Monday, November 22, 2010

Rat Army... Fact is stranger than Fiction.

People wonder where Fantasy authors get their inspiration? Nature provides so much scope, we don't have to look far afield.Check out this article Attack of the Rats, by Victoria Gill from BBC Earth News.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Back from Holidays.

Although it has been a wonderful week away, with lots of sunshine, sand and surf, the experience has left me exhausted.
With two little ones to share each moment, energy somehow wanes. Their excitement and enthusiasm are elixiors but their energy levels far out match mine. I am thrilled to have shared so many new and wonderful moments with them. Seeing elephants walking single file holding tail in trunk, watching a tiger play ball in a pond, seeing a cheetah enjoy a hand held iceblock make memorable moments. I hope the children remember them too.
A visit to the aquarium, being a hands breadth from a shark, a manta ray larger than my armspan and seeing cheeky otters at play all made for a wonderful day's enertainment. Seals, crabs, seahorses, colourful fish, turtles, lung fish and crocs all mesmerised and fascinated us. A terrific experience for young and old alike.
Apart from the outings to the zoo and aquarium there was the wonderful landscape of the Sunshine coast. Aplty named. The beautiful coastline, mountains, the beaches, parks and pools are perfectly designed to keep a toddler entertained. Sand castles, paddling, playing are all holiday fun, with Grandma enjoying it as much as the kids.
It was a great time and my muse responded to the stimulation. Only with the drain on energy there was very little time to write.
A wonderful time with family.

After a good night's sleep I am writing again.

Friday, November 12, 2010

Links to Exiled Autumn's Peril... copied

  • Edi's Book Lighthouse: Edi's Spotlight: Autumn's Peril by Rosalie ...

    Sep 21, 2011 ... And today I present the review of Exiled:Autumn's Peril (eBook, ... And Exiled:
    Autumn's Peril belongs to my growing list of books from small ...

  • Edi's Book Lighthouse: Edi's Lighthouse Chatter: Exiled: Autumn's ...

    Aug 31, 2011 ... Edi's Lighthouse Chatter: Exiled: Autumn's Peril by Rosalie Skinner ... I received
    an electronic copy of Exiled: Autumn's Peril and started to read. ...

  • Exiled: Autumn's Peril by Rosalie Skinner :: Reader Store

    Aug 31, 2011 ... Exiled: Autumn's Peril. by Rosalie Skinner; Avg. Rating: Not yet rated; Publish
    Date: August 31, 2011; Read Review (); Exiled: Autumn's Peril by ...

  • Ramblings from Lady Rosalie: Extract from EXILED: Autumn's Peril...

    Aug 10, 2011 ... Extract from EXILED: Autumn's Peril... from Museitup bookshop... “Well three
    horses come this way. I can hold the assassin but the rest is up to ...

  • Chronicles of Caleath | Facebook

    Exiled: Autumn's Peril is the first book in Rosalie Skinners's Chronicles of Caleath
    . So before you start reading this one, be aware that it's highly addictive and ...

  • Rosalie Skinner

    Exiled: Autumn's Peril - Book One. Exiled: Winter's Curse - Book Two. Exiled: The
    Legacy of Lathraine's Pledge - Book Three. Exiled: The Battle for Enderseer ...

  • - Profile from Rosalie Skinner

    Look for Exiled: Autumn's Peril as an ebook later in 2011. Check my blog for
    extracts and news closer to release dates. Please feel free to contact me here, ...

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Katie Hines is interviewing me today.

Today I am being interviewed on Katie Hines blog, Walking on Water. Please drop by and see what we discuss.
Katie Hines is the author of Guardian, a fantasy that looks like a perfect read for young and old. I have it on my christmas list.
She does a great interview too. In the near future I hope to have her as a guest here.

