May 7 2015

From ECHO 8: One of Sharon Lynn Fisher’s Favorite Scenes

I’m interviewing Sharon Lynn Fisher over at USA Today Happily Ever After, about her latest science fiction romance novel Echo 8.

Here’s the story (courtesy of Tor Books): Three lives. Two worlds. One chance to save them all.

As a parapsychologist working for Seattle Psi, Tess has devoted her life to studying psychic phenomena. But when doppelgangers begin appearing from a parallel world that’s been struck by an asteroid, nothing in her training will help her survive what’s to come.

After dislocating to Seattle Psi from the other Earth, Jake is confined by a special task force for study. But when he drains life energy from Tess, almost killing her, it causes a ripple effect across two worlds – and creates a bond neither of them expected.

Ross is an FBI agent ordered to protect Tess while she studies Jake. His assignment is not random – he and Tess have a history, and a connection the Bureau hopes to use to its own advantage. By the time Ross realizes his mission could be compromised, it’s already too late – he’ll have to choose between his love for Tess and his duty to protect the people of his own Earth.

Veronica: One of my favorite questions to ask in the USAT/HEA interviews is whether the author has a favorite quote or short scene from the book they’d like to share. The excerpt below was Sharon’s first choice, although we ultimately had to go with a different, shorter one for the column. But I thougt it’d be a shame not to share her first choice over here on my blog:

Sharon: As the author, my favorites are mostly super intense, and might not play well out of context. But I like this early scene because it helps to establish the dynamic among the three main characters.

“He’s been asking for you,” called Agent Perez when she saw Ross coming.

Ross moved to Jake’s door, glancing through the square window. He jumped back when Jake appeared behind the glass, inches away.

Ross punched the intercom button and reached for his sidearm. “Back off.”

“I want to know what’s going on,” demanded the fade. His eyes flitted nervously from Ross to Perez. “Where’s Tess?”

The last thing Ross wanted was to hear her name in the fade’s mouth. “Not your concern. You keep quiet in there and maybe no one shoots you.”

Jake’s features contorted in anguish. “Did I kill her? Please—I don’t understand—”

The fade’s head swiveled, like he’d heard something behind him. His body practically hummed with nervous energy, reminding Ross of his methaddict brother. Except there was nothing sunken or hollow about Jake—not anymore. The bastard was brighteyed and fully charged.

Jake’s gaze anchored on Ross again. “Am I some kind of—vampire? I felt like I was sucking the life out of her.”

“You were.”

“Is she dead?”

Ross took in Jake’s distress and allowed a pinprick of compassion. “She’s not dead. Not yet.”

Jake squeezed his eyes shut. “God . . . why didn’t you just shoot me? Why don’t you shoot me now?”

Ross studied the fade—darkblond curls, narrow forehead, brown eyes, short beard curling over chin and jaw. He was about Ross’s height but thinner, and closer to Tess’s age.

“You want me to shoot you,” Ross replied, dubious.

“Why did you let her get so close? You’re a Fed, right? You have to be, dressed like that. Were you supposed to be protecting her or what?”

Jesus. Ross felt like he’d been punched. He slipped his weapon back in the holster and turned to go.

“Hey!” called Jake. The intercom was still on.

Impatient to get back upstairs, Ross hesitated before turning. A part of him could empathize. What a position to suddenly find yourself in.

“What she told me,” said Jake, “—the alternate universe thing—is it true?”

“Probably. It’s a theory.”

“Based on what? I mean, how can you know something like that?”

“We can’t, not for sure. But they’ve questioned enough of you to piece it together.”

Jake chuckled darkly. “I thought she was nuts. Or I’d wound up in some purgatory for suicides.”

Ross lifted an eyebrow. “You killed yourself?”

Jake’s lips set, and he glared at Ross. “I’m finished talking to you. If she lives, I’ll talk to her. Shoot me if you want to. I don’t [expletive!] care.”

Veronica: I found it to be an exciting, unusual story and I hope you’ll hop over to the actual interview on USAT/HEA. Here’s a photo of Sharon inside the now-scrapped ferry Kalakala, which plays a part in the novel.

