Tonya R. Moore's Blog: Tonya R. Moore, page 25
September 16, 2017
Beast
He’s a cliché the all too solemn, emotionally vampiric type. Burdened by the nose ring, the deviant sex habit and the penchant for poisoning his patients, he’s a regular old Doctor I-Know-Every-Thing.
He’s the kinda guy who smirks at you across the parking lot in broad daylight and makes your skin crawl. You’d scurry away and you keep your head down because neither that thin veneer of civility nor the toothily salacious smile can quite manage to fool you.
The man is an animal. He’s a mean, misogynistic machine made of blood and sinew and you know it. You know it with a certainty that makes your teeth hurt.
The truth is that curious pounding in the cavity where your heart was has nothing to do with fear. The man is an animal but you’re just another predator. It’s the same as wolves catching scent of each other in the wilderness. A devil knows another devil from miles and miles away.
You carry that secret. You cradle it deep in the darkness of your being.
You know what the mad light that blinds you in the mirror from the depths of those hollowed out holes you have for eyes must mean. You only vaguely remember what sleep was. Forget sanity. Forget common ground.
The world is a barren wilderness and you’re as hungry as that other hunter who walks upright among the preening and always-begging-for-attention-or-something sheep.
Waking up from sleepwalking you find yourself there, in that dark place where the wind whips through the trees with an obscene sort of willfulness. It’s where you first learned to let go of that rigid control.
Do you remember that time so long ago, before you could walk on only two feet? Before you learned to kill with anything but teeth?
You pretend you’re human. You wear that bloody coat of frailty with a secretive sort of maniacal glee.
All the while, you’re frantically searching and dredging up the thing that’s gone into hiding in your marrow where no blade, bullet, regret or religion can find it.
You remember with a perverse sort of longing, what it was like to be a beautiful, terrible beast that killed with abandon and crawled along the bottom of the ocean on prehensile digits for feet.
You haven’t forgotten what it was like to be a worm down there in the murky wetness, a primordial oracle trumpeting possibilities in a twisted, young planet’s tongue.
FEATURED IMG CREDIT: Sabine Mondestin
Summer Writing Project 2017 Results
The Summer Writing Project 2017 was a two-month-long web serial novella challenge presented by Jukepop Serials and 1888. The submission period was July 1st through August 31st. Writers posted installments of their novellas one chapter at a time and readers could critique and vote on each chapter.
At the beginning of September, the editing staff at 1888 reviewed the top 25 novellas based on reader retention and reading time. The results were announced on September 12th.
The Winner
Kathy Joy’s “Last One to the Bridge” was selected as the winning novella and will be published with cover artwork by artist, David Moscati.
Last One to the Bridge
[image error]Last One to the Bridge follows Reva after she awakens in transit to a colony on Proxima B to find the crew have been slaughtered. As part of the terraforming team, Reva knows nothing about space travel – she doesn’t even know how to open the doors.
The chances of survival are slim. Whatever killed the crew is hunting her down. Her only hope is Adam – a fellow survivor trapped on the bridge. With only his voice to guide her, she must somehow make it to safety on the bridge.
The Shortlist
The Summer Writing Project 2017 shortlist included the following novellas:
In Future Use Spellcheck by Taye Carrol
[image error]Bran’s uncle is the Grand Archemage, the most powerful of the ten great Archemages, the ruling council of all white magicians. When Bran decides to borrow his great Uncle’s identity upon seeing an invitation which forms on the mirror to help someone retrieve his lost magic he has no idea what’s in store for him. Transported to a sorcerer’s lair he and his best friend Isi, a powerful witch in her own right, must find a way to defeat the prince of demons who stole the sorcerer’s magic or die trying.
Murder by Proxy by Brandon Czubinski
[image error]When Sale, a lowly Lineman in the sprawling megalopolis of Wereldstad, comes across a woman’s plea for help while fixing datastreams, he is drawn to action in a world that punishes those who go against protocol. Sale finds himself falling deeper into a conspiracy that will force him into the highest offices and darkest corners of Wereldstad, all to find the truth that could change the course of the last known outpost of humanity.
PLE by Marie Enger
[image error]I can hear my neighbor’s heartbeat downstairs. I can smell his blood. I can see through my skin straight down to the bones. I can feel a new row of teeth growing behind my old ones. I can’t go out into the sunlight without burning.
I didn’t used to be this way – I think it’s my new medication.
Death by Chance by M. N. Gibbs [image error]
What would you do if approached by a complete stranger who seems to be telling you that he has carried out a murder? Why would he tell you? Why you?
What the Bones Say by Tonya Moore (Yours Truly!)
[image error]Niara’s people inhabit a village within a walled enclosure on an alien planet. To carve out a future for humanity, she must disobey their alien benefactors and venture beyond the wall. She joins forces with Wendi, tribal queen of the eastern village. The two women forge a bond stronger than blood as they uncover the secrets of their buried history and incite the wrath of an advanced alien force.
Conclusion
Congratulations to Kathy Joy, kudos to the other short-listed authors, and well done to all of the amazing authors who participated in this years challenge!
