Fruits of our labors

Now we’re well into summer, the back yard looks a lot different. All those empty veg beds are now overflowing with green!

The small beds in the foreground are our herb garden. Several varieties of mint trying to escape the first one, then what we call the “poultry bed” - sage, rosemary, thyme, oregano amongst others. Parsley, green and red onions, and chives, and several varieties of lettuce spread out among them all.

The long bed next to them holds raspberry canes – no fruit this year but hopefully next summer – and strawberries. Then we have 8’ high archways of wire mesh across the last two beds supporting a variety of beans. Runners, French beans, and a purple variety, along with snap peas, broad beans, and several tomato plants, and a monster zucchini taking over one corner.

It’s been marvelous in the last month popping out to pull a lettuce for salad, or handfuls of herbs to liven up a meal. One thing we’ve sorely missed since moving out here is our fresh beans. French beans are available but usually not very good, and we love fresh tender runners, which I’ve not seen here at all.

 

 

A lot going on

2024 is shaping up to be the year of big projects.

For starters, once winter eased off it was time to finish off the raised vegetable beds I started making last summer. Now they’re filled with soil and irrigation drip lines attached, all we have to do is erect supports for beans and raspberries and start planting.

Of course, getting all the herbs and veggies started needed somewhere under cover, so Easter weekend was spent assembling the greenhouse we ordered from Amazon.

This was all work we’d planned to do, but a cluster of things around the house needed urgent attention all at the same time. Our water heater started playing up in January, and we already knew the ancient furnace was long overdue for replacement, so we bit the bullet and hastily arranged for a heat pump and new water heater.

The carport roof had been leaking and slowly collapsing for a couple of years. The builder friend we’d spoken to back then finally had a gap in his schedule at short notice, so a major replacement took place at the same time.

On top of all this, we’d finally resumed work on landscaping at the front of the house and realized how badly the front steps were crumbling, so these are in the process of being replaced.

Yes, it’s all go! But at least this year, after several years of various medical issues, we’ve now got the energy to put some TLC back into the property. I just hope nothing else unexpected crops up.

And alongside all this, I’ve just finished the first draft of The Videshi Dilemma and am getting stuck into edits.

 

The dog ate my shed

A phone call at work in the middle of the afternoon. “Dad, did you do some work on the shed recently? Like, taking off some of the siding?”

No, I haven’t. Why would I do that? Puzzled, and wondering exactly what had happened at home while we were all out at work and college.

This is what I found.

Planks ripped off, and some excavation either side of the door. The dogs must have been after something, probably a raccoon. Though why anyone would mistake this scene for intentional DIY handiwork beats me. Seems someone has a low opinion of my carpentry skills!

Thankfully it was a dry afternoon today and I still had some offcuts of cedar siding from building the tree fort many years ago. All patched up again ... until the next time!

Why I’ll never be a prolific writer

Since settling into proper “first draft” mode back in October, progress on The Videshi Dilemma remains on track at the moment. However I’m reminded again of something I’ve noticed from previous novels: I’m a slow writer.

This is not a reflection of raw writing speed. When I’m on a roll I can comfortably knock out a thousand words inside an hour. At that pace, if I was writing full time I’d complete a novel in well under a month.

Nor is it a reflection of time available. Yes, I have a full time job and family commitments so I aim to spend an hour a day on writing, as a reasonable and achievable commitment. But even when I have a whole day available to me, I struggle to spend much more than an hour or two actually writing.

My limitation is that I can only write as fast as my imagination works, producing ideas to feed into a scene. So, perhaps it’s better to say: I’m a slow thinker.

On the writer’s “plotter versus pantser” scale, I’m somewhere in the middle. I often start with a scene that caught my imagination but without any idea yet where it’s going. I write a bit, then step back and start plotting the outline. But it’s only a high level outline, with lots of gaps and unknowns. It gives me a sense of structure and direction, but much of the detail emerges over time as writing progresses. The outline plot feeds off the actual writing as much as the other way around. I think this style is better described as a “gardener”.

