Olga Núñez Miret's Blog: Author Translator Olga, page 78
April 22, 2015
Letter S The April A to Z Blogging Challenge #AtoZChallenge
Thanks so much to Luccia Gray for asking me to contribute to her A to Z challenge talking about translations.
Originally posted on Rereading Jane Eyre :
April Author Spotlight 2015
Letter ���S��� is for Olga Nu��ez Miret, Spanish Translator and author
Why do I recommend translating your novel into Spanish?
Spanish is spoken by 410 million as a first language and by 90 million speakers as a second language. English has 360 million native speakers and 400 million speakers as a second language. By second language I mean people who speak the language as well as another language fluently. That means that there are almost 1,300 million fluent speakers of English and Spanish. That���s a huge number of people. It���s 300 million speakers more than Mandarin Chinese. (There are also over 600 million speakers of English as a foreign language with varying degrees of competency, but these are not included in the figures I���ve mentioned). It sounds like a good idea to have your book available to a wider audience, but I���ll let Olga tell you���
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April 20, 2015
Nueva #portada. El hombre que nunca existi��. Y revisitamos el primer post
Hola a todos:
Recordar��is que hace unas semanas os ped�� ayuda para cambiarle la portada a mi primera novela ‘El hombre que nunca existi��‘ con ocasi��n de una nueva edici��n corregida (gracias Paloma Caral) y de que llevaba tiempo pensando que no deber��a tener dos portadas distintas (una para la versi��n inglesa y otra para la versi��n en espa��ol) del mismo libro.
Gracias a vuestros comentarios, Lourdes Vidal (amiga y dise��adora) y yo (m��s ella que yo) nos decidimos por una portada nueva, y ya puestos, cambi�� las categor��as del libro (de hecho no creo que nunca llegue a encajar bien en ning��n sitio, a menos que como me dec��a una autora amiga, Martie, creen una categor��a para libros raro).
Encontr�� tambi��n los posts que hab��a dedicado al libro cuando empec�� el blog, que incluyen varias entrevistas donde los personajes hablan de sus experiencias, y como entonces no os conoc��a a muchos de vosotros, y con esta ocasi��n, se me ocurri�� compartir uno en el que Jes��s, el protagonista, nos cuenta c��mo entr�� en escena.
Primero, la portada:
El hombre que nunca existi��. Portada de Lourdes Vidal
Y aqu��, le cedo la palabra a Jes��s:
��Os hab��is preguntado alguna vez como os sentir��ais si la gente os juzgara con s��lo veros? Yo estoy acostumbrado a ello. Me llamo Jes��s y nac�� feo (bueno, supongo que sigo siendo feo, pero llevo tantos a��os vi��ndome que ya no me doy cuenta). Muy feo. Mi nacimiento de hecho se ha convertido en leyenda familiar,y sale a relucir cada vez que hay alguna reuni��n o acontecimiento de familia. Ya sab��is: bodas, bautizos, comuniones, entierros…
Mi abuela siempre me dice que yo le pegu�� un susto de muerte cuando nac��. Mi madre, Adelina, a la que nunca le gust�� hacer las cosas como los dem��s, decidi�� no ir al hospital y me tuvo en casa. Por lo visto estaba aullando como una desesperada (el m��dico lleg�� tarde. Andaba muy ocupado el buen hombre) y yo nac��…pues lo mejor que pude. Fotos no he visto, porque nadie se atrevi�� a sacarme una foto. Nac�� cubierto de pelo negro y abr�� los ojos al nacer, sin llorar ni nada. Mi abuela al verme cubierto de pelo (‘como un monito, me dec��a, y siempre a��ad��a, ‘pero a��n m��s feo y m��s peludo’) y con aquellos ojos exclam�� ‘Jes��s!’. Parece que se pens�� que yo era como el diablo.
Me qued�� con el nombre porque a nadie se le ocurri�� ninguno mejor, y pensaron que igual me proteger��a…
La cuesti��n es que la leyenda de mi nacimiento me ha seguido toda la vida, y todo el mundo me mira pregunt��ndose si de veras hay algo diab��lico en m�� y cuando se manifestar��. Hay que reconocer que la gente es algo tonta, pero mi cara y mi aspecto me ha complicado algo la vida. Aunque en realidad sospecho que mi vida habr��a sido complicada aunque me hubiera parecido a Johnny Depp.
El libro sigue estando disponible en��Amazon��y en algunos otros sitios (y estoy a la espera de su distribuci��n a algunos m��s).
Aqu�� os dejo el enlace en Amazon:
Y tambi��n:
Page Foundry:
Scribd:
Kobo:
Apple:
Y por si os interesa estar al d��a de otros lugares donde est��n disponibles mis libros, os dejo el enlace a mi p��gina de web.
Gracias a todos por la ayuda con la portada, gracias por leer, y ya sab��is, dadle al me gusta, comentad, compartid, y ��haced CLIC!
#Newcover ‘The Man Who Never Was’ and revisiting the first post about the novel
Hi all:
As you’ll remember, a few weeks ago I shared the previous versions of the cover for my first novel ‘The Man Who Never Was‘. Thanks so much for the replies that gave Lourdes (my friend and cover designer) and I plenty to go on and to think about.
Following on from that post, the book has a new cover, I have decided to change the categories (I don’t think it’ll ever easily fit anywhere, but as a friend and author [hi Martie!] said, we’ll have to keep waiting for the category for odd books to come alive). And looking back I remembered a series of posts that had a few of the characters of the book talking about themselves and the story. As at the time I didn’t know most of you, I thought I could leave you with the first one in the series, where Jes��s, the main character, introduces us to… well his big entrance.
First, the cover:
The Man Who Never Was (cover by Lourdes Vidal)
Here, Jes��s:
Have you ever wondered how your life would be if everybody judged you by the way you look? My name is Jes��s and that’s the stuff my life is made of. I was born ugly. Extremely ugly. (Well, I guess I’m still ugly, but I’ve been seeing myself like this for so long that I no longer notice the ugliness. I’ve probably grown immune to it. On the other hand most of the people I meet notice…a lot. Double take and all).
My birth is the stuff of legend. The story is repeated like a mantra in all family occasions. You know: weddings, birthdays, christenings, burials…My mother, Adelina, who’ve never wanted to do things like everybody else, decided not to go to hospital. She wanted a home birth. She wasn’t married and was staying with her parents. No, I never met my father, but that’s a long story…Anyway, it seems that my mother was screaming like a banshee (the doctor was very late. He was a busy man, poor guy) and when I was finally born and my grandmother took me in her arms I gave her a big fright. I’ve never seen any pictures of that moment ��(it seems nobody dared to take any considering my looks) but I’ve been reliably informed that I was all covered in black hair, head to toe.(At this point my grandmother always said: ‘like little monkey’ but she has to add, after the all important pause, ‘but uglier’) I didn’t cry and just opened my eyes, that have always been a bit special. My grandmother shouted ‘Jes��s’ in her fright. She said I looked like the devil (not sure how many encounters she’d had with the devil, but she seemed very confident on that matter).
Nobody came up with a better name, and I was left with the name ‘Jes��s’. It seems my mother liked it, and all agreed it might give me some protection.
I’ve lived all my life with people looking at me and expecting something malefic and special to manifest. It has been hard and it has made my life very complicated. All things considered, I don’t think that even if I had looked like Johnny Depp, my life would have been any less complicated.
The book is available in Amazon��and a few ��other places (I hope it will be available more widely. Hopefully, it’s only a matter of time).
Page Foundry:
Scribd:
Apple:
Kobo:
And just in case you want to keep abreast of any updates and other places where it will become available, I will be updating my website:
Thanks so much for your help coming up with the cover, thanks for reading, and you know, like, share, comment, and if you want, CLICK!
April 16, 2015
Novedad Literaria. ‘Sin miedo a vivir, sin miedo a so��ar’ de Lusa Guerrero. Un proyecto solidario que os abrir�� los horizontes.
Hola a todos:
Como sab��is los viernes os traigo nuevos libros y autores.
Hace un tiempo que conoc�� a Lusa Guerrero en Twitter (@LusaGuerrero), que no es solo muy generosa promocionando a otros autores sino que comparte Tweets que hacen que uno se pare a pensar, y le inspiran. Y por si hiciera falta a��n m��s, la historia de su proyecto solidario me decidi�� a tra��roslo aqu��.
Lusa hace tiempo que trabaja en su libro, y ahora ya est�� a la venta. De momento a trav��s de su propio blog, donde comparte los primeros cap��tulos. Os traigo el prefacio y los detalles de su blog para que lo pod��is visitar, ya que est�� lleno de material que os interesar��, y esto incluye informaci��n biogr��fica (ya que este libro es… bueno, id a leerlo y lo ver��is). Si busc��is un libro que os cambie la vida, no lo dud��is:
Sin miedo a vivir, sin miedo a so��ar de Lusa Guerrero
��SIN MIEDO A VIVIR, SIN MIEDO A SO��AR, SIN MIEDO A LUCHAR!
���Un cambio en nuestras vidas s�� es posible con la pr��ctica de la inteligencia emocional���
PR��LOGO
Si est��s leyendo estas l��neas,querr�� decir que por fin he realizado mi sue��o de escribir y publicar mi libro.
Desde hace a��os, escribo sobre mi vida. Es algo que hago para m�� misma y que me sirve de terapia. Sin embargo, pensar en publicar un libro sobre mis experiencias m��s personales e ��ntimas es un asunto mucho m��s serio. Ahora mi sue��o se ha hecho realidad. Lo he so��ado y visualizado; y he luchado para vencer todos los obst��culos hasta conseguirlo. Pero, sobre todo, lo he logrado gracias a quienes han cre��do en m�� y han apoyado mi sue��o: Personas que se convirtieron en mis mecenas durante los meses en que me he dedicado a escribir.
Hace mucho que empec�� a sentir la necesidad de compartir mis experiencias y aprendizajes con la ��nica intenci��n de ofrecer a los dem��s un testimonio de lucha y superaci��n. Es un sentimiento que surge de manera espont��nea en m�� cuando veo que muchas personas de mi entorno viven infelices y llenas de amargura a pesar de tenerlo todo.
