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 SEAN FENIAN: United Fleet (The Stardock Trilogy Book 2)
Four months ago, the Crickets — the Chhrt’ktk’t, in their own language — had abandoned a mobile shipyard with a burned-out hyperdrive core in Sol system, as a decoy. They hadn’t told humanity about the decoy part. Then they had picked Alex Holder to operate it, simply because he happened by chance to be the first human they found who could — because that would make it a better decoy.
In perhaps as little as five years, the Khreetan would be coming. The Crickets hadn’t intended for humanity to know that, either.
Alex had those five years to build a defensive fleet from the spines out, recruit crews for his ships, and find enough humans who could reach full rapport with Cricket tech to command and control them — and get all of them trained to work together despite their national differences. All this, while at the same time he tried to share the Crickets’ scientific knowledge, distribute their technology where it was most desperately needed, and somehow still keep the peace.
But would it be enough?
Fortunately, he had help, and he was beginning to find more people who could fully link with Chhrt’ktk’t technology.
FROM JERRY BOYD: Friends With Boomafits (Bob and Nikki Book 46)
BSR thought that things were going well on Zarathrustra. They should know better by now, don’t you think? One thing leads to another, as Bob and the crew do their best to straighten things out. Ride along, with the ships of BSR as they try to keep their world safe.
FROM JAMES TOTTEN: Battle Fatigue and Speed Bumps: Breaching Ain’t Easy
Volume I Battle Fatigue
It’s hell on Earth in the explosive battlefields of the former North Korea. Two Corps, Chinese and Korean/American, are slugging it out to decide the fate of the Korean Peninsula as World War Three rages on. SSG Denise Ware is in the thick of the battle with her four ground combat drones, screening the Corps from attack from a Chinese Armored Regiment. The action comes quickly to the drone drivers as they fight to keep the massed Chinese armor from attacking the flank of IV Corps. Will the drones win or lose, or will the Chinese overrun IV Corps and destroy Korea’s industrial capacity that is supplying NATO with the tanks and vehicles needed to hold the line in former Ukraine? It’s armored combat at its worst as the drones, or “American Murder Hornets,” try to save the day.
Book II Speedbumps
Learn how “Slowball” earned his handle and goes to war after retiring. Follow his exploits as his “tiny tanks” blunt a Soviet attack in the “no quarter asked or given” NATO war in Europe rages all around his tiny tanks. The drivers have the guts and the drones are doing the dying as the battle in the former Ukraine chews through men and materiel. When the drones get decimated, who will come to save the day? Find out in this action packed short story forged on the future battlefields of WW III.
FROM SCOTT MCCREA: Twenty Chests of Gold
Introducing a new series of adventure novels by storyteller Scott McCrea!
Jeff Galleon, California surfer and beach bum, is a “person of interest” to the police when old friends are murdered. Galleon soon discovers he is at the center of a conspiracy involving rogue American agents, a beautiful assassin and missing pirate gold. He traces the treasure from California to New York to Paris to the Dominican Republic, but can he find it before the killers find him?
Twenty Chests of Gold is the first in an exciting new series of adventure stories featuring Jeff Galleon by Western Writers of America Spur Award finalist, author Scott McCrea.
And this one has a book trailer, apparently!
FROM DALE COZORT: Snapshot42-Book2:Through The Texas Gate (Snapshot-42 Book 2)
Snapshot42: Through the Texas Gate is an alternate history novel. In early November 1942, with World War II hanging in the balance, an invisible wall cuts Europe, along with parts of the Middle East and North Africa, off from the rest of the world. With the Allies running out of vital raw materials from the rest of the world, they look for ways through the wall. They find two gates to other realities. One leads to a still-independent Republic of Texas that still uses black powder weapons and is barely holding off fierce nomad raiders, while another leads to a strange land without people but overrun by still-living dinosaurs.
Jim Bridger and Colonel Tillman need to buy oil and food to keep the allies in the war, but first they have to survive fierce new enemies in these new-found realities.