And this back-and-forth is a vital aspect of my writing process. Once I’m well into a project and have immersed myself in the story, things occur to me that would never have come to mind if I tried to figure everything out from the outset. Back to The Videshi Dilemma, right now I’m about 60% through. I know how things end, and roughly what happens to get there, but many of the details still need to be fleshed out. It’s only now my characters have reached this point in the story did I start to realize some of the pressures and conflicts that should crop up, things I suspect I couldn’t have envisaged before now. So even when I retire and have all the time in the world, I don’t see myself suddenly churning out novels any faster than I do today.

Truth and reconciliation

 

People outside of Canada may not be aware that September 30 was a national day of truth and reconciliation.

The day has recently been introduced by the federal government to highlight the legacy of the residential school program and invite people to reflect on the lasting trauma inflicted on the Indigenous people of Canada.

As a recent (nineteen years ago) settler in BC, I was oblivious both to the residential school program and to the wider systemic injustices faced by Indigenous people. Yes, I had a rough knowledge of the history of Canada, told from a European perspective, but that all felt like old history, something that happened way before my great-grandparents’ times and all water under the bridge.

When a children’s mass grave was uncovered on a residential school site in Kamloops in 2021, the news shocked the country. Yes, other sites had sporadically been discovered in previous decades, but the scale here was new and was followed in a matter of months by many more such graves.

The scale of the horror became apparent. This was not a few isolated incidents. This was the needless deaths of literally thousands of kids, whisked away from their families to die of disease, abuse, and malnutrition at the hands of people who saw themselves as “better”.

Along with this came the realization that this is not ancient history. This is recent. The last school closed in 1997. That is not even my generation, this directly affects the generation that came after me. I have work colleagues who went to residential schools themselves, or whose parents and grandparents were separated from their families. The trauma has been buried, not discussed even in private, locked away too painful to think about. People at work are only now starting to tell their stories.

However, I was prompted to write this post after I read this weekend about the rise of denialism. People out there claiming it’s all a conspiracy, a hoax.

This distresses and angers me. There’s a rising tide of denialism poisoning our society. Denying the existence of extermination camps in WW2, the brutal reality of slavery in the US, the slaughter of children in mass school shootings. People who directly experienced events are bullied and hounded as kooks, liars, fakes. Social media has given a strident platform to people with their own agenda to pursue regardless of facts. Evidence becomes irrelevant, truth an inconvenience.

People need to own the truth, even if it’s uncomfortable and challenges their view of how the world should be.

I stand by the survivors of the residential school program, and I respect the courage it takes, in today’s hostile world, to finally stand up and tell their stories.

Lazy Crazy Hazy days of summer?

We’re nearly at the end of August, just waiting for the autumn cool to kick in. Summer is usually a time for lazy days on the deck, reading and writing, beer and barbecues. Yes, there’s been all that this year, but also a lot of stuff leaving me feeling like I still need a vacation! Nothing dramatically disastrous, but a lot of small to medium stressors piling on all at once – family, health, mechanical issues, and the ever-present smoke in the air from angry Nature.

On the plus side, we’ve not been directly threatened by wildfires (though there have been a few small ones nearby, quickly handled) and we’re getting through the other hurdles in reasonable shape.

One of the stresses I’ve had to handle is setting up a new website.

I’ve used Webs since I first set up an author site in 2014. They got taken over by Vistaprint, and announced that they would be merging offerings. That announcement was way back in 2020. Since then there have been a couple of “coming soon” type messages, but little talk and even less action. Then, mid July, seven weeks ago, they announced the move was finally here. My site would drop dead at the end of August, and – no – there was no help or tools available to help with the migration. Just, “So long, and thanks for all the fish.”

Not much time to figure out what to do, especially as we were about to set off visiting family overseas for two weeks followed by more travel for medical reasons. Strike three weeks from the time available to figure my shit out!

Yep. A bit of a perfect storm.

Anyhow, long story short, I opted to give Wordpress a try and have been doing battle with their labyrinthine website editor this month. My biggest worries were to maintain a presence (which I have) and keep hold of my custom domain name (which I’ve done), so I'm still at:

https://iansbott.com

The new site is still very much under construction as I manually recreate content that I scavenged from the old site. But it’s there! And I was relieved to see that when I updated my domain name details to point to the new site, existing links (such as my browser shortcuts and the links in this blog header) still worked.

That was a major headache sorted out. Now I just need to finish populating the site.