Siempre he conseguido todo lo que he deseado intensamente con el coraz��n. De hecho, he alcanzado mis mayores logros en los momentos m��s cr��ticos de mi existencia. Dec��a un escritor que el ingenio se agudiza en los momentos de extrema dificultad, e imagino que eso es exactamente lo que me sucede a m��.
Escribir sobre mi pasado me ha venido muy bien para practicar el perd��n y reconciliarme con mis or��genes. Necesitaba retomar plenamente mi camino espiritual: durante muchos a��os mi vida gir�� en torno a asuntos m��s intelectuales, y otros m��s banales, y me alej�� un poco de esa b��squeda interior que hab��a iniciado tiempo atr��s. O quiz��s no, a lo mejor simplemente transit�� otro camino en el que viv�� otro tipo de experiencias,tal vez m��s pueriles, pero no por ello exentas de importantes lecciones, pues considero que toda experiencia y equivocaci��n en la vida es como un maestro que te ense��a y te hace crecer, siempre y cuando la mente y el coraz��n est��n abiertos al aprendizaje. Y yo nunca me he cerrado a la posibilidad de aprender y mejorar. En estos momentos, mi deseo es sentir de nuevo esa chispa interna que tanta plenitud dio siempre a mi existencia.
Amo la literatura y disfruto escribiendo; es algo que me sale del alma. Sin embargo, he de advertiros que no pretendo convertir este proyecto en una obra literaria, ya que no me considero una profesional de la escritura. Lo ��nico que deseo es transmitir con la mayor humildad posible mis experiencias con el prop��sito de ofrecer un mensaje de esperanza y armon��a a todo aquel que me lea.
Esta obra se compone de dos partes. La primera parte, narrada en primera persona,consiste en un relato detallado de mi vida. A fin de salvaguardar la identidad de las personas que figuran en ��l, he cambiado algunos nombres y lugares geogr��ficos. La segunda consta de mis reflexiones y pensamientos, los cuales no son m��s que el resultado de las experiencias que he vivido. Lo poco que s�� me lo ha ense��ado la vida, y las mejores herramientas que he encontrado en mi ajetreada existencia han sido siempre los libros y la reflexi��n.
He meditado mucho sobre si deb��a o no incluir algunos detalles escabrosos de mi vida, y tambi��n sobre la conveniencia de mencionar ciertas vivencias m��s intimas y personales que han marcado mi camino. Al final, he llegado a la decisi��n de que quiero escribir con sinceridad sobre mis experiencias, ya sean buenas o malas, mundanas o espirituales, sin perjuicio de que puedan agradar o no. Si no lo hiciera, no estar��a siendo fiel a mi forma de pensar y vivir.
Siempre he sido una persona socialmente comprometida,y por esa raz��n he decidido donar el 10% de los ingresos que obtenga con las ventas de esta obra a organizaciones no gubernamentales que luchan por la prevenci��n del alcoholismo y el apoyo a v��ctimas de la violencia dom��stica.
���Dorm��a…, dorm��a y so��aba que la vida no era m��s que alegr��a. Me despert�� y vi que la vida no era m��s que servir… y servir era alegr��a.”�� TAGORE
Si quer��is leer m��s:
http://linkis.com/lusaluz.blogspot.com/6etXM
All�� tambi��n pod��is conseguir una copia del libro, dedicada y enviada a vuestra casa.
Gracias a Lusa Guerrero por compartir este proyecto con nosotros, a todos vosotros por leer, y si os ha interesado, dadle al me gusta, comentad, compartid, y haced CLIC!
#Book Launch of ‘Demons & Pearls’ by PS Bartlett.
Hi all:
I’m lucky to know and share posts in the same blog as talented author PS Bartlett, so when I heard she had a new book coming up, and knowing how much you like all things ��pirate, I had to bring it here. We have the blurb, the fabulous cover, the links to the author’s sites, a great interview, the first chapter and I hope you’ll support the Thunderclap campaign. And now, here it is!
Demons & Pearls by PS Bartlett
Title: DEMONS & PEARLS
Author: P.S. Bartlett����
Release Day: April 14th, 2015
Genre: Historical Fiction/Adventure/Romance
Had I known the repercussions of murdering the captain of a pirate ship, I may have taken the time necessary to rethink the act. As if I���ve ever had a choice that didn���t involve a fight or at the very least, defending myself against some man, hell bent on destroying me or my kin.
All we wanted was our freedom. All we found were demons disguised as men.
A woman pirate needs friends, big strong male friends, to survive in this unforgiving land of thieves and murderers���at least until she gets on her feet. Of course, trying to find one person you can trust is like finding an oyster with a perfect pearl in it���you have to break a few shells and get your hands dirty. We were lucky. I found the biggest, baddest and most honorable man in the Caribbean and he just happened to be in the pearl business.��
��
PS Bartlett
Author Bio:
I was born on Valentine���s Day a long, long time ago in South Baltimore, Maryland, less than a mile from Fort McHenry and Federal Hill. I���m a very simple person. I love my life and am always striving to make it better for myself and my family.
I write, I draw and I still work full-time. I���ve been married for 20 years and together we have two sons, a daughter, three beautiful granddaughters and a ten year old Maine Coon cat named Columbus.��
Links:
Web Site: http://psbartlett.me/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/PSBartlett
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PSBartlett
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7012732.P_S_Bartlett
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/P.S.-Bartlett/e/B00CP4PF4U/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Instagram: Author_P.S.Bartlett
Interview with the author:
1) How old were you when you wrote your first piece?
I honestly don���t remember but I started very early writing poems. I used to make my own greeting cards as a child, complete with illustrations. I thought I would grow up to work for Hallmark.
2) What made you write it?
Lack of money I suppose and having plenty of ideas and art supplies.
3) What have you written since then?
Poetry, short stories, plays and in recent years, novels. I am about to publish my fourth novel in two years.
4) What was the inspiration for your current book?
My favorite inspiration; PIRATES!
5) Tell us a little about it, and where it���s available.
I���ve developed a pattern of what I call writing backwards. It sounds a little crazy I know but twice now, I���ve written a novel and instead of moving forward in time, I want to go back to the beginning and find out what makes my characters tick and why they became who they are.
This story is the beginning of Ivory Shepard. Ivory is a fictional character but the things she goes through and the life she lives as she is becoming the woman she ends up being, is authentically pirate based. Ivory and her cousins are orphaned at a young age during a Spanish raid on Charles Towne, South Carolina and left to fend for themselves. They end up surviving and doing well for themselves until one night, the pirates show up.
This book chronicles the lives of the four cousins as they embark on a journey to Port Royal aboard a pirate ship and what comes after. The next book in the series, Jaded Tides, will follow them even further into their lives as pirates.
6) Is there a particular place or setting where you get your writing ideas?
The easy answer is no. I can get ideas anywhere from sitting and watching television, reading or driving in my truck. It���s storing it all in my memory until I can get to my computer that is the challenge.
7) What made you choose either traditional or independent publishing?
I tried to go traditional but I was rejected so many times I can���t even remember. The only book I submitted to agents was my first novel, Fireflies. Fireflies went on to win awards, including the silver medal in paranormal fiction from Readers��� Favorite Book Reviews and Awards. I guess agents don���t always get it right.
8) If you had to choose the most important element in an author���s platform, what would it be?
Good relationships with other authors and peers in the industry. I have made friendships and connections with people that I believe will be life-long. We support each other through ideas, suggestions and encouragement, as well as advertising and social media.
9) What mistakes have you made in regards to publishing and marketing your work, and what will you do differently in the future?
I���m not sure if I���ve made any mistakes other than paying a good deal for certain types of advertising on book web sites. Other than that, my mistakes have all been learning experiences and we all have to make them in order to find our way.
11) Do you have an idea for your next book?
I actually have two books in the works right now. The first is Jaded Tides, which is the second book in the Razor���s Adventures series and it is almost half written. The second is collaboration with another writer on another book that will be a part of the series but will focus on a different main character. I don���t want to give any more away on that one though!
And now, a treat, the first chapter!
Caught in the middle of the Golden Age of Piracy, four young women, led by their eldest cousin, Ivory Shepard, have escaped a pirate raid and bought passage aboard a pirate ship to Port Royal, Jamaica.
With no more than their smarts and their will to carry them, they end up caught in a battle for their lives. They have been betrayed by the ship���s captain and unfortunately realize that as women, they are worse off in this new world than they were in the old one.
This is their story as told by Ivory Shepard, also known as���The Razor.
Chapter One
~No Quarter~
Had I known the repercussions of murdering the captain of a pirate ship, I may have taken the time necessary to rethink the act. However, as I stood over the bloody, lifeless body of Captain Christopher Barclay, as well as no less than seven of his crew, as usual it was too late to change my mind. Change my mind, indeed. As if I had a choice.
As if I���ve ever had a choice that didn���t involve a fight, or at the very least, defending myself against someone hell-bent on destroying me or my kin. I must always follow my instincts, regardless of the fallout of my actions. Had I not done so, I most certainly would not have lived to see the rest of this unspeakable day.
I pleaded with the Captain not to kill them all. If he���d have only been more of a man and less a murderous monster, perhaps this day may have ended for him as he lay down at last, safe and whole in his bunk. Alas, this was not to be. Instead, the surge of the battle within him overtook his senses, and he snatched me by the back of my neck.
���Miss Shepard, take your ladies below. And should these swabs be foolish enough to fight back, and God forbid we lose this fight, kill your cousins��� and then yourself. Trust me, you���ll not wish to draw breath should that pack of dogs board us.���
���I���ll send them below, but I���ll not pass up the chance at last to show your own pack of dogs who I am.��� What the hell was I thinking?
���It���s your pretty head. If the first sight of a sail dropped you to your knees, let���s hope you can stay on your feet when they bare their fangs and lunge at your throat.���
���I���ll live, Captain.�� And perhaps you haven���t noticed, but they���re not ladies anymore. Today shall prove that.��� We���d spent weeks in rags, cleaning up after pirates, listening to their vile comments, and working as virtual slaves in order to secure our passage to Jamaica. I wondered constantly why we hadn���t been violated yet, but I held onto the hope that a pirate could in fact, keep his word.