FROM MARY CATELLI: Enchantments And Dragons
A wizard must produce justice enough to satisfy a dragon. A young man tries to rob a tiger’s lair. An enchantress tries to keep a court safe while they ignore the perils of misusing her magic. A lady finds that court intrigues can spread even to the countryside. And more tales. Includes “Over the Sea To Me,” “Dragonfire and Time”, “The Maze, the Manor, and the Unicorn”, “The White Menagerie”, “The Dragon’s Cottage,” “Jewel of the Tiger,” and “The Sword Breaks.”
FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: The Other Side of Midnight
Life has been a nightmare for Mitya ever since he was arrested on trumped-up charges and exiled to Siberia. But this labor camp in the far north of Magadan Oblast hides a secret far more terrible than the merely human evils of the Great Terror. For the universe we know is not the only one, and there are places where it interpenetrates with universes where the laws of nature as we know them do not operate, where humanity has no place. Worlds inhabited by beings ancient and terrible, to whom humanity are slaves, playthings, food.
FROM HOLLY CHISM: Gods and Monsters
Here there be dragons…again, damn it.
Deshayna has her sanity back, and forces older than the gods have granted her a new purpose. Chronos, his freedom restored, fights for his sanity, and with it, a purpose in helping Deshayna—now called Shay—with hers. The gods are starting to pull together more…and it’s about time.
Millennia after the last dragons to threaten human existence have been hunted down, they’ve started to reappear, hinting to the surviving gods that something more sinister appeared first: Tiamat.
Instead of a confrontation, though, the gods—major, minor, and genus loci—are drawn into a frustrating hunt for a predator that flees rather than attempting to strike.
FROM KAREN MYERS: Second Sight: A Science Fiction Short Story
BORROWING SOMEONE ELSE’S PERCEPTIONS FOR A POPULAR DEVICE CAN ONLY MEAN COMMERCIAL SUCCESS. RIGHT?
Samar Dix, the inventor of the popular DixOcular replacement eyes with their numerous enhancements, has run out of ideas and needs another hit. Engaging a visionary painter to create the first in a series of Artist models promises to yield an entirely new way of looking at his world.
But looking through another’s eyes isn’t quite as simple as he thinks, and no amount of tweaking will yield entirely predictable, or safe, results.
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: Heavenly
According To Hoyt 
“It’s heavenly to be here with you.”
“Indeed… What’s that snake doing here?”
Looks carefully …
“The mambo, I think.”
“For the fifth time?”
Heh, had this one ready to go for a while now. It just took some minor edits. Apologies for any inaccurate Japanese and/or European Spanish. 😉
“That’s her?!” Aoi gasped while Vincent, Carys, and Alphonse readied their weapons. “Wow! She’s like a real life Shadow Mistress Setsuna!”
Azahara went silent at the petite engineer’s words. She paused for what felt like a full minute before her features twisted with rage and she yelled “Baa-ka! How dare you insult me so?! Do you not know Hoshiko when you see her, niña idiota?!”
“Nani?! Who’re you calling baka, baka?!” Aoi snapped, raising her rifle. “You, Hoshiko?! Puh-LEEZ! You’re mean! You’re scary! You’re always trying to kill Vinnie, Carys, and Alphonse – and never can, either! That’s all! Shadow! Mistress! Setsuna! You’re totally not the Heavenly Messenger of Love and Justice! No way, no how!”
The smell that came from the ship’s galley was heavenly after three months of military-grade and general station-quality food printers. “What is that?” Aife asked as she came in, ducking under the pressure door frame.
“I managed to get ahold of cooking supplies when we landed on Fateaway,” James smiled, and pulled open the oven. “That damned luxury printer is on back order no matter where we go, so I asked ATHENA if she had some recipies and I spent some money on…,” he pulled the pizza out of the oven. “Well, I spent it on everything that I would need to make real food for the next week and change. And wine, real wine. From grapes.”
