Category Archives: Science Fiction

NaNoWriMo – Chap 10 & 11 – Black Magic Bullets

Day four of NaNoWriMo and got in about 1,500 words. I came up a little short but had to really think about the central mystery and its relationship to the plot. One character’s name became very important, and I had to craft it carefully.

The title also found it’s way into the manuscript. I was wondering if that would happen. You’ll see what I’m talking about if you give it a read.

This is a very rough 1st draft written by the seat of my pants, but I’m trying to give you as tight a manuscript as possible. Feel free to give me feedback. I have a very thick skin.

In other news: I had an editor contact me today inquiring about I story I had submitted. She asked if the story had ever been sold before. I’m thinking she wanted to make sure it wasn’t a reprint. I let her know the story was an original with all rights available. I haven’t heard back yet, but I am hopeful. I’ll let you know what happens.

BLACK MAGIC BULLETS

An Urban Fantasy

David North-Martino

Working as an Inhuman Resources Recruiter is no walk through the cemetery, especially when you’ve been cursed and your head is filled with stollen secrets from one of the most powerful occult groups in Boston. To survive, you might just need a few…

BLACK MAGIC BULLETS.

Chapter 10

I followed Kenzi to a new destination. When we entered the vestibule, I realized she had been serious. What else did this place have in store?

Inside the small room, she grabbed a pair of eye and ear protection, handing them to me before grabbing her own.

I put the glasses on first and then the muffs. The ear cups created a suction, clamping over my ears, isolating my sense of hearing from the outside environment. My breathing sounded loud in my head. I had always found the experience disconcerting, and today was no exception.

In an attempt to be a gentleman, I opened the heavy door for Kenzi. She didn’t protest. Following close behind, we entered the range proper.

Like most indoor ranges, the air was damp, much like a basement. It told me the place had good ventilation, important for filtering out all the atomized lead, gunpowder, and other combustible contaminants released with each shot fired.

We were met with more battleship gray and surrounded by impenetrable concrete. The shooting muffs not only isolated my breathing, but also every footfall thudded in my head.

Kenzi had transferred the pistol to a hard carrier and now placed it on a bench at the middle booth. She then plunked down a 50 round box of .45 ASP hollow-points.

Manstoppers.

After the meeting with the lemur, humans scared him less than they ever had. He wondered if Dreadstone was in the possession of any rounds that could stop something like that.

It had been a long time since I’d been to a range. Shooting was an expensive hobby and I didn’t have the money to invest. If this job worked out, my luck just might be changing.

She stepped aside to let me do my thing.

Great.

This felt like a test of sorts.

Forcing myself to take it slow and steady, I removed the Colt from the case and locked it into battery before placing it on the bench.

Next, I loaded the two seven-round magazines and arranged them beside the firearm. So far, so good.

Kenzi brought over a silhouette target, tacket it up, and ran the motorized conveyer until it reached 21 feet away.

She stepped away as if to say, it was all me.

Retrieving the Colt, it felt solid and well balanced in my hand. I seated the first magazine and then racked the slide to chamber a round.

Focused on the target, I lifted the weapon and settled into an isosceles stance. Both arms outstretched creating a triangle parallel to my chest. My upper body ached from the fight with the lemur. I focused on the pain then allowed it to fade away. Dropping my weight and bending my knees, I leaned forward ever so slightly.

Flicked the safety off with my thumb.

Breath in.

Line up front sights to rear.

Breath out.

Squeeze trigger, don’t pull.

Blam!

The colt bucked.

Again.

The acrid scent of gunpowder rose in the air but quickly dissipated into the duct system.

I continued the process until all rounds were spent, and the gun automatically returned to battery.

Turning my palm up, I released the magazine and returned both to the bench.

Kenzi had been watching from behind the whole time. Now she came back, flicking the switch in the opposite direction to retrieve the target.

“You’re listing to the left,” she said, examining the holes in the target.

No shit. She didn’t need to overstate the obvious.

Following her lead I removed my ear protection, let the muffs rest on my neck. The cool air felt good on my ears.

“Nothing that can’t be fixed. You just need to adjust your grip,” she said. “That’s good enough for me. I wanted to make sure you could properly handle a firearm before we go into the field.”

“I’m carrying a gun?” I asked, incredulous.

