Longship Publications

Writing is like learning a trade

2014-11-23T16:56:00.002-08:00

Writing is like learning a trade

Over the years I have found writing is like learning a trade. When I was an apprentice mechanic I remember staring into the workings of a stripped down gearbox and thinking, how am I ever going to learn how that works?

Writing as it turns out is very similar to fixing cars. It is so much more about repetition and by doing the work learning the tricks of the trade. You can read as many car manuals as you can but there is no better experience than getting your hands dirty and doing the practical work.

It’s the same with writing. You can read as many books as you like on how to write but until you sit down in a quiet room and record your ideas in words you will never progress. Failure in writing is just learning. A first draft will never ever be as good as the final rewritten and polished manuscript. And you will never get a final polished manuscript until you have started your novel and finished your first draft.

The saying, ‘Your worst work will always be better than the best work you never did.’ is applicable to writing. The book you have written in your head is a waste of space in your brain if you don’t write it.

My publisher Christine edits my work and she can be quite critical. Taking criticism is how you learn to write. This works for me because readers of books are in my opinion more intelligent than your average non-reader. A reader will find your mistakes, your bad grammar, holes in your plot, the weakness of your characters.

No book is perfect; almost every novel will have the odd typo or a ‘the’ instead of ‘there’ but I try to have the finished manuscript as near to correct as humanly possible.

I had only two years in high school, so writing has been a long and difficult road. Fortunately I have received support from my wife Jackie and my family who are not afraid to critique my work.

Christine has also inspired me to keep writing when sometimes I doubted I could do it.

My books may never be bestsellers but that is not why I write. I enjoy the challenge: from starting from a clean sheet of paper to holding a published book in my hand. It is the same sort of thrill I enjoyed from breaking in a wild colt and turning him into a well-mannered racehorse.

I hope you enjoy reading Seeking Angel my NYC serial murder mystery in Kiwi Liaison.

Here are links to Comedy Candy and The Secret Empire on Amazon.

Here is a link to my books on Google Play Comedy Candy and The Secret Empire.

NZ Paranormal Comedy The Hoodle will be published very soon

A J Burton.

Werewolf Confessions Christmas Comedy Launch Preview

2013-12-03T17:21:00.000-08:00

'Werewolf Confessions'

Here is a sneak peek into the paranormal comedy novel AJ Burton has been writing for the past 18 months.

We aim to launch Werewolf Confessions for Christmas to give you some true Christmas Cheeriness.

We hope you enjoy reading it half as much as we have enjoyed writing and editing it.

NB this work is sprinkled with malapropisms and is in NZ English.

Werewolf: A confession

Sometime after midnight tonight, I need to grow a pair. I must become a Gladiator, a Jedi Knight and Batman, all rolled into one. The Lycanthrope we face is immortal or even older and he is cunning, immensely strong and so, so deadly.

My name is Jake Fangle and I’m twenty three years old. Somewhere inside me there lurks a hero. Maybe he could cease lurking for just one night. This night!

The only glimmer of hope is that I too am a lycanthrope, of sorts. Sounds like some sort of parasitic tapeworm, doesn’t it? According to folklore, it is the correct terminology for a werewolf.

I swear upon my mother’s gin soaked corpse this story is completely true. Sorry mum, I didn’t really mean that. Guess there are some residual feelings which I haven’t dealt with yet.

This brief account is a confession of my failings, so you will understand what I have gone through and won’t judge me too harshly whatever the outcome. So here we go; I’ll try to be honest. There is no point in lying about where this all took place, except about the country, the town and the people in it. Remember this is the whole truth and nothing but the truth, except for the parts which are a complete and utter fabrication.

I’m no writer, I’ll get things in the wrong order sometimes; say the wrong word, put it in the wrong context. This syndrome is real and is referred to as a malapropism or bushism so it’s not all my fault. If you are a grammar nazi now is the time to put down your marker pen, take off your jackboots and learn that even those of us with the grammar retard gene have a right to tell our stories.

My mother didn’t trust the New Zealand Education Department so she home schooled her only child. No blackboard and chalk for me, instead she put her faith in a bottle of gin and a carpet slipper. Sometimes mum rang the school bell for assembly at three in the morning. Try to remember your fourteen times tables then, I dare you! Many a lesson ended in a thump as mum hit the floor after a few lunch break gins. So I’m afraid my education is somewhat lacking.

