Helen B. Henderson's Blog, page 65

Hooked on Hatchling's Mate, Challenge Answered, #MFRWhooks

Summer a time of fun and gatherings. Since the season is winding down, a snippit from Hatchling's Mate of what one of the characters considers fun-standing up to a bully. To fully understand the scene, first a spoiler. Glyn is actually a female, but is disguised as a male because of her role as  bodyguard. Neither Talann nor Kynan know Glyn's true gender at this point in the story. Last week a bully issued a challenge. As a result of popular demand, here's the reaction. Or should I say, takedown.

Excerpt:

Standing, Glyn raked the bully from head to foot. Her lips twitched in a grin. “Since you don’t appreciate fine horseflesh, what do you ride? A dog?”

Tension deepened in the inn and all conversation dropped to a low hum. Their attention focused on the slender Glyn and the bully that towered over the table. The larger man reached down, picked up Kynan’s mug and drained it in a single swig. Slamming the mug back on the table, the bully straightened to his full height.

Glyn held her breath against the rancid odor coming off the man. His attitude proclaimed his intention to fight. With a sigh Glyn shifted into battle stance. She didn’t need to look to know that even though they remained seated, Talann and Kynan were ready to join the fray.

“Only a girl rides a mare,” the bully goaded. “You never answered me. Do you like boys?”

Every eye turned on Glyn to see the response. No man with any honor would stand for such an insult. She shook her head at the inevitable confrontation. She could not answer truthfully and maintain the disguise of her true identity. Option after option was considered, until one approach stood above the others. “And you good sire,” she said with a half bow to hide the sparkle in her eyes, “never answered mine. Do you ride a dog?”

A low growl preceded the bully’s roundhouse swing.

Instincts trained by the best weaponsmasters the Ceoltier Guild could provide, instincts honed with hours of practice against Kynan and Talann, pulled Glyn into a low crouch. She exploded upward, sinking her doubled fists into her attacker’s stomach. With a loud whoosh of air, the large man bent over. Glyn added to the momentum, forcing his head into the table. A grunt and what had been a threat now slid in a boneless lump to the floor.

“Thank you and your friends for not breaking up my place,” the innkeep said. “I was coming to help, but three steps and it was over. Obviously the help wasn’t needed.” He nodded at Glyn. “As nice a dispatch as I’ve seen in many a day.” His wave brought over two men who grabbed the bully’s arms and dragged the unconscious man towards the door. “I’ve been waiting for that one to start trouble for the past sevenday. He always scared everyone enough they didn’t challenge him.” Taking fresh mugs of ale from the pale-faced server, the innkeep set them down on the table. “On the house, enjoy.” His glare rounded the room and moments later, the buzz of conversation resumed.

Glyn watched the door swing shut behind the bully.

~  ~ ~
Hatchling's Mate - From their birth it was expected that Talann’s and Lexii’s destiny would be entwined. However fate had other intentions. Lexii and Talann could not stand to be together.

Click here for another excerpt and a free read of the first chapter.

Ebook Available at:   Amazon   Kobo  Walmart.
One click to more ebook stores

BIG NEWS: Order Paperback Now. In a few weeks they will be gone. When they will be winging back no one knows at this time. Available at:  Amazon  Barnes&Noble  IndieBound

Irrational? Says Who. #mfrwauthor

It's Friday. Time for another dip into the challenge. Each week we are challenged to write a thoughtful, informative post about writing craft, the writing life, or sometimes, something even more personal. This is one of those very personal topics. -- Irrational Fears




Irrational implies not governed by reason, mental clarity, or understanding. Which would mean this week could be something a reasonable person would be afraid of. But who is to say what is irrational for one person would not seem totally reasonable to another. If four family members had a stroke, worrying about one being in your future would be reasonable. Whereas if your genetics leaned toward hitting the century mark with a sharp mind and fairly healthy body, maybe not so.

Whether they're rational or not, here's a few things that have crossed my mind as things to be afraid of.

