SFR Brigade Summer Café - Week 4

Androids and Aliens

And a couple of cyborgs for good measure

 

 

 

Cooking by the Seat of Your Pants 

 

     Like my writing, I cook by the seat of my pants. It's just a little of this, some more of than and last time there wasn't enough cheese, so I'll add a bit more pepper jack. In a new WIP, I might start out with an outline, even make up a stack of 3X5 cards. I know where my story is going; I just don't know how I--or my characters--are going to get there. And somewhere in the "mushy middle", I invariably re-plot the ending.

 

     So it is for my cooking. At some point in time, I had a recipe for this dish, but I've changed it so many times, I don't recall what the original was. The only things that don't change are cheese and eggs. Sometimes I add onions and potatoes, as in the one below. Other versions have been sausage, peppers and onions or onions and broccoli, or asparagus, or any vegetable you like and happen to have in the refrigerator. Feel free to make your own personal version of it.

 

     I know, if you're one of those people who has to have a recipe to follow, this is going to drive you crazy. I'll bet you're a plotter, too.

 

 

Chris' Potato and Cheese Frittata

 

     You'll need an 8 inch heavy cast iron skillet and a non-stick fry pan. A small carton of low-fat, low-cholesterol egg product (to balance out the hi-fat, hi-cholesterol cheese), a small white onion and a can of pre-sliced, cooked potatoes (so I cheat, I don't have time to slice potatoes, I've got a book to write) and a package of finely grated cheese (of your choice, but it has to be real. That fake stuff just won't melt right). Sauté your thinly sliced onions and the potatoes (separately) in the non-stick pan. Grease the iron skillet liberally and place over medium heat. Pour in about half an inch of egg product, then layer the onions, potatoes, cheese and more egg until you finish up just short of the edge of the pan with enough egg to cover everything. Cook slowly, lifting the edges periodically to let the uncooked egg on top flow underneath. Cook to about three quarters done, then top with a nice thick layer of more cheese (hey, I didn't say this was low calorie) and place it under the broiler until golden brown.

     This is great for Sunday brunch, served with fruit, a muffin and cuppa tea, hot, Earl Grey. Along with your favorite book. It should serve 2-3, depending on their appetite, but left-overs warm up nicely and work well for supper with a salad.
 

And now for something entirely different. 

A first look at Cypher, the second book in The Dragon's Bidding Saga 

     "No.” The strength of his denial, contradicted the confusion in his eyes. “I’m….”

     “Who? Who are you then?” asked Fitz.

     The elegant features twisted. “I don’t know. All I remember…”

     “Do you remember anything before you woke up in the medical bay?”

     “I, ah…. You, I remember you, Gray Eyes. You were there, bending over me when I opened my eyes. I wanted to crawl inside those silver orbs and stay with you forever.”

     “But nothing before that?”

     “No.” The word seemed to hurt him.

     “That’s because you didn’t exist before that second. You’re just a scrap of programming that Dr. DeWitt slipped into Wolf’s computer while they were doing the augmentation upgrades. It overwrote your personality. Tritico paid the cyber-tech to hijack your body. He figured you were the only person strong and smart enough, with the access to kill Ari and he wanted her out of the way, so he could go on doing business the way he always had. He programmed you to kill her.”

     She stroked her hand down the side of his face, felt the scratch of whiskers. “Come back with me, Wolf. We can pull the program out. Stop it now before anyone else get hurt.”

     He flinched back from her touch. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your Wolf. And I’m not just a piece of bad code. I exist, damn it. I’m human, I have emotions and I want to stay alive.”

     "We’ll figure something out. I promise. We won’t just delete you like a random cypher…."

     “Cypher. I like that.” He trailed his finger down her throat. "No more Wolf. Call me Cypher.”

     His mouth claimed hers, hard and hungry, his tongue forcing its way past her lips demanding her response. All the anger, fear and frustration of the past few day ignited a laser bright heat inside her, fusing her mouth to his. He pressed his body against her, pinning her to the wall. When the need to breathe drove him to lift his mouth, he searched her face, his eyes hooded and dark with passion.      “You don’t seem like the type to seek hard anonymous sex in Warren back alleys. Who is this Wolf to you? At first, I thought you were his bodyguard, just an augie charged with protecting him, but it goes a lot deeper than that, doesn’t it?”

     “You…Wolf is my bonded partner. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get him back.” She lifted her hand, displaying the thin platinum ring circling one finger. Her index finger held a second, larger band. “These are our bonding rings. I’d never heard of the custom before, but you…Wolf… said it was common on his home world Willcommin. I kept yours… his, while he was undergoing the implantation surgeries.”

     “Bond-partner, huh? Lucky man.” He kissed her again, softer this time. It ended too soon for Fitz.

     “You told me once that you would be by my side for a long as I would have you. Even for all eternity. I need you to keep that promise now.”

