THRESHOLD: HISTORICAL FICTION FROM GREGORY FIGG

Book title: Threshold

Series: Engines of Ascendancy

Series number: I

Release: Get it NOW!

Synopsis: 

The long, hot summer of 1295 is a time of intermittent war and economic desperation in Western Christendom.  The kingdoms of England and France find themselves increasingly embroiled in internal and external conflict that threatens to tear society and religion apart.

Amidst this discord, a quarryman in English-occupied Wales makes a unique discovery; a stone of such improbable beauty and perfection to be of divine origin.  Looking to deny the oppressive English rulers such treasure, he secretly tries to sell it on to merchants in the area – who happen to be Templar agents looking for just such an object.  It is not long before the local lord becomes aware of the theft, and soon enough those involved become aware that this stone is unlike any treasure they could possibly have imagined.

Thus, in this small corner on the edge of Christendom, events are set in motion that will impact so many across the continent, from peasants, partisans and spies to knights, bishops and monarchs.  In all reaches of society, interested and indifferent parties alike are forced to react to the discovery and nature of what becomes known as the Godstone.  Memories are stirred, beliefs questioned, and prophecy and destiny hang in the balance in a wide-ranging tale of intrigue, duty, revenge and love across the cities, forests and mountains of thirteenth-century Europe.

Why do I write?

Guest Article from Gregory Figg

Why do I write?  I’m interested in writing stories that work on multiple layers, to better reflect the full experience of our own lives.  We don’t just have one narrative and dynamic running through our lives at any one point, nor one sole concern.  Neither do the circumstances we encounter and experience exist with just our own input.  Every situation or event is rich in detail, cause and effect – these are almost limitless both regarding the obvious and the inscrutable, and it is in this depth that I find the fascination of historical fiction and reconstruction.  We all daydream and imagine what life would be like in some other place or time, so why not create that experience?  Having grown up with my head in historical books, both fiction and non-fiction, I have great appreciation for the historians and novelists who painstakingly recreate their interpretations of what life was like in another place and time.  To create a plausible world in which the reader can immerse and lose themselves as much as I have done in writing the stories is my ambition.  I want to truly empower the reader to visit other worlds and live other lives, for this is the ultimate gift and experience I can give.  I aim to harness the unlimited power of the reader’s imagination and take them on an adventure that will stay with them for life, as memorable as any in real life, as is the case with so many of the novels that I have read.

This is what I hope to achieve with Engines of Ascendancy.  It is a grand ambition, of course, and very possibly foolhardy, but I see no reason not to attempt it whilst I have the opportunity to do so.  Although educated in the ancient and early modern to modern eras of European history, the middle ages holds particular interest for me – long enough ago (and therefore far enough away) to be exotic, but still close enough to be familiar.  Most London streets retain the same name and layout they did seven hundred years ago.  The village in which I grew up, Danbury, had historically already been settled for nearly two thousand years by the time the book’s story opens in 1295.  People worked, played, loved, fought, laughed, grieved just as they do today, and always have done.  I just hope to give a glimpse of my interpretation of their lives by means of exciting, inter-twining and in-depth storylines on an epic scale, to cater for those who, like me, are passionate about the past and really want to get stuck in.

Learning is an archetypal human trait, integral to our identity, whilst storytelling has been a staple of human society since before our earliest ancestors could use spoken language.  If I can find a way to convincingly blend the two, then I will be happy.  If someone else finds enjoyment from this blend, then I will be over the moon.

About the author: Gregory Figg is an author of historical fiction from London, UK.  He writes novels outside of his day job as a product and content marketer for an IT software company.  Having earned a BA in Ancient History and Classical Archaeology from the University of Warwick and an MA in History from the University of Essex, he has a strong background in historical study and relishes any opportunity to learn about any and all cultures through the ages.

Published in 2016, Threshold is Gregory’s debut novel and the first in his Engines of Ascendancy series.  The second title in the series, Harbinger, is in final editing for publication in the first half of 2018.  He is also well underway with writing the series’ third installment, Nemesis.