“You have a CCW?” Kenzi asked. Those were the initials for a Concealed Carry Weapons permit, or in Mass known as a Class A License to Carry Firearms Unrestricted. Seemed the powers that be in the Commonwealth thought the CCW term too appealing to the general populace.

I nodded.

“Then it’s your choice,” she said. “I’ll be armed. I suggest you do the same until can do your wizardry in the Collective.”

Kenzi replaced the target with a fresh one and sent it back the same distance.

“Watch and learn,” she said, putting on her eyes and ears. I rushed to keep up.

Drawing her carry gun she mimicked my earlier stance and lobbed maybe 15 rounds of lead down the lane. I lost count.

Once the gun returned to battery, Kenzi smoothly turned her hand without taking her eyes off the target. She depressed the magazine release, letting it fall to the ground. With her eyes still on the target she retrieved and seated a new magazine and then racked the slide. Another fifteen rounds flew. She reloaded and then holstered her weapon.

The target rocketed back with a flick of a switch.

A nice tight grouping.

“Nice,” I said and I meant it. I was very impressed.

“That’s how you practice level one combat shooting,” Kanzi said. “I have one other thing to show you.”

She took out a .45 round that if not for the coating of black fingernail polish would have looked ordinary.

“I’m not getting it,” I said.

“This is a black magic bullet,” Kenzi said. “They can be used on the possessed, shifters, zombies, anything in meatspace infused with power from the Collective.

“Why don’t you just carry silver bullets?”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

“What makes that different for an ordinary round?” I asked, half expecting her to say black magic.

“We have a wizard augment them in the Collective,” Kenzi said “It’s a specialty. Not something just anyone can do.”

“What’s next?” I asked. Did I really want to know?

“You’re full of questions today, aren’t ya,” Kenzi said with a wink. “Chavvi must have something for us by now.”

Chapter 11

“Tell me you have some good news,” Kenzi said as walked through the entry, beads clacking against each other behind us.

“I might have something,” Chavvi said, rising from her cushion.

The impression I get is of a violent death. Deep, dark emotions. Terrible, really.”

Poor Dedra. Not only had the end of her life been horrible, but even in death, she was affected by the circumstances of her demise.

“Anyway to find her body?” I asked. It was unclear as to whether I’d be able to help her. Kenzi had indicated something would be held back until Dedra fulfilled her half of the bargain.

“The impression I get is that her body was disposed of in an abandoned building. I get a distinct impression it’s near the waterfront. I feel a constriction on the throat like she had been strangled. But I also see a man’s tie, wider than normal. I hope that was helpful.

“Yes, thank you,” Kenzi said. “It’s at least something to go on. Let me know if anything else comes to mind.”

Then Kenzi looked at me.

“It time I introduced you to the Body.”

To be continued…

The Scribe’s Arcanum: Anatomy of a Sale—The Mesomorphic Woman Part 2

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Having decided my next story would be a dystopian short that drew inspiration from Cyberpunk and Steampunk, I envisioned a biosphere orbiting Venus, a once utopian society that had succumbed to decadence and decay.

A fad on the space station/biosphere Audallis had the citizens dressing and speaking as if they lived in the Roaring Twenties and early 1930s.

Yet, with a muscle-bound heroin, I chose to draw from the subgenre of feminist SF.

Recently, I had an industry insider incredulous at the fact that I had a story included in a feminist publication, and not just included, included as the lead story! How did that happen, she inquired? You’ll have to wait to at least part III to find out that piece of trivia. Oh yeah, you’re in for the long haul. Haha!

For many years, I’ve tried to stay away from politics. The old saying is you should never discuss politics or religion in polite company. And my politics have changed over the years.

While earning my original undergraduate degree (an associate’s, later, I earned my bachelor’s) I took gender issues classes, women’s lit, and psychology of women. My girlfriend at the time (now my wife) had a phase where she was reading the current feminist books. I studied them and referenced them for my papers. The professors loved me, as you could well imagine.

I infused the narrative with what I had read during my college days.

I never completed the initial draft of the story. Finding myself 8,000 words deep, and with my day career taking off, and eating up much of my time, I decided I had completed my initial goal of racking up my first rejection letters. I felt oddly satisfied.

