Cassandra Page's Blog, page 43

Versatile blogger blog hop: seven things about me

Many thanks to Debbie Vega, who nominated me for the Versatile Blogger award. I’m physically restraining myself from putting quotation marks around the word award in the previous sentence, though, because I didn’t get a medal to hangon the wall or anything. That being said, I always love a good blog hop. So here are the rules:

Thank the person who gave you this award. — Done!

Include a link to their blog. — Done!

Nominate 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award and include a link to their site. — See below.

Finally, tell the person who nominated you 7 things about yourself. — See below.

Nominations

Ok, so here are my fifteen nominations. Wait, fifteen?! No, I’m doing seven, because it has a nice parallel with the number of things about me. And because I’m drafting this at night after a long day, and I’m falling asleep! If, however, you read this and think, hey, I’d like to do that blog hop but she didn’t tag me, let me know in the comments and I’ll add you in. Because eight is a good number too. When I was a kid it was my favourite. Now my favourite is thirteen, because I’m contrary.

Ahem. Anyway. I’m nominating these seven because a) I want to know seven things about you, and b) if this were a proper award, with champagne and stuff, you would totally deserve it. If you decide to participate yourselves, please link your blogs back here so I don’t miss the stalking post!

The first is fabulous human bean (I’ve been reading the BFG to my son!), occasional beta reader and wonderful writer, Stacey Nash. Stacey writes speculative fiction. Her stories have a lot of adventure, a good dose of danger, and a smattering of romance (and KISSING!).
As well as also being a fabulous human bean, Lauren McKellar is one of the best editors I know — and given I’m a professional editor by day (and a CRIME FIGHTER by night!) I know quite a few. Lauren describes her first love as writing books that make you feel, by which she means you will need ALL OF THE TISSUES when you read her books. I think she may have shares in Kleenex.
Emily Mead is another Aussie Owned and Read blogger, and is one of the smartest, funniest teenagers I know. She and I disagree on the use of brackets vs en rules for the insertion of paranthetical statements, but don’t bring it up; it’s a touchy subject. Still, watch this girl. She’s going to go far!
Chynna-Blue Scott is hilarious, sarcastic, talented, and looks like she should be an actress in an urban fantasy movie of some kind. Seriously. Also, I suspect she might have a thing for this band called Fall Out Boy? It’s just a vibe I’m getting.
Fellow Whovian Pippa Jay writes scifi. Like Stacey’s books, hers don’t require a degree in astrophysics to follow along (although maybe her experience as a lab chemist helps her write them!), and they also have kissing. It’s all good by me!
The hilarious Julie Hutchings is friendly, open, also sarcastic, and did I already mention hilarious? She understands my coffee addiction, since she has one of her own. This makes us soul mates. Also, she writes about Japanese vampires.
Holly Kench likes to pretend she is the owner of a cat when clearly it’s the other way around. But I suspect that’s true of most cat owners! She believes feminist isn’t a dirty word (she’s right about that, by the way), and her comics make me giggle.

Seven things about me

One. I am supremely clumsy. If all the clumsy people in the world got together on an island, I would be their Supreme Leader (which, by the way, best job title in the world). My crowning glory in winning this achievement is the time that my trip to Italy was cancelled after I fell off a giant hat in Spain. True story. I was going to go to Venice and Pompeii and everything. *sniff*

Beware of Spaniards bearing giant hats.

Two. The original reason for my clumsiness is that my vision is rubbish — the follow-on reason is that once you twist your ankle a certain number of times, the ligaments and whatnot just give up the ghost. But back to the vision thing: without my glasses I’d bump into walls. Or fall off them. As well as being chronically shortsighted, my vision is uneven too, so my depth perception isn’t great — I have enough that I can drive a car but not enough that I don’t fall off giant hat. Apparently.

Three. I would be a cat person if I could, because cats suit my extreme laziness. They’re easily housebroken and slothful, like me. I even have a cat tattoo. Unfortunately, my immune system treats them as the hostile invaders they are, so I am not a cat person. Instead, I am a dog person. But not a puppy person. I have a puppy at the moment, and although he is growing more tolerable as he gets older, the puppy phase is so trying.

My tattoo may look cute, but I’m pretty sure it’s plotting something. Look at those eyes!

