Tremendous Universe

THE END with Hydra M Star

Community Admin — Sat, 11 Feb 2012 00:15:39 +0000

If you could believe any of the hubbub that's been going around over the past few years, humanity's demise is fast approaching. In fact, it's coming this very year. The only question we're left to ask is: will it be with a woeful whimper or a big, honking bang? Today's guest author, Hydra M. Star is a uniquely talented author, poet and artist with few ideas of her own on the subject.

"THE END" with Hydra M. Star

Rather it is an epidemic, such as in Stephen King's The Stand, or alien invaders here to rape our planet of its natural resources and leave mankind dead or dying in their wake, as in the movie Independence Day, the destruction of society and the death of humanity is a popular theme in Horror and Science Fiction. I asked myself recently, why is that? I reasoned, because the end of the world, or rather a generalized fear of the end, is the only thing we all seem to be able to agree on.

One doesn't have to study too many different "paths" to see a common religious obsession with apocalyptic threats. The Christians have the anti-Christ. The Hindu have Kali. Many in the "New Age movement" fear the coming of some, often unnamed, disaster on December 21st, 2012. Still other followers of the paranormal believe they have seen signs of real life alien invaders, bent on taking control of our planet for some nefarious purpose. Yet, as different as these beliefs on the surface may seem, all of them equal to the same thing; some magical, spiritual, or paranormal boogieman has his or her sights set on us.

All superstitious hogwash, you say? Well, even many of the purely analytical and scientific minds among us warn that one day all this, our world and our lives, will likely come to a sudden and untimely end. Instead of spiritual threats these types site asteroid impacts, massive solar flares, global warming, and epidemic as but a few of the possible ways nature or our own industrial development threatens to wipe us out. The governments of the world, in response to this, have passed countless laws and enforce all manner of regulations in order to protect us against ourselves. For what can't be regulated there are scientists busy watching the skies for Texas size asteroids and changes in the Sun's surface and corona.

Then there are the followers of conspiracy theories. These types usually fall somewhere between the religious and the scientific in their belief structure, but generally believe that the leaders of our society are actively working to bring about our destruction, or at the best are hiding important details regarding these threats from us. So, these types read books about how to survive off the land, live off the grid, and stockpile food, water, and firearms and wait. Everyone, it seems, is waiting.

All this might seem disturbing, morbid, or just plan crazy. However, what's truly disturbing is on some level these predictions are all right. The end, I fear, is just simply unavoidable. Eventually the sun will burn out. All the stars in the whole universe will eventually burn out, cool off, turn into giant ice cold lumps are carbon and life as we know it on Earth, and anywhere else it might have taken hold, will cease to exist. This will be the end to end all ends, and that fills me with a strange sense of joy I find difficult to make most people understand.

You see, only our history and this moment we are living in is guaranteed to us and one day all that we know will be lost and forgotten, with not a living soul left to remember any of it. This knowledge, for me, makes being here now, enjoying a song or a good book or even a cup of coffee, seem all that more grand. It makes our memories, our passions, our deeds of today all the more important. It inspires me to want to create something that is worthy of existing and taking up space in the here and now, because I understand whatever I write, rather I become famous and my writings out live me or not, will not exist forever. I'm just writing until the end.

Hydra M. Star recently compiled and edited an end of the world anthology titled No One Makes It Out Alive. More information about her and her other works can be found through her website.

Website: www.hydramstar.com
Hydra M. Star on Twitter
Hydra M. Star on Facebook

Post Image source: No One Makes It Out Alive book cover art by Dave Lipscomb

The "Tribute" Omnibus

Tonya R. Moore — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 01:07:12 +0000

Tribute, an omnibus consisting of five (5) short stories and ten (10) flash fiction pieces spanning the urban fantasy, horror and literary fiction genres is now available as a $2.99 Amazon Kindle ebook. The Tribute omnibus swings the pendulum from literary urban fantasy to violent, scary horror. Just for kicks, there's the teeniest bit of metaphysical cosmology thrown into the mix.

I've spent the better part of the last decade exploring and experimenting with varying aspects of the speculative fiction genres. Not so long ago, it occurred to me that the nature of my writing has changed drastically, especially over the last two or so years. What better way is there to close a chapter on one's creative life than by way of an accounting of sorts? When I tried to wrap my head around the list of works that had been previously published or posted in various places, I discovered that there were more than I'd realized. Compiling a collection (or two) of my flash fiction and short stories really started to feel like a good idea.

Tribute by Tonya R. Moore

Publisher: Amazon Digital Services
February 4, 2012
ASIN: B0075U7OSE
Average Rating: _ out of 5
BUY: TRIBUTE by Tonya R. Moore ($2.99)

Tribute is the first of two such planned collections. The second ebook SIGNAL, the Sci-Fi omnibus is tentatively scheduled for publication sometime later this month.

Love, Sexpunk and Alien Orifices

Community Admin — Sun, 05 Feb 2012 23:46:58 +0000

SciFi stretches the boundaries of the imagination. Some sub-genres push the envelope much farther in the weirdest, wildest ways conceivable. Made in DNA writes hardcore sexpunk/sexfi. He writes it very well.

Love, Sexpunk and Alien Orifices - Made in DNA

I've had a passion for science fiction from a very young age. Rocket ships, androids and mysterious, distant planets have always excited me, but it wasn't until I discovered the cyberpunk genre that I really found my niche.

Cyberpunk was wild, sexy and unexplored. It seemed as if the aliens I had sought to read about in my childhood were actually hidden within these wired men and women with their Nagel stares, blue mohawks, illegal cyberdecks, smart hovertanks.

When I started writing short fiction, I wondered what I could bring to the post-cyberpunk work that was currently on the shelves. It seemed there were some very smart people in the genre -- Cory Doctorow and Charles Stross to name just two. Just copying someone else's formula wasn't my style, so I threw away everything I knew and experimented. In that spirit, I labeled the work I was doing as 'throw-away'. In other words, if it didn't work out for either myself or the readers, I could just dump it.

Allowing myself to be heavily influenced by Japanese (and by extension, Asian) cyberpunk, anime, monster flicks, horror, transgenderism and transhumanism, I slapped together a bizarre world of pulp anti-protagonists and crazed situations. I didn't worry about whether situations were realistic; I just let the work flow.

My first short story was entitled "Media Whores" and it was a hit with Twitter readers (where it was first published). It was soaked in sex, sass, and cybernetic beings. Annalee Newitz used my Twitter feed as an example of fiction in a university class, and Internet curmudgeon and comic author Warren Ellis mentioned me on his blog. I then wrote "de Sade Assassins" a short story in a short anthology of assassin-themed eBook. Along with my novella Bukkake Brawl (http://amzn.to/madeindna), it is by far, one of my bestselling works on Amazon.

Now I stand poised to publish my own tri-annual eMagazine of science fiction and hardcore sex -- Full-Metal Orgasm (http://sexpunk.tumblr.com). The first issue (due out April 1, 2012), and I'm working on the second issue. It's a work I am proud of because it embraces, sex -- everything from anal-loving to tentacle-savagery, drugs, love, war, violence, sexuality, humanity, consciousness, and beyond. In other words, it's a wild romp across space and time with plenty of shared body fluids.

I hope you'll take the time to check out Full-Metal Orgasm's IndieGOGO campaign page (http://indiegogo.com/FMOemag) as I am working hard to raise funds for it. There's a detailed explanation of my plans for the eMagazine and how you can help me get it off the ground. Anyone reading this blog who 'pre-purchases' issue one (by making a $5.00 contribution), is entitled to a free copy of the second issue. After you have contributed, send a private comment through IndieGOGO (click my name to get my profile and a link to message) with the word "sexpunk".