Drowning (I don't really like water)
Rats (eyes that glow at you in the dark aren't always friendly)
Plane Crash (when you're in the cockpit, that ground can come up very quickly)
Ill health (self-explanatory)
 
Or I could answer as one of my characters.
Losing a crewman (Elspeth, Captain of Sea Falcon)
Failing my duty (Glyn )
Never doing what I want (Anastasia)
Never finding my mate (Lord Branin of Cloud Eyrie)
Never getting revenge (Dylan)
Being the last of my kind (Trellier)
And the ultimate fear. Since the dragons didn't sing at my birth, never knowing the freedom of flight. (Master Talann of Cloud Eyrie).

This is a hop, so a visit to the other posts would be appreciated. ~till next time, Helen



A Last Minute Update: the list isn't working, so I've encoded the participants links below. Apologies to anyone that was missed. And if the linked list appears, just ignore these duplicates.

Molly Daniels  /  Peggy Jaeger  /  Holly Bargo  /  Maureen Bonatch   / 

Farewell to Print

To my readers who love holding paper copies. By now you may have heard that Amazon is closing down their original print system within the next few weeks. Which means that all print editions of the Dragshi Chronicle series, Imprisoned in Stone, Hearth and Sand, and From the Back Street to Main Street will no longer be available until such time as a non-Amazon print option is available, or the new Amazon print book can be re-verified and sufficient test copies purchased to assure that you the reader continue to get a quality product. It is unknown if this closure will affect the history books, Around Matawan and Aberdeen and Of Town and Field.

WHEN AND IF PRINT COPIES WILL AGAIN BE AVAILABLE IS UNKNOWN AT THIS TIME. I apologize for the inconvenience. There are still a few days left to order copies. To make it easier, print links follow.

~ Again my apologies. Helen


Hearth and Sand 
Amazon





Imprisoned in Stone 
Amazon  Barnes&Noble







Hatchling's Vengeance  
Amazon  Barnes&Noble 






Hatchling's Mate 
 Amazon  Barnes&Noble





Hatchlings Curse  
Amazon  Barnes&Noble





Dragon Destiny 
Amazon  Barnes&Noble

Hooked on Hatchling's Mate, A Bully and Fun? #MFRWhooks

Summer a time of fun and gatherings. Since the season is winding down, a snippit from Hatchling's Mate of what one of the characters considers fun-standing up to a bully. To fully understand the scene, first a spoiler. Glyn is actually a female, but is disguised as a male because of her role as  bodyguard. Neither Talann nor Kynan know Glyn's true gender at this point in the story.

Excerpt:

Light conversation alternated with scans of the room. Glyn tracked the serving girl’s progress across the room.

“Sorry for the delay,” the girl said, arriving at the table. “I think all of Selbair is here tonight.” With a quick curtsey that sent an errant curl into her face, she set the tray on the table.

Glyn handed two copper coins. “One for the ales, the other for you.”

Dimples showed in the young girls cheeks. “Thank you, kind sir. If you need anything, just whistle.” Winking, she turned to answer another customer’s call.

Kynan elbowed Glyn and pointed toward the swinging backside of the departing server. “She looks like she would warm a man’s bed at night.” Taking Glyn’s lack of response as hesitation, Kynan added. “She’s interested.”

<Doesn’t Glyn like girls?>

Shock rocked Glyn. While Talann’s thoughts always came in clear when he sent them, the question was obviously not intended to be heard. Surprise added thickness to her tone. “If you like her so much, Kynan, why don’t you bed her?” Glyn said in a low growl.

“Because the wench didn’t wink at me,” Kynan laughed. “But we are not here for trouble, but to toast a friend.” Smiling, he raised his mug and clinked it against Talann’s.

“That woman is mine,” a deep voice said from behind Kynan’s shoulder.

Glyn looked up into the angry visage of the man she had marked earlier as a bully. “By law and custom, a woman is free to make her own choice.” Although she knew it would start a fight, she could not resist adding, “Though why one would choose you eludes me?”

Redness colored the skin beneath the man’s beard. “You must like boys. After all you ride a mare. No self-respecting man would ride a woman’s horse.”

The reality of the Buar’s heritage broadened Glyn’s smile. Despite her gender, the mare’s fine lines and implied strength brought out a primitive reaction in most men. Most could not resist stroking the soft neck, even if they didn’t know Buar was a seidheirn.

