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| Continuing my attempt at diversifying my reading... In 2016, I read 35 books for pleasure which is 5 more than in 2015, so go me. Still not achieving my goal of 52 books a year for pleasure but as I'm fairly certain I read my own Valor series half a dozen times – fyi, start the wiki when you start the series, trust me on this – it's not like I wasn't reading. One book was a reread. DATA: 3 were non-fiction: all 3 were memoirs – that's half as many non-fiction as 2015 32 were fiction: 7 science fiction, 21 fantasy, 4 mysteries (2 science fiction & 4 fantasy were marketed as YAs) 8.47% non-fiction vs 91.43 % fiction 2015: 20% non-fiction vs 80% fiction
Once again, I read multiple books by the same author and once again I'm identifying the writer of each book independently.
22 were written by people identifying as women 13 were written by people identifying as men 62.8% women vs 37.14% men 2015: 73% women vs 27% men According to author photo and/or Google and/or personal knowledge, 4 of the women are POC, 0 of the men 11.4% POC vs 88.6 % white 2015: 16% POC vs 84% white 4 were written by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as British 5 by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as Canadian 26 by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as American 2015: 10 UK, 7 Cdn, 14 USA, 1 Australian
I'm guessing that publishers or Google use the passport the author in question carries, but it's equally possible they used 2D20 and faked it. Except for the Canadians, I know that's accurate because I know them. Lots of geography here, not many people.
Conclusion: Well, 2016 sucked as far as diversifying my reading went. More books, less diversity. Although there are six books by WOC in my TBR pile, it wouldn't hurt to pick up a book by a male POC or two in 2017. And a few more Canadians. And maybe a book in translation – the last translation I read was about five years ago. It was Russian. I'd forgotten it's country of origin and four pages from the end thought, "Oh good, a happy ending." Not so much as it turned out... “Books are mirrors: you only see in them what you already have inside you.”
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón “Books are no more threatened by Kindle than stairs by elevators.” ― Stephen Fry | |
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| So you loved the Quarters series and you were wishing there was more in that mythos. You're in luck. We've collected two Vree and Bannon short stories and a previously very limited access novellette, given them a snazzy cover by Tigerbright studios and popped them out onto the internet for your reading pleasure. Go us!  The Seven Armies’ deadliest blades are at their best inThree Quarters, a collection of three exciting shorts set in Tanya Huff’s Quarters universe. In “Death Rites” sibling assassins Bannon and Vree must eliminate a dangerous traitor who’s already thwarted several other professionals. In “Exactly,” Vree and Bannon slip surveillance shifts in between body rubs and drinks when they take a holiday, assassin-style. And in the novelette, “Quartered,” on Kovar’s orders, the young bard Evicka risks her life to spy on Vree and Gyhard in Bicaz. Featuring an all-new foreword and new story introductions from the author, Three Quarters is sure to delight fans of The Quarters Series with Tanya Huff’s pitch-perfect harmony of adventure, intrigue, and wit.I didn't write the copy this time, btw. Although "pitch-perfect harmony of adventure, intrigue, and wit." does give me a happy. Well, why wouldn't it? links: Chapters.Indigo (which is KOBO) Amazon.caAmazon.comamazon.co.ukiBookGoogle playI can't find a B&N link. Could be me. Could be B&N. If anyone finds other links, mention them in the comments and I'll add them here. | |
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| Remember the whole "only read books by specific peoples" thing going around this time last year? Well, while I felt that "only read" was a tad restrictive, I did agree that it certainly wouldn't hurt to broaden my reading outside my defaults. I just wasn't sure what my defaults were so I decided to keep track of who wrote what I read for pleasure in 2015 – excluding their sexual orientation or gender identity because unless they're public about it, it's none of my business. I read 30 books for pleasure. No rereads this year, which is a little strange for me. DATA: 6 were non-fiction: 4 memoirs, 1 biography, 1 history/travel 24 were fiction: 10 fantasy, 8 science fiction, 4 mystery, 2 mainstream 20% non-fiction / 80% fiction * Two were co-written so 30 books, 32 authors. And although in two instances, I read multiple books by the same author, I'm identifying the writer of each book independently. 