I’d written half a dozen short stories, sent them to market, and received positive responses for my efforts. Had I made a sale? No. But I was sure if I continued on I would. I was right, but back then it was easier to give up than face failure or even success. Maybe success seemed scarier. I had built up the story in my mind and trusted it would make me as a writer. It seems funny now but part of me felt that if I finished that story, publishing would welcome me with open arms and Hollywood would pay through the nose for a movie adaption. It was a great fantasy.

A couple years went by. Long workdays as a security manager monopolized my time. Business writing replaced creative work. Then I was promoted into human resources in the same company, and a normal nine to five schedule left me with lots of extra hours to fill. I could finally sleep nights without worrying about a pager going off. Like Neil Diamond, “I felt an emptiness deep inside.” I couldn’t remember what I had liked to do outside of the day job.

At first, I returned to martial arts. Even though I have always loved martial arts, training didn’t quell my emptiness.

I discovered the horror community online, a group of writers who had gone underground after the 1980’s horror fiction implosion.

Reading through the message board they frequented, I decided it was high time I returned to writing. I dusted off my old manuscript, the science fiction story with the working title, Violent Fall, and felt complete once again.

Finishing the story sent me on a very long journey to see it published.

We’ll talk about how that happened next time.

The Scribe’s Arcanum: Anatomy of a Sale—The Mesomorphic Woman Part 1

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In 2012 and 2013 the floodgates opened with numerous story sales and publications. I even published my first novella, an ebook. Then I lost momentum. Everything from that time is a scramble in my brain. I had a death in the family that threw me for a loop, multiple projects, and high hopes.

It began with the sale of a short story originally envisioned and started in 1996, then finished and rewritten in the year 2000. I never imagined how long it’d take to sell that story. Yes, 12 years to sell it and 13 years to see it in publication, if we only count from the year of the rewrite.

I’m sometimes asked when you should give up on a story. It’s a hard question to answer. Some stories sell quickly, some take longer, and some never sell. In this business perseverance is everything.

The origin of the story begins much earlier than even 1996 though. The first inkling arrived when I was in high school. Back then, a new game show appeared on the air later at night, at least in my market. The program, American Gladiators, pitted superhero type muscle men and women against your run of the mill athletic but common Joe and Janes.

The contrast reminded me of Joe Buscemma’s depiction of the superhero vs. the ordinary person in How to Draw Comics the Marvel Way.

While watching the program, an idea hatched. Raye Hollitt (Skin Deep), a female bodybuilder who used the stage name Zap, inspired me.

Wouldn’t it be interesting to cast her in an action film like the ones in which Sylvester Stallone or Arnold Schwarzenegger starred? I decided the world was not ready for that idea, and besides, I didn’t know how to write or submit a screenplay, anyway.

Around 1996, with the 1980s horror fiction implosion far behind me, I returned to reading Science Fiction. I picked up copies of science fiction magazines, read Neuromancer, and caught up on some 80’s SF I had missed.

While perusing an issue of Science Fiction Age, I read a steampunk story and used it as the model for the tone of my next manuscript. Continuing to take my cue from that story, I mirrored not only the mood, but the female lead. Unfortunately, after looking through a pile of back issues, I haven’t been able to identify the story that inspired me.

As I wrote, the muscular female idea reemerged and Irina Kira was born. I remember reading or thinking Kira was a Russian name that meant Strong woman. Although, Kira, from my research for this post, means “leader of the people.”

I decided a Russian first name, Irena, which means peace, matched one theme of the story. Leading the people into peace seems à propos, but what happens after the end of the story is up to your interpretation.

I envisioned a muscular woman living in what had once been a utopian society within a biosphere orbiting Venus. A popular self-help book of the time, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, inspired me to use Venus as the location for the orbiting biosphere space station.

Looking for a name for the biosphere/space station, I dreamed up the Audallis Sphere. It sounded like something out of a SF story.

I came up with a history of the biosphere and the science behind Audallis’ artificial gravity, neither made the completed manuscript.

Then I chose to include a controversial idea that would forever change the direction of the manuscript.

We’ll talk about that next time.

The Scribe’s Arcanum: Anatomy of a First Sale—Part 1

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The Scribe’s Arcanum

Anatomy of a First Sale—Part 1

How do you get published traditionally? A lot of newer writers have this question. I can tell you how I did it, giving you some insight into the process. This will be a longer post, probably the longest of the Anatomy of a Sale series since I have to start from the beginning. I’ll try to work though the background information quickly.

