Tag Archives: Sci-fi romance

Guest Post–Writing Life by Diane Burton

For most authors, writing is a way of life. We write every day. It’s our job and our passion. We write when we’re in the zone and when each word is like slogging through a swamp. Being in the zone is much more fun. 😊 Whether writing content for blogs, giving advice and “atta girls” on Facebook, or reviews of books we’ve read, we’re writing.

Procrastination is the writer’s worst enemy. Not writer’s block, procrastination. Avoidance. Not opening the file. Not reading what we’ve written.

I’ve never stared at a blank screen. A new story is so exciting. The idea has been swirling around my subconscious for days, weeks even. The excitement of a new story, new characters, new situations, maybe even a new world makes my fingers jitter for joy. Then, the story stalls. I written myself into a corner and don’t know how to get out of it. Or, a character isn’t behaving, and I don’t know what to do about her/him.

And that’s when procrastination sets in. Oh, I know what to do. Open the d@nm file. Do I? Nope. I fold clothes (the ones that have been wrinkling in the clothes basket for a week), I work on family finances, I organize my closet, I play solitaire or mah jong on the computer, I binge watch Netflix or Acorn TV. I do anything except open the file and read what I’ve written. I know that will get me back on track.

So much for writing every day.

Today, I’m going to open that file and write 500 words. Oh, wait. The flowers in front need weeding.

Every weekend, Diane shares snippets from The Pilot (An Outer Rim Novel) with the Weekend Writing Warriors on her blog. The Pilot is a science fiction romance and the first book in her Outer Rim series, featuring strong women on the frontier of space.

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There’s no place like home and he stole hers.

Life on the frontier of space is hard enough so when pirates stole Celara d’Enfaden’s cargo, she vowed not to be tricked again. Determined to make an example out of indie pilots who disobey orders, Coalition Administrator Trevarr Jovano impounds Celara’s starship and cargo. If he backs down, he’ll lose respect. If she can’t deliver her cargo, she’ll default on her loan and lose her only home—her ship. More important than her ship, though, is her brother. To rescue him from a galactic gangster, she’ll even work with Jovano who is bent on avenging his wife’s murder.

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EXCERPT

“Cargo transport, this is Coalition Security. Are you in need of assistance?

Celara d’Enfaden raced up the vertical ladder from the hold. She leapt across a corner of the open hole in the cabin floor. Reaching under the cabinet above the aft bunk, she hit the switches that closed the hatch and started the exhaust fan. Finally, she whipped off her protective mask only to gag at the residual stench from the cargo. She took one look at the perma-film viewscreen across the bow of her starship and her heart stopped.

A Volpian cruiser nearly filled the screen. After the first hail in Universal, the deep male voice repeated the offer in different languages, even Menacan, Celera’s first language.

“Arjay,” she called. “We’ve got company.”

Her boots clattered on the floor’s metal plating as she raced to the cockpit. She vaulted over the arm of the pilot’s chair, narrowly avoiding her copilot as he crawled out from under the instrument panel.

She hit switches to power up the sublights. It would take time to bring all systems back online—time they didn’t have. “Sure hope you fixed that accelerator.”

“It is only a temporary measure.”

As if they had all the time in the galaxy, Arjay straightened his blond hair back into its normal perfectly-coifed appearance before brushing dust from the viridian-green uniform favored by space crews in the Central District. Ever fastidious, he refused to wear the roomy dun-colored shirt and trousers of a true indie, like she did.

“Quit primping and get us out of here.”

He settled into the seat next to her. “We are leaving? They offered to help us.”

“Remember what happened last time?” Her fingers flew across the instrument panel’s touchpads.

Arjay’s fingers flew faster. “Are they pirates?”

“Of course. Where in Lexol’s Fire did they come from? And why didn’t the proximity alarm go off?”

“Without further investigation, I would not know.” He didn’t stop his computations. “Volpian cruisers do not have shrouding capabilities. However, the ship appears new. It may be an experimental model.”