22 were written by people identifying as women 10 were written by people identifying as men 68% female / 32% male * according to author photo and/or Google and/or personal knowledge, 5 of the women are POC, 0 of the men 16% POC / 84% white * 10 were written by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as British 7 by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as Canadian 14 by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as American and 1 Australian (I'm guessing that publishers or Google are going by which passport the author in question carries but it's equally possible they used 2D20 and faked it.)(Except for the Canadians, that's accurate because I know all of them.)(Lots of geography here, not many people.) * Conclusion: If I'm wondering what to read next, it wouldn't hurt to pick up a book by a person of colour who doesn't live in the – for lack of a clearer designation – first world. I might also want to shift more a few books into the Canadian column. And it's possible I could read one or two more male authors. Only 30 books though? That's pathetic. I definitely need to do more reading for the joy of reading. * It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it. ~Oscar Wilde | |
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| Remember the whole "only read books by specific peoples" thing going around this time last year? Well, while I felt that "only read" was a tad restrictive, I did agree that it certainly wouldn't hurt to broaden my reading outside my defaults. I just wasn't sure what my defaults were so I decided to keep track of who wrote what I read for pleasure in 2015 – excluding their sexual orientation or gender identity because unless they're public about it, it's none of my business. I read 30 books for pleasure. No rereads this year, which is a little strange for me. DATA: 6 were non-fiction: 4 memoirs, 1 biography, 1 history/travel 24 were fiction: 10 fantasy, 8 science fiction, 4 mystery, 2 mainstream 20% non-fiction / 80% fiction Two were co-written so 30 books, 32 authors. And although in two instances, I read multiple books by the same author, I'm identifying the writer of each book independently. 22 were written by people identifying as women 10 were written by people identifying as men 68% female / 32% male according to author photo and/or Google and/or personal knowledge, 5 of the women are POC, 0 of the men 16% POC / 84% white 10 were written by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as British 7 by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as Canadian 14 by authors identified either by jacket copy or Google as American and 1 Australian (I'm guessing that publishers or Google are going by which passport the author in question carries but it's equally possible they used 2D20 and faked it.)(Except for the Canadians, that's accurate because I know all of them.)(Lots of geography here, not many people.) Conclusion: If I'm wondering what to read next, it wouldn't hurt to pick up a book by a person of colour who doesn't live in the – for lack of a clearer designation – first world. I might also want to shift more a few books into the Canadian column. And it's possible I could read one or two more male authors. Only 30 books though? That's pathetic. I definitely need to do more reading for the joy of reading. It is what you read when you don't have to that determines what you will be when you can't help it. ~Oscar Wilde | |
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| I read a blog today about THE FIRE'S STONE in which the blogger was reading Chandra as asexual but wished I'd been more explict about it.
This isn't a reply to that blog. It's more of an extrapolation.
While Kinsey created a categorey "X" for individuals with "no socio-sexual contacts or reaction" in 1953 it never achieved the kind of public awareness of "the Kinsey scale" -- which most of us play with but almost none of us have read the actual document unless required to by various institutes of higher learning. Mostly because the interesting bits have been paraphrased so many times. Further studies in psychiatric journals over the 1970s and 1980s didn't filter down to my part of the world.
The World Wide Web opened to the public on August 6th, 1991. As far as I can tell, and my google fu could be failing me, the first asexual organization Asexual Visibility and Education Network (AVEN) was founded in 2001 but casual visibilty didn't happen until social networking allowed for safety in numbers. There may have been asexual USENET groups, back in the day, but they weren't public forums.
Social media created a very public forum.
How long have I known about asexuality as it's defined by those who claim the identity? Five years? Maybe?
THE FIRE'S STONE came out in 1990.
