Heather Long | Shelf Wars: Science Fiction and Fantasy Strike Back

My husband and I share similar tastes in books. Granted, he likes some authors that I just can't get into and vice versa. But our last few trips to the bookstore haven't been fruitful for him. Why? Because the plethora of urban fantasy and paranormal romance seem to have staged a coup on the science fiction and fantasy shelves of the bookstore.

This is not to slight these wonderful books, not at all. For I am a huge fan not only of reading them, but of writing them. But my husband is floundering his way through the section looking for some solid science fiction in the flavor of David Weber's original Honor Harrington book: On Basilisk Station or Peter F. Hamilton's universe spanning Reality Dysfunction.

For pure fantasy, he's still enjoying Jim Butcher's Codex Alera series (which I have to confess, I haven't started reading yet!) I love Jim's Dresden books and my husband does too, but I've not been as into the high fantasy in a while. Luckily, I have the whole series on the shelf so far, so when I do get to reading it, I will have it.

So, here is my dilemma. Finding the kind of books my husband is so desperately searching for. His birthday is next month and our anniversary is at the beginning of October. As mentioned, we're heading to Disney World (yes, we love the fantasy of that) for vacation in just three short weeks (I cannot wait!) and I want to surprise him with some good books for him to read.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to recommend some solid fantasy and/or science fiction books that my husband might enjoy. You have to avoid Arthurian or Star Trek or Star Wars. He does like the Doctor Who novels, but I think we're only up to the Martha books so far and The Story of Martha is high on my list of books to buy.

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Eva Gordon | STONE OF THE TENTH REALM

Hello Fresh Fiction,

I have written five full-length novels, three fantasy novels, The Stone of the Tenth Realm, Gaea's Keeper and the sequel to The Stone of the Tenth Realm, Alchemist of the Tenth Realm, a science fiction titled Post-Apocalyptic Genome, and Werewolf Sanctuary, a paranormal romance in my Wolf Maiden Chronicles. The Stone of the Tenth Realm is my first published novel. My second romance fantasy, Gaea’s Keeper is due out next summer.

I have a BS in Zoology and graduate studies in Biology. I have taught Biology, Environmental Science and Anatomy/Physiology in both public and private high schools. My background in science and passion for wildlife biology inspires my writings. I moonlight as a faculty member of the Grey School of Wizardry, an online school for kids and adults interested in magic and lore. I am in the departments of Beast Mastery.

I am passionate about wildlife and the environment. I combined my love of animals and writing by being a guest speaker for the Silicon Valley Romance Writers last summer. My topic was on Wolves and Ravens as Archetypes in Science Fiction and Fantasy Writing. I also teach at The Grey School of Wizardry in the Department of Beast Mastery. I have also taught about animals in fiction workshops for the Hearts Through History Romance Group. I spend several weeks last summer doing volunteer work at a wolf sanctuary in Southern Oregon. All my life I have trained and worked with dogs and horses. I hope to soon pursue the ancient art of falconry

The Stone of the Tenth Realm


By Eva Gordon

Blurb

Sophie Katz, a Jew, escapes a Nazi concentration camp. By way of Prague and with the help of a golem and the Kabbalah she is transported into the 10th Realm, a magical dimension that parallels the world she left behind. Logan Macleod, a man hunted unjustly for a murder, runs to the Bestiary, a forest so dangerous no man dares enter. Drawn by his bagpipes, Sophie and Logan meet. As love ensues, the Tenth Realm's evil parallels the Third Reich's atrocities. Together they must join the armies fighting Gustaf Hissler, Adolph Hitler's doppelganger. Will they survive?

Please visit me on my website

www.ravenauthor.com/ or on my blogs (I have a fan group on Facebook)

evagordon.blogspot.com/

EveGordonPage

Eve Gordon

Yasmine Galenorn | Things That Go Bump In The Night & Other Delights

From the time I was a little girl, I was terrified of the house I grew up in because I knew it was haunted—by what I couldn’t say, but a malign energy tainted that house. It didn’t help matters that I’ve always been somewhat psychic. I could always sense whatever was there watching me. To this day, that house shows up in my nightmares and in my nightmares, it’s usually filled with tens of thousands of spiders (I’m arachophobic) and I wake up screaming. Granted, I had a lot of serious baggage to deal with in childhood, but the house stands out in my mind as the ‘haunted house on the hill’ even though it was smack in the middle of a lower-class suburb.