A siren pierced the small cabin. “About time,” she muttered before switching off the alarm.

Arjay brought the primary energizing coil online. Not for the first time she thanked the Spirits he was her copilot. He didn’t need to be told what to do. That made up for his primping.

“Cargo transport. I repeat, this is Coalition Security. Identify yourself.” The pirate’s voice carried the ring of authority.

For a half sec, she had misgivings. What if they were Coalition Security? If she didn’t obey, she would be in deep horse pucky. But she’d been tricked before by pirates claiming to be Coalition Security. No way were they getting her cargo. If that happened, she would be in even deeper trouble. She’d gone into serious debt to replace the cargo the first pirates stole. If she lost this load, she would lose more than her investment. Her starship was the collateral securing her loan.

Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction and romance into writing romantic fiction. Besides writing science fiction romance, she writes romantic suspense, and cozy mysteries. Diane and her husband live in West Michigan, close to their two children and five grandchildren.

For more info and excerpts from her books, visit Diane’s website: http://www.dianeburton.com

Connect with Diane Burton online

Blog:  http://dianeburton.blogspot.com/

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Guest Release Promotion–The Story of a Peace-Loving Man By Toni V. Sweeney

APEACELOVINGMAN_Nov18

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THE FIRST ENTRY IN A NEW SCIENCE FICTION SERIES…

Against the background of an interplanetary war comes the story of Allan McAllister and N’Sagar sh’en Singh.

He’s a Paxist, a believer in peace, forced by the United Terran Federation into military service to punish his treasonous kinsman. She’s the daughter of a Felidan pride chief, one of the enemy, but there’s no hatred in her heart for the lone Terran marooned on her planet.

Thrown together, then torn from each other by the aftermath of a war neither wanted, their love will be a tragedy and a triumph as a man sworn to walk the road of Peace is made to follow the dictates of War and suffer its consequences.

This is their story…

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EXCERPT

Pardee had a package from Shelagh. Home-made cookies. He opened the little box, offering it to Allan. The smell of ginger and cane sugar wafted out. “Gingerbread raisin. Have one, Mal.”

“Why do you call me that?” Allan asked, selecting a large, thick wafer. He inhaled the spice’s sharp scent. It made his mouth water. Taking a bite, he spoke through the sweet mouthful. “My name’s Allan. I don’t use my middle name.”

“No, you’re Mal. Short for Malcolm, aye.” Jon picked his own cookie, ate it in two bites before going on. “But mal also means “bad” an’ you’re a bad boy, Allan Malcolm McAllister…just like I am. Whether you want t’ be or not.”

“What do you mean you’re bad? I don’t see anyone beating up on you. They may be a little deferential to you but at least you aren’t ostracized like I am.”

“Is that your way o’ askin’ about me background? For if ’tis, I’ll be tellin’ a sordid tale, boyo.” Pardee could turn the thickness of that Irish accent on and off at will, but it always became more pronounced when he got serious. He picked another cookie.

“I guess I am,” Allan replied. “I’ll admit I’m curious. You’ve become my friend, Jon, and I can’t help wondering why. Is it for the notoriety, or are you just a glutton for punishment? It certainly can’t be because of my winning personality.”

“Now that…” Pardee pointed at him with the second cookie, closing one eye in a weird little squint just short of a wink. “…is where you’re wrong. I’ll admit I felt sorry for you at first, but it didn’t take me long to see you an’ I are alike in a way, an’ if an’ when things get down to basics where’er we’re goin’, ’tis you I want guardin’ me back, Mal. Just as I’ll be guardin’ yours.”

That floored Allan. That this man who was almost a stranger would come right out and say he trusted him with his life and would be willing to protect him, too.

“In that case…you’d better tell me how you became a bad boy, Private Pardee. Give me the whole, sordid mess.”