“A good horse is a good horse, no matter whether mare or stallion,” Glyn said. A shrug and she added, “I’ll stand Buar against a stallion who’s muscled, but has no brain.”

“Mares, like girls, are good for one thing,” the bully said. His grin left little to the imagination nor did his hand gesture implying the act of a stallion mounting a mare.

Across the table, Kynan dropped a hand to the dagger in his boot. Talann gathered his feet beneath him. <This could be fun.>

~  ~ ~
Hatchling's Mate - From their birth it was expected that Talann’s and Lexii’s destiny would be entwined. However fate had other intentions. Lexii and Talann could not stand to be together.

Click here for another excerpt and a free read of the first chapter.

Ebook Available at:   Amazon   Kobo  Walmart.
One click to more ebook stores

BIG NEWS: Order Paperback Now. In a few weeks they will be gone. When they will be winging back no one knows at this time. Available at:  Amazon  Barnes&Noble  IndieBound

My Theme or Two #mfrwauthor

Music. It can send a soul soaring above the clouds or set a battle steed to prance to a different tune. My first thought was to write about the music behind the writing. But that topic was done in Musing on Music. Feel free to check it out later if you feel so inclined. 

However, since this challenge was not just about our writing lives but our personal ones too, I decided to go with two songs that for the past few years have been what could be referred to as my theme song.

As to why these songs resonate? I'll give the lyrics then explain if you haven't figured it out.

(Songwriters: Scott Emerick / Toby Keith; Album: Honky Tonk University; "As Good As I Once Was")
  Pixabay image, used under CCO license.
The lyrics by Scott Emerick and Toby Keith relate because I have, as the song says, "a few years under my belt." (How many is none of your business. After all, a lady has to keep some secrets.) The song lets me believe that no matter how old you are, you can still be good.

Now although the title is "My Theme" I'm cheating as these two songs alternate. The second teaser is:
  "If You're Going Through Hell"Songwriters: Annie Tate / Dave Berg / Sam Tate, Artist: Rodney Atkins
  Pixabay image, used under CCO license.
If you've been following the 52-week blog hop you know I am a caregiver. This song has kept me going when the challenges were great. When responsibilities unexpectedly grow or the world turns dark at 2 AM and the only light is from the machines monitoring vitals.

But there is more to the song that just the advice on handling fire. There is also hope.

And that is not the end of meaning to the song. According to Robynn Jaymes in her "Story Behind The Song" column, the title was inspired by two quotes: one from Winston Churchill. "If you’re going through Hell, keep going." And the other, an old Irish toast. "May you be in Heaven five minutes before the devil knows you’re dead."


This is a hop. Visit the other posts for more music to inspire or live by.
~till next time, Helen

A Secret of Imprisoned in Stone

Writers are often asked what they were thinking off when a scene written. To tell a secret, sometimes we don't know. When the Year's End dance of Imprisoned in Stone was being written, the muse and the characters controlled the pen.  I was totally surprised when the sprites appeared and danced with Rascal and Kai, magical equines called the seisag.

Winged flecks of gold appeared, first one then another, until a dazzling curtain of light soared over the meadow. “The sprites,” Tralin whispered. “It has been many years since they appeared.”

The thunder of hooves shattered the silence of the meadow. In a flash of white, Rascal galloped out into the center of the sprites. Kai moved like a dark shadow at the stallion’s side. Instead of a solid glowing sphere, the sprites broke apart into four balls that each mirrored the full moon. Clusters of the golden creatures settled on Rascal and Kai, limning them with a ghostly radiance. The remainder formed ethereal versions of the horse and seisag. Real and sprite-created horses cavorted around the meadow to an ancient tune that floated through the night.

However, that is not the end of the confession. The other day I was scanning the story, looking for posts to include in the MFRWAuthor Book Hooks.  Whether it was the passage of years since the book's release or viewing it with a different eye, but I uncovered a foreshadowing I had been unaware of when writing the book.

Neither man, seisag, or horse moved until a solitary moonbeam penetrated the darkness to pin Tralin in a pool of white.

