Book Promo
If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. A COMMISSION IS EARNED FROM EACH PURCHASE.*Note that I haven’t read most of these books (my reading is eclectic and “craving led”,) and apply the usual cautions to buying. I reserve the right not to run any submission, if cover, blurb or anything else made me decide not to, at my sole discretion.– SAH
FROM JERRY BOYD: Thus Shook Zarathrustra (Bob and Nikki Book 45)
Sally has finally cleared the new planet. Surely that means it’s ready for people to come and check out, right? Our shepherd still gets a vote. Come see how much effort it takes to get a good, used planet into livable shape.
FROM MARK BOSSINGHAM: Chasing Naomi
July 1969. Clive, Iowa, Earth. Sixteen-year-old Allie has a big decision to make: Watch the lunar landing with her mom in their run-down double-wide trailer or boost to the stars aboard a grumpy, sentient deep space exploration vehicle (DSEV-424) buried in her backyard for 5,000 years.
Accompanied by Gem, a dead space captain, now a glitchy hologram, Allie stops on the moon and surprises Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin aboard the Eagle lunar lander. (Neil never mentioned the encounter to Houston).
With Gem as her guide, Allie survives her first space battle and drops Gem off at a military regrow center in the middle of a spaceport casino. The teen’s adventure lifts off at a military space academy, where she faces danger, makes friends, battles enemies, and discovers her own surprising abilities.
Along with Rin, Sky, and Gem, Allie sets out on a mission to locate and defeat a rogue fleet led by Naomi, a mad-as-a-hatter warship, all while navigating the complexities of growing up and finding her place in the galaxy.
FROM AMANDA S. GREEN: Surtr’s Fury
Twenty-five years ago, the world changed. Rifts opened around the globe, releasing rogue magics that changed everything. Creatures once believed to exist only in movies and books were now real. People who once believed themselves “normal” found their latent paranormal abilities awakened and amplified. The land and creatures nearest the rifts were forever changed, whether for good or ill remains to be seen.
Either my parents had a warped sense of humor or they were forewarned about what my life would be like living as close to the North Texas Rift as I did. Why else name me Ripley after the main character in their favorite science fiction movie? Then they were gone. A basilisk killed my dad and Mom disappeared while investigating reports of rogue werewolves. At least that’s what I’d been told, and I never had reason to doubt it.
Until now. Someone attacked my home and my friends. When I discover who, they’ll learn it is never a good idea to mess with someone who plays with fire, literally as well as figuratively.My name is Ripley Walker, and those responsible for hurting my friends will soon learn the error of their ways.
FROM ROBERT WENSON: Murder at Minstrel Manor: An Edwina Hackett Mystery
“Killed! As in murdered?” With these words, Edwina Hackett launches herself into trouble. Wealthy and reclusive inventor Sebastian Oldfield is found dead in his study on a stormy winter night. There’s no doubt it’s murder: the wounds in his head and the bloodstained paperweight testify to that. And Edwina, who has come to Minstrel Manor to paint Oldfield’s portrait, will let nothing stop her from following the ensuing investigation.
For newly-promoted Detective-Inspector Mallow of the East Fenshire Police, this is his first big case. He finds himself up against a plethora of suspects: the butler with a shady past; the dead man’s enigmatic assistant; the ne’er-do-well nephew who is deeply in debt; and the tenant farmer who had been summarily evicted.
And then there are the questions. How did the murderer get into the study? How did he get out? What is the significance of the illiterate note left under the body? Who has been forging Oldfield’s name? And what role has the mysterious and elusive Barnabas Merryweather been playing?
FROM J. D. COOPER: The Companions: The Bond
In the mist of ancient time, a time long forgotten by most, the Sidhe ruled Ireland. They were small folk, no higher than a mushroom, but they could work mighty magic. Each one was gifted in a unique way. Together they created beautiful works of art and magnificent structures, engineering beyond many modern marvels. Crops were blessed and harvests were bountiful. There was little suffering in Sidhe society for they cared for each other and used their magic to help their fellow Sidhe. For eons past, peace and harmony had reigned throughout the land, even since the foundation of the earth, for the Sidhe arose as an overflow of the creation of their island. Their magic emanated from Ireland itself. There was no Sidhe word for war.
