A to Z Challenge, Day 21: U Is For Universe

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For today’s A to Z entry, I figured I’d share an excerpt from a forthcoming series set in space.  We figured that folks on a ship in deep space would resort to having pets, just like on modern day ships, but they wouldn’t be all that common – and sometimes, even forbidden.  So what happens when you have a cat and…  Well, see for yourself.

Before Kass could come up with something to say that didn’t sound corny or stupid, a loud yowl interrupted them and the door started rattling.

Gwyn jumped and recoiled from the door. “What the fuck!”

Kass tried to keep the chuckle out of his voice. “Relax. That’s just Auntie. She wants in.”

Kass leaned over Gwyn’s lap and flipped the latch up. Before he could slide the door more than an inch, a grey and white paw appeared and tried to push it faster. Gwyn pulled his legs up off the floor, curling them under him, and watched with wide eyes as Kass got the door open enough for his cat to appear.

Being a cat, she stopped across the threshold, staring at Gwyn with green eyes and an unblinking gaze.

“You have a cat.” Gwyn didn’t ask it as a question; it sounded more like an accusation.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?”

“Cats hate me.”

Kass snorted and leaned over to nudge Auntie’s butt through the door so he could close it. She made a half-yeowl and consented to let him mush her against his leg. He flipped the latch and sat back, trailing his fingers over the side of the seat and playing with her fluffy tail.

“This is Auntie Grey. She adopted me from a litter one of the squads had about six months ago. She’s still a kitten, really.”

Gwyn’s eyes widened. “You mean, she’ll get bigger?”

“She’s hardly going to eat you, you big baby.” Kass leaned down and scooped her into his lap. She started purring immediately, kneading his leg, so he moved a small pillow under her claws to keep his pants from getting pulls in them. “See? She’s harmless.”

Auntie continued to stare at Gwyn, not blinking, and Gwyn stayed wadded up in the corner of his seat. This wasn’t how Kass wanted this little experiment to go. What if they didn’t like each other?

Auntie stirred and stood up, thrusting Kass’s hand out of her way with her hips. She stepped across from Kass’s leg to Gwyn’s and the medic froze, his face pale.

“Jesus. You’re really scared, aren’t you?”

“I told you. Cats hate me.”

Kass reached over and caught Gwyn’s chilled fingers and pulled his hand forward. He rested it on Auntie’s back and Auntie’s purr grew louder. She traveled up Gwyn’s leg and curled into a ball in his lap, right against the buckle of his belt.

“You’ll need this.” Kass handed Gwyn the pillow.

“What for?” The suspicion in Gwyn’s voice made Kass want to laugh.

“Put it under her front paws so she doesn’t knead your leg. She has all her claws.”

At the word “claws,” Gwyn’s blue eyes widened but he did as Kass told him and set the pillow just in front of Auntie’s paws. She sighed and rolled against him, reaching for the pillow with both feet. Gwyn set it down and then hesitated a moment before stroking her fur from head to shoulders.

Auntie sighed and closed her eyes, clearly settling in for the long haul.

Great. Try to have a necking session with a cat in the way. Just what Kass wanted.

A to Z Challenge, Day 20: T Is For Truffles

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Those of you who are paying attention will know that this is a picture of a cat, not a truffle – but, and this is important, it could be.  That’s the joy of worldbuilding.

I just spent time trying to find pictures of a cross-stitch that I did of a modified elephant.  We changed the color scheme from elephant grey to truffle browns, shortened the nose and made the ears rounder.  Since truffles are a cross between an aardvark and a cocker spaniel, elephants are a good base model – a cute, small-ish animal with fluffy fur and a trunk.

At the risk of sounding like all I want to do is talk about my books, I will say that worldbuilding for the Persis Chronicles was a hoot.  We got to build a culture from the ground up, decide what things we wanted to change, what we wanted to keep the same, and what we wanted to wave a magic science-shaped wand over (hence the series is science fantasy, rather than science fiction).  Our favorite creature, so far, is the truffle – so named because they help Hunters find the valuable goldstones under the sands just like truffle-hunting pigs do in our world.

If you could invent any animal at all, what would it be?

Oh, and the cat?  He’s my new buddy around the corner from my office.  I met him on a walk late last week and he came right over and let me love all over him.  Adorable!

A to Z Challenge, Day 19: S Is For Stir-Fry

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So.  You get home from the day job, or stop moving from the stay-at-home job, and realize it’s almost dinner time.

Ack!

Don’t despair.  With a little bit of planning at the grocery store, you’ll have everything you need to make emergency stir-fry.

How?