I wrote my real first short stories back in junior high. I had the opportunity to read a story to the class, and once I did, I become known as: The Writer. There was another classmate who was known as: The Artist. I was envious of him as I had wanted to be an artist myself, a comic book illustrator to be exact, but found what I really wanted to do was tell a story. I discovered in short order it was easier to tell a story with words than with pictures——at least it was for me.

Then in high school I wrote a short story for an English class. At the time, I was trying to sail under the radar. I couldn’t help but take up the challenge, and once my teacher saw I had talent, I lost the ability to remain invisible in that class. There’s a lot more to this story, but I’ll save it for another day.

Fast forward to late 1996, early 1997. After a couple years of marriage, I felt settled down and focused enough to try my hand at writing again. This time I wanted to see if I could make a fiction sale. I told my wife as much, asking her to buy me a Writer’s Digest Short Story Market for Christmas/Hanukkah.

I made her a promise that with that tome by my side, I would write a story and send it out. If nothing else, I’d get my first rejection letter.

I had researched enough to know that even top writers like Stephen King had spent a great deal of time collecting rejection slips. I felt that getting a “thanks, but no thanks” letter was an achievable goal, and it kept me from worrying about the results. The worst that could happen was that I would be sent an acceptance letter and not get my goal of a rejection. That would have been a “failure” I could live with.

I wrote my first story, with an eye towards making a sale, on a Brother word processor, sending out a hard copy in the mail and waiting breathlessly for the post office to send me a response. Instead of a rejection, I was surprised to read a short note informing me that that the magazine had just gone out of business.

Immediately, I sent the story to a small press magazine. A few months later I received a very nice note written on a form rejection letter stating: “Good story! Just too traditional for this publication.” Not a bad first rejection. In-fact, it’s extremely good. Much better than I realized at the time.

Most of my rejections were like this. I had immediately received encouraging letters and notes, but no sales. It was a better sign than I could have known. I was close, but life was getting in the way. By the end of 1997 I had transitioned into a management position in the security industry. Producing reports and policies and procedures manuals kept me writing, and a 24 hour pager and 16 hour shifts kept me exhausted and with little time for anything else.

In the year 2000 I completed a transition to a human resources position, regaining some of the time I had lost. With extra time came an emptiness I couldn’t seem to fill. I had returned to martial arts over a year earlier (having left my old school in 1997) and even though I loved my training, it wasn’t enough to fill me up. It was only when I returned to writing that I felt whole again.

That year, I found a message board frequented by horror writers who had been popular in the 1980s. These authors had been my writing heroes, and they inspired me to return to my horror roots. Before that, I had spent most of my time writing science fiction. I figured I understood the horror genre more than SF, and that I would have a publication credit in no time. How wrong I was!

In 2004 I placed a short story, “Graven Image,” with a webzine called The Swamp. I didn’t get paid for that “sale” but I did get an acceptance, something I sorely needed at the time.

It wouldn’t be until 2006 when I made my first sale. Yes, It would take me six years to make my first paid sale. Persistance pays off. Persistance and practice. I’ll tell you how that happened next time. Stay tuned.

January in Review

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In an attempt to keep some sort of momentum going with this blog, I’ve decided to give you an update on what I’ve been working on during the month of January. It’s been a pretty good month. I’m hoping to make a couple videos soon that will show how I go about goal setting and planning my year. Until then, I give you this…

Writing

Short Fiction

My SF/Horror story “Sat Down Inside Her” was accepted into the untitled 3rd annual New England Horror Writer’s anthology slated for an early summer release. More information to come.
I received a rejection from a top market with a “hope to see more stories from you in the future” from the editor. As one writer commented on FB, “I hope you know that’s a fabulous response.” Some of my non-writer friends don’t understand how a rejection can be a good thing. Suffice it to say that when an editor from a top pro market says he’d like to see more of your work, you know your writing is near or at the level of that market. All that it will take is writing a story that catches the editor’s fancy to get an acceptance letter. Maybe that and a little luck. As you can well imagine, cracking this market has been put on the top of my goal list.

