Renegades: Ghost Story is live! If you’d like to purchase it, please visit the following links to either Amazon or Smashwords or visit the Buy My Books page on this blog. Renegades: Ghost Story is the fourth book of the Renegades series.
Renegades: Ghost Story will be available from Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Sony, and Apple soon!
The excellent author Larry Corriea has an important public service announcement for all true fans of science fiction.
Here is the cover art from the awesome Robert Brockman
Renegades: Ghost Story will be out tomorrow. It is the fourth novella in the Renegades series. This one follows the perspective of Eric and if I had to pick favorites, it would probably be the novella I enjoyed writing the most. I’ll be doing a book bomb for it tomorrow (Tuesday) at noon, MST. So if you plan on buying it, buy it then. If you haven’t read any of the Renegades novellas yet, you can pick them all up individually for a dollar. Yes, just a dollar. Each one is good for a few hours of light, enjoyable reading, or (at least through Amazon, so I’m told) you can return the book. So why not give them a try?
Here’s the short synopsis:
Erik Stryker is a former Centauri Commando; highly lethal and experienced in combat on a dozen worlds. He’s had almost everything taken from him, his family, his career, and his team. He and his companions have broken out of an alien prison, hijacked a ship, and are en route to human civilization. A chance encounter with a derelict ship brings up ghosts of Erik’s past and awakens something which preys on ships and crews. Erik will have to face his own ghosts if he wants to save his new team.
Renegades: Ghost Story will arrive on Tuesday the 21st. Here is the synopsis:
Eric Stryker is a man on the run with a past that haunts him, which has led him to his current rag-tag companions. They’ve escaped from the xenocidal alien Chxor, hijacked a ship, are headed for human space, and they’ve even selected a captain for their motley crew. Yet on the edge of human space, the margin of survival is as thin as the blade of a razor.
When they encounter a ghost ship, the crew awakens a threat. Something awaits them, something that preys upon ships and crews as they ply the void. It will test the fragile alliances of the crew to the breaking point and beyond. Eric will have to bury the ghosts of his past to face that danger… or his past will bury him.
Renegades: Ghost Story will be available on Tuesday (21 January) on Amazon and Smashwords.
I’ll be doing a book bomb for it on the 21st, at 12 noon, mountain standard time.
I’ve added a short story to the Free Fiction area. The story is called “Runner” and it is something of an origin story on Run from the Renegades series. It was interesting and challenging writing from his perspective, and I hope that you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Feel free to make any comments about the short story on this post, I’d love to hear your input.
As far as other updates, Renegades: Ghost Story is set to come out early next week. I’ll be planning a book bomb when it comes out, so if you plan on picking it up from Amazon, please do so on or around Tuesday, 21 Jan, around noon Mountain Standard Time. It’ll also go up on Smashwords, and from there to B&N, Kobo and the rest. I’ll post the Blurb and Cover for Renegades: Ghost Story this Friday (17 January).
My novel, The Fallen Race, is on track to come out at the end of that week. Right now it is forecasted for Friday, 24 January. Again, I’ll be trying a book bomb, looking at 12 noon (MST) on Saturday, 25 January. While the Renegades series is more of an exploration/adventure SF story, the Fallen Race is military science fiction. I discussed it with Jason Cordova in my interview at Shiny Book Review. The interview is here for those who want to read it.
Lastly, for those who enjoyed the Echo of the High Kings previews, I have good news. The novel will be coming out on Amazon next month, and for the first three days, it will be free to purchase. I’ll have to make it exclusive to Amazon to do so, but I’m conducting a kind of experiment to see if that will allow me to boost sales, and compare it to my sales of other books. Look for Echo of the High Kings to come out in mid February of 2014.
Going with my decision to write up movie reviews for science fiction and fantasy movies, I feel I must review 47 Ronin. That said, while I enjoyed the movie, I feel a little conflicted. On the one hand, it was enjoyable, in and of itself (a popcorn movie, but fun), in a lot of ways I feel it didn’t do the original story justice. While I’m not extremely knowledgable about it, I do have at least a passing familiarity with the history as well as the original fictionalization: the Chushingura. The movie 47 Ronin is loosely based upon actual events that occured in the early 1700’s. Notice, I said loosely, because in the original story, there is no halfbreed, trolls, monsters, or evil witches.
These things, I feel, were added to make the movie more flashy, and less of a historical drama. That kind of thing can draw audiences, but the story of the Chushingura is one that, in many ways, can stand by itself without flash (ie, lots of special effects, huge explosions and weird pirate towns).