Friday, November 5, 2010

The Unhewn Stone by Wendy Laharnar

Thanks for posting on my blog Wendy. I thought anyone dropping by would like to know more about The Unhewn Stone that Museitup will be releasing in 2011.
I loved reading The Gauntlet by  Ronald Welch  and found Wendy's books took me back to those halcyon days. Time travel is always a great start for a story. Wendy's first hand knowledge of the location and depth of interest in the subject combine to form the backbone of this story. William Tell is a major character but his legend is told from a new and delightful perspective. The hero of the tale will captivate readers with his quest.
I am not the sort of person who cries during a movie, and when reading it takes a good story to jolt me out of editing mode. So when I found tears welling in my eyes, only a few pages into this story I realised Wendy's writing has a magic of its own. I won't tell you how or why my emotions were struck but I will say that again at the ending I felt Wendy had achieved a certain kind of magic to complete her tale with such finesse.
The excitement and thrill of time travel, the use of modern knowledge to solve age old problems without disrupting history and the growth and development of the main character make this a terrific story for any age.
I  will be lining up for a signed copy when it is released in August.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Thanks for the Invitation

As one of Lady Rosalie's writing friends, I would like to thank her for inviting me into her domain as a guest blogger. Next year should be quite an exciting one for both of us with our books coming out at Museitup Publishing. Extended excitement for Rosalie who has eight books coming one after the other - the wonderful Caleath Chronicles. There is nothing like a good science fiction fantasy to offer an entertaining escape from the hum drum of everyday life. Rosalie's books take us to a far different world than we have ever imagined, where magic wraps its tenticles around a haunted, hunted hero. You'll be drawn to Caleath and engage in his challenging mission. The first book is due for release in August.
Wendy Laharnar

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

FREE READ Draft: The Quest part FOUR

Earth magic failed to lift Mistral’s spirit to the state of consciousness needed to release the locking spells. With her eyes closed Mistral viewed the border. The insubstantial barrier ripped and buckled where soul daemons tore at the fabric desperate for the moment when Time stalled.  Her energy level dropped. The heat of the day drained her resolve.
With a glance to the vibrant colours painting the horizon as the sun dropped, Mistral turned to face Gimbarra.  “The planet’s spirit is not responding. I need to reach her before I can work any magic.”
“The Earth is our mother, can we help?” The old man’s dark eyes burned like wells of confidence. “She will listen to our call.”
Mistral placed a pale hand over the old man’s heart. His energy vibrations matched the Earth magic. Yarra stepped forward, offering himself in the old man’s place. Mistral touched his chest, feeling the power of his youth and heritage pulse beneath her hand. His energy matched the Earth spirit and his strength surpassed Gimbarra’s.
“I accept your offer. Please, Gimbarra, Morawi, are there others who can help you stand guard. The daemons are close to breaking through. Time is short and I am weak.”
Morawi reached into a fold of her shirt and produced a small metal box. Opening it, lights glowed and she pressed a few tiny buttons, before lifting the device to her ear and speaking. Mistral didn’t waste time wondering how the communication machine worked. With Yarra she moved to place herself again on the dragon focus, with the staff of power clasped in her hands.
“Your heart must be strong. Do not fear the daemon song or their hunger.” She said, guiding Yarra to place his strong hands above and below hers on the walking stick. When he nodded, she inclined the metal horsehead knob toward the border and again sought help from the elements.
Daemons laughed and mocked her efforts. Through contact with Yarra’s skin she shared his courage as the young man witnessed the writhing mass poised to break through the border.
A single breath of sun heated air filled her lungs as Mistral plunged into the state of consciousness needed to weave her magic. Yarra’s presence changed the outcome of her request. The guardian’s need spurred the dormant Earth spirit to rouse from slumber.
Mistral exhaled. Channelling power through the walking stick, she braced before inclining the metal head to make contact with the insubstantial border.
The effect sent waves of energy across the length and height of the barrier. Light flared from the horsehead. Yarra recoiled but his hands remained firm around the wooden shaft. Mistral lifted her head and recited the necessary invocations. Not once, but over and over, as the air, the ground and the border responded to her voice.
Darkness surrounded her. Cold crept through each cell of her body, but Mistral and Yarra lost all sense of Time. The border fabric remained fragile. The daemon laughter grew to manic levels. Mistral’s voice faded from over use.
Time stalled.
Between on heartbeat and the next the fabric of the border shimmered. A dozen daemons clawed through a narrow tear. Mistral cleared her throat and struggled to articulate each word of the locking spells. Yarra now supported her weight on the staff. Mistral turned to look into his eyes. She needed to seal the border against the daemons once and for ever. With a nod of understanding Yarra tightened his grip on the empowered walking stick and when Mistral closed her eyes, together they speared the ancient timber deep into the earth.
Earth magic exploded. The power of the elemental spells Mistral wove combined in a backlash of energy, throwing Mistral and Yarra clear of the blast.
Baked earth quivered. Where her body lay in contact with the ground Mistral sensed the rise of Earth magic, enveloping the wood, spreading through her body and reverberating along the essence of the border. As raw power spread, the barrier firmed and where daemons clamoured and clawed, a solid energy field shimmered into existence.
Where the walking stick touched the ground a circle of black glass rippled before solidifying.   The walking stick ceased to exist, but a glint of silver shimmered in the centre of the glass lake.
Yarra leapt to his feet, grabbed Mistral and glanced to where Gimbarra and Morawi should have been on guard.
Dark skin blended too well in the dark of night. Mistral counted a dozen figures crowding around two bodies.
“We were too late to save them, but we sent the daemon’s packing.” A deep voice spoke with pride. “The story of Gimbarra and Morawi, and how Yarra and the stranger brought Time to a standstill, will be remembered in the new Dreaming.”
Mistral shivered.  She had completed her quest. Now she could return to her own world and let the dragons decide if they would return to help spread magic across this globe.
All she wanted was a hot bath and a week of sleep.