Novels

Year of the Demon (Conspiracy/Crime Thriller): I began working on the 3rd draft of this 90,000 word novel.
The Tower (Paranormal Haunting/Woman in Jeopardy Crime Thriller) : I’m approximately 15,200 words or 61 pages into the first draft of this novel. Currently, I’m projecting that it will run about 90,000 words when completed.
Proxy Mate (Dystopian SF) : I’m approximately 11,250 words or 45 pages into what most likely will be a novella. At present, I have no idea how long this story will run.
Wolves of Vengeance (Multi-Genre Supernatural Thriller): has had an uptick is sales and borrows this month. Updating the book description, changing the genre descriptors, and gaining a couple more glowing reviews has seemed to help.

Reading

I finished Red Champagne by Reb MacRath, and highly recommend.
Completed Write, Publish, Repeat. I thought it was a decent read with some interesting concepts on Indy publishing. Also began Let’s Get Digital.
I just started A Different Kind of Slumber by Doug Rinaldi, and am enjoying it.

Family & Friends

Called my parents at least once per week.
Kept in contact with my aunt through email.
Celebrated Patty’s birthday.
Kept up with friends on social media.
Contacted my friend and former Gothic & Arthurian lit professor through email to stay in touch.
Lit a candle for my sister on the anniversary of her death.

Martial Arts

So many good seminars this month, and I wasn’t able to attend any of them. At least I got plety of training in at home.
Five or six rounds of shadowboxing at least 2x per week with Patty using the Bas Rutten MMA Workout audio CDs.
Practiced Kali sinawali
Continued practicing Naihanchi forms

Fitness & Health

Lost a half inch from my waist and about a pound of fat since I began tracking again.
Began using myfitnesspal again to track my weightloss and fitness goals.
Utilized the original P90X DVDs a few times this month, doing about 30 minutes each (focused on Core Synergistics and Back & Chest).
Had my semi-annual dental cleaning.

Cars

Had D service on my car, along with an oil change.
Had my car inspected and a parking light replaced.

Thing Goals

Bought a set of precision screwdrivers at Ace Hardware. I’m going to upgrade the memory in my Mac. That’s the plan, at least.

House

General cleaning and maintenance.

Whisky Tasting

I’ve enjoyed drinking Glenmorangie The Original and Glenlevit 12. I’m very new to the world of whisky snobbery, but I find that it suits me. Haha! I enjoyed a sample of Glenlevit 15, but didn’t notice much difference from the 12. Tried Talisker at the recomendation of some writer friends and have found it a very acquired taste. I’m not used to the smokey/peaty taste, and not sure I’ll ever like it. All is not lost, though. I’ll be bringing whatever is left to AnthoCon where I will be very happy to share!

General

I survived the Blizzard of 2015.
I got a haircut. I look almost human again. Almost…

Movies Watched:

World War Z ***
Escape Plan **
Captain America: The Winter Soldier ****

I’ll create an addendum if I think of anything else.

Until next time…

Free Anthology!!! Limited Time!!!!

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Extinct Doesn’t Mean Forever is FREE on Amazon today! Includes my story, “The Language of Ice.”

The Extinct Anthology will also be free on March 12th and April 10th 2012. Don’t miss out!

http://www.amazon.com/Extinct-Doesnt-Mean-Forever-ebook/dp/B004SUOWMU/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1329306095&sr=1-1

From Amazon:

Echoes of yesterday touch the lives of ordinary people in extraordinary ways in 18 provocative stories by some of the best up-and-coming authors of mainstream and speculative fiction around the world.

1. Jase was her ghost in the machine, a shaded memory captured in synthesized pixels. Near enough to see, too distant to touch. Could they still connect? – LAST SEEN by Amanda le Bas de Plumetot

2. She didn’t realize how deep her loss ran, until a saber-tooth cat helped heal the past and point her toward a future she didn’t know she needed – PAST SURVIVORS by Sarah Adams

3. Vesna discovers from an unexpected source just how old the dance of love truly is – FOOTPRINTS ON THE BEACH by Aleksandar Ziljak

4. John doted on the French touring car he’d lovingly restored. Can his dead wife teach him other things are worthy of his love too? – THE RESTORATION MAN by Simon John Cox

5. When a single mum returns home to Tasmania with her young son, her efforts to settle back in take a strange twist – A DARK FOREST by Jen White

