Random Things

I added my "Other Debut Coverage" box back to the blog and got rid of all the old shared items. I shared some new stuff that came up recently, so be sure to check it out. This was always a good way for me to showcase what other bloggers are doing, and now that the pace of debuts has slowed back down, I think I'll be able to keep up. I found a good way of "cheating" to make things easier on myself!

I'll probably mention it every once in a while to remind you feed readers of its existence.

The Twitter Count chicklet refused to play nicely with other HTML, and I didn't want it taking up space in a box by itself, so until I can solve that problem, it's gone. You can subscribe to my twitter feed just under the box of my latest tweets. And I must say, I've been better about tweeting lately.

Clockwork Heart has been very, VERY good. No first-novel pet peeves so far, AT ALL. And there's not one, but TWO interesting male characters with whom the main character could form a romance. I like that. I don't like to be able to peg the guy who will get the girl from the first page. I guess that's why this blog isn't called Romance Debut.

I'm also going to write my review of one of my Discovery Showcase novels. I expect to post something in the next few days.

I think my latest Discovery Showcase, where I put my impression at the end of the post, worked out very well. I'm going to do that from now on. But I'm afraid I'm going to have to strip all formatting on all excerpts from now on. It's gotten to be too much of a struggle.

Today, Kat from Fantasy Literature and I are going to have a book exchange!!

I really need to arrange for some more author guest posts around here . . . and I need to get going on Epic Fantasy Week.

Discovery Showcase - Silver Mage

Note: I'm changing things again! My reaction is at the end of this excerpt instead of in a comment.

Silver Mage (Amazon USA, UK)
by CM Debell
Genre: Fantasy
Published by Matador

Blurb

In the first age of Andeira, men and dragons brought together the two halves of the elemental magic of the world to create a union through which the magic, and the world, could support and renew itself.

When war broke out, that union was destroyed, deliberately severed by the long-dead mages in a desperate attempt to stop their enemies. They knew the price of their actions – the dragons would disappear from Andeira until such time as it would be safe for them to return, stripping the world of half the elemental magic it needed to survive.

What the mages did not realise was that their enemies would survive the severing of the union, threatening the prophecy created by the dragons to ensure their return in a later age.

Three thousand years on a crippled world is slowly dying. New powers have risen in the world, powers that have no wish to see a return to the old ways, and the ancient enemy is stirring once more. For the few who remember what Andeira has lost, time is running out for the prophecy to be fulfilled.

But in the wrong hands, prophecy is just another weapon.

Excerpt (2,000 words)

In the last days of the Golden Age of Andeira an old man stood alone on the mountainside, waiting for his enemy to come to him. The night was silent, shrouding him in its heavy darkness, and though it hid the world from his sight he could still see. Far below him, surrounded by black peaks, lay the home of the dragons, the birthplace of life on Andeira, wild beautiful Andeira that both races cherished and kept whole by their union. A place that once had welcomed him but was now closing itself to his kind. The sadness of it brought tears stinging to his eyes but he brushed them away. There was no place now for that grief. Too many others were crowding in on him—for a friend lost, for everything he loved that was slipping away.

For the fault that was his, for the pride that had led him to keep it to himself.

And yet I hoard my secrets still, even now when the world is collapsing around me.

His hands clenched tight in the folds of his robes. I keep them because it is my duty, he told himself fiercely, but the reassurance was empty, for the secret he had kept had brought them to this.

‘Duty?’ murmured a voice from the darkness. ‘What a burden that must be, Lorrimer.’

The fear slivered down his spine but he refused to let it show. He turned slowly, looked into the eyes of the other.

‘I did not think you would come.’

A wry smile tugged at his enemy’s mouth. ‘Then why are you here?’

Lorrimer held his gaze, straining to see past the shutters that kept out the world. He shrugged. ‘Hope, perhaps. Fear, mostly.’

‘Fear?’ Aarkan quirked an eyebrow. ‘You fear me?’

Lorrimer shook his head. ‘What you are becoming, not what you are.’

A soft laugh answered him. Aarkan moved closer, youth and strength where he was old and bent, confident where he knew only doubt. Lorrimer looked at the man who had brought his people to the edge of ruin, and felt a stab of bitter grief for everything he had been. Tall and dark, black hair brushing his shoulders, Aarkan returned his gaze. His skin was coloured a deep tan by the sun, his hard, handsomefeatures sculpted from granite. Features so achingly familiar, changed beyond all recognition.

A smile twitched that face to wry amusement as Aarkan permitted his silent scrutiny. Arms crossed over his chest, he was utterly composed.

Why should he not be? Lorrimer thought bitterly. He has within him now more power than any mortal creature.

‘What am I becoming, old one?’ Aarkan asked then, gently mocking.