In 47 Ronin, they went for the flash and, in many ways, they succeeded. It is a fun movie, with lots of amazing scenes. There were a few times where I felt like they did a scene just to give it the feeling of a comic book, much like the movie 300. 47 Ronin has a solid story which sticks (mostly) to the original, other than the prementioned additions. The reasons for those additions are extreme at times, but looking at them from the perspective of a writer, I can see why they made those additions, even if I don’t agree with them. The additions, at least, are ones which are internally consistant and maintain the flow of the story.
The movie doesn’t pull any punches and doesn’t try for a happy ending, which I appreciate. Though only lightly explained in the movie, the dedication and loyalty of the samurai is there to be seen. Though I wish there were more characterization of them as individuals, as a whole, they come across as men who follow an iron-bound code of honor in an imperfect world… and they know that sometimes the right decisions are ones which will require sacrifices. Their unflinching focus on duty that forced them to make those sacrifices is what makes the story so powerful. Personally, I think it is a story that resonates very well with western cultures, the draw of duty, the necessity of revenge, and the idea of self sacrifice.
The movie captures this, often with small, yet poignant, scenes. Sometimes those scenes are between the action and sometimes they are right in the middle of it all. All in all, it was an enjoyable movie with several underlying themes which I appreciated, and it sparked an interesting discussion on the way home from the theater.
This being a SF/Fantasy blog, I thought I should comment on The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug. I’ll preface the review with one minor note. The Hobbit was the first Fantasy novel I ever read. In many ways, it set me on my own unexpected journey, and it will always hold a special place for me. That said, I’m not one of the types of people who requires a movie to be an exact replica of the book it was based upon, so that has also had some effect on how I viewed the movie.
The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug manages to make a full length movie (very full at over 160 minutes) out of what was a relatively small section of The Hobbit. They do this through the addition of scenes that were not in the book. To make this clear, they weren’t in the book, but some of them are referenced in the book or in JRR Tolkien’s notes. Some of these scenes and even characters are made up for the movie.
They do this to develop the film from an adventure set from Bilbo’s perspective into a much grander thing. In the book, The Hobbit, we know there is this greater world, of which we only see the smallest portion, and then only through one character’s eyes. The movie expands upon this, while staying true to Tolkien’s concept of Middle Earth.
All that aside, it was a lot of fun. I’m not the type to see movies twice in theaters, but I did with this one. I think that the character development and story arcs are what made the movie so great, for me. The special effects were nice, and the story was good, but special effects seem to be easy enough, anymore and I already knew what was going to happen, seeing as I read the book and all. The characters are where the movie makes its money. The first stirrings of the One Ring’s pull on Bilbo. Kili’s interaction with Tauriel. Thorin’s internal conflict between ambition and responsiblity. Even Gandalf has moments of character development as he is forced to weigh his duties to his companions versus his duties to all of Middle Earth. These characters are those we come to care about, and makes them far more real, for their conflict, suffering, and hardships.
The big reveal on Smaug was excellent, though at times, with the vast scale of the dragon and his domain, it is difficult to put him to scale to a man, dwarf, or even hobbit. I left knowing he was big, really big, but somewhat uncertain as to relative sizes. My only complaint, about Smaug, is not the graphics, or the sound of his voice, or any of that. Smaug seems a little to much the cliche villian, given to long, profound monologues while he lets heroes get away. Maybe it’s just me, but he seemed far more clever and conniving when he and Bilbo had their battle of wits in the novel.
All in all, however, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie.
A third installment from Echo of the High Kings. The section covers a skirmish between Lady Katarina’s followers and some of Duke Hector’s men.
Aerion set his back against the tree and took a deep breath. Through the trees, the squeal of pigs and the rumble of wagons carried. He listened to that sound, and he waited. For a moment, he remembered his home. Aerion remembered Old Taggart’s voice, rough and low, filled with caution, as if every word were some precious coin to spend. He remembered the smell of his mother’s apron, the scent of stew and bread, and of smoke from the wood fireplace in the inn.
And then he remembered the fire, and the screams.
At that moment, a clear trumpet clarion sounded as Gerlin signaled the attack.
Aerion leaped from behind his tree, and immediately spotted the wagons, only thirty feet away. He ran forward, hands clenched on the greatsword. One of the guards on foot, raised a drawn bow, arrow pointed at Aerion. The guard released just as Aerion stumbled. Aerion felt the arrow’s fletching kiss his neck.
