A Price to be Paid

With the need to inspire myself for the book I need to finish, here's a snippet. It's paranormal, and third in the Hemstreet Witches Series. The problem has not been that I don't like the characters. The issue the hero will be facing is a huge one, and I have not been sure how to handle it. 

The story is about reincarnation and the question of redemption. Can a soul who has done bad things find a way to redeem itself in a future lifetime? If so, what is the price? In the newspapers, we read about human monsters, are shocked at what they have done, and some say they go to hell for eternal punishment. What if that's not what happens after they die? 

He's a complicated character as a rancher, multimillionaire, father, lawyer and considering a run for major political office in Arizona.  What he has to deal with in terms of his soul, that's not even on his radar as he is a very practical minded person. The life he was living when he was killed in 1901 is someone he's heard very little about. He's about to learn more, and it won't make him happy.

The political aspect is probably what stopped me in September. I needed time to really think about it. I've had the time and still not sure of how to proceed but proceed I will this week.

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    He had barely gotten in from working, taken a quick shower, and opened a beer when he heard a car driving in. Out on the porch, he watched as Jason got out of his low-slung sports car.

    “Hot for March,” he said as his friend stepped onto the porch. “Maybe be an early summer. Want a Nimbus or a Lager?”

    “Make it light. I have work yet to do.”

    A few minutes later, they were sprawled on the porch lawn chairs and sipping from their beers.    “You said you needed to talk,” Asa said.

    “Your mother in town?”

    Asa shook his head. “On her way back to Flag.”

    “All right. Well, for one, we need to go over your meetings for next week. You will need some endorsements.” He handed Asa a sheet of names. “These would be a good start.”

    Scanning down them, Asa looked up. “This could all have been covered in an email.”

    Jason handed him another sheet. “These are issues likely to come up where you need to have positions.”

    “Again—why not an email?”

    “For what I want to discuss, emails are less than safe if you are being hacked."

    "Am I?" 

    "You could be and besides, I wanted this conversation face to face.”

    Asa nodded. “So spit it out.”

from Diablo Canyon

The cover is new. It represents one couple, who continue through the book, first as hero and heroine and then as secondary characters in the next two romances.

 

Diablo Canyon, which began with a dream, became one novella and then three, has been one of my more interesting writing experiences. Its writing brought together fantasy, metaphysics, science, ranch life, and the very human emotion of falling in love. 

When writing a fantasy, the one rule is the book must stay true to the world it created but otherwise-- anything goes. Because in Diablo Canyon, spirit guides and even monsters got their own points of view, it may have led to some reader confusion, which might be more difficult for readers not familiar with paranormal thinking.   The spirit guides take on a point of views in the three stories, as they struggle with fulfilling their goals. They operate (sometimes with frustration) through the small, still voice of wisdom. Only a rare human can directly see or talk to them. 

I believe I have a muse (what I call him) but can't say I've heard him arguing with anybody but me-- and a lot of what I believe to be his inspiration is through dreams, coincidences, or my subconscious (and I can pay attention or not). Having this inner voice doesn't block me from seeing the physical reality around me-- nor does he order me to do things. 

My muse or someone like him has been with me all my life. As a small child, I saw him as a playmate. My talking about what the two of us did and that he had a name worried my parents and eventually I quit seeing him. I don't think he left... although might we have different ones at different points in our lives? Regarding this, I don't know-- except in Diablo Canyon, where it was my choice-- the guide job is a lifetime commitment-- and sometimes a frustrating one.

Diablo Canyon involves the paranormal, ranch life, Montana, some unscrupulous humans, and oh yeah, a different love story for each of the three parts (or novellas depending on how someone bought them)-- the last with a rather unusual heroine.  

This is the only story/stories my partner and I published with an option. (When Fates Conspire, The Dark of the Moon, and Storm in the Canyon are offered as novellas without the spice (sensual but all descriptions stop there). Diablo Canyon, with all three parts, has the kind of heat readers can expect in my books-- ♥♥♥♥). This snippet is from the second part-- The Dark of the Moon.

     “What are you two doing here?” Racine asked-- not that she wasn’t grateful.

     “Curiosity,” Remus responded and then looked toward the horseman who had now stopped and was watching them.

     “Who are you?” Pace asked his gaze moving from one to the other. 

    Racine didn't like that one bit. It was disturbing. He saw them and believed he could talk to them. That was not how it was supposed to be. 

     “The bigger question,” Justus said, “is who are you that you see us?”

     “And can talk to us?” Racine added, trying not to sound annoyed and knowing she probably failed. 

     “Well, you aren’t exactly keeping yourselves secret, now are you?” Pace hooked his knee over the horn of the saddle and lit a cigarette. “What are your names?”

     They told him. “Generally we are unseen,” Remus added with a bemused expression.  “It’s not often we run across a human who is aware of the third dimension.”

