Happy New Year!
We had an eenzy weenzy launchicle on December 20 for Lupa, Forext Circle Quest and Freedom Fighter, at Glenstantia Library. The photos are still O/S, which is why I haven’t yet written about it; nevertheless we’ll definitely have to relaunch the three books as the launch was very under-attended due to 1) being very sudden and 2) being too close to Christmas. Like Hubbs says, you win some, you lose some…
It was a very interesting launch anyway, with sherry, and all three authors in attendance: Marie Marshall, the author of Lupa, on Skype Chat from Scotland; Leslie Hyla Winton Noble (who takes pride in being the only one of those, and also of being the author of Forest Circle Quest) from Durban via Skype Video; and yours truly (author of Freedom Fighter) in body. The library and the user group were both very impressed with the inventive use of technology to have a teleconference-style launch.
I’ll be posting pictures once I have them, am a bit closer to that now.
Next on the agenda, along with the relaunch of these three novels at a more convenient time, is the publication of Mercury Silver, our short-story collection, in a small paperback edition; and the publication of “Raider”, the fourth in the Solar Wind saga and the first that is true space opera. I’ll include a small excerpt at the bottom of this post.
Now here’s a very important thing: National Library Week is coming up! I’m going to get more details in the course of this next time, and when I have them, I’ll post on them.
(The Solar Wind IV)
A beautifully manicured red fingernail ticked against the map, twice. The image on the touch-sensitive screen augmented. A small white sun on the far end of the Spiral Galaxy zoomed into view.
Oval pupils narrowed to slits. The fingernail ticked the screen twice more, bringing the planets into view. Yellow eyes checked the date, the time, the positions. The grid was nearly ready for aligning.
It was time.
Whenever the cold stopped, there was pain. They vaguely remembered warm times; warm, hungry times. Colour, mostly red. And hot and sweet. Steaming red blood.
And sounds. Screams. They came in all shades, from the searing electric white of sheer terror to the numb, resigned whimpering brown of being eaten.
And now they were being made to remember another image. A visual. A human thing. That foreign human type that was not woman. It had hair on its face.
They would remember. As they went back into the cold, into the pain, they remembered the genetic signature, with hunger.
Shawn Donegal’s eyes flew open. He had the impression that something was crouching on top of the Space Base, just above his porthole. Something ugly, a huge black spider-shaped thing. He listened, and then told himself not to be stupid. This was space! Out there was vacuum! Nothing could breathe in that. He forced himself to close his eyes again and tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of the nightmare. Something was coming…