Perhaps I���d had enough and was ready for a fight. Considering I had fallen to my knees when I heard the call of ���Sail!��� and had shaken like a leaf at the sight of these men scrambling about, loading guns and making preparations for a fight, one would have thought I���d have run and hidden with my cousins.�� But, no; as usual, I had something to prove.
���Such a shame to waste such charms. Look at you,��� he said, taking me roughly by the jaw with his filthy paw, from which I jerked free instantly. ���You���ve lost your youthful glow to the harsh wind and sun, and if you ever had a tender inch, you���ve buried it beneath the vines of bitterness you���ve wrapped yourself in. Tell me, Ivory, who did this to you? Who plucked the rose and left the thorns?���
���Those who would step over that gunnel will meet my blade before another unwanted and indecent hand breaches my striking distance. I���ll remove that hand and take his arm as well, and if that doesn���t stop him, his head.���
���Such a tragedy you are, and since I���ve my own tragic story to write, it���s time to give back to the world what she���s bestowed upon us, my dear. Ready the guns! Do not fire until I give the order! She���s no fucking good in a million pieces!��� Barclay roared over our heads as he raced, broadsword in hand, to the stern and stood at her highest point. ���Shepard, get your skinny ass up here! You want to be free?���
���I will be free!��� I shouted at him. There was no turning back now.
���Bring her around! We���ll rake her from the bow and then take her from the starboard side!��� He barked to the helmsman. I���d never heard this voice before. It wasn���t a voice. It was the roar of a mighty lion, and the mere sound of it vibrated through my skin.
As his call to arms passed through me, a deafening hum pierced my brain and I sheathed my sword and cupped the sides of my head, in an attempt to silence it.�� When I let go, the only sound I heard was my own heartbeat, which I imagined was well over one hundred beats per minute. In the background, strangled beneath the thumping drumbeats that felt as if they were about to split my chest, were the thunderous cries of the crew. The muffled screams and fearsome bellows of men in search of blood and fortune were barely audible behind the wall of my excruciating terror.
I glanced up and over the side, watching as the panicked crew of our prey scrambled wildly about, dodging the incoming gunfire, obviously unprepared in both arms and numbers for such an assault. Unable to believe what I was seeing, I lowered my hands for a moment and swallowed hard. I watched in horror as the first man at the rail of our prize lost the left side of his skull in a spatter of bone and bloodied skin. The gun flew from his hands, and his feet left the deck simultaneously, sending him bouncing backwards out of this life and unnaturally into the next, as nothing more than a heap of dead flesh.
I think I screamed and then felt a pop deep within my eardrums. All at once, the echoes of deadly battle at last bashed their way in. Gunfire and the thumps and clinks of grappling hooks dropping to the deck in preparation to make capture were sharp, and what I could clearly see and hear was matched sight for sound at last.
���Fire!��� Barclay ordered. All five guns kicked back with a deafening boom, shaking the Demon Sea. I lost my footing from the jolt and coughed hard repeatedly as gunpowder and choking smoke filled the air. As we came about to the starboard side of what was obviously no more than a merchant ship, the smoke cleared in the windy spray, and Barclay called to hold fire. I looked across the water to find all those left standing shoulder to shoulder on their deck. Their arms were raised and their meager weapons lay at their feet. The damage done by what I knew to be chain shot���Barclay���s preferred method of maximum devastation���left blood, flesh, and splintered wood as far as my eyes could see.
���Take her lads; she���s all ours!��� Barclay shouted as he sheathed his sword and snatched me by the back of my neck again. ���Look, girl! Do you see those twenty or so swabs with their tails tucked in their asses? I���m about to give the order of no quarter. Do you know what that means?���
���No quarter?��� I asked, shaking free of his grip and pushing him off as I backed away in horror. ���Why? They surrendered, and yet you���d������
���That���s right, lass.�� Kill them all,��� he growled with a smile.
���That���s a coward���s maneuver, Barclay. Those aren���t pirates; they���re sailors trying to make a living.���
���We���re about to take their living. What will they have to live for, once it���s ours?��� Barclay���s eyes shined, and at last I could see the monster he truly was. I pulled my sword and pointed it at him as I lowered my head and looked up into his cold, dead eyes. ���Call them off. Take the loot and let the living go,��� I commanded.�� Once again, I had no idea what I was thinking. This was none of my affair, and yet something in me couldn���t bear the thought of what he planned to do.
Barclay burst into laughter. ���Hold your claws, little kitty, before I rip them out and feed you to the dogs!���
���We���ve been here before, remember? This time, I won���t stop when I pierce your yellow hide.���
���Oh, but you will,��� Barclay said with a smooth purr. Then, a thick forearm clamped around my neck from behind and pulled me off my feet. I dropped my sword and dug my nails into my assailant���s hard flesh, and I kicked him again and again. The more I resisted, the more his grip tightened against my throat. The man twisted and turned, causing me to swing from the neck down like a clock���s pendulum. With a loud pop and a violent jerk, his arm pulled free, and I was sent flying hard against the boards, flat on my face and struggling for air.
A second later, I raised my head and opened my eyes to find my attacker lying next to me. A gaping wound had opened from the back of his head straight through to what was left of his face. I was gasping for breath and rubbing my neck, but I managed to push myself up on one knee. Once my vision cleared, my eyes focused on my cousin, Cassandra, staring blankly down at the dead man with a smoldering pistol dangling from her left hand.
���Good shot, Cass. Duck,��� I shouted. I dove for my fallen sword, picked it up, and swung it at the sailor about to do mortal damage to Cassandra from behind. I leapt forward and opened the man���s throat with the tip of my blade and watched him fall.
���Get them,��� I heard Barclay order as he barreled towards me, but most of the crew had already gone over to the merchant ship, and but a handful remained. He swung wildly at me with his broadsword and nearly caught the sleeve of my shirt with his backswing, but I spun away before he could reach me. I recovered and swiped hard at him and met his blade low. The blow shook me, and my arms trembled, but there was no time to consider any such discomfort, or death would stifle any tremble or quake for good. Barclay came up from under with his sword, swirling mine and tossing it off. He came at me again with a powerful fore swing, and our blades rang out against each other.
His strength and force far outweighed mine, but that didn���t stop me. I was stronger and more powerful than I���d ever been, and although I stumbled, I stood back and balanced myself before striking out again. I knew I could not win this battle within a battle by force. I���d need to rely on my agility and skill with a sword in order to take down this man twice my size.
My arms felt like lead as I continued to combat Barclay on the quarterdeck. I evaded his swings long enough to notice my cousins fighting their own battles as well, dropping dead pirates one after the other. As with every struggle in our lives, their ferocious spirits gave me the strength to continue. With a renewed wind, I again engaged Barclay. With every meeting of our blades, I screamed from the agonizing pain in my arms that felt as if every muscle from my fingers to my neck were tearing away from the bone.
The moaning boards and hard tilting of the Demon caught my attention long enough to see my cousin, Miranda, swinging an axe and cutting us away from the merchant ship. Over the howls and cries of battle, I heard the familiar shouts and screams of my cousins hard at work to set us free. Barclay heard them as well, and he turned away from me for a moment when he too, realized what was happening. That was the window that opened him up to me.
I let out a scream. I released the roar of my own lion. With every bit of my heart, I swung that sword and struck him, slicing through the sleeve of his coat, tearing through his flesh until I felt the blade hit bone at his elbow as I followed through. Then, the ferocity of what I���d done stole my breath when I watched as his severed arm fell to the deck���his hand still clutching his sword.
Covered in his own blood, Barclay staggered to the gunnel, grappling at his bloodied stump. He fell to his left, catching himself on the rail under his arm, and he gritted his teeth as he looked up at me and groaned, ���I told you, didn���t I?���
���You���ve told me many things,��� I panted. ���None of which I find worth mentioning at the moment.���
���I told you���that you���were a pirate.��� His face crumpled in pain, and he drew long deep breaths between his words.
I tossed my head at him and moved in until the tip of my sword was mere inches from his nose. I wanted to end him; not only for what he���d tried to do to me, but for all of the atrocities he wore on his twisted face since the first time I���d laid eyes on him. ���What was that you said before about no quarter?���
���Look at me,��� Barclay groaned as he bled out from his severed limb, and then he laughed. ���I���m already dead.���
Possessed with the desire for more of his blood, I drew back my sword with calculated precision and pressed the point of my blade to his chest. His bloodshot eyes rolled down and stared at it for a moment, and he smiled, as if he knew what was coming. Through that peaceful grin, he let out a long sigh of relief, almost as if he welcomed the sharp tip into his body. Our eyes locked. The world had fallen completely still between us.�� The next thing I felt was his body weight pressed hard against me, until the brass buttons on his coat were pressed against my knuckles.
As his dying weight bore down on me and the wet heat of his blood flowed between us, I shoved him off of me and stumbled back. My eyes blew open as Barclay���s dead body fell away from me and the sword, soaked red, slid free of him and hung from my hand.
The gasps of my cousins revived me from my murderous trance, and the screams and violent splashing of men, either swimming for their lives or drowning, sent me again into action. My ever-at-alert cousin, Keara, asked, ���Now what do we do? Do you honestly think that lot will follow us? They were all loyal to Barclay.��� Then, she collapsed.
They all stared at me, waiting for me to speak. All I could think was what I���d heard; if anyone challenged the Captain and won, they had the right to claim the nomination to take his place. What did I know? I couldn���t just stand there and wait for the next thing to happen anymore. I had to take control. As I glanced around me at the half dozen or so dead sailors, remorse was overcome by pride in knowing we���d been able to, yet again, survive.
���We need a crew. Let���s go after that ship. Those merchant sailors will do, and the code says any man who wants to be Captain can, when they challenge the present Captain and win. I���d say I won, wouldn���t you?���
���You would be correct,��� said the very thick voice of a native Jamaican man as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere with his hands in the air.