Mum left me the house when she died, so I do okay. I’m single so I don’t need to earn much to make ends meet. I never knew my father. According to my mother he was a lazy, thick-headed arsehole; hopeless with money and he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. I wonder under what circumstances they managed to conceive me.

But to get back to the present, the last 28 days have dictated that tonight my friends and I stand and fight. My survival depends on confronting and vanquishing a beast who intends to devour me. The werewolf will never give up until I am deceased or even dead.

Thank goodness I won’t have to face The Dog No One Ever Speaks About alone. But what chance do two cowardly dogs, a brave but clumsy idiot, the WWWC, and a Hu-oodle have to destroy a real Lycanthrope?

Unless we can kill this hideous beast there is no hope for us. One by one he will track us down, each of our deaths too horrible to contemplate. My friends are precious to me and I don’t want any of them to die. Sometimes to my shame, I thought if the idiot got it, I could live with that. But even after all his screw-ups and systematic destruction of my home I wouldn’t wish that on him.

Should I fail, I shall be torn apart, ripped to pieces, eaten and once you are dead brother, life ain’t worth living. In the unlikely event I should be the victor I’ll become the local werewolf, so I must keep the real location of where this is all happening a secret. My home town could be a sleepy village in Hertfordshire, England, or an out the way town in the mid-west of the America’s or in the village of Sanyo in Japan. Or maybe it’s a country town called Wekawaka in the Wairarapa district of New Zealand.

Wekawaka is situated off State Highway Two but it also could be off Route 66 in California or the M1 motorway in England, or even the Hitachi yellow brick road in Japan.

It is a sleepy town with street lighting and shady trees lining the sidewalks. Generally everyone knows everyone else and their business. Think of Wekawaka as your everyday imaginary country town.

Wekawaka’s only distinction is that with alarming regularity tourists and trampers disappear in the rugged bush covered hills beyond the town. The rumour was that there was a sort of Bermuda Triangle effect going on and the local constable always seemed to be looking for someone. It didn’t bother us locals much; if the dopey tourists were too stupid to use a local guide that was their problem.

One out of towner, an Australian no less, once said.

“If New Zealand was a constipated person you would insert the enema hose up the main street of Wekawaka to give him relief.” It’s a pity he never went missing.

We have a post office, a main street with hardware store, supermarket, garages, assorted small shops, cafes and two burger bars, one at either end of the town. There is one police constable, or sheriff, or ninja, or whatever they call cops in Japan but I shall refer to him as Constable Knowsley.

Knowsley considers himself a talented super-cop with a one hundred percent clearance of burglaries. Knowsley’s crime busting abilities must be taken with a grain of salt. We only had two burglaries in town last year, and criminal offender turned out to be the constable’s twelve year old son Sheldon.

Whenever our policeman spoke to you it was usually to ask “Have you seen this person?” and you would be shown a picture of a tourist standing smiling beside a hired camper van. Funny thing was he never seemed to find any of the missing persons, not that we heard about anyway. Once you disappear in the Wekawaka triangle you never return.

Ken Wilson my neighbour across the street was a keen tramper. He was middle aged and owned a miniature poodle. Yancy-boy was his name, I used to tease him and called him Nancy-boy, but he never got the joke. Why Ken would want a tramping companion who was no bigger than an obese albino rat, totally escapes me. He certainly wouldn’t have been much use as a hunting dog and was about as scary as a brightly coloured tea-cosy.

Suppose he was kind of cute, he’d see you coming and yap around your heels like a wind up squeaky toy. Yancy-boy must have done something real bad last month on that fateful full moon night.

Five Star review - The Secret Empire

2013-10-02T16:10:00.005-07:00

From Jane Hamann... "I read your book. I loved it. The Secret Empire is a rollicking royal page turning read. Challenging sea battles, acid adversaries and tender heroic characters fill this epic story with humour and vitality. An archipelago brought to life. A J Burton and Christine Leov Lealand are talented authors to watch - I predict they are set to take the literary world by storm.
Looking forward to the next book."

Non Digital Review of The Secret Empire

2013-08-02T01:28:00.000-07:00

A review on real paper from our neighbour who had never read a book like our Steam Punk novel before. Thank You Cynthia
This review is for the Createspace version available in print HERE
We enjoyed writing it and we are having fun working on Escape from The Secret Empire - part two in the series.