Four. I’m an Aries. If you believe these things, that means I’m stubborn, goat-like and enjoy eating grass and headbutting others. Or something. I was also born in the Year of the Dragon, so if I get indigestion, watch out I don’t breathe fire on you. (Since Aries is also a fire sign — goats being known for playing with lighters — that is twice as likely.)

Five. I am a single mother. I didn’t start out that way, but life twisted and turned like a twisty turny thing, and here I am. My son has just turned five, and he’s the most adorable, precocious, hilarious, frustrating little human in the world. I love him to bits, naturally.

I think he wants a tattoo too. Eek!

Six. Since I probably won’t have any more children, I shall instead have book babies (a phrase that if you think about it too hard is actually a bit gross). The process of producing a book from conception to final realisation — when you get to hold the book and pat its cover and change its nappy — takes a hell of a lot longer than having a regular kind of baby. But my books don’t backchat. Much.

Seven. My first ever band crush was when I was in my early teens. It was New Kids on the Block. Because at the time I was deaf to the offensiveness of 90s synth music, and mullets were cool. Now my favourite instrument is the violin or the human voice. Several of them, in harmony — instruments optional. Aww, yeah.

Short story: ‘Crimson’

I don’t often post short stories on here, but here’s one I wrote for The Midnight Type a few months ago, for Valentine’s Day. I don’t think it ever got shared there, and I figured Friday the Thirteenth was a suitable occasion to share it here. Because nothing says romance like Friday the Thirteenth, right?

Crimson

Original source

The sound of laughter chased Charlie into the girls’ bathroom, audible even over the thump-thump thump-thump of the pop tune blaring in the school hall.

The tiled room was empty. She skidded to a halt in front of the scuffed sink, teetering on unfamiliar heels. She’d spent six months saving for those heels, had been so proud of herself when she left her house after dinner, her parents waving goodbye with relieved smiles.

Charlie wasn’t proud anymore.

She turned the tap on with a savage twist and splashed cold water onto burning cheeks. When she looked in the mirror, droplets of water glittered like the tears aching in the back of her eyes would if she let them fall.

Her cheeks were the same crimson as her dress.

Voices approached the bathroom door. Biting her lip, Charlie ducked into a cubicle just as the outer door swung open.

“Someone left a tap on,” a voice said in tones of great disgust. Monica. “Honestly, people are so stupid. Don’t they know about the drought? What will the cows drink if we waste all the water?”

“Honestly,” another voice parroted. Monica’s offsider, Fiona.

Clicking heels—sounding much more stable than Charlie’s had—made their way over to the sink. The tap was turned off, and then there was the sound of a zip. A purse being opened.

Biting back a sigh, Charlie eased herself down onto the closed lid of the toilet and leaned her hot face on the cool wall of the cubicle, nose against the graffiti scribbles. If Monica was doing her makeup, it could take a while.

“Guess what I heard?” Fiona said, voice quivering with barely contained excitement.

“Uhh?” An open-mouthed reply.

Definitely doing her makeup. Charlie rolled her eyes, distracted for a moment by her contempt for the popular girls.

The popular girls she’d hoped she might join tonight. She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat. Her hands began twisting in the hem of her skirt, as though they had a mind of their own. Wringing the fabric like it was someone’s throat.

“Tyler invited Charlie to the dance.”

Twisting hands froze, tangled in fabric.

Charlie held her breath, clearly hearing a plastic compact snick closed.

“I heard. But you know why, right?” Monica’s voice also quivered, hers with glee. “So he could show her up in front of all his mates.”

“No way!”

“Uh huh. I heard them chanting ‘Charlotte the Harlot, dressed in scarlet’ just before I came in here. Why else would he ask her out, anyway?”

“Why else?” Fiona agreed.

The ringing in Charlie’s ears drowned out the rest of the girls’ conversation. Her mind dragged her back to the scene, still raw and bleeding in her memory. Tyler’s friends turning on her when she entered, looking for him across the crowded room. She’d thought he might defend her. He looked uncomfortable.

Surely he would defend her.

But he didn’t, and she’d fled—and if he hadn’t intended to set her up, wouldn’t he have defended her?

Wouldn’t he have picked her up at her house, met her parents, rather than suggesting she meet him at the school?

