Friday's Featured Title: A St. Patrick's Day Tale

A St. Patrick's Day Tale was written by Allana (Christine Young), Sable (C.L. Kraemer), and Amber (Genene Valleau)

A St. Patrick's Day Tale

Star Crossed

Christine Young

Meadows of Gold

C.L. Kraemer

St. Batzy and the Time Machine

Genene Valleau

Excerpt

Star Crossed

Christine Young

Chapter One

Ireland 1816

The ring of knuckles hitting flesh thundered through the brilliant spring morning. Casey O'Connell lifted her skirts and raced up the little knoll behind the old white church. She knew her big bro was fighting. They always fought after church on Sunday. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why.

"No! Stop it, I say. Patrick O'Connell, you--" Breathing hard Casey barreled through the ring of brawling men.

"Of course, Casey, anything you say," her brother and his friends laughed as he stepped aside.

"Get him, Casey! Land a punch for your big brother and St. Patrick," one of the young men called out.

"The O'Connell's are getting their women folk to fight their battles now?"

"I'll have your head for that, Shaunasey," another joined in.

"Watch your mouth and where you're a starin' or you'll have a black eye so swollen you won't be able to see."

"Woo--eee!" The brawl escalated then seemed to settle around Casey and her off-balance charge through her brother's foes.

Surrounding her she heard raucous cheers, cat calls, and whistles as well as her name. Her arms flailing, she ignored them all and tried desperately to keep her balance.

"Hmph!" She hit hard--a solid rock of muscle--heard the slightest grunt from the object in front of her. Air rushed from her lungs and stars seemed to circle inside her head.

"Oh…" she wailed as the object she hit cradled her with his arms on their way to the dampness of the ground below. Dizziness overwhelmed her. She let her head rest on a muscled chest. She heard a slow even heartbeat then a low rumble of laugher.

~ * ~

Moya sat on the softest of flower petals, watching the scene unfold. Oran sat on another petal, cocking his head sideways in scrutiny, his manly features grimacing with disgust. For a quick moment, Moya let her gaze rest on the young men behind the couple, wishing she dared play a trick on them to shoo them away.

"Do you think these two will ever get it right?" Moya asked smiling at her best friend and older brother. A wee spell to send the others on their way wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"I'm not holding my breath," Oran said, brushing a piece of lint from his clothes and looking to the sky as if seeking divine intervention.

"She is lying on top of her true love. What more could she wish for?" Moya sighed, clasping her hands together and enjoying the pure romance as well as the knowledge it was her doing that had brought Casey to the knoll this fine day.

"A little shower of pixie dust? Or maybe a pinch would be enough?" Oran asked a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm thinking they may be needin' more enchantment. They are hell bent on getting this all wrong."

"We have to give them more time. Humans are so--soo--sooo--" Moya let her eyes close, searching for the right word to describe humans. My god, but they were impossible, always ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Inept?" Oran asked. "Would that be the word you are lookin' for little sis?"

"Foolish with their hearts," Moya told him, trying to give the couple in front of them the benefit of the doubt. Her heart beat hard beneath her breast, her pulse racing in anticipation of Casey finally finding happiness.

"Stupid," Oran shot back with a snort.

"This is the first time they've actually spoken to each other," Moya said, looking wistfully at the two soon-to-be, young lovers. "We knew this wouldn't be easy."

"After all the times we cast spells to put them together, they should be married with children, not rolling around in the grass," Oran said, a note of disgust in his voice. He sighed heavily, casting his gaze again heavenward.

Moya smiled, her dainty hands rested beside her on the lavender flower, her silvery wings moving lazily behind her, "Like it or not, humans rolling around in the grass often times begets children," she told Oran while she laughed at her words and the ancient wisdom.

"You be knowin' what I mean. Don't be twisting my words." Oran hovered over the flower, ready to take flight, his wings beating rapidly, his annoyance obvious.

Moya knew she needed to assuage his feelings and apologize. But she didn't think she had anything to apologize for. "Sit down, Oran. We need to stay put in case they need us. More than likely they will."