When did Sci-Fi get so boring?

Note – this isn’t referring to the actual stories, there are plenty of good stories out there, I’m talking about the visual appeal of the sci-fi shelf in bookstores.

When I was in my teens, if I had a few minutes to spare on my way to catch the bus home from school I’d often drop into one of the bookstores I passed. I wasn’t particularly looking for something to buy, I would simply feast my eyes on the cover art on display. These were the days of Asimov, Heinlein, Doc Smith, Herbert et. al.

The covers were bright, vibrant, thought-provoking, and above all – imaginative. They begged questions – what’s happening here? Who are these people? What would it be like to live there? These images, decades later, still serve as inspiration for my own art.

Recently, I had half an hour to kill waiting for a picture frame to be put together, so I wandered across the road to a bookstore. I walked out a little while later despairing for the future of my chosen genre, because there was nothing inspiring in sight.

Most of the traditionally-published covers on show seemed to fall into one of three common groups.

Stylized to death: Maybe I’m just out of touch, but I can’t forgive what Jim Tierney did to the Dune series. He isn’t alone, though. There were other covers consisting of plain geometric shapes that IMO do nothing to entice a potential reader. Boring and pretentious.

Wishy-washy: While keeping close in appearance to traditional covers, these have had the life sucked out of them as if the artist was afraid to commit to a clear picture. Distant ships and space stations obscured in an airbrushed pastel haze. A kind of Disneyfied view of space – no hard edges or nasty harsh vacuum here!

CGI perfection: Also close to traditional, these go to the other extreme. Ships and assorted space hardware rendered too perfectly to be true. And always against the obligatory backdrop of sun peeping over the horizon of a planet. Boring and sterile.

But my biggest complaint across the board was a lack of imagination. All three groups come across as generic and dull. After the first few in each group, they all blended into each other, nothing unique or distinctive about them.

Am I just imagining it? Am I being too harsh?

Wrath of Empire

Yes, it’s been a year since I last posted. I don’t know why, I guess I just ran out of things to say.

The blogging world used to be a vibrant community, and it still is around those blogs with a sizable established following, but so many of the bloggers I used to follow – and who used to visit The Bald Patch – have fallen quiet over the years. I found trying to post on a regular basis was a game of diminishing returns.

However, today I do have something to say, so I’ve come out of hibernation.

A new novel, Wrath of Empire, is now out there in the usual range of e-book formats. At the moment it’s at an introductory price of $0.99. The paperback will follow once I’ve received and approved the proof copy.

Wrath of Empire is a prequel to Ghosts of Innocence, and follows the catastrophic events that lead up to Shayla’s mission of revenge.

The Emperor wants peace between warring Families on rival worlds. His brother sees peace treaties as weakness; he aims to seize the throne and rule by strength. And then there’s Chalwen, bodyguard to the Emperor’s nine-year-old son, heir to the throne.

Chalwen takes professional paranoia to extremes, so when she suspects treachery inside the palace her superiors dismiss her warnings. Then the Emperor is assassinated. People are angry, looking for a villain, and all evidence points to one of the rival Families. Amid riots and military clashes, the young heir and his ambitious uncle fight for the throne.

Chalwen must protect the youngster while solving the Emperor’s murder to defuse the conflict. But the uncle has powerful supporters opposing Chalwen’s every move. Throw in a deranged arms dealer keen to profit from the chaos, and full scale interstellar war seems unavoidable.

Artwork for sale

Off and on over the years, I’ve looked into ways to make my artwork available as posters. After sitting on the fence for a while, I’ve finally opened a store on Zazzle and started uploading a handful of more recent paintings.

I’m still finding my way around Zazzle. The website is ... let’s be restrained and say ... not very friendly.

Sure, it all looks easy enough, but the site seems to go out of its way to make it hard to tell what you’re actually doing, and gives no confidence that you’ve managed to do what you wanted to do. It’s taking a while to figure out some of the quirks, like clicking on “My products” gives different information depending on which part of the site you just came from. And I just created a collection to group all my posters together, and clicking on “Collections” in the menu bar shows the collection I just created, but clicking the same thing from the navigator panel says I don’t have any. Contradictory and confusing as heck!