     Pace smoked. “I didn’t ask for it.” 

     “Heritage then?”   

     He nodded. “It can be inconvenient.”  

     “Get you institutionalized if you aren’t careful,” Justus agreed with a laugh. 

     “So I’ve been told. You already know who I am. Now I want to know why you are here. Not on Aganes’ side, that much is obvious.”   

     “You know the demon's name?” Justus now sounded more surprised than disturbed.   

     “I’ve met up with him before in my… uh work.” 

     “Cole hired you for the job,” Remus said. “We heard that much. He didn’t know all about you though did he? Not all about you.” 

     Pace shrugged. “He could have. He and I have not actually met. He hired me through the investigative agency where I work. Dirk Langston runs it. The thing is, Cole wouldn’t have hired our agency if he hadn’t wanted something more than the usual.” 

     “Why would Cole want that that?”   

     “At the moment, I can only guess,” he said with a smile.  

     “How much does Myra know?” Racine asked, feeling increasingly troubled by this whole conversation. Humans should only be able to see spirits when they died. Pace seemed very much alive. Was he a warlock or sorcerer. 

     “Neither,” he said, as if he’d heard the question she knew she hadn’t voiced. 

     “Your buddy was right. I inherited it. It came down through the men in my family. When I was small, my father taught me not to fear what I was seeing but then added don’t let others know—at least not until you can trust them.” He drew deeply on the cigarette.

     “So it was a gift,” Remus suggested.

     Pace’s laugh held no humor. “It is what it is-- as I have observed a lot with life. The question I have is what are the two of you doing here? I’ve seen the little beauty there around.” He gestured toward Racine. “You two are new.”

     “How much do you really know of the other side?” Remus asked.

     “No more than I have to..."

 

more controversial than I figured...

When writing Going Home, I knew I was taking on some controversy when I had my hero fight for the South. This also is the most multicultural book I have written with secondary characters who are Chinese, Jewish, Native American, and half black and half white. What I did not expect was my own country again to be debating the causes of a war that was fought from 1861 to 1865. This was a war though that tore a nation apart and the healing didn't happen quickly even in far off places like Oregon. 

My hero, Jed, faced more than those who hated anyone who fought for the South. Eastern Oregon was caught up in another Indian War-- The Snake War was one of Oregon's most violent. This clip has three men discussing the current and previous situation. They sat on a porch in Eastern Oregon as night made them reflective.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt from Going Home:

“Part of my crew are two Warm Springs,” Jed said as he watched the smoke rise. The moon had just come up and was casting an eerie glow on the other men’s faces. He supposed his also. “I wonder if they will feel safe to return.”

“They might not want to leave their people,” Rand agreed. “The Snakes aren’t any friendlier to peace loving Indians than they are to whites. Right now they want to wipe any sign of us from their land.”

“Again,” Adam said, “I understand how they feel, but I’d have to kill them also to keep my own safe and protect my land. I wish there was a better way for men to resolve their differences.”

Phillips looked then at Jed, met his gaze. “Sometimes there isn’t and yet here we are, sipping a whiskey, smoking, when a year ago, Jed and I would have been trying to kill each other. Rather ironic, isn’t it.”

“You expect the Indian conflicts could end up the same way?” Jed asked with a touch of disbelief even if he wished it to be so.

“Once there is a clear victor.”

“You expect there will be,” Jed said laconically.

“Eventually. Hard feelings or not, this is a problem of land. It seems unlikely to be settled short of a lot of dying. I may not like it, but it’s how the world has always operated. The military tries to make peace but again and again it’s undermined by those who want control. What do you do about that?”

“Peace is found in a cemetery and sent there with a bullet,” Jed said with some bitterness. Two of his brothers had paid the ultimate price as they had tried to secure their land. Just because it had always been that way didn’t mean it should.

 

too busy and still too dry here in my part of the PNW

This has been a particularly busy time for me in the writing area. Echoes from the Past is out as a prerelease-- on sale for $2.99 until it is delivered August 5th (that's when it is paid also). 

The edit for the third Oregon historical seemed to take forever. I thought I had it in perfect condition-- not so much. It goes to its beta readers next week and then will be published September 21st. 

In the midst of that, I have been doing some cover work. One advantage of being an indie writer is I have total control over my covers. That means if they don't quite hit the mark, I can only blame myself. It also though means when I want to change one, I can do it. 

I wrote about one of those changes in my Rain Trueax author page at Facebook. This is a place anyone can access without being a member or even joining Facebook. If cover art and the philosophy behind it interests you, check the link out: 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Rain-Trueax/200584236675973

If you are interested in reading about my writing process, etc., it's also a good place to bookmark and visit now and again as I write tidbits there frequently, most on the writing.

The new cover perfectly suits Evening Star, a book I wrote years back but only now have a visual image for what that hero looked like :). A lot of my heroes are that way. When I finally find the right face and expression, I am happy :).