"Hmmph." Oran sat back on the flower, crossing his arms in front of him, an elfish glare on his handsome features. "When has a human ever admitted to needin' one of the fae folk?"

"Don't be so fickle, Oran. We both know it's not in their nature to be askin' for advice."

Contest

Comment on any Rogue's Angels post, including goddessfish tours from January 1st to March 17, and you will be entered to win. 

Follow the Rogues Angels blog and you will be entered twice.

Rogue's Angels will have drawings through January, February, and March. Grand prizes to be awarded on Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day.

Prizes

After the drawings on February 15th we now have:

Gift Cards:  $20 Starbucks GC

Name in next anthology (pending, I'm pulling for May Day) 

Bookmarks: to everyone who leaves a comment

Downloads of past anthologies (6): Star Crossed, Meadows, St. Batzy & the Time Machine

Join The Weekly Check IN

Source: google.com via Chris on Pinterest

Picture of Scottish Highlands

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

I haven't done as well as I had hoped. I wanted to be through Rebel Heart and it's edits. But I'm only a fifth of the way. I'm going to try to finish by Monday. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I had also hoped to search for photos for its new cover but... well by Monday maybe.

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.

Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

Had a great week? Keep it up, the momentum is on your side.

Contest

Comment on any Rogue's Angels post, including goddessfish tours from January 1st to March 17, and you will be entered to win. 

Follow the Rogues Angels blog and you will be entered twice.

Rogue's Angels will have drawings through January, February, and March. Grand prizes to be awarded on Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day.

Prizes

After the drawings on February 15th we now have:

Gift Cards:  $20 Starbucks GC

Name in next anthology (pending, I'm pulling for May Day) 

Bookmarks: to everyone who leaves a comment

Downloads of past anthologies (6): Star Crossed, Meadows, St. Batzy & the Time Machine

Please Welcome Jonathan Gould author of Doodling and Flidderbugs

Jonathan will be talking about two very unique books here today:  Doodling is classified as comic fantasy, and was nominated as a Goodreads Choice book for 2011. Fiddlerbugs is Satire/fable/fantasy.


Jonathan will be giving away a $25 Amazon GC to one randomly drawn commenter from the tour and the host with the most comments (excluding Jonathan's and the host's) will receive a $20 Amazon GC.


Don't forget to leave a comment when you stop by today and oh...don't forget to pick up copies of these two fascinating reads.

Title: Doodling
Genre: Comic fantasy
Blurb:

Neville Lansdowne fell off the world.

Actually, he did not so much fall off as let go. The world had been moving so quickly lately and Neville was finding it almost impossible to keep up.

Doodling is an engaging comic fantasy which relates the events that befall Neville after he finds himself abandoned by the world and adrift in the middle of an asteroid field. Douglas Adams meets Lewis Carroll (with just a touch of Gulliver's Travels) as Neville wanders through his new home, meeting a variety of eccentric characters and experiencing some most unexpected adventures.

Title: Flidderbugs
Genre: Satire/fable/fantasy
Blurb:

As Kriffle the Flidderbug investigates why his fellow 'bugs find it impossible to agree on the pressing issue of how many points there are on the leaves of the tree on which they live, he finds that the truth is more complicated, and ultimately more terrifying, than he ever could have imagined.

Flidderbugs is a political satire, a modern fable, or maybe just a funny little story about a bunch of insects with some very peculiar obsessions.

More about Jonathan

Interview

1. What or who inspired you to start writing?

That’s a good question. There are a bunch of different influences I can name:

- Mad Magazine was definitely one of the earliest ones. They showed how you could be funny and irreverent in both a really smart and also really silly way at the same time. They could have a really well-honed political satire, then on the next page a funny-in-a-completely-pointless-way Don Martin or Spy-vs-Spy cartoon.

- Monty Python is another strong one – again the amazing mix of high and lowbrow in their comedy. Who else could bring a bunch of great philosophers together and have them play soccer, or get a group of communist political leaders and ask them question about the Eurovision Song Competition.