September 15, 2017
Made in DNA: Screaming Metal
[image error]
Name: Brent Millis
Pseudonym: Made in DNA
Bio: American living in Japan.
Screaming Metal
An action-adventure set in the far-future, “Screaming Metal” is the story of a team of three junk-mercs caught in a web of deception while on the hunt for an elusive alien AI braincore thought to be buried in a centuries-old junkyard. The junk-mercs quickly learn that not only are they not the only ones seeking the prized braincore, but that the braincore may also be functioning! The very thought of it creates a rift in their otherwise harmonious teamwork as a never before in the history of humanity’s discovery of the AIs has a functioning one been found.
[image error]
Part of a larger series of standalone short works that I would like to do under the series title METAL FICTION
#of Chapters Available: 18
Status: ongoing
Read “Screaming Metal” Online
Find Brent Online:
Twitter: @MillisBrent
Facebook Group
September 10, 2017
Mermaid
Say the only dream you ever had was blue, a cool brilliance that engulfs everything in the universe.
All you know of your place in the monochromatic Everything is webbed feet, jewel fingers and a certain unnamable longing. You reach upward and out, straining to grasp the hazy glow of a distant light in your palms.
You begin to swim faster and farther from the deep and dark. It’s warm near the surface but you don’t know what warmth is. There had never been anyone to teach you that word. It’s a different kind of feeling. It tickles your skin.
It makes your blood blaze and your heart leap.
You soar, soar, and soar toward the brilliance above and beyond until one night; the ghostly light looms directly overhead. You’re amazed because before, you had only your heart to see with but now you have eyes, ears and everything everywhere is amplified.
Suddenly, you’re no longer floating in that vast and lonely silence. The world you know has been set on its ear. It tilts over like a clumsy crab, unsettling you. You breathe in the air but you don’t know what air is. It whips around you and it roars.
It makes your bones sing, sing, sing.
The light you were chasing is still way up above and out of reach. The darkness overhead is blanketed by jittery dots of light.
You remember, with stark clarity that you’ve seen it all before; that you once stood on two feet on this shore and lamented over the alien yet strangely familiar jewels that you could neither grasp with your own two hands, nor wish upon fast enough when they fell from the heavens like tears.
You remember being human, what the poet said about death and the narwhal’s horn. You look to the stars. You look to the sea.
You remember why you once cast the earth and the heavens away.
Is this the first time it occurs to you, that the glitter-spotted darkness you’d left behind in the wet was the same as the seething mass in that place where you cannot fly?
Your body bends. You sink back down into the sea. Burying your heart and your longing once again, you dive all the way back down into the dark, into the deep.
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September 9, 2017
Excerpt: Ephemera
Boots jerked awake to a smattering of guffaws and low chuckles from the other gravediggers riding in the wagon.
Wiping drool from the corner of her mouth, the dark pixie-like young woman straightened and croaked, “Mornin’, Boss!”
She undid her harness and pulled a faded red scarf from the pocket of her cargo pants. With swift motions, she used the scarf to tie back her thick, red and blue braids. She scrambled down the aisle until she was crouching behind the pilot’s seat.
“We there yet?” She asked.
“Nearly,” Bowman grunted. He was the outfit’s boss, a sturdy and barely civilized sort with freckles and a bushy beard. Half a cigar hung, unlit, from the corner of his mouth.
Boots looked up to Bowman. He was rough but shrewd, and a gruff kindness lurked beneath the man’s mean exterior. Boots had caught up with Bowman’s diggers in the capital. Desperate to escape the tedium of Logistics Division, she’d begged to join his crew. Bowman initially refused but after much haranguing, he’d relented and let her join up, on a trial basis.
Daylight broke, snapping Boots out of her reverie. As the horizon split wide open, Berne’s twin moons, Jaguar and Snow loomed over the town as if beckoning the wagon-weary diggers into their watchful embrace. The wagon, a caterpillar shaped contraption trundled into the heart of the derelict town.
A trio of ‘dactyls circled above the wagon. Boots was unnerved by their deep throated bellows. Large enough to snatch a grown man off the ground, the big vultures were generally harmless. Still, it was as if they knew something the grave diggers didn’t, the way they circled over the wagon as if waiting for something to die. Boots found it unnerving and wished they would go circle over something else, somewhere else entirely.
Bowman shut the engine down and descended from the wagon. All of the other diggers grabbed their gear and followed suit. Boots hurried back to her seat and snatched her pack from the overhead compartment. By the time she got outside,
Bowman had already begun briefing the group.
“We need to find the hospital first. That’s where most of the bodies will be.” He set a small cube down on the ground. A holographic three-dimensional map appeared. “This town should follow the standard template.” His finger jabbed at three different spots on the map. These will be our designated burial grounds. Here, here and here.”
Sol, a stout Rasta man, stepped forward. He hooked his thumbs into his waistband, drew in a deep breath, and picked up where Bowman had left off.
“All right. Team One, take Sector One. Team Two and Three, cover the hospital. Rookies,” his head inclined toward Boots and a gangly youth named Terry. “You two stick with the Boss-man and take Sector Four.”