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May 6 2015

Mothers for Wednesday Whimsy

With Mother’s Day coming this weekend, and being a mother and grandmother myself, I figured that was the best topic for today’s Wednesday Whimsy. Oddly enough, I don’t have that many Victorian trade (advertising) cards featuring Mothers. I guess I haven’t been looking for them specifically. I did find a number of historical mothers and children on cards in my collection, so here they are for your enjoyment!

My mother was the most beautiful woman I ever saw. All I am I owe to my mother. I attribute all my success in life to the moral, intellectual and physical education I received from her. George Washington

The love of a mother is the veil of a softer light between the heart and the heavenly Father. Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness. Honore de Balzac

My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it. Mark Twain

Children are the anchors that hold a mother to life. Sophocles

When your mother asks, ‘Do you want a piece of advice?’ it is a mere formality. It doesn’t matter if you answer yes or no. You’re going to get it anyway. Erma Bombeck

I think, at a child’s birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift should be curiosity. Eleanor Roosevelt

When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child. Sophia Loren

My mother told me to be a lady. And for her, that meant be your own person, be independent. Ruth Bader Ginsburg

I’m a mama’s boy because everything I do is with respect to my mother. I won’t do a movie or a video that would bring disrespect to my mother. Mr. T

Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. Ambrose Bierce

There are only two things a child will share willingly; communicable diseases and its mother’s age. Benjamin Spock

I always tell people that I became a writer not because I went to school but because my mother took me to the library. I wanted to become a writer so I could see my name in the card catalog. Sandra Cisneros

And of course here are three of my favorite mothers from the works of Beatrix Potter!

May 3 2015

All I Remember Weekend Writing Warriors

Here’s the link to the Weekend Writing Warriors central page, so you can visit all the participants sharing excerpts today…A fun way to sample new books and find new writers!

We’re onto a new story of mine, a WIP that still needs a lot of work. Mark, an ex-Special Forces soldier in the Sectors, has been hired by the Outlier Empress to rescue a kidnap victim who’s been taken to the border planet Freemarket, where anything goes and the authorities are usually hands off. Kind of like Las Vegas…he’s broken into the house of Barent Kliin, the kidnapper, persuaded Alessandra to go with him and fled in a stolen car, pursued by the bad guys and the planetary police. They collided with a cargo hauler…Mark knocked the driver out and assisted Alessandra from their wrecked vehicle, after which the couple flee into the crowded marketplace but are now trapped…until a strange little being showed up, offering to help…having no choice, Mark and Sandy flee with the creature and fall into a tent. The owner of the tent offered them the opportunity to Travel…not in a groundcar or a or a spaceship…three weeks ago she showed them the Globes of Amarkana. Now Mark has picked one and shattered it and they Traveled.

The first time Mark opened his eyes, the world was still swirling around him, so he blinked hard, hoping to quell the vertigo. His head ached like he’d been on a three day bender with cheap rotgut, his left shoulder felt like someone had stuck a jagged knife into it and his stomach was on fire with cramping pain. Murmuring reassurance in a soft voice, the medic who was treating him tugged at his right shoulder.

Mark half opened his eyes to see her, preparing to tell her with a blistering string of profanity to just let him die in peace of whatever this was. But even through the dizziness and nausea, he was startled to see Sandy, not a Sectors medic. Pressing an inject to his bicep, she said, “I hope when you wake up next time, these symptoms have worn off – I don’t think you were as good a candidate for Traveling as Lajollae thought.”

Vague memories returning, he said, “What happened? All I remember is breaking the globe and then a whole lot of hot wind – like being in a sandstorm.”

So, the story goes on from there….they’ve ended up in a very strange place and a lot of adventure, romance and some second chances lie ahead. You’ve all been so kind about enjoying the snippets, I’ve moved this up in my schedule and will work on revisions for this next, after Star Cruise: Marooned, which I’m trying to get to my developmental editor by next Saturday. Ghost of the Nile went to the copy editor on Wednesday, so I’m making progress!

Not sure what I’ll excerpt next week – we’ll all have to be surprised together, I guess. Best wishes!