn’t sleep with Richard Gaultier. Where did you get the idea I’d sleep with an old fart like him?”
He leaned back on one elbow. “You don’t remember who he is? I explained all that to you, this afternoon in Security Holding.”
Had Cadmus wiped her memory? Raif had had a long conversation in Security Holding with both Julia and Shayla, explaining to them about his dual identity as Richard Gaultier. He’d done it not only to reveal his secret identity to Julia, but to explain to them both how their lives were going to be connected from this moment going forward. In addition, the financing of both of their Council Seats was going to be coming from Gaultier and Raif needed Julia to be on board with protecting the lies from discovery. It was in her vested interest, but he couldn’t let himself forget her youth made her naïve about some things. Not sex, apparently, but she didn’t seem to know much about the realities of business.
Julia chewed her cheek then said, “I remember we were talking in Security, and that girl was there, though I’m not sure why. I think there was some mention of Gaultier funding me on next year’s Council but…there was something else about that Phoenician girl—”
“Her name is Shayla. Please don’t call her that Phoenician girl. She’s a part of us now.”
“Us? Whatever. Fine, Shayla. But why is some Phoenician here? I mean,” She scooted out from under him and sat up again, pushing her hair back off her face. “not her specifically, but how come a Phoenician’s running for the Council? I don’t get—wait, I’m missing a few hours, aren’t I? It’s like someone—” She gasped. “Shit! Did someone Adjust me? Raif, could that have happened? Have we been together since we left Security? Please tell me you’ve been with me every second since we left Security.”
She clutched at his arm and sounded scared. Now he wished he’d never gotten her involved in this whole mess. “I have, and…” He swallowed and committed to the lie. Obviously, Cadmus had touched her memory of the conversation, but why? And if Raif told her again, would Cadmus interfere a second time? For that matter, would Cadmus keep his promise not to touch Raif’s mind? How could Raif even know? It was clear to him now, Raif was going to have to find a better method of organizing his thoughts, his memories—a method that allowed him to perform self-checks and detect when he’d been touched, Adjusted or otehrwise, as it seemed the Councillors had nothing on the covert methods of the Seven Chiefs.
Raif assured her, “No one’s Adjusted you, Julia. You’re fine. Maybe I was too vague when I explained it to you.” He sat up and sat facing her. He had to look her in the eye for this, see her reaction. “Let me tell you again about this secret I shared with you.” Her eyes sharpened with interest. “You can’t tell anyone else but I told you before, I’m Richard Gaultier. He and I are one and the same man.”
“What?”
“I created him, years ago, to get around Dramond, to hide money and now—”
“No way! You’re the Privilege Class old fart funding my Seat? I distinctly remember seeing a file on him. You showed me a—”
“A fake file, with fake records and fake information, all of which I fabricated five years ago. I made up that family line and selected a respectably old age for the monarch then inserted him into the Breeding Selections. He’s not old money. His money is only five years old, since the day I made it. There’s no such family in the Archives the Original Members brought. I made it and him and the whole line of Heirs up. Gaultier, his history, everything, all a front for me to lead a double life. You must remember some of this.”
“But he owns—”
“I own it. All of it. It’s all mine, including the decision to partner with you on the Council Seats.”
“Partner?” She crossed her arms which reflected nicely on her supple young breasts. He could definitely partner with that.
“Yes, we’re partners—well, Gaultier, you and Shayla are partners. She knows about Gaultier, too, but I don’t think she really understands the concept of a secret. Her people don’t lie. Lucky for us, she doesn’t talk much.”
#
To read more about Raif, Julia and Shayla, be sure to get your copy of Conditioned Response today. The book from which the above snippet is taken has not yet been titled, but it will precede Conditioned Response in the series. Follow this blog and/or "like" The Phoenician Series on Facebook to be sure you get news of when the book is released!
Thanks for stopping by!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
This snippet is from the last third of the book and sets up a lot of story threads that are picked up in Conditioned Response . The events described here, like the characters, are fictional. Any resemblance to real people is coincidental (or imagined ;-))
Raif rolled over onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow to take a good, long look at the woman in the bed next to him. Girl, he corrected himself. Julia Travis was still a girl, just barely a week past legal age, though she had more woman in her than some of the doxies he’d bedded. What had he been thinking when he’d accepted this gift from the Seven Chiefs? And what had they done to her? Julia had barely acknowledged his existence last week when he and Jared had taken her and Freddie out to dinner but now...this whatever this was. What kind of spell had they cast on her? Would it wear off? Would she suddenly realize he was just a Proctor after all?
