Steve McHugh's Blog: Steve McHugh - Writer, page 26

Born of Hatred Competition

As I mentioned last week, my second book, Born of Hatred will be out on the 16th December. To celebrate this fact, I think it’s competition time.

Because I’m feeling particularly kind (which is probably down to the Christmas ‘cheer’), there will be three winners.

So, here’s what each person could win:

Third Place Winner:

A poster sized (20 by 30 inches) copy of the cover to either Born of Hatred or Crimes Against Magic (you can pick which), signed by myself and the artist, Eamon O’Donoghue. And a bookmark

 

Second Place Winner:

The same as above (poster of your choice and a bookmark), but with a signed copy of Born of Hatred included.

The bookmarks will look something like this. But a bit different. I’m aware that isn’t the best description ever.

First Place Winner:

A poster sized copy of both covers (Born of Hatred and Crimes Against Magic), both signed by Eamon and myself. A bookmark. A signed copy of Born of Hatred. And this:

Those whips are glow in the dark.

Let the awesomeness wash over you.

Yep. That’s right, the winner gets their very own Lego Nate. There are only 2 of these in the world (and I have 1). So it’s pretty rare, and quite clearly awesome.

So, I hear you shout, how do you win one of these incredible sets? Well, it’s pretty simple. You answer 1 question. Get it right and you go into a draw. In 2 weeks time (27th Dec), I will pick three names out of the draw, one for each prize.

And the question is:

In Crimes Against Magic, what is the name of the bookshop that Nate visits?

So, to enter, just e-mail me (using the contact form) or PM me on Twitter or Facebook and, if you’re correct, you go into a draw to win some cool stuff. Please don’t put the answer on the comments box. You’ll only let everyone else know what it is and give yourself less chance to win.

And if you haven’t read Crimes Against Magic yet, it’s currently on a sale price of $2.99 for a limited time, so you’ve still got a chance to read it. You can get it from Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk, or whichever amazon is your nearest one.

So, you have 2 weeks starting now. Good luck.

Born of Hatred – Chapter 1

As promised, here’s the first chapter of Born of Hatred (Hellequin Chronicles Book 2).

Chapter 1

Basingstoke, England. Now.

She lay on the floor, panting. Her chest rose and fell quickly in an effort to get as much oxygen into her body as possible. Her bare midriff, the muscles taut and inviting, the skin tanned and beautiful, glistened with sweat. Only one thought entered my mind. Oh crap.

“You want a drink?” I asked, picking up a bottle of water from the floor.

Sara sat up and caught the cold bottle in one hand when I threw it to her. As she drank, water dripped down her chin, landing just above her sports bra and trickling down between her breasts. I stared at my bottle of water and considered tipping it down my pants. I settled for drinking it, while ensuring that my gaze fell on nothing that could be considered sexy. A stack of blue mats sat at the end of the huge gym hall. There is nothing sexy about a blue gym mat. That did the trick.

“So, you want to go for another round?” she asked.

I turned back to her just in time to catch the half empty bottle of water she’d thrown at my head. “That’s not nice,” I said with a smile. “You’re going to have to be taught a lesson.”

Sara got back to her feet and put herself in a fighting stance. “Come on, old man; let’s see if you’ve still got what it takes.”

I tossed both bottles aside, and deflected the punch I knew was coming. I pushed her arm aside and stepped around her, keeping my distance, making her do the work. Sara might have only been human, and only been fighting for a few months, but what she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in sheer tenacity and quickness.

Her foot spun round, trying to catch me in my ribs, but I blocked it with ease. Unfortunately, she knew what I was going to do and quickly switched tactics, throwing a punch, which I wasn’t positioned to block effectively. I took a glancing blow off my cheek as I dodged aside. “Good shot.”

Sara smiled. She’d remembered not to get dragged into a conversation with the person you’re fighting. Concentrate on the person trying to knock you out, not on trying to chat them up.

She threw another punch, this one meant to distract from her attempt to knee me in the stomach. I wasn’t distracted. I grabbed her thigh, falling back and using my momentum to drag her over and dump her on her back.