- I have to mention Douglas Adams (I think he gets a mention in every interview I do). He took the above-mentioned styles of humour and showed that you could work them into a novelistic form. An absolute genius and one of my most prized possessions is my autographed copy of Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy.

In addition to that, can I just also add that I’m kind of lazy, and don’t love the idea of 9-to-5 work. It was either be a writer or find someone rich and famous to marry. Memo to any rich and famous single women out there – sorry, I’m taken.

2. How did you come up with the genre "daglit?" How do you define this genre? Please explain using examples from your book.

Ah yes, dag-lit – my finest invention. A dag is a slang term in Australia for someone who is uncool and unfashionable. It began as a serious insult but these days is just as likely to be used affectionately (if it’s used at all – seems like American terms like nerd and geek are taking over) for someone who is a bit “out-of-the-box” but in a fun and genial way.

Dag-lit began as a bit of a throwaway term. When I told people I was writing “stuff” and they asked me what genre it was, I was never quite sure what to answer – “well they’re kind of silly and kind of funny, and they look a bit like kid’s stories but they could also be enjoyed by adults…” Around this time, you started hearing terms like chick-lit and lad-lit being tossed around. Eventually, I just tossed out “they’re dag-lit”. I really like that it seems to define the sort of stories I write. They’re not cool or fashionable, but they’re kind of fun and they’ll make you laugh, like a true dag.

3. What expertise did you bring to your writing?

Well, let’s see. I know how to put words together in a way that generally makes sense. I have a crude sense of grammar and a rough knowledge of punctuation. Beyond that, I’d have to say, not that much.

I like to think that I have a fairly vivid imagination, so mostly my stories involve making stuff up. I also feel that my general lack of knowledge or understanding about the world is one of the things that drives my writing. In a way, writing is how I try to make sense of things, and the sort of characters I generally write, like Kriffle, the central character in Flidderbugs, are a bit like that as well, wondering around and trying to figure out exactly what is going on.

4. What would you want your readers to know about you that might not be in your bio?

- I’m six-foot five with a barrel chest, sandy-blond hair and dimples in my cheeks

- I can play the guitar solo at the end of Dire Strait’s Sultan’s of Swing with my eyes closed and my fingers sticky-taped together

- I can do a hundred metre-sprint in less than six seconds – but I refuse to enter the Olympics as I don’t want to humiliate the other runners

- I have some issues with honesty.

5. As far as your writing goes, what are your future plans?

Just keep bashing away. I’ve had enough positive feedback from the two novellas I’ve released so far to convince myself that maybe I’m not too bad at writing and I should keep on with it.

While I don’t see any future adventures for Kriffle and his fellow Flidderbugs at this stage, I am working on a sequel to my other novella, Doodling. But before that, I have a novel which should be available soon. It’s called Magnus Opum and I like to describe it as Tolkien meets Dr Seuss.

6. If you could be one of the characters from this book, who would it be and why?

Definitely Filligrob, the business-bug. He’s the sort of character who could go into any situation and figure out how to make money out of it. I wish I had the head for business. I’d love to have a better idea of how to more effectively turn my creativity into something financial – as per the final bit of my answer to question 1 above.

7. Can you give us a sneak peak into this book?

With pleasure. I assume you’re after a short extract so here goes. This is where Kriffle, in his quest for information on the vital question of how many points there are on a leaf, has met up with Brakliff, a senior member of the large and mostly impenetrable Florddenbureau:

“Kriffle, is it?” cried the ‘bureau-bug in amazement after Kriffle had introduced himself. “My goodness, you’ve grown. You were barely out of your cocoon the last time I saw you.”

“I’m here under the direction of my father,” Kriffle explained. “He suggested we get in touch.”

“A great ‘bug, your father,” said Brakliff. “Gave me my first opportunity all those years ago. I’ll always appreciate him for that. As you can see, I’ve never looked back.”

He indicated a plaque that sat on top of his desk. It bore the words ‘First-higher-seniorofficial-over-secretary’ on it. Kriffle did not know exactly what this meant but it was clearly more impressive than third-assistant-junior-secretary.