Lorrimer closed his eyes, holding back the emptiness. He wondered where Srenegar was, knew the great dragon would be near. Had to be near, for these two could no longer hold themselves apart for long. They had looked into the heart of creation, just as he once had. They had seen the power that it held, and they had opened the way to the river of bright power that would carry them on its soaring, glorious tide to the centre of all things.

‘Something other than you were born to be.’

‘Something greater.’

‘No.’

The denial was instinctive. It was utterly wrong, this thing they had done, that they tried to do. They were the children of Tesserion, the Maker of life, charged to stand guard over her creation not to remake it, as this man would do. To preserve the world as she had made it, as it was meant to be.

Long ago when Andeira was young, Tesserion the Maker gave her first gift to the world she had made. She gave the dragons. Wild and free they roamed the empty world, wielding the elemental magic that was their birth-gift, but the world was still unfinished and their magic incomplete. Tesserion had another race to birth, and Men followed after and brought about the dawning of the Second Age of creation. To Men she entrusted the other half of the magic that was Andeira, the elemental power that brought forth life and carried it home in death.

Two halves of a whole, utter opposites yet perfectly matched. The magic that divided them brought them together. Together they took the final step; they joined their magic, tied it tight, and bound themselves to one another. Earth, Air, Water and Fire, made pure at last, brought forth the last element and allowed it to pour out into Andeira, the Spirit of Tesserion breathing life into a half-made world.

That union defined existence; it made existence possible, perpetuated through every generation. Lives shared, made richer for the sharing. Twin magics wielded as one. It was a partnership that served the needs of both races, that tempered their vulnerabilities and their strengths, and it made the world whole at last.

But for Aarkan and Srenegar, having looked into that darkly beautiful place at the heart of creation, it could no longer be enough.

‘Give up this folly,’ Lorrimer pleaded. ‘Do not challenge the council. Return –’

‘To what I was? Is that why you came? Did they send you to reason with me?’ Aarkan shook his head. ‘You cannot stop me, Lorrimer, nor should you try. This is my right.’

The old mage felt he might drown in the sorrow of it. ‘None of us has that right, Aarkan. You trespass where you do not belong and if you choose not to see that, others cannot be so blind. This union you seek is wrong. To join one soul with another is to take creation into your own hands, and that was never the province of any save the Maker herself. Such a thing as you will become was never meant to walk Andeira’s fair lands. It takes neither courage nor strength to resist you. If we want to live, we have no choice.’

He saw anger then, a wildness seeping into his enemy’s eyes. Aarkan took two fierce steps foward before control pushed back the shadows of madness­—the madness that would consume him and tear him apart before it destroyed him utterly. Breathing hard, hands clenched, he recovered himself, and Lorrimer knew real fear then, knew how close he had come.

‘I do not bring death to my world,’ Aarkan told him, his voice rough-edged by anger. ‘Why should I wish to destroy? What would be left for me to –’

‘For you to rule?’

Met by silence, the quiet words echoed around them for an age. Then Aarkan threw his head back and laughed out loud to the wind. ‘Does not the Maker rule her creation, old man? Should I not do the same with mine?’

Lorrimer felt something break inside him then. What have you created? he wanted to ask, but he feared the answer. So instead he turned away, gazing once more at the world he loved that was changing.

‘I have come to warn you.’

‘How noble. What is your warning? That the council will refuse me? That my own people have turned against me?’ It was said mildly, but there was sudden fire in Aarkan’s eyes. And somewhere out in the vastness of the night a dragon was stirring. ‘That it must be war if I refuse?’

‘What need have you of such warnings? No, I have come to show you your future.’

‘My future?’ Aarkan scoffed. ‘What can you show me, old man, that I have not already seen?’

‘You see only what you choose,’ Lorrimer replied, taking his courage in both hands. ‘Not what is, not what will be.’

Aarkan took a step back, and Lorrimer felt the shifting strands of his magic grow. ‘Do I?’ he asked silkily, and as he spoke the landscape around them began to change. Behind the mountains the sun rose, though the dawn was hours away, and its golden light shone down on a new world. A world that Lorrimer knew, and yet was not his. ‘I will show you what I have seen, Lorrimer, what you have seen.’ And the far-flung web of his magic settled around them.

Lorrimer saw the Maker’s world brought to glorious bloom under a golden sun, the smallest blade of grass full to overflowing with Tesserion’s grace. Even the sky seemed to shimmer, a heat haze of swirling magic, and the breeze that plucked at his cloak whispered with life. But his eyes saw more clearly than Aarkan’s. Beneath the heady, frantic pulsing of life lay the start of the decay, and he knew this vision for what it was, the last flowering of Andeira before her decline. Before the sheer power of the magic Aarkan would unleash burnt her to a husk.