She nuzzled towards him and wriggled in a sleepy stretch, seeking out his arm as a pillow, then she tilted her head back to look up at him and ask, “What? What’s wrong now? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No, you’re not.”
“Sure, I am.” He ran a hand lightly over her long, silky legs. Her skin gave the term Privilege Class silk a whole new meaning. He really had no right to her, he decided, not knowing how he’d gotten her. He shouldn’t have let those old men give her to him this way, like she was a thing, not a person. She didn’t even know that she’d been tricked like this. The only thing worse than knowing she’d been bent without her knowledge or consent to serve his lustful needs was the fact he still had no idea what price he’d have to pay to have had her. He wouldn’t have turned it down not matter the cost. He couldn’t have found that much will power inside himself. They knew that. They’d been inside of himself, inside his mind and heart and soul. They’d known just what to offer him.
They’d told him to enjoy himself, enjoy her, but it was hard to enjoy something you knew had hidden costs. The Seven Chiefs weren’t the type to forget a debt. He knew that much about these Phoenicians already. They hid behind old man faces but they thought like young men—eager and ambitious young men. They were playing some kind of game and stacking the deck to win a later hand. Raif had no idea what the game was or he’d play right along; he might even win a hand. He was pretty good at most games of chance, able to calculate even complicated odds, but this was different.
He didn’t even know where the game began and where reality left off. It would bother him every time he touched Julia Travis, wondering if she really enjoyed his touch or if it was the old men making her feel that way. He’d wonder when she looked up at him the way she was now if that was her own smile or if Cadmus had made her do it. Was she just his puppet or could she still think for herself? And what about the last few hours? Had Cadmus been watching them do it? Had he used Raif’s mind to spy on them while they’d been going at it? Had Cadmus even known how it had felt for Raif to slip inside her? Could Raif ever trust any moment in his life to be private again? And just how far was their reach anyway? If he asked them directly, would they tell him? Were they watching him now? Did Cadmus know he was thinking about these things?
Raif tried to sense his own thoughts, to identify if someone were touching his mind, but he couldn’t be sure of anything. He wasn’t even sure if the feeling of his hand touching Julia’s ass right now was real or imagined. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to get back to Phoenician land and have a private little sit-down with the Seven Chiefs. He’d definitely neglected to lay down sufficent ground rules for how this whole arrangement was going to work.
Julia’s brow furrowed and she lifted a hand, stroked her fingernails over his beard stubble, scratching lightly. It sent a chill down through him, which seemed to please her enough that the crease between her brows disappeared. At least that reaction he knew was due to himself not the old men manipulating her. She dove her fingers into his hair and pulled until he tilted his head to the side, then she massaged his temple with her thumb.
In a thoughtful tone, she said, “You are much too serious for someone who’s admiring my scenery. What’s really going on inside the pretty head of yours, and how do I get it to stop?”
“I’m just thinking about the future, where all of this is going.”
She drew back and almost looked shocked, which he supposed was a good thing, an authentic feeling anyway. She sat up and scooted herself around to face him, folding her legs into a pretzel and giving him a stunning view.
“Going?” She snapped, obviously trying to sound stern but failing to instill any sense of threat given the pose. “This isn’t going anywhere. You’re pretty enough and...” She ran her eyes down his length and his dick thickened under her visual touch. She extended her hand and ran just one fingertip lightly over his shaft, stirring the embers of desire back to life. “...well, you’re really good at what you do but sorry, no one is that good in bed, not even you. Besides, I’m too young to get serious, remember? You’re the one who said it!”
“I remember, and you are. Me, too. Both of us are too young to get serious about something like this. We’re just having a little fun between friends, but—”
“No! No but! What’s gotten into you, Raif?”
“Don’t you ever think about the future?”
“Of course, I do! Here’s what I think. I’m gonna rule the whole fucking Council and when I do, I’ll buy your contract and maybe a few others then you you can all take turns fucking me all night. How’s that sound?”
