Saturday, March 9, 2013

Six Days From Alien Refuge






We're down to less than a week is left before the release of Alien Refuge.  Edits and formatting are done, and everything is ready to go to the distributors.  The last two weeks are always a flurry of activity before the book at long last hits your e-readers, and this time was no exception.  It didn’t help that I was very sick with sinus, eye, and ear infections – typical Tracy timing.  :P

However, the antibiotics finally kicked in and the countdown is on.  I’d like to thank Erin Dameron-Hill for another beautiful book cover and Bruce for editing once again.  I’d also like to give Sarah and her son Derek a shout-out for helping me with my martial arts questions – make sure you check the book’s dedication.  ;) 

Plus I’d like to thank my son for inspiring not just the character of Thomas Jenson, but for being an amazing kid.  We just celebrated 7 years of his astounding life yesterday, and every day is a gift.  I’m not sure I always live up to the agreements we made before we embarked on this journey, but Mommy is trying.  Being autistic does not mean my little man is not absolutely perfect.  He is.  I am humbled to have been granted the honor of having this child in my life.

I write BDSM erotica.  I’m not trying to change the world with my books.  I don’t really offer anything more than entertainment and escape.  With this book, however, I am giving you a glimpse into the challenges and triumphs of life with a special needs child, especially one that is so easily misunderstood. 

People on the autism spectrum look like any other person.  You won’t spot anything on the outside that will clue you in that they see the world differently from neuro-typicals.  That’s why it can be so hard to get understanding from others.  Next time you see a child screaming and a frazzled parent who can’t seem to control them, don’t assume you’re looking at a failed parent or a spoiled brat.  You may be witness to an autistic child who has been overwhelmed by his surroundings.  Such children often react to sensory overload with pain or confusion, the likes of which the rest of us can’t imagine.  It can be something as innocent as a too-bright light or a loud noise.  Sometimes it’s impossible to know what sets them off.  I can’t tell you how many times the sight of an everyday product in a store has sent my son into a screaming panic and the resulting glares we’ve gotten from others.   No one ever stops to think there might be more to it than a temper tantrum.  They simply judge and grumble about how the world would be a better place if everyone went back to spanking their kids.

Maybe Alien Refuge will open a few hearts and minds.  I’m not betting on it, but the hope is always there.  If not, those of us with our own 'Thomas Jensons' will always have the fantasy of Clan Ospar, people who look beyond what is on the tumultuous surface to see the beauty and wonder of the children beneath.


Wednesday, March 6, 2013

WIP Wednesday – Clan Beginnings: Clan and Conviction



First draft is finally done!  It’s about time Krijero stopped fighting us all.  Here is his first meeting with Gelan and Wynhod:

            They approached the far back corner of the office space, nearing a desk that was remarkable for its messiness.  Six different vids floated over the flat surface that was littered with the remains of snacks and drinks, three handhelds – two of which looked smashed beyond repair, a scattering of plug-ins, power amplifiers, at least six portable coms along with the desk model, and a still pic of an older clan.
            The man sitting at the desk was no less untidy.  His shock of shoulder-length black hair looked clean, but it was a mess of cowlicks that hid most of his face.  Bright blue-purple eyes peered past the tumble of hair at the vids in front of him, and his fingers moved easily over the keyboard as he inputted information.  His gray tunic was cut well enough that Wynhod could discern the lanky frame beneath it, but it was wrinkled and recently stained, probably from a breakfast mishap.  Wynhod couldn’t believe the man’s clanmates had allowed him out of their home looking such a wreck.
            Gelan stopped by the man’s desk.  “Dr.  Krijero?”
            The guy had been too intent on his work and Gelan and Wynhod too quiet on their approach.  The psych jumped in surprise, one hand skidding across the desk to send food containers, plug-ins, and the one intact handheld to the floor.  As the handheld computer hit the ground with a thud, the psych yelled in frustration.
            “Shit!  Tell me I didn’t break another one of these things.”
            A man sitting at a nearby desk chuckled, shaking his head.  “Supervisor said if you did, it was coming out of your pay.”
            “I know.  Damn it.”
            He picked up the handheld, fussing with it until it came on with an obedient click.  He blew out a relieved breath, making the strands of hair in his face drift outward to show pouty lips.  “Good.  It still works.”
            The other psych snorted.  “For now.  You’re a disaster, Krijero.  No way it will last the week.”
            The gleam of white teeth appeared behind that mass of hair.  “Are we wagering, Jomik?”
            “Bottle of leshella.”
            “You’re on.”  Krijero finally stopped bantering with the other man to blink up at Gelan and Wynhod.  He shook his hair back for an instant, and Wynhod looked into a very handsome face.  A sweet face, remarkably innocent of guile, the gentle openness an instant giveaway that Dr. Krijero was one of Kalquor’s Imdiko breed.
            Wynhod swallowed.  Then Krijero’s hair fell forward again, hiding the right half of that lovely face, lessening the effect somewhat. 
            The psych looked at them with confusion.  “Oh, hello.  Did you want something?”
            Gelan was staring at Krijero, his brows drawing together as he regarded the Imdiko.  It made Wynhod wonder if his partner had been as caught off guard by the good looks of the red-hot mess of a man in front of them.
            Sounding bemused, Gelan answered, “You’re the psych working my case.  Delir.”
            The one eye not covered by hair widened, and a delighted smile appeared.  “Oh, yeah.  What a great case that one is.  No witnesses, no real evidence.  Pure brain candy,” Krijero enthused. 
            Wynhod felt Gelan stiffen next to him.  The Dramok’s arms crossed over his chest.  His voice low with anger, Gelan said, “Deadly ‘brain candy’, Imdiko.  A lot of people have been killed, including my former partner.”
            “Yeah, that was awful.  Sorry about that.”
            Krijero’s tone sounded flippant, and he seemed to realize it right away.  His face reddened, and he stammered, “Oh, that didn’t come out right at all.  I really am sorry about your partner.  The Delir shit is completely bad news.”
            A laugh sounded behind Wynhod.  He and a now fuming Gelan turned to the man who’d made the bet with Krijero, the one identified as Jomik.  He smiled indulgently at the Imdiko.
            “Krijero, shut it down before these two kick your ass.”  With the voice of diplomacy, Jomik told them, “Don’t mind him, Investigator, Enforcer.  He doesn’t mean any harm.  Krijero is as smart as they come, but the stupidest things come out of his mouth.  He’s got the tact of a hungry zibger.”
            Wynhod looked at the Imdiko again to see Krijero scowl at Jomik.  “Don’t make excuses for me.”  With an embarrassed grimace, he told Gelan, “I sincerely apologize.  Now let’s talk about your case.”
            Gelan raised an eyebrow at the swift shift from apology to business. Wynhod felt every bit as flummoxed by the behavior of this odd Imdiko.


Release date possibly May

Sunday, March 3, 2013

Six Sentence Sunday – Clans of Kalquor 7: Alien Refuge






Ospar said, “Rivek does have much success with calming even disorganized minds that have none of your son’s potential.  Isn’t that right, Jol?” he added with a smirk.

The Nobek stared at him.  “Yes, I’ve noticed a great change in you since he came along.  Your recovery has been miraculous.”

Ospar pulled a face, and Iris had to laugh. 

Releasing March 15

Saturday, March 2, 2013

March 2013 Update





Clans of Kalquor 7:  Alien Refuge – We are two weeks away from release!  I am getting back the edits and am working hard on corrections (guess who forgot to run her spellchecker?  Sorry, Bruce!).  March 15 is nearly here.

Clan Beginnings:  Clan and Conviction – I am finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel with the first draft.   One more day’s writing should have that part done.  Even my stubborn Krijero could hold out only for so long.  I am now hoping for a May release, if all goes well.

Nuns of Europa:  Sister Katherine – Outlining is done, first draft started.  Look for this one in the summer.

To Protect and Service:  Ravenous Virtue – Over halfway through the first draft.  The first of the trilogy inches along, but it is coming nicely.  Some things you simply don’t rush.


New Year’s Challenges

Start a new book each month:

(January)  Clans of Kalquor 8:  Alien Caged – I’m about halfway through the outline.  Older heroine and an older clan facing new dangers to the Empire ... this one is a challenge but an interesting one.

(February)  Clan Beginnings:  Clan and Commitment –Finished with the plotting of Clan Rajhir’s story.   Could it be that Rajhir accidentally clanned Breft?  Maybe!  I’ll know more as I outline.

(March)  First Mataras:  Michaela – Started in-depth character sketches yesterday for this one.  Intersex Michaela Blake is courted and won by Clan Korkla in the face of danger.  I’m not sure how far this will extend beyond the events of Alien Rule.  My muse isn’t telling me yet.


The Couch to 5K Running Program:

 Holy smokes.  When I started this, I was positive I would never see it through.  I did miss out this past week having been brutally sick in bed with a vicious sinus infection.  However, I can now run for 25 minutes at a time for almost 2 miles.  I have lost 17 pounds in the process, which isn’t hurting my feelings one bit.  I no longer want any of you to do me the favor of killing me if you happen to see me jogging...that alone is a miracle.  Thanks to those of you who sent encouragement.  I’m told I am now officially a runner.  Who would have thought?

Take care, all!