It would pass in a heartbeat, that moment of pure perfection, the instant in time that Aarkan’s vision held steady by force. It would pass and leave behind it a dead, decaying world, empty of life, but even knowing this he could not help but glory in it.

‘You see what I will do?’ Aarkan asked, his voice unsteady with rapture. ‘Do you not see?’

And Lorrimer did see. He saw to the very heart of it, to the ambition that twisted his enemy’s soul. No longer content with partnership, no longer content to be constrained by the limits of mortality, they believed themselves to be poised on the edge of something infinitely greater. Lorrimer ached to his bones at the tragedy of it, for he had once stood where Aarkan stood now, and he too had dared to dream this dream. The man before him was no longer truly a man, and his dragon had no kinship now with others of his kind. No longer two souls, not yet one, the individuals they had been were crumbling away and in their place was something other. Where two races had brought to each other one half of the elemental whole, they sought instead to make just one, born of the two, that would be the elemental whole.

Aarkan believed he could rise to the greatness of Tesserion herself, and her creation would be his to control. But he was wrong. There would be no glorious flowering of Andeira, there would be no ecstatic triumph over their mortal natures. Instead there would be a war that would bring an end to his world, as those two became one and that one knew neither who nor what it was, only the hunger for power.

‘I see,’ Lorrimer replied, tearing his gaze from the treacherous vision lest it snare him too, as it had almost done, so many years ago. ‘But do you? Look closer, my friend. At the heart of life there is only death.’

Silence, so cold and deep it seemed to freeze them both, then rage rose in a sudden wave, sweeping aside that beautiful, dying world. The night crashed down, hiding the light of the burning sun, and the dragon in the mists below screamed in fury.

‘Even you deny this?’ Aarkan demanded. ‘Even you, who has seen what I have seen?’

‘Even I, more than anyone. My friend, you do not know what you have done.’

Lorrimer expected to die then. He had seen his death in Aarkan’s eyes, but it did not come and he would never know why. He wanted to believe that even at the brink of his descent into the creature he would become, there remained in Aarkan enough of the man he had been that he could not murder one who had been a friend. But as Lorrimer looked one last time into his face he saw no recognition there, only dark anger and darker purpose, and the dragon that raised itself up behind him. The thundering of great wings fanned the air into eddies, snatching at Aarkan’s cloak so it whipped behind him like living shadow. Then they were gone, leaving him old and alone at the ending of the age.

Discovery Showcase Information

Here are the upcoming Discovery Showcases, in the order in which they may appear:

• Tamar Black - Djinnx'd
• Prophecy of Hope
• The Heroes of Nightingale

If you want to have the first chapter of your unpublished or self-published novel featured at Fantasy Debut as a Discovery Showcase, please read how to do so here.

My Thoughts

Some comma errors were very distracting at first, but by the end of the opening paragraphs, I stopped noticing problems and was just caught up in the story. Some of the elements may be a bit cliched (dragons, power-hungry antagonist) but the blending of dragon and human power was intriguing. Yes, it was done in Dragonriders of Pern, but not in such a way that the union was forbidden, and that had the potential to unmake all of creation.

I found the dialog smooth and polished. It's too bad the opening paragraphs weren't grammar-perfect, because the rest of the excerpt is quite gripping. So if you jumped down here to read my thoughts, I think it's worth reading the rest of it.

I loved the line in the blurb about prophesy in the wrong hands being just another weapon.

I get the feeling that this is a prologue; that the old man is not the main protagonist. If I had the book, I would keep reading.

I'd love to read your reaction as well!

Grr. The Chinese Spammers are Back

Why does't Google do something to combat the comment spam problem? It could even be something as simple as preventing a commenter from posting a comment in a different language than the original post. Or, it could be context-driven. They are SO SMART about delivering context-sensitive ads in Gmail, AdSense and their search engine--why not apply the same technology to comment spam?

Since I hate captchas and moderating my comments, I'll just keep manually quashing them as the spammers post them.

Some Book Nibbles - Which Should I Read Next?

I have a bunch of debuts that I've sampled lately, and I thought I'd post my thought on what I've read so far.

(I have actually finished a book recently. It is What Happened to the Indians by Terence Shannon. I'm going to be reviewing it for Self-Publishing Review, but I'll post a snippet here.)

The only current debut in this group is Night of Knives by Ian C. Esslemont. I'm finding it a bit opaque. After a prologue (the subject of a future post) that didn't engage me with any characters, I was ready for the official chapter one. However, it reads a bit like a vocabulary exercise. We have a "verdigrised helm" (which means its tarnished from copper), a menhir (which is an oblisk) and "almond eyes of burning gold nictitated to life." (I had to look that one up, and it means "to blink"). This kind of hits on a reader pet peeve of mine. I subscribe to the Mark Twain school of thought when it comes to readability, and that is to "Use the right word, not its second cousin."