The guard reached for another arrow. Aerion felt his world narrow, as everything but that guard and his bow vanished. He felt his legs pump him forward. His heart raced, a steady drumbeat that drowned all else out. Aerion felt a cry of rage and fear open his mouth, but he couldn’t hear it, couldn’t hear anything.
The guard, knocked another arrow. The mercenary seemed to move in slow motion. He raised the bow, drew it back.
And then Aerion had closed the distance. He swung the sword downward, all memory of his training lost, he swung the four foot blade like an axe.
The sword struck the mercenary between his right shoulder and his neck. The blade chopped down through his simple leather armor, and a fountain of blood erupted.
Aerion stumbled back, spitting blood and suddenly sickened. He had to tug hard, foot pressed against the corpse to pull his sword free. Some motion sensed as much as seen caused him to turn. He ducked under a spear thrust and caught the shaft just behind the barbed head. Aerion pulled hard, and suddenly stood, face to face with a blonde bearded mercenary, his eyes wide, pupils dilated.
Aerion saw him release the spear, hands going for a dagger at his waist. He brought the pommel of his sword up into his opponent’s face. The mercenary stumbled back with a cry.
A shout made him turn, and he saw one of the Jasen on the ground, a brutish looking warrior above him with an axe. Aerion lunged forward, sword extended.
The iron tip of his sword skidded off of the axeman’s chainmail. Aerion continued his move and slammed his shoulder into the larger man’s back. The axeman stumbled away, and Aerion stumbled back.
Another man, his face drawn in a rictus of hate, swung a sword at him. Aerion brought up his sword to parry, and a shock went down his arm. The beserk warrior swung again, and again Aerion blocked. He kicked out, desperate to get some room to move, but his opponent caught the blow on his shield and continued his wild attack.
Again and again the madman battered at him, Aerion desperately swung his larger sword to block blow after blow. He backed away, tried to gain some space, but his attacker didn’t slow his own pace, and continued to press him.
His feet caught on something. Aerion fell back over a still body. Aerion hit the hardpacked road on the flat of his back. The impact drove all the air out of his lungs. Aerion brought his sword up to block as his opponent swung a powerful overhand blow.
The sword struck just inches above the crossguard with a sound like a hammer striking glass, the brittle iron of his sword snapped.
Aerion held the stump of his blade up in shock as the berserk warrior above him raised his own blade for the finishing blow. Aerion kicked out hard. His leg struck his attacker’s knee, which bent backwards with a horrific crackle.
The warrior dropped with a scream, and Aerion stood, still clutching the stump of a sword. The beserker still swung his sword at Aerion. He crawled towards him, maimed leg dragging. Aerion saw Jasen, a bloody gash down the side of his face, drive a spear down into the beserker from behind.
“Grab his sword, boy!” Jasen shouted. He pointed over Aerion’s shoulder. “There’s more of them, ancestors know where they came from, but they’re attacking lady Katarina!”
Aerion felt a jolt of ice water pump through his veins. He looked over, just in time to see eight horsemen push through a cluster of fighting.
He saw her then. She stood in the middle of the road, only twenty feet away. She had her sword in her left hand, something else in her right. She looked like a scene from a story. She stood like a savage warrior princess, her dark hair back in a braid, her chain shirt spattered with blood.
Aerion blindly reached down. His fingers found the hilt of the sword that had nearly taken his life. He charged forward. Jasen had already run ahead, but Aerion’s longer legs easily outpaced him.
He sprinted past Lady Katarina, just as she raised her right hand. He heard her shout something as he raced past. He couldn’t hear her words over the roaring in his ears and his own labored breathing.
One of the horsemen reared before him, and swung down with a blade.
Aerion ducked under the horse’s head, then thrust up on the horseman’s left side. He felt the lighter blade skitter off the horseman’s greaves, then catch and plunge up under his breastplate.
The horseman sagged, just as the frightened horse sidestepped.
Aerion jerked the blade free and turned, just in time to see two more behind him. Time slowed again as he saw the nearest had his hammer raised, about to descend upon Aerion. Aerion tried to force his body to move out of the path, but he didn’t have time.
He heard Lady Katarina shout something, her high, clear voice cut through the shouts and screams.
Aerion watched the hammer descend, saw his death in that swing, with no time to move out of the way or block it.
Then the world flared white.