What I hadn’t expected was for Sara to grab my arm as she went over, pulling me with her. So, I was the one who ended up on my back, with Sara straddling my chest. Her smile beamed as she undid her ponytail, letting her long blonde hair fall loose over her shoulders.

“Old man,” she said

“You learn quickly.” I tried to sit up and she pushed me back.

“Not yet. You must learn patience.” She laughed, mocking a familiar speech I’d given to her when she’d wanted to learn more quickly than she was capable of.

I pushed her hand away, which caused her to lose her balance. She fell forward, her face coming close to mine. She inhaled sharply as our mouths almost touched. Her pupils dilated and she licked her lips invitingly. I looked into her green eyes and wanted to take her, wanted to feel her naked skin against mine, to feel her moving around me as I entered her. The moment lasted longer than it should have.

“Would Nathan Garret report to Thomas Carpenter’s office? That’s Nathan Garret to Thomas Carpenter’s office.” The loudspeaker announcement brought us both back to our senses.

“We should go,” Sara said, and rolled off me, going over to grab her bottle of water.

I lay on the ground a moment longer, and tried to think of something calming. The gym mats weren’t going to be enough. When finally ready to move, I got back to my feet and made my way to the intercom by the main entrance, pushing the button and informing whoever was on the other end that I would be half an hour. Tommy could come find me himself if it was that important. I didn’t work for him.

“You okay?” I asked Sara, who hadn’t spoken in a few minutes.

“I have a boyfriend,” she said softly. “I love him. I love being with him, he’s fun and sweet and treats me well. Something I’ve not had much experience with.”

“I know,” I said.

“So why do you make me forget all about him? How is it that you have this effect on me? That I want to do incredibly bad things to you every time I see you?”

I shrugged. “I’m sorry, Sara. If you want me to stop training—”

“No,” she snapped. “Tommy and you have told me that if I’m going to be his assistant, I need training. And more than one person has said you’re the best to do that. I just want to be able to train. Without the desire to rip all your clothes off and fuck you on the floor.”

“I don’t know what to say. Maybe we both need a cold shower, and to try and keep it as professional as possible in future. No matter how difficult that might be. I don’t want you to do anything to jeopardise the happiness you have at home.”

“I won’t,” she said, sounding certain. “I can control this. I just need to avoid draping myself over you in future.” She picked up her bag and slung the strap over one shoulder. “I’ll go shower and tell Tommy you’ll be up soon.”

“Thanks,” I said, and then she was gone leaving me with a great desire to bathe myself in ice cold water for the foreseeable future.

As it turned out, once I’d showered and dressed, any longing I felt was buried deep inside me as I walked through the busy office building owned by my friend Thomas Carpenter.

Technically it’s two buildings, one was three stories and the other twenty-five, joined together by a walkway above the staff parking area outside. I looked out of a nearby window, down at the smaller of the two buildings. It’s the only entrance to the larger building, and includes enough security to make getting into the White House seem like a walk in the park. Six lifts, all glass except for the floor and ceiling, each containing a thermal imaging unit and metal detector. Runes, carved into the very structure of the building, ensured that no one could use their abilities unless authorised. I looked down at the small bracelet on my wrist; the runes carved into the wooden beads allowed me to access my magic. Each staff member wore one, even the humans, so that no one could be identified from appearance alone. Each bracelet was designed for that person only, and not all bracelets were created equal.

The larger building had a similar rune structure, carved into the steel and concrete. And it wasn’t overkill. My friend Thomas, or Tommy as he liked to be known, was a Private Investigator, or used to be. Now he runs his own investigations firm, and he’s managed to piss off a lot of powerful people in the process.

But none of the measures were there to protect him. As a six-hundred-plus-year-old werewolf, he’s quite capable of taking care of himself. But he’d never have forgiven himself if his people got hurt because of a lack of care and protection.

I made my way through to the lifts, saying hello to the various people who knew me, and gaining a few odd glances from those who didn’t. When everyone else is wearing smart suits, the man wearing jeans, a hooded top, and carrying a leather biker jacket sort of stands out.

As the lift doors opened, revealing the mirrored walls inside, another loudspeaker announcement sounded. “Can Mr. Garrett please go to the employee parking lot?”