Published: The Secret Empire

2012-09-10T03:52:00.003-07:00

A fast-moving gripping tale of romance and adventure in the Steam Punk Empire of Atlantea.

Reviews: "Excellent. A real page-turner and very interesting historical/fantasy perspective. Really enjoyed it and highly recommended." Denise Dalziel on Smashwords.

“Thoroughly enjoyable” Colleen Pearson.

Buy TSE on Smashwords in every format incl Kindle

Buy at Amazon

The Secret Empire - why is it secret? - Yes the people of Atlantis have good reasons to defend their archipelago from any and all foreigners.
A mysterious and scientifically advanced society lives a sequestered and pampered life in the brutal bronze age on a hidden archipelago of islands in the central Mediterranean Sea.
Atlantea is a xenophobic Steam Punk empire, where science rules and steam and electricity are in ascendance. Their navy are equipped with steamships and cannon, charged to protect the technology and racial purity of their empire with homicidal ferocity.
Klaus Meinbach is one of their proudest scions, captain of the battleship Hieglund and the most eligible bachelor of the fabled city of Atlantis.
A late summer storm brings the Hieglund to a foundering Greek merchant ship and the surviving crew are taken prisoner.
Among them is Helena of Delphi, a proud and beautiful young priestess of Apollo. She is horrified to discover they are to be enslaved or murdered by these uniformed men unless she can persuade the handsome stern captain of the ship to spare her and her crew.
When Captain Meinbach discovers that the bewitching captive foreigner may be of Atlantean blood his mind is made up. He will request the Atlantean genetic purity courts grant his petition to grant Helena citizenship.
Klaus and Helena share danger and adventures on land and at sea as they fight to save Helena's life.

Klaus is forced to make a terrible choice between duty to his country and love for his woman in the courts of Atlantis. Which will he choose?

Reviews:- “Oh.... I so love your new book. Started reading this afternoon and almost swore when a friend interrupted me. As soon as he was gone, I was back reading and didn't stop till finished. Haven't eaten tea yet. (9.30pm) Enjoyable reading. Loved the descriptiveness of everything. Gave my imagination clear views of the ship, characters, mountains etc, and I'm sure I've met the male judge before. Laughed out loud when the scheming mother was thinking of the hero, while screwing him. Your knowledge of sailing really enhanced the story for me, as well. I really enjoyed reading it. So thanks again.” Review by Jeanette Currie.

Contains mild sexual references, no cursing and little bloodshed.
Available soon as a print book from Createspace.com

Map of Atlantis 1

2012-08-24T17:17:00.002-07:00

Now published - The Secret Empire - Atlantea Discovered is now available from this link:- The Secret Empire in all formats.

Below is a draft of Christine's hand-drawn map of the main island of Atlantea, showing the Port of Atlantis and the industrial city of Reinhart.

Please comment on the map - do you like it? Is a map the kind of thing you would like to have with your ebook on your Kobo or Kindle or iPad?

A second map of the whole archipelago of Atlantea is being drawn now. Of course it includes some active volcanos and many islands.

AJ Burton and Christine are also working on book two: Escape from Atlantis -the adventures of Klaus Meinbach and Helena of Delphi as they try to elude their enemies from Atlantis.

Seeking Angel - thriller and murder mystery by AJ

2012-07-28T20:59:00.000-07:00

Seeking Angel - buy with a click

Detective Bull Protettore seeks Angel, missing; believed to be in the company of a secretive bi-sexual Dominatrix.
Discover how she is the clue which leads Bull and his partner Tommy to the serial killer who is terrorizing NYC.
Bull and Tommy are in a race against time to unravel the twisted ropes of the truth to exact justice and revenge.

'I truly enjoyed reading this book mainly because the characters weren't perfect. They all had their own little quirks and issues that made them seem so real. It actually felt like they could walk off the page and shake your hand. I would definitely recommend this book to my friends.' Amazon 5* Review

'I started to read, figuring that I'd read for about half an hour and found that I couldn't put this book down. The words come alive on the page.' Amazon 5* Review

'This was a great read! It proceeded at a good clip, had a twisty plot and an interesting cast of characters.'Amazon 5* Review

Hello everyone, above the new blurb and Front and Back covers for Seeking Angel, formerly Demon's Coven.

Thank you so much to everyone who gave feedback on the former cover, we have listened to you and this is the result.

