Guest post: Aurora Springer

Today I'm delighted to welcome Aurora Springer to my blog.

The sharp-featured gentleman to the left is the Grand Master Athanor, one of the twelve powerful psionicists who between them control much of the galaxy. Grand Master's Game is the second book in Aurora's trilogy, and is released today.

I enjoyed Grand Master's Pawn, the first book in the series, and I am equally enjoying Grand Master's Game. The heroine is not a shrinking Violet, despite bearing that name, and has psionic powers of her own. The universe itself is complex and has a range of races, all bound together by a system of transmats - but the system is breaking down, for no clear reason. By the end of Pawn there is a possble suspect amongst the Grand Masters. In Game, Violet becomes involved in an investigation into what is going on, as well as facing immediate dangers from monsters and humans alike. Is she still being used as a pawn, or is she becoming a significant figure in the game?

Aurora has kindly allowed me to include an extract from the book.

They reached the massive iron gates in front of the ominous black marble façade of Council Hall. One of the double iron gates swung open, activated by Athanor’s aura. Exerting his superiority, the Grand Master stepped inside first. Violet followed him meekly and blinked in surprise. An alien guarded the inner hall instead of the usual armed man in a black uniform. She had not seen this type of alien before. It resembled a yellow slug with tentacles sprouting from both ends of a bulbous body.

The upper ring of tentacles waved and a mechanical voice spoke with artificial politeness, “Do you have an appointment, Sir?”

Athanor straightened and resumed his natural face. His eyes flashed electric blue at his interrogator, “I am the Grand Master Griffin. I bring a missive for perusal by the Council.” He held up the rolled paper with its blue seal. The alien coiled a tentacle round the scroll and dropped it in an ebony box.

The alien guard sneezed and the translator blurted, “Your message will be delivered to the Council at their next meeting.”

Athanor frowned, “By Odin’s eye, the delay is intolerable! This matter is urgent and the next meeting is not scheduled for three weeks.”

“You may ask the Secretary to expedite the delivery. I will check when she is available.”

“Very well! Come with me, Violet.” The letter flew into Athanor’s hand and he strode past the alien towards the inner doorway. Its upper tentacles writhed in outrage at the Grand Master’s unorthodox behavior. The alien wriggled towards the inner door, clearly intending to block their passage. Athanor directed a pinch of psi pressure, and the creature recoiled from their path.

The Grand Master paced down the corridor, his eyes sizzling blue spotlights. Violet trotted to keep abreast of him. His sub vocal grumble, “Stupid formalities intended to prevent action!” made her suppress a chuckle.

They halted in front of a door with the label of Secretary Berthal. Smaller letters under the name proclaimed, ‘No entry without an appointment’. Athanor knocked sharply and pushed the door open without waiting for a reply.

The Secretary was a Jangalorian, a small fur covered animal like a cross between a rabbit and a monkey. She leaped on top of the desk and crouched on all six legs. Her white puff of a tail quivered, and she shrilled, “You cannot enter without an appointment!”

Athanor scowled at her. After one glance at his fierce hawk face and glaring laser eyes, the Secretary curled into a trembling ball.

Violet decided to mediate. She projected reassurance to the cowering Secretary. Then, she attempted to mollify her irate Grand Master. “The Secretary’s only doing her job. She’ll cooperate faster if you speak in a friendlier manner.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and muttered, “You speak to her, my conciliatory pawn.”

Squaring her chin firmly, Violet said, “My Grand Master brings an urgent message for the Council. The Griffin warns of a gross violation of the Council rules.”

The furry Secretary unrolled and jumped onto her six legs. Her tail twitched in fear and she stuttered, “Urgent message from Grand Master Griffin. Give scroll for Berthal to submit to Lord of Lightning, Council Chair.”

Violet carried the scroll to the desk and placed it between the slender fingers of the Secretary.

“The Chair will order an emergency Council meeting to discuss my letter,” Athanor said in his haughtiest tone. He spun on his heels and strode out the door, tugging Violet in his wake. “We’ll see if they appreciate the warning,” he sent her.

As they stepped into the hallway, he murmured belatedly, “Thank you, Secretary Berthal.”

“Why don’t you do the blasting and I’ll do the sweet talking,” she suggested, twinkling merrily at him. He had reverted to his disguise, but his mouth quirked at her words and he ruffled her hair.

The book is available on Amazon.com
and on Amazon.co.uk

I'll add that Aurora's background is scientific - she has a PhD in molecular biophysics and her day job involves discovering scientific facts (all very mysterious!). She also admits that she has been inventing adventures in strange worlds for as long as she can remember - a habit I recognise, being much the same! Her books are character-driven romances set in weird worlds, with a sprinkling of humour. She was born in the UK but now lives in the USA, in Atlanta with her husband, a dog, and two cats that apparently occupy her keyboard (as most cats do!).