The slapping, slithering sound of leather on leather was louder than the ringing in her ears. Because it was in her mind. Goosebumps prickled along her arms: her blood had turned to ice, freezing her from the inside out.

“Let me deal with them for you.” A deep baritone. She’d heard it before.

“No,” she replied in a whisper, not knowing—or caring—whether Monica and Fiona were still in the bathroom. She stared down at her hands. They still clutched the crimson fabric. It wound around her white knuckles as though she might fall if she let go. Fall forever. “You can’t.”

“No, you can’t,” the voice replied, soft with concern. The sort of concern she’d wished for from Tyler, only minutes before. Then the voice hardened. “But I can.”

“What will you do?”

“What is necessary.” Her hands unclenched, smoothing the crumpled fabric mechanically. “Sleep now.”

And she did. As she always did.

***

When Charlie came back to herself, she was walking home, striding confidently in those hated new heels. Her hair reeked of smoke—not cigarette smoke but the heavy, greasy smoke of a house fire.

She slipped back into her body like a hand into a glove still warm from another’s use. Her steps stumbled, ankle twisting, and she caught herself on a light pole.

Her hands, splayed against the cool metal, were wound around with crimson. Not fabric, this time.

“What have you done?” she gasped.

“What was necessary,” the baritone voice replied with satisfaction. “I love you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Charlie began to weep.

Cover reveal: ‘Tethered’ by Pippa Jay

She can kill with a kiss. But can assassin Tyree also heal one man’s grief, and bring peace to a galaxy threatened by war?

For Tyree of the Su, being an assassin isn’t simply something she was trained for. It’s the sole reason for her existence. A genetically enhanced clone—one of many in Refuge—she’s about to learn her secluded lifestyle, and that of all her kind, is under threat by a race capable of neutralizing their special talents to leave them defenseless.

For Zander D’joren, being a diplomat has not only cost him his appearance, but also the love of his life. Scarred, grieving, he must nonetheless continue in his role as co-delegate to the fearsome Tier-vane or risk a conflict that could only end one way.

Now both of them need to keep each other alive and maintain a perilous deception long enough to renegotiate the treaty with the Tier-vane, or throw their people into a war that could wipe out Terrans and Inc-Su alike. But there’s more at stake than humanity, whether true or modified. Can the love growing between them save them both? Or merely hasten their destruction?

A science fiction romance novella, coming from Breathless Press 25th July.

Add it to your Goodreads shelf HERE .

Sign up to Pippa’s no-spam newsletter HERE to get early sneak peeks at covers, and news of the latest releases, giveaways and contest.

Excerpt

A thrill of excitement shivered down her spine as she backed away a few steps with Zander following. He shrugged off his formal outer robes, and for the first time she could appreciate the broad expanse of his chest, the close-fitting fabric stretched over well-defined muscles. It appeared he hadn’t allowed his physique to slacken, despite leaving the Galactic Commission.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Zander spread his hands in an open gesture to say that he was.

So why is he just standing there like a defunct Manikin instead of poised to fight?

Tyree took her combat position and Zander matched her, just as the Manikin had done. She’d never fought a human in combat practice before. This should be interesting.

She sprang forward and aimed two rapid punches at his face. Zander evaded both with a speed and grace totally out of proportion to his bulk. Her third he blocked with little effort, and she stepped back to reassess her strategy. But only for an instant.

A quick step forward and she lashed upward with her foot, snapping his head back. Zander staggered but didn’t fall. Her second kick failed as he grabbed her ankle and jerked her off balance. She twisted as she dropped and caught him hard in the knee. Zander collapsed. Both rolled aside, and then jumped up to face each other again.

Not bad.

Tyree bit back a laugh as they exchanged blows, each faster than the last. Zander blocked or evaded most, but not all. His skill almost matched hers, yet his defenses were just a fraction too slow. Each move she made tested his reach, his reflexes and his stamina until she could sense him struggling a little.

Time for the kill.

She floored him with a kick to the chest, the full weight of her augmented density behind it, but as she moved in to finish the fight he dove into her. Tyree landed on her back hard enough to drive the breath from her lungs.