He grinned and pulled her down next to him then rolled over onto her. “Like a horny little teenager talking a big talk, but I’m not sharing you with anyone else.”
“So I can’t sleep with some like Richard Gaultier, only a Proctor? Is that it?”
“You’re already sleeping with both of us and that should be enough for any girl.” Her smile faded. “What?”
“I was kidding. I wouldn’t sleep with Richard Gaultier. Where did you get the idea I’d sleep with an old fart like him?”
He leaned back on one elbow. “You don’t remember who he is? I explained all that to you, this afternoon in Security Holding.”
Had Cadmus wiped her memory? Raif had had a long conversation in Security Holding with both Julia and Shayla, explaining to them about his dual identity as Richard Gaultier. He’d done it not only to reveal his secret identity to Julia, but to explain to them both how their lives were going to be connected from this moment going forward. In addition, the financing of both of their Council Seats was going to be coming from Gaultier and Raif needed Julia to be on board with protecting the lies from discovery. It was in her vested interest, but he couldn’t let himself forget her youth made her naïve about some things. Not sex, apparently, but she didn’t seem to know much about the realities of business.
Julia chewed her cheek then said, “I remember we were talking in Security, and that girl was there, though I’m not sure why. I think there was some mention of Gaultier funding me on next year’s Council but…there was something else about that Phoenician girl—”
“Her name is Shayla. Please don’t call her that Phoenician girl. She’s a part of us now.”
“Us? Whatever. Fine, Shayla. But why is some Phoenician here? I mean,” She scooted out from under him and sat up again, pushing her hair back off her face. “not her specifically, but how come a Phoenician’s running for the Council? I don’t get—wait, I’m missing a few hours, aren’t I? It’s like someone—” She gasped. “Shit! Did someone Adjust me? Raif, could that have happened? Have we been together since we left Security? Please tell me you’ve been with me every second since we left Security.”
She clutched at his arm and sounded scared. Now he wished he’d never gotten her involved in this whole mess. “I have, and…” He swallowed and committed to the lie. Obviously, Cadmus had touched her memory of the conversation, but why? And if Raif told her again, would Cadmus interfere a second time? For that matter, would Cadmus keep his promise not to touch Raif’s mind? How could Raif even know? It was clear to him now, Raif was going to have to find a better method of organizing his thoughts, his memories—a method that allowed him to perform self-checks and detect when he’d been touched, Adjusted or otehrwise, as it seemed the Councillors had nothing on the covert methods of the Seven Chiefs.
Raif assured her, “No one’s Adjusted you, Julia. You’re fine. Maybe I was too vague when I explained it to you.” He sat up and sat facing her. He had to look her in the eye for this, see her reaction. “Let me tell you again about this secret I shared with you.” Her eyes sharpened with interest. “You can’t tell anyone else but I told you before, I’m Richard Gaultier. He and I are one and the same man.”
“What?”
“I created him, years ago, to get around Dramond, to hide money and now—”
“No way! You’re the Privilege Class old fart funding my Seat? I distinctly remember seeing a file on him. You showed me a—”
“A fake file, with fake records and fake information, all of which I fabricated five years ago. I made up that family line and selected a respectably old age for the monarch then inserted him into the Breeding Selections. He’s not old money. His money is only five years old, since the day I made it. There’s no such family in the Archives the Original Members brought. I made it and him and the whole line of Heirs up. Gaultier, his history, everything, all a front for me to lead a double life. You must remember some of this.”
“But he owns—”
“I own it. All of it. It’s all mine, including the decision to partner with you on the Council Seats.”
“Partner?” She crossed her arms which reflected nicely on her supple young breasts. He could definitely partner with that.
“Yes, we’re partners—well, Gaultier, you and Shayla are partners. She knows about Gaultier, too, but I don’t think she really understands the concept of a secret. Her people don’t lie. Lucky for us, she doesn’t talk much.”
#
To read more about Raif, Julia and Shayla, be sure to get your copy of Conditioned Response today. The book from which the above snippet is taken has not yet been titled, but it will precede Conditioned Response in the series. Follow this blog and/or "like" The Phoenician Series on Facebook to be sure you get news of when the book is released!