I’m so glad you asked!  Once upon a time, there were several writing buddies.  They decided to create a collaborative cookbook, written from the perspective of writers – and therein lies the story.  To find out more, visit Cook Like a Writer and download your copy for free today.

What is your tried-and-true emergency recipe when you’ve got hungry mouths to feed and very little time?

A to Z Challenge, Day 18: R Is For Rik

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The main character of “Seeking Hearts,” our short story for the Torquere Press 2013 Charity Sips Blitz, is at home in his body and comfortable with his own sexuality.  It’s fun writing a character who has very little angst, because then the angst has to come from the storyline itself – in this case, a mystery intruder.

But first, when we introduce Rik, we got to have a little fun with it.  Check it out:

Heinrick Schenkel heaved the door into the track to lock it and shot the bolt. The sound echoed in the sail dock, with nothing to stop the reverberations but bare stone and sand.

Landing, what a mess! The sands lay churned and rutted from the several sandsails and two corsairs that had left in a hurry yesterday and this morn. But all things end, and Rik sighed with contentment. One whole Daymonth, all to himself except for Opa and Oma.

Even in the deep shade of the sail dock, the sand radiated warmth. The thick walls of the hostel would shield him and his grandparents from the intense heat of an entire month without nights. Rik’s eyes fell on the pile of insulated strips. Only if he reinforced the edges around the shutters. He tried to remember how many windows the hostel had. Why did he promise Opa that he’d do them all? But they had seemed so tired after doing all the dishes from the morning meal.

Oh well, they wouldn’t get done with him standing here. He strode to the pile and grimaced at the sand in his boots. After the shutters were done, he’d run the rake to smooth the sand channels. He gathered a few of the strips and cursed as they caught in his flowing daysilks. Winds, this was going to be a job!

He glanced around the yawning expanse of the empty dock. Sitting down, he stripped off his boots and socks. He grinned, wiggling his bare toes. Standing, he shrugged out of his daysilks, leaving them in a pile of green fabric. Clad only in his short trous, he scooped up a few of the strips.

Much better.

He strode to the two large windows in the dock’s waiting area. As he sealed the shutters, polka music flooded the dock. He grinned. One of the more recent upgrades his grandparents had installed was a full intercom system. It sounded like Opa’s favorite music disc.

The jaunty tunes would make his job go by quicker. On his way to the next window, Rik improvised a few dance steps. Holding the weather strip in front of him, Rik made it sway and dip to the music. He spun and caught a glimpse of darker black in the shadows of the dock.

“Excuse me.”

Rik let out a high-pitched squawk that would have done his kid sister proud, if he’d had a kid sister. The heat flamed into his face as he turned.

Winds! A Seeker stood before him.

What’s your favorite guilty pleasure music that you wouldn’t necessarily want someone to know you enjoy?  (And, bonus question, where do you like to sing? The shower? The car? Karaoke?)

A to Z Challenge, Day 17: Q Is For Quill

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Senior Hunter Quill Mayer, our hero in Emerald Fire, is a scarred man.  Forced to witness the destruction of the town where he grew up, he is raised by his father.  His life partner is killed by a sandcat in the Great Valley.  He finds happiness with Emerald Keeper Teeka.

We are hard at work on the sequel, Emerald Keep, and hope to have it done shortly here (as in by the end of April).  Here’s a little peek at Quill in the new book:

A soft tapping on Teeka’s door stopped him mid-step. Frowning, he changed direction.

He leaned close to the wooden panel. “Yes?”

“It’s me, Pineta. I wanna see the truffles.”

Teeka rolled his eyes. He could hear Pineta’s mad giggles through the door. Experience taught Teeka that Pineta proved to be a hyper, chatty drunk. Any plans Teeka might have of ravishing Quill would be postponed if he let his yearmate in.

He considered his options. “We didn’t get them. It was too late.”

“I think you’re fibbing. You left to get them.”

Teeka grimaced. “No really, they were sleeping. We’re getting them in the morning.”

“Let me say goodnight to Quill then.”

Teeka pulled on his braids. He knew Pineta only wanted to peek inside to verify what he said, but once in the door it would be impossible to get rid of his friend.

He turned to Quill and gestured at the truffles and mouthed ‘hide them.’

Quill pointed at the closet and Teeka shook his head. Landing, was the man sandsick? Trap the truffles in with his wardrobe?

The rapping started again, this time louder. Teeka bit his lip; the last thing he wanted was for Pineta’s antics to attract the attention of Senior Housekeeper Iana.

He cracked the door open. “Say goodnight to Quill and then head for bed.”

“Sure.”