Then, the Milesians came.
Eons passed as the Sidhe were diminished and began to lose their magic. According to an ancient prophecy,, a Sidhe who could make light would restore the Sidhe magic and allow them to live free from fear.
Jayspark was born into a world of diminished Sidhe. His family hid from the bigs until one fateful day when he met a lonely human boy. The two became friends and their bond created a magic that would finally allow the Sidhe to face their oppressors.
FROM HOLLY CHISM: Fire and Forge (Modern Gods Book 3)
Long after their worshipers are forgotten, the gods are still holding up a corner of the bar at the Godshead Tavern. Some have learned since their stories became myths, some never did, and some are still finding old curses coming back to haunt…
Poseidon wants Artemis to lift Medusa’s curse so he and Medusa can resume relations, while Chronos seeks another chance to be whole and get to know his kids.
Meanwhile, Ares falls head over heels for a mortal half his size who manages to kick his ass not once but twice, and Loki’s son is trying to rebuild his life (and his credit) after a short marriage to Pandora.
Life and love runs smoothly for no one, god or mortal. And another disaster is brewing…
FROM MARY CATELLI: Curses And Wonders
A collection of tales of wonder and magic.
A prince sets out to win his way to the dragon’s lair.
A woman fights a curse on her lands.
A man returns to his castle, bringing a magical sword, and worse things.
And more tales.
Includes “Dragon Slayer”, “The Book of Bone”, “Mermaids’ Song”, “Witch-Prince Ways”, “Sword and Shadow”, “Eyes of the Sorceress”, “Fever and Snow” — and “The Emperor’s Clothes”, which is not sold separately.
FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: Spiral Horn, Spiral Tusk
A unicorn’s horn for the king, a medal for the admiral — but what for the lass who makes it possible?
Rissa possesses the dolphin-singer gift, which saved her life when the thief-taker found her. If she can guide the fleet to the white whale with the spiral tusk, she might win back her freedom.
But first she must return to land — and the sea has become angry at her betrayal…
A short story of the Ixilon universe
Originally published in Beyond the Last Star: Stories from the Next Beginning, edited by Sherwood Smith.
Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.
So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.
We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.
If you have questions, feel free to ask.
Your writing prompt this week is: MARVELOUS
According To Hoyt 
“C’est merveilleux!” Passepartout declared, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.
“Marvelous,” Fixx agreed with more than a touch of sarcasm. “Mr. Bellis. Would you mind explaining how this invention of yours operates?”
“Certainly, gentlemen,” the engineer replied. “This, ah, acoustic device can be hidden in a room – perhaps in a receptacle such as an urn or behind a piece of furniture – and will transmit sound to a distance of forty to fifty feet. It does require use of this energy storage device which is usually referred to as a battery; I have been able to design one small enough that it would be easily overlooked in the average room. It will only work for a few hours, but with this matching receiver you should be able pick up the information you need. I will pack it up for you, and please give my thanks to Mr. Fogg.”
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Oh, my, Holly’s cover looks great!
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Marvelous promos.
Too bad that I have most of them. :wink:
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Review them. To encourage others.
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Seconded. Your honest review is one of the best things you can do to help an indie author/
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The new librarians, arriving here, found it more marvelous than that, thought Karlos, checking the mechanism. Then, he conceded, new librarians had not seen a paladin being knighted, still less been knighted as paladins. This was less by contrast.
Though its lack of rust and stiffness was indeed a marvel.
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This is marvelous:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zN6JV2GXyvg
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It was a marvelous sight: not one, but two Yates cotton picking machines making their stately way through the field, whisking up the bolls and leaving the trash behind. Yes, they had to periodically stop to unload their harvest and take on fresh fuel and water, but even with those limitations, two men would be doing what would require dozens to pick by hand.