I stepped into the lift and pressed the button for the ground floor. I had no idea what Tommy wanted, but I was already certain it wasn’t going to be good.

By the time I’d reached the smaller building, I’d already devised a dozen scenarios in which Tommy asked me to do something either ridiculous or dangerous. Probably a combination of the two.

I walked along a curved corridor of the smaller building, passing armed guards. I occasionally glanced down through the glass sides at the reception below, until I reached a set of lifts. The green button lit up when I pressed it, flashing slowly as the lift made its way up the three floors toward me. The reception lifts moved slower than the normal ones, and had glass walls, so that the occupants could be monitored.

I took the lift down to the reception and said hi to a few more people as I left through one of the two revolving doors and into the parking lot outside. I found Tommy and Sara standing beside a large, black Toyota Hilux truck. They were deep in conversation which stopped when Tommy saw me.

Sara had changed into a blue blouse, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She glanced up as Tommy threw something at me, which I caught one handed. A set of car keys.

“Are we going somewhere nice?” I asked.

“Sara, can you give us a moment?” he asked.

Sara walked away to a respectable distance, before playing with her phone and pretending that she wasn’t trying to listen in to Tommy and me.

“I need your help,” Tommy said.

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you need my help?” I gestured to the building behind me. “There are a dozen people in there that would die for the chance to help you.”

“I need someone I can trust, no matter what happens.”

“Why? What’s going to happen, Tommy?”

He at least had the decency to look outraged. “Nothing,” he sighed. “It’s recon work I agreed to do to help a client. And I want you to be my backup.”

“Start talking.”

“Fifteen years ago a nasty little bastard by the name of Neil Hatchell attacked and raped seven women. He got out of prison two weeks ago.”

“There’s more to this, I assume.”

“He’s a werewolf, and after he was done beating each of his victims half to death, he bit them. Three died from the change and another one killed herself when she couldn’t cope with what she’d become. He was charged by Avalon with seven counts of rape, three of murder, one destruction of a mind and seven of gene manipulation without consent.”

“So, why isn’t he dead?” I asked. Avalon doesn’t exactly look fondly on crimes like his. In fact it was a surprise that Neil had been arrested at all. Normally the LOA aren’t shy about ending problems on a more permanent basis.

“No idea. Instead they stuck him in the Hole. Third floor.”

The Hole was a prison on an isolated island in the North Atlantic. It’s not on any maps, and has a permanent no-fly zone around it for anyone not associated with Avalon. It’s also one of only three prisons with enough capabilities to handle even the most powerful of creatures. It consists of ten floors, the more dangerous you are the higher the number, and the further underground you’re kept. The first seven are guarded night and day, the last three are left unguarded and it’s up to the prisoners to rule themselves. No one in their right mind wants to be placed down there. I’ve been down there twice. Once I almost didn’t make it back out, and the second time was even less fun.

“Bet that wasn’t a picnic. How the hell did he get out after only fifteen years? He should have served over two hundred years for the deaths alone.”

“Again, no idea. But he’s out and officially can’t be touched, he’s served his time and is a free man. Unofficially… well that’s where we come in. My client wants him checked out. So I want to bring you and Sara with me.”

“You want us to go pay him a visit and make sure he’s behaving himself? So why is Sara coming?”

“She’s my assistant. She’s been here two months, and she hasn’t accompanied anyone on assignment. She needs to know the type of work we do. I figure with me and you there, there’s nowhere safer for her to be.”

“Except in the office here,” I pointed out. “She’s not ready.”

“Is that Nate the fully trained, professional problem solver talking, or Nate’s penis?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “My penis hasn’t done a lot of talking lately.”

“She has a boyfriend.”

“Thank you for the relationship advice,” I said. “I know this already. Nothing has happened between us, nor will it. But if something bad happens, she’s had no weapons training.”

“You’ll keep her safe, and you know it.” He turned and walked back toward his truck, waving at Sara to come and join him. He opened the door for her to get in and I sighed and followed. Tommy was right, although I’d have never told him that. Sara did need the experience.

As I opened the driver’s door, I saw a big beaming smile on Tommy’s stupid, smug face, and I already knew I was going to regret saying ‘yes’.