Oh well, I have started off by creating some posters, all in the region of 40cm by 50cm to 60cm depending on the width to height ratio of the original. That’s 16” by 20” to 24” if you’re still working in Imperial units.

It’s still a work in progress, but you can find my store here:

https://www.zazzle.ca/store/ian_s_bott/products

May Day

Today is May Day. It’s a public holiday in Britain, not so here in Canada but I’m not complaining because we still enjoy more holidays during the course of the year than we used to back there.

May Day is also our wedding anniversary – our 30^th this year, so it’s a big milestone.

We don’t do much by way of celebrations these days ... birthdays, anniversaries are all low key ... but it’s still a special day all the same.

Big bouquet of flowers in the living room. A special steak dinner this evening. But meanwhile Ali and Matthew are outside making the most of the sunshine today. They cleaned down the deck this morning and are busy assembling the barbecue she bought last weekend as our anniversary present.

Later on this month we’ll get a weekend away, just the two of us. That’s about as extreme as it gets :)

Happy May Day.

Painting again

I’ve gone for long spells before without completing a painting. In recent years, I’ve done several but they’ve all been specifically for book covers, so I’ve had a clear motivation and timetable to work to, and that felt very different from painting for pleasure.

Now, for the first time in over twenty years, I’ve taken up my paintbrush again for pure pleasure and actually crossed the finish line. I’ve started several in that time, but not completed. That’s nothing unusual ... I have many more unfinished works in my portfolio that finished.

This diversion of energy felt right, now that my first draft of the latest novel is written and working through months of critiques. Painting seemed to complement the critiquing activity.

Even so, the subject was actually inspired by a setting in Wrath of Empire. So here is Grand Duke Ivan’s retreat: Greyspire:

 

 

You can get a closer look on my website here:

https://www.iansbott.com/artwork-greyspire 

Weekend Writing Warriors - responsibilities

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image.

 

 

Continuing with a scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. Commander Gregor Pavlenko is overseeing maintenance on a giant plasma cannon on board battleship Wrath of Empire. Last week ended with his lieutenant saying: “You always get that faraway look in your eyes.” She grinned. “It’s kinda cute, you know.”

=====

“There’s nothing cute about taking your responsibility seriously.” He glanced once more at the dancing lights of the dashboard. Progress was good, but they’d be at it for hours yet.

Gregor swiveled in his seat and gazed across the room to where a small army of intruders crawled behind and under his familiar battle consoles, wrestling a snake pit of wiring harnesses out from open floor panels and knitting them into the fabric of his world. In some sense, he felt violated, but he brushed off the feeling. This was the empire’s new toy. New levels of automation to bring a clinical calculation to battle decisions. Progress. He’d better get used to it.

That’s nine sentences. The scene continues ... 

Following the line of his gaze, Una said, “The techs report they’re close to finished hooking their control lines in.”

“So,” Gregor whispered, “it’ll have its finger on the trigger for real this time.”

“With loads of safeties and aborts in between.” Una’s voice was light, but the set of her shoulders said otherwise.

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Weekend Writing Warriors – it’s kinda cute

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image.

Continuing with a scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. Commander Gregor Pavlenko is overseeing maintenance on a giant plasma cannon on board battleship Wrath of Empire.

=====

Gregor settled into his seat and nodded thanks as an orderly placed a cup of unsweetened tea on the desk to one side. He sipped the bitter brew and cleared his mind, then turned his attention to the spread of consoles that surrounded his command post.

One by one, stations reported in. Maintenance crews cleaned pipes and nozzles, reattached wires the width of human hairs and jumper cables thicker than his forearm, replaced worn parts, closed hatches and tightened fastenings.

The plasma cannon was ancient technology, and so simple in concept—rip apart atoms of feedstock to create a star-hot plasma, and belch it out in magnetically-confined parcels of destruction—yet so complex to execute. It had been mastered by the navies of the six Families and used by many Freeworlds and brigand outworlds.

Even after all these millennia it remained the most powerful weapon in regular use. Technically, it ranked second place to the quark bomb, but nobody counted that. Attempts to assemble quark bombs had a ninety percent failure rate, along with lost lives and irradiated continents. They were not practical weapons of war.

That’s nine sentences. The scene continues ...