However, Nick Yates could tell that his audience was as happy as the farmers who’d watched Cyrus McCormick take his reaper through a wheat field, back before the War. Although Mr. Lincoln had freed the slaves, the Emancipation Proclamation had not been able to break the chains on the mindset of so many people down here. The former plantation owners were now called “landlords,” but in many ways they were more “labor-lords.” Their wealth might come from the sale of cotton, but their prestige in their culture came via the system they called “sharecropping,” which bound the freedmen to the land they’d once worked as slaves.
And they know I am an Irishman who fled the Great Hunger, and will not forget that, for all that I lost no time in renouncing all allegiance to Queen Victoria and swearing my oath to this land and its Constitution. Small wonder that I should feel trouble in the air.
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I suppose any Billy Crystal jokes would be pretty dated by now. Too bad.
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On the contrary, they’d be Marvelous.
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“Marvelous! Simply marvelous!” exclaimed Professor O’Malley. Ethan had to agree – it was a spectacular accomplishment. The Magic Studies department had compiled a database of all known magical phonemes and all known ingredients. “Now the real work begins!” said the professor, “correlations and regressions! Statistics are magic in their own right!”
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Ethan sighed. He knew a scientific study of magic phenomena would pique the average person’s curiosity, but few actually knew how grueling a thorough statistical analysis could be. “Dance with the data!” Professor O’Malley had said. “Show me what a marvelous dancer you are. Be the Rudolf Nureyev of statistics!”
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“How marvelous,” said a woman behind her, the voice a murmur like the stream. She emerged from the trees, her eyes vague, but somehow taking in all the scene. “You will do perfectly.”
Cora rushed into the pond, making water splash, but felt magical bonds pulling her back to shore.
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Looking about revealed no marvels, until she glanced up at the clouds, still dark with night. She gasped.
Marlene followed her gaze, to where the clouds, underneath, were touched with gold, under the still lowering darkness. And she gasped as well. “I’ve never seen that before!”
They stood and stared.
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LOL, somebody beat me to the marvelous promos comment. Thanks for the promos!!!
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Angie sat on the porch, admiring the pear tree’s full, white blossoms. Grandma had told stories, heard from her grandma, about such trees filling the land from horizon to horizon.
Now, here was an actual tree, blooming, buzzing with beez, and the promise of real fruit.
Angie smiled; whispered, “Marvelous!”
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Not a writer by trade, but was inspired:
“Sir?” the messenger repeated.
The withdrawal of the Dukes forces was no surprise to the Fortress Commander. His delay until the Regent’s forces arrived was a surprise. But that had sold the ruse more convincingly, enhancing the commander’s reputation within the Regent’s forces.
The Commander replied with a word, “Marvelous.”
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I’m not a comforting kind of person in a bad situation – either I’m trying to do something, however badly, or I’m sulking. I took Karina’s hand, in what I hoped was a friendly manner.
“The creature’s gone for now. I think Maxim damaged it pretty badly,” I told her.
“Horrible,” she whispered. “Horrible!”
“You hadn’t seen anything like this before?” I asked. It was not a smart question. I suppose I thought that the Stormcrows took their children out hunting as soon as they could lift a gun or a knife.
She shook her head. “For a long time…I didn’t believe in these things,” she said. Her voice was a little above a whisper now. “I just thought it was marvelous how the elders found a way to frighten the peasants of Landfall with these stories, and gain power that way, when all other paths to power were blocked. As I grew older, I met more people I trusted who had encountered and fought these things, and I accepted that they were not lying.”
I couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say, so I said something stupid in a soothing manner. “No, of course they weren’t.”
“…But I though perhaps their memories had drawn an exaggerated picture out of stress or fear.” She shuddered. “I was wrong.”
I nodded idiotically. I wasn’t so much agreeing with what she’d said, as coming to a clearer idea of what she was: someone who sat behind a desk and pushed little pieces of information into a bigger picture. She might have some fighting skills against normal humans – she’d seemed confident of her ability to deal with the groom if he got out of hand – but the creatures Maxim hunted so relentlessly had been nothing but a vague and overblown rumor for her, until about five minutes ago.
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