 

ToniVSweeney_Nov18

Toni V. Sweeney has lived 30 years in the South, a score in the Middle West, and a decade on the Pacific Coast and now she’s trying for her second 30 on the Great Plains. She holds a Bachelor’s degree in Fine Art and a diploma in Graphic Art and also produces book videos. Since the publication of her first novel in 1989, Toni divides her time between writing SF/Fantasy under her own name and romances under her pseudonym Icy Snow Blackstone. Her novels have garnered awards from The National Writers Association, Preditors & Editors, The Maryland Writers Association, and The Paranormal Romance Guild. In March, 2013, she became publicity manager for Class Act Books. She is also on the review staff of the New York Journal of Books and the Paranormal Romance Guild.  Recently she was named a professional reader by netgalley.com.

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Free Book Promotion—Leap Into The Knight by M.J. Schiller

LEAP INTO THE KNIGHT June 17

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Sir Darius Lee is a Knight of the High Order.

But when Darius wakes to discover a beautiful female intruder in his room, he begins to question his vows and how he lives his life.

Princess Megan of Bethyea is being held captive.

But when two knights help her to escape and bring her back to her home planet, she finds the home she knew no longer exists.

 The Council of Twelve has questions about Maggie and Darius’ budding relationship.

Will Darius lose his Knighthood? And what about Orion’s feelings for Maggie? The questions abound for these romantic Knights.

EXCERPT

Orion’s feet hit the bottom of the stairwell and he crossed the short distance to the door. After yanking it open, he stepped out into what were undoubtedly the laundry facilities. He was met by the heavy and unpleasant odor of mingled mold, flowery detergent, and the acidic smell of dry-cleaning chemicals. His eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light spilling from naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The heat and humidity were so thick they could almost drink it like a soup. He surveyed the area in dismay. The girl could have gone anywhere in the vast room running the length of the building.

Darius entered seconds behind him, seeming to take it all in instantaneously. They scanned the floor for clues. Maybe she had stepped in one of the many puddles left by the condensation dripping from pipes and left footsteps to follow. But no such luck. Orion was about to give up when Darius called out, “There.” He pointed to some windows near the top of the wall.

One window was cracked open a few inches and he could see where fingers had wiped away steam in the places they grabbed the glass and left droplets of water racing each other down the pane. He wondered how anyone could fit through so small an opening while at the same time, he tried to re-visualize the layout of the building.

“This way,” he called over his shoulder as he dodged laundry carts.

He found the door they needed, and they soon soaked in the crisp night. Bright light illuminated the lawn around the compound, ending at the edge of a wood. He felt certain the girl was lost, but as he watched, his master closed his eyes and seemed to center himself, breathing deep in the cool outside air. He had never met someone who could access their Inner Spirit so easily. But what could it possibly tell Darius now? Surely his master could not have formed a connection to this woman in such a short time, and Orion knew a spiritual connection was needed to track someone without physical clues to go on. Yet as he watched, he knew somehow the Knight would find her.

Darius opened his eyes and said purposefully, “This way.” He stepped out with certainty toward the nearest copse of trees.

They soon hurried through the woods, following what seemed to Orion to be an invisible path, although here and there he thought he caught glimpses of trampled grass and broken twigs. At last his master slowed his pace, much to his relief, as he struggled, despite his own tall frame, to keep up with Darius’s long strides. Darius motioned silently, indicating the stranger was ahead. They moved forward, trying to make no sounds that might alert her to their presence.

Within seconds, they arrived on the edge of a clearing bordering a large body of water. At first glimpse it appeared to be a natural lake with a gentle waterfall tumbling into it from a small stream to their right. But upon closer inspection Orion realized it was a little man-made oasis. What he initially thought to be rock was actually some kind of synthetic material with spaces created at regular intervals for people to sit, half-submerged in the water.

The girl stood on the edge of what appeared to be a large, upward-sloping outcropping of rock, but now he saw it was actually a cleverly designed diving platform for the pool.

Darius held up his hand and made a circular motion, gesturing to the far side of the pool. Orion nodded and circled around quietly in the brush beneath the covering of trees to the far side of the “lake.” He understood his task was to wait there in the event the girl should attempt to flee across the lake when cornered on the rock.

