Jacqueline Patricks's Blog, page 8
February 14, 2013
Another 5 star review on Amazon!
I'm so excited! I checked this week and got a nice surprise, another 5 star review! The reviews are slower to come in at Amazon even though the sales are steady. But so far I have three 5 star, one 3 star and one 2 star for an average of 4/5 stars at Amazon for Dreams of the Queen.
I'm really happy with that!
http://www.amazon.com/Dreams-Queen-Th...
I'm really happy with that!
http://www.amazon.com/Dreams-Queen-Th...
February 9, 2013
Sneak Peek from 'Nightmares of the Queen'
He unlocked the door to his apartment.
"Captain Charles Lewis, this board of inquiry has decided…"
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, making sure to relock it.
"…that due to the lack of supporting evidence, the massive loss of life to your unit…"
He ignored the wilted leaves of his philodendron—their edges brown and curling—as he aimed for his kitchen. Specifically the refrigerator.
"…and the loss of the entire team of scientists who were highly regarded in their fields…"
The fridge’s handle was cold and hard against his palm as he stood staring into its bright belly. He’d only have one. He just needed one to take the edge off. Fingers of his right hand tightened on the handle while his left reached forward, shaking.
"…that you will be reassigned to administrative duty and subject to regular evaluations, psychiatric and professional,..."
The icy glass bottle in his hand instantly soothed him, calming his tremors and he hadn’t even opened it.
"…until such time that you have proven that you are capable of assuming another field command."
A pop and a snick and the metal cap flipped off to clatter on the countertop, spinning and twisting. Lewis had swallowed almost half of the beer before the cap could roll to the tile floor. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy the river of cold foam rushing down his throat. He hadn’t enjoyed anything since they’d returned a month ago. Another gulp and swallow while he stared at the wall behind his stove. He’d always hated that beige tile. Boring. Lifeless.
“Fuck!” Lewis threw the mostly empty bottle at the offending ceramic. Brown glass and golden froth exploded, littering the stove, but the tile survived. Stumbling backwards, Lewis’ back hit the far wall of his narrow hall-like kitchen, and he slid to his butt, legs bent in front of him. Being hardly worn, the soles of his dress shoes slipped and his feet splayed out until his legs smacked the floor.
Pressed against the wall, the corded edge of his beret dug painfully into the back of his head. He’d forgotten to remove his cover indoors—just like he’d forgotten at the inquiry.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am unfit for another field command. Lewis balled his hands into fists trying to force the tension from his body. Bitter ale clung to his tongue, distracting him and inciting a craving for more. Eyelids drifting shut, he inhaled deeply and thought about happy places.
Sir?
“No!” Lewis snapped his lids open. Lifeless beige stared back. “You’re not real,” he whispered. He covered his face with both hands. “You’re dead.”
Sir? What happened?
“You’re all dead,” he said, his hands muffling his gruff voice.
This is your fault. Why didn’t you save us?
A short sob escaped Lewis and he bowed his head, face still masked. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he said again, softer as his upper body slid sideways, hitting the wood cabinetry with dull thud. Shoulders trembling, Lewis tried to restrain himself as his emotions swirled and buckled.
You owe me, sir.
Lewis stilled, then removed his hands from his face. “Brown?”
I looked out for you when you needed me. You owe me.
“I. I tried, Sam.”
You weren’t good enough.
Nodding, Lewis pulled his legs to his chest. “I know. I’m sorry. If I could’ve stayed…”
Sudden music broke the spell, and Lewis’ head jerked, smacking the wall so hard his vision whited for a second. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head, already feeling the tendrils of a fresh migraine spreading. The music shrilled again, and he realized it was coming from the inside breast pocket of his class A uniform.
With a frustrated sigh, Lewis readjusted his position so he could reach his cellphone. When had he taken it off vibrate? Everything after the inquiry this morning was a blur. Reading the display, he considered allowing it to go to voicemail, but it was an old Special Forces buddy. He’d quit the field years ago for a Pentagon desk job, had said it was the best decision he’d ever made. Somehow, Lewis doubted it.
Nightmares of the Queen
"Captain Charles Lewis, this board of inquiry has decided…"
He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, making sure to relock it.
"…that due to the lack of supporting evidence, the massive loss of life to your unit…"
He ignored the wilted leaves of his philodendron—their edges brown and curling—as he aimed for his kitchen. Specifically the refrigerator.
"…and the loss of the entire team of scientists who were highly regarded in their fields…"
The fridge’s handle was cold and hard against his palm as he stood staring into its bright belly. He’d only have one. He just needed one to take the edge off. Fingers of his right hand tightened on the handle while his left reached forward, shaking.
"…that you will be reassigned to administrative duty and subject to regular evaluations, psychiatric and professional,..."
The icy glass bottle in his hand instantly soothed him, calming his tremors and he hadn’t even opened it.