     Cypher shook his head. “I’m sorry, Gray Eyes, but I can’t do that. Although, I’ll admit that kiss almost made me change my mind. The truth is, I’ve gotten accustomed to this body. It’s quick, strong and smart. And easy on the eye, if I’m reading your emotions correctly. I’m going to need all those attributes when I come after Ransahov again.”

     Fitz raised her chin and put as much frost into her gaze as her aching soul would allow. “If you do, I’ll be forced to stop you. Don’t make me do that.”

     “You might try, but I don’t think you’ll succeed. My advice would be to stay out of my way. I’ve already stolen your Wolf’s body and maybe after the Emperor is dead, I’ll come back and claim his woman.”
 

Look for Cypher, coming soon.

A Hero for the Empire, Book One of the Dragon's Bidding series now on sale at the following:

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Samhain

The Cat Made Me Do It

by Christina Westcott

 

Since the long ago day I discovered Space Cat Meets Mars in my local library, I’ve loved science fiction and fantasy. So I guess it was natural that when I tried my hand at writing, I’d choose space opera. My stories were always less about the technology and more about the people, how they interacted and cared about each other—even if some of them were aliens. Sure, there was adventure and danger, but my characters were often motivated by the emotions they felt for each other. They wanted to save the universe, but more importantly they needed first to save each other, because they were in love. I labored for years, receiving many letters from editors. You know the ones—“We liked this, but…” Eventually I found some success in writing magazine articles, but fiction remained my elusive first love. 

Once again, a cat stepped in to show the way. In my local Barnes & Noble, while perusing the science fiction section, I came across a book with a cat on the cover. I decided to take a chance on it. It had cats in it; that alone was worth the price. It turned out to be the first science fiction romance I’d ever seen. The echoes to my own stories were astounding and heartening. Not only did it have adventure, space battles (and of course cats) but it had love. And (gasp) sex scenes, right there on the page—actually no, they were usually in bed. 

I was hooked. 

Now my long literary pregnancy is over and those chance encounters with cats have led to the release of my first SFR (Sci-Fi Romance) this month, A Hero For The Empire. Are there cats in it, you ask? Bet your whiskers.

 

BLURB:

Cybernetically augmented Kimber FitzWarren has been given the task of locating a missing military icon, Arianne Ransahov, but the only person with a clue to the woman’s whereabouts is mercenary, Wolf Youngblood. The Empire just attempted to assassinate him because of this knowledge, so when Fitz shows up in his bedroom at 0-dark-30, he’s less than happy to see her. She explains she isn’t there to kill him, but to plead for his help. Help he’s reluctant to give—until another assassin comes after both of them. 

The two set off on their quest along with Fitz’s sentient starship, Lizzy, and Wolf’s telepathic cat, Jumper—who’s a cross between Chewbacca and Garfield. The action is non-stop, with our heroes escaping one Imperial trap only to face another danger, then another. But there is enough time for the pair to fall in love. Hero for the Empire is good, old-fashioned space opera in the style of Star Wars, Firefly or this summer’s blockbuster Guardians of the Galaxy.

 

I’ve always thought that when man went to space, cats would follow him. Their lithe bodies are built for flying in zero gravity and their paws grip with the tenacity of Velcro. Now if we can just figure out what to do about that pesky cat litter in zero gee… 

Cat have always gone adventuring with mankind, accompanying us on voyages of discovery, riding on merchant vessels and have even following us to war. There’s the story of Oscar, the German cat who was aboard the battleship Bismarck when it was sunk in 1941. He was rescued by a British ship, which was itself sunk four months later. Only to be rescue again and—you guessed it—sunk again before the year was out. Eventually, his name was changed to Unsinkable Sam and he was retired to an old sailors home in England. 

In that tradition, the cats in my imaginary worlds, ride aboard starships to protect their crew from frainies, a particularly nasty mind parasite. Fearless space cat, Jumper, does battle with The Enemy to save the hero and heroine.

 

EXCERPT:

   Now The Enemy had come aboard this ship and wanted to kill his person. That would not be tolerated.

   Five fuzzy globs of light drifted out of the common room. Jumper saw them as dirty gray spheroids of wiggling tentacles tipped with organs to locate the thoughts of their prey. His green eyes narrowed, a hunter’s growl rumbling in his throat.

   The powerful muscles of his hind legs hurled him among them, claws slashing, jaws crushing. He hit the deck and rebounded, tumbling and slaughtering until only one remained. It flashed away and down the stairs to engineering. Jumper spit out the foulness of his last kill and soared after it.

   He grabbed the handrail on the stairs, slowing his forward momentum and peered down into the room. A glowing ball of frainies a meter across churned in mid-air. Was it a trap? He’d heard stories of cats swarmed by The Enemy and killed, but were they true? Or only cautionary tales to keep high-spirited kittens in check?

   The puff of fur on his behind twitched as he tried to lash his non-existent tail. Jumper leapt, screaming his battle cry. He was a Gold Dragon and this was, as the mercenaries liked to say, a target rich environment.

************

 

 You can catch her and her herd of cats on her website at christinawestcottauthor.com or on

facebook.com/chriswestcott33.