The rest are older debuts.

Clockwork Heart by Dru Pagliassotti engaged me immediately, and has the strongest hook of the group. It's about a young woman who delivers messages over a clockwork city by means of a set of mechanical wings. It opens with her rescuing the occupants of some sort of skyway car that is about to crash.

Innocent Mage by Karen Miller reads like a character development novel. I'm finding it readable, but also easy to put down. Its about a young fisherman who goes off to live in the big city. Little does he know his coming was prophesied, and that the friends he recently make are carefully shaping his destiny.

I'm actually about one-quarter of the way through Griffin's Shadow by Leslie Ann Moore. It continues with the story of Jelena as she goes to meet her father, the king of the Elves. Right away she finds herself in the midst of political manuvering. The repressed half-elves of the novel are fascinating, and there's a satisfying amount of conflict, especially from an unexpected source. However, there are so many point-of-views in this novel that I'm having trouble keeping engaged.

I've read the first three chapters of The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry. It's about a modern-day girl who runs away from both her hometown and her ability to read lace, which is a way to read the future. She is called back to town--Salem, Massachusetts--when her lace-reading elderly aunt disappears. It is both readable and engaging, and I could easily keep going.

I snagged a copy of Winterbirth by Brian Ruckley at the used bookstore last month. Last night I read the prologue, which interested me deeply. (That's they thing about prologues. They work when they work, and they don't when they don't. Probably the worst prologues for me to get through were the ones written by Robert Jordan.)

I'm looking to read something non-challenging. Which one do you think I should read next?

Just For Fun - Marvel Illustrated Pride and Prejudice #1

As an obsessed Jane Austen fan who has been an comic book fan in the past, I gushed unabashedly over Marvel's adaptation of Pride and Prejudice when I first learned about it. It was a bit hard to find at first, but it finally showed up at my local Books-a-Million. I had arranged to meet Kat of Fantasy Literature there, and I hope I didn't make a bad first impression on her when I was all over the comic book like the younger Bennet girls on men in red coats.

Now that the second issue is due out, I remembered to blog about the first.

The issue, which was penned by romance author Nancy Butler and drawn by Hugo Petrus, takes us from the famous first lines ("It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.") all the way through the end of Jane's visit to Netherfield. The text holds no surprises, which is just as it should be. Ms. Butler's job appeared to be picking out the bits of dialog that propelled the story along, and with as few narration balloons as possible, manage to tell a fifth of the story in a standard-issue comic book. It can't have been easy. She did make subtle alterations to dialog--enough to make footnotes and explanations unnecessary. For example, Mrs. Bennet says:

Tiresome man! You must call on him, of course. Mr. Bingley is to marry one of our girls. You know they will be left penniless once you are gone. Indeed you must go, for it will be impossible for us to visit him, if you do not.

and Mr. Bennet responds,

You are over-scrupulous, surely. I dare say, Mr. bingley will be very glad to see you. I will send a note throwing in a good word for my little Lizzy.

This condensed a whole page of dialog into two lines, plus throws in a hint of the Bennet's financial situation, which doesn't come up until much later in the book. I think Ms. Butler stuck very well to the spirit of the text and the feel of the dialog.

I was impressed by the artist's strict adherence to the fashions of the day. And indeed, true Austenophiles would demand nothing less. It was good that they recruited a romance author as the writer. I imagine she also served as consultant.

At first I wondered why Mrs. Bennet was not in an empire waist gown, but then I realized that it was entirely probable that Mrs. Bennet would wear fashions that were popular in "her day." You can also see the traces of the youthful beauty that she must have had once in order to attract Mr. Bennet in the first place. Jane and Lizzy are exactly what they should be, with Jane a blond and Lizzy a brunette. Contrary to the cover image, Lizzy does not look like Jennifer Ehle from the A&E Adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. Lydia is a sultry beauty, Kitty a plain redhead and Mary a snooty-looking brunette. The artist used great restraint with various feminine attributes--there's hardly any cleavage to be seen in the entire issue.

As for the men, Mr. Bingley is a sideburned blond, with an everpresent smile. Mr. Darcy is predictably dark and handsome--no surprises there. I do wish the artists had found a way to make him something more than a generically handsome Ken doll.

The letterers--Alejandro Torres and David Sharpe-- had a bit of a boring job, with only straight dialog to letter, hardly an explanation point in the whole thing. The only text effects appear when Jane goes to Netherfield in what becomes a thunderstorm, with a KRAKKKA BOOM. I'm glad they didn't intrude with too many text effects. I'm curious about how they plan to handle Darcy's letter. It went on for pages and pages in the book, and could surely fill an entire issue by itself. I hope they attempt to portray it in how them imagine Darcy's handwriting to look.