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THRESHOLD: HISTORICAL FICTION FROM GREGORY FIGG

EXCLUSIVE ESSAY FROM AUTHOR MICHAEL ESSINGTON, AUTHOR OF 'BROKEN'

Title: Broken

Author: Michael Essington

Release: Grab it NOW on Amazon! 

Synopsis

Sometimes in life, you have to stop and take a look at things. When I was growing up in the San Fernando Valley, back in the 1970s and 80s, I rarely saw anyone that was homeless, visibly drunk or high or anyone that was mentally ill. That is until I became involved in the Los Angeles punk scene. While I met people that I am still close with to this day, punk rock introduced me to an underbelly of society. I met drag queens, street kids, dope heads, speed freaks, and other marginal people.

Under the umbrella of punk rock, it wasn't shocking. We were all creatures on the Island of Misfit Toys. Most people, at that time, hated punk rockers, so most of us were just trying to get by in life; there wasn't time to hate some six foot five black guy in a blonde wig.

By the time the Aughts came around there were homeless camps in every city and you probably worked with somebody that was on some type of medication to keep them on the straight and narrow.

The stories in this book are told with a bit of humor but understand that I am in no way making fun of anyone that is homeless or struggling with physical of mental issues. It's the way I lay a story out. I poke fun and holes in everything I talk about, I'm usually my biggest target.

Contributed Essay by Michael Essington

When taking on the task of writing a piece on why I decided to publish Broken, a million things ran through my head. But in all honesty, it was a natural progression. You see, in my first three books (Last One To Die, Life Won’t Wait and Born Frustrated), I describe growing up in Los Angeles and being a part of the early Punk Scene.

In many ways, I was exposed to kids that were panhandling and squatting a decade or so before it became a mainstream media topic. A lot of the time I had no idea that some of these kids were homeless. We were all in a club or some rented hall and once we went to leave, an invite would go out, “Hey, come back to our place,” and “our place” would be an abandoned building.

In each of the books from the Last One To Die Trilogy I discuss a person or persons that I would come in contact with, that seemed on top of their game and then, unfortunately, I’d see them crumble. And in L.A., like many other major cities, these people seem to be on every other corner. Here’s an example of a guy, a little younger than myself that used to take my order (along with my son's) almost every weekend at McDonald’s, this is from Broken:

“As I’m walking up, there was a, somewhat, overweight guy standing outside drinking a soda. As I walk by he says “Hi.” I do a double-take and realize it’s a former employee, Bob or Bruce, who had quit a month or two earlier due to stress. I didn’t recognize him, I think he had suffered a breakdown and became homeless. I stopped and talked to him for a moment and he stared through me. I asked him what he was up to and he said he needed a job. I nodded and said times were hard. He said he wanted to work in the McDonald’s parking lot as an attorney. I said, “What?” He said he could walk around the lot and find things that were potential lawsuits, things that people could slip on, etc. I looked at him for a few seconds and wished him good luck with that and he yelled back “Looking for a job!”

When I ordered our food that morning I mentioned to the cashier that I was talking to their former co-worker out front and the cashier shook his head and said: “He’s changed.” Yeah, he sure did.”

It’s situations like this that made me want to write about the actual people that are out there. The news gives us statistics about homelessness, and stories of people being arrested for feeding those on the street and occasionally an aerial shot of Skid Row, but we don’t know anything about the people. Just as we don’t know anything about the behaviors or eating habits of the animals at the zoo. Am I comparing the homeless to the animals at the zoo? Of course not. But much like the animals, most people like the homeless at arm's length.

As I was pulling the ideas and stories together, I really made a concentrated effort to walk around more and remember faces. Stream different stories together that involve the same people.

Another experience I had that was so peaceful, that it almost felt mystical, I included in Broken:

“On October 31, 2009, I took my son to breakfast at McDonald’s on Vanowen and Balboa. It was empty, quiet and the playground was open for him.

As a regular breakfast consumer of McDonald’s I get used to people panhandling. If I eat deeper into Van Nuys most people bypass me, thinking I don’t know Spanish, so they walk on.

I give change, or, on occasion, they just want my coffee cup before it’s thrown away.