"…until such time that you have proven that you are capable of assuming another field command."
A pop and a snick and the metal cap flipped off to clatter on the countertop, spinning and twisting. Lewis had swallowed almost half of the beer before the cap could roll to the tile floor. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy the river of cold foam rushing down his throat. He hadn’t enjoyed anything since they’d returned a month ago. Another gulp and swallow while he stared at the wall behind his stove. He’d always hated that beige tile. Boring. Lifeless.
“Fuck!” Lewis threw the mostly empty bottle at the offending ceramic. Brown glass and golden froth exploded, littering the stove, but the tile survived. Stumbling backwards, Lewis’ back hit the far wall of his narrow hall-like kitchen, and he slid to his butt, legs bent in front of him. Being hardly worn, the soles of his dress shoes slipped and his feet splayed out until his legs smacked the floor.
Pressed against the wall, the corded edge of his beret dug painfully into the back of his head. He’d forgotten to remove his cover indoors—just like he’d forgotten at the inquiry.
Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am unfit for another field command. Lewis balled his hands into fists trying to force the tension from his body. Bitter ale clung to his tongue, distracting him and inciting a craving for more. Eyelids drifting shut, he inhaled deeply and thought about happy places.
Sir?
“No!” Lewis snapped his lids open. Lifeless beige stared back. “You’re not real,” he whispered. He covered his face with both hands. “You’re dead.”
Sir? What happened?
“You’re all dead,” he said, his hands muffling his gruff voice.
This is your fault. Why didn’t you save us?
A short sob escaped Lewis and he bowed his head, face still masked. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” he said again, softer as his upper body slid sideways, hitting the wood cabinetry with dull thud. Shoulders trembling, Lewis tried to restrain himself as his emotions swirled and buckled.
You owe me, sir.
Lewis stilled, then removed his hands from his face. “Brown?”
I looked out for you when you needed me. You owe me.
“I. I tried, Sam.”
You weren’t good enough.
Nodding, Lewis pulled his legs to his chest. “I know. I’m sorry. If I could’ve stayed…”
Sudden music broke the spell, and Lewis’ head jerked, smacking the wall so hard his vision whited for a second. He groaned and rubbed the back of his head, already feeling the tendrils of a fresh migraine spreading. The music shrilled again, and he realized it was coming from the inside breast pocket of his class A uniform.
With a frustrated sigh, Lewis readjusted his position so he could reach his cellphone. When had he taken it off vibrate? Everything after the inquiry this morning was a blur. Reading the display, he considered allowing it to go to voicemail, but it was an old Special Forces buddy. He’d quit the field years ago for a Pentagon desk job, had said it was the best decision he’d ever made. Somehow, Lewis doubted it.
Nightmares of the Queen
February 4, 2013
What have I been up to?
I'm working on a prequel to my short story 'His Last Gift' - a novella about how Daniel and Katherine started their affair.
My new, professional cover for 'Dreams of the Queen' should be ready in a week or two, so get ready for a new cover reveal!
'Queen's' sequel 'Nightmares of the Queen' is coming along nicely. I'm a few chapters in so far as the story fleshes itself out.
I'm also considering a prequel, short story for Captain Lewis.
Fairytale Apocalypse is humming along very well. The back story is falling into place and Kagan's world is really building up well. The Verge is an amazing place in my mind. I'm happy to get to spend more time there. I've decided to add more political details to the Verge and its fae Inlands, which will become more important later on.
Lots of writing craziness, makes me wish I had more time and less sleep deprivation headaches.
My new, professional cover for 'Dreams of the Queen' should be ready in a week or two, so get ready for a new cover reveal!
'Queen's' sequel 'Nightmares of the Queen' is coming along nicely. I'm a few chapters in so far as the story fleshes itself out.
I'm also considering a prequel, short story for Captain Lewis.
Fairytale Apocalypse is humming along very well. The back story is falling into place and Kagan's world is really building up well. The Verge is an amazing place in my mind. I'm happy to get to spend more time there. I've decided to add more political details to the Verge and its fae Inlands, which will become more important later on.
Lots of writing craziness, makes me wish I had more time and less sleep deprivation headaches.
January 19, 2013
Jeffery Archer Short Story Contest
Just wanted to update anyone interested in this contest hosted by Kobo.
http://kobowritinglife.com/2013/01/16...
"One lucky winner will be awarded the grand prize of free enrolment in an upcoming Curtis Brown online novel writing course. Authors should submit a 100-word short. The short can consist of any genre of fiction, as long as it stays within the 100-word limit."
Deadline is Feb 15!
*edited* You know--I copied and pasted the quoted portion from their website and later realized that they spelled enrollment as 'enrolment'. Remember that Kobo is a Canadian company, so they're choosing the different spelling.
http://kobowritinglife.com/2013/01/16...