Now that I've revealed a spoiler as to Tralin's fate, I hope you're intrigued enough to check out Imprisoned in Stone. Available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and elsewhere. Excerpts, a free read of the first chapter, and buy links available here.

~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, Welcome and Farewell, #MFRWHooks

We've seen the outfits and dance partners of the Year's End celebration. For the final excerpt in the series, a welcome and the foreshadowing of a farewell.

Excerpt:

A chime pealing across the meadow and all the crystal globes sang in response.

Surprise flooded Tralin’s face. “It can’t be.” In less than a heartbeat, a second bell rang out. “Quickly, follow me. And bring your glasses,” she ordered. Snatching up a bottle of wine, she raced outside. Snow swirled with her passage.

At the sight of her mistress disappearing in the darkness beyond the barn door, Maerva grabbed her shawl and ran after Tralin. Colwynn and Gareth followed a half-step behind.

Maerva’s frantic charge ended just beyond the chapel. “Mistress, you will catch your death.”

The older woman didn’t answer, but stood transfixed. Winged flecks of gold appeared, first one then another, until a dazzling curtain of light soared over the meadow. “The sprites,” Tralin whispered. “It has been many years since they appeared.”

The thunder of hooves shattered the silence of the meadow. In a flash of white, Rascal galloped out into the center of the sprites. Kai moved like a dark shadow at the stallion’s side. Instead of a solid glowing sphere, the sprites broke apart into four balls that each mirrored the full moon. Clusters of the golden creatures settled on Rascal and Kai, limning them with a ghostly radiance. The remainder formed ethereal versions of the horse and seisag. Real and sprite-created horses cavorted around the meadow to an ancient tune that floated through the night.

Maerva glanced at her mistress. It was almost as if decades dropped off the other woman’s age. Unlike the rapt expressions on Gareth and Tralin, a hint of self-satisfaction danced in Colwynn’s eyes. A realization struck. He has seen the sprites before.

“Old friends and new, thank you,” Tralin called. “Come, join me, Maerva. Not many get to see the sprites welcome in a new year.” She splashed wine into her glass and lifted the goblet high. “Sprites of the earth, dancers of the sky. In your honor, I offer this fruit of the vine.”

Maerva echoed the invitation. Gareth’s hesitant and Colwynn’s sure tones made their own offerings. Soon, tiny nymphs drank from each glass. Peering closely, she saw their individual features and golden wings magnified through the crystal.

Time suspended. An unearthly tune arose. It grew louder as more and more of the winged creatures soared skyward. They hovered in a final chorus, then circled to the stars in golden ribbons of light.

In their absence, silence cloaked the night. Tears burned Maerva’s eyes. Blinking, she fought to clear her vision. She was not the only one affected. Rivulets streamed down Tralin’s face. Neither man, seisag, or horse moved until a solitary moonbeam penetrated the darkness to pin Tralin in a pool of white.

 ~ ~ ~
Four paths--one destiny. With the power to bind souls and control all magic in the balance.

I hope you enjoyed this series of excerpts from Imprisoned in Stone. To help keep the posts suitable for a wider audience, the lighter aspects of the story were showcased, rather than the dark aspects of magic and men.

Imprisoned in Stone--available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and elsewhere.

Voice and Numbers #mfrwauthor

It's Friday. Time for another post in the 2018 challenge. More than halfway there and I haven't missed any posts. That's a surprise. And it ties in with this week's topic - Best Writing Advice I've Gotten."

Learn Your Craft
Find Your Voice
Just Enough Detail
Write the Best Story You Can
Edit the %$#$# Out of the Story

And to end the post a piece of advice I've used for both this hop and the Wednesday #MFRWauthor BookHooks. And that is Keep 10 Posts Ahead.



There's a lot more advice on the hop. ~till next time, Helen

Hooked on Imprisoned in Stone, The Dance, #MFRWHooks

Snippits from Imprisoned in Stone have revealed magic and jealousy, danger and rescue. Although it is a dark fantasy, there is also romance. 

Last week we focused on the preparations for the Year's End dance. But one question remained. Who will be Maerva's partner? Colwynn or Gareth? Now the answer. And fair warning, next week will be the final post in this series. The paranormal will come to the forefront with a welcome and a farewell.