Scared of the house or not, that didn’t detour me from falling in love in love with the paranormal, and from becoming a total fantasy/SF freak. When I was five years old, I stumbled over Dark Shadows and went nuts over it. I’m not certain why my mother let me watch a vampire soap opera but wouldn’t let me watch ‘the man with the funny ears’ (Spock, on Star Trek, which started the same year). I have a feeling she didn’t fully realize that Dark Shadows was about a vampire.

But before ST:TOS was over, I was watching Kirk, Spock, and my favorite—Uhura, take on the denizens of deep space. And every Saturday, I settled down in front of the TV for the Science Fiction Double Creature Feature, immersing myself in Godzilla, The Day the Earth Stood Still, War of the Worlds (and no, we’re not talking Tom Cruise’s version, we’re talking the real thing here!), The Valley of Gwangi, The Creature from the Black Lagoon—all those incredibly riveting old movies that I still love today. In fact, just last night I hauled out the DVD of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

I knew I wanted to be a writer from the time I was three and had been making up odd little stories from the day I could string sentences together. I learned to read early and my loves ran to volcanoes, dinosaurs, and…would you believe it? Yep! Fantasy and science fiction. The Space Cat series by Ruthven Todd was one of my first discoveries—I just loved that adventuresome astronaut cat. And thanks to a non-restrictive policy allowing children to check out books from any section of the library, I sped through the fantasy and science fiction section. I ploughed through Asimov, Clarke, Pohl, and my favorite to this day—Ray Bradbury. I cut my teeth on The City and the Stars, I fell in love with Something Wicked This Way Comes and The October Country. By the time I was ten I knew that I didn’t care all that much for Heinlein, but I was nuts over Clifford D. Simak.

As time went on and I left home, I discovered Anne McCaffrey, Marion Zimmer Bradley, JRR Tolkien, Jack Chalker, Joan D. Vinge. And later on—Ben Bova, and Greg Bear, among others. I added them to the growing list of writers I admired, but I also began to branch out in my reading, moving into other areas. But my love for F/SF never diminished, nor did my determination to make it as a writer in that genre.

Fast forward to my first book contract. In 1996, with seven novels hiding in my closet (and trust me, they’re still there), I received my first contract. Not for fantasy—or SF—but for a nonfiction book. Of course, the nonfiction was connected to my love for the paranormal. It was a book of guided meditations. But I didn’t care—I was ecstatic I’d finally gotten my foot in the door. Soon, I thought—soon I’ll find a home for my fantasy.

Eight nonfiction metaphysical books later, I landed an agent and she found a home for my eighth novel—a paranormal mystery, of all things. Now, I’d never planned on writing a mystery but that’s what the book turned out to be. So I wrote two mystery series for awhile, thrilled to be telling stories again instead of writing nonfiction, but still wanting to break into my favorite genre. In specific, urban fantasy.

And then, a few years ago, I sent in a new proposal. My editor loved it and my agent negotiated a contract for me for a third series—this one urban fantasy/paranormal romance. And so my bestselling Otherworld Series (aka Sisters of the Moon Series) was born. And I finally felt like I was ‘home.’

Now, as I’m starting work on the seventh book of that series—Bone Magic—the fourth one is about to hit the shelves. Dragon Wytch will be out on July 1st, and it’s my twentieth published book! Best yet, I’m still head-over-heels in love with writing this series. I’ve finally found an outlet for my wild, over-the-top imagination. And my readers seem to agree: what I knew when I was three years old—that I needed to write fantastical stories—was right on target.

So tell me, what’s your favorite genre? What do you love to write and/or read? Has it changed since you were a child, or have you had a lifelong favorite?



You can contact me through my website, MySpace, or Live Journal.
Keep watching the skies!

Yasmine Galenorn

Matthew Peterson | Life after Harry Potter

I’ve been talking on the radio all morning long about my new young adult novel, Paraworld Zero... literally. 18 radio interviews, back-to-back. Just about all of the interviewers had one question in common, so I’ll address that topic, which is... drum roll, please. Now that Harry Potter is over (and even that is questionable) how do we get young adults to keep reading?