���Where the hell did you come from?��� Keara asked, leaping to her bare feet and raising her sword at him.
���I have been here all along. I am no one, really; only a man who wishes to stay alive until we reach Jamaica.���
���Turn around,��� I ordered, and I nodded to Cassandra to search the huge man for weapons, of which he had none.
���I can assure you I am unarmed. I will obey the code. I only want to live so that I may return to Kingston once we make land.���
���What do you think, Ivory?��� Keara asked aside.
���Can you sail this ship?��� I asked him.
���That I can do, yes, but I will need assistance.���
���If you help me with that lot, I���ll take you to Kingston,��� I said, and I pointed my sword at the drifting ship.
���What about the crew?��� Cassandra asked me, but her eyes remained fixed on the stranger, and his captivating pale green eyes.
���Any man left standing will go free, but the ship is greatly damaged, so they won���t be going anywhere until they can make repairs. Let���s bring this bitch about and go get what we came for,��� I answered.
Once back aside the merchant ship, I told the Jamaican man to address the crew of the Demon Sea and offer to allow them to return to the ship. ���Anyone still willing to sail aboard the Demon is welcome back, and any able-bodied man aboard that ship is welcome to join the crew,��� he called out as the ships were again brought aside.
���Ye killed the Cap���n, did ye?��� Barclay���s bosun, Rip Townsend, called out to me.
I nodded in response. ���Self-defense.���
���I s���pose by order of the code, we have no choice but ta��� vote ye Cap���n. Doesn���t mean none of us like it, but we���ve only a few more days ���til we make Port Royal. Once we���re on land, you ain���t me Cap���n no more.���
���We���ll be heading first to Kingston,��� I stated, nodding at the Jamaican.
���Madame, if you would allow me to assist you,��� he leaned in and whispered.
���Assist me?��� Who in the hell did this dog think he was barking at?
���Madame, if I may please speak with you alone, I am sure that I can find a way to keep you and your ladies alive until we reach Kingston.���
���What do you mean, keep us alive?��� I barked back.
���Ivory, perhaps you can give the gentleman a chance,��� Cassandra whispered in my ear as she tapped me on the shoulder and drew my attention to the gathering mob of men behind us on the deck. Their faces bore the worn and ragged expressions of anger, mixed with the seawater and blood they���d dragged back aboard the Demon with them. My hands trembled as their ravenous eyes weighed and measured me, but I wasn���t immediately sure what they hungered. It was, however, instantly obvious that Barclay���s dead body meant only one thing to them���loss of future income. Somewhere between the oppressive midday sun and their encroaching footsteps, I found my frozen feet as well as my backbone, and my body turned towards them.
���Gentleman, please allow me to speak,��� I shouted to them in the deepest tone of voice I could dig out from my belly. All the while, I clutched the grip of my cutlass to steady my hand. There was no time to think, and even though I knew Barclay had used me to end himself, they weren���t going to hear any of it.
���Killin��� the Cap���n didn���t win ye anythin���, lass. You ain���t a pirate, and ye never will be,��� the boson growled. This was the same boson who, before he���d come back aboard, stated before the crew that according to the code I was Captain now. Of course, I knew nothing of the weight of the code or whether or not he was lying.
���Now let���s just hold on for a minute and assess the situation, shall we gents?��� suggested an older gentleman whom I had known since we came aboard as Barclay���s quartermaster, Willy McCormack. Willy appeared to be at least in his mid-fifties. Either that, or his years of drinking and pirating had taken its toll.
���By all due process, lassie, as quartermaster of this here Demon Sea and according to the code, this here ship falls ta��� me for a vote. Even under circumstances such as these, and to appease the uneasy temperament of the remaining crew as well as these here new fellas, the rules are as they are, so there���s gonna be a vote.�� But first, we need to get ta��� the bottom of this here incident.���
���A vote?��� I blurted out as I stepped toward the man and was handily held to an arm���s length by him.
���A vote is how it���s done, lass,��� he leaned into me and growled with a knowing in his eyes that he wished to relay something to me once out from under prying eyes and ears. ���Unless yer intention is ta��� end up in the drink��� or worse.��� He nodded.
I looked over the crew.�� In my mind, I began to count the numbers of those whom I���d saved from the merchant ship as opposed to the original sailors of the Demon. From what I could see the count was close. However, the doubts began to creep in that my few weeks aboard this vessel weren���t nearly enough to earn me a title���no matter who I killed or why. My only hope was that there were at least enough men on board who loathed Barclay and who���d be willing to tolerate the fact that I am a woman for three more days. Then, should they choose to abandon me in Kingston, so be it.
���Madame, may we please, please have a few words?��� the soft-spoken Jamaican man asked again.�� Finally, something within me turned, and as much as it pained me to admit it, I almost listened to him.
���Yes, but first, I have something to say to these men.���
From there I dashed to the gunnel and climbed until I stood atop it, holding onto the lines as the ship lightly tilted in the calm water. Cass, Miranda, and Keara clung to each other and followed, standing at my feet. I looked down at them in the scorching heat and watched as the blades clutched in their hands trembled as if it were below freezing.
���You do not know me, nor do you know these women,��� I stated.
���Aye, but I���d wait me turn,��� one of the sailors shouted, and they all began to laugh.
���Gentlemen, gentlemen, we have the merchant ship to relieve of her contents. She is yet seaworthy, and should you feel the Demon unsuitable, perhaps you will find your way elsewhere with her.��� The large and imposing figure of the man who���d now introduced himself to me as Alphonse Green had stepped forward to speak. I realized then that perhaps I should allow him my ear if I wanted to keep us alive. Rape and death at the hands of these beasts was not an option, and any alliances I might be so fortunate to forge were welcome. It had at last occurred to me that, in their world, there was but one place for a woman���regardless of how many dead men she knew. Unfortunately for them, their opinion of women had no bearing on me. My back was to the sea, and I did not intend to die at the hands of any man today.
���No woman can run a ship! The only woman I���m takin��� orders from is one who���s tellin��� me where to poke her,��� One of the original Demon crew who went by the name of Felix gave this rancid opinion, and once more they all laughed. Thankfully, Mister Green stepped forward in my defense.
���Listen, mates.�� For now, let us relieve the merchantman of her cargo and enjoy our victory. When all things are settled, we shall have our vote. Either way, we all win and fill our pockets. Aye?��� I believed that he was attempting to draw their attention away from me.
���Aye!��� the men roared in agreement.�� Mister Green turned to Willy and pulled him aside. For now, the rest appeared to concern themselves only with their quarry and turned away. But I wasn���t finished yet.
���Please gentlemen, hear me out.��� The words had barely left my mouth when I was caught unawares, swiftly disarmed, pulled violently from my perch, and thrown across the shoulder of Mister Green. ���Get your hands off me,��� I screamed through the crew���s roars of laughter. I was promptly relieved of my weapons, as were my cousins, who were corralled and led behind me. I was roughly shoved into what appeared to be the Captain���s quarters and tied to a chair.
As I sat there, alone in that dank, filthy cabin, awaiting my fate, I realized that although I am long on fight and will, I have come up quite short on the knowledge that, even in this other worldly place, a woman is worth about as much as a dog. My only salvation came in knowing we were alive, and regardless of what happened next, there was one less devil in the world. I could at least be proud of the fact that I was responsible for sending his black soul back to hell.
Of course, the link to the book:
http://www.amazon.com/Demons-Pearls-Razors-Adventures-Book-ebook/dp/B00VQQPOKS/
And please, do support the author’s Thunderclap campaign:
My Thunderclap:��https://www.thunderclap.it/projects/24769-hoist-the-colors-mates
Thanks very much to PS Bartlett for this opportunity, thanks to you for reading, and remember to like, share, comment, CLICK and support her campaign!
#Book Launch of ‘Pearls & Demons’ by PS Bartlett.
Hi all:
I’m lucky to know and share posts in the same blog as talented author PS Bartlett, so when I heard she had a new book coming up, and knowing how much you like all things ��pirate, I had to bring it here. We have the blurb, the fabulous cover, the links to the author’s sites, a great interview, the first chapter and I hope you’ll support the Thunderclap campaign. And now, here it is!
Demons & Pearls by PS Bartlett
Title: DEMONS & PEARLS
Author: P.S. Bartlett����
Release Day: April 14th, 2015
Genre: Historical Fiction/Adventure/Romance
Had I known the repercussions of murdering the captain of a pirate ship, I may have taken the time necessary to rethink the act. As if I���ve ever had a choice that didn���t involve a fight or at the very least, defending myself against some man, hell bent on destroying me or my kin.
All we wanted was our freedom. All we found were demons disguised as men.
A woman pirate needs friends, big strong male friends, to survive in this unforgiving land of thieves and murderers���at least until she gets on her feet. Of course, trying to find one person you can trust is like finding an oyster with a perfect pearl in it���you have to break a few shells and get your hands dirty. We were lucky. I found the biggest, baddest and most honorable man in the Caribbean and he just happened to be in the pearl business.��
��
PS Bartlett
Author Bio:
I was born on Valentine���s Day a long, long time ago in South Baltimore, Maryland, less than a mile from Fort McHenry and Federal Hill. I���m a very simple person. I love my life and am always striving to make it better for myself and my family.
I write, I draw and I still work full-time. I���ve been married for 20 years and together we have two sons, a daughter, three beautiful granddaughters and a ten year old Maine Coon cat named Columbus.��
Links:
Web Site: http://psbartlett.me/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/PSBartlett
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PSBartlett
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7012732.P_S_Bartlett
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/P.S.-Bartlett/e/B00CP4PF4U/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1
Instagram: Author_P.S.Bartlett
Interview with the author:
1) How old were you when you wrote your first piece?
I honestly don���t remember but I started very early writing poems. I used to make my own greeting cards as a child, complete with illustrations. I thought I would grow up to work for Hallmark.
2) What made you write it?
Lack of money I suppose and having plenty of ideas and art supplies.
3) What have you written since then?