“It must be hard serving under the Quadrigons,” said Kriffle. “I don’t know how you manage it.”

“One does what one needs to,” replied Brakliff.

“I think I’d find it impossible,” said Kriffle. “When you know that there are three points on every leaf, but the ‘bugs you work for have no idea. Doesn’t it just drive you mad?”

Brakliff looked at Kriffle, a slight smile on his mandibles. “I remember those days,” he said, almost to himself. “When it was so easy to be sure how many points there were on a leaf.”

Kriffle found himself somewhat confused by this comment. “But it is easy to be sure how many points there are on a leaf, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say that. In fact from where I’m sitting, I would say the question of how many points there are on a leaf is actually rather complicated.”

“How can it be complicated?” wondered Kriffle. “My father didn’t think you had any difficulties. He said that you really knew how many points there were on a leaf.”

“And he was correct,” said Brakliff. “Back in those days it was clear that there were three points on every leaf. But things have changed since then.”

“What has changed?” demanded Kriffle, not believing what he was hearing.

“Your father and his tribe have been thrown from power. The Quadrigons have the Shears. That in itself is enough to make it obvious that there are now four points on every leaf.”

Kriffle leapt up in horrified anger. “How can you say that? You turncoat, you despicable traitor, you…”

“Just calm down, Kriffle,” Brakliff interrupted. “You have to understand that here in the corridors of power the number of points on a leaf cannot be determined merely by counting them. There are other considerations that must be taken into account.”

“But you’re wrong,” cried Kriffle, claws thrust on hips as he advanced. “It will always be the same, no matter who is in power…” Then he stopped. A crackling sound momentarily distracted him. It was a leaf, caught in one of the joints of his carapace. This gave him an idea. He pulled the leaf out and held it up in front of Brakliff’s face. The number of points it displayed could not be disputed.

“How many points, Brakliff?” he cried in triumph. “Let’s see you try to tell me this leaf doesn’t have three points.”

But Brakliff didn’t make any attempt to count the points on the leaf. Instead, he leapt up, and before Kriffle could stop him, he had grabbed the leaf, ripped it up into tiny pieces, and thrown them into the small bin that sat under his desk. All the while, he had his eyes tightly shut and he was muttering under his breath, “I didn’t see it, I didn’t see it.” But when he opened them again, he no longer looked calm. Instead, he looked angry, nervous and even slightly afraid.

“You’d better leave now,” was all he said.

8. Do you outline your books or just start writing?

A bit of each. Flidderbugs was definitely plotted out in close detail. I started off with a number of ideas relating to politics, belief and identity and then began carefully developing the characters and the plot around them.

But I’ve written other stories in a very unplanned way. My other novella, Doodling, was largely written this way, hence the title.

9. How do you maintain your creativity?

Bang my head hard against a wall until the ideas begin to dribble out. Seriously, it can be a real challenge, especially when you are working in that 9-to-5 (curse it). Sometimes you really need to push yourself hard to write in order not to go stale. But other times, you have to take the opposite approach completely and step away for a bit. The more relaxed your mind is, the more likely it is to be open to ideas. It sounds like a funny sort of contradiction but distraction can be the best way to concentrate the mind.

10. Who is your favorite character in the book. Can you tell us why?

I think I’d have to say Fargeeta, Kriffle’s main nemesis. I like that she’s smart and funny and really quick off the mark. While Kriffle can be a bit slow and dim (he’s much more like me), Fargeeta is able to figure things out really quickly, and come up with a clever thing to say just when it’s needed – at least most of the time.

11. Are your plotting bunnies angels or demons?

This was a new one for me – I had to Google it to figure out what a plot bunny was (told you, I’m a bit slow and dim). I reckon my plot bunnies would be both. Maybe I have one on one shoulder with a halo and another on the other with a pitchfork. And they usual come hopping into my head around 2 in the morning, stopping me from sleeping. But if they never visited, I’m sure my writing would get nowhere.

Last chance to leave a comment! All commenters name will also be put into the Angels St.Patrick's Day drawing.