If I were writing Chandra now, I'd handle her differently but in 1989 when I wrote THE FIRE'S STONE, I didn't have the words. | |
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| Back on August 4th of 2015, SING THE FOUR QUARTERS came out as an ebook for the first time ever. Yay!  On September 1st, FIFTH QUARTER, the second book in the series came out as an ebook for the first time ever! Again, yay!  And I wrote about them, with excepts and order links and everything here and here. Then, on October 6th, NO QUARTER, the third book in the series came out as an ebook for the very first time ever. But... the hardcover of AN ANCIENT PEACE also dropped that day and as it was a new book and NO QUARTER was a reprint, albeit in its original digital form, I concentrated on AN ANCIENT PEACE. But today, November 3rd, THE QUARTERED SEA, the fourth and final book in the series comes out as (all together now) an ebook for the very first time ever. And although THE FUTURE FALLS is also out as a paperback today, since I'm two quarters behind and with half as much time as I need, I'm going to wrap up my bards, and my boats, and my imperial assassins. First an except of No, 
“Pirates.”
The word was close enough to Imperial that she understood the meaning before Gyhard finished his translation. Shading her eyes with her hands, she peered back along the side of the ship. Just moving into the current behind them was a sleek, two-masted, narrow-hulled vessel. “The Raven.”
It sounded like a curse. Two sailors spat over the side, giving water to the sea for luck, and a third traced the sign of the Circle on her breast, muttering, “Probably bin followin’ us since the outer islands.” When the lookout confirmed the identification a moment later, the crew of the Gilded Fancy raced to defensive positions. Vree put herself in the path of a running sailor and he skidded to a stop. The third night out, she’d barely managed to keep from killing their best knife fighter when he’d challenged her right to the long dagger she wore. After her easy victory, the crew treated her with the same wary respect she’d received from those around her most of her life. While they might not know what she was—had been—they’d been made very aware of what she could do. “Can we …” She hated having to search for words but her Shkoden was up to little more than the most basic of conversations. *Gyhard, how do you say, outrun her?* When he told her and she repeated it, the sailor shook his head, scalp locks whipping his ears. “No stinking way. They’re in the same stinking current, ahead of the same stinking wind, and they’re built for speed which we sure as fish shit aren’t.” “What will …” He didn’t wait for her to finish. “Happen? They’ll board us. Anyone who survives the fight’ll go over the side. Less, of course, they’ve got some stinking skill Edite i’Oceania …” *i’Oceania?* *She’s claiming the sea as her mother,* Gyhard explained. *It’s probably not true.* *Probably?* “… thinks she needs—healers, or sail makers, or stinking carpenters. You, don’t know what she’ll do about you, but the hucksters, his stinking Lordship, and his stinking Lordship’s servant, she’ll hold for ransom.” The hucksters were a pair of Imperial merchants and His Lordship was a Shkoden noble, who was involved in some way with the ambassador at the Imperial court. Vree knew nothing more about any of them, nor did she really care. As the sailor ran off to join others performing complicated and inexplicable maneuvers with a rope—the decks looked like an anthill stirred with a stick—she took another look at the Raven. Even in that short time, it had pulled closer—close enough to see that allexposed timber had been painted a deep matte black. *That’s conceit,* Gyhard growled. *All that black paint must’ve cost her a fortune. No wonder she turned pirate.* Conceit. Vree frowned. She felt Gyhard stir uneasily within the boundaries of her mind. *What are you thinking?* he demanded. *Vree …* *I’m thinking that there may be an alternative to going over the side with a pirate’s ax splitting my skull.* *What alternative?* She turned from the rail. *The usual one.* Ignoring the chaos growing around her, she made her way past frantic men and women fighting to get the last bit of speed out of the Fancy to the arms locker where the armsmaster was methodically setting out bundles of barbed arrows. As he’d spent some years in the Empire and spoke fluent Imperial, they’d not have to waste any of their rapidly decreasing time on translations. “Tell me,” she demanded without preamble, “about Edite i’Oceania.” “Good at what she does,” he grunted, not bothering to look up. “Almost as good as she thinks she is. Shkoden navy controls most of the sea-lanes through the Broken Islands, but they can’t catch her. And the Circle knows they’ve tried. From what I’ve heard, her crew adores her. They should. She’s made them rich. They’d die for her.” He pulled oilskin-wrapped packets of bowstrings out of the locker. “And some of them are going to.”