Monday, November 1, 2010

FREE READ Draft: The Quest part Three.

Mistral opened her eyes. The blazing sunshine blinded her and she raised a hand for shade. Pain coursed through every part of her body, but seemed to radiate from her left shoulder. Both  forearms and her left wrist ached horribly. They must have taken the impact of her fall. Her shoulder though felt as though it had been run through with a sword. A feeling she knew too well.
 Shadows moved above her. She tried to focus, rattling off a spell to dissipate the pain and begin healing. Two men and a woman, each with skin darker than the leather of her jacket, watched her. The older man, grey haired and lined by the passing of time, offered her a bowl of water.
“Drink. You are safe now.”
“Safe?” Mistral considered the idea without humour. Unless her quest succeeded ‘safe’ as a concept might no longer exist, for any living being. “How can that be?”
“The men who shot you think you are dead. They have gone away.”
“Someone shot me?” Mistral sorted through the memory of falling from the bike. The explosion of pain. “Did you remove the arrow?”
“Arrow?” the old man shook his head and glanced to the woman.  “Shot with a gun.” The woman approached, holding the weapon Mistral borrowed from the truck stop cook. “Gun, like this. Not arrow.”
“I heard, saw, no one. Daemons will try to stop me. I should have been more careful.”  Mistral berated herself for allowing the thrill of speeding through the night to leave her vulnerable. She should have smelt the daemon taint, but the wind worked against her.  “Beast sped too fast, wind too strong. Not safe mode of transport.”
“You are here now.” The younger man stood with his hands on narrow hips. White teeth flashed as he spoke.  Where his shirt opened at the neck, a bone pendant glistened, white against dark skin.  She squinted, looking into his eyes as he continued.  “We are the guardians. We have waited for your arrival. Watched. Waited. Tonight we heard the dragon’s whispered warning. Found you.”
“Thank you. Do you have transport? We must reach the focus before time begins to loop.”
“My name is Gimbarra. My son, Yarra, my woman Morawi. Your name...”
“Mistral. I apologise, but time is speeding up. We do not have time to spare on healing, or exchanging names. Help me reach the focus.”
“You have been shot. You need treatment else you will not be going anywhere.” Morawi spoke for the first time. Both men nodded. “For now you must rest.”
“I will take care of healing my own wounds, if you can help me travel. Please. We have moved from where I fell. Did you bring the staff? I will need it when we reach the focus.”
“We have been watching and waiting for many generations. You speak of a need for hurry, but nothing has happened for so many years. Why is there a need to rush now? Nothing seems changed from the day before yesterday or the year before that. Out here, things take time. Nothing rushes.” Gimbarra sat cross legged on the red desert dirt as though willing to stay there all day. He held the walking stick in his hands though. Mistral almost forgave him his calm.
Mistral ground her teeth. The pain when she moved over powered her spells. With or without magic, she needed to travel to the focus. Blood no longer leaked from her injured shoulder. She would live. For now. If she failed in her quest, a bullet would be the least of her troubles.
“I will go alone if you are not prepared to help me.” She clutched her injured arm to her side and began the task of scrambling to her feet. “I will find the way.”
“Stubborn.” Morawi offered her hand for support. “We will take you where you want to go, and we will not allow you to be shot again.”