Made in DNA is an American sexpunk / sex-fi author living in Japan and interested into going into the publishing business for himself with a series of cyberpunk and sci-fi anthologies with hard sexual and violent edges.

Full-Metal Orgasm | Kizuna: Fiction for Japan | @idiotandroid on Twitter | Made in DNA on Facebook

Post image source: http://www.indiegogo.com/FMOemag

Keeping Momentum

Tonya R. Moore — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 23:36:25 +0000

These days, I have the attention span of a mite. Well, maybe it's not quite as bad as that. It's a good thing I work in a field that requires constant multitasking and switching mental gears. Sticking to a dedicated task like writing a full-length short story or novel, not to mention editing either of the two is more than a bit challenging these days. It makes for very short stories and excruciatingly slow progress on anything exceeding flash fiction.

If there's one thing I've managed to learn over the past couple of years, it's that limitations to which one has to adjust aren't exactly a death sentence. I can at least look back and laugh at those days of living with the constant terror of having suddenly become quite stupid; on account of my mental abilities not being what I knew they used to be. I can still function. I can still learn. I can still write. I just can't do these things as quickly and effortlessly or on the level that I'd once taken for granted. Live and learn, they say. In this case, learn to live without despairing over that which cannot be helped.

Although enthusiasm may at times exceed capacity, the imagination is still limitless. There are stories being written, and more waiting to be written. Some of my bigger projects might end up getting condensed into novellas. Is that really such an awful thing? What matters is that at the end of the day, I'm still alive and so is the dream.

Robots, Androids and Silicants

Community Admin — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 23:15:31 +0000

Ken McConnell, today's fantastic guest author brings us Robots, Androids and Silicants in the Genre Love blog series. Ken McConnell is the author of the Sci-Fi novels - Tyrmia and Starstrikers.

Robots, Androids and Silicants - Ken McConnell

I've always been intrigued by robots and androids. There are so many popular stories with robots as central characters.

From the Tin Man to R2-D2 to Cylons, Sci-Fi in the movies and TV has been equally fascinated with them. I watch and read all kinds of stories with robots in them. They are a staple of the genre, like ray guns and time travel.

Sometimes I'll catch an episode of Lost in Space and laugh at old Robbie the Robot and his mechanical intoned voice, "Danger Will Robinson!". Other times I'll read an Asimov Robot novel and marvel at how the author bends his own monumental Laws of Robotics. Watching an episode of the new Battlestar Galactica, I'm fascinated by the Cylon's unyielding belief in a creator that is not human.

All of those stories and more are bouncing around in my head when I set out to write about androids in my own fiction. My first short story was about robots. It was two pages long and inspired by the cantina scene in Star Wars. I thought it strange that R2 and Threepio were banned from the bar. So I wrote a story about a robotic bar that didn't allow humans. I was in 7th grade and my teacher thought that I had stolen the idea from someone else.

Decades later, I rewrote that story and named it Silicants Only. This time it was about a regular android who becomes a sentient android or Silicant in an old abandoned saloon that is run by robots. That story was not the first time I introduced robots to my Sci-Fi universe, but it was the first time I wrote about Silicants. I knew that I was going to write about androids and that some of them were going to possess sentience. So I cast about for a name for them. Something cool like the Replicants from Philip K Dick's Blade Runner. I came up with the mineral silicate from which computer chips are made. From there was born - Silicants.

Since that first short story, the Silicants have become as important to my novels as robots were to Asimov's fiction. They are deeply involved in the politics of my human led Alliance and they evolve over the course of the Star Trilogy until by the third book, they are something completely different. No longer just mechanical men, they have become their own life form.

I have many more exciting stories left to tell about my Silicants and I hope my readers continue to tune in and see what happens to them next. As for me, you can find me reading the play, RUR that I just downloaded into my Kindle. It's the first story to coin the word Robot. I just can't get enough of those plastic pals that are fun to be with.

Ken McConnell writes about androids, starships and galactic empires and can be found at his blog, ken-mcconnell.com He's hard at work on the final book of his Star Trilogy - Starveyors.

Blog - http://ken-mcconnell.com
Follow on Twitter: @KenMcConnell | Add +KenMcConnell on Google+

Black SciFi Writer

Tonya R. Moore — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 21:07:08 +0000

I am black and I write sci-fi, but I couldn't exactly be a poster girl for Black Sci-Fi. Mind you, I do believe the Black Sci-Fi trend is a noble endeavor. This is not a question of the genre's validity. These are my thoughts as to whether or not I, as a sci-fi writer who happens to be a 'person of color' has any place therein. Admiring these talented individuals doesn't mean I get to identify with them. This is a lesson I learned a long time ago.

My color has never had anything to do with whether or not I'm accepted or alienated. I don't automatically belong to the "Black Club" or afro-centric social circles, just because my skin is brown. Whether it's among black people, white people, brown people, blood relatives, loose acquaintances or work colleagues, I'm simply the weirdo who just doesn't belong.

I don't wear the color of my skin proudly like armor or a badge but it is my beautiful skin. I absolutely love it and don't much care if others don't. It's as much an intrinsic part of me as the words I put to paper, but it is only one part of me. I'm thankful to the ancestors of many nationalities and racial origins who made it possible for someone like me to exist. Some endured great suffering for the sake of it. I suspect some caused that great suffering.

This gives me a unique sort of freedom, creatively. The color of my skin may be only the part of me that you are capable of perceiving but my sci-fi is black, it's white, it's iridescent, it's brown, it's blue... you name it. My universe is bursting with vibrancy and a multitude of colors. Maybe this does make me the odd, heretic bird. I have many people, of various ethnicities and temperaments to thank for that.

Sex it Up, Dumb it Down

Tonya R. Moore — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 03:53:25 +0000

Sex and scandal sell really well. They'll probably continue to sell better than books without plots hinged on sleaze as long as people need a bit of mental escape from their humdrum daily lives. If one were to judge by what makes it out of Hollywood, we are systematically degenerating into a culture defined by cheap thrills, stupidity and unless my protagonist happens to be a scantily clad nymphomaniac with the IQ of a dodo, what I put to paper would never see the light of day. Thankfully, we're not quite there yet.

Some would suggest that I should write with the expectation that my readership will be persons of so much lower than average intelligence that using "big words" or introducing more than two characters at a time will cause their puny little brains to implode. I think not. My temples twitch every time someone complains about needing to fetch a dictionary when reading something I wrote, as if being put in a position where one has to learn the meaning of a word or two is such an awful, awful imposition. I have to use a dictionary several times a day and you don't hear me moaning about it.

Pet peeves aside, this does bring up a simple truth that we should stop to consider. Readers seem to exist in two separate categories. There are those who seek entertainment or escape and there are those who truly love the written word. The two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive but it's a good point to bear in mind when we are constantly asking what readers expect of writers. What do you think? How much does the answer really matter?

Stock Image Credit: © Ivan Josifovic | Dreamstime.com

Best Writing Software

Community Admin — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 23:46:20 +0000

Over the years, I've tried out a bunch of different writing software. Who hasn't? Instead of settling on any single application, I've somehow wound up with a handful that I utilize depending on my project type or mood. I've tried to keep that list as short as possible but there's now one more added to the indispensable tools list.

A couple of days ago, someone on Facebook shared a link to a promotional download of some writing software that I hadn't tried using before. From the screen-shots that I'd seen of ZenWriter in the past, I'd always figured it might be a pretty nifty application but with the slew of writing software that I already have on my PC, I just couldn't really ever justify the extra purchase. I've got to say, I wish I'd gotten it before.