6. Keeping a baby dinosaur secret from prying TV people and scientists is no easy task, except when your family have been keeping sacred traditions secret for generations – MY OWN SECRET DINOSAUR by Jo Antareau

7. When a Neanderthal skeleton arrives at her museum, Cassie learns a woman dead for thousands of years still has something to teach the living – THE LANGUAGE OF ICE by David North-Martino

8. With human hunters closing in, Kerg concocts a desperate plan for survival. Just one problem: he isn’t the only one looking out for family – TWILIGHT OF THE CLAW by Adam Dunsby

9. Lucia doesn’t believe in angels — but she might believe in a little boy cloned from a forgotten race – THE ANGEL GENOME by Chrystalla Thoma

10. Geri’s father finds the remains of an alien culture, proof we’re not alone. But he leaves Geri feeling more alone than ever – IN RING by Scott Thomas Smith

11. Had it been left to protocols rather than human ingenuity, Commander West’s expedition might have overlooked one of Mars’ greatest treasures – BONES OF MARS by D Jason Cooper

12. Endless Power, Inc prepared Angel for the physical dangers of harnessing a new energy source. But no one prepared him for how to cope afterward – HUNTING THE MANTIS by Adam Knight

13. Bridges of meaning built through symbols alienate as much as connect. But the Virtual Bridge Sri plans could reconnect the lost hopes of a dying civilization – CONNECT by Kenneth Burstall

14. Fleeing with the last remnants of the Oshen race, Indigo has only one chance to ensure his people are never forgotten – INDIGO’S GAMBIT by Adam Israel

15. When his pampered world loses the technology it depends on, extinction looms faster than lonely survivor Levo could ever expect – BLOOD FRUIT by Shona Snowden

16. When a new bio-weapon in the wars on drugs and terror gets out of control, can the supplier really be held responsible? – A THORNY DILEMMA by Rory Steves

17. Capturing mammoths was all in a day’s work for Deke. The saber-tooth cat, though, was going to require something bigger than an elephant gun – INVOICE H10901: 3 WOOLY MAMMOTHS by Robert J. Sullivan

18. After George makes a momentous discovery, the distractions start piling up. His wife cooks up a surprise to remind him love is always worth sacrificing for – DISTRACTIONS by Peter Dudley

Guest Author: Chrystalla Thoma

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Chrystalla Thoma, author of Rex Rising: Book One of Elei’s Chronicles, a YA Science Fiction e-book, is my guest today. She discusses her new book, and gives us some insight into how she comes up with her story ideas.

Dave: Hi Chrystalla, welcome to my blog. Can you first tell us a few things about yourself?

Chrystalla: Hi dear Dave, thanks for having me over. This is one of those questions that is vital and yet hard to answer – what is important about me? So let’s see… I’m a Sagittarius, and I read somewhere that people born under this sign always travel but give their heart to only one person, and both have been true of me. I am Greek Cypriot but have lived outside Cyprus since I was eighteen, only returning to settle in my old neighborhoods quite recently. I have lived on stories ever since I can remember and writing since I was ten. I love cold beer and hate raw meat. I have a fascination with magic and science, the boundaries of which blur a little in my mind, and am married to a marine biologist. I love the sea but I get seasick on boats, am Greek but write in English, write poetry but also fast-paced action prose, love cats but don’t own one. Strange, you say? Authors can be like that. 🙂

Dave: We have both published short stories in the anthology “Extinct Doesn’t Mean Forever”, edited by Phoenix Sullivan and published by Dare To Dream press. Can you tell us what your story is about?

Chrystalla: The Angel Genome is one of my favorite self-written stories. What if the legends of angels arose from an extinct human branch? Lucia doesn’t believe in angels – but she might believe in the cloned child of a forgotten race.

I wrote the story more than two years ago and it was one of those tales that demand to be written. I’d never imagined a call for stories would come along where this story would fit so snuggly – although I’ve had people hesitate, then tell me, “but angels never existed. So, how is this science fiction?” Aha! 🙂 Although we don’t know whether a human race ever existed which had special traits and which was later remembered as a race of “angels” as we think of them today, many branches of the human tree have been recently discovered, which survived until relatively recently (for example the Homo Floresiensis). What science fiction explores is not only which races could have been brought back to life, but what else science could bring back – what else we don’t know about – and here is where imagination comes in. We had ancient ancestors that were tiny, or huge, or ate only fruit on the trees. What if we also had ancestors who had wings?