Thanks also to Nils Danemann, our new cover designer - who has made us this awesome new cover - featuring Angel, the Spike and looking most mysterious and interesting.

Read Seeking Angel and you will enjoy a well paced read, a devious plot with lots of characters all woven together in a masterful way. Best of all your heart will be pounding and your mouth laughing at some of the antics that A J's characters get up to.

Excellent summer reading for your e reader on the beach - and a winter awaken-er for the southern hemisphere.

Chapter three... next they.... Atlantea Soulmates Secret Empire

2012-06-06T04:46:00.005-07:00

See Posts Below for Chapters 1 & 2 of our SteamPunk Adventure Romance Atlantea Soulmates

Chapter Three

It was dawn on the second day of the storm. There was a brief lull in the weather but rain clouds could be seen approaching from the stern. Helena, priestess of Apollo, stood holding on to a rail in the shelter of the high poop deck. Her ship had been driven far off course. She had made prayers to Poseidon promising a sacrifice of a goat from the sacred temple herd. Her prayers and promises seemed all in vain, but somehow the battered ship survived the night.

The exhausted, hungry and thirsty crew were repairing the sail and trying to make the ship seaworthy again. The ship was holding her own but could not take much more punishment. Helena heard the captain bellowing orders, trying to attend to several matters at once.

No one noticed a huge grey and brown Leviathan surface under the ship. With a mighty thrust the creature’s huge head pounded devastatingly into the hull below the waterline. The ship rolled suddenly to the port side; wood splintered. The crew fell and slid across the deck towards the foaming cold sea. Barrels of wine and water broke loose with the blow, rolling across the deck, crushing limbs and creating havoc.

The Leviathan turned away from the stricken vessel and dived. Gradually the ship righted herself. Water was pouring into the hull from some of the boards which had been sprung by the impact. The crewmen dropped to their knees praying to Poseidon to call off his creature of the deep. Helena raised her arms in supplication, promising chariots of gold to the sea God; her prayers desperate to assuage the rage of Poseidon’s minion. Suddenly the monster's mighty tail lifted swiftly high out of the water and smashed down on the deck of the ship. The sounds of smashing timbers and cries of agony rent the air.

The ship began to list as her hold began to take in much water. They were doomed now. Men were throwing themselves into the sea resigned to their fate. Then, as if ordered by some higher power, the huge sea creature turned away from the wreckage it had created; a mighty plume of air blew from the top of it's head then it dived into the deep.

Helena’s thoughts turned to the Lord of the Underworld, Hades and the calm voyage across the river Styx which would soon be their next voyage. An incredible apparition appeared on the horizon. It was a ship like no one had ever seen before. Instead of a mast, the ship seemed to have a tall chimney which, like a kiln, belched a black fume into the wild airs of the storm. Her huge black hull was carving through the waves with disdain, as if the storm waves were nothing.

Was this the vessel that would take them all to the afterlife? Helena wondered. Is this craft Poseidon’s personal water chariot powered by magic? Now all she could do was die with dignity. Helena went into her cabin. Perhaps there was time for her to dress in her priestess robes so she could die as befitted her status as an honored Priestess of Apollo and devotee of dolphins.

***

“Ship off the starboard quarter.” yelled a signalman. Klaus spun the view scope to that portion of the ocean. There lay a brightly coloured Greek merchant ship listing badly, the mast smashed, laying across her deck. Her crew staring incredulously at the big steel ship that bore down on them with her smokestack belching black smoke. Klaus smiled grimly, no doubt these uitlanders are thinking my ship is a work of one of their ridiculous Gods, he thought.

The first mate ordered everyone to action stations on deck. Grappling hooks were thrown and the small ship was hauled alongside the battle cruiser.

***

As the wreck settled further down in the water, wallowing as waves washed over the decks, men were running on the decks of the black ship. The surviving crew watched as the great ship pulled abreast of them; grapples were thrown and the wreck was hauled roughly alongside. Two wide ramps were lowered, black uniformed men carrying long rods with sharp knives attached ran down onto the shattered deck.

"Put your hands on your heads, you Greek scum! Move up the ramp onto the ship!" yelled one of the uniformed men. The bewildered crew were herded roughly up the ramps into the black ship. One man who resisted was picked up bodily and thrown overboard. A loud boom startled them all. A rod held by one of raiders spat fire at a sailor, he screamed and fell bloodied and dying onto the deck.