Zander had her pinned to the ground. She bucked but couldn’t shift him. The triumphant smile on his face sent rage blazing through her gut. With hardly a whisper, she Misted out and went through him. Golden warmth filled her for a second before she pulled free. Zander pushed to his feet and spun to meet her, but she cranked up her molecular density and punched him hard in the chest. He collapsed, gasping and coughing. In one fluid movement she sat astride him at full density, and the air whumphed out of his lungs. She pinioned his arms with her hands, her face hovering mere centimeters above his.

As her breathing slowed to normal, a huge grin split her face. She’d made a vow to herself to jump him, and she’d done it. Perhaps it was childish, but it warmed her heart.

“Your…reputation…is well deserved,” he gasped.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she complimented him. He’d fought well, but perhaps not quite with the determination—and certainly not the desperation—of most opponents she’d faced. “For a human.”

“Thank you. Perhaps we could try this again tomorrow?”

Tyree laughed. As much as he could irritate the hell out of her, he was equally amusing. “If you want to spend most of your morning on the floor…”

He gazed up at her with that easy smile, making no effort to struggle. Most humans, without the influence of her pheromones and the distraction of her naked body writhing above theirs, would not have been so trusting. So compliant. She found herself staring at his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him, without the use of her talents? Would it be as satisfying? As sensual? The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath hers, sent heat spiraling through her abdomen.

“Perhaps you could let me up now?” His words jerked her from such musings. What the hell was she thinking?

About Pippa

After spending twelve years working as an Analytical Chemist in a Metals and Minerals laboratory, Pippa Jay is now a stay-at-home mum who writes scifi and the supernatural. Somewhere along the way a touch of romance crept into her work and refused to leave. In between torturing her plethora of characters, she spends the odd free moment playing guitar very badly, punishing herself with freestyle street dance, and studying the Dark Side of the Force. Although happily settled in the historical town of Colchester in the UK with her husband of 21 years and three little monsters, she continues to roam the rest of the Universe in her head.

Pippa Jay is a dedicated member of the Science Fiction Romance Brigade, blogging at Spacefreighters Lounge, Adventures in Scifi, and Romancing the Genres. Her works include a YA science fiction novel—Gethyon—published through BURST (Champagne Books), two self-published short stories (Terms & Conditions Apply and The Bones of the Sea), and she’s one of eight authors included in a science fiction romance anthology—Tales from the SFR Brigade. She’s also a double SFR Galaxy Award winner, been a finalist in the Heart of Denver RWA Aspen Gold Contest (3rd place), and the GCC RWA Silken Sands Star Awards (2nd place).

You can stalk her at her website http://pippajay.co.uk, or at her blog http://pippajay.blogspot.co.uk, but without doubt her favorite place to hang around and chat is on Twitter as @pippajaygreen.

Review: ‘The Cormorant’ by Chuck Wendig

Miriam is on the road again, having transitioned from “thief” to “killer”.

Hired by a wealthy businessman, she heads down to Florida to practice the one thing she’s good at, but in her vision she sees him die by another’s hand and on the wall written in blood is a message just for Miriam.

She’s expected…

The Cormorant is the third book in the Miriam Black series, and if you’ve read the first two you’ve got a pretty good idea of what you’re getting into. If you haven’t, and you like sweary, gory, action-driven urban fantasy, it’s worth going back and starting with Blackbirds, if only because it gives you some context for the events in this book. (For example, although Miriam thinks about Louis a lot in The Cormorant, he doesn’t actually make an appearance—at least, not directly.)

This series is unusual in so many ways. For a start, it’s written in the third person present tense. As a style, it really seems to work for action-based books like The Hunger Games. And this. But I did have to switch mental gears, at least at first, to get into it.

The storytelling is gory enough to make any splatter film director proud. At the start of the series Miriam is already violent—she’s homeless and cursed, so who wouldn’t be? By The Cormorant, as the blurb indicates, she’s turned into a sometime murderer as well. Miriam is not a nice girl. She drinks, chain-smokes and has some of the worst language I’ve ever seen in a work of fiction. (There’s also sex. But that bothers me less than people spitting bloody wads of spit at each other. Because ew!)