Born of Hatred – Prologue

Prologue

Montana Territory, America. 1878

The bear was huge. Even compared to other grizzlies, it would have been considered a monster. I’d seen several of her kind since arriving in Montana. And so long as I kept my distance and avoided them, they had tended to do the same with me. Something told me I wasn’t going to be as lucky this time. This time there was a cub.

I leant forward and brushed the neck of the young, palomino mustang I rode. She had been an expensive purchase, but, as I’d discovered, well worth the money. She was even-tempered, but kept some of the fire I’d heard her breed was capable of. But above all, she was hard to spook. She’d stood her ground when there’d been predators or hunters nearby. It made her seem almost fearless, hence her name—Valour.

The bear stalked forward, putting herself between her cub and the perceived threat. She was maybe thirty feet away and a low growl sounded in her throat, the moonlight only serving to enhance its resonating power it.  I couldn’t see how this would end well.

“Not here to hurt you, girl,” I said softly. I knew talking to the bear was useless, but damn if I had any better ideas. I wanted to get down from Valour, to prepare for any confrontation, but that might be seen as an aggressive response and trigger the very fight I was trying to avoid.

Outrunning the beast was impossible. With me on her back, Valour was no match for the grizzly over short distances and we wouldn’t get enough of a head start to make a difference in the long run, not to mention that the surroundings hardly afforded Valour a good escape. I pulled the reins, moving Valour further back into the stream, leaving a few dozen meters between us and the bear. I’d only stopped for a drink, and to catch a few fish, thinking we’d be gone before any local wildlife would notice us.

The bank on the far side was home to several huge trees and bordered by a fifty-foot-high cliff. There was a slope that led up toward the top of the cliff, but it was a hundred feet up the bank and there was nowhere to gain an advantage and get to higher ground before then.

The bear took a few more steps forward and splashed at the water, her eyes never leaving Valour and me.

“Don’t make me kill you, girl,” I said. “I don’t want to make an orphan of your cub there.” If she charged, I knew I could kill her, but killing an animal for wanting to protect herself and her cub hardly seemed fair. Unfortunately a simple warning wasn’t going to deter the grizzly if her mind was set on a fight.

The bear rose on her hind legs, all eight feet of solid muscle, razor sharp claws and teeth glistening in the moonlight. And she roared.

In the dead of night, and so close to the cliff wall, the sound was much more ferocious than it might have otherwise been. It reverberated all around me, and Valour shied back a few steps, her head raised high, until I calmed her once more.

The bear moved forward and roared again. Violence was coming, I was certain of it. I’d have to orphan the cub, which would be its death sentence. More humane just to put it out of its misery.

The bear tensed to charge and a massive explosion of noise sounded above us, a second following a moment later. Gunshots. The bear turned and ran back into the woods, the cub quickly following in its mother’s wake, the need to fight overridden by the need to get as far away from the noise as possible.

I led Valour onto the bank with the high cliff and dismounted, as a third shot rang out. A forth was right above where I stood. In my experience, hunters don’t usually run after their prey, shooting the whole time.

I guided Valour into the nearby tree line, hoping to avoid a confrontation if the gun wielders happened to run down the slope from the top of the cliff toward the stream. I heard a crash high above me.

I stepped back and craned my neck to get a better look as something tumbled through the top of the nearest tree, crashing through the branches as it fell. It wasn’t until he was halfway down that I saw it was a human boy.

White glyphs immediately blared across the back of my hands, moving up my wrists before vanishing from view under my coat sleeves. I raised my hands, palms out toward the boy, blasting a torrent of air to cushion his fall. There was little I could do about the larger branches without hurting him too, but he only hit the floor with a small bump, and was immediately followed by hundreds of leaves and twigs.

I dashed over and found him lying on his back. Blood soaked one side of his face, covering his shoulder and half of his chest. There was a nasty cut just above his temple. It wasn’t life-threatening, cuts to the head always look worse than they inevitably are, but it still needed to be cleaned and closed.

The bigger problem was the damage the hard branches had done on his way down. Whilst his arms and legs weren’t broken, when I touched his ribs he stirred slightly and winced, before quickly slipping back into unconsciousness. The ribs were either broken or badly bruised and I hoped he hadn’t punctured a lung. A wound I’d seen happen before with broken ribs, and in many circumstances a death sentence this far from anything resembling a doctor.