Helena was on her knees praying for a safe passage into the afterlife, when she was disturbed by a pounding on the cabin door. The wooden door was no match for the force applied to it and it splintered, crashing to the floor. Black uniformed men swarmed into the cabin. When they saw Helena standing before them they halted their headlong rush. Her eyes blazed defiance. She stood tall, daring them to make the next move. Their leader shouted in a guttural form of Helena's own language. "You will come with us now!"

Two men forced her out of the cabin. They waded through the rising sea and flotsam on the shattered deck towards the ramps. Bruised and bedraggled Helena was the last to leave the stricken vessel. As she looked up at the black ship she saw the word Hieglund emblazoned in red upon the hull in unusual violent letters. She walked forward with her head held high refusing to show any signs of the fear and terror that possessed her.

***

To Captain Meinbach’s amazement a blonde woman in white and gold robes appeared from the stern cabin, almost carried across the flooded deck of the wrecked merchantman by his marines. In a splash of sunlight which shone suddenly through the clouds her fresh white and gold robes glowed like another sun. Her long hair was a wild tumble of blonde curls down her back. He stared hard at her, then she was lost to view, herded into the hold.

She truly was a remarkable looking woman, thought Klaus. The kind of woman I have never seen the like of before. Something compassionate stirred in his soul and he stood at the rail wondering if he had seen her before. Was she an Atlantean noble woman captured by the Greeks? There was something about her...

Anything of value was appropriated from the merchant ship and then the stricken craft was cut loose. Captain Meinbach watched expressionlessly as the wreckage promptly sank, saving his gunners the job of sinking it. To stray into Atlantean waters had sealed the merchantman's fate.

Now his crew would follow the prescribed procedure for interrogation and disposal of the captives from the stricken ship. He felt little knowing that the badly injured uitlanders would be disposed of in the ship’s furnace after being interrogated. He knew that all other human-like beings were merely ciphers; sub-human lookalikes to beguile the people of Atlantea. Those young and strong enough would be kept as slaves. Their eventual fate was to serve the Empire working in the coal mines on the island of Erebos.

Atlantean humans were above the mainland scum. They were genetically advanced and pure. Their fair skin, blue eyes and dark hair set them apart from the swarthy skins of other, lesser, humans. Like all the Greeks, Phoenicians and Persians.

The Empire possessed the supreme inventions of steam and industry, including the recently discovered wonder of electricity which lit the great city of Atlantis. Captured slaves would never be permitted to return to their homelands to spread word of the great power and technology they had experienced.

Klaus decided to go and watch the interrogation for a while. It did not amuse him to see the uitlanders tortured but it was his duty. To hear their cries and prayers as the political officers pitilessly extracted information had never sat well with him. But an Atlantean naval captain was required to be present at such things. Everything which occurred on his ship was his responsibility.

Synopsis

2012-05-20T21:50:00.004-07:00

Atlantea Soulmates 1: The Secret Empire

a Steam Punk Adventure Romance

Synopsis

Klaus Meinbach is the young captain of the steam powered warship, the Heiglund. He patrols the shores of the secretive empire of Atlantea, an empire in the Mediterranean that flourished during the bronze over 5000 years ago. His mission is to keep his Empires territorial waters free from prying eyes and trading ships blown off course.

A Greek merchant ship transporting Helena a young priestess of Apollo to a royal wedding is caught in a violent storm and blown into the dangerous waters of the Empire. A strange set of circumstances throws these two unmatched people together. Helena is taken to the wondrous Steam Punk city of Atlantis her - fate in the hands of her handsome captor.

Together they endure many hardships and tribulations encountering strange beasts, pirates and the legal arm of the Department of Genetic Purity, each adventure leads them both to their inevitable quest to escape from the greatest city in the world ATLANTIS!

For general reading - all ages and interests. PG13 rating!
Think: The Golden Compass; Tarzan of the Apes; Journey to the Centre of the Earth etc

To be published soon!

By Christine Leov Lealand and A J Burton.
Click follow this blog by email so when publication day arrives you can be the first to buy a copy!