On Sunday, I see a guy walk in; he looks like the mountain man from The Oak Ridge Boys. A little roughed up, but not dirty. Boots seemed clean. He didn’t seem to order; he placed his travel roll in a booth, and kind of walked around.

At this point, my son had finished his food and wanted to play outside. So, we went to play.

After, about, a half an hour my son was done and wanted to head home. Right as I was starting to stand-up the bearded Mountain Man came walking into the play area. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a dollar. Before I could hand it over, the Man said I want you to have these. He proceeded to give me two coupons for a free cup of coffee. One coupon for a free breakfast sandwich, and a gift card that he said: “Might only have forty cents on it, but use it to buy your little one an ice cream.”

I told him I couldn’t accept it, that he should keep it. Use it for tomorrow’s breakfast. He said, “You keep it, I’m fine.”

I pocketed my dollar, his coupons, and the gift card. Before I could look up, he was making his way out the driveway, pulling his travel roll. I called out to him, “Let me drive you somewhere.”

He said, “No, I’m fine.” He pointed to the bus stop, and said, “There are things I want to see.”

Turned left out of the driveway, and looked at him waiting for the bus, puzzled.

He stood looking up at the sky smiling.”

The two men I recount here, unfortunately, I never saw again. I have returned to both of those locations and have never seen them.

So, the basis for Broken is coming in contact with people on the streets of L.A.  On occasion, I’ll sneak in a story about someone that may not be homeless, but they are in someway Broken.

About the Author 

Michael Essington is an American author and poet, most famous for his Mike Check column. Over the years, Essington has done dozens of celebrity interviews, as well as hundreds of music reviews. The weekly Mike Check column, which appears in Strange Reaction, and the very popular Deep Red Magazine. Essington’s column is read weekly by thousands of fans from Los Angeles to Singapore to Denmark.

As an original member of the early Los Angeles punk rock scene, Essington was a member of several bands and later a popular flyer illustrator.

Essington has written since his high school days. He lives with his wife, Elizabeth, son Lucas, and a pug named Max, that Essington suspects may have a learning disability or a general lack of life goals.

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EXCLUSIVE ESSAY FROM AUTHOR MICHAEL ESSINGTON, AUTHOR OF 'BROKEN'

EXOSOLAR: A SCI-FI SURVIVAL STORY FROM GARRICK DAVIS

Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy 

Author: Garrick Davis 

Where to read: 

Online (Free Webserial) 

or 

Grab Book 1 on Amazon

Synopsis 

On Day One, Eva was crawling through the ruins of a crashed starship, countless light years away from safety. On Day One Hundred, she was running through the jungles of a hostile planet, the demons of her past biting at her heels. They would not stop until she was dead, and she would not stop until she reached Earth.

The Age of Man has ended. Desolate planets and shattered starships fill the void of space, and the wrathful manhunters have conquered the cosmos.

Humans, who had once ruled the stars, are mere prey to these immortal aliens. They patrol the galaxies in massive ships, mercilessly killing every human they find.

Survivors like Eva must traverse through the shadows of space, for they are constantly being hunted by the enemy. Earth, the only planet the manhunters have been unable to destroy, is their only hope for survival.

Exosolar is a sci-fi Survival story that chronicles the journey of Eva, one of the last humans left alive. With danger lurking on every planet, she must find her way back to Earth, and defeat the demons that seek to destroy her. 

 Special Excerpt from 

Chapter One: Ours is the Fire 

(Visit the links above to read the entire story)      

Eva’s desperation had led her to Eridere Seven, the most treacherous planet in the Vedoran System.

In Eridere’s vast jungles, death could come to her in a variety of ways. If her exosuit malfunctioned, the planet’s toxic gases would kill her in less than a minute. If her plasma pistol lost its charge, the nightmarish beasts lurking in the shadows would soak the leaves with her blood.

Eva knew the risks. She came to the primitive planet expecting to die. Her demise was inevitable. Eridere Seven was the only place in the entire solar system that would grant her a quick death.