***

Darius waited in the stillness for Orion to reach the far side of the pool. The light changed, making it easier to watch the girl, but also allowing her to see him on the fringe of the woods. He guessed she’d stopped to rest after escaping into the woods and she didn’t suspect they had followed her here. He watched from slightly below where she stood on the ledge. Her lone figure was silhouetted in the growing dawn, and he speculated on whether this could be the woman they were sent to find. He didn’t take his eyes off her, but not out of the usual devotion to the mission. He simply was compelled to do so.

He wondered what it was he found so striking, so intriguing about this particular woman. He often met beautiful women in the course of his travels throughout the universe, and while he could appreciate their attractiveness, their physical appearance meant very little to him. They were merely features to note on his mental checklist of their description, like anyone else’s features. But this stranger who had not spoken a word to him, he discovered himself riveted to for some reason.

Completely out of character. But the change quietly thrilled him.

Free copies are available to anyone who emails a request to the author at mjschillerauthor@gmail.com

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M.J. Schiller (2)

M.J. Schiller is a lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer and the mother of a twenty-one-year-old and three nineteen-year-olds. That’s right, triplets! She enjoys writing novels whose characters include rock stars, desert princes, teachers, futuristic Knights, construction workers, cops, and a wide variety of others. In her mind everybody has a romance.

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Guest Promotion–Lady Of The Night by M.J. Schiller

LadyOfKnight_CVR_MED

Blurb ~

Can she betray the man she loves to save him?

An explosion rips Darius away from Maggie. Everyone believes him to be dead, but in her heart she knows it’s not true.

Will he betray The Order to make his way back to her?

Darius’s captor wants information about Council members.  Will duty win out over love?

Will he betray his best friend for the woman he loves?

Orion has learned to keep his distance from Maggie, but when circumstances throw them together in a very intimate way, how can he be expected to remain a loyal friend to Darius?

Excerpt ~

He entered a hallway lined with doors on either side. About halfway up a patch of light on the polished wood stretched from one of the doorways and then became slimmer and slimmer, disappearing as the door slid shut. He picked up his pace, but footsteps approached from a side hallway. Ducking into a doorway, he flattened himself against the cold metal, his heart racing. The footsteps echoed loudly on the flooring, but soon became more distant. Daring to stick his head out, he got a glimpse of the back of someone turning onto another corridor. He estimated the spot where he thought the light shone on the floor, then strode to the door, took a deep breath, and punched the keypad.

He was horrorstruck when the door opened. Maggie knelt at the foot of a brass bed facing it with her arms spread wide, electro-cuffed to the bedposts. The ape called Mic brought a whip crashing down on her back. Orion jumped at the sharp crack, wincing. He rushed forward and grabbed the slaver’s arm as he pulled it back for another blow. He ripped the whip from the meaty fist and threw it across the room where it knocked over a lamp. Mic whirled in a rage but was laid low by a single punch to his jaw. He staggered backward into the bed and slid slowly, almost comically, to the floor.

“Maggie.”

He hurried to her side, kneeling and laying his hands on her bare arms. “I’m so sorry.” He peered over her shoulder to see her exposed lower back and the welt already rising there.

“I’m okay.” She leaned to peer around the side of the bed at Mic’s prone figure. “Wow. I guess it is true. The bigger they are, the harder they do fall.” The corners of her lips turned up, but her eyes watered.

He smiled back, relieved she was safe. For the moment anyhow. He ran his hands along her arms to the electro-cuffs and deactivated them. They fell from her wrists, and she grabbed the bars of the bed to help her to her feet. She sucked in her breath through her teeth, then halted, appearing to gather herself for a few seconds. “I’ve got an idea about how I can get into the slave quarters.”

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MJ Schiller

M.J. Schiller, lunch lady/romance-romantic suspense writer, is the mother of a twenty-year-old and three eighteen-year-olds. That’s right, triplets! So having recently taught four children to drive, she likes to escape by pretending to be a rock star at karaoke. However, a record label is out of the question.

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