The ads seemed completely misplaced, since certainly Marvel's usual readers will not be reading this comic. So the ads for The Immortal Iron Fist, Wolverine, Spider-Man and Cable are a jolt. I think the advertising department should come up with a different advertising model for the Marvel Illustrated series, since certainly the readers of those comic are unlikely to pick up an issue of a slavering Wolverine. At the very least, they should offer different artwork. If they wish to lure a reader of Pride and Prejudice into picking up an issue of Wolverine, then perhaps they ought to show artwork featuring Wolverine's more gentle side.

All in all, it was well worth the $2.50 that Books-a-Million charged for it, which is half the price on the cover. Just a tasty morsel of fun, which is just what a comic book ought to be, and wholly without the usual embarrassing artwork.

More on Feeds, Plus Upcoming Stuff

If you're interested in seeing how many comments each post has without clicking through to the blog, you might want to subscribe to my Feedburner feed. This didn't work a few months ago (part of the reason I didn't publicize my Feedburner feed), but it is mysteriously working now.

I keep track of both feeds, so it doesn't make a difference to me which feed you use.

~*~

Since the number of debuts each week has dropped, I'll have more time to do my favorite type of reviews--the As-I-Read-It kind. I'm currently sampling two books: Knight of Knives by Ian C. Esslemont and The Lace Reader by Brunonia Barry. The Lace Reader came out a few years ago, but now it is debuting in England, which is why I was sent a copy. Has any of you read either?

I'd also like to arrange for some more guest posts. Anyone you'd like to hear from?

Mystified by Feeds

I've long been mystified by Feedburner, and I'm pretty tech-savvy. It persistently tells me that I have 40 or so subscribers, when according to the Blogger Dashboard, it is closer to 286, with that number constantly going up. I'm clueless. I've put a new subscriber button on my site that will direct new subscribers through Feedburner. Maybe that will help. Advice is welcome.

Genre Break - Series Review - Gaslight Mysteries

Followers of my Twitter feed will know I've been cheating and reading Victoria Thompson's Gaslight Mysteries. Every now and then, I do take what I call a Genre Break, which recharges my fantasy-craving brain cells.

I first learned about this series via Mystery Robin's post on Enduring Romance. After a long delay, I finally bought the first three book in the series and immediately handed them off to a friend, because I knew she would like them as well. Well, she read those books and passed them back to me; then she bought and read the next six books, and passed them all to me as well! And now, I've read the first three books.

These books make me remember why I need to read novels by seasoned authors every once in a while. They are so wonderfully written that I can just utterly lose myself in the story. Debut novels tend to have little annoyances and after reading a long string of them, I get too critical. And the genre of fantasy has its own annoyances--such as the ever-villain and ubiquitous youthful male protagonists--and every now and then, I just need to get away from them for a while.(That isn't to say that mystery doesn't have its own problems, such as the villain monologue and the everlasting romance. But at least those problems are different.)

Sarah Brandt is a midwife during the 1890s. She comes from a background of privilege, having been born to the wealthy Decker family. However, she married a doctor--who her family considered beneath her--and at the start of the series, is estranged from her family due to mysterious circumstances after her husband's death, three years previously.

Frank Malloy is an Irish cop with the New York police department. The police during this time period are famously corrupt, and Malloy seems to fit right in with them. Sarah can hardly stand him, but she pesters him into actually solving the first case that brought them together. With Sarah's help, of course.

They both have prejudices against each other's profession--Malloy because he thinks a midwife botched the childbirth that killed his wife, and Sarah because the police wouldn't investigate her husband's death without a bribe.

Ms. Thompson portrays Malloy unapologetically as a product of his time. He's working long hours in order to pay the significant bribe necessary to buy a captaincy. He regularly beats confessions and clues out of suspects and witnesses, and when he doesn't beat them outright, he uses intimidation. People know he's a cop at a glance, even though as a detective sergeant, he never wears a uniform. But somehow, in spite of all this, Malloy is completely likable. I admit it--I read the book for him.

Sarah can get annoying from time to time. When she's on a case, she tends to pester potential suspects until she wears out her welcome. But she has no qualms with bugging someone who she thinks is guilty, so we can't fault her for that. And she has endless patience. Her medical knowledge even allows her to occasionally kick ass. But don't worry, she does not have the "kickassitude" heroine of today's urban fantasies. And Malloy thinks his efforts to attain her good opinion is ruining him as a cop.