If you want to learn more about her or her other books she can be found on Facebook, Google+ or Twitter or on her own blog:

Blog: http://AuroraSpringerNovels.blogspot.com/

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Aurora-Springer/e/B00K2C4NL8

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Aurora-Springer/885945434752937

Twitter: http://twitter.com/AuroraSpringer

Google+: https://plus.google.com/u/0/101087717415198221200/posts

SFFS 11/7/15 Impcatcher

This is my snippet this week for SFFS. SFFS is a place where a number of authors post snippets from their written works, and give the opportunity for comments, support and encouragement. Please also explore the other blogs that are part of this set - you can find the information here.


This is another snippet from Impcatcher. Tal Djandiss, the Impcatcher of the title, has captured a creature and carried it to the market to show to someone.

My favourite sorceress was slumped in her stall in the market, boredom writ in considerable detail across her face. I swung my wriggling horror into her sight. I wasn't sure quite what I'd bagged - it was akin to a centipede, with a dozen legs on each side of its snakelike indigo body.

She looked at my pet. Pest. Sorry, slip of the tongue.

“Most men would offer a girl flowers” she said archly.

“I thought this was prettier.” I let her get a good look at it. “Thought you'd find it interesting.”

She pulled a face at me, but with a hint of a smile lurking in the background. “I have no idea why you're convinced I like unusual, hideous monsters.”

There was an obvious reply. “You like me, don't you?”

She didn't even try to credit my words with a response.

Who says romance is dead? As always, comments welcomed! 

Come back on Tuesday when I have a guest blogger, Aurora Springer, and a snippet from her new novel, Grand Master's Game!
 

SFFS 4/7/2015 Impcatcher

To my American friends, happy Independence Day - but there are more important matters afoot! There are imps on the loose!

This is my snippet this week for SFFS. SFFS is a place where a number of authors post snippets from their written works, and give the opportunity for comments, support and encouragement. Please also explore the other blogs that are part of this set - you can find the information here.


This is the second snippet from Impcatcher, carrying on from last week's opening. Tal Djandiss, the Impcatcher of the title, is in a pitch dark cellar trying to capture - well, take a guess...

There was a swishing sound in the still air as another choice vintage spun towards where my head currently was. I ducked, tripping against one of the wooden wine frames and jamming the neck of a bottle into my ear painfully. I swore, the epithet drowned by the latest bottle smashing on the arching stonework behind me. The smell hinted that this had been a sherry or a port. Another titter of laughter gave me some idea where my tormentor was lurking. If I lunged for it through the darkness, odds were either I'd slam into one of the rough stone pillars holding up the low ceiling or I’d bring another rack of bottles crashing to the rough tiled floor. My employer would not be amused if I wiped out half the vintages stored down here. Of course, if she’d warned me what this monstrosity was like, I would have been better prepared. My net was draped over a crate of wine somewhere in the gloom. I suspected my catching a Vildani red from 2744AA wouldn’t qualify me for my fee. Come to think of it, if this little bastard’s aim improved, my only reward would be an early arrival in the hereafter.

I love my job. Honest.

As always, comments welcomed!

SFFS 27/6/2015 Impcatcher

This is my snippet this week for SFFSat. SFFSat is a place where a number of authors post snippets from their written works, and give the opportunity for comments, support and encouragement. Please also explore the other blogs that are part of this set - you can find the information here.


Today I reveal the first snippet from Impcatcher, the new novel I am in the process of releasing. I haven't yet got a release date, and the cover is still in preparation, but hey, it's progressing! The manuscript is complete and edited - expect to see more about Impcatcher in the next few weeks!

 Without more ado or further explanation, I reveal for your entertainment the first dozen or so lines of the novel.

A high-pitched, manic giggle cut through the velvet blackness of the wine cellar as the echo of breaking glass faded. I took a deep breath, and the alcoholic fumes from the shattered bottle left me feeling light-headed for a moment. I had dropped the lamp when I dodged the missile. Doing this job, there's no way I'd use a modern bound-imp lamp, so I'm stuck with an oil lantern. The glass had not survived the accident, and now the old stone chamber was stygian. A slight clacking sound to my left, like a big rat in tap shoes, hinted at my quarry’s location. It was trusting to the darkness and my lowly human eyes to conceal it. I glowered into the gloom. This had been supposed to be an easy job. Lady Varra had said the tyke was only a recent arrival, a weak little refugee without the experience to be troublesome.