The first two chapters Atlantea Soulmates 1

2011-12-11T14:23:00.001-08:00

Atlantea Soulmates

The Secret Empire

Part one of the Soul seeking Soul Series
By A J Burton and Christine Leov Lealand

Chapter One

The bow of a brightly coloured Greek merchant ship plunged deeply into the wild seas, right up to her painted eyes, as she ran before the late summer storm. Her square sail had torn from the boom hours before, the remnants whipped to destruction in the howling wind. The helmsman together with six strong crewmen helped hold the long wooden tillers steady, as they struggled to hold their ship straight. A huge wave picked up her stern in a watery fist, flinging the ship headlong down the foaming face. To broach, and fall tumbling down through this wave would be the end of them all.

Captain Agapitos looked up; the rope shrouds were tight and creaked ominously as the wooden mast hummed in the high winds. Torrential rain lashed the deck and the terrified crew, who were already exhausted from hours of fighting the storm.

Agapitos steadied himself, as his bare feet toes white and bloodless, tried to grip the treacherous deck. He blinked his eyes, to clear the salt water lashing his face as the wind sliced the tops from the waves and drenched the ship with stinging spray.

He thought of his special passenger, a proud young priestess sheltering in the high stern cabin. Helena Delphinios might be young, but she was of high rank at the temple of Delphi and this voyage was to take her to Ortygia to celebrate the crowning of King Theron. Now her safety took second place as the captain struggled to keep his ship safe.

This storm is as fierce and violent as I have ever seen in the Mediterranean, thought Agapitos. He was a hardy sailor and master mariner but he knew he was at the mercy of this storm and had no choice but to run before it. Who knows how far from Ortygia they were now? Who cares? Survival is all that matters, he thought grimly. We must uphold our nerve and keep the ship afloat. Surely this storm cannot last forever.

A flash of lightning shredded the sky, for an instant revealing the fury of the squall. As the ship surfed down into a trough she momentarily stalled, before another giant wave lifted them skywards. Agapitos looked instinctively to the port side and saw what every sailor feared most in a storm; a foaming monster of a wave on their beam reared up out of the gloom. It was a rogue wave following its own rules, coming out of nowhere.

"Lookout! turn to port!" screamed Agapitos trying to shout above the howling wind. His words had no effect, as the helmsman never heard him. Thoughts and words failed the captain. All he could do was watch slack jawed, terrified as the green wall of water surged down towards his ship.

The rogue wave caught them beam on and the ship slid sickeningly sideways as the wave broke over her. A huge amount of water poured over the decks, taking all before it. There were screams as the men holding the tillers were tossed aside as the tiller beams swung violently to starboard forced by the weight of water on the steering oars. Some of the crew ran to give assistance as a second huge wave swamped the boat. Some of the port sweeps, extended as storm stabilizers, were shattered by the force of the ocean. Cries of distress came from the rowers who were struck by the oars as they broke. Now his ship wallowed sluggishly in the water, Agapitos held onto a rope line as the second wall of water drained from the deck. Now our lives are in the hands of the Gods, and Poseidon God of the Sea does not appear to be in a forgiving or merciful mood today, he thought. He looked above him as another wave crested then crashed over the ship. He closed his eyes and held onto the rope line with both hands and cursed the Gods.

Chapter Two

Captain Klaus Meinbach sat at an ornate military desk in his cabin attending to the ship’s log. He dipped a metal tipped quill in a small bottle of ink hung on complex brass gimbals and wrote in a precise elegant script: ‘The 3rd day New Spring, 812, 0800 hrs I am maintaining standard patrol. Easterly course 70 leagues from the coast of Atlantea and abreast of home port Atlantis. No sightings of pirates or uitlander trading ships. A tempest is approaching from the East. I have ordered the crew to keep a weather eye out, as storms often blow the uitlander ships closer to our shores.’ He signed it with a flourish Captain Klaus Meinbach, battle cruiser, Hieglund. There was a knock at his cabin door.

“Come in,” he said, blotting his entry. Navigator Vielung, his second in command entered, he was a small man whose regulation sword seemed too long for him. “Permission to secure for rough weather Captain,” Vielung said.

“Permission granted. Steer North East, we don’t want to take this sea beam on. Have the boiler room coal bunkers filled. The crew won’t be able to replenish them once it gets rough.”

“Yes sir! I’ll order all lamps switched on and the gun ports closed.” affirmed Vielung.

“Very good Vielung, carry on, I will attend the bridge shortly.”