Aife looked at the pizza in shock. “You can actually cook,” she half-laughed. “Not just hold meat over a fire and let it crisp as you rotate it.”
“I can even fix my own socks,” James chuckled. “ATHENA can keep us running for a few hours without issue and I know that Grainne will be on shift, so she’ll be sober. And in about…five minutes, the pizza will be cool enough to eat, we have a salad, and we can have a dining in tonight.”
Clicking on “An Author in Charge” still brings up a WordPress notice that “bigbootaybooksdotcom.wordpress.com doesn’t exist”.
His site is Big Bootay Books – My Publishing Website For Novels, Short Stories, And Anything Else and I found it.
Cool! Found it. Bookmarked it!
Dining-in? With a grog bowl?
No, just a chance for the crew to mostly have a meal that doesn’t take like horrible take-out and spend time talking with each other.
Perrin glanced at Ciara. “They said it was made in a manner that would keep anyone out who did not know the magic it hid. But they could not have protected it against heavenly magic.”
Ciara sighed. “We have the swords. And we fumbled around to find someone to fight.”
Hang on, this could get a little treacly…
The moored airship loomed over them, making the passenger compartment seem tiny. Inside, though, it was more spacious than it looked, and certainly luxurious. “Perfect,” thought Max as he took Cari by the hand and led her to their seats up front. “Perfect for a heavenly flight over the city!”
The sun had already set by the time the airship took off. A jolt as the moorings dropped away, a little pitch as the airship’s nose pointed upward, and they were off to the heavens. Soft music played over hidden speakers, and Cari and Max each held a complimentary cocktail.
As the airship approached the city skyline, Cari was looking everywhere at once, gaping in wonder. Max, though slightly acrophobic, felt oddly serene, and let everything, the city lights, the quiet drone of the motors, the warmth of Cari’s hand, wash over him like a warm bath. “Paradise,” he thought.
Had enough?
Speaking of Heavenly, here’s a pretty piece by the late Koichi Sugiyama:
… this sounds familiar enough that I’m wondering what video game it was in.
Multi-colored clouds swirled across the face of the gas giant below. Some people would’ve called the view heavenly, but for Piper, it was vertigo-inducing.
“Wiser to trust to heavenly aid in that case,” said Dorothea, much more dryly.
“Maybe Snowfall is heavenly aid,” said Sylvie. “It would be wrong to demand that Heaven send an angel rather than a white doe, or a white cat.”
“Over here,” said Dorothea, “we will find our bluestars.”
“Heaven help you if you cause too much trouble,” said the woman, and Marcus stood. The girl was already glaring at the door, and he held out the keys.
“I’ll distract her,” he said.
She snatched them. “Heaven bless you.”
Marcus hurried toward the doorway. The woman was approaching it.
“Swing low, sweet cha-ar-io-ot,
Comin’ for to carry me home…”
Louis Delacorte’s deep, rich voice rang warmly through the cramped little snatchpod for a few more sumptuous bars. Then, like a circular saw hitting a tough knot…
“Oh, cut it out. For heaven’s sake, if you’d ever ridden up on a grabshot before, you’d know two and a half gees wasn’t anything to sing about. And figuring we’ve been in three-quarters standard gravity here on Baldur, it’s only gonna make that fatso-in-your lap thing feel even worse.” Henrietta Wingate’s (“wing-ette”) voice was fully as Old New England ‘lemony’ as her (all-too-common) sourpuss expression. Not even the stolid Nantucketers of her centuries-ago background would’ve been quite so… dour, as all that.
“And besides, Louis, someone ought-ta break it to you, you’re never gonna be the next Paul Robeson any way, any how.”
“Could someone please explain, again,” said Lessie Arneson, and mostly in genuine curiosity rather than any public-spirited interventionism, “just exactly how this is all about to work? I mean, I know it’s sort-of like a skyhook elevator, but a lot more… kinetic. And time-sensitive.”