"One lucky winner will be awarded the grand prize of free enrolment in an upcoming Curtis Brown online novel writing course. Authors should submit a 100-word short. The short can consist of any genre of fiction, as long as it stays within the 100-word limit."
Deadline is Feb 15!
*edited* You know--I copied and pasted the quoted portion from their website and later realized that they spelled enrollment as 'enrolment'. Remember that Kobo is a Canadian company, so they're choosing the different spelling.
January 8, 2013
Happy Birthday, David Bowie! New Music!
The big 66!
Which is, freakishly enough, the same age as my dad. But we're not going there.
Watch his new music video! Woohoo!
http://www.davidbowie.com/the-next-day
Which is, freakishly enough, the same age as my dad. But we're not going there.
Watch his new music video! Woohoo!
http://www.davidbowie.com/the-next-day
January 3, 2013
The New Year...
So what has the new year brought for you so far? Only three days in and I feel a renewed sense of purpose. In addition to writing, I own a handmade jewelery business and last year has been terrible for retail. I've been working on my accounting this week and things were worse than I'd realized. It was a real surprise given that '10 and '11 were very strong. But as I start 2013, I feel confident that America wants to fight the depression that drags at us. We want to find new ways to do business, self-publishing being one of those ways.
It's a brave new world and for those of us willing to keep pushing, who knows what will happen. But the main thing is we can never give up, never give in to the temptation to walk away. Sure it'll be hard, but then anything worthwhile always is.
Here's to a great 2013!
It's a brave new world and for those of us willing to keep pushing, who knows what will happen. But the main thing is we can never give up, never give in to the temptation to walk away. Sure it'll be hard, but then anything worthwhile always is.
Here's to a great 2013!
December 31, 2012
Signs of the Classic Want-To-Be-Writer
Thanks to http://www.deanwesleysmith.com/?p=8367 for these words of wisdom!
Every long-term professional fiction writer can spot a hopeless want-to-be fiction writer easily.
— They are the fiction writers who talk about writing, but never finish anything.
— They are the fiction writers who feel jealous of all your writing time because they can never find the time.
— They are the fiction writers who come up with one idea and spend years on it, talking about it, researching it, workshopping parts of it, but never finishing it and moving on.
— They are the fiction writers who believe they will never succeed because they don’t have a major fan base like a major writer, so why bother. Or worse, they finish one thing and spend all year “promoting it.”
— They are the fiction writers who decide they are going to write in the new year, but set no plans, no goals, no structure.
— They are the writers who just get to their fiction writing when they can, when the muse strikes, because ideas are hard and writing is hard. They “just can’t find the time.” And then the following year they try the same thing that didn’t work every year before.
Don't be that ^ writer. :o)
Every long-term professional fiction writer can spot a hopeless want-to-be fiction writer easily.
— They are the fiction writers who talk about writing, but never finish anything.
— They are the fiction writers who feel jealous of all your writing time because they can never find the time.
— They are the fiction writers who come up with one idea and spend years on it, talking about it, researching it, workshopping parts of it, but never finishing it and moving on.
— They are the fiction writers who believe they will never succeed because they don’t have a major fan base like a major writer, so why bother. Or worse, they finish one thing and spend all year “promoting it.”
— They are the fiction writers who decide they are going to write in the new year, but set no plans, no goals, no structure.
— They are the writers who just get to their fiction writing when they can, when the muse strikes, because ideas are hard and writing is hard. They “just can’t find the time.” And then the following year they try the same thing that didn’t work every year before.
Don't be that ^ writer. :o)
December 28, 2012
Merry Christmas!
I know it's been a tough year financially. Many people are out of work and can't even buy a nice, new book to read to escape for a little while. So I'm offering my small library for download, FREE, for a short time.
These titles are available at Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/vi...
- my full novel- sci-fi/action/adventure with lots of alien/human m/f romance and plot twists!
(Rated Mature)
short story- A sweet romance about second chances with a touch of the paranormal. Is there life after death?
a short story - Bittersweet forbidden romance- #1 in my series (#2 out soon!)
short story available in Kindle Select to borrow (if you're a prime member I believe) - 1st person paramedic horror fiction - 2000 words but not for the faint of heart or squeamish.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006IL1Z4K
Happy Reading and Merry Christmas!
These titles are available at Smashwords
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/vi...
- my full novel- sci-fi/action/adventure with lots of alien/human m/f romance and plot twists!(Rated Mature)
short story- A sweet romance about second chances with a touch of the paranormal. Is there life after death?
a short story - Bittersweet forbidden romance- #1 in my series (#2 out soon!)
short story available in Kindle Select to borrow (if you're a prime member I believe) - 1st person paramedic horror fiction - 2000 words but not for the faint of heart or squeamish. http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006IL1Z4K
Happy Reading and Merry Christmas!