ZenWriter features distraction free writing with adjustable text-size and background image display. I especially love being able to change the background image to whatever happens to have gotten my gears going, and being able to choose between a dark and light environment.

Evernote still tops my list as a general notepad. It works across multiple platforms and syncs to the web version and mobile devices, which makes having my cellphone or tablet with me the equivalent of carrying every single notebook that I own with me everywhere. No more transcribing! That is, unless I choose to use the audio recording feature and have to go back and listen to my spoken notes later.

yWriter is an excellent application meets the needs of most writers and lets you tackle stories/chapters one scene at a time. It was developed by Simon Hayes--an author himself--he understands just what an author needs in writing software. I love being able to construct scenes separately and the ability to re-order or move scenes from one chapter to another without any fuss.

Liquid Story Binder is the most extensively featured writing application that I own. It's great for stuff like world building and creating the perfect writing environment. This is only free for 30 days but the licensed version is not terribly expensive. I bought a copy 3 years ago, have been able to move it to all my PCs and laptops. When my PC died last year, I re-downloaded LSB to my new PC only to discover to that my license code wouldn't work. I emailed them with my info from the original purchase and within a day, they sent me a new code. Nice. Right?

Anxiety and Honesty

Tonya R. Moore — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 19:54:49 +0000

My anxiety is generalized, which means I'm constantly experiencing it in one degree or another at every waking moment and I'm not entirely sure I can rule out when I sleep. Reaching out to others causes me a great deal of just that. If it's in the course of doing my job--it's not a problem. Saying what I need to say, instead of what I probably ought to say--especially when it's for my own sake, causes me to immediately freeze up or become very... squirrely.

This year, the plan has been to work harder towards becoming a more positive, less hikikomori-esque being. I started out simply and sanely enough--building connections with follow authors, by personally inviting specific people to guest blog, requesting interviews etc. Usually I just stay in my little corner, greet people occasionally and hope that I'm not being too intrusive by doing so, etc. As expected now that things are changing there's a whole lot of silently freaking out and emotional melt-downs occurring daily but for the first time in longer than I can remember, it feels like I'm finally getting somewhere.

This sort of brings me around to the point of writing this post. Self-censoring seems to have become my knee-jerk response to everything. That's not really working out anymore, so I'll also take the leap to sharing a glimpse of my true self in this blog. That doesn't mean anything will change drastically. I'll just be posting more frequently and it at times I might not seem to be able to completely keep a lid on the crazies, although I'll try... sans the severe self-abnegation though.

I sort of had that--a more personal/opinionated kind of blogging in mind when I first started a blog titled Misadventurous. This is who am I am. I don't expect everyone to like it. I don't intend to be some wet blanket intent on beating everyone over the head with all the boring or gory details of the crap that goes on in my head but it's time to start moving on and living the best way that I can. It might not be seemly or cool but there's a human being sitting here typing these words. Dear god, I hope that's okay.

Baye McNeil Interview

Tonya R. Moore — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 01:48:47 +0000

Today's gifted guest at Misadventurous is Baye McNeil, otherwise known as Locohama. He's a blogger and author from Brooklyn, New York who currently resides in Yokohama, Japan. Baye is a great storyteller and possesses an enviable talent for engaging readers. You might not need me to tell you this. You probably already follow locoinyokahama.com. If not, you should and while you're at it, I heartily recommend that you grab a copy of his increasingly popular new book, Hi! My Name is Loco and I'm a Racist.

Baye took some time for a blog interview. He shares a bit about his aspirations and the experiences that inspired this book.

When your first started blogging about your life and experiences in Japan, did you ever envision that you'd have the kind of following/success you have today?

BAYE: Actually yes, I did. I surfed around a lot before I started blogging, mostly around the Japan blogosphere since I had planned to blog about primarily issues related to life in Japan for a foreigner, a New Yorker and a black man. I wanted to see if the issues that were motivating me to blog were already being tackled earnestly elsewhere. When I learned that they were not, I knew my blog would kind of shake shit up. However, I have to admit that I didn't expect my readership and circle of support to be Caucasian by a vast majority, that's for sure. Live and learn, Tonya. Live and learn.

What was it that prompted you to make the leap from a blog to a book?

BAYE: Well, nobody really dreams of being a blogger. LOL! When I was a kid the Internet was a GI Joe Walkie Talkie and a CB radio but books were around and I devoured them. I wrote a book about 10 years ago, and was able to land an agent and everything, but the big publishers didn't show me much love. Rejection letters piled up and undermined my flimsy confidence and I shelved that dream to a later date, This time around I decided I wouldn't wait on the Random Houses of the world to figure out a way to market a book declaring the writer was a racist--you know? I could hear that meeting in my head.

As is usually the case, the most innovative, groundbreaking and courageous work put out is released by start-ups and indies (then the big boys swoop in with their checkbooks and acquire it.) So, the blog was just my way of feeling out the market, float ideas, hone my skills and build up a name and Internet Presence so I could either A- show I had the chops to attract the big boys, or B- build an audience so I could do it myself.

Have you ever had to deal with awkward situations in your personal life as a direct result of what you've written? How did you get past that?

BAYE: Funny you should ask that, cuz I'm currently going through some drama with personal relationships, both on and offline, because I often prioritize my writing over relationships. People who have no passion have a great deal of trouble accepting that editing an essay comes before going to Disneyland or reading and commenting on other people's blogs, And sometimes this causes me a great deal of stress. Some people are able to manage and balance their lives better than I am. I suck at it, but I'm working on it. Particularly, while working on this book, I have been a piece of work and some relationships didn't survive this damn near three year process. I haven't gotten past it. I'm still working on it.

On the flip-side, have you managed to resolve tensions or forged real friendships as a direct result of what you've written and shared with your readers?

BAYE: The interactive nature of blogging has a tendency to get personal from time to time. This tendency has positive and negative aspects, like most things. But that all depends on how you get down. I write about deeply personal and often time sensitive subject matter, and my writing approach is often provocative. I don't do fluff well. I bring the noise and say some things that people either would prefer remain unsaid or said with a great deal more caution then I incorporate at times. People either love me or hate me. Both have their challenges but for the most part, it's been love. People feel like they know me and to a certain extent they do, and vice versa. How much does anyone really know anyone else anyway, you know?

Now that you've achieved the goal of becoming a published author, do you feel differently about Baye McNeil--about your capacity to achieve the things you want?

BAYE: YES! There's a certain validation that comes with that jump from blogger/dreamer to Author/publisher, and respect. Even if it's done independently as I have, it still speaks to people. It tells them that you take yourself seriously and aren't afraid to put yourself out there, especially with the kind of book I've written.

Can your fans look forward to the possibility of another book from Locohama, sometime in the future?

BAYE: Yes, I have a second book in pre-production. It's not as heavy as this book but definitely on a subject that has become near and dear to me: teaching.

I also am trying to raise funds to translate Hi! My Name is Loco... into Japanese. I think it's something that Japanese people would benefit from knowing. I think knowing the background of an individual "foreigner" living here and how some of the behavior encountered here impacts him is something that many Japanese would love to read about, and frankly need to know.

Is there anything in particular that you'd like to tell potential readers out there?

BAYE: Yes, actually. I know some of your readers might find the title of this book a bit jarring. A writer declaring his racism openly may come off as some sort of marketing scheme to get attention or as something better left unsaid, and kept in a dark closet beneath piles of stuff you've no intention of using but haven't gotten around to throwing away yet. If that is your frame of mind, then this book is for you!