“Hey you,” a man shouted.

I turned to watch two men on horses trot toward me. One had a revolver out and ready to use; I recognised it as an Army Colt.

“Step away from the boy,” he said, his voice rough and deep.

The second man just sat in the saddle of his brown horse and watched. A sparkle of metal shone on his lapel when the moonlight touched it. A sheriff’s badge.

“He’s hurt,” I said, and stepped between the armed men and the unconscious boy.

“He’s a thief and a murderer,” the armed man said, moving his horse closer. “And you will hand him over to us.”

“To shoot whilst he’s running away?”

The man’s eyes narrowed and he pulled his jacket aside. “You see this badge? It says I’m a deputy sheriff. My friend over there is a deputy too. The boy is a criminal, and we’ll kill him any way we can. Now move aside.”

“I don’t care about your badge,” I said. “I’m not about to hand over a badly hurt boy to be executed. I’ll take him to town. If he is what you say, he’ll see justice.”

The armed deputy pointed the Colt at me. “You’ll move aside and allow us to take him, or we’ll go through you.”

The second man’s hand had dropped to his gun, which was still holstered. My Winchester rifle was still in its own holster, attached to the side of the Valour, along with my Jian, a Chinese sword.

I stepped aside, seemingly to allow the deputy access to the boy, but it put me next to Valour. The man nodded curtly as he turned his attention to his prey, giving me time to grab the sheathed Jian and slam the hilt into his throat as he rode past. I spun, dragging one of the two silver daggers out of the blade holster on the small of my back, and threw it at the second man. The blade missed his head by a hair’s width, but it had the desired effect of making him lose his concentration. And the next thing he knew, the end of my Winchester rifle’s barrel was pressed firmly against his nose.

“Make a move and you’ll find a big hole where your face used to be,” I said, dragging an identical Colt from the deputy’s holster and flinging it into the woods behind him.

His partner’s horse trotted past, the unconscious deputy slumped forward. “I’d leave now and go help your friend,” I said.

“This isn’t over,” he said.

“It is for today. Now leave. If this boy did as you say I’ll bring him in myself.”

“You have the authority to do that?” he asked incredulously.

I removed the barrel from his nose. “You have no idea of my authority. Get out of my damn sight.”

I watched the deputy guide his partner’s horse back into the woods away from us. I doubted they were the type of people who kept their promises, and I wanted to be far away before they decided on a repeat performance. I walked over to the boy and looked down at him. A murderer and thief. He opened one eye—the other was already swelling closed.

“Who are you?” he asked, his words broken as he spoke through the pain.

“Nathan Garrett,” I said. “You’re safe now.”

“I’m Sam,” he said softly, before passing out once more, and leaving me with one burning thought.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Born of Hatred – Release date

That right, I’ve finally sorted out a date for Born of Hatred, the sequel to Crimes Against Magic. And that date is… 16 December 2012.

This week and next I’ll be posting the prologue and first few chapters for people to read. I’ll also be announcing a competition next week for one lucky person to win some pretty cool stuff, and the only way you can win will be to know the answer to a question about Crimes Against Magic.

To celebrate the release of Born of Hatred, Crimes Against Magic will be reduced to $2.99 (£1.87). This will be for a limited time only, so if you’re interested in cool stuff and haven’t already purchased, or read, your copy you may want to do so. No pressure or anything.

 

 

 

Great Escapes – Kickstarter

Today, I’d like to welcome Chrissey Harrison to my blog. Chrissey is a writer and editor and has put together an incredible list of talent in one anthology, which she’s here to talk to everyone about. The floor is all yours, Chrissey.

Hi Steve, thanks for the warm welcome.

Crowdfunding is the hot topic at the moment. Rather than relying on a single investor, a bank loan or tapping out your savings to produce your book, comic, film or whatever, why not get your fans to fund you? The idea is really taking off and at The Great Escape http://thegreatesc.com , we decided to give it a go by raising funds on Kickstarter for our first anthology: Great Escapes | Volume 1

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About Great Escapes | Volume 1

A collection of fiction, of all shapes and sizes, with the power to transport you to another time and place. From creepy horror to sweet romance, this first anthology of Great Escapes is just the thing to help you escape reality for a few moments at a time.