The plasma cannon was meek in comparison, but controlling a high grade plasma and directing it in a tight beam was still tricky. It still needed a small industrial city’s worth of power generation, containment systems, cooling systems, and all the attendant controls and sensors.

As a technology, it was commonplace, but only the Skamensis navy had successfully scaled it up to this level.

“You’ve been to see Violet again, haven’t you?” Lieutenant Una Spelze, Gregor’s most senior weapons specialist, plonked herself down at the next station.

He gave a non-committal grunt.

“You always get that faraway look in your eyes.” She grinned. “It’s kinda cute, you know.”

 

=====

Just a reminder, I am looking for one or two people to act as alpha readers. This would be for a full read through the rough draft to give feedback on the big picture. Does the plot hang together, how do the characters come across, does the story flow and reach a satisfying conclusion ... that kind of thing.

I’m happy to reciprocate if you’ve got work that you’d like an independent read through.

If you’re interested, send me an email (if you have my email address) or reach me through the contact page on my website.

Weekend Writing Warriors – overkill

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image.

Continuing with a scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. Commander Gregor Pavlenko is overseeing maintenance on a giant plasma cannon on board battleship Wrath of Empire.

 

=====

There was no practical need for Gregor to be here. In fact, he could watch progress on the overhaul far better from his station in the operations room, but from time to time he needed to see the weapon up close. Watching people crawling like ants over its surface brought home the true size of his responsibility. This was military overkill on an arrogant scale. No-one should hold such power without a generous dose of humility and fear. In his five years as Wrath of Empire’s senior weapons engineer, he’d never yet had to point it at anything other than military targets. He prayed, as he did every time he reported for duty, that he never would.

The moment of introspection passed. He steadied himself against the stanchion and pushed off towards the nearest airlock. Outside the weapon bay, and once more in the ship’s artificial gravity, he shrugged on a jacket against the relative chill and headed back to the twilight world of the combat operations room.

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Weekend Writing Warriors – bring out the big guns

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image.

Continuing with another scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. We hop ahead in the story to meet another key player ...

=====

In the weightlessness of the vast weapon bay, Commander Gregor Pavlenko hung from a guide stanchion and swiveled in a slow three-sixty. The skin on his forehead crinkled in the dry heat, and his eyes pricked. Where he gripped the stanchion, the skin on his palms reddened. He should have worn goggles and gloves for this environment, but he wouldn’t be here long enough to suffer more than discomfort.

He was surrounded by sounds of machinery, voices, the clash of metal on metal, but it all seemed to come from a distance, as if heard through a long pipe. Beneath his feet, the barrel of Wrath of Empire's plasma cannon stretched into the distance, obscured by a bewildering multi-colored maze of machinery. Two thousand feet long, this cannon was the signature weapon of imperial Sword-class battleships. This one weapon was bulkier than the whole of most warships, and could level a city with a single blast.

 

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Happy New Year, everyone. Here’s hoping 2022 brings some relief from the turmoil of 20 and 21!

Weekend Writing Warriors – it’s not wrong

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image.

I’m sharing the opening scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. Crown Prince Julian and his bodyguard, Chalwen, are talking about the late Empress Florence, who they’ve just interred. Chalwen is worried that with Florence gone, Julian would have to compete with his uncle Ivan for the throne if anything happened to his father.

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“I know Father's sad.” Julian screwed his face. “I honestly can't tell what Mother's thinking. Josie and Flossie can't stop bawling their eyes out, of course.”

Of course, Chalwen thought. Of all Paul's children they'd had the closest relationship with their sweetly tyrannical grandmother.

Empress Florence had continued a long line of brutal oppression with imaginative savagery, only softening in her later years with the births of twins Josephine and young Florence, two years Julian's junior. Something had changed her then, ending in her declaring Paul her successor rather than the elder Ivan.

Could a last minute change of heart really make up for decades of iron rule?

That’s nine sentences. The scene continues ...

From the corners of her eyes, Chalwen noted the six members of Julian’s escort falling in around them as they entered the shadowed avenue leading back to the residence. Steel-grey clouds chased the last few rays of sun, and a damp chill seeped through the gardens from the ocean beyond the clifftop wall.

“To answer your question, no, it's not wrong.”