A sudden rattle of movement warned me that said weak little refugee was endeavouring to be thoroughly troublesome.

 Comments welcomed!

SFFS 20/06/2015 Before Sorrel 4

This is my snippet this week for SFFSat. SFFSat is a place where a number of authors post snippets from their written works, and give the opportunity for comments, support and encouragement. Please also explore the other blogs that are part of this set - you can find the information here.


This week's snippet is the last from the old file predating Sorrel. My charter pilot heroine is trying to get her seaplane and her passenger, Alory, off the water and into the air, despite the efforts of a gang of orcs. She has managed to repair the faulty engine, and gets back into the cockpit and starts the engines...

I swung the Duckling around. We had full power, and an aeroplane in reasonably good shape, and relatively clear water. I throttled up… and something slammed into the back of my head. I gasped, trying to keep my grip on the stick. Allory wrenched a dagger from a sheath on his arm and flung himself at the orc in the cabin behind us. Typical noble, weighed down with deadly weapons. Not that I was complaining. I felt sick and dazed, and there were lights dancing in the side of my gaze. I could taste bile rising in my throat. 
 

But there was clear water ahead, now. We were past the rest of the orcs. I increased our speed, angling slightly to give us wide open water to take off. The Duckling was singing along the water, now, moving faster, already starting to lift. I still felt sick and woozy, but clear air and flying speed is a miracle cure for concussion. In my opinion, anyway. 

  As always, comments welcomed! When I was writing this, I had a clear image of the Duckling in mind, mostly courtesy of an old Airfix kit I made. The Duckling was an amphibious two-engined plane based heavily on the Grumman Gosling. It was only when I scrapped this and began work on Sorrel in Scarlet that I chose to have my heroine flying a triplane.

Expect something different next week - the first sequence from my new book, which is well on the way to publication. More news next time!

 

SFFS 13/6/2015 Before Sorrel 3

This is my snippet this week for SFFSat. SFFSat is a place where a number of authors post snippets from their written works, and give the opportunity for comments, support and encouragement. Please also explore the other blogs that are part of this set - you can find the information here.


My snippet this week follows on from last week's sequence. This isn't Sorrel - this is her older sister, metaphorically. She is a charter pilot, on a lake in a jungle, and a gang of orcs are endeavouring to stop her and her passengers taking off. One of the two engines on the flying boat won't start, and she is making a hasty repair...

The orcs were trying to reach us. Some of them were going deeper into the water, struggling to swim out towards us. Most orcs don't swim too well, in my experience. Unfortunately for us, this bunch obviously had a few of the exceptions.

Ignore them, I told myself firmly, and pulled the spanner out from the tool-pouch at my belt. Easy task - no problem - just concentrate. Pipe... nut... injector-valve... sword... Sword? Volging lafquass! The orc's first blow missed - she was trying to pull herself out of the water, left hand on the wing strut, right hand gripping a vicious looking blade. She hacked again, this time connecting with my arm. A leather flying jacket makes pretty good armour, actually, fortunately for my left arm. Not to mention it being a glancing blow. I lashed back at her with the spanner, but she was out of reach. My spanner was only eight inches long - her sword looked more like eight feet long. 

 

 As always, comments welcomed!

SFFS 6/6/15 Before Sorrel part 2

This is my snippet this week for SFFSat. SFFSat is a place where a number of authors post snippets from their written works, and give the opportunity for comments, support and encouragement. Please also explore the other blogs that are part of this set - you can find the information here.


My snippet this week follows on from last week's sequence. This isn't Sorrel - this is her older sister, metaphorically. She is on a lake in a jungle, waiting for her passengers - and she suspects there is trouble approaching.

The port engine spluttered and the prop began to turn. The starboard engine, on the other hand, spluttered and went silent. The Duckling won't get airborne on one prop. I can manoeuvre, if the water isn't too choppy (and this lagoon wasn't too bad), but there wasn't much space. I cursed (I've got a vocabulary that would impress most orcs - not something to be particularly proud of), and yanked the cord of the starboard starter again.

The port engine was running up to speed, the prop spreading growing ripples across the clear blue water of the lagoon, and making the verdant greenery of the jungle rustle as though a thousand chaggers were lurking, ready to pounce. Hmm - not an idea I wanted to think about. Where the volg were my passengers? I had no doubt that they were the cause of the impending trouble. 

The starboard engine coughed, coughed again, and then settled back into slumber. I ran my eyes over the cockpit indicators, trying to remain calm. I had seen movement on the trail down through the jungle. Quite a lot of movement, actually. Not quite a herd of vinbani, but not far off. That had to be my passengers, and whoever was chasing them - most probably orcs - could not be far behind. 

 As always, comments welcomed!