The book brings together all of the fiction showcased on The Great Escape during our first year, along with new contributions from new authors, gorgeous illustrations by artist Kat Wilson and cover photography by Jeff Waye.

This is going to be the first of many yearly anthologies, or fiction annuals as I like to think of them.

A piece of the very talented Kat Wilson’s art

Why Raise Funds?

Self-publishing in eBook form has truly revolutionised the publishing industry because of the lack of overheads; you don’t have to invest large sums up front and you don’t end up with your investment tied up in stock waiting to be sold. However, we wanted to do more than release an eBook, we wanted to offer the contributors the chance to appear in a printed book, and to do that we needed a certain number of pre-orders to finance a print run. Kickstarter provided us with a platform for gathering those pre-orders.

What About Print on Demand?

It’s true that print on demand has enabled a lot of self-published authors to offer print versions. However, even compared to a short digital print run of 100 copies, the cost per unit is significantly higher. I wanted the opportunity to offer the contributors royalties from the book profits, and the high production cost of POD wouldn’t have allowed for that. By going for a print run, I can split approximately half of the book’s cover price between the contributors.

Our Kickstarter Project

Initially we wanted to keep the Kickstarter project simple, but we had such a positive initial response that we decided to add further rewards including numbered limited edition hardbacks, original artwork from illustrator Kat and my personal favourite, the “Round the World Book Tour” (which is still up for grabs as I write this).

While we’ve already hit our funding target, the more pre-orders we receive, the more we can do to ensure the book is a success, and some of the rewards will only be available through Kickstarter. The campaign ends on 5th December, so there’s still time to make a pledge and pre-order a copy. Make sure you check out the Kickstarter Project page  and the project updates.

An Invitation to Writers

Would you like your work to be part of Great Escapes | Volume 2 in 2013? We’d love to hear from you! Check out our submissions page  or contact us with any questions.

Thanks again to Steve for hosting this post. I hope you’ll check out the book and, if anyone would like to ask questions or share their opinions on crowdfunding for publishing projects, feel free to drop me an email at The Great Escape. We also have a discussion thread on our forum or you can find us on Twitter or Facebook.

Cyberpunk by Colin F. Barnes

This week I have a special treat in the form of a guest post by author Colin F. Barnes.

Colin is a writer of dark and daring fiction. He takes his influence from everyday life, and the weird happenings that go on in the shadowy locales of Essex in the UK.

 

Cyberpunk is one of those evocative words that often gets used in marketing for video games, films, and other visual arts. And for very good reason: the genre often features extrapolations of fashion, technology, architecture, and even physical appearance. So it naturally lends itself to a visual medium. See Blade Runner, or Ghost In The Shell as prime examples of this. But how does this sub-genre of science fiction portray itself in literature?

 

Hyper Reality and Interconnected Societies

 

One cannot talk about Cyberpunk in literature without referencing William Gibson’s classic novel, Neuromancer. It’s a touchstone of the genre and should be one of the first stops for anyone new to the world of cyberpunk. Within this book, Gibson expertly describes a near future where senses are turned up to the maximum; cities are illuminated by neon and giant screens, and humanity has augmented itself with technology. We are increasingly seeing a lot of this happening around us today.

 

One of the interesting things about Neuromancer is the prediction of the web and the Internet; this is a common theme amongst Cyberpunk—especially from the 80s where computing was just coming into the homes of ordinary people, and authors extrapolated how we would interact with the technology. Many stories feature networked computer systems, artificial intelligences, and characters that can manipulate these technologies.

 

More Than Just Technology

 

It’s fair to say that a lot of cyberpunk stories are centred on the technology and the humans that manipulate it to increase their talents/senses. But an often-overlooked aspect is the ‘punk’ part. Anarchic and dystopian settings regularly feature in a good cyberpunk story. The characters tend to be those living just outside of society’s rules: often criminals, hackers, or people intelligent enough to slip between the cracks and use the broken society to their advantage.