The first book, Murder on Astor Place, was good enough for me to jump right into the second, Murder on St. Mark's Place. That one was so good that I eagerly read the third one at once, Murder on Gramercy Park. The first two novels focused a lot on character development. We learn exactly why Malloy wants his captaincy, and it's not out of pure greed. We learn a little about Tom Brandt's mysterious death. Of the three, Murder on St. Mark's Place is my favorite. Gramercy Park did not focus enough on character development to satisfy me.

At this point, I've had my fill, and will be turning back to fantasy. When I've read the next three books in the series, I'll put up another post.

If you occasionally like mysteries, I can't recommend this series highly enough.

Discovery Showcase - The Proving

The Zambinos of Blue Hill: The Proving (Amazon)
Author: Will Azeperak (Amazon blog)
Genre: Science Fiction, Young Adult
Profanity: None
POD Publisher: iUniverse, Inc. (November 16, 2003), 284 pages, illustrated.

Blurb:

By the mid twenty-first century civilization will be colonizing the near reaches of the solar system. Honor and honesty will be highly valued. People may choose to receive a brain implant, called a grain, which imparts great knowledge. It is customary to perform a proving-a feat of intellect that proves that the grain is operational.

In the year 2063, you will find the Zambino family residing at 125 Puffin Rock Road in Blue Hill, Maine. Even for these remarkable times the Zambinos are not your average family. Chookanoo Zambino and his genetically engineered, adopted brother Scoom can't wait to get their grains and then, build a spacecraft for their proving.

They can count on help from family, friends and the household robot, Zimbit.

But, ancient spirits from beyond have a different proving for the Zambino boys. What do they have in common with a Civil War solder, a Nez Pierce warrior, a Roman centurion and the crew of a schooner that disappeared in 1891? Discover the secret reason Scoom was genetically engineered by a renegade scientist.

So, liquefy some electricity and fire up the hyperbaric engines-it's time to go for a ride with the Zambinos of Blue Hill.

Chapter 1

The Duchess and the Whale

 

September 12, 1891: On board the schooner Grand Banks Duchess, 30 miles off the coast of New England:

 

            “Mr. Wendell, are you sure that you and these men wouldn’t rather stay on board the Duchess?” Chancy Morgan asked with a slight Irish brogue.

            “All the same, Mr. Morgan, We’d feel safer in the dories. That monster has its sights set on the Duchess,” the ship’s quartermaster Sam Wendell, replied as he held onto the rope handles of the ladder, one foot on deck the other on a ladder rung. Three small dories rolled over the waves behind him. The men in the dories anxiously rowed out to sea. Sam then turned to Elizabeth Sully, a passenger. The young woman stood on the heaving deck. Her long yellow dress flapped in the wind. She held tight a thick shawl around her shoulders and neck. The wind whipped about strands of her auburn hair that was otherwise tied up in a bun, “How about you madam? I’ll ask you one more time—if you and your two children would come with us?”

            Chancy turned to her, “Mrs. Sully, I heartily recommend that you stay on board.”

            “Thank you, Mr. Morgan and Mr. Wendell, for your concern, but I have made up my mind to stay on board the schooner.”

            “Very well madam, I’ll ask you no more.” Sam then turned to the remaining crew, “How about you Manito, Juan, Old Ned—coming with us?”

            “I ain’t giv’n up this vessel without a fight.” declared Ned, the old, the white whiskered, first mate.

            “No Sam, we stay with our ship.” replied Manito, a tall slim, Portuguese fisherman, as he patted Juan on the shoulder. Juan, also Portuguese gave a cautious nod to Sam—Juan spoke no English.

            The ship’s captain, Howard Reech, leaned over the gunwale as Sam Wendell and most of the crew of the Grand Banks Duchess rowed off in the small dories, “God’s speed Sam—and watch them growing swells!” the captain shouted.

            “I pray that that monster returns to the deep, Captain Reech!” Mr. Wendell called back. “And, I pray for your safety!” he added as the dories disappeared over the Atlantic swells.

            “We’re not the ones in little dories,” the captain mumbled to himself as he turned towards the few remaining crew and two passengers. “Well Mrs. Sully, Mr. Morgan—we will proceed on to New York, as planned.”

            “Captain, do you think that the whale, or whatever it is, will attack?” Mrs. Sully asked.

            “It could swallow us up, like Jonah himself.” Old Ned said with wide and excited eyes.

            “Oh, pipe down Ned, you’ll frighten the poor woman.” The captain huffed as he attempted to light his pipe.

            “You pipe down, it could happen! That’s one big whale—I can tell by the boil that rises when it moves.” The old sailor fired back.

            Mrs. Sully turned to the captain, “Captain Reech, I am no more frightened than anyone else on board this ship. But, that creature has been following us for three days.”

