This is a brand new WIP, so new it doesn’t even have a title; I’m just going with ‘Tane’, the name of the main character. Original, huh? There’ll be something catchy and sharp later. For now, just a teaser, you know, for Teaser Tuesday.
This is 8 sentences from the WIP prequel to ‘The Vista’. It’s leaning much more towards the romance than the action adventure, even if these 8 don’t show it. My thought is, the events of ‘The Vista’ would have happened entirely differently if Shannon didn’t love Mac and visa versa. I’m hoping this prequel gives a little insight to why the main characters are they way they are.
Want to find a whole batch of #8Sunday posts? Here’s your link.
And now – 8 sentences from ‘The Vista: Blackout’ (working title, I hope I come up with something else).
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He switched over to the station’s com system. “This is Duncan, I need qualified Dispatchers on the floor now.”
“Sir, I’m fine . . . “ Shannon began.
“You’re not being relieved; you’re considered a secondary team. I want you patrolling the boundary of The Vista a minute after your replacement is here. You’re not cleared to leave the city, Officer Allen. Tonight, a whole class of rookies are going to make sure no one sneaks into The Vista. In this case, it is absolutely not better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission – do you understand me?”
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Joe Kawano sent me this bright & early!
Check out Weekend Writing Warrior blog for many other #8Sunday bits – something for everyone.
An excerpt from ‘The Vista’.
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“I thought we were done doing this,” she said quietly, suddenly very distracted from their mission and Security matters.
“I was mistaken,” he told her. “Dance with me.”
Shan deposited her sidearm on the bookcase shelf with the least amount of his scattered belongings before joining him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Mac put his hands on her waist and they swayed with the music. After a few minutes, she rested her head on his shoulder.
“You don’t have to play sappy love songs to get me to spend the night.”
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Check back here for release dates. Soon!
With my first novel getting close to being online, I had to figure out a few things – the cover being an important issue. Having scrolled through hundreds of books in the same genre I noticed a lot of stock covers in use and knew I didn’t want that. A fabulous internet friend (hi EJ!) who happens to be a couple books ahead of me on the internet learning curve has offer invaluable advice. She said a custom cover was the way to go.
After a bit of research I connected with an artist, Joe Kawano. We emailed, we did some PMs, and things got moving. This is the very first sketch.
Joe made sure to explain how the process progresses and that this was a mock-up for him to work from. The finished cover would look pretty much nothing like this.
After some personal glitches on both ends and getting through the holidays, we got around to some more PMs and polishing the details.
This Monday, I received an email from Joe with this picture attached. He is taunting me!
So very close. In the meantime I’ve been lining up the other things I need to get this project finished. If I have any advice to offer as a first-time novelist or to anyone new to publishing online, I’d say do your research. Find out what’s involved. Get ahead of yourself. Do the ‘impossible’. I should have gotten to some of the details sooner, but I didn’t know. You can learn something new every day.
‘The Vista’ is almost a reality now. While I’ve been concentrating on this, I’ve also got the rough draft of a prequel about half finished. It will be a novella and promises a few surprises. So, let me introduce you to the world of ‘The Vista’.
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Team Three has a secret, one they think they’ve kept from all but a select few colleagues. They couldn’t be more wrong.
Allen, MacKenzie and Wade are Vista Security’s top officers, part of the first generation post-WW3. Their secret – they are genetically enhanced and psychically connected. Hidden away in an enclave in the Rocky Mountains, they’re also at the forefront of the movement to see what’s left of the outside world.
As they attempt to learn the truth, their presence makes them targets of a vicious renegade with the means to destroy everything they know. Facing exile or worse, Team Three has short time to figure out who is enemy, who is friend and how to save their home and themselves.
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Excerpt from ‘The Vista’
A storm moved in after nightfall, the rain almost ice as it fell from a black sky. No thunder, sparse lightning and that was the worst part of it – the broken, eerie silence between downpours. Shannon didn’t like being in the city for any reason. Twice a week, four months a year she was anyway. It was her job. They might say ghosts weren’t real, but most of ‘them’ had never spent a night in the long dead place. Sometime after midnight, she gave in and headed for home.
Crossing the Continental Divide, the rain turned to snow, huge white flakes splattering on the windshield and not melting. The road was mostly clear. Static on Shannon’s radio was thick, but moments later, she understood two words. Code Seven. Active aggressive incident outside the outer perimeter, but active aggressive still. She kicked it into overdrive and came down the mountain full tilt, pushing the car and pushing her luck on a road known to devour Scouts.
Then the outer marker merely went ‘blip’ as she passed it. If there was an alert, proximity warnings would have gone off all over Security. Alarms should be sounding in Dispatch and her car. She stared at the radio for a moment, realizing what she had stumbled in to.
Wargames. The call-out wasn’t real.
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I knew before I got to high school that I wanted to write books. I did, too, dozens of short stories I thought someday I’d turn into novels. Oh, how I wish I had those spiral notebooks full of wild ideas and teenage musings.
I still have the ideas of many of those stories – some of them make me cringe. A few will become something more as I add books to my list of those that are published.
For now, I live in the desert and many nights, in between writing and sleep, you can find me out watching the stars. It’s dark, out here in the desert and I can see so many stars that weren’t there before. I make time to write now. The tiny seeds of stories demand that I write them down.
I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy creating them.