Poetry, short stories, plays and in recent years, novels. I am about to publish my fourth novel in two years.
4) What was the inspiration for your current book?
My favorite inspiration; PIRATES!
5) Tell us a little about it, and where it���s available.
I���ve developed a pattern of what I call writing backwards. It sounds a little crazy I know but twice now, I���ve written a novel and instead of moving forward in time, I want to go back to the beginning and find out what makes my characters tick and why they became who they are.
This story is the beginning of Ivory Shepard. Ivory is a fictional character but the things she goes through and the life she lives as she is becoming the woman she ends up being, is authentically pirate based. Ivory and her cousins are orphaned at a young age during a Spanish raid on Charles Towne, South Carolina and left to fend for themselves. They end up surviving and doing well for themselves until one night, the pirates show up.
This book chronicles the lives of the four cousins as they embark on a journey to Port Royal aboard a pirate ship and what comes after. The next book in the series, Jaded Tides, will follow them even further into their lives as pirates.
6) Is there a particular place or setting where you get your writing ideas?
The easy answer is no. I can get ideas anywhere from sitting and watching television, reading or driving in my truck. It���s storing it all in my memory until I can get to my computer that is the challenge.
7) What made you choose either traditional or independent publishing?
I tried to go traditional but I was rejected so many times I can���t even remember. The only book I submitted to agents was my first novel, Fireflies. Fireflies went on to win awards, including the silver medal in paranormal fiction from Readers��� Favorite Book Reviews and Awards. I guess agents don���t always get it right.
8) If you had to choose the most important element in an author���s platform, what would it be?
Good relationships with other authors and peers in the industry. I have made friendships and connections with people that I believe will be life-long. We support each other through ideas, suggestions and encouragement, as well as advertising and social media.
9) What mistakes have you made in regards to publishing and marketing your work, and what will you do differently in the future?
I���m not sure if I���ve made any mistakes other than paying a good deal for certain types of advertising on book web sites. Other than that, my mistakes have all been learning experiences and we all have to make them in order to find our way.
11) Do you have an idea for your next book?
I actually have two books in the works right now. The first is Jaded Tides, which is the second book in the Razor���s Adventures series and it is almost half written. The second is collaboration with another writer on another book that will be a part of the series but will focus on a different main character. I don���t want to give any more away on that one though!
And now, a treat, the first chapter!
Caught in the middle of the Golden Age of Piracy, four young women, led by their eldest cousin, Ivory Shepard, have escaped a pirate raid and bought passage aboard a pirate ship to Port Royal, Jamaica.
With no more than their smarts and their will to carry them, they end up caught in a battle for their lives. They have been betrayed by the ship���s captain and unfortunately realize that as women, they are worse off in this new world than they were in the old one.
This is their story as told by Ivory Shepard, also known as���The Razor.
Chapter One
~No Quarter~
Had I known the repercussions of murdering the captain of a pirate ship, I may have taken the time necessary to rethink the act. However, as I stood over the bloody, lifeless body of Captain Christopher Barclay, as well as no less than seven of his crew, as usual it was too late to change my mind. Change my mind, indeed. As if I had a choice.
As if I���ve ever had a choice that didn���t involve a fight, or at the very least, defending myself against someone hell-bent on destroying me or my kin. I must always follow my instincts, regardless of the fallout of my actions. Had I not done so, I most certainly would not have lived to see the rest of this unspeakable day.
I pleaded with the Captain not to kill them all. If he���d have only been more of a man and less a murderous monster, perhaps this day may have ended for him as he lay down at last, safe and whole in his bunk. Alas, this was not to be. Instead, the surge of the battle within him overtook his senses, and he snatched me by the back of my neck.
���Miss Shepard, take your ladies below. And should these swabs be foolish enough to fight back, and God forbid we lose this fight, kill your cousins��� and then yourself. Trust me, you���ll not wish to draw breath should that pack of dogs board us.���
���I���ll send them below, but I���ll not pass up the chance at last to show your own pack of dogs who I am.��� What the hell was I thinking?
���It���s your pretty head. If the first sight of a sail dropped you to your knees, let���s hope you can stay on your feet when they bare their fangs and lunge at your throat.���
���I���ll live, Captain.�� And perhaps you haven���t noticed, but they���re not ladies anymore. Today shall prove that.��� We���d spent weeks in rags, cleaning up after pirates, listening to their vile comments, and working as virtual slaves in order to secure our passage to Jamaica. I wondered constantly why we hadn���t been violated yet, but I held onto the hope that a pirate could in fact, keep his word.
Perhaps I���d had enough and was ready for a fight. Considering I had fallen to my knees when I heard the call of ���Sail!��� and had shaken like a leaf at the sight of these men scrambling about, loading guns and making preparations for a fight, one would have thought I���d have run and hidden with my cousins.�� But, no; as usual, I had something to prove.
���Such a shame to waste such charms. Look at you,��� he said, taking me roughly by the jaw with his filthy paw, from which I jerked free instantly. ���You���ve lost your youthful glow to the harsh wind and sun, and if you ever had a tender inch, you���ve buried it beneath the vines of bitterness you���ve wrapped yourself in. Tell me, Ivory, who did this to you? Who plucked the rose and left the thorns?���
���Those who would step over that gunnel will meet my blade before another unwanted and indecent hand breaches my striking distance. I���ll remove that hand and take his arm as well, and if that doesn���t stop him, his head.���
���Such a tragedy you are, and since I���ve my own tragic story to write, it���s time to give back to the world what she���s bestowed upon us, my dear. Ready the guns! Do not fire until I give the order! She���s no fucking good in a million pieces!��� Barclay roared over our heads as he raced, broadsword in hand, to the stern and stood at her highest point. ���Shepard, get your skinny ass up here! You want to be free?���
���I will be free!��� I shouted at him. There was no turning back now.
���Bring her around! We���ll rake her from the bow and then take her from the starboard side!��� He barked to the helmsman. I���d never heard this voice before. It wasn���t a voice. It was the roar of a mighty lion, and the mere sound of it vibrated through my skin.
As his call to arms passed through me, a deafening hum pierced my brain and I sheathed my sword and cupped the sides of my head, in an attempt to silence it.�� When I let go, the only sound I heard was my own heartbeat, which I imagined was well over one hundred beats per minute. In the background, strangled beneath the thumping drumbeats that felt as if they were about to split my chest, were the thunderous cries of the crew. The muffled screams and fearsome bellows of men in search of blood and fortune were barely audible behind the wall of my excruciating terror.
I glanced up and over the side, watching as the panicked crew of our prey scrambled wildly about, dodging the incoming gunfire, obviously unprepared in both arms and numbers for such an assault. Unable to believe what I was seeing, I lowered my hands for a moment and swallowed hard. I watched in horror as the first man at the rail of our prize lost the left side of his skull in a spatter of bone and bloodied skin. The gun flew from his hands, and his feet left the deck simultaneously, sending him bouncing backwards out of this life and unnaturally into the next, as nothing more than a heap of dead flesh.
I think I screamed and then felt a pop deep within my eardrums. All at once, the echoes of deadly battle at last bashed their way in. Gunfire and the thumps and clinks of grappling hooks dropping to the deck in preparation to make capture were sharp, and what I could clearly see and hear was matched sight for sound at last.
���Fire!��� Barclay ordered. All five guns kicked back with a deafening boom, shaking the Demon Sea. I lost my footing from the jolt and coughed hard repeatedly as gunpowder and choking smoke filled the air. As we came about to the starboard side of what was obviously no more than a merchant ship, the smoke cleared in the windy spray, and Barclay called to hold fire. I looked across the water to find all those left standing shoulder to shoulder on their deck. Their arms were raised and their meager weapons lay at their feet. The damage done by what I knew to be chain shot���Barclay���s preferred method of maximum devastation���left blood, flesh, and splintered wood as far as my eyes could see.
���Take her lads; she���s all ours!��� Barclay shouted as he sheathed his sword and snatched me by the back of my neck again. ���Look, girl! Do you see those twenty or so swabs with their tails tucked in their asses? I���m about to give the order of no quarter. Do you know what that means?���
���No quarter?��� I asked, shaking free of his grip and pushing him off as I backed away in horror. ���Why? They surrendered, and yet you���d������
���That���s right, lass.�� Kill them all,��� he growled with a smile.
���That���s a coward���s maneuver, Barclay. Those aren���t pirates; they���re sailors trying to make a living.���
���We���re about to take their living. What will they have to live for, once it���s ours?��� Barclay���s eyes shined, and at last I could see the monster he truly was. I pulled my sword and pointed it at him as I lowered my head and looked up into his cold, dead eyes. ���Call them off. Take the loot and let the living go,��� I commanded.�� Once again, I had no idea what I was thinking. This was none of my affair, and yet something in me couldn���t bear the thought of what he planned to do.
Barclay burst into laughter. ���Hold your claws, little kitty, before I rip them out and feed you to the dogs!���
���We���ve been here before, remember? This time, I won���t stop when I pierce your yellow hide.���
���Oh, but you will,��� Barclay said with a smooth purr. Then, a thick forearm clamped around my neck from behind and pulled me off my feet. I dropped my sword and dug my nails into my assailant���s hard flesh, and I kicked him again and again. The more I resisted, the more his grip tightened against my throat. The man twisted and turned, causing me to swing from the neck down like a clock���s pendulum. With a loud pop and a violent jerk, his arm pulled free, and I was sent flying hard against the boards, flat on my face and struggling for air.
A second later, I raised my head and opened my eyes to find my attacker lying next to me. A gaping wound had opened from the back of his head straight through to what was left of his face. I was gasping for breath and rubbing my neck, but I managed to push myself up on one knee. Once my vision cleared, my eyes focused on my cousin, Cassandra, staring blankly down at the dead man with a smoldering pistol dangling from her left hand.
���Good shot, Cass. Duck,��� I shouted. I dove for my fallen sword, picked it up, and swung it at the sailor about to do mortal damage to Cassandra from behind. I leapt forward and opened the man���s throat with the tip of my blade and watched him fall.