For her, being killed by a pack of feral beasts was far more favorable than what the manhunters had in store for her. If they caught her, she’d lose all hope for a swift end. They would torture her until the pain drove her to insanity, then, when she could no longer scream for mercy, they’d feast on her flesh.

Eva shuddered at the thought.

She crept silently through the dense jungle, her pistol held at the ready. Dark, towering trees surrounded her. Leaves as red as blood formed a thick canopy overhead. Wisps of toxic fog weaved through the underbrush. The shrill shrieks of unseen creatures echoed through the dry air.

She kept a watchful eye on the twin suns. They had risen far above the golden clouds, and were setting the sky ablaze with crimson light. She would need to head back at dusk. She had already wandered several miles away from the gulch where her spaceship, the White Lotus, was located. With luck she could reach the ship, depart from the planet, and slip into a wormhole long before Eridere fell dark.

She continued to venture through the jungle. Her slender exosuit, its metal plates colored a bright cobalt, brushed against the thick vegetation. Tall plants rose like spires amongst the trees. Eva avoided them at all costs. They were as poisonous, and deadly, as the toxic air itself.

Multiple warnings flashed across her helmet’s Heads Up Display. They warned her of rising toxicity levels, radiation, and of her suit’s depleting oxygen tanks. She ignored them all.

She was traveling to the heart of the jungle, where the herbivores were gathering. She hoped to spend most of the day hunting. The docile creatures would be easy prey. After she had finished hunting, she would then begin digging for precious minerals. Eridere’s soil was rich in falsidium; a material she could use to fuel both her exosuit and her ship.

After landing on the planet at dawn, Eva had left the White Lotus hidden in a desolate gulch on the outskirts of the jungle. She activated the ship’s reflective stealth panels, rendering it invisible to the naked eye. It was an attempt to hide theLotus from unseen assailants.

At the top of Eva’s HUD was a navpoint; a blue arrow leading to a specific geographical location. She had created it hours earlier. It would help her find her way back to the White Lotus.

She had spent much of the morning wandering through the jungle. The only weapon she possessed was her plasma pistol, though it was decades old and malfunctioning. It had failed to fire several times before, making it both unpredictable and unreliable.

To the west, a tropic storm ravaged the mountains. An endless downpour of acid rain tore the jungle asunder. Plumes of toxic gas spread through the air like a cancer. The storm had raged on for hours, and would not stop until the entire region was as black as death.

Eva kept to the east, where nature was more forgiving. She stalked through the underbrush, searching for easy prey. She had encountered many herbivores over the past few days; lumbering giants that moved like snails. With one clean shot from her pistol, she’d have enough meat to last for a week.

But she needed to be careful. She wasn’t the only predator on the hunt. Winged creatures constantly patrolled the skies. Claw prints left behind by monstrous beasts covered the ground. She knew they were watching her from the shadows, awaiting the perfect moment to strike.

Eva kept her pistol raised. Let them come. She would be ready.

About the Author 

I was born in Lynchburg, Virginia in 1994. I always loved creating stories and developing exciting characters. I moved to Texas in 2015 and began writing Exosolar. I finished the novel in 2017, and the sequel is already in the works. I am a lover of all things Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Superhero -related!

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EXOSOLAR: A SCI-FI SURVIVAL STORY FROM GARRICK DAVIS

THE CULLING TRILOGY: YOUNG ADULT DYSTOPIAN ADVENTURE FROM RAMONA FINN

Title: The Culling 

Author: Ramona Finn 

Genre: YA/Dystopia 

Release: Get it HERE!

Synopsis

In a solar system where The Authority decides who lives and who dies, only one of their own assassins can stop them.

Glade Io is a trained killer. Marked at a young age as an individual with violent tendencies, she was taken from her family and groomed to be a Datapoint, a biotech-enabled analyst who carries out the Culling. She is meant to identify and destroy any potential threats to the human colonies. But when she’s kidnapped by rogue colonists known as the Ferrymen, everything Glade thinks she knows about the colonies, and The Authority that runs them, collapses into doubt.

As the Culling begins, Glade is pulled between two opposing sides, and with her family’s lives hanging in the balance, Glade is unsure of who to trust—and time is quickly running out.