“What about her? Would she die for them?” The armsmaster laughed, but the sound held little humor. “Her type thinks they’re immortal.” “How would she respond to a knife at her throat?” The tone of Vree’s voice lifted the armsmaster out of his crouch and turned him toward her. “Would thispirate call off an attack in exchange for her life? Would her crew listen if she did?” “Aye, the crew would likely listen,” he said slowly, studying her face, a slow realization dawning. “But i’Oceania wouldn’t give that order. If she’s taken alive, she’ll die ashore and she knows it. You kill her, though, and her crew becomes the stinking rabble it was before she forced order on it. Captain Edite’s the only thing holding that murdering bunch of cutthroats together. If she dies, they’d fall apart. If they fall apart …” His eyes still on her face, he closed his fist around the hilt of hisshort sword. “I can beat them.” Vree nodded and spun about on one bare heel. “Assassin.” She paused. “Do it quickly or there’ll be no point in doing it at all.” Then Sea,  The fishing boat rose to the surface of the bay like an abandoned vessel of the old gods. Such was the angle that the masthead, draped in pennants of torn and dripping sail, had barely emerged before the bow broke through, water sheeting over the gunnels back into the sea. A moment later the stern followed, cradled on the crest of an unnatural wave. Long ropes of weed trailed off the rudder as though the depths had attempted to hold their prize. Ignoring waves and wind, the boat cut across the chop toward a nearly identical vessel carrying four oilskin-wrapped people. Three of the four watched the approach, openmouthed. The fourth, a young man standing alone in the bow, watched the water and Sang. A few moments later, the salvaged boat drew parallel with the other and stopped, both boats keeping their position as though held by unseen hands. “That’s her, that’s my Second Chance.” Leaning over the gunnels for a closer look, one of the identical trio pushed her hood back off salt-and-pepper hair and squinted into the spray. “Well, I’ll be hooked and fried, they even brung up both pairs of oars.” Half-turned toward the bow, she lifted her voice over the combined noise of wind and sea and Song, “Hey bard! We’re close enough to use the gaff. Should I hook her in and make her fast?” Still Singing, Benedikt shook his head and shuffled around on his damp triangle of decking to face the shore. Shoulders hunched against the chill, he changed his Song, and both boats began to move toward the gravel beach at the head of the bay where the tiny figures of the villagers paced up and down. When the keels scraped bottom, he changed the Song again. Two roughly human translucent figures rose up out of the shallows on either side of the bow and brushed against the ends of Benedikt’s outstretched fingers like liquid cats. Closing his eyes, he allowed the four notes of the gratitude to linger a moment or two after the kigh dissolved back into the sea. “Right, then!” The owner of the Second Chance took command of the silence with an authoritative bellow. “Let’s have some help here before the tide turns!” His part in the salvage completed, the bard stayed where he was until it became obvious that there was nothing left to do but disembark. Clambering awkwardly over the side, he winced as the frigid water seeped into borrowed boots. The uneven footing threw him off balance. He staggered forward, then back, then forward again. A sudden grip on his elbow kept him from falling. The figure beside him, indistinguishable from all the others in the ubiquitous oilskins, was considerably shorter than his own six feet. Under his hood, he felt his ears burn. Bards were not supposed to need rescue. Especially not from rescuers so much smaller than themselves.
SING THE FOUR QUARTERS FIFTH QUARTER NO QUARTER THE QUARTERED SEA | |
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| So, for those of you who listen to audio books -- and I know there's a rising number of you out there -- the Audible Edition of the new Torin Kerr book, An Ancient Peace, is available for pre-Order here: An Ancient Peace, Audible Edition The narrator is Marguerite Gavin "a seasoned theater veteran, a three-time nominee for the prestigious Audie Award, and the winner of numerous Earphones and Publishers Weekly Awards. Marguerite has been an actor, director, and audiobook narrator for her entire professional career. Her narration spans nearly every genre, from mystery, science fiction and fantasy, romance, and children's fiction to nonfiction and documentaries. AudioFile magazine says, 'Marguerite Gavin . . . has a sonorous voice, rich and full of emotion.'" But, more importantly for fans of the Confderation books, Marguerite voiced the five previous Torin Kerr novels and did an amazing job.