This book is about how that kind of thinking is what perpetuates racism, breathes life into in it. It thrives in the dark. I'm of the mind that as long as we ignore the issue or persist in denying that it will cease to be, the stronger it will become until eventually, we're looking at yet another genocide, ethnic cleansing, hate crime, race riot, etc. on the news, while sitting around scratching our heads saying "where did all this hate come from???" You know?

Author Baye McNeil

www.locoinyokohama.com | www.himynameisloco.com
Follow on Twitter: @Locohama | Like Locohama on Facebook

Buy the Book

Hi! My Name is Loco and I'm a Racist
Amazon.com | Barnes and Noble

Latest Site Updates

Community Admin — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 22:52:40 +0000

My website has finally been completely overhauled from the ground up to tip top shape. All the inner bits and bobs have been reinstalled, debugged... you name it. Previously missing or broken mobile apps and sections have been rebuilt.

The Bibliography has finally been re-constructed. The Creative Arts Link Directory (link exchange) is back online and fully functional again.

The directory is SEO and socially optimized. Writers, editors, artists, professionals and bloggers who work or share an interest in the creative arts are welcome to list their sites.

The Jomsocial based community is no more. It's quite a bit of a time suck and frustrating to work with. Instead of wasting any more time trying to beat buggy software into submission, I'd rather focus on the blog updates and fiction that will be forthcoming from now on.

Maintaining a Joomla! based website can be frustrating and time consuming sometimes but after these latest rounds of upgrades, I've got to say I'm quite happy with the result.

Anti-SOPA Blackouts

Tonya R. Moore — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 13:56:18 +0000

True to their word Wikipedia, one of the sites that I frequent on a daily basis, has gone dark for the next 24 hours. For some, this may seem pointless and like they're preaching to the choir, but if this blackout can make even just a handful of people a tad less ignorant, the world is already a smarter place.

Yes, online piracy of intellectual property is an issue that desperately needs to be addressed but not like this.

Allowing SOPA (in its current /proposed form) to happen is about as reckless as using a WMD as a fly swatter. This all sort of reminds me how I used to get incensed every-time I popped a DVD into my player and saw that red or green page full of dire warnings of the torments that await me, should I steal the content of that media.

I'd always would think: why are you threatening ME? I bought the damned thing. What more do you want?

Would anyone stick some butcher from the Dark Ages in a modern day operating room and try to convince a neurosurgeon that trepanning is indeed, cutting-edge medical science? Who are I am kidding, right? Ordinarily, that's what one would think. It should be a joke but this is just a hint at the kind of ridiculous nightmare that begins to evolve when good intentions are eclipsed by greed and sheer ignorance.

Guest Writer at Ren's Bloggin' About

Tonya R. Moore — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 17:43:50 +0000

Ren Thompson is a fellow author and book blogger who I became acquainted with via Twitter quite some time ago. Ren is one of those cool people that I try to keep in touch with and think of as one of my online pals. I've followed Ren's blog for some time and was particularly honored when invited to Guest post. I'm today's guest writer at Ren's Bloggin' About. Please check out Do you know about Tonya Moore, Author Extraordinaire?

Read What Ren's Bloggin' About Today

Nisemonogatari

Tonya R. Moore — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 05:56:31 +0000

NisiOisin has the enviable ability to take run-of-the-mill concepts and transform them into complex, beatifically expressed stories. I first came across his work when Bakemonogatari, began as an anime series two years ago. NisiOisin's literary versatility had continued to amaze me with Katanagatari, which was aired a while after that. The same can be said now, of Nisemonogatari, the anime sequel to Bakemonogatari.

Near the end of Bakemonogatari, Koyomi Araragi's mentor Memo Oshino announces his impending departure from the young, ex-vampire's life. He leaves Araragi with the warning that continuing to involve one's self with the affairs of those beset by otherworldly disasters is tantamount to courting one's own demise. Araragi's incredible luck has managed to keep him alive--though not unscathed so far, but how long can that kind of good fortune really last?

Nisemonogatari picks up where Bakemonogatari left off. It's summer and Araragi seems to be cramming for his upcoming final exams. Meme Oshino has vanished and his absence leaves Araragi at a loss and fuels his growing anxiety and fear of losing his connection to the people who are dear to him. A brief lull in his intense study-schedule gives Araragi the chance to reflect on things like the dynamics of his various relationships. This is where the next chapter of the story begins. Koyomi Araragi's worlds are about to collide. He certainly won't have the luxury of heeding Meme Oshino's warning when the people closest to him are targeted by an errant supernatural being.

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"Story Summary: the black swindler Kaiki Deishu, who once deceived Hitagi, returns to town and spreads the incantation which cursed Nadeko before. Koyomi's sisters Karen and Tsukihi try to capture Deishu..."

NisiOisin carries on his tradition of alternating between poking fun and capitalizing on genre tropes, pop-culture and current events. The artwork is richly detailed, a bit sophisticated, and a bit avant-garde. Vofan's superb artistic talent helps bring the lovely, unabashedly complicated characters of both Bakemonogatari and Nisemonogatari to life. Their foibles, hopes and desires are laid bare in design and dialogue, which is still as clever as ever and constantly shifting smoothly from intelligently light-hearted and somewhat perverse to unexpectedly gut-wrenching.

Nisemonogatari is published by Aniplex USA and has been licensed for simulcast at Crunchyroll on Saturdays at 12:30pm EST. Nisemonogatari Episode One - Karen Bee, Part One premiered today and is currently available to members with premium memberships only. It will be available to free-account members in 7 days.

Leviathans

Tonya R. Moore — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 22:19:41 +0000

These days, when I see the word "leviathan" two examples immediately come to mind. The first is Moya from Farscape. Moya was the stolen prisoner transport ship that became home to John Crichton and friends. She was massive--as the "Leviathan Transport" designation suggests, and full of mysteries.

Thanks to the likes of classic SF author Anne McCaffrey, an intelligent ship with a will and mind of her own is not such a new idea. A ship that actually gave birth though, that's certainly one remarkable notion. Plot-wise, Moya was as important as any other member of the Farscape gang, and experienced her very own series of human-like joys and tragedies throughout the duration of the story.

Long before the likes of Moya came along, a certain leviathan rose up from the depths of the sea, possibly seeking an end to loneliness. In 1951, Ray Bradbury wrote "The Fog Horn," a short story about a primeval monster that makes an annual odyssey to a remote lighthouse, attracted by the haunting resonance of the fog horn.

The gargantuan is drawn to the sounds of the fog horn. The fog horn stirs up echoes of ancient memories, memories perhaps of a time when the beast wasn't so alone in its universe. So, stirs a longing. It travels. It seeks. Driven by an instinctive need to fill--god knows how many eons of emptiness; it surges upward from the depths to woo the fog horn. "The Fog Horn" is an arresting tale, full of endless yearning.

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Did you know?

Slumfairy by Tonya R. Moore is the first of several stories that take place aboard an ancient leviathan ship called Hegira. Her unique culture is the product of many generations having shaped the great ship's innards into a kingdom of diversely populated cities, rife with horror and boundless beauty.

Slumfairy was recently published in the Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road anthology.

Which are your most memorable leviathans from the SF genres?

WOTWS Book Tour Continues

Tonya R. Moore — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 00:03:08 +0000

Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road is a diverse anthology of short fiction spanning the crime, horror, suspense, paranormal, post-war, apocalyptic, post-apocalyptic, erotica, literary and urban fiction genres.