Thanks to the author for sharing a special excerpt from

 The Culling, Book One

here on Writing Belle today! Enjoy! 

I awoke at the bottom of a pit of water. And with about three seconds worth of oxygen left in my lungs.

My long hair tangled in my fingers as my panicked brain searched for a way out. My hands hit nothing, and my eyes were wide and saw only black. I was completely submerged and had no way of knowing which way was up. If there even was an up.

My body rolled in the dark as my lungs screamed. I was going to drown. I was going to drown in the dark and quiet and that was it. The end of Glade Io. Dead and drowned in the dark.

“Breathe.” A voice bit its way through the darkness and I startled, my lungs convulsing in my chest as they begged for air.

“You can breathe,” the voice said again.

I didn’t have a choice but to try. I was going to die either way. I gave up. Breath exploded as I reflexively released out and in, taking a deep, desperate gulp.

I was greedy, lusting for air as I took huge drinks of it. The burn in my lungs subsided and my brain stopped swimming.

I realized three things all at once. One, that I wasn’t in the complete darkness. There was a dim light maybe ten feet away from me. Two, that I wasn’t in water, though it rather felt like it. I was floating without gravity and the air had a strange quality to it, slippery and disorienting. Three, that three people were lining a wall ahead of me, and they were staring at me.

Two of them were Cast and Sullia. On their knees with their hands tied in front of them. The third was a girl, tall, thin, and with no hair on her head. She stared at me with undisguised hatred as she held a gun toward Cast and Sullia.

“Let her down,” the girl said in a surprisingly low voice. Husky.

There was a buzzing, a click, and half a second later, I was tumbling to the floor. The strange air that I’d thought was water had receded and I was subject to gravity once again.

“Get up,” a voice said from behind me.

Still gasping on my knees, I looked behind me to see a boy of about Cast’s age. He was stocky and wide. He had a sturdy look about him that was offset by the pale, fragile blue of his eyes. I eyed his gun as warily as I had the tall girl’s, but the boy didn’t have the same ringing hatred in his expression.

Allowing myself one more gasping second, I sat back on my haunches. It wasn’t more than a moment before I felt cold metal at my wrists and realized I was being shackled in the same way that Cast and Sullia were.

The boy, pressing the gun into the side of my neck, dragged me up by the shackles and over to Cast and Sullia.

“Up,” the tall girl said to all three of us.

We followed them out of the strange, dark room and into a blindingly bright hallway. I hissed against the light and had to wonder how long I’d been out for if my eyes were taking this long to adjust. Still disoriented, my eyes burning, I gasped in surprise when the boy’s hand gripped my shoulder and shoved me sideways into a room not much bigger than a closet. I stumbled, barely getting my footing before the door slammed behind me, cutting out most of the light. Only pinpricks of stars from the tiny window at the top of the room illuminated anything.

I heard two more slams just seconds later and realized these were holding cells for the three of us.

Two sets of footsteps disappeared down the hall and a distant door slammed.

“Glade?” Cast’s voice whispered in the dark from my left.

“Yeah.” My voice sounded like it had been shaved to the bone. There was almost nothing left of it. Just sun-bleached feathers.

“I-I,” his voice sounded years younger than he actually was. I thought involuntarily of my sisters. “I can’t feel my tech. My tech is dead. It doesn't look damaged, but it’s quiet.”

My brow furrowed as I looked down at my own tech. My hands were shackled at the wrist, so I tipped my arms to one side to get a better view. The motherboard in my arm. It was as iridescent as ever, looking for all the world like it was working. I twisted my hands in the shackles so that I could just brush my fingers over it. But I felt no corresponding buzz in the tech on my face. I let my joined hands trace up to my cheek, something I almost never did. I gently slid my palm over the tech that was implanted there. I could feel its cool edges against my skin, but it was ominously quiet: no information, no attempt to sync. Nothing.

I closed my eyes and attempted to sync. Nothing. I huffed out a frustrated breath. Again. Nothing.