Note: for those of you just joining us, welcome. The five novels in the Confederation series are Valor's Choice, The Better Part of Valor, Heart of Valor, Valor's Trial, and Truth of Valor. (unless you're looking for the Titan UK edtions in which case I got the u's back and it's Valour's Choice, The Better Part of Valour, Heart of Valour, Valour's Trial, and Truth of Valour)(for the very new among us, I'm Canadian and we're taught UK spelling -- except when we aren't)(yes, it confuses us too)(where was I? Right...) The Confederation series is military SF with individual plots and an continuous character arc. You can read them in any order but they work better if you read them in the order they were written. The whole series is available in paper and ebook and a trade omnibus of Choice and Better Part was released recently. The Peacekeeper series begins after the end of Truth of Valor (or Valour), beginning with An Ancient Peace (Oct 2015) and it's no longer military sf but I can't tell you why because that would give away the endings of Trial and Truth so you'll have to take my word for it. Have I ever lead you wrong before? It can be read without having read the Confederation series but it'll read better, richer, with it. (see previous comment about never having lead you wrong before) | |
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| So, Fifth Quarter, the second book in the Quarters quadrilogy, came out in ebook two days ago, on Tuesday, September 1st, and I forgot to mention it. Oops. Okay, yes, I retweeted a mention by my agent but that's not actually the same thing. Now, you don't get much more of a throwback than the ebook of a book that came out in mass market twenty odd years ago (and some of those years were very odd) so I thought I'd use today's thematic meme-ness to give new readers a small taste of both Sing the Four Quarters (book one, came out last month) and Fifth Quarter. First, Sing: “All right, Bard. This is where you float yer weight.” Sarlo hooked the sweep oar into one armpit and gestured ahead with her free hand. “Got a whole stretch of river here where the current spreads out and ain’t worth shit. Not to mention wind’s comin’ northwest and’ll keep tryin’ to blow us onto the far shore. We get through it slow and sure as a rule, but since I don’t want to end up with my butt caught in ice, it’s all yers.” Fingers clamped not quite white around the oar support, Annice peered off the stern. The fantail following the riverboat was a deep gray-green; not exactly friendly-looking water. Watching the bubbles slipping away upstream induced a sudden wave of vertigo. Annice swallowed hard and sat down, legs crossed for maximum support and eyes closed. Thanks to the innkeeper’s well-timed hunk of bread, she’d discovered that small, bland meals at frequent intervals both remained down and damped the nausea to merely an unpleasant background sensation. Unfortunately, during the two days on the river, she’d found all sort of new ways to make herself sick. “You okay?” Annice opened her eyes and decided she could cope. “I’m fine.” “You seen a healer yet?” “I’ll see one after I get to Elbasan.” Sarlo snorted. “Yer business.” Reaching under her jacket and sweater, Annice pulled out her flute, the ironwood warmed almost to body temperature. When the kigh arrived she’d Sing, but first she had to get their attention. “They’re gonna be deep with freeze-up so close,” Sarlo observed. Annice ignored her, setting her fingers and checking the movement of the single key. She took a deep breath and slowly released it, then lifted the flute to her mouth. The kigh took their time responding to the call, but eventually three distinct shapes became visible just below the surface. Three would have to be enough. Shoving chilled fingers and flute between her legs, Annice Sang. Some bards argued that as long as the music was right and the desire strong, words were unimportant; that the kigh didn’t understand the words anyway, so why tie rhyme and rhythm into knots in what was probably an unnecessary attempt to Sing a specific request. Personally, Annice preferred to repeat variations of short phrases over and over. It occasionally got tedious, but it usually got results. The kigh listened for a few moments, one lifting a swell two feet into the air the better to stare intently at the source of the Song, then suddenly all three dove and the boat jerked forward. “Whoa!” Sarlo took a steadying step and braced herself against the sweep as Annice let the Song fade to silence. “This’ll make us some time. How long do you figger they’ll push for?” Annice slumped forward. “Hard to say,” she admitted. “I haven’t actually asked for much, so we might make it out of the slow stretch before they get bored.” “Then what?” “Then I’ll play them a gratitude and we’re back on our own.” “They won’t hang around and cause trouble?” “Probably not.