In Miriam’s defence, though, she’s been screwed by the nastiest urban fantasy superpower yet: if she touches someone, skin-to-skin, she knows when they’re going to die. We’re not just talking about a polite letter from Fate, either; Miriam sees their death in full surround sound HD, with in-built stink and pain. Miriam doesn’t see death. She experiences it. Over and over again.

I’d swear too. Like a sailor.

She definitely qualifies for a kickass leading lady, though. She knows how to fight, and she’s not afraid to fight back—like a feral cat with a pocket knife and, sometimes, a gun. Or her teeth, or forehead, or elbow. I think she’d fight with her pinkie given half the chance and presented with a deserving target.

Over the course of the series, Miriam learns how to mess with fate to save lives, and the plot of The Cormorant is, in a nutshell, Fate getting angry and hitting back. I won’t go into any more detail than that, because spoilers. However, writing a book that involves visions of the future, some of which are largely immutable, presents certain challenges for an author: challenges that Wendig handles with skill. It’s a joy to read.

Also, the end of the book provides an interesting ray of hope for Miriam. I can’t wait to see what happens next!

This Writer’s Space: Veronica Bartles

Today’s guest is Veronica Bartles, whose debut, Twelve Steps, I reviewed earlier this year. It’s a fun story about sibling rivalry. Take it away, Veronica!

Where I Write

My writing space isn’t confined to just one area. We live in military housing, and our house is too small for me to have an office space of my very own. And even though I’m sometimes totally jealous of my writing friends who have desks and offices of their own, I think it’s probably better this way. I’m less creative when I try to write in the same spot every day, so I bounce between several writing spots. Sometimes, I curl up on the comfy couch in the living room with my notebook and story pencils or my laptop.

Sometimes, I relax in my massage chair in the corner of my bedroom. (This is where I like to go when I’m stuck on an idea. The massage helps me to relax enough to track down the plot bunnies hiding in the back of my mind.)

My favorite writing space in my house is my treadmill desk. I’ve discovered that I can’t write first drafts on the treadmill, because I get so involved in the creative process that I forget where I am, and I’m likely to fall off. But I love to work on edits and revisions on the treadmill. With my blood pumping, my mind is more alert, and I feel like it’s easier to see the problems and issues that need fixing.

At least a few times a week, I also like to pack up my notebook and pencil (or my laptop, if I’m revising) and go to the botanic gardens, the library, a park, or a restaurant for a change of pace.

Where I’m Inspired

I get my inspiration pretty much anywhere. (This is why my writing space is so mobile.) But the best inspiration usually hits when I’m in a place where I can shut down my mental to-do list and let my mind wander into the creative zone. I try to go worship at the LDS Temple each week, because it’s so peaceful there, and I can almost always shut off my crazy brain while I’m there.

To Be Read

My TBR list is huge, and it’s growing every single day. This picture is just a part of my list – the print books that I have on my shelves right now that I’m dying to read right away. My lists on my Kindle and Nook are almost as long, and then of course there are the fabulous, pre-published manuscripts I often get to read. I’m glad I’m a fast reader, because even though I often read several books each week, my TBR list grows twice as fast as I can read. I’ll never catch up, but at least I never have to search for something new to read. I always have several more options waiting in the wings when I finish a book and get ready for the next adventure.

About Twelve Steps

Goodreads | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | iBooks | Amazon

Sixteen-year-old Andi is tired of being a second-class sibling to perfect sister Laina. The only thing Andi’s sure she has going for her is her awesome hair. And even that is eclipsed by Laina’s perfect everything else.

When Andi’s crush asks her to fix him up with Laina, Andi decides enough is enough, and devises a twelve-step program to wrangle the spotlight away from Laina and get the guy.

Step 1: Admit she’s powerless to change her perfect sister, and accept that her life really, really sucks.

Step 4: Make a list of her good qualities. She MUST have more than just great hair, right?

Step 7: Demand attention for more than just the way she screws things up.

When a stolen kiss from her crush ends in disaster, Andi realizes that her twelve-step program isn’t working. Her prince isn’t as charming as she’d hoped, and the spotlight she’s been trying to steal isn’t the one she wants.

As Laina’s flawless façade begins to crumble, the sisters work together to find a spotlight big enough for both to shine.