I froze, my blood turning to ice as I put the pieces together. For the first time in over two years, there was silence. There was no tug of war. There was no tech. There was only me. Only Glade Io in this skull of mine. I was both dismayed and relieved. Free and terrified. I hadn’t realized how much I’d relied on the tech – the constant whisper of it guiding me, informing me – until it was silent. Just a dead synthetic thing stuck in my skin.

Check out the rest of the trilogy! 

Pre-Order Here!

No release date yet...!

About the Author 

Ramona Finn writes about courageous characters who fight to live in broken, dystopian worlds. She believes a person's true characters is often revealed in times of crisis, and there is no greater crisis than the worlds that she drops her characters into! 

She grew up sitting cross-legged on her town's library floor--completely engrossed in science fiction books. It was always the futuristic world or the universe-on-the-brink-of-extinction plotlines that drew her in, but it was the brave characters who chose to fight back that kept her turning the pages. 

Her books create deep, intricate worlds with bold characters determined to fight for their survival in their dystopian worlds--with a little help from their friends. And, of course, romance is never out of the question. To learn more about Ramona and her books, visit http://ramonafinn.com. Also visit her on Facebook.

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THE CULLING TRILOGY: YOUNG ADULT DYSTOPIAN ADVENTURE FROM RAMONA FINN

Happy New Year! Introducing Writing Belle's 2018 Lineup!

Hello, 2018! It seems surreal to me that only a few moments ago (it HAD to be, right?), I was welcoming 2017 with open arms. Time flashes by, folks, especially when you're busy! 2017 was a fun and crazy year. I finished the Collapse Series and my company, Writing Belle Publishing, became a national distributor of print titles (woot!). I also got to do a little traveling last year, visiting fun places like Disneyland, the California desert, and Maui, Hawaii. 

I LOVE to read, and while I didn't get to read quite as much as I wanted to in 2017 due to impending deadlines and crazy schedules (and the fact that my husband and I moved again during the summer!), I did read some fun new books that opened my imagination and entertained me on many sleepy Sunday afternoons. 

2017, in retrospect, was also a year of profound growth for me. A year of learning and adapting and opening myself to new horizons, friendships, and opportunities. A year of developing my writing even further (hitting my 19th publication, and releasing my first-ever historical romance), and a year of excitedly readying myself for the new literary adventures that lie before me. 

2018 promises to be an even crazier, even busier year for me (I say that every year, but it's true!). If you're a follower of Writing Belle, Cassidy Hart/Collapse Series, and my author program here, below is the 2018 lineup of the major events happening over the next 6 months! 

January 2018 

Resurrection: Shadows of Omega 

The launch of the sequel series to the Collapse Universe will herald the return of popular heroine Cassidy Hart in a new role: President of the Western Republic. 

Promotion Program Launches 

I have turned Writing Belle into a stage for all creative talent. This year, the 2018 author promotion program extends to all artists: writers, singers, songwriters, editors, agents, filmmakers, and illustrators. Every Monday, until the end of the year (excluding holidays), I will feature one new author/rising talent. If interested in joining the program, visit the author program tab on this website (I am still booking into Fall 2018).

February 2018 

Novel Writing Masterclass

I am beginning my first-ever writing masterclass on February 6th, 2018. The class is 100% online, universally accessible, and incredibly affordable. The class is appropriate for writers of all ages, aspiring and veteran. Visit the masterclass tab on this blog to learn more. 

June 2018 

Next Resurrection Title Releases 

I will be releasing the second installment in the new series this summer. I have been receiving a lot of questions regarding Cassidy's new adventure. How many books will there be? My answer: at least 6. That's all I can tell you for now. 

I will not be releasing my schedule to the public past June 2018 at this time. Writing Belle will be constantly featuring new talent every week throughout this year. Keep in mind that I will also be teaching my online masterclass, and I will keep you all updated about that here, as well as on instagram (@writingbelle), Facebook (Summer Lane Author) and Twitter (SummerEllenLane). 

In the meantime...happy reading and writing. I will be back next week with our first promotion article of the year, featuring author Ramona Finn! 

Happy New Year! 

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Happy New Year! Introducing Writing Belle's 2018 Lineup!