���Get them,��� I heard Barclay order as he barreled towards me, but most of the crew had already gone over to the merchant ship, and but a handful remained. He swung wildly at me with his broadsword and nearly caught the sleeve of my shirt with his backswing, but I spun away before he could reach me. I recovered and swiped hard at him and met his blade low. The blow shook me, and my arms trembled, but there was no time to consider any such discomfort, or death would stifle any tremble or quake for good. Barclay came up from under with his sword, swirling mine and tossing it off. He came at me again with a powerful fore swing, and our blades rang out against each other.
His strength and force far outweighed mine, but that didn���t stop me. I was stronger and more powerful than I���d ever been, and although I stumbled, I stood back and balanced myself before striking out again. I knew I could not win this battle within a battle by force. I���d need to rely on my agility and skill with a sword in order to take down this man twice my size.
My arms felt like lead as I continued to combat Barclay on the quarterdeck. I evaded his swings long enough to notice my cousins fighting their own battles as well, dropping dead pirates one after the other. As with every struggle in our lives, their ferocious spirits gave me the strength to continue. With a renewed wind, I again engaged Barclay. With every meeting of our blades, I screamed from the agonizing pain in my arms that felt as if every muscle from my fingers to my neck were tearing away from the bone.
The moaning boards and hard tilting of the Demon caught my attention long enough to see my cousin, Miranda, swinging an axe and cutting us away from the merchant ship. Over the howls and cries of battle, I heard the familiar shouts and screams of my cousins hard at work to set us free. Barclay heard them as well, and he turned away from me for a moment when he too, realized what was happening. That was the window that opened him up to me.
I let out a scream. I released the roar of my own lion. With every bit of my heart, I swung that sword and struck him, slicing through the sleeve of his coat, tearing through his flesh until I felt the blade hit bone at his elbow as I followed through. Then, the ferocity of what I���d done stole my breath when I watched as his severed arm fell to the deck���his hand still clutching his sword.
Covered in his own blood, Barclay staggered to the gunnel, grappling at his bloodied stump. He fell to his left, catching himself on the rail under his arm, and he gritted his teeth as he looked up at me and groaned, ���I told you, didn���t I?���
���You���ve told me many things,��� I panted. ���None of which I find worth mentioning at the moment.���
���I told you���that you���were a pirate.��� His face crumpled in pain, and he drew long deep breaths between his words.
I tossed my head at him and moved in until the tip of my sword was mere inches from his nose. I wanted to end him; not only for what he���d tried to do to me, but for all of the atrocities he wore on his twisted face since the first time I���d laid eyes on him. ���What was that you said before about no quarter?���
���Look at me,��� Barclay groaned as he bled out from his severed limb, and then he laughed. ���I���m already dead.���
Possessed with the desire for more of his blood, I drew back my sword with calculated precision and pressed the point of my blade to his chest. His bloodshot eyes rolled down and stared at it for a moment, and he smiled, as if he knew what was coming. Through that peaceful grin, he let out a long sigh of relief, almost as if he welcomed the sharp tip into his body. Our eyes locked. The world had fallen completely still between us.�� The next thing I felt was his body weight pressed hard against me, until the brass buttons on his coat were pressed against my knuckles.
As his dying weight bore down on me and the wet heat of his blood flowed between us, I shoved him off of me and stumbled back. My eyes blew open as Barclay���s dead body fell away from me and the sword, soaked red, slid free of him and hung from my hand.
The gasps of my cousins revived me from my murderous trance, and the screams and violent splashing of men, either swimming for their lives or drowning, sent me again into action. My ever-at-alert cousin, Keara, asked, ���Now what do we do? Do you honestly think that lot will follow us? They were all loyal to Barclay.��� Then, she collapsed.
They all stared at me, waiting for me to speak. All I could think was what I���d heard; if anyone challenged the Captain and won, they had the right to claim the nomination to take his place. What did I know? I couldn���t just stand there and wait for the next thing to happen anymore. I had to take control. As I glanced around me at the half dozen or so dead sailors, remorse was overcome by pride in knowing we���d been able to, yet again, survive.
���We need a crew. Let���s go after that ship. Those merchant sailors will do, and the code says any man who wants to be Captain can, when they challenge the present Captain and win. I���d say I won, wouldn���t you?���
���You would be correct,��� said the very thick voice of a native Jamaican man as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere with his hands in the air.
���Where the hell did you come from?��� Keara asked, leaping to her bare feet and raising her sword at him.
���I have been here all along. I am no one, really; only a man who wishes to stay alive until we reach Jamaica.���
���Turn around,��� I ordered, and I nodded to Cassandra to search the huge man for weapons, of which he had none.
���I can assure you I am unarmed. I will obey the code. I only want to live so that I may return to Kingston once we make land.���
���What do you think, Ivory?��� Keara asked aside.
���Can you sail this ship?��� I asked him.
���That I can do, yes, but I will need assistance.���
���If you help me with that lot, I���ll take you to Kingston,��� I said, and I pointed my sword at the drifting ship.
���What about the crew?��� Cassandra asked me, but her eyes remained fixed on the stranger, and his captivating pale green eyes.
���Any man left standing will go free, but the ship is greatly damaged, so they won���t be going anywhere until they can make repairs. Let���s bring this bitch about and go get what we came for,��� I answered.
Once back aside the merchant ship, I told the Jamaican man to address the crew of the Demon Sea and offer to allow them to return to the ship. ���Anyone still willing to sail aboard the Demon is welcome back, and any able-bodied man aboard that ship is welcome to join the crew,��� he called out as the ships were again brought aside.
���Ye killed the Cap���n, did ye?��� Barclay���s bosun, Rip Townsend, called out to me.
I nodded in response. ���Self-defense.���
���I s���pose by order of the code, we have no choice but ta��� vote ye Cap���n. Doesn���t mean none of us like it, but we���ve only a few more days ���til we make Port Royal. Once we���re on land, you ain���t me Cap���n no more.���
���We���ll be heading first to Kingston,��� I stated, nodding at the Jamaican.
���Madame, if you would allow me to assist you,��� he leaned in and whispered.
���Assist me?��� Who in the hell did this dog think he was barking at?
���Madame, if I may please speak with you alone, I am sure that I can find a way to keep you and your ladies alive until we reach Kingston.���
���What do you mean, keep us alive?��� I barked back.
���Ivory, perhaps you can give the gentleman a chance,��� Cassandra whispered in my ear as she tapped me on the shoulder and drew my attention to the gathering mob of men behind us on the deck. Their faces bore the worn and ragged expressions of anger, mixed with the seawater and blood they���d dragged back aboard the Demon with them. My hands trembled as their ravenous eyes weighed and measured me, but I wasn���t immediately sure what they hungered. It was, however, instantly obvious that Barclay���s dead body meant only one thing to them���loss of future income. Somewhere between the oppressive midday sun and their encroaching footsteps, I found my frozen feet as well as my backbone, and my body turned towards them.
���Gentleman, please allow me to speak,��� I shouted to them in the deepest tone of voice I could dig out from my belly. All the while, I clutched the grip of my cutlass to steady my hand. There was no time to think, and even though I knew Barclay had used me to end himself, they weren���t going to hear any of it.
���Killin��� the Cap���n didn���t win ye anythin���, lass. You ain���t a pirate, and ye never will be,��� the boson growled. This was the same boson who, before he���d come back aboard, stated before the crew that according to the code I was Captain now. Of course, I knew nothing of the weight of the code or whether or not he was lying.
���Now let���s just hold on for a minute and assess the situation, shall we gents?��� suggested an older gentleman whom I had known since we came aboard as Barclay���s quartermaster, Willy McCormack. Willy appeared to be at least in his mid-fifties. Either that, or his years of drinking and pirating had taken its toll.
���By all due process, lassie, as quartermaster of this here Demon Sea and according to the code, this here ship falls ta��� me for a vote. Even under circumstances such as these, and to appease the uneasy temperament of the remaining crew as well as these here new fellas, the rules are as they are, so there���s gonna be a vote.�� But first, we need to get ta��� the bottom of this here incident.���
���A vote?��� I blurted out as I stepped toward the man and was handily held to an arm���s length by him.
���A vote is how it���s done, lass,��� he leaned into me and growled with a knowing in his eyes that he wished to relay something to me once out from under prying eyes and ears. ���Unless yer intention is ta��� end up in the drink��� or worse.��� He nodded.
I looked over the crew.�� In my mind, I began to count the numbers of those whom I���d saved from the merchant ship as opposed to the original sailors of the Demon. From what I could see the count was close. However, the doubts began to creep in that my few weeks aboard this vessel weren���t nearly enough to earn me a title���no matter who I killed or why. My only hope was that there were at least enough men on board who loathed Barclay and who���d be willing to tolerate the fact that I am a woman for three more days. Then, should they choose to abandon me in Kingston, so be it.
���Madame, may we please, please have a few words?��� the soft-spoken Jamaican man asked again.�� Finally, something within me turned, and as much as it pained me to admit it, I almost listened to him.
���Yes, but first, I have something to say to these men.���
From there I dashed to the gunnel and climbed until I stood atop it, holding onto the lines as the ship lightly tilted in the calm water. Cass, Miranda, and Keara clung to each other and followed, standing at my feet. I looked down at them in the scorching heat and watched as the blades clutched in their hands trembled as if it were below freezing.
���You do not know me, nor do you know these women,��� I stated.
���Aye, but I���d wait me turn,��� one of the sailors shouted, and they all began to laugh.
���Gentlemen, gentlemen, we have the merchant ship to relieve of her contents. She is yet seaworthy, and should you feel the Demon unsuitable, perhaps you will find your way elsewhere with her.��� The large and imposing figure of the man who���d now introduced himself to me as Alphonse Green had stepped forward to speak. I realized then that perhaps I should allow him my ear if I wanted to keep us alive. Rape and death at the hands of these beasts was not an option, and any alliances I might be so fortunate to forge were welcome. It had at last occurred to me that, in their world, there was but one place for a woman���regardless of how many dead men she knew. Unfortunately for them, their opinion of women had no bearing on me. My back was to the sea, and I did not intend to die at the hands of any man today.