Buy A Hero for the Empire at:

Amazon   

Barnes & Noble   

Samhain

The Soundtrack of Your Book

 

 

Can A Sexy Super-Soldier, a Mercenary and a Telepathic Cat Save the Galaxy?  

A Hero for the Empire

 

The Soundtrack of Your Book

Every great movie has an equally stirring soundtrack. Where would Star Wars be without Jon Williams’ exciting music or any cinematic love scene not accompanied by a background of lush strings? And just like any sweeping film, your book deserves its own soundtrack. 

More than any other stimuli, music affects our thoughts and moods. Filmmakers are well aware of this fact and use music to full advantage when heightening the emotion impact of a scene. Don’t believe it’s that important? Watch any romantic or adventurous sequence with the sound off and see if it doesn’t lose a huge part of its emotional impact.

You can’t package a soundtrack with each of your manuscripts, but you can use this trick to supercharge your own passions while you write. Build a play list of music that represents each strong emotion you want to express—danger, love, sorrow. If you don’t know where to begin, select a movie that expresses the feelings you’re searching for and build from that. Pick a title song as if you were scoring a film, melodies to represent each of your main characters and even a love theme. 

If you’re one of those people who can’t write to music, don’t despair. Listen to your play list while running errands, cleaning house or walking the dog. You’ll soon come to connect this music with your manuscript so intimately, that every time you hear it—be it in the mall or the grocery store—you’ll be transported into the world you have created. When you sit down to write, take a few minute to relax and listen to the appropriate play list. Open your mind and let the images come. And then write.

I write space opera romance, filled with interstellar battles and gun fights between the love scenes, so my play lists contain a lot of loud, exciting music, particularly power metal by bands like Nightwish and Epica. During the edits on my last book, my editor had requested a change in a fight scene near the end of the book. I completed all the other revisions, the manuscript was due back the next day and I still had nothing on changing that scene. I plugged my action/adventure play list into the car’s CD player and hit the Interstate. North of my home, the highway runs flat and relatively straight for 14 miles (31 klicks) to the next exit. From there I turned around and returned. By the time I pulled back into my driveway, the entire scene was there inside my head and all I had to do was dash to my office and write it down. 

Music can do that, break down all the creative blocks and let the creativity flood in. Not always, but when it does, it’s magical. Here’s an excerpt from my newest release, A Hero for the Empire. See if it doesn’t read better with a little heavy metal in the background. Either “Unholy Trinity” by Epica from “The Score-An Epic Journey” or “Storytime” (instrumental version) by Nightwish from Imaginaerum works for me.

The freighter abruptly rolled to the right. Red lights rippled across the control panel. Alarms wailed. With a thruster out, the Loki series glided like a block of plexisteel dropped in a bathtub. Their angle of descent steepened precipitously. Wolf managed to bring the ship out of the roll and feathered the throttle on the remaining engine to keep them level. 

When her hearing returned, Fitz could hardly understand him through the ringing in her ears. “Ship, give me a revised course to the bloody landing site. Can we make it there?” 

Lizzy’s answer was obvious as the plot recalibrated on the tactical display. Their new course passed directly over the city toward the mountains. It ended abruptly about half way up one of the peaks. 

“I’m afraid not, Colonel.” 

“Find me a pass or valley or something to fly this piece of shit through. Otherwise, we’re going to have to put down on this side of that range. The only place that looks good to me right now is the ocean, and I’m not keen on going swimming today.” 

“There.” Fitz pointed out a break in the line of peaks just before Lizzy put the new course up on the display. “Can we make it through there?” 

“Perhaps,” the ship answered. “If we can maintain this altitude. Colonel, change your heading to three-five-zero.” 

As Wolf eased the nose around to the new heading, Fitz eyeballed the slender defile ahead of them. This far out, it looked impossibly narrow with a tangle of trees crowding the gap between two vertical rock faces. Half way through, the passage doglegged to the right. She wouldn’t want to fly through that in a perfectly good shuttle, let alone a crippled freighter. 

“Jumper. Box,” Wolf snapped. For once, the cat didn’t argue. His claws scrabbled on the deck plates, and the door to his carrier slammed. 

“Fitz, activate your crash web.” He fought with the controls, not waiting to see if she obeyed him. 

Cocooned inside the restraints she would be unable to do more than watch. “Not yet. You’re going to need my help with the ship.” 

“I don’t need your help. I need you safe. Activate the web.”

At her touch on the button, the restraints boiled out of the edges of her seat, enveloping her and contracting. She felt trapped in a vat of thick cold pudding. A clear shield covered her face, sparing her a sense of suffocation and allowing her to communicate. 

“What about you?” 

He shook his head. “Someone has to fly this shit box.” 

As much as she’d rather see him safely ensconced in the crash web’s embrace, she knew only he could take the ship through that defile. A coldly logical computer, Lizzy would never have considered such an unlikely course. It took a slightly mad and very ballsy human pilot to pull this off.