Excerpt:

Taking the pot from Tralin, Colwynn set it on the table. “Now, my fair lady, if I may have the honor of the first dance?” He slid an arm around the older mage’s waist and walked her to the center of the aisle over smooth stones swept clean of its usual carpet of straw. Not even a single crunch or hint of dust accompanied their footsteps.

Maerva’s gaze followed the pair as arm in arm they glided in time to the music. Resentment that Colwynn asked Tralin and not her flickered through Maerva’s mind.

“Shall we join them?”

Startled at the soft voice in her ear, she looked up. Gareth’s shy smile expressed a feeling his words never had. Without waiting for an answer, he slid the pan from her nerveless fingers. She didn’t resist when he took her hand and pulled her close. Ever since he arrived, the only time he touched her was to illustrate a strike point or to offer a hand to help her to rise to her feet. The globes shifted to a pair’s dance common among fishermen. On a count of three, he led her into the opening steps. “I’m the lucky one,” he whispered.

Whether it was the wine or a consequence of Gareth’s growing magical abilities, Maerva sensed a change in him. Shyness no longer overwhelmed his wry smile. He was no longer the stern instructor in weaponry or the hesitant visitor who first came to the cottage. Now, he acted more lover than friend. And with each quiet word or caress, her skin flamed. With a sigh, she leaned her head against his chest. For a period of time, nothing existed except the sound of his heartbeat... and hers.

And as an added bonus, how Gareth came to have the first dance.

Colwynn bowed to Tralin and escorted her to a seat against the wall. He poured her a glass of wine and watched Gareth and Maerva dance. Although he was sure he had kept his emotions from showing in his face, Colwynn was glad the time to switch partners was near. The strain of watching Maerva threatened his vow for a harmonious new year.

“Thank you, Col,” Tralin said. “You’ve made an old lady very happy. I know you would rather be dancing with Maerva.” Her voice lowered. “How was it decided? Coin toss or dagger drop?”

“Coin toss. I figured it was fairer. As a weaponsmith, Gareth would have too much of an advantage if we decided the issue by flipping daggers.” Frustration caused a grimace to twitch his lips before he remembered his companion and forced a lighter emotion. “I still lost.”

“I guess I never told you. Gareth is lucky with coins. The same affinity he has for the metal in weapons, also applies to money.”

Now, you tell me,” Colwynn muttered.

 ~ ~ ~
Four paths--one destiny. With the power to bind souls and control all magic in the balance.

Imprisoned in Stone--available at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Kobo and elsewhere.

First or Second, Third or Deep #mfrwauthor

It's Friday again. Welcome to the MFRW author 2018 52-week challenge. We dish on topics of craft, writing life, and ourselves. This week the topic is First, Second, or Third Person point of view. Grammarly succinctly lists them as follows:

First person is the
     I/we perspective.
Second person is the
     you perspective.
Third person is the he/she/
     it/they perspective.


Now the prompt was open-ended. We can answer it as a reader, as a writer, or by craft.  As a reader I don't usually go for first person stories unless I am reading to a small child. As a writer of fantasy, there is too much backstory to have everything first person, especially since I have more than one characters point of view in a story. To avoid head-hopping, I keep to a single character's view in any given scene or chapter.

As both a reader and a writer, my preference is third person. But there is a caveat. As a writer I tend to do deep third. I like to pull the reader so far into the story that they are the character. In her article on Deep POV, Ann Laurel Kopchik states "Deep POV does not mean that the character bounces between third person limited and first person italicized thought."  So why or why not use Deep Third all the time. One reason that immediately came to mind is it can be grueling on both the reader and the writer. Sometimes we have to step back for a breath.

Which then begs the question, why not just do first person. Alicia Rasley in The Power of Point of View gives a valid reason in a major difference between deep third and first person POV.


“This [deep third] is the most intense and intimate POV level, more intimate, in fact, then first-person narration. 

Why? Because an effective first-person narrator can and probably will lie. Click to tweet.

In deep-immersion third person, the reader can assume that what’s reported is the deepest of personal truth, at least as far as the character knows.”

It's a hop and there are other posts on the topic. ~till next time, Helen