Being a father of five boys–all of whom enjoy fighting with light sabers on a daily basis–I have my work cut out for me. After watching my book’s video trailer on my website (http://www.paraworlds.com/) a dozen times yesterday, my oldest son said he couldn’t wait for me to put the rest of my book into a movie, so that he wouldn’t have to read it. He’s only eight-years old, so it’s understandable that he’s not into reading just quite yet, but his comment made me realize that I’m going to have to work harder at helping him to enjoy reading.

The first step is to understand your child’s interests. I have boys who can’t get enough fantasy and science fiction in their lives. They breath it in like air. So I naturally need to pick some shorter books that they might enjoy. At that young age the cover matters a lot to them. One thing I can do is to read to them. The time reading with a parent will be priceless and they will equate reading as a good thing, because that’s a time “I get to spend with daddy or mommy.”

When they become teenagers, I’ll need to monitor what they read more closely and keep reinforcing good books. That means I’ll need to read reviews, skim through the young adult section of the library or bookstore, and talk to other parents about what their teenagers like to read. Books like Harry Potter will come and go, but the love for reading is something I want to instill in my boys so that they’re always waiting for that next book to read. And who knows? Perhaps it’ll be my next book they’ll be waiting for.

Visit my website http://www.paraworlds.com/ to read/listen to sample chapters and perhaps order your own copy of Paraworld Zero.

Here's a link to the Paraworld Zero book trailer.



Matthew Peterson

Linnea Sinclair - THIS IS MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME…

Trick or Treat! I’m disguised as a blogger today. Usually I look like a science fiction romance author, which means I look a lot like a middle-aged woman in rimless glasses, cropped sweatpants, a ratty pink t-shirt emblazoned with MY NAME’S NO, NO BAD CAPTAIN, WHAT’S YOURS?, and lime green Crocs. But today, in honor of Halloween, I’m disguised as a blogger. Meaning I’ve switched out the lime green Crocs for my fuchsia pink ones in the Mary Jane style.

As you can probably surmise, there’s not a whole lot of difference in the costume. Nor the author. You see, for most people Halloween is the one day they get to dress up and be someone else. For me, every day I get to be someone else on paper (or my computer’s screen, more likely).

Authors live in a perpetual Halloween state.

Scary, no?

This past month I’ve been (mostly) Captain Chaz Bergren. She’s a gutsy gal, late thirties, dealing with being court-martialed for a crime she didn’t commit, and dealing with the love of her life being someone—and something—she never expected. She’s making a return appearance in my 2008 release from Bantam, SHADES OF DARK. Those of you who’ve read GABRIEL’S GHOST (my 2006 RITA award winner) met her and Sully as they sliced through the neverwhen in stolen starships. Chaz and Sully are back with a vengeance. So are the bad guys.

When I’m Chaz, I’m wearing soft but solid work boots (the kind that you can run down starship corridors wearing without falling flat on your face. Hence, no heels). Black fatigue pants (need those pockets) and a dark green pullover shirt. Enviro on a ship can be spotty. Space is cold. Forget those skimpy, off-the-shoulder outfits you see on television space shows. You need something comfortable, something you can work in and sleep in, if necessary.

But because I have a book coming out November 27th (Blatant Self Promotion! Check out The Down Home Zombie Blues!) I occasionally have to doff Chaz and become Commander Jorie Mikkalah. She has her own wardrobe and her own set of problems.

For one thing, she’s stuck here on Earth. Florida, actually. Not so oddly, that’s exactly where I am: Florida. So Jorie’s a little less concerned about starship enviro systems (what you and I might call air-conditioning or central heat) and a lot more concerned about blending in with the local nil-techs. Nils, she calls us for short. See, we’re a bit behind her civilization. More than a few centuries behind. Jorie would give anything for a four-seater gravripper in which to zip around our planet. She’s stuck with an aging Ford SUV that couldn’t hit hyperspace speeds if her life depended on it.

Unfortunately for Jorie, it does.

So the costume I don when being Jorie is not just her outfit, complete with technosleeve and attendant gizmos, but her attitude. She’s tough, capable, competent—and totally lost.

Jorie took the book, tapped on her wristbeam, and scanned the first few pages. It would be too much to ask, she supposed, that the entire universe be civilized enough—and considerate enough—to speak Alarsh. "Operating instructions for the vehicle’s pilot." As the engine chugged quietly, she found a page depicting the gauges and read in silence for a few moments. "I think I have the basics." She tapped off her wristbeam, then caught Trenat’s smile in the rectangular mirror over her head. "Never met a ship I couldn’t fly, Ensign. That’s what six years in the marines will teach you.”