“A rotavator, which this is, is really a lot more like the original idea of a skyhook — I mean, the pre-science and pre-technology one. A space elevator stays in one place, at least relative to the planet, unless it’s stuck to a moon like the Phobovator on Old Mars. But a rotavator is about as old, considering the technical details; and it hits a lot more places.”
Gareth Kline’s voice sounded dry, quiet, and soothing, as compared to the recent raw bicker. Almost soporific, though…
“Figure you have a mass in low orbit, like a station or even a rock. Now let two or three or more tethers — really strong ones but not as strong, necessarily, as a space elevator — swing around it, maybe dipping down to near the atmosphere, or entering it, or even touching the surface. Now if you spin it at the right rate, though only for a moment as each ‘arm’ of your multi-tether comes around to vertical, the spin and orbit velocities cancel and its tip comes to a perfect halt, relative to the surface.
“Before and after that, it’s screaming downwards at you, then zipping back upwards to the central mass’s orbit and beyond; accelerating upwards all the way up and down. But, for that one instant, as it strikes down like a stinger and then stops, it can grab onto something or vice-versa. And then when it comes up, you, or us, can go with it. Maybe even a little bit of gee-load worse than a rocket shuttle, but no propellant involved. And it touches down at multiple places per turn, turns multiple times per orbit.”
And he smiled, softly. “I’d show you the animation if we weren’t ninety, mark, seconds to hook-on.” Because he was the pilot, as much as anyone not a computer or a sequencer was.
“So the balloons and cables just hold the grab-hook a few hundred feet up in the air, for the active-guided grab-head on the tether?” Lessie was in full tell-me-more mode, still. And the bickering was back to a quiet smoldering.
“Yes, and the Geographic Positioning System tracks both ends of the grab in real time to about a foot, and when it gets close the lasers on both ends handshake and turn that into fractional-inch accuracy. For a third of a second or so, the grab-head is stationary to within a foot, and that really is plenty of time to lock on or abort. Almost fast enough for an ordinary human to do it all manually, but maybe not quite.”
Lessie actually looked pensive. “So tell me again, if there is a simple and short enough answer, why we can’t just ride up by pushing against the air? I mean, like the big main ship’s sisky, ah, siskyish–”
“Siskyissputh, I think. It’s a word from an old Niven & Pournelle book, in which Old Earth is invaded by spacefaring elephants. No, really.” Brenda Babbitt’s bright voice cut in, a little surprisingly. “The interstellar propeller, as it’s also called, revolutionizes star travel by pushing on the interstellar gas and dust, like an aircraft propeller does air. Not only to slow down like a magnetic-sail brake, but also to speed up. Even lets you recover some of your energy when you stop. No propellant needed or wanted at all.
“But it works over many millions of miles, which is a little… expansive, for a mere planet. And it takes thousands to tons of equipment to build, even as madly-mad fifth-force skillz as we all got now.” Her short dark neo-neo-goth curls bobbed, and her dark-on-dark black-hole earrings swung. “Figure out how to build one that’ll fit a teensy six-place pod like this one, you’ll make ’nuff of a mint o’ money to buy all o’ New Muskovy and more.” And she grinned, broad and brassy, brighter than an F0 sun.
“Besides, I purely love ridin’ grabshots. Best carnival ride in all the wide uu-ni-verrse, evvah! Wouldn’ miss it for a world!” (Her voice was no longer what some still called an ‘inside voice’ — not really much, at all.)
There was a bang, loud but not overwhelming, from somewhere up in the air.
“Sonic boom from the grabhead, folks, now five seconds to grab-on.” Said in that calm (but still yet not too-calm) pilot’s voice of old.
There was a softly-muttered “crap” barely loud enough to trace to Henny.
Then very soon also a softly-ringing “thunk” from above.
And a piercing “Yee-HAAH!” out of Brenda, as a sandbag’s worth of sudden weight dropped in all their laps; and their trip back up to the miles-long arkology ship had begun.
Nice set of promos, thanks!