Today we are visiting author Mike Brecon during our Alternative-Read Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road Anthology Book Tour and Treasure hunt!

Visit Mike here for a chance to win the prize he has up for grabs - his book, A Dangerous Remedy! http://bit.ly/ta2PNz

Want to know where else we've been? (You'll need to visit each one for a chance to WIN THE KINDLE!!!) Plus there is more to come...

Holiday Hat Book Cover #1
28th Nov -- Sassy Brit - opens the tour
This is where it starts!
The Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road
Book Tour and Treasure Hunt #1 http://bit.ly/shf87H
Leave a comment on the AR blog for a chance to win
the book prize

Holiday Hat Book Cover #2
29th Nov -- Visit Editor Clayton Bye for day 2 of the tour
http://bit.ly/sFqHZQ
Leave a comment on Clayton's blog
for a chance to win the book prizes.

Holiday Hat Book Cover #3
30th Nov -- Megan Johns Invites
you to meet the editors: http://bit.ly/utwJTA
Leave a comment on Megan's blog
for a chance to win the prize!

Holiday Hat Book Cover #4
1st Dec --Megan Johns Invites
you to meet the authors: http://bit.ly/vTfl9U
Leave a comment on Megan's blog
for a chance to win the prize!

Holiday Hat Book Cover #5
2nd Dec -- Find the 5th Holiday Hat with John B. Rosenman
and win his book Dax Rigby War Correspondent while you are there http://bit.ly/rJL5UD
Leave a comment on John's blog
for a chance to win the book prize.

Holiday Hat Book Cover #6
5th Dec -- Angelika Devlyn is featured on Blossom and Thorn's blog -
To find out more about winning a copy of Black Ice
Go here and continue the hunt: http://bit.ly/tGjXio
Leave a comment on Blossom and Thorn's blog
for a chance to win the book prize.

Holiday Hat Book Cover #7
6th Dec -- Find the 7th Holiday Hat Book cover and win
an angelic fantasy with Marion Web-De Sisto
http://bit.ly/rJo0ZV
Leave a comment on Marion's blog for a chance to win the book prize.

Holiday Hat Book Cover #8
7th Dec -- Win an Erotic Deception with Karen Cote'
http://bit.ly/ud56ow
Leave a comment on Karen's blog for a chance to win the book prize.

Holiday Hat Book Cover #9
8th Dec -- Win 2 copies of Kit St. Germain's Escape clause here:
http://bit.ly/vPsicv (leave comments of the AR blog for a chance to win books).

Holiday Hat Book Cover #10
9th - Dec -- Win $25 or equivalent with Tonya R. Moore
http://bit.ly/tnxiK0
Leave a comment on Tonya's blog for a chance to win the $25 Amazon gift voucher prize.

Holiday Hat Book Cover #11
12th Dec -- Win a copy of Murder of an American Nazi with Tim Fleming
http://bit.ly/rAeCg1
Leave a comment on Tim's blog for a chance to win the book prize.

Holiday Hat Book Cover #12
13th Dec -- Win a copy of erotic dark fantasy Black Ice with Angelika Devlyn
http://bit.ly/sk4LXh
Leave a comment on Angelika's blog for a chance to win the book prize

Holiday Hat Book Cover #13
14th Dec -- Win a copy of Mike Brecon's book A Dangerous Remedy
http://bit.ly/vFTkmt
Leave a comment on Mike's blog for a chance to win the book prize.

You have until 22nd Dec to leave a comment on each of these authors blogs to win their individual prizes.

For the KINDLE CONTEST- you have until 25th Dec to send all your answers - the urls to all the places
you've found the 'Holiday Hat book covers' to Sassy Brit here: http://bit.ly/gNmBvs

Full details of both contests are here: http://bit.ly/sCuhYB

Slumfairy is Here

Tonya R. Moore — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 22:51:55 +0000

Bex Atria is many things. Violent. Human. Mercenary. She is one of two billion sapient beings living aboard Hegira, a wandering world of horror and boundless beauty. Bex has lived in the slums of Hegira all her life. She's done it all. She's seen it all. Nothing can surprise her. Sumida is everything Bex isn't. She is soft-spoken. Inhuman. Sheltered. She's about to turn Bex's world upside down...

Meet Bex and Sumida in SLUMFAIRY, a space opera story in the Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road anthology. Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road is a truly diverse work spanning the crime, horror, suspense, paranormal, post-war, apocalyptic, post-apocalyptic, erotica, literary and urban fiction genres. The anthology is intended to be a deviation from what might be considered mainstream, in terms of the variety and avant-garde nature of the works presented.

Now Available for purchase in Print

Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road

ISBN 9780978177447
Average Rating: 4 out of 5
Print Price: $23.95

Publisher: Chase Enterprises
Quantity Discount: Order Quantity (5) | Price Per Item ($18.68)

Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road anthology author, Megan Johns who penned THE JOURNEY interviews Sassy Brit of Alternative-Read.com and Clayton C. Bye - Chase Enterprises, Editors/Publisher of the anthology.

Cosmic Vision

Tonya R. Moore — Wed, 07 Dec 2011 12:49:55 +0000

When did humans first begin yearning for the stars? Mesopotamian astrologists were basing religion on celestial bodies long before Hellenistic astronomers determined that Earth was spherical. By the time we managed to actually send humans to the moon, even the heliocentric astronomical model had long gone the way of the flat Earth theory.

The Cold War spurred the race to space, which spawned the heyday of pulp scifi tales featuring ray guns, rocketships, space elevators and the like. Today's speculative fiction concepts tend to be a little more modernized but just like those presented in the classics--whether based on actual science or the fantastically far-fetched--our wildest notions of what could be or even what we believe to be impossible, embody the creative drive which propels the technological and ideological advancement of our species.

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In terms of the galaxy enveloping us, the stellar body that the ancients once proported to be the center of the universe has been relegated to the significance a grain of sand. The Milky Way is just one of about thirty galaxies in our Local Group. What manner of gods would the ancients have dreamed up, based on the knowledge that this cluster is a mere fraction of the Local Supercluster--a filament portion which spans the distance of well over one hundred million light years?

We yearn for more than just a fleeting glimpse of the wonders that might be waiting for us out there in the cosmos. We seek truth while evolving at a snail's pace. We ponder questions yet unanswered, we hope and we dream. I wonder what we'll envision when an even bigger picture of our cosmic neighborhood is within our ability to percieve since the more we learn of our universe, the wilder our imaginations become.

Information & Image Sources:
www.sxc.hu | www.nasa.gov | wikipedia.org | news.discovery.com/space

Anne McCaffrey: Thank You and Goodbye

Tonya R. Moore — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 11:47:51 +0000

Anne Inez McCaffrey (1 April 1926 - 21 November 2011) was an award-winning science fiction and fantasy author, best known for her Dragonriders of Pern series. She published nearly 100 books beginning in 1967.

It seems Anne McCaffrey's prolific career began when she was about forty years old. That really says something. It makes impatience and despairing over certain failings seem so foolish. After all, there's no statute of limitations or expiration date on the things that we find meaningful. It's never too late to start something remarkable.

I'll never forget the first time I happened to pick up a book by Anne McCaffrey. The story of Helva, The Ship Who Sang made me realize that there were oceans and galaxies of fantastic ideas, yet to be explored. Her Dragonriders, Acorna, Rowan, Crystal Singer, Freedom and Brainship series are a great part of the reason I grew to love the Science Fiction and Fantasy genres so much.

I fell in love with the Dragonrider series after reading Dragonsinger, the story of the young musician Menolly and her nine fire lizards--sort of miniature cousins to the dragons of Pern.