 

As we enter the information age, those who can control, aggregate, or create that information are the ones that rise to the top. We can see this today with the likes of Google, Facebook, and Twitter generating vast databases of information all generated by the people. A typical punk protagonist tends to be against the establishment, or looking for ways to break free from their increasingly restrictive grasp on their lives. In some senses, you could say these punks are anti-heroes. Much like the punks of the 70s.

 

Variations and Placement on the SF spectrum

 

Cyberpunk, much like horror or steampunk, can sometimes just be a flavour set atop another genre, or it can be wholly cyberpunk. It’s usually considered a sub-genre of science-fiction, and usually at the more realistic end as opposed to the more speculative end of the spectrum with such things as Space Opera or far-future stories. It’s not uncommon to find thrillers and noir settings with the Cyberpunk realm, especially as we move away from the 80s and early 90s where it had its heyday. We now see combinations of genres, such as cyberpunk/thriller, as our own technology starts to approach—and sometimes surpass—that of what was predicted in earlier novels.

 

It’s certainly a rich set of tropes and ideas that can be applied across the board of all speculative fiction. My own cyberpunk story, The Techxorcist, could be classified as a horror/sci-fi/thriller mashup, in that the story takes place in a cyberpunk future, but with elements of those other genres still visible within the tale.

 

I’d just like to take moment to thank Colin for his excellent post. You can find more about him here:

Website: www.colinfbarnes.com

Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/ColinFBarnes

 

He also has a new book out.

Artificial Evil: Book 1 of The Techxorcist is available as a paperback and ebook from:

 

Print $10.99 (£6.99)

Anachron Press | Amazon US | Amazon UK

 

 

eBook: $4.99 (£3.20)

Anachron Press | Amazon US | Amazon UK | Kobo

Cover and Sale

This is it, the road to publishing Born of Hatred has begun. Once I get the edits back from my wonderful editor, we’ll be ready to go.

To celebrate the fact that we’re almost there, I thought I’d do a little sale of Crimes Against Magic. So, from now until the end of the weekend, the Crimes Against Magic is only $3.99 (£2.59). You can go here to get a copy.

 

Amazon.com
Amazon.co.uk

In the meantime, I’m happy to share the incredible cover to Born of Hatred.

Once again, the cover was done by the wonderfully talented Eamon O’Donoghue. And no, that isn’t Nate on the cover.

I hope you all like it as much as I do, and have a good weekend.

Blurb – Born of Hatred

Okay, so I still don’t have a release date for Born of Hatred beyond saying in the next few weeks. For that I’m very sorry. In the last 2 weeks, I’ve had pneumonia and moved house. Not exactly the sort of things that make it easy to get things done. But once the cover and edits are back, it’ll be good to go.

In the meantime here’s the blurb for Born of Hatred:

There was a time when Nathan Garrett was feared. When the mention of his name was enough to stop his enemies in their tracks. That time has long since passed.

When Nathan’s friend asks for help investigating a pattern of horrific crimes, he reluctantly agrees. But his investigation leads to a serial killer who is something more, or less, than human, a creature of pure malevolence and hatred.

There are some things that even a 1600-year-old sorcerer hesitates to challenge. But when evil targets those Nathan cares about, his enemies will discover exactly who Nathan used to be. And why they will learn to fear him once more.

Born of Hatred is an action-packed, Urban Fantasy set in modern-day England with historical flashbacks to late nineteenth century Montana. It’s the second book of the Hellequin Chronicles, following the widely praised Crimes Against Magic, which introduced sorcerer Nathan Garrett.

Hopefully that will tide you over until I have more to tell. In the meantime, I’m arranging something frankly awesome as a competition for the launch of Born of Hatred, or thereabouts, and only those who have read Crimes Against Magic will be able to answer the question I’m going to ask. So, fair warning, if you haven’t gotten a copy yet, or read it, you may want to consider doing so. You can find out where to get a copy here.

Next Big Thing

Last week Tom Harris tagged me to do the Next Big Thing, a sort of publicity drive for authors, where we answer ten questions about their upcoming, or recently published work. You can read Tom’s great post, here.

So without further ado. Here’s the the answers to the ten questions about my upcoming book.

What is the working title of your book?