            “Madam, I honestly, don’t know what that whale will do. But I do know that with this wind, the Duchess can out run it and we’ll make harbor in a day and a half. Then I’ll send out word about the dories.”

            “I hope that you are right Captain, for our sakes and the sakes of my two children.”

            Chancy attempted to produce a reassuring smile, “Mrs. Sully, I have studied all things scientific, including marine science, and I can assure you that there is no whale with a throat large enough to swallow a man, much less an entire ship.”

            “Thank you, Mr. Morgan; I hope that you too are right.”

 

            The men dug their oars in deep and pulled their dories over the heaving swells. Sam Wendell kept his eyes fixed in the direction of the Grand Banks Duchess. Only the ship’s sails could be seen against the darkening skies. With each swell the yellowed canvas poked above the cold gray waves and caught the pink light of the setting sun.

            Then, one of the men, eyes wide and fixed, stood in his dory and silently pointed towards the Duchess’s position. The men watched in horror as a bright blue glow appeared over the waves and then subsided. A great deep thrum made the water dance all around the dories and reverberated up through the floorboards. The men lifted their feet in alarm.

The vibration subsided. The sails of The Grand Banks Duchess did not appear with the next up-swell.  The men sat in stunned silence.

“May God have mercy on their souls,” a shaken Sam Wendell prayed.

Chapter 2

The Doctor’s Work.

Miami: October 13, 2052:

 

            A dull red spot on the cold steel door grew into a brilliant shower of white-hot sparks as an electron laser burned through the metal. The bright laser illuminated the dark laboratory. The laser flashes cast eerie dancing shadows on the walls through the laboratory equipment. Drops of incandescent molten steel plopped onto the floor. The laser cutter inscribed a glowing rectangular path around the inside of the door’s edges.

            For a moment, all was quiet, except for the still sizzling laser cut. A loud bang shattered the silence and the cutout section of the door blasted into the room. A large, black chrome robot peered into the opening. It was still holding its massive hand in a fist, having just punched the door in with pile driver force. The cutting laser, in its other hand retracted into the machine’s arm. The robot made a growling sound as it ducked its head below the top edge of the door and stepped into the room. Lights on the robot’s head and body switched on and beamed into the darkness. The letters “FBI” lit up in blue across the robot’s chest.

            “All right, the smashbot’s through, we’re going in.” lead agent, Victor Zambino spoke into his radio headset. He stepped behind the robot and reached up and grabbed a handle that was situated behind the robot’s neck. Victor pulled down and a platform unfolded out from the robot’s back and hung like a hiker’s backpack. Victor switched on his rifle and stepped up onto the platform. He was now back to back with the robot.

            “Ok, Charlie, let’s go.” Victor said to the robot.

            With another growl the robot advanced slowly through the abandoned laboratory.. Two other agents, with rifles ready, scampered in behind the robot.

            “Bioscans are clicking, but nothings moving.” a voice came over Victor’s radio.

            “Vic we’re watching the monitors, but we don’t know what we’re seeing,” another voice crackled into Victor’s headset.

            “Birthing equipment—Mellonini’s got this place full of gene grafters and birthing tanks.” Victor replied.

The robot walked past a large complicated machine. Parts of it were a tangle of wires and tubes. In the center was a soft, gelatinous sac that had been cut open. Sensors and tubes covered the sac’s outer walls.

            “Be careful Vic.” the voice said.

            “Mellonini’s not the booby trap type,” Victor replied, “Just keep the press back, ok.”

            “Don’t worry Vic—the press doesn’t seem too anxious to crowd in. I think they’re afraid of what Mellonini’s got in there.”

            “Yeah, me too. I’m stepping off the smashbot.” Victor said as he jumped off of the robot’s backpack platform. He walked up to the birthing machine and ran his hand over the metal framework. “This is a very sophisticated meat grower,” he said as he peered into the glass covering of the machine’s inner chamber.

            Victor motioned to two other agents, “Jane, Ty, look at this.”  The agents cautiously flanked Victor and looked into the chamber. “See, here, the sac’s been cut open.”

            “A birth?” Jane asked

            “That or a reject,” Victor said as he turned to Ty, “Anything more on the bioscanner?”

            The agent held up the scanner, a biological material sensor, “Just organics, nothing metabolizing...” A red light on the scanner began flashing. The scanner’s display flashed the message: Mobile Organic.

            “Where?” Victor demanded in a hushed tone.. Ty pointed at a door at the far end of the room.

            “Charlie, follow the scan, shield all field agents.”

            The robot growled and stepped forward. Weapons popped out of the robot’s arms as its heavy footsteps thumped the floor. The agents huddled close to the smashbot and followed it to the simple wooden door. Victor looked down at the bottom of the door.