Vielung shut the door leaving the captain to continue his paperwork. Klaus sighed, continuing to fulfill the meticulous administrative requirements set by the Atlantean Navy. Battle cruiser Hieglund’s bow lifted slightly and Klaus felt the shudder as his ship ploughed through a set of smaller swells ahead of the storm front. The feel of the ship moving under him, the increasing throb of the engines vibrating through the hull made the captain lift his head. Klaus felt his ship speak to him as a rider feels his mount. Every noise, every creak and groan had a meaning and a reason for being. He could close his eyes and see the helmsman making small corrections then feel the change transmitted through the hull. His eyes returned to his paperwork; his hand picked up his quill again. He continued writing but part of his mind lingered still with his ship. The storm was moving fast, but he had faith in his crew and the speed with which they would make the ship secure for foul weather.

The Hieglund was 5000 tons of riveted steel hull and hardwood decks. She was the strongest of the coastal patrol fleet, sleek and elegant. Many times larger than the crude wooden uitlander vessels that strayed into Atlantean waters. With ten rifled cannon arrayed on her gun deck, she could easily defeat any craft which the uitlanders could bring to bear against them. Indeed a fleet of their oar and sail propelled vessels would be no match for her firepower. The steam dreadnaught was one of the reasons the Atlantean people were protective of their waters and technology. They needed to be.

The primitive races were treacherous and constantly warring with each other. Should they attain Atlantean weaponry they wouldn’t hesitate to use the armamants against his people. Klaus knew this; every citizen knew this. By keeping their race pure the archipelago that made up the Atlantean Empire had become prosperous and all powerful.

Klaus put his pen in the holder, placed his correspondence in a wooden tray. It was good to stand and feel the gently rolling deck under his feet. Carefully he put on his charcoal naval uniform jacket trimmed with silver braid and buttons. His captain’s rank marked by additional blue trim and three red pips. Then he donned his silver braided stiff black cap, buckled on his sword and put a brace of pistols in his holsters. Now the captain of the Hieglund was ready for action. As he climbed up to the bridge deck, the sound of ringing bells made marines and sailors scramble to their heavy weather stations. His men saluted as their captain strode past them seeming oblivious to their presence; but they knew their Captain missed nothing. Klaus felt proud of his crew; they were the best trained, most loyal crew in the Atlantean fleet.

He entered the pilothouse, noting the helmsmen held her great wooden spoked wheels steady on the new course, and all hands were at their stations. The first mate saluted, “ship is battened down and ready for heavy weather, Captain.”

“Very good, carry on.” said Klaus returning the salute. The Atlantean navy insisted on correct protocol at all times. A ship of the line had never lost or retreated from a naval engagement in Atlantea’s eight hundred year history and all ratings from cabin boys to the Captain himself knew failure was never tolerated by their masters ashore. In this way the navy kept the secrets of their islands theirs and theirs alone.

Klaus replaced his cap with a metal helmet, attached to the front was a telescopic device which he pulled down in front of his right eye. He looked ahead at the dark clouds and rain sheets of the approaching storm. Large cresting waves preceded the rough weather; it would be a long day. He watched as a new set of large waves rolled towards the ship. Her high prow and broad shoulders shoved the waves aside effortlessly, sending spray outwards in a huge surge. The Hieglund dipped her bow into the next wave, tons of water poured over her decks; she lifted again, her twin screws driving the battle cruiser up the face of the next swell. “Head straight into the wind.” ordered Klaus “This is a major storm. We will take it on the nose day and night if we must. Reduce to three hundred revolutions.”

“Aye sir.” said the helmsmen in unison as they held the battleship directly into the cresting seas. A huge sheet of green water came foaming up over the foredeck. The water spilled spectacularly down her sides as the water drained through the scuppers. "Nothing but an Atlantean ship will survive this storm.” remarked the first mate. “Those uitlander Greeks, Persians and Mesopotamians will all be sent to the bottom of the sea this night, mark my words.” Klaus did not respond to the first mate’s remark, but felt smug satisfaction at his ship's performance as he braced for the next wave.

Atlantea Soulmates

2011-12-05T01:11:00.000-08:00

The work of the eyes is done. Go now and do the heart-work on the images imprisoned within you.

- Rainer Maria Rilke

Atlantea Soulmates - we are souls seeking each other through lives led through the universe. Lives separated by time and space yet always we find each other, over and over.

The soulmates series tells some of these stories... of lovers seeking and finding their long long lost and found loves. Interspersed with lots of adventure, pirates, inventions and dangerous wild beasts.

Book One Atlantea Soulmates will be published in 2012.