I remember being so amazed by the concept of dragons as telepathic, sapient beings that could defy the laws of time and space by slipping between dimensions. The idea of humans having ventured deep into space and formed a new culture after so much time that they had forgotten their original world really resonated within me.

Anne McCaffrey's stories not only engendered my love of the SF genres, they opened up my mind to a whole new universe of possibilities. Along with certain works of Ray Bradbury and Larry Niven, it was her Rowan and Brainship series that eventually prompted my foray into writing Space Opera, specifically.

The news of Anne McCaffrey's passing is quite saddening. In the space of a year and half, two of my greatest creative influences--Satoshi Kon and Anne McCaffrey--have moved on from this life. They've both managed to leave us with more than a bit of something positive. Still, for those who have been amazed and inspired by their work, the world will never be quite the same.

Anne Inez McCaffrey (1 April 1926 - 21 November 2011)

Anne McCaffrey died of a stroke at the age of 85 on November 21, 2011. She was an American science fiction and fantasy author to whom home has been Dragonhold-Underhill, County Wicklow, Ireland since 1970.

Author information and image sources:
wikipedia.org
withfriendship.com

The Worlds of Anne McCaffrey

Blood Binds Discontinued

Tonya R. Moore — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 01:19:33 +0000

Publication of Blood Binds, the multi-verse fantasy adventure story by Tonya R. Moore serialized in eFiction Magazine between April 2010 and September 2011, has been discontinued.

This was a decision I made as the author, with much regret and based on my own personal circumstances. The future of the story is undecided, at this time.

eFiction Magazine, launched just a little bit over over a year ago. Each monthly issue features a mix of prose and poetry from various contributors. eFiction is a wonderful publication and I hope there will be some time in the future when I will have the opportunity to work with them again.

Subscribe to eFiction Magazine via Amazon Kindle.

Still upcoming on the calendar:

My newest work, the 7k word space opera short story "Slumfairy" will be published in Alternative-Read's upcoming "Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road" anthology. Writers On The Wrong Side Of The Road will feature work in a variety of genres. The anthology is being spearheaded by editors Sassy Brit and C.C. Bye, and will showcase edgy, extraordinary offerings of short stories.

Writers On The Wrong Side on Facebook | Pre-Order the anthology.

Today is National Day on Writing

Tonya R. Moore — Fri, 21 Oct 2011 00:43:09 +0000

The establishment of National Day on Writing was an effort to increase recognition of the cultural significance of the of Writing as an artform and the impact that the written word has on our daily lives. Thanks to the efforts of the National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE), resolutions were passed by the United States Senate in 2011, 2010, and 2009 declaring October 20 the National Day on Writing.

To commemorate the day, the NCTE posed one question to the world:

Why Do You Write?

The New York Times Learning Network, in collaboration with the National Writing Project, Figment and Edutopia have generated a respectable bit of momentum by asking the world to post messages to Twitter today with the hashtag #whyIwrite.

Writers, teachers and students alike have joined in and the result has so far been and continues to be an inspiring collage of personal ideologies, hopes and experiences. I couldn't very well let the day end without adding my two cents, could I? At first, I thought doing so in 140 characters or less might be a bit of a challenge but my nswer turned out to be quite simple.

I write because I live and I dream.

Not exactly eloquent but that pretty much sums it up for me. The day is still young, so there's still time to share your reason with the world. Why Do You Write?

Horror for Halloween

Tonya R. Moore — Sun, 02 Oct 2011 10:25:52 +0000

Episode 16 of Blood Binds has been postponed, and will return in the November issue of eFiction Magazine. In the meantime, eFiction Magazine brings us 160 pages of scary good horror, just in time for Halloween.

Pick up the latest issue of eFiction Magazine to read the rest. You can Download the free PDF version at efictionmag.com or Subscribe to eFiction Magazine via Amazon Kindle.

There are stories from Marcin Wrona, P.J. Kaiser, Michael Burns, Leila Gaskin, Randy Attwood, D.L. Marriott, Jody Williams, and Steven M. Moore. Plus, the continuation of serials from Erica Linquist & Aron Christenson and Aaron Wilson.

Don't miss the chance to win a shiny, new Kindle Fire! eFiction Magazine is giving one away. To enter, take a picture of yourself reading eFiction magazine (online, on your ereader, wherever) and Enter to win a Kindle Fire. eFiction Magazine's staff will vote on which photo is the most interesting, funny, and/or visually appealing, so get creative and send one in!

Pick up the latest issue of eFiction Magazine. You can Download the free PDF version at efictionmag.com or Subscribe to eFiction Magazine via Amazon Kindle.

1 - Prelude

Tonya R. Moore — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 04:00:42 +0000

Rose Dautrey wasn't Irish. Nevertheless, she'd just spent the last four and quarter hours huddled like a dark bird finally come to roost, in the corner between the upholstery and the window of a Killary bound cab's back seat. The driver's window was open, just a crack. The bracing breeze that wriggled in promised rain.

The cab driver was skinny man whose jacket hung unevenly off his shoulders whenever he stood. He glanced uneasily at the desolate house looming over the incline just beyond the gates they'd just entered. There didn't seem to be any lights on inside. The fat, full moon peeked out from behind cumulus clouds, illuminating the glistening scales of a snake slithering across the grass.

"Are you sure this is the place?” He asked.

Rose nodded briefly, eying the threshold that she hadn't crossed for over sixteen years. "My son is here. I'm sure."

The cab driver eyed the building again, dubiously. He shrugged, offering to take her bag inside, the way young men are often kind to old women. It was mildly mortifying.

"I can manage." Rose declined politely.

Truthfully, she hated this house. It was a ghostly lumbering thing with endless corridors and columns. The fierce stone gargoyles along the upper walls secretly terrified her.

Why now? she wondered. Why did Jonathan come back to this place, after all this time?

The taxi rolled back down the driveway, taking with it any chance she'd had to change her mind. Tiny droplets of rain began sifting through the rolling clouds. Rose snatched up her bag and went up the marble steps, grimacing at the toll such minor exertion took on her body. She smiled grimly as the heavy oak door swung open before her.

In the foyer, a pathetic little lamp toiled in the semi dark. There was an unlit candelabrum on a small table. She traded her bag for that, fished a lighter from the pocket of her purse and continued. There was supposed to be an old ballroom at the end of the hall. Solomon, her employer, had once had it converted into a conservatory in another of his attempts to cajole Jonathan into returning to his childhood home. Rose never could understand why it was so important to him, that their foster son return to the place so closely connected to his greatest trauma.

She found him seated at a piano beyond rows and rows of velvet lined seats. His head was down on the casing. The French doors were open behind him. Rain, mist and moonlight poured in. She set the candelabrum down on the floor and walked past him wordlessly. Her footsteps sounded loud and alien on the marble floor, even to her own ears.

His black hair was slick and gleaming with wetness. She got a fresh whiff of the distant ocean air mingled with the scent of wounded greenery and spilled wine. She started to close the doors.

"Leave them open, Mother. Please."

Rose's heart tripped a little. It always did whenever he called her that. His voice was raw and slurred. She turned to see him looking blearily at her; maybe not quite drunk yet, but he was steadily getting there.

"You're ruining a priceless piano," she complained.

He only smiled slightly at that. "How did you know I was here?"

"Solomon told me."

"Solomon told you what, exactly?" His head tilted slightly, as he eyed her curiously.

Rose didn't miss his hesitation, or the subtle hitch in his breath. She took a deep breath, preoccupied herself with staring a broken bottle on the floor. A stream of rubicund liquid was slowly fanning outward from the center.