���No woman can run a ship! The only woman I���m takin��� orders from is one who���s tellin��� me where to poke her,��� One of the original Demon crew who went by the name of Felix gave this rancid opinion, and once more they all laughed. Thankfully, Mister Green stepped forward in my defense.
���Listen, mates.�� For now, let us relieve the merchantman of her cargo and enjoy our victory. When all things are settled, we shall have our vote. Either way, we all win and fill our pockets. Aye?��� I believed that he was attempting to draw their attention away from me.
���Aye!��� the men roared in agreement.�� Mister Green turned to Willy and pulled him aside. For now, the rest appeared to concern themselves only with their quarry and turned away. But I wasn���t finished yet.
���Please gentlemen, hear me out.��� The words had barely left my mouth when I was caught unawares, swiftly disarmed, pulled violently from my perch, and thrown across the shoulder of Mister Green. ���Get your hands off me,��� I screamed through the crew���s roars of laughter. I was promptly relieved of my weapons, as were my cousins, who were corralled and led behind me. I was roughly shoved into what appeared to be the Captain���s quarters and tied to a chair.
As I sat there, alone in that dank, filthy cabin, awaiting my fate, I realized that although I am long on fight and will, I have come up quite short on the knowledge that, even in this other worldly place, a woman is worth about as much as a dog. My only salvation came in knowing we were alive, and regardless of what happened next, there was one less devil in the world. I could at least be proud of the fact that I was responsible for sending his black soul back to hell.
Of course, the link to the book:
http://www.amazon.com/Demons-Pearls-Razors-Adventures-Book-ebook/dp/B00VQQPOKS/
And please, do support the author’s Thunderclap campaign:
My Thunderclap:��https://www.thunderclap.it/projects/24769-hoist-the-colors-mates
Thanks very much to PS Bartlett for this opportunity, thanks to you for reading, and remember to like, share, comment, CLICK and support her campaign!
April 13, 2015
#Rese��a #libro ‘Encrucijada a medianoche’ de Charlaine Harris. Vampiros, brujas, psic��patas y muchos secretos.
Hola a todos:
Como sab��is leo y rese��o y comparto las rese��as en muchos sitios. Hace poco le�� la nueva novela de Charlaine Harris en ingl��s, la primera en una nueva trilog��a, y hace unos d��as vi que estaba traducida y disponible en espa��ol, as�� que, aqu�� os la traigo. Mi ��nica advertencia es que no s�� qu�� tal es la traducci��n (la descripci��n en Amazon no me pareci�� muy buena, pero no creo que eso sea indicaci��n de la calidad del libro).
Encrucijada a medianoche de Charlaine Harris
Primer cap��tulo de la nueva trilog��a de Charlaine Harris, N��1 en EE.UU. Con la serie True Blood.
Bienvenido a Midnight, Texas, una ciudad con muchas ventanas cubiertas y pocos habitantes de tiempo completo. Es una ciudad reseca bastante estandar del viejo oeste. Hay una casa de empe��o (alguien vive en el s��tano y es visto solo por la noche). Hay un comedor (personas que estan de paso no suelen permanecer). Y hay un nuevo residente, Manfred Bernardo, quien cree haber encontrado el lugar perfecto para trabajar en privado (y que tiene sus propios secretos). Pararse en un semaforo en la ciudad, todo parece normal. Qu��dese un rato y conozca la verdad.
En Kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/Encrucijada-medianoche-Spanish-Charlaine-Harris-ebook/dp/B00S6F2IEW/
En papel:
http://www.amazon.com/Encrucijada-medianoche-Spanish-Edition-Charlaine/dp/846665593X/
Y aqu�� mi rese��a:
He le��do unas cuantas de las novelas de Charlaine Harris con anterioridad, un par de novelas de la colecci��n de Sookie Stackhouse (Trueblood) pero tambi��n un par que no pertenec��an a la serie, y me sent��a intrigada por esta novela que anuncia el inicio de una nueva serie.
Medianoche es una ciudad casi-fantasma adonde llega Manfred, un hombre joven con poderes ps��quicos que trabaja como adivino por internet y por consulta telef��nica (aunque la mayor��a de sus consejos no tienen nada que ver con sus verdaderas habilidades), al principio de esta novela. Su llegada sirve como presentaci��n y gu��a tambi��n para los lectores y el primer cap��tulo es en su mayor parte una descripci��n de la ciudad y sus habitantes. Aparte de ser un sitio tranquilo, parece que los ciudadanos han adoptado una pol��tica de no inmiscuirse en los asuntos de los dem��s ni preguntar nada personal. Algunos personajes parecen tener sus secretos mejor escondidos que otros, pero mi impresi��n es que a medida que se vaya desarrollando la serie descubriremos cosas misteriosas de la mayor��a (si no todos) los personajes.
Los habitantes descubren un asesinato (durante el primer, y probablemente ��ltimo, picnic anual de Medianoche) y la investigaci��n y la complicaciones que resultan de ello hace que se descubran muchos de los secretos que hasta entonces hab��an estado bien guardados.
El elenco de personajes es prometedor (el�� reverendo con su cementerio de animales, Fiji, una bruja blanca, y su gato tan especial, Bobo, Olivia y Lemuel���), el escenario lo suficientemente interesante,�� y la historia central intrigante y yo no adivin�� qui��n era el culpable. La maestr��a de Harris se deja ver en su estilo de escritura que no se hace notar pero se adapta perfectamente a la historia, y la narraci��n omnisciente en tercera persona que toma el punto de vista de los diferentes personajes, nos ayuda a empatizar y a conocer mejor a algunos de ellos (aunque, por supuesto, no a todos). Hay elementos paranormales, un vampiro y su novia humana que forman una pareja mortal (pero buenos amigos de sus amigos), magia, tiendas de empe��os raras, grupos supremacistas blancos, mentiras, fiestas de Halloween, comidas casera, un tipo de justicia algo personal, y una cuesti��n moral/��tica que os har�� pensar y reflexionar qu�� har��ais vosotros.
Encrucijada a medianoche es una lectura f��cil y atractiva que tiene buen ritmo y una conclusi��n satisfactoria que deja las suficientes preguntas sin contestar para hacer que vuelvas a por m��s. No estoy segura de si me ir��a a vivir all��, pero desde luego seguir�� leyendo.
Gracias a todos por leer, y si os ha interesado, dadle al me gusta, comentad, compartid y…si os apetece, haced CLIC!
#Book #Review ‘Midnight Crossroad’ by Charlaine Harris. Vampires, witches, psychopaths and a lot of secrets.
Hi all:
As ��you know I read and review books and share the reviews in a variety of places. I recently read the first novel in the new series by Charlaine Harris, a well loved author, and thought I’d bring you my impressions.
Midnight Crossroad by Charlaine Harris
The #1��New York Times��bestselling author who created Sookie Stackhouse and her world of Bon Temps, Louisiana, ���is back with a vengeance��� (Tangled Web)��with this first book in an all-new trilogy���and inviting readers to an even darker place on the map�����
Welcome to Midnight, Texas, a town with many boarded-up windows and few full-time inhabitants, located at the crossing of Witch Light Road and Davy Road. It���s a pretty standard dried-up western town.
There���s a pawnshop (someone lives in the basement and is seen only at night). There���s a diner (people who are just passing through tend not to linger). And there���s new resident Manfred Bernardo, who thinks he���s found the perfect place to work in private (and who has secrets of his own).
INCLUDES AN EXCERPT FROM THE NEXT NOVEL IN THE SERIES,��THE DAY SHIFT
http://www.amazon.com/Midnight-Crossroad-Texas-Charlaine-Harris-ebook/dp/B00I089VSQ/
Here is my��review:
I have read a few novels by Charlaine Harris before. Some from the Sookie Stackhouse collection but also a couple more, and I was intrigued by this novel that announces the beginning of another series.
Midnight is a semi-ghost town where Manfred, a young man who has psychic powers and works as an internet and phone psychic (although most of his advice has nothing to do with his real abilities) arrives at the beginning of his novel. His arrival serves as an introduction for the readers as well and the first chapter is mostly descriptive of the town and its inhabitants. Apart from being a quiet place, it appears that by tacit agreement, people in Midnight follow a policy of ���don���t ask, don���t tell���. Some characters seem to have their secrets closer to the surface than others, but my impression is that as the series develops we���ll learn many mysterious things from most (if not all) the characters.
A murder is discovered (during the first, and probably the last, annual picnic of Midnight) and the investigation and complications that ensue result in an unravelling of many of the secrets that had been so well kept until then.
I found the cast of characters promising (the reverend with his Pet Cemetery, Fiji and her, oh so very special cat, Bobo, Olivia and Lemuel���), the setting interesting enough, and the central story itself intriguing and I did not guess the outcome. The style is deceptively easy, and the omniscient third person narrator that takes on different characters��� point of view in turn, helps us empathise and get to know some of them better (although, of course, not all of them). There are paranormal elements, a vampire and his human girlfriend who make a deadly couple (but good friends of their friends), magic, bizarre pawn shops, white supremacist groups, lies, Halloween parties, wholesome meals, justice of sorts, and a moral/ethical question that will make you think and ponder your position.
Midnight Crossroad ��is an engaging and easy read that has good rhythm and comes to a satisfying conclusion although leaves enough answered questions to keep you coming back. I���m not sure I���d move there, but for sure I���ll keep on reading.
When preparing this post I realised the second book on the series is available on pre-order and due to be published in May, so I leave you some information and the link here too:
Day Shift by Charlaine Harris
Day Shift (Midnight Texas)��
Welcome to Midnight, Texas.
It’s a quiet little town, perched at the junction between Davy Road and Witch Light Road, and it’s easy to miss. With its boarded-up windows, single traffic light and sleepy air, there’s nothing special about Midnight . . . which is exactly how the residents like it.
So when the news comes that a new owner plans to renovate the run-down, abandoned old hotel in town, it’s not met with pleasure. Who would want to come to Midnight, with its handful of shops, the��Home Cookin��diner, and quiet residents – and why?