Thanks for stopping by!
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
January 27, 2013
#SixSunday Part 6 #snippet 1f #PhoenicianSeries #Raif's Story #novelines #samplesunday
Today is Snippet1f - the 6th and final piece of this snippet sequence. Click here to skip the administrivia explanations and just read the snippe.
Alas, with today's snippet, the SixSunday list is shutting down. Such a shame I just signed up in December, 2012, a month before the end. I'll keep snippeting on my own but it won't be the same without the #SixSunday meme o_O
About my snippeting
If you've been reading along, you'll know I've been snippeting bits and pieces of scenes from Book 1, "Raif's Story" both in chunks and using the #SixSunday hash and Linky list at http://sixsunday.com/ :) Check @phoenicianbooks on Twitter and the #SixSunday hashtag on Twitter for a link to the current week's snippet if you don't want to follow the blog--no! follow me! follow me! :)
Although each scene snippeted as a #SixSunday piece will be in sequential order, the scenes themselves will be out of order (in regards to how they will eventually appear in the book). Just search the blog tag cloud for SixSunday and/or PhoenicianSeries to find another snippet in the scene you want to read.
If you haven't read any of the books in the series yet, you can get them both from Smashwords. The short story/novella When Minds Collide (#WMC) comes first and the long novel Conditioned Response (#CondResp) comes next. What I'm snippeting now, Raif's Story , will fall in between them on the timeline of the series....larger chunks of snippets from other scenes have been posted to The Phoenician Series Page on Facebook, so you should be sure to stop in and "like" that too (don't forget to click "like" a second time to put a checkmark next to "Show in Newsfeed" or Facebook will hide pages you liked from you *boo* Facebook!)
Snippet (1f)
(click here to read earlier snippets in this #SixSunday sequence)
The old man went on as though Raif hadn’t interrupted him, “—but I believe, first we need you to understand the significance of your presence here, and of course, the impact of Shayla’s presence in your world.”
“Well, I’m not sure what good comes of my being here, in this tent with all of you, but I can tell you what impact Shayla’s presence had in my world. No good came of it, not for her, not for us. She doesn’t belong in—our people shouldn’t mix. That’s why I brought her back here, to set things right again.”
“Past tense.” said the man across the fire, at Lorinth’s right hand. The rest of the circle nodded and murmered agreement.
###
Let me know what you think of this stuff. Tweet me
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
Alas, with today's snippet, the SixSunday list is shutting down. Such a shame I just signed up in December, 2012, a month before the end. I'll keep snippeting on my own but it won't be the same without the #SixSunday meme o_O
About my snippeting
If you've been reading along, you'll know I've been snippeting bits and pieces of scenes from Book 1, "Raif's Story" both in chunks and using the #SixSunday hash and Linky list at http://sixsunday.com/ :) Check @phoenicianbooks on Twitter and the #SixSunday hashtag on Twitter for a link to the current week's snippet if you don't want to follow the blog--no! follow me! follow me! :)
Although each scene snippeted as a #SixSunday piece will be in sequential order, the scenes themselves will be out of order (in regards to how they will eventually appear in the book). Just search the blog tag cloud for SixSunday and/or PhoenicianSeries to find another snippet in the scene you want to read.
If you haven't read any of the books in the series yet, you can get them both from Smashwords. The short story/novella When Minds Collide (#WMC) comes first and the long novel Conditioned Response (#CondResp) comes next. What I'm snippeting now, Raif's Story , will fall in between them on the timeline of the series....larger chunks of snippets from other scenes have been posted to The Phoenician Series Page on Facebook, so you should be sure to stop in and "like" that too (don't forget to click "like" a second time to put a checkmark next to "Show in Newsfeed" or Facebook will hide pages you liked from you *boo* Facebook!)
Snippet (1f)
(click here to read earlier snippets in this #SixSunday sequence)
The old man went on as though Raif hadn’t interrupted him, “—but I believe, first we need you to understand the significance of your presence here, and of course, the impact of Shayla’s presence in your world.”
“Well, I’m not sure what good comes of my being here, in this tent with all of you, but I can tell you what impact Shayla’s presence had in my world. No good came of it, not for her, not for us. She doesn’t belong in—our people shouldn’t mix. That’s why I brought her back here, to set things right again.”