"Don't worry, Jonathan. He didn't tell me that much." She pursed her lips in annoyance as she muttered, "whatever secrets the two of you share with each other are safe from me."

"Rose..."

"He said that you needed to take a break from everything, a sabbatical of sorts." She relented after a few moment of uncomfortable silence. "You started having those nightmares again, didn't you?"

A ghost of a smile played at his lips. "You think so?"

"I don't know what to think." Rose didn't know how to go on, how to explain the many lies. The intent had been to protect the child, but how could she explain that to the man he'd become, without even knowing why? Solomon was the one who knew everything.

"No. I think," her voice fell to a whisper. "There has to be more to it than..."

It was too much. She'd come too far, traveled halfway across the world to find him. She was dead tired and so very cold. She suddenly couldn't seem to summon the strength to keep standing. She was only vaguely aware of pitching forward, darkness swallowing up the room.

Rose woke up in bed. She was dry and warm, too warm. She made an attempt to throw the covers off. Jonathan was sitting in a chair beside the bed. He moved to help her. He drew the covers back, then smoothed aside the hair on her brow. He didn't realize it, but he was mimicking the very thing she used to do for him when he was a child.

Noticing the the acrid smell on her breath, he frowned. "I thought you gave up smoking years ago."

"What can I say? Bad habits die hard." She really had quit ages ago. That hadn't stopped her innards from disintegrating anyway. In lieu of explaining that it didn't matter either way, Rose shrugged and changed the subject. "So, were you planning on answering my question?"

"What, you're just going to try to pick up where we left off like nothing happened?" He stared down at her incredulously. "You fainted! Get some sleep. We can talk all you want in the morning."

"I don't want to wait until morning!" She snapped irritably. "Jonathan, I want to know. Where have you been? Why'd you come to hide away here, of all places?"

"I'm sorry. I should've--"

“This isn't about being dutiful so don't give me that tone." She scowled at him reproachfully. "I was worried, really worried. Did you even stop to consider that? Can you imagine what it was like to find out you'd just disappeared like that?"

"I know," he said. "There was something I needed to do."

"That's not good enough!" She whispered furiously. "You can't just walk away from people who care about you, with no explanation. I was so afraid that something really bad had--."

"Something bad, like what, exactly?"

The sudden question startled her. "What do you mean?"

“What do you know, that I don't, Rose?" His voice was low and dangerous, full of suspicion. Rose couldn't exactly blame him, couldn't even look him squarely in the eyes. "You keep saying I'm helping Solomon keep secrets from you but aren't you the one who never tells me anything?

"I don't know you," he declared baldly. "I don't know anything about you or Solomon. You know, it always bugged me. Sometimes, I'd get this the feeling you hate each other. So, what is it that keeps you together? I know it's me, but I don't know why. You and Solomon, you're the closest thing I have to family but I don't trust you. I don't trust either of you."

Rose stared, astonished but not just by his outburst. Just then, she'd caught a fleeting glimpse of something something lost lost. It was in the way he moved as he paced. Caged violence, eyes so dark that if she stared too long, she'd get chills.

"You know," she sighed. "You have your father's eyes."

He froze, slowly turned to gape at her. "You knew my father?"

"Quite well, and your mother." On the bedside table was a small mirror with a glided frame. "Well, I didn't exactly know her quite as well." She nudged it, so that the reflective surface faced her way.

It was jarring. Rose didn't remember her hair being so gray. When had that endless array of wrinkles taken up residence on her face? When the hell had she gotten so haggard and frail?

"Jonathan," she asked at length. It was about time to speed things along anyway. That was her reason for coming here, after all. "Do you know how you came to be in Solomon's care?"

"I really hate it when you ask leading questions like that." He came back, sank down unto the chair her bed.

Outside, the fog was thickening. Curling wisps of mist stole in under windowsill. How could anyone love a place like this? So much cold and stone, so many centuries of waiting and watching. It was peaceful, yet it made Rose sick inside.

"I feel like I'm losing my mind, here." He finally answered. "I don't suppose I can run from my past anymore." In the soft glow of lamplight Rose saw that he was still wet. His mouth tilted and he grinned. "Why don't you tell me a story, Mother?" There was an edge of desperation to that teasing plea. "Tell me how an orphan is made."

"I don't know the "how" of it." She regretted having to burst his bubble there. "The man I was supposed to marry got called away on a family emergency. At least, that's what he said it was. When he came back to town, he wasn't alone. Next thing I knew, he was married... to someone else, with a baby on the way. I left town. Moved clear across the country."

Amazing. Rose felt only a shadow of that old hurt. All of the turmoil of that time had boiled down to nostalgia and worry for the man sitting before her now.

"God... Rose." Jonathan's fingers clutched at hers. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" His appalled earnestness made her chuckle. "It was a long time ago, kid. I got over it. I hadn't seen, much less thought of Nathaniel Baron in years when one night, there was a knock on my door. Some strange man was standing there, saying something terrible had happened and an old friend needed my help." She laughed hoarsely at that. "An old friend, he said."

"Insensitive bastard. Let me guess, it was Solomon?" Jonathan muttered. "Why didn't you tell him to go to hell?"

Rose shrugged. "I guess there was always that lingering attachment... anyway, I decided to hear him out. He told me everyone in your family had died and he brought me to this house. Once I saw you..."

"Wow," Jonathan released a shaky breath. "I don't know what I was expecting to hear but you really threw me for a loop." He frowned. "Still, you crossed the Atlantic to tell me this? It's not exactly the sort of thing that couldn't have waited."

"I came to tell that you still living relatives." She watched him sway a little as that revelation sank in. "They must know what really happened to your parents. You've been wandering the world like a lost soul for the past six months. Maybe the place you need to go to is home."

"You know where they are?"

"Hmmm," Rose nodded, failing stifling a yawn. "In my bag. There's a letter."

“Why don't you get some sleep?" He stood abruptly. "We can talk more about this in the morning... I need to think."

He turned to leave but he hesitated and frowned down at her thoughtfully. "You know, you don't look well. Should I worry?"

She snorted. "I'm old. I just traveled thousands of miles and I'm exhausted. Of course, I don't look well."

He stared at her for a while, but he relented. He stopped stopped in the doorway and turned around. "The music's gone. It's been that way for a while. It's gone and I don't even care."

He said it quietly and with such absolute certainty that Rose wanted to weep. For some reason she couldn't fathom, that small confession wounded her more than anything else that he could have said. As he left, closing the door behind him she felt the boy that she'd helped to raise, slipping away.

He'd go to Fogg Island. She wouldn't live long enough to see him again. It was wisest course, in any case. Not saying goodbye. Like his father before him, he'd become like a stranger she could only love from a distance. It was with such longing that she loved him.

--> Next: "Fogg Island"

0 - New World

Tonya R. Moore — Mon, 05 Sep 2011 02:33:06 +0000

Somewhere southwest of Greenland, squalling arctic winds battered at a coastal inlet. Unmoved, the glaciers continued crawling toward the sea. Nigh noon, the chaos dominating the far North was briefly amplified. An explosive tremor from the innards of the earth rocked the small island's river of blazing white.

For a few seconds, the whole world hung in suspended animation. A chunk of the creeping giant tumbled over into the sea. Glimmers of sunlight spearing down through tumultuous clouds illuminated a startlingly arresting ballet. Sweeping swirls of diamond dust drifted down unto waterlogged slog. The mountain made of blue, white and rock was coming apart at the seams, exposing an endless plexus of honeycombed crevasses. From deep within, a crystalline tinkling rose up into the icy air. It swelled into a sound akin to music before ballooning into a deafening roar.