The rusty truck shook Mistral’s bones until she wanted to scream.  Hot air burned her lungs with each drawn in breath. Dust choked every pore of skin that did not stream with sweat. Morawi offered her a clear cylinder of water. The soft outer casing buckled between Mistral’s fingers.
“Plastic.”  Yarra’s eyes rolled. “Not good but very useful. Keep drinking. In this heat even without blood loss you will become dehydrated.”
“How do people survive living here? Is this normal weather or is this from being close to the border?” She slopped a handful of water over her face, before gulping a mouthful of the warm fluid. “It is too hot now, but last night it was so cold.”
“That’s the desert for you. We live here. Our people have done since the time of Dreaming.” Gimbarra lifted a hand from the steering wheel to indicate the vast expanse of wilderness stretching to the horizon. “This is our home. We love this land and know her moods. The border does not change the weather.”
“We are close now.” Mistral let the draw of the dragon focus flow through her. Closer to the focus, her healing spells began to take effect. She risked the energy drain and added a spell to ease the effect of the weather. “Stop here. We should walk the rest of the way.”
“This is not where we have maintained our watch.” Yarra’s brow furrowed over dark eyes. “The circle of stones is still a way off.”
“Here.” Mistral grabbed the steering wheel. “Stop here. Now.”
“All right missy. Settle down. We are here to help.” Gimbarra grated the gears and halted the truck beside a lonely gum tree. “If this is where you want to be... this is where we are.”
Mistral struggled to open the door. She scrambled clear of the truck, ignored the burning sand beneath the soles of her boots and let the power of the dragon focus guide her.
“I smell daemons.” She turned her head, sniffing the hot air. “How often do they escape through the border?”
“We have kept them contained as best we can. Without a constant source of magic we cannot prevent every escape. Occasionally a few make it past our circle. Some are trapped in the rocks and sand here. Others flee and meet their fate elsewhere.” Morawi stood beside Mistral, cocked her head and sniffed. “How do you smell them?”
“A daemon hunter is born able to sense daemon kind. It is part of my blood. Same as I can feel a dragon focus. We are bred for the skills we possess.” Mistral waited for the pain from her shoulder to settle before lifting the short staff. “Can you feel time speeding up? It is about to circle around and swing back on itself. Even the dragons don’t know what effect such an event will have on your world, but we know that the border is locked by a spell that is linked to time. I must reset the lock so it remains viable for the next millennium, or until time again reaches the end of its cycle.”
“Today, of course.” Yarra glanced at the sky, where the single sun hung high above, burning the air with its power. “November two thousand and twelve. We are about to enter a new time of Dreaming.”
“Without soul daemons.” Mistral ran her hands along the short walking stick, traced the design of the horse’s head and closed her eyes. “If I succeed in spinning magic.” She followed Gimbarra and sat cross legged on the burning sand. “This is my quest. To release magic back into your world. At least enough to keep the border closed. Thank you for your help. If I succeed, tonight you will celebrate. If I fail...”
“How can we help?”
“Leave me but keep watch, please. Use the gun if you need to. The daemons have tried once to stop me. They may again...” Mistral allowed her spirit to expand as she summoned aid from the elements. As Time raced to the end of its cycle, she ignored the pain of physical injury and struggled to weave magic.