With a hefty push and deft wiggle, Pineta entered the room. Teeka rubbed the shoulder he tried to use to keep the door open only a sliver. His friend put on some muscles during his last Contract. Pineta darted across the room and belly flopped on Teeka’s bed. He grinned up at Quill propped against a small mountain of pillows. Teeka rolled his eyes.

And Landing, but was Pineta drunk.

Quill smiled back at Pineta, making Teeka frown. His Intended better not take seriously Pineta’s early flirting at the party about having a threesome. Granted, Teeka had done them in the past, some with Pineta even, but he didn’t plan on sharing his handsome Hunter. His own possessiveness surprised Teeka.

Before he could suggest Pineta’s departure, the young Keeper squealed.

Pineta jumped off the bed. “Snake! I felt a snake!”

Pillows flew as the truffles erupted. They stamped all over Teeka’s bedsilks, ears flapping while their short trunks scooped up pillows and flung them around. Teeka squawked and backed up, joining Pineta by the wall.

Quill, who was obviously trying not to laugh, met Teeka’s gaze.

“What are they doing?”

Quill snorted. “Isn’t it obvious? Trying to find and kill the snake.”

What’s your favorite imaginary animal?

A to Z Challenge, Day 16: P Is For Pictures

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Cat a’la Bed and Breakfast

We use our cameras frequently for research.  A walk in the neighborhood, the museum, even the park can yield images that stock the image pond.

Case in point: my husband and I went on a mini-vacation to Galena, and the bed and breakfast where we stayed had a cat guardian.

C’mon in!

The would wait outside for guests and shepherd them to the front door.  She didn’t come in, since she isn’t allowed inside the building, but she has her own little shed with a heated bed.

Um, hmm???

You never know what you’ll find on these trips, either; you have to keep your eyes open.

What cool stuff have you found in your everyday environment?

A to Z Challenge, Day 15: O Is For Opa

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Ha.  Not that opa!  I looked on Lolcats for an image to use in my post today.  In German, opa is a term for grandpa; but popular culture has done it again and created a totally different meaning.  And not the one I anticipated – opa is also something one shouts in a Greek restaurant as a toast.

But the cat made me laugh, ergo, he’s today’s maskot.

None of which has anything to do with why I’m writing today!  (Pre-coffee and you get me off track. ~grin~)  In our short story, “Seeking Hearts,” we feature opa and oma, the main characters grandparents.  We had fun with these two, because they’re at an age where they don’t much care what other people think about them and their grandson is old enough to take care of himself.  Oma rescues an animal that becomes her pet and opa placidly goes along.

Opa made caffa tea while Oma hummed as she prepared some food. The heady aroma of grains with spices filled Rik’s nose and his stomach growled. He served himself and Marc large bowls and set them on the table.

Rik watched Oma’s hands fly over the cutting board. Her age did not dull her skill with the sharp blade. Cubes of raw meat precisely squared lined up on the edge.

He frowned and gazed at his porridge. Oma did like to experiment with her cooking. He stirred, his spoon searching for odd lumps. Nothing.

“Oma, are we having stew for lunch?”

“No, dearie, it’s much to warm for that. Why?”

“Wondering why you were cutting the meat.”

“Oh, it’s for Rocky.” Her wrinkled face beamed with pleasure. “He knows his name now and even comes when called.”

When you grow to be a grandparent, or if you’re there already, what will you do?  Travel the world?  Adopt homeless pets?  Terrorize your grandchildren?

A to Z Challenge, Day 14: N Is For Neal

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Your first love.  You’ll always have that special place in your heart for your first one.  Rachel and I wrote Burning Bright and I pitched it at my first writing conference, before I even knew what pitching a book really meant.  I knew business, of course, and that books are business, but somehow the concept of pitching a creative project made my knees turn to water.

Neal Harrison is the hero of Burning Bright.  An ex-Marine, he brought the survivors of his unit back from the mountains of Tora Bora after an operation to find Bin Laden failed and they found something far more deadly:  a Siberian tiger shifter, half-mad with blood-lust and the desire for revenge.  Left behind by the Soviet invaders, he attacked the Americans with a fervor that no one anticipated and wiped out a highly-trained squad of Marine Reconnaissance fighters.

Neal decided to open a restaurant called The Factory.  As business grew, he expanded to a gay bondage club downstairs, called The Basement.  In the process of writing the story, we needed to know where things were in the physical space that made up both businesses.  We scouted around the city so Rachel could get an idea of common building construction here, and we found a candidate (the real building that houses our imaginary restaurant is located not far from my house, as a matter of fact).  Then it was time to get down to business and draw out the space itself.