The vehicle’s control stick was between the two front seats. She depressed the small button, eased it until it clicked once.

The vehicle lurched backwards, crashing into one parked behind it.

"Damn!” She shoved the stick again and missed a head-on impact with another parked vehicle only because she grabbed the wheel and yanked it to the left.

Herryck bounced against the door. "Sir!"

"I have it, I have it. It’s okay." Damn, damn. Give her a nice antigrav hopper any day.

Her feet played with the two pedals, the vehicle seesawing as it jerked toward the open gate.

"I think," Herryck said, bracing herself with her right hand against the front control panel, "those are some kind of throttle and braking system. Sir."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I know that. I’m just trying to determine their sensitivity ranges."

"Of course, sir." Herryck’s head jerked back and forth, but whether she was nodding or reacting to the vehicle’s movement, Jorie didn’t know. "Good idea."

By the time they exited onto the street, Jorie felt she had the nil-tech land vehicle under control. "Which direction?"

"We need to take a heading of 240.8, sir." Herryck glanced from her scanner over at the gauges in front of Jorie, none of which functioned as guidance or directional. "Oh." She pulled her palm off the control panel and pointed out the window. "That way."

Fortunately, she has Theo to help her. Florida homicide detective Theo Petrakos. Which meant when writing ZOMBIE, I got to dress up as a cop, too.

Theo pushed the traffic gates shut, then set the Park Closed sign in place. Jorie had told him to go home once the park was clear. But he was not going home until this batch of zombies was dead and that PMaT thing was spewing Rordan’s unworthy molecules all the way back up to the ship.

He turned the lumbering vehicle back toward the ball field, parked it just behind the row of low bleachers, and got out. Jorie trotted toward him, frowning. He leaned on the front of his SUV, arms folded across his tac vest.

"I’m staying."

She glared at him. He glared back. When she flung her arms wide in exasperation and let out a now familiar sounding string of Alarsh curses, he knew he’d succeeded. A mixture of elation and relief washed over him.

Which ended a split second later when a discordant wail erupted from the scanner in Jorie’s hand—and echoed out of one dangling off Tammy Herryck’s hip.

Jorie favored him with one last hard glare—partially obscured by her eyepiece—as if to let Theo know he was now edging his way to the top of her shit list, then she thrust one of her small laser pistols into his outstretched hand.

"Opticals, remember?" she asked, teeth gritted. She swung her rifle around. "And legs. Stay with me."

Opticals. Eyes. And legs. And writhing energyworms and long, flailing, razor-sharp extenders. He sprinted after her to where red-haired Tammy stood, rifle in one hand, scanner in the other, then stopped. Both women’s heads were bent over their scanners but, damn it, no one was looking around. Someone should be. He remembered the green glowing circle, the thing oozing out—impossibly—from its center. He turned, squinting through his sunglasses into the late afternoon light.

Something slammed him from behind, crushing him to the ground. Grass, dirt, and gravel were pushed into his face, and he heard his sunglasses crack. Then, with sickening clarity, Theo realized he could no longer breathe.

Okay, so maybe sometimes that particular costume is a bit scary. But that’s all part of the fun, isn’t it? Something that makes your heart race a little faster. Something that makes your palms a bit sweaty. Even though you know the set-up is a romance. There will be that promised HEA: Happily Ever After. That’s the sweet treat. The extra-crispy dark chocolate crunch bar—a big one—you find when you get to the bottom of your Halloween bag. The one you really savor.

Then you put on your Halloween costume—oops! I mean start writing another character, and go back on the streets (or chapters) for more.

Trick or Treat!

And my latest treat: a 4-1/2 star, Top Pick review from Romantic Times BOOK reviews magazine for THE DOWN HOME ZOMBIE BLUES:

Quirky, offbeat and packed with gritty action, this blistering novel explodes out of the gate and never looks back. Counting on Sinclair to provide top-notch science fiction elaborately spiced with romance and adventure is a given, but she really aces this one! A must-read, by an author who never disappoints.

Now that’s even better than chocolate.

~Linnea

http://www.linneasinclair.com/