Dave: What is your most recent writing project?

Chrystalla: I write sci-fi and fantasy in equal measures, therefore it is only due to the law of probability (or fate?) that my most recent project is a sci-fi as well. Rex Rising is a Young Adult Science Fiction novel about Elei, a young aircar driver in a world where parasites create new human races. He leads a peaceful life — until a mysterious attack on his boss sends him fleeing with a bullet in his side. Pursued for a secret he does not possess and with the fleet at his heels, he has but one thought: to stay alive. His pursuers aren’t inclined to sit down and talk, although that’s not the end of Elei’s troubles. The two powerful parasites inhabiting his body, at a balance until now, choose this moment to bring him down, leaving Elei with no choice but to trust in people he hardly knows in a mad race against time. It won’t be long before he realizes he must find out this deadly secret – a secret that might change the fate of his world and everything he has ever known – or die trying.

Dave: What inspired this story?

Chrystalla: When I say “parasites”, many people shudder. Yet, when you read sci-fi and paranormal fiction, many “conditions”, even vampirism, being a zombie, or having supernatural abilities, can be (and sometimes are) attributed to parasites, be they viruses or other kinds. Truth is, we humans have many symbionts – we happily (and often unhappily) live together with many other organisms inside our bodies. Our bodies are so used to having parasites, that lack of them has caused certain diseases of our era – auto-immune system diseases (like Crohn’s disease) and allergies, which are due to the fact that the body, finding no parasites to fight as it has used to do for thousands of years, turns upon itself and starts to destroy its own tissues. Recent research has found out that for patients with Crohn’s disease the best therapy is often the introduction of hookworms and other relatively harmless parasites.

I highly recommend a book by Carl Zimmer, called “Parasite Rex” to anyone who would like to read more about this fascinating topic.

Dave: Interesting! Thanks for coming over, Chrystalla. Where can one find you on the internet and read your stories?

Chrystalla: You can follow my ramblings and news about my writing and stories here: http://chrystallathoma.wordpress.com

You can find Rex Rising at the following distributors:

Watch the book trailer:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H-6Gxf8oQas

Chrystalla’s short story “The Angel Genome” can be found in the Extinct Doesn’t Mean Forever anthology (click on image!):

You can also find her short story separately (click on the Image!):

U.S. Writer Saving Tassie Devil

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For Immediate Release:

US WRITER SAVING TASSIE DEVIL

It might seem a long way from home, but U.S. author David North-Martino has joined with 18 other writers worldwide in an initiative to help save one of Australia’s most beloved and endangered species, the Tasmanian devil.

From July 1 to 15th, all proceeds from their anthology EXTINCT DOESN’T MEAN FOREVER, published by Dare to Dream Press, are being donated to the Save the Tasmanian Devil Appeal.

“We have several Australian writers featured in the anthology and when we were looking for a charity to sponsor, they told us about the plight of the Tasmanian devils,” says Phoenix Sullivan of US-based Dare to Dream Press. “We immediately decided that we had to get involved.”

EXTINCT DOESN’T MEAN FOREVER features 19 provocative stories by some of the best up-and-coming authors of mainstream and speculative fiction around the world. Here is the description of David North-Martino’s story “The Language of Ice”: When a Neanderthal skeleton arrives at her museum, Cassie learns a woman dead for thousands of years still has something to teach the living.

Tasmanian devils are threatened by Devil Facial Tumor Disease, which is passed from devil to devil by biting. According to the Save the Tasmanian Devil program, a partnership between Australian and Tasmanian Governments, there has been an average 80% decline in devil sightings across Tasmania from 1992-95 to 2003-06. The program aims to see the Tasmanian devil again thriving in the wild through population monitoring, disease diagnostics, wild management and an insurance program – building a population of healthy devils that might eventually be released into the wild.

EXTINCT DOESN’T MEAN FOREVER is an e-publication and is available from Amazon, Smashwords and Barnes & Noble online. The Save the Tasmanian Devil Appeal can be found at: http://www.tassiedevil.com.au/tasdevil.nsf/.