Come sundown, the wind receded to a woebegone moan. Sea and shore were littered with the devastated remnants of the quake. Mammoth blocks of ice had been pulverized by chunks of granite and gneiss spewing out of the glacier's maw. Rapier sharp shards of obsidian clung to the fringes of the ice sheet. They slowly sank down into the slush.

An ovoid object had been spat out of the glacier’s maw. It rested precariously on a large raft of candle ice that floated towards the shoreline. The peculiar egg was dirty-silver, covered by a network of whorls and glyphs. Darkness descended. The pattern lit up. The only evidence of animal life in this barren stretch of land was an occasional thud coming from within the strange container.

Mid-morning, a forceful crack reverberated along the walls of ice. The object burst open. A deluge of sticky crimson spewed out. Torrents of it flooded and settled on the ice, congealing over frost. A small figure possessing the delicate limbs of a small child emerged. She was soaked from the top of her head to the tips of her bare toes. Her wet black hair curled at the edges, clinging to her ears. She surged forward--stumbled to her knees, chest heaving as she vomited up the rank bile that had filled her lungs.

When it finally stopped, she stood--wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She slowly scanned her surroundings. He expression remained unchanged as each obstacle registered, the dark wall of mountains, the frozen sea--the staggering expanses in between. Eventually, she began walking westward, circumventing the shoreline. Her footsteps made bright red puddles in the sunlit snow behind her. She never looked back. Not once did she stop to give the craft from which she'd escaped, as much as a backward glance.

The most desolate of places had birthed a demon with stained skin and dark, dark eyes. The world took no notice. The arctic merely reclaimed its chaotic rhythm. Banshee winds choked the air, blanketing all evidence of her emergence with wet and blue and white. The glaciers continued the slow, onward march to their doom.

--> Next: "Prelude"

Blood Binds

Tonya R. Moore — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 09:42:07 +0000

The story began in the aftermath of a vicious assault on Helioselene, a wayfarer living on present day Earth--as we know it. She learns that the attempt on her life was the result of a Blood Grudge and that most of her family had already been wiped out. Accompanied by her estranged husband Charls, a sorcerer of remarkable talents and Kyle Watson, a strangely mild-mannered vampire, Helioselene sets out to find the source of the curse.

The has lead them across several worlds and so far, they've picked up two additional traveling companions and managed to survive a bunch of hair-raising encounters with various sorcerers, vampires, dragons and even a self-proclaimed god of destruction.

When Helioselene learns what great secret Charls has been keeping from her, she is reminded that fate--however cruel--is often inescapable. The one responsible for all of the death and destruction surround the wayfarer is closer to her heart than she'd ever imagined.

eFiction Magazine

Tonya R. Moore — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 09:39:48 +0000

Editor-in-Chief, Doug Lance launched eFiction Magazine nearly a year and a half ago. Each monthly issue features a robust mix of prose and poetry from an eclectic bunch of talented contributors.

eFiction Magazine, is released monthly and presently available for download from the Amazon Kindle Store. The increasingly popular publication is also available as Share to Download for free or Free Online reading at www.efictionmag.com.

eFiction Authors is a community for writers in general and welcomes past, current and aspiring contributors of eFiction Magazine. The main feature of the community is Groups. The most active currently include a Workshop, Book Club, and Writing Prompts

On the Wrong Side

Tonya R. Moore — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 09:35:42 +0000

Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road will include Slumfairy, the first of a new series of related Space Opera short stories Tonya R. Moore.

Slumfairy's protagonist is Bex Atria, is a small time mercenary living aboard a massive ship called Hegira. Hegira the legacy of an ancient culture of Starchasers, presently rivals many planetary powers in terms of cultural diversity, population and political turmoil. The Merchant Guild and Koros are two factions vying for dominance on Hegira. Their misdeeds lie at the root of Bex's deepest trauma and their continued violence and machinations have made the agents of both powers the bane of her existence.

Through some consternating twist of fate, Bex is charged with playing bodyguard to Sumida--candidate for Hegira's next pilot and coveted ward of the Merchant Guild but there's more to Sumida than even Koros or the Guild realize. In the midst of their helter-skelter flight through the grimy underbelly of their sagging kingdom, the jaded mercenary's disgust toward her cosseted charge gradually turns to awe.

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Kizuna

Tonya R. Moore — Sat, 03 Sep 2011 09:28:18 +0000

Kizuna: Fiction for Japan is a mixed-genre anthology of short fiction, most of it 1000 words or under. It boasts internationally-known authors like Michael Moorcock, Ken Asamatsu, Jon Courtenay Grimwood, John Shirley, Shinya Gaku, Vittorio Catani, Robert M. Price, Joseph S. Pulver, Sr., and Alvin Pang; genre-authors like Bradley Sands, Jason Wuchenich, Andersen Prunty, and Garrett Cook; and independent authors like Trent Zelazny and Glynn Barrass.

An astonishing 76 authors answered the call to help and approximately ninety percent of it is original work written specifically for this anthology. 100 percent of the proceeds will go to helping orphans in the disaster-devastated areas of Miyagi, Iwate and Fukushima via the NPO, Smile Kids Japan.

Smile Kids Japan and Living Dreams (NPOs / social benefit organizations) are working together on Smiles and Dreams, a program to help the orphanages in the worst affected prefectures of Fukushima, Miyagi and Iwate. From helping with immediate needs, to setting up long term programs to empower the children to dream again and help them realize their goals, Smiles and Dreams is a grassroots project that gets the money directly to those in need.

Writers on the Wrong Side

Tonya R. Moore — Sun, 21 Aug 2011 08:26:34 +0000

Here's a tidy bit of News: my space opera short story "Slumfairy" will be published in Alternative-Read's upcoming "Writers on the Wrong Side of the Road" anthology.

Writers On The Wrong Side Of The Road will feature work in a variety of genres, including erotica, sci-fi and more. The anthology is being spearheaded by editors Sassy Brit and C.C. Bye, and will showcase edgy, extraordinary offerings of short stories.

My Story:

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Blood Binds 14

Tonya R. Moore — Wed, 03 Aug 2011 19:56:33 +0000

Blood Binds # 14 - Part 3 of the Wandering Child arc, is in the August issue of eFiction Magazine. In this chapter, Helioselene discovers that she's been 'ported back to the place where the event that precipitated the loss of her son took place, decades earlier. Still trapped aboard that strange vessel, Tallow and Kyle begin to suspect that Baron's dubious friend, Sasha intends to do her more harm than good.

Excerpt:

Love always begins and ends with a kind of death.

Deandra was dead, had been for decades. The sylvan city had been swallowed whole. Its flora. Its fauna. Its very soul. A storm raged there, like some sapient beast bent on barring entry into the barren kingdom. The only thing left living in the once great city was a single tree. Its massive limbs bowed over the bones of the stone cathedral that had once been the wizard and the wayfarer's home. Its copse kissed the endlessly turbulent clouds above. It bloomed magnificently...

Pick up the latest issue of eFiction Magazine to read the rest. You can Download the free PDF version at efictionmag.com or Subscribe to eFiction Magazine via Amazon Kindle. eFiction Magazine is available on both Kindle and Android devices.) The August 2011 issue of eFiction Magazine also presents stories by Alan Jankowski, Bob Kalkreuter, Kevin Fraleigh, Aji Iris, Mary Oneil, Helen Seymour, Lia Fairchild, Joe Flood, and a poem by Edward Rosodek. Essie Holton reviews three works of fiction in this month's issue.