…” A sudden gust of wind lifted the top off a wave and flung it up over the high stern deck of the riverboat and into Annice’s face. The air kigh flicked the last few drops off its fingers at her, then sped away. “More kigh?” Sarlo asked. “More kigh,” Annice sighed and pulled the sleeve of her sweater down to wipe at the freezing water. “I’ve always been strongest in air, so they get jealous when I Sing the others.” “Sort of like being followed around by a bunch of obnoxious kids.” “Worse.” The pilot snorted. “You were never stuck on a riverboat with my right-out-ofthe- Circle three.” “Why didn’t you leave them with their father?” “Couldn’t. He was my crew till he got knocked off and drowned.” “I’m sorry.” “Why? You weren’t the one what pushed him in.” Annice didn’t care how unbardlike it was; she wasn’t going to ask, she didn’t want to know. And just in case you don't want to take my word for it:“A favorite book means to me one you reread frequently and know you will enjoy even with flu. Out of a shelf-full of such, the one my hand goes to most unerringly is Tanya Huff’s SING THE FOUR QUARTERS. I love this book for being both very funny and wholly serious about the elemental spirits and about justice, mercy, love, kindness and honor. Above all, I love it for its accurate portrayal of exactly how it feels to be pregnant. I don’t think this has been done in fantasy before.” —Diana Wynne Jones for The Washing Post Book World Second, Fifth: “Well, Neegan …” The marshal leaned back in the folding camp chair and set the empty flagon on the table with a sharp crack. “… second watch is nearly over and still no sign of them.” “Too early to relax, Marshal.” Commander Neegan’s whisper had been given him many years before by an enemy archer. The commander had not only survived the battle but seen to it that the archer did not. Marshal Chela smiled, the expression bracketing the rounded curves of her face with deep creases. “I never relax,” she said cheerfully. “It’s why I’ve lived to a ripe old age.” She reached for the flagon, remembered it was empty, and sighed. “There’s another bottle in that case behind you, Neegan. Get it, would you?” “Allow me, Marshal.” In one lithe motion, Bannon rose to his feet, set the clay bottle on the table, and lightly touched his blade to the commander’s neck, just by the white pucker of the old scar. Chela leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you removing the wrong target?” she murmured. Vree tapped the older woman gently on the shoulder and laid a line of steel across her throat. “Don’t move,” she warned. “It’s very sharp.” Apparently oblivious to the knife tip dimpling his skin, Neegan held out his hand. “You owe me forty crescents, Marshal. I told you they could do it.” And in case you still don't want to take my word for it: “This isn’t fluff, and it isn’t light—but it has so much heart to leaven its dark moments that is a someplace-that-isn’t here in which to find belief in redemption.” —The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction No Quarter is out in October (and yes, that's the same month as An Ancient Peace, and yes, I am competing against myself... I think I can take me) and The Quartered Sea is out in November. If you're very good and I get my act together, there may be a small quarter of something around in December too. This link not only takes you back to the many links that will take you to places where you can get the books but to a post that's a month old and therefore also a throwback and it's still Thursday (even though lj ate this post once already) and I'm so rocking this theme thing. | |
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| Back in 1993, I wrote a book called Sing the Four Quarters. Well, okay, fine, I actually wrote a book called The Pregnant Bard Book because I'm terrible at titles and at about the three quarter mark of any book, Sheila Gilbert, my editor at DAW, and I sit down and throw ideas around for a title until something good sticks, but the point I'm trying to make is that the book I wrote in 1993 came out in 1994 as Sing the Four Quarters. It's a heroic, created world fantasy about bards and conspiracies and consequences and it had a beautiful Jody Lee cover and I was very proud of it. In 1995 Fifth Quarter came out. The same mythos but not a direct sequel. I moved south into the Empire and told the story of Vree and Bannon, Imperial Army Assassins. (or as I said to Jody when she called to talk about the cover, "Think of them as Imperial Roman Ninjas.") In book two, we're talking bards and betrayal and the walking dead. In 1996 Vree and Bannon went north and intersected with the first book in No Quarter and in 1999, I sent one of my bards across the sea to discover a new world in The Quartered Sea -- which I felt I had to write not only because I had a really great idea and wanted to play around with an intersection of religon and politics but also because I'd come up with the title and, given how terrible I am at titles, didn't want to waste