“Past tense.” said the man across the fire, at Lorinth’s right hand. The rest of the circle nodded and murmered agreement.
###
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-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
January 20, 2013
#SixSunday Part 5 #snippet 1e #PhoenicianSeries #Raif's Story #novelines #samplesunday
Today is Snippet 1e - 5th piece of the scene. Click here to skip the administrivia explanations and just read today's snippet.
If you've been reading along, you'll know I've been snippeting bits and pieces of scenes from Book 1, "Raif's Story" both in chunks and using the #SixSunday hash and Linky list at http://sixsunday.com/ :) Check @phoenicianbooks on Twitter and the #SixSunday hashtag on Twitter for a link to the current week's snippet if you don't want to follow the blog--no! follow me! follow me! :)
Although each scene snippeted as a #SixSunday piece will be in sequential order, the scenes themselves will be out of order (in regards to how they will eventually appear in the book). Just search the blog tag cloud for SixSunday and/or PhoenicianSeries to find another snippet in the scene you want to read.
If you haven't read any of the books in the series yet, you can get them both from Smashwords. The short story/novella When Minds Collide (#WMC) comes first and the long novel Conditioned Response (#CondResp) comes next. What I'm snippeting now, Raif's Story , will fall in between them on the timeline of the series....larger chunks of snippets from other scenes have been posted to The Phoenician Series Page on Facebook, so you should be sure to stop in and "like" that too (don't forget to click "like" a second time to put a checkmark next to "Show in Newsfeed" or Facebook will hide pages you liked from you *boo* Facebook!)
Snippet (1e)
(click here to read earlier snippets in this #SixSunday sequence)
“Elder—” The man on Raif’s right halfway down the circle started but stopped when the old man raised just two fingers on his left hand, somehow signaling he wanted silence. He got it. No one said anything, but Raif could feel the tension level had gone up. Interesting. So the oldest man, Cadmus, the one they called the Elder, was actually in charge despite the fact that the man directly across the fire from Raif seemed to be the focal point of the seating plan.
The Elder explained, “Lorinth and Marcus wish to move forward, to be direct and simply ask for your word of acceptance—”
“Acceptance of what?” Raif demanded.
###
Let me know what you think of this stuff. Tweet me
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
If you've been reading along, you'll know I've been snippeting bits and pieces of scenes from Book 1, "Raif's Story" both in chunks and using the #SixSunday hash and Linky list at http://sixsunday.com/ :) Check @phoenicianbooks on Twitter and the #SixSunday hashtag on Twitter for a link to the current week's snippet if you don't want to follow the blog--no! follow me! follow me! :)
Although each scene snippeted as a #SixSunday piece will be in sequential order, the scenes themselves will be out of order (in regards to how they will eventually appear in the book). Just search the blog tag cloud for SixSunday and/or PhoenicianSeries to find another snippet in the scene you want to read.
If you haven't read any of the books in the series yet, you can get them both from Smashwords. The short story/novella When Minds Collide (#WMC) comes first and the long novel Conditioned Response (#CondResp) comes next. What I'm snippeting now, Raif's Story , will fall in between them on the timeline of the series....larger chunks of snippets from other scenes have been posted to The Phoenician Series Page on Facebook, so you should be sure to stop in and "like" that too (don't forget to click "like" a second time to put a checkmark next to "Show in Newsfeed" or Facebook will hide pages you liked from you *boo* Facebook!)
Snippet (1e)
(click here to read earlier snippets in this #SixSunday sequence)
“Elder—” The man on Raif’s right halfway down the circle started but stopped when the old man raised just two fingers on his left hand, somehow signaling he wanted silence. He got it. No one said anything, but Raif could feel the tension level had gone up. Interesting. So the oldest man, Cadmus, the one they called the Elder, was actually in charge despite the fact that the man directly across the fire from Raif seemed to be the focal point of the seating plan.
The Elder explained, “Lorinth and Marcus wish to move forward, to be direct and simply ask for your word of acceptance—”
“Acceptance of what?” Raif demanded.
###
Let me know what you think of this stuff. Tweet me
-Friday
@phoenicianbooks