So, this is more of an update on my current writing schedule than anything else. I’m a bit behind on getting things out (for which I deeply apologize). On the other hand, I have the minor disclaimer that life has been extremely busy, between me transitioning from one duty station to another in the Army, getting married, the honeymoon, and a variety of other things. Frankly, I’ve had to prioritize, and since my wife is very well armed and knows how to handle knives, swords, guns, and other dangerous items, naturally, my priorities have focused on the wedding and honeymoon planning.
Thankfully, she also reads science fiction and fantasy, so she’s understanding and tolerant of my writing.
That said, here’s what I’m working on, and my best guess as to when I’ll have it out, as far as I can see over the next year.
Renegades: Ghost Story is the fourth novella of the Renegades series. I should have that out in early January. Right now I’m waiting on a cover from the awesome Robert Brockman, who somehow finds time for that kind of thing on top of his normal job.
Echo of the High Kings is an epic fantasy novel, set on the world of Eoriel. I’m doing the final(ish) rewrites on it right now. My goal is to release that in February. As something of an experiment, I’ll enroll it in one of Amazon’s programs and do a free release, so if you’re looking for an epic fantasy to get your teeth into, well, it’s hard to beat free, right?
The Fallen Race is the science fiction novel set in the same universe as The Renegades. I’ll be releasing it once I complete the final edits, hopefully in the next month, possibly as early as mid January.
I’m also working a compendium of the Renegades novellas, complete with some additional content which I’d like to release sometime in February. This will include the first four Renegades Novellas as well as three new short stories (to include one set from the perspective of Anubus) and will be released as paperback and ebook.
The next novella in the series, currently titled “Renegades: A Murder of Crowe’s” will be out not long after that.
The next three Renegades Novellas after that aren’t written yet, but they are outlined as “Out of the Cold”, “Assassin”, and “Privateer” and will be arriving between March and August of 2014.
I’ve projected the novel Fenris Unchained for a summer release, though that may shift dependent upon the rewriting I’ve got to do on that.
The sequels for Echo of the High Kings and the Fallen Race will finish up the year, and if I find the time, some additional Renegades novellas.
So, that’s what I’m up to. Along the way, I’ll be moving, transitioning to yet another job in the Army, and generally trying to balance everything.
And, to continue sections from Echo of the High Kings, here we have a brief piece with Katarina, daughter to Duke Peter of the Duchy of Masov. This section comes a year after the events of the first preview section.
Katarina moved with quiet feet down the dusty passage. She hiked up her dress as much as she could, even as she worried that the hem would catch the dust and suggest that she hadn’t spent the afternoon at her studies.
Not my fault that the scholar fell asleep, she thought, though she felt a twinge of remorse that she’d eluded her newly assigned Armsman. Then again, as rare as free time had become, she felt far better for the opportunity to explore the hidden passages below the castle… and for the opportunity to slip into the nursery and apologize to her little brother.
As if on cue, she came to the intersection of the hidden passages. One way led deeper into the maze of corridors and the other led up to a door that opened into the nursery. “Best to talk to my brother, first,” Katarina muttered to herself. She gave a slight sigh, though, before she started up the corridor.
She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. She knew that, for some reason, he looked upon her with some envy. As the eldest, she had some privileges that he must think marvelous. In truth, however, she envied him. At eight, he had already been introduced into the martial chamber. The Master of Arms had already begun his training and as a boy, he would train every day until combat became something of reflex and muscle memory. He had already begun to learn sufficient runic magic to operate various relics and weapons of the Ducal House.
As a girl, even a nobly born girl of thirteen years, the Duke allowed her only the basic arts of self defense and studies of runic magic sufficient to operate only the most basic runic items. I’m the heir, but I’m still only a female, and little Peter doesn’t realize how much I envy him.
That still didn’t excuse her mistreatment of him earlier in the day. She’d no cause for her words, despite her frustration. She dearly loved her little brother, and her recent movement from the nursery had only made her realize how much. Her father, always so distant, spoke with her only in passing. Her mother had seemed to withdraw into herself even more after her old armsman was sent away… and had ceased to take any visitors not long after Katarina moved into the woman’s quarters of the castle.
Little Peter was the only one who cared for her and she knew that her angry words had hurt him more than his childish petulance deserved. So Katarina would make it right.
She reached the hidden door and paused a moment to listen. This one opened into the small storage room at the end of the corridor, she knew. Katarina had discovered it first, when she’d needed some place to hide from her tutors. Her explorations had led her deep beneath Castle Emberhill in the five years since.