It was a guillotine. I axed over 5000 words because I’d gone off describing things and getting into aspects of world building that just don’t matter to this story. Although this puts me a bit behind on my schedule, I’m back on-track.
‘The Vista’ will be out before the end of March, so you’ll see a lot of promos going on for that as soon as I know when. I’m not joking myself about getting ‘Blackout’ out in April, but May looks pretty good.
Back to words now.
Lyssa Peate has found a tenuous balance between her double lives – the planet-discovering scientist and space pirate bounty hunter named Razia. No longer on probation, Razia still struggles to be thought of as more than a chocolate-fetching joke, and Lyssa can’t be truthful to those closest to her. But both lives are turned upside-down when feisty government investigator Lizbeth Carter shows up to capture the same pirate Razia is after.
Lizbeth’s not interested in taking Razia’s thunder; rather, she convinces the caustic bounty hunter to help solve a mystery. Somebody’s hiring pirates to target government ships, and there’s a money trail that doesn’t make any sense. From the desert planet of D-882 to the capital city on S-864, the investigation leads them deeper and deeper into a conspiracy that reaches to the highest levels of the Universal Government – and to one of the most painful chapters in Lyssa’s past.
The room was dark, with a single, dingy lamp hanging over a table where three men sat, each holding a hand of cards. They said little, except for the occasional grunt or movement to tap their grungy mini-computers to up their ante. The first sighed and rubbed the scruff around his chin. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter.
“You hear that Llendo is running for re-election?” he said, cigarette dangling from his mouth.
“What else is new?” The short, squatty man and whose toes barely brushed the floor, threw a few chips into the virtual pile using his mini-computer. “The guy’s a puppet. There ain’t nothin’ that comes out of his mouth that ain’t been sent through the ringer about a million times.”
The other two men chuckled and shuffled around their cards. The third man, with a long face and sallow complexion, pulled two more cards for his own hand and shuffled them together and apart again.
“But who else is there to vote for?” he asked, counting his cards and stacking them together again.
“That general? You know that buffoon Peate works for him. He ain’t getting my vote until I know he’s gonna play along.”
The second shrugged and said, “Nobody’d vote for him in a million years.”
“You and your millions.” The third rolled his eyes. “Everything you say has been done a million times.”
“Bah, can it,” the first barked. “And hurry up and make your move.”
“I’m taking my time. Don’t want to get fleeced again,” the third said. “You’re all a bunch of crooks.”
“Takes one to know one.” The second man peered at his cards through a pair of thick glasses, hunched over.
“I am retired,” the first man said, sitting back and taking a long drag of his cigarette. “None of that piracy crap for me anymore. Getting too dangerous for me.”
“Gonna break a nail?” the second snorted. “Bad enough you got that girl. Whatsherface.”
“I hear she’s doing all right,” the third said. “Kidnapped Jukin Peate’s brother and held him for ransom last year.”
“And what’s she done since then?” the second said.
“More than you’ve done.”
“I’m just saying, it’s unnatural to have a woman out with the men,” the first said. He paused for a moment and began to smile. “Although I can’t say I hate seeing her scamper around ‘882.”
“Shame she doesn’t wear tighter pants,” the second said. “I seen pictures. She wears these baggy things. I bet if she wore something that made her look like a girl, she wouldn’t even have to fight nobody.”
“She could come capture me any day of the week. I don’t care what she looks like,” the third said. “I’d lay down and let her do whatever she wanted to me.”
“Care to test that theory?”
The three glanced up sharply at the sound of a distinctly female voice in the doorway.
“Hey, hey,” the first man said, standing up. “We don’t want no trouble. We’re retired here, lady.”
“You are,” Razia said, stepping into the light with a smirk on her face. She turned her eyes on the third man in the room. “He isn’t.”
S. Usher Evans is an author, blogger, and witty banter aficionado. Born in a small, suburban town in northwest Florida, she was seventeen before she realized that not all beach sand is white. From a young age, she has always been a long-winded individual, first verbally (to the chagrin of her ever-loving parents) and then eventually channeled into the many novels that dotted her Windows 98 computer in the early 2000’s. After high school, she got the hell outta dodge and went to school near the nation’s capital, where she somehow landed jobs at National Geographic, Discovery Channel, and the British Broadcasting Corporation, capping off her educational career with delivering the commencement address to 20,000 of her closest friends. She determined she’d goofed off long enough with that television nonsense and got a “real job” as an IT consultant. Yet she continued to write, developing 20 page standard operating procedures and then coming home to write novels about bounty hunters, teenage magic users, and other nonsense. After a severe quarter life crisis at age 27, she decided to finally get a move on and share those novels with the world in hopes that she will never have to write another SOP again.
Another bit from the novella WIP ‘The Vista: Blackout’. Book 1 will be available shortly. I mean within a couple weeks. It’s killing me, waiting!! Anyway.
Previous post. This one isn’t immediately after the last, FYI and to avoid confusion.
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“When we go back out there, do what I say, when I say it,” he spoke quietly. “No fucking around on code calls.”
“Got it Capt. MacKenzie.” She might break up the monotony on any given normal day with a stunt that would make senior officers laugh or cringe, depending on their mood at the time. This wasn’t one of those days. She’d learned the tactic from him. “You know how serious I am about Security.”
“Just as serious as Wade, just as serious as I am. I had to say it.”
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