About Veronica

As the second of eight children and the mother of four, Veronica Bartles is no stranger to the ups and downs of sibling relationships. (She was sandwiched between the gorgeous-and-insanely-popular older sister and the too-adorable-for-words younger sister.) She uses this insight to write stories about siblings who mostly love each other, even while they’re driving one another crazy.   When she isn’t writing or getting lost in the pages of her newest favorite book, Veronica enjoys knitting fabulous bags and jewelry out of recycled plastic bags and old VHS tapes, sky diving (though she hasn’t actually tried that yet), and inventing the world’s most delectable cookie recipes.  TWELVE STEPS is Veronica Bartles’s first novel.

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Top Ten Tuesday: My Favourite Books of 2014 (So Far)

Today’s Top Ten Tuesday theme is the ten best books I’ve read so far this year. This is a hard one, you guys, like they’re asking me to choose between my children. (Of course, in reality I only have one child, but that’s NOT THE POINT!)

So, grudgingly, here they are — listed in alphabetical order. I mention this because it’s hard to make this list as it is; asking me to prioritise it internally is just too cruel.

Now, two of these books are not currently available, due to the collapse of a certain, lame small press earlier in the year. I realise this sucks for you, because they are awesome — but I fully intend to shout from the rooftops when they come back to us. And one of them is already on the way.

Cinder by Marissa Meyer. Take Cinderella, stick her in a future Earth and make her a second-class cyborg. Stir in some political intrigue, a terrible plague and a handsome prince, and I’m so there! Review.

Forget Me Not by Stacey Nash. The romance between Mae and Jax is well-developed and, even though I’m firmly Team Will (Mae’s best friend), by the end I thought Mae and Jax were a cute and above all realistic couple. Review. (Forget Me Not is scheduled for re-release by Harper Collins later this year. Oh my frickin’ god!)

Haze by Paula Weston. This is The Rephaim #2. I could just write IT’S AWESOME GO BUY IT RIGHT NOW in all caps and then put in some animated gifs of people squeeing all over the place, but that’s not particularly coherent. I gather there’s at least one more book in the series, maybe two. Like Shadows, Haze has an ending that has equal parts closure and setup for the next book. I MUST HAVE IT NOW! Review.

Immagica by K. A. Last. With this book’s main character, Rosaline, being fifteen, I thought maybe I’d be a little old for the story. I should have remembered I loved Harry Potter back when he was a scruffy twelve-year-old. Review.

In Stone by Louise D. Gornall. Beau’s voice shines from the beginning. Even crying over her broken heart in the park, her sass came through. I wanted to take her home, make her a hot chocolate and watch chick flicks with her. Which is saying a lot, because I NEVER watch chick flicks. Review. (In Stone has been re-released with a pretty new cover.)

Running Home by Julie Hutchings. This book is a bit like riding a roller coaster. It starts clicking along the track, and there’s a slow build … and then you get to the top of the first incline and it’s all waaaaaah! The particular vampire mythology is also something I haven’t seen before, which is saying something given how many vampire books are on the market. Review.

Sleeper by S. M. Johnston. Sleeper sits somewhere between YA and NA; the main character, Mischa, is eighteen and about to start university, but the themes sit closer to the more-typical YA fare of self-discovery. And while there’s a lot of kissing there’s no graphic detail in here that might make some teens (or parents of teens) uncomfortable. Review. (Sleeper is currently unavailable. :( )

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. Some of the moments in Stars are hysterically funny. I love the banter between Hazel, Augustus and Isaac. It’s often classic gallows humour, and although some people may find it shocking, if anyone is entitled to it, it’s those three teens, all with cancer that has cost them big time. When it’s not gallows humour, it’s still clever and wry. Review.

The Problem With Crazy by Lauren K. McKellar. For me to pick up a contemp, it has to be special. The Problem With Crazy blew me away. I stayed up till after midnight — on a work night, no less — thinking “just one more chapter”. Review.

Wicked After Midnight by Delilah S. Dawson. This is Blud #3. I love this series. Love love love. The world, a sort of medieval parallel to modern day Earth, is rich and dark and has clockworks and magic in equal measure. Plus Dawson’s love interests in each book are smoking hot, strong, dangerous to their enemies and respectful of their leading ladies (which is one of the reasons they are smoking hot, in my book!). Review.