it. Now, one of the reasons I mentioned the publication dates of all four books is so you can understand that they were pre-ebooks and so there was nothing about ebooks in the contracts. Ammending contracts for older books not only takes a long time because the wheels of contract law run slowly (the vague quote I'm making here would insist on saying "runs slow" but while I'm usually all for breaking the laws of grammer, I just can't do it) but also because new books are prioritized. Unfortunately, there's only 24 hours in a day. So, year after year, I'd be asked, "Are the Quarters books available in ebook yet?" And I'd have to say, "No, not yet." Well, I can stop saying that now. As of today, August 4th, you can download (legally, so that my cats don't starve) Sing the Four Quarters. In September, Fifth Quarter. In October, No Quarter. And finally in November, The Quartered Sea. (pre-ordering is available for the later three)(if I'd been more on top of this, you could've pre ordered Sing the Four Quarters too... some of you did anyway. Thank you!)  " The Bards of Shkoder hold the country together. They, and the elemental spirits they Sing – earth, air, fire, and water -- bring the news of the sea to the mountains, news of the mountains to the plains. They give their people, from peasant to king, a song in common.Annice is a rare talent, able to Sing all four quarters, but her brother, the newly enthroned King Theron, sees her request to study at the Bardic Hall as a betrayal. To his surprise, Annice accepts his conditions, renouncing her royal blood and swearing to remain childless so as not to jeopardize the line of succession. She walks away from political responsibilities, royal privilege and her family. Ten years later, Annice has become the Princess Bard and her real life is about to become the exact opposite of the overwrought ballad her fellow students at the Bardic Hall wrote about her. Now, she's on the run from the Royal Guards with the Duc of Ohrid, the father of her unborn child, both of them guilty of treason – one of them unjustly accused. To save the Duc's life, they'll have to cross the country, manage to keep from strangling each other, and defeat an enemy too damaged for even a Bard's song to reach."
 "Trained to kill from childhood, siblings Bannon and Vree have only known life as assassins in the Imperial Army. The army is both their mother and father, their lives subject to the whims of the Crown. When their latest target steals Bannon's body for his own, Vree saves her brother by dragging his spirit in to share hers. But two assassins in one body is one assassin too many. To save both their lives, they must abandon the only life they’ve known, risking Imperial ire and possible execution, to regain Bannon’s body. It isn't until after they capture Gyhard, the body thief, that they realize they can't force him to do anything while he holds Bannon's body hostage. But Gyhard is willing to trade Bannon's body for their assistance. All they have to do – while being hunted for desertion and dealing with an unknown power able to Sing the dead out of the grave – is betray the oaths they've lived by and help Gyhard secure the body of an Imperial Prince." -------------------------------------------------------
Okay, that's books one and two... but as I think the cover copy of book three gives away the ending of book two, I'm going to wait for October to post about No Quarter and Fifth Quarter. Or you could preorder using the links provided and find out for yourself but that's on you, not me. You're adults. Your choice.
Links!
SING THE FOUR QUARTERS FIFTH QUARTER NO QUARTER THE QUARTERED SEA | |
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| Yesterday, I did an interview with Jeannie Musick and today, it's up. On the net. Ready to be read.
I'll let Jeannie discuss the links:
"The interview is up!Here are the two links.· The first is to Tanya’s introductory page. It has a link to the interview itself: http://www.jeanniemusick.com/interviews/tanya-huff/· The second is a link directly to the interview, which is title “Not in My City”: http://www.jeanniemusick.com/interviews/tanya-huff/not-in-my-city/The interview jumps over her lovely picture, her bio, the list of her books, etc. But some people like to get to the meat, so whichever you like to use. The title of the interview pays homage to Tanya’s fascinating uniqueness of her vampire’s inability for “apex predators” to be together.I loved interviewing Tanya and hope I didn’t wear her out. J I tend to be very curious.My website has automatic translation into hundreds of languages. (I get regular hits from around the world) so your fans through Europe can actually read the interview in their own languages. Feel free to spread word about the interview to them. (I have found out that Korea, Japan, Italy, France, Germany, China, oh everywhere, are interested in vampires.)" | |
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