There was a pause.
“What’re y’all waitin’ fer? An invitation?” Bowman demanded.
Everyone, save for Boots and Terry took that as their cue to skedaddle.
“Come on you two,” the Boss-man instructed. “I’ll walk you through deployin’ the mini drones. We need to get the safety net setup before we get to diggin’.
Bowman went back to the wagon and came back with a handful of small spherical objects. “These,” he said, “are automatically set to work in tandem with each other. They send out a signal that’ll keep the bigger critters away. Switch ’em on. Let ‘em fly. Simple enough, right?”
Once the mini drones were deployed, Boots and Terry followed Bowman northward in silence. They passed a saloon, vines growing wild over the walls and the latticed double doors. Boots wondered if there were any bodies inside. They rounded the corner at the blacksmith’s shop. A huge, rusted wagon wheel with a bent spoke had been left leaning against the ramshackle shack. Boots couldn’t tell which was holding up which.
“Y’all ready for this?” Bowman challenged.
Boots and Terry nodded vigorously.
“Inoculations up to date?” He asked.
“Yup,” said Boots.
“Yeah, Boss,” said Terry.
“Good.” The boss-man nodded. “Boots, you take the houses up ahead. Terry, take the ones on the right. I got the ones on the left.”
“Gotcha, Boss.” Boots slung her pack over her shoulder, grip tightening on her shovel. “Watch out for critters, ‘specially those Berne wolverines.” Bowman cautioned as the trio parted. “Just ’cause we’re inside the safety net, don’t mean there ain’t nothin’ that’ll try to get ya.” …
Continue Reading @ Patreon (Patrons Only)
FEATURED IMG CREDIT: Olga Rudneva
August 16, 2017
Kathy Joy: Last One to the Bridge
[image error]I have very eclectic taste. My favourite shows range from Steven Universe and Game of Thrones; I enjoy R&B, classical, and electronica to name a few. I will read almost any book genre.
This mixed taste seeps into my writing, allowing me to work in a multitude of genres, although my favourites both to read and to write are sci-fi and urban fantasy.
I live in Norfolk in the UK with my husband, young daughter and cavalier King Charles spaniel. I’m also vice-chair of the Norwich Writer’s Circle – the second oldest writing group in the UK.
Last One to the Bridge
[image error]Last One to the Bridge follows Reva after she awakens in transit to a colony on Proxima b to find the crew have been slaughtered. As part of the terraforming team, Reva knows nothing about space travel – she doesn’t even know how to open the doors.
The chances of survival are slim. Whatever killed the crew is hunting her down. Her only hope is Adam – a fellow survivor trapped on the bridge. With only his voice to guide her, she must somehow make it to safety on the bridge.
# of Chapters Available: 10
Status: Ongoing. Set to have about 18 chapters.
Read & Vote for Last One to the Bridge @ Jukepop Serials!
Other Web Serials by Kathy Joy
Find Kathy Online
Website/Blog
Twitter: @Kathy_H_Joy
Facebook
August 5, 2017
What the Bones Say: Episode 2
Niara has a vision.
What the Bones Say is the title of my web-serialized novella for this year’s Summer Writing Project. The 2017 Summer Writing Project is a collaborative effort by Jukepop and 1888.
Vote for chapters of this story @ Jukepop!
You can also Support this Project via GoFundMe
AVAILABLE WRITTEN CHAPTERS as of 7/15/2017
0: Trance | 1: Boabab | 2: Prey
August 2, 2017
Love’s Lost Theory
This is love’s lost theory…
Well, I’ve been in love
so many times;
I’ve had that urge
so many times
and when I’m alone
and the star struck sky is blue
so blue,
all I can think of
is you;
I wished…
I wished
so many times
that you could see me,
that you could feel me
drowning in the current
of my own
yearning heart;
You don’t exist
or you don’t
believe
and I know better
than to hope
anymore;
But still…
Sometimes,
when I’m all alone
And the star struck sky
is blue,
all I can think of
is you.
Ryan Watt: Flocked
[image error]Ryan Watt is a writer and photographer whose fiction I first ran across when I joined Jukepop.com.
He writes Flocked, which is one of my favorite online stories and one of the most enjoyable fairy tales that I’ve read to date.
Twitter: @GuildofFeathers
Flocked
[image error]In a world where all fairy tales come from has its share of unique problems. Cursed children, lost magical relics, monster kidnapped royal heirs – these kinds of problems need special kind of experts. Flocked follows the Guild of the Feathers, a team of experts on fairy tale problems.
What makes them so adept is each member is the survivor of a fairy tale curse story, that left them with lingering issues. The series takes the guild from job to job, weaving retold fairy tales into a larger world, with larger issues, such as how do you move on from your tragic past and help prevent others from the same fate.
# of Chapters Available: 180
Status: Ongoing
Read & Vote for Flocked @ Jukepop Serials!
OTHER WEB SERIAL WORKS
The Soldier and… (Spin-Off from Flocked, following a wandering Champion through the many turns of his life).
Heroes of the Fabled Age (short story anthology)
Tonya R. Moore
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