            Light was shining out from the inside.

            “Okay Charlie, open with the knob and aim to cover.” Victor said as he adjusted a setting on his rifle from subdue to wound.

The robot reached down and gently wrapped its large hand around the doorknob. The latch clicked and the robot slowly pushed open the door. A soft light poured out from the room. The sound of happy music was playing—children’s music.

         Jane craned her neck and peered around the smashbot “It’s all pink and blue in there.”

            The smashbot walked into the room and came to a stop in front of a large baby crib, its head tilted down to look inside of the crib. The crib had solid walls and the agents couldn’t see what was inside.

            As Victor walked around Charlie, he spotted a robot standing at the opposite side of the crib. It was an unusual robot in that it had a pleasant face and was wearing an old fashioned nurse’s hat.

            “Cover me,” Victor said as he cautiously approached the crib and looked in.

            “Ge!” a tiny voice called out and made the agent’s hearts jump. Jane and Ty stepped out from behind the smashbot to see Victor smiling as he stared down into the crib.

            “Stand down Charlie.” Victor said as he swung his rifle behind his back and it automatically latched onto the back of his suit. He then leaned into the crib. The other two agents carefully looked over the edge.

            A furry baby with a cat’s face lit up into a smile when he spotted Victor. He reached his arms up to Victor. Victor reached into the crib and lifted out the white furred baby. He held the baby up and looked him over. The child kicked with delight. His hands and feet were human, but covered mostly with fine short fur.

Victor pulled open the baby’s diaper, “He’s a boy.”

            The baby’s face was distinctly a cat face. His ears were on top of his head with small tufts of fur at the tips. Victor noticed that fur on the sides of his face was long and hung down almost to his shoulders in two pointed tufts. Victor’s grain, a brain implant, recognized this fur type to be bobcat or lynx. But, in spite of the baby’s cat-like appearance, he displayed distinctly human characteristics. His eyes were human, with round pupils in the middle of two bright green irises. His smile was human.

            “Well, look at you,” Victor said as he gathered the baby into his arms and tickled his belly. The baby smiled and studied Victor’s face. “Did bad ol’ Dr. Mellonini make you?”

            The nurse robot then held out its arm to Victor and handed him a note. It was hastily handwritten. Victor took the note and read, “His name is Scoom he needs a family”. He studied the note and called upon his grain to identify the handwriting. “It’s Mellonini’s handwriting—we must have gotten close.” Victor then tickled the baby again, “Okay, we’re coming out.” Victor radioed to the outside world…

 

(Stopped chapter preview at excerpt limit of 2000 words.  Thanks for previewing The Proving)

You may purchase The Proving at Amazon.

Discovery Showcase Information

Here are the upcoming Discovery Showcases, in the order in which they may appear:

• Tamar Black - Djinnx'd
• Prophecy of Hope
• The Heroes of Nightingale

If you want to have the first chapter of your unpublished or self-published novel featured at Fantasy Debut as a Discovery Showcase, please read how to do so here.

(If I run out of works to showcase, I may just put up one of my own unpublished novels!)

By the way, if you haven't already voted in my poll concerning the future of these Discovery Showcases, please do so! You'll find it in the upper left corner.

As always, constructive comments are welcome and encouraged!

Debut Author Index - June, 2007

I decided to start indexing my authors. Right now, I'm starting at the beginning and I'll go month by month. Eventually, I'll go through all of these posts and arrange them in a way that makes more sense (like alphabetical). But I've got to start somewhere, so here it goes.

The author links are to every post I tagged with the author's name, or to my early attempts at debut showcases. Links to novel titles go either to multiple as-I-read-it reviews, or a single review. I didn't do debut showcases when I started, so some authors only have links to the author names. (There was no point in linking to the same place twice.)

Durham, David Anthony - Acacia: The War with the Mein, The Other Lands
Estep, Jennifer - Karma Girl, Hot Mama, Jinx
Gee, Emily - Thief with no Shadow, The Laurentine Spy
Grossman, Austin - Soon I Will be Invincible
Hammond, Warren - KOP, Ex-KOP
Landon, Kristin - The Hidden Worlds, The Cold Minds, The Dark Reaches
Shearin, Lisa - Magic Lost, Trouble Found; Armed and Magical, The Trouble with Demons
Marr, Melissa - Wicked Lovely (1st chapter), Ink Exchange, Fragile Eternity
Robins, Lane - Maledicte, Kings and Assassins, Sins and Shadows (as Lyn Benedict)
Taylor, Richard - The Haunting of Cambria (1st chapter)
Weldon, Phaedra - Wraith, Spectre, Phantasm

It's kind of amusing to see how I did things way back then.