 

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That’s the end of the scene. Of course, the question Chalwen refers to is the opening line where Julian asks “Is it wrong of me not to feel sad?”

Happy Christmas folks!

Weekend Writing Warriors – line of succession

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image.

I’m sharing the opening scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. Crown Prince Julian and his bodyguard, Chalwen, are talking about the late Empress Florence, who they’ve just interred. Julian just asked if the old Empress could have resumed the throne in the event of his fathers death.

 

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Chalwen pondered the question. “In theory, if your uncle Ivan didn't beat her to it. But that's no longer a consideration. You're right. As next in line, you do need to prepare yourself.” More than you can know. Chalwen shuddered again. If anything should happen to Emperor Paul, Ivan had little hope of wresting power from a still-formidable Florence. But young and inexperienced Julian? That was another matter.

 

 

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Weekend Writing Warriors

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image.

I’m sharing the opening scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. Crown Prince Julian and his bodyguard, Chalwen, are talking about the late Empress Florence, who they’ve just interred. The last snippet ended with Chalwen saying, “Today, you are only a step away from the Skamensis throne.”

=====

“Why today? Father has been Emperor for a year now. Grandmother already passed the throne on to him, so surely her death changes nothing.”

It changes everything Chalwen wanted to scream. But it would take years for Julian to navigate the maze of conflicting powers that made up the Empire. “True enough, but while Florence lived, in many people's minds she was still an Empress. If anything happened to your father, she could have resumed the throne.”

“Could that really have happened?”

 

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Weekend Writing Warriors – Wrath of Empire

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image. 

 

 

I’m sharing the opening scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence. Crown Prince Julian and his bodyguard, Chalwen, are talking about the late Empress Florence, who they’ve just interred. This snippet opens with Chalwen speaking: 

 

=====

 

“Your grandmother was ... a complicated person.” 

“I didn't really know her.” 

Was that sadness in his voice? Regret? Fear, even? 

“I was hoping she would teach me more about statecraft, and ruling the Empire.” 

Chalwen shuddered, then reminded herself that Julian was only nine years old. He was only aware of the last few years of Florence's rule, not the bloody century that preceded them. 

“I'll have to learn one day, and Father is too busy to bother with me.” 

“It's never a bad thing to think ahead. Today, you are only a step away from the Skamensis throne.”

=====

 

As I was preparing to post this, I reached an exciting milestone in this project. I tidied up the last scenes in the story – the first draft is officially done!

I will be reviewing the whole document carefully before putting it through the queue at Critique Circle for a detailed critique, but in the meantime I am also looking for one or two alpha readers. This would be for a full read through to give feedback on the big picture. Does the plot hang together, how do the characters come across, does the story flow and reach a satisfying conclusion ... that kind of thing.

I’m happy to reciprocate if you’ve also got work that you’d like an independent read through.

If you’re interested, send me an email (if you have my email address) or reach me through the contact page on my website.

Wrath of Empire

Weekend Writing Warriors is a weekly blog hop where participants post eight to ten sentences of their writing. You can find out more about it by clicking on the image. 

 

 

 

It’s been nearly a year since I last posted to WWW. Last time, I posted scenes from The Long Dark, which was published last Christmas. Since then, I’ve been busy drafting a new novel. Over the next few weeks, I’m sharing the opening scene from Wrath of Empire, a prequel to my first novel, Ghosts of Innocence.

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“Is it wrong of me not to feel sad?” 

The question startled Lieutenant Chalwen ap Gwynodd back to the here-and-now. She'd been scanning the tree line and peering into the shadows, alert for anything out of place, when her attention had wandered. A fine stand of thousand-year-old Veshi oaks spread their gnarled canopy over a walkway leading deeper into the Imperial family graveyard. The play of light and shade had distracted Chalwen, a fatal lapse in a bodyguard. 

But here, of anywhere on the planet, was surely safe, and the hectic few days of the official state funeral had been exhausting. All the same, Chalwen cursed under her breath and carried out a hurried situation check. 

Prince Julian was still gazing at the plain memorial where the family had just interred the ashes of Empress Florence. He tilted his head as if in thought, gazing at the simple inscription carved into the rough stone. Chalwen struggled to read his mood. 

 

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