But there are bigger problems in the air. When Manfred Bernado, the newest resident in town, is swept up in a deadly investigation suddenly the hotel and its residents are the least of the towns concern. The police, lawyers and journalists are all headed to Midnight, and it’s the worst possible moment . . .
http://www.amazon.com/Shift-Midnight-Texas-Charlaine-Harris-ebook/dp/B00QFMNSWE/
Thanks very much for reading, and if you’ve enjoyed it, like, share, comment, and of course, feel free to CLICK!
April 9, 2015
Autora invitada. Violeta Bali��n y sus mundos.
Hola a todos:
Como ya sab��is, los viernes suelo traeros a escritores y obras invitados. Hoy os traigo a una escritora cuyos art��culos y la informaci��n que comparte sigo con inter��s, pero a pesar de que la conozco (a trav��s de varios grupos de autores) hace tiempo, me di cuenta de que a��n no os la hab��a presentado. Y decid�� subsanar ese fallo. As�� que aqu�� os traigo a��Violeta Bali��n.
Violeta Bali��n, autora
Violeta Bali��n. Naci�� en Buenos Aires, Argentina. Es autora de la novela “El Expediente Glasser”, un thriller de ciencia ficci��n cuya segunda edici��n se public�� en 2013 bajo el sello de Eriginal Books (Miami, Florida). Como cuentista colabora regularmente con las revistas internacionales “miNatura” , Peri��dico “Irreverentes” y “Ficciones Argentinas”. Varios de sus art��culos y relatos se han traducido al ingl��s y el franc��s. Con el micro-cuento “��guilas Blancas” integra la antolog��a Lectures d��Argentine, Nouvelles et micror��cits, Auteurs Argentins du XXI Si��cle compilada por la Universidad de Poitiers (Francia). Violeta Bali��n reside en las sierras de C��rdoba, Argentina y Miami, Florida (EE.UU.).
Aqu�� os dejo el enlace a su p��gina en Amazon para que la pod��is seguir.
Y sus libros:
El expediente Glasser
El expediente Glasser de Violeta Bali��n
Un crimen perfecto. Un encuentro marcado por el destino en Buenos Aires, a principios de los a��os 70. La enfermera Clara Glasser, hastiada de su vida deslucida, ��vida de conocimiento y con un matrimonio a punto de desplomarse, acepta y mantiene una singular amistad con un par de enigm��ticos hermanos. Y con ellos descubre mundos desconocidos y fant��sticos como tambi��n el rol que le han asignado dentro de una siniestra conspiraci��n de alcance internacional y exoterrenal.
Una novela que desaf��a nuestra visi��n de la realidad y abarca los g��neros de ciencia ficci��n, fant��stico y thriller.
Sobre El Expediente dice la escritora Pilar Alberdi en su blog http://sobreliteraturafantastica.blogspot.com (M��laga, Espa��a):
“Una obra que no nos dejar�� indiferentes. En la que se mezclan h��bilmente temas como las vivencias de los inmigrantes que llegaron a la Argentina despu��s de las grandes guerras europeas, la situaci��n pol��tica creada a ra��z de las dictaduras, las cuestiones filos��ficas y religiosas a la b��squeda de respuestas universales, lo paranormal (telequinesia, telepat��a…), y todo esto aderezado dentro de los subg��neros de la narrativa como son la Ciencia Ficci��n y el Terror. Ante el “laberinto de los secretos de Dios” que defin��a San Jer��nimo, la ciencia no puede responder a todas las preguntas. Pero este libro incide en ellas. Si existen los alien��genas entre nosotros,��se inclinan del lado del bien o del mal?”
Y una rese��a:
5��estrellas.�� Una historia fant��stica llena de simbolismos
ByMarlene Moleonon August 31, 2012
El Expediente Glasser bordea la intriga de un asesinato en el que est�� involucrado Clara Glasser para adentrarnos en un mundo fant��stico de extraterrestres. Pero la autora no busca la estridencia sensacionalista del tema.
El Expediente Glasser es casi un manual de ufolog��a mediante las conversaciones con dos extra��os hermanos, Alcides y Asima. Estas charlas nos hacen reflexionar sobre la sabidur��a del ser humano. “Haga un esfuerzo por olvidar todo aquello que ha aprendido y recordar todo lo que ha olvidado”.
Clara Glasser, una enfermera que lucha por la supervivencia econ��mica en la Argentina de los a��os 70 y la ahoga la monoton��a de su matrimonio, refleja la soledad existencial de una mujer que ha perdido el sentido de su vida.
“Entramos al gran parque de diversiones de la vida con toda la intenci��n de jugar tiro al blanco, apuntamos, hacemos fuego, erramos y nos quedamos con el premio de consuelo”. Con esta cita puede resumirse la angustia de Clara Glasser.
Enlaces:
http://www.amazon.com/Expediente-Glasser-Spanish-Violeta-Bali%C3%A1n-ebook/dp/B008AQGEUQ/
http://www.amazon.es/Expediente-Glasser-Spanish-Violeta-Bali%C3%A1n-ebook/dp/B008AQGEUQ/
Rumbo a Zoar
Rumbo a Zoar de Violeta Bali��n
Con Rumbo a Zoar y otros relatos, Violeta Bali��n se inscribe en la m��s notable tradici��n literaria latinoamericana: el cuento fant��stico. Junto a la conmovedora humanidad de sus personajes, las historias se desplazan c��modamente por diversos g��neros que hospedan tanto a la f��bula antigua como el realismo m��gico pasando por un desfile fant��stico que incluye el terror, el vampirismo y a��n, notas de ciencia ficci��n.
Y otra rese��a:
5.0 out of 5 stars Los cuentos de Violeta Bali��n son cortos y contundentes, … February 19, 2015
By Blanca Miosi
Los cuentos de Violeta Bali��n son cortos y contundentes, sin artificios innecesarios van directo al grano, por eso me gustan, porque a pesar del gran contenido se pueden absorber en unas pocas p��ginas bien escritas. El hilo conductor es siempre el misterio, dejan flotando en el ambiente el aire enrarecido de las cosas oscuras, secretas… Me han gustado mucho. Lo recomiendo.
Enlaces:
http://www.amazon.com/Rumbo-otros-relatos-Eriginal-Spanish-ebook/dp/B00SCIVGZU/
http://www.amazon.es/Rumbo-otros-relatos-Eriginal-Spanish-ebook/dp/B00SCIVGZU/
Una de las historias de Violeta Bali��n tambi��n aparece en Primeros Exiliados, pero solo pude encontrar versi��n en papel. Aqu�� os dejo el enlace para que le ech��is un vistazo:
http://www.amazon.com/Primeros-Exiliados-Spanish-Ediciones-Mundos/dp/150279991X/
Muchas gracias a Violeta por sus libros, a vosotros por leer, y ya sab��is, dadle al me gusta, comentad, compartid y haced CLIC!
New book and review. Chaos Is Come Again by John Dolan and Fiona Quinn.
Hi all:
As you know on Fridays I bring you new books. This one I’d had on my list to share for a while, but I was determined to read it and include the review in the post too. And finally, its turn has come. Today I share a fascinating book:
Chaos is come again by John Dolan and Fiona Quinn. My digital version has a different cover but…
“Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul But I do love thee! And when I love thee not Chaos is come again.” Sean hears voices in his head. Travis snorts cocaine. Teagan thinks she’s the next Lady Gaga. Avery has the boss from Hell, and a mother with dementia. And Goose wants to catch a serial killer. ‘Chaos Is Come Again’ is a psychological suspense, a mystery and a love story, loaded with irreverent humour and viewed through the lens of obsession. WARNING: Contains references to Judas Iscariot, a dwarf, and a performing monkey.
I think the description will probably give you a fair idea of what’s to come, but here is my take on the matter:
The publishing business, murders and madness
I have read and love the three books (so far) in the series Time, Blood and Karma by John Dolan. I know Fiona Quinn from her fantastic blog (I recommend it to anybody interested in writing thrillers. I had the pleasure of being one of her guests). And I was very intrigued by their collaboration. If any more encouragement were needed, the reviews were great too.
I had read interviews about the process involved in writing the novel and I wondered how it would have worked in reality, as it sounded fairly complicated.
Given all that I had been looking forward with trepidation to reading the novel and it did not disappoint.
The novel is seamless. I could not pick up parts that I fell were more likely to have been written by either author (I might have my theories, but nothing stood out), and once I got into the story that was no longer important.
The novel has two main protagonists: Sean, a young Englishman, a barista diagnosed with schizophrenia and with a violent incident in his past that weights heavy in his mind (although we���re never given any details), and Avery, an American woman, a literary agent burdened with a mother suffering from dementia, and whose difficulties provide at times light entertainment and at others add poignancy to the proceedings.
The two storylines: life in the literary world, a woman���s point of view, friends and chocolate cakes; and London���s gritty life, anxiety and self-doubt, together with a writer with a penchant for scandal (some would say blasphemous), an aspiring poet/singer and girlfriend with no evident redeeming qualities, and a mysterious serial killer, create as many plot threads as any eager reader would wish for (possibly even more).
Social media (Twitter in particular) helps bring the two protagonists together and reels us into a thriller/romance, with a disquietingly open ending.
It���s dynamic, flows well although the rhythm varies according to whose point of view we���re seeing the story from, and with its mixture of characters and likable central duo it���s difficult not to find somebody to root for.
This is a book for readers who like to explore outside established genres and don���t mind open endings. I���m not sure die-hard thriller fans would approve but writers will have a chuckle. I did.
Here is where you can get it:
Paperback:������http://www.amazon.com/Chaos-Come-Again-John-Dolan/dp/0957325665/
Kindle:�� http://www.amazon.com/Chaos-Come-Again-John-Dolan-ebook/dp/B00OSP0AGW/
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Chaos-Come-Again-John-Dolan-ebook/dp/B00OSP0AGW/
Thanks to John and Fiona for their book, thanks to all of you for reading, and you know the drill, if you’ve enjoyed it, like, share, comment, and above all, read and review!
Author Translator Olga
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