Doing this allows us to mark where things happen in the books, to develop a more clear idea of the space, and also keep stuff straight while we’re writing – and when we go back, months later, to edit a project.

What are your favorite “tools of the trade” for whatever hobby or avocation you pursue?

A to Z Challenge, Day 13: M Is For Mitch

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Our next book in the Chicagoland Shifters will shift focus from Doc to Mitchell Brayden, one of the tigers in Neal’s unit.  A smartass tough guy, Mitch doesn’t seem like the kind to settle down.  But when he meets Lupe Salazar, his wandering days might be over for good.

He got out a clean-ish t-shirt and some shorts and ruffled his hair. A brief detour in the bathroom took care of everything including his teeth and he emerged to find Mitch talking to TJ.

Jealously flared through him so fast he almost felt dizzy.

“Mornin’,” TJ drawled, sipping from what looked like a brand-spanking clean coffee mug.

“Yeah. What are you doing here?”

TJ did a slow blink and set the Sports Illustrated down. “If I say drinkin’ coffee, you gonna kick my ass?”

“I might,” Mitch shot back.

“Here,” Lupe interrupted, thrusting another clean mug filled with black stuff at him. “Drink. Sit. I cook.”

“‘Drink, sit, I cook,’ huh,” Mitch echoed. He sat. “You do windows?”

“Why? You need them washed?” Lupe asked, craning his head around to peer at them.

Mitch laughed. “Slow down, dude! I’m just kidding!”

Lupe shrugged. “I make eggs and bacon. American breakfast. You like this?”

“I like this,” Mitch told him, grinning.

TJ kicked him under the table.

“What the fuck?” he growled, glaring.

TJ tipped his head at Lupe, like he meant it.

Christ. Worse than a fucking wife, TJ. “What can I do to help, Lupe?”

TJ smiled slightly.

Ass hat.

“Nothing, Mitch. You just relax, let Lupe make food. I clean dishes too.”

“You… dude, you don’t have to do that!”

“Is already done,” Lupe told him.

TJ looked up, and then over at the sink. He frowned and squinted at Mitch.

Like he was supposed to get it.

“Lupe, you don’t have to do the dishes, man,” Mitch told him.

“You said I’m yours, Mitch. I do the dishes.”

He went cold. “Lupe – ”

“Is okay, Mitch. You have a dishwasher.”

His eyebrows went all the way up his forehead and tried to climb clear off his head. “Um…”

TJ stared at him, his face reflecting Mitch’s shock. Mitch shrugged. TJ glanced at Lupe. “Don’t take advantage.”

“Dude!” Mitch protested.

TJ sighed. “Too late?”

Heat flared into Mitch’s face from a blush and he glared at TJ.

TJ just snorted and drank his coffee.

“Toast!” Mitch blurted, and shot to his feet.

“What?” Lupe asked, looking over from the skillet.

Fuck, but it smelled good.

“I’ll make us some toast,” Mitch told him. “You do that, and I’ll… um… I’ll do this…” He trailed off, feeling lame.

“Good idea, there, cowboy,” TJ murmured from behind him.

“Thanks,” Mitch said acidly.

A to Z Challenge, Day 12: L Is For Llamu

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Yup.  Llamu.  Nope, it’s not a typo.  Llamu, or the plural “llamu,” (yes, it’s the same), are an indigenous animal on the planet Persis, where our book EMERALD KEEP is set.  See, here’s how it happened.

The settlers that came to Persis generations ago traveled with livestock embryos so they could, when they found a hospitable planet, have a source of food and fiber.  Alpaca and sheep were some of the animals in the library of genetic material, and sheep couldn’t survive the harsh desert climate.  Alpaca could.  (Hey.  It’s our world, we can bend science how we want to.)  One of the native species reminded the settlers of llamas and alpaca, and thus they became llamu – large animals, bred for their placid personalities and ability to pull heavy carts full of cargo.

Like all animals native to Persis, llamu have the characteristic long proboscis with which they can dig below the ever-present layer of sand to the moisture-rich moss plants (similar to ice plants but without chlorophyll).

Now, those of you who have been reading us for a little while will know we love to do our research.  While doing said research, we like to travel, take lots of photographs, and wander around.  In the course of a writers retreat with our organization, Writer Zen Garden, (which, shameless plug, is open to anyone over 18 to join and has an online forum with members from around the world), we happened upon a farm in Utah that had livestock.

For the record, and to once and for all end the discussion,

THEY WERE ALPACA.

And because I love you, Dear Reader, here are the links for the Writer Zen Garden:

What’s your favorite livestock animal?