Born of Hatred (Book 2 of the Hellequin Chronicles)

Where did the idea come from for the book?

It was a natural progression of the story from book 1, Crimes Against Magic, which came out in April. But before then, I knew I wanted to deal with the undead, but not use Vampires or Zombies, the story sort of came from there.

What genre does your book fall under?

Urban Fantasy, although a few people have called it Action Adventure, which I’m perfectly okay with.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I don’t really think about who might play what character. But I think Michael Fassbender would do a good job as Nate. 

Eva Green would make a great Olivia.

Gerard Butler as Thomas Carpenter.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

I hate synopsis. Hate them. But I’d say:

The time when Nathan Garret was feared is long since passed, but when his friends are targeted by a relentless evil, those who stand in Nathan’s way will learn to fear him once again.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Like my first book, it’ll be self-published. I find it suits me very well at the moment.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

About four months. 

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Jim Butcher or Kelley Armstrong are the obvious ones, although we all write very different kinds of story.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?

I take my inspiration from things I’ll see, read or hear about during the day. So there was probably no one thing that inspired me. Unless you count my wife and daughters. They inspire me to write every single day.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

If you liked Crimes Against Magic, you’ll love Born of Hatred. And if you didn’t like Crimes Against Magic, well I think Born of Hatred is better written and an over all better book. But I’m sort of biased in thinking that.

And if you were interested in what I had to say, you should go read the following people’s Next Big Thing next week.

Colin F. Barnes – He has his up today, you can read it here. Colin is a quill-wielder of vibrant, edgy fiction, mixing sci-fi, horror and thrillers.

Paul Tobin – Paul has written hundred of comics, working with such characters as Spider-Man, Batman, and his own creations, Colder and Bandette. He also works for video game companies on projects like Angry Birds, and many others. His first novel, Prepare To Die! was released last summer to a wealth of delicious reviews.

Sean Patrick Traver - Sean writes about witches and weirdness in the City of Angels. Check out his world at www.SeanPatrickTraver.com.

Review Advice From a Newbie, to a Newbie.

This was meant to be posted last Thursday, but as I’m in the middle of moving house, I got precisely nothing written last week. Still, better late than never.

This is not my new house. Mine has a bigger moat.

So, your book has been published and people are buying it. Firstly, take a moment to realise how utterly awesome that is, because seriously, you are now in the minority of people who write. But at some point during your published life, you will get reviews. It stands to reason—if you sell books, you’ll get reviews.

Now, not everyone who reads your book will leave a review. From my experience about 0.5% of all sales will result in a review from a member of the public. At least on Amazon. Obviously that doesn’t include people you’ve asked to review the book, like bloggers.

And if those first reviews are good ones, you will feel over the moon. In fact every single time I see a 4 or 5 star review it makes me smile. To know that people out there are not only reading, but enjoying my work is an incredible feeling.

But there are times when you get a bad review. They will sting, and sometimes you’ll get angry about it. So here’s some advice for dealing with them and about reviewing yourself.

Sometimes you may even get ‘Ren angry’.

1. Do not reply to any review – Seriously, don’t do it. Not even if the reviewer has been nasty, or doesn’t appear to have actually read the book at all, just brush it aside. It’s easy to find a number of writers, artists, musicians who have done this and it hasn’t worked well for any of them. Sometimes it’s just better all round to shrug your shoulders and move on.

2. Do not give other writers bad reviews – Okay, this is just very much my own opinion, but giving bad reviews to other others is a terrible idea. Even if you don’t use your own name and you create an account just to do it (and really, if you have that much time, you need to get more writing done), it’s an extraordinarily bad idea. For a start if you ever get caught, you will be in the firing line –something that has happened to a few big name writers this year. But from a more human point of view, you’re all in the same boat. You’re all trying to get your work out there for people to read, and being negative about another writers work (review wise) just feels shitty to me. You can think someone’s work is dreadful, but actually officially stating it is just setting yourself up for criticism from others.

And that’s it. Basically, don’t let other people get to you and don’t be a dick to other people. If you don’t think you can handle bad reviews, stay away from Goodreads/Amazon and the like because they’re going to happen and you may as well accept that now. And the best way of dealing with a bad review? Write some more.