She paused as she heard what sounded like a muffled cry. Katarina frowned, and her fingers dropped to the two wands tucked inside her dress skirts. Technically, they were her mother’s, but Katarina had learned to use the two wands last year, and her mother had never realized that Katarina had kept them rather than putting them back.
She’d practiced with them too, though she’d had to find a quiet spot out in the countryside to do so, and timed it with thunderstorms so that it didn’t attract attention. Well, other than the time I missed, she thought sheepishly, and it’s not like the entire forest would have burned down.
She shook her head and pushed the concealed door open. Whatever the noise she’d heard, she didn’t hear anything else. She set her lantern to the side and moved through the small storage room. She paused again at the heavy wooden door. She opened it just a bit, and then froze when she saw movement.
Her fear at discovery turned to something else as she felt the blood freeze in her veins. A tall man stood with drawn blade just down the corridor, his back to her. At his feet lay Maran, the old nurse who had changed her diapers and brought her her meals. Her mouth and eyes were wide and she lay still in death, her face twisted into an experssion of pain. The broad spill of bright red blood and the red stains across her simple dress made it clear how she’d died.
Two of her father’s armsmen lay further down the corridor. Katarina bit into her knuckle to hold back a shriek when she saw several more armed men. All of them wore strange scale armor, and the cut of their clothes seemed odd to her, as did their golden skin and strangely curved blades.
And then she saw one of the men step out of the open door to her brother’s room. He grunted something in an odd language even as he wiped blood from his sword with what looked like a stained boy’s tunic.
The cold ice in her blood flashed into white hot heat in a heartbeat. Her light thirteen year old body could not have kicked the heavy wooden door hard enough to knock down the warrior beyond. Yet a moment later she stood over his prone body and leveled her wand with a scream.
A wave of fire and destruction swept down the narrow corridor. For a moment, the image lay seared into her brain, burned into the back of her eyelids as her brother’s murderers burned to ash.
The moment passed and Katarina blinked away tears as her eyes tried to adjust.
She felt an iron-hard hand clamp around her mouth. Her hand went to her second wand, but her attacker’s other hand grasped it and held her still. The man I knocked down, he must have captured me, she thought. Still, she struggled, she would not let this assassin kill her, not without a fight.
“Hold still, damn you, girl,” a gravelly voice spoke. “I’m not one of them, I’m here to help!” The voice teased at her memory, until she recognized it as her new armsman. She hadn’t heard Bulmor speak more than twice in the past week, but it sounded like him.
She froze and when she ceased to fight, the hands pulled her back into the storage room. The hand over her mouth let go long enough to pull the door closed.
“What’s happening? Is… Is my brother dead?” Katarina asked. She hated how her voice broke, yet in her mind she saw Peter still and cold in a pool of blood like poor old Maran.
“I think so, lass,” Bulmor grated. He released her and she turned to face him. “Those were Vendakar, probably paid mercenaries.” His face, when she looked at him in the small dark room, looked to have been carved of stone. “Do you know a passage that leads out?” He took up her lantern in one hand.
“Yes…” Katarina frowned. “Shouldn’t we head up, though? Find my father… my mother!” She turned back towards the door, ready to run to warn her mother, but his iron strong hands locked on her shoulders. “Let me go! I have to warn them!”
“Stop and think, lass- my Lady, I beg you, think!” For a moment his voice broke from the gravel strength and some raw emotion leaked through. Katarina realized then that Bulmor feared for her. All of a week on the job, and her new armsman already viewed her survival as essential.
That realization bored through her and forced her to stop and consider. The nursery lay at the center of the keep itself. It was the most heavily defended area and any attackers would have to fight their way through the other living areas to get here first. Any warriors who had arrived here must have already fought through her father’s armsmen…
“No…” Katarina froze. “That can’t be, it’s not possible.”
“My lady, until we know more, we have to assume they’ve already overrun the entire castle. We must leave. You seem to know these passages… how do we exit?”
Katarina felt an icy hand clench on her heart. Her brother was dead… and her last words to him had been cruel and childish. Her parents were dead… everyone she had ever known, Erik, her father’s armsman, Tomus, her mother’s armsman… had the old scholar Mattews been murdered as well? Had they killed him as he dozed in the library, surrounded by his old scrolls?
Why had they died… and why did she still live?
Kal Spriggs 