Showing posts with label Starchild series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Starchild series. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Earthchild: Excerpt



Earthchild is a follow-up to Starchild. It also appeared first at Dreams Unlimited, then went to Samhain. (I think LTD went out of business before I managed to arrange a reprint there.) Anyway. This one makes my mom cry.

Taken in as an infant and raised by the primitive, non-human natives of the colony planet Denahault, Noisy Girl has always known she was different. Human settlers initiating peaceful contact confirm it—her true home is a planet called Earth, millions of miles away among the stars.

Her search for her heritage leads her to the home of Harrison Fairfax and Trieka Cavendish, and their guest Jeff Anderson, Trieka’s former second-in-command.

For Jeff, Trieka’s offer to captain the legendary ship Starchild is a lifelong dream fulfilled. Then he meets Noisy Girl, an entrancing young woman who speaks only in sign language. She captures his imagination like no other woman ever has, and his efforts to teach her English deepens a relationship he never thought was possible for him.

But the claustrophobic, technology-laden atmosphere of Earth traumatizes the gentle Noisy Girl, and suddenly Jeff’s choices aren’t quite so clear.

If he accepts permanent command of Starchild, all hope of happiness with this beguiling woman will be destroyed. Unless a compromise can be found…

From Chapter One:

The Loud-Talking People had cut down trees and made houses from them. To Noisy Girl, who’d lived her whole life in the shelter of a natural cave, this seemed both bizarre and fascinating.
 
But even more bizarre and fascinating were the Loud-Talking People themselves. The noise seemed incessant, as they opened their mouths and made peculiar rhythmic sounds. Noisy Girl thought they looked strange as well, until she remembered they looked just like her. They had smooth, almost hairless skin, ranging in color from pinkish, like her own, to a black-brown nearly as dark as the skin of the White Fur People. Over it they wore garments amazingly constructed of woven cloth finer than anything she had ever seen. They were strange and beautiful and very, very noisy. They were her people, and they frightened her.

With her mother, she watched the village from a nearby ridge. They were close enough to see details of the houses and the people, close enough to hear the odd sounds that came from the Loud-Talkers’ mouths, but hidden by the forest growth that dominated the overhanging ridge. It would have been a good site from which to attack the little settlement, had they been so inclined. Noisy Girl shook her head as the thought passed through her mind, negating it. It wasn’t the kind of thing that usually occurred to her.

“They sound like tree-climbers,” Noisy Girl signed to her mother, thinking of the furry creatures who hung by their tails from the tree branches, chattering incessantly to each other. 

“They have fine houses,” Walks Crooked replied. She pointed. “Look. Children.”

One of the women below squatted as a small boy ran to her. A horrible noise came from his small mouth, an unarticulated sound of distress. The woman gathered him into her arms and brushed her mouth against his head, crooning against his sun-colored hair.

Something too vague to be a memory stirred in Noisy Girl’s heart. She pressed her fingers against her lips as the boy’s howling faded. Within a few moments, he laughed and ran away.

“They can be kind,” she said.

Her mother smiled. “They can be unkind, as well. But I think they will not be so to you.”

Noisy Girl frowned. “Will you come with me?”

“I will.”

The woman who caught sight of them as they slid down the ridge knew only a few words of the White Fur People’s language, but she tried. She smiled, made a great deal of noise, touched Noisy Girl as if she couldn’t believe Noisy Girl was real.

“No talk well,” she’d said, obviously uncomfortable with the hand gestures. “She talk well. Find her. You wait.”

“She wants us to wait,” Walks Crooked said, then her mouth twitched into a smile. “At least, I think that’s what she said.”

Noisy Girl recognized the nervousness behind Walks Crooked’s smile. She herself swallowed to calm the jumpy nausea caused by her own nerves.

“I don’t want to go,” she said suddenly, a desperate sound straining at the back of her throat. The Loud-Talking woman turned and looked at her, concern on her face. What did that sound mean to these people who used sounds as a matter of course?

“These are your people,” Walks Crooked said.

“You are my people.”

Walks Crooked cupped Noisy Girl’s face in a white-furred hand. “Learn about them. You can always change your mind later, if things don’t go well.”

Noisy Girl nodded, blinking back tears. She couldn’t help the sounds in the back of her throat. Until this moment, she hadn’t been certain the White Fur People would want her back. She’d been loved and cared for among them, but she couldn’t help the doubt—the fear that they’d jumped on the chance to introduce her to her own people so her strangeness would no longer disturb their world. She’d lived with that fear all her life.

“Thank you,” Noisy Girl said.

Several hours later, with the sun now past its zenith, they still waited.

Noisy Girl couldn’t fault the Loud-Talkers’ hospitality, though. They’d provided comfortable places to sit, on wooden constructs unlike anything Noisy Girl had ever seen, in a small room of one of the remarkable wooden houses. The woman brought them warm sweet drinks and hot bread with fruit spread. She sat with them and they all tried very hard to converse. The visitors didn’t get much beyond asking for more drinks and indicating appreciation of the food, but it gave Noisy Girl hope. If she could feel some measure of acceptance already, maybe she could find a place among these people that she’d never quite been able to make among the White Fur People. But everything here was so different. The sounds they made fascinated her. Could she learn to do that?

All her life, she’d been defined by the sounds she could make. In this world, those sounds would become commonplace. That realization suddenly clarified the enormity of the changes she faced.
A shift in the voices in the next room told her something had changed. Their companion, the woman who’d met them on the ridge, quickly left the room, following the sounds.

Noisy Girl sat straighter. Next to her, Walks Crooked laid a hand on her knee. She laid her hand on top of her mother’s and clutched at it, grasping at any link to familiarity. Her other hand fingered the string of amber beads she always wore. The texture of the smoothly polished stones had always calmed her. They helped now, but at the same time felt alien and strange. What would these people think of her?

From the other room came two more people, a man and a woman, accompanied by the woman who’d kept them company over the past few hours. The man was tall and slim, the hair on his head a dark brown touched with red. The woman was small, her hair a shocking orange.

The woman smiled, and her hands danced.

“Hello. My name is Fire Hair, and this is my mate, called Long Nose by the People Who Live at the Edge of the Mountain. We were asked to come here to talk to you.”

Noisy Girl glanced at her mother, shocked by the small woman’s identity. The stories of Fire Hair and Long Nose, who’d made possible the present interaction between the Loud-Talking People and the White Fur People, had traveled even to Noisy Girl’s isolated village. Those stories, in fact, were why she had come here.

Walks Crooked lifted her hands. “I am Walks Crooked, from the People by the Shores of the West Sea. This is my daughter, Noisy Girl. She came to our tribe as a very small child. When we heard of you and the peace that had begun between your people and ours, we knew we should come here so Noisy Girl might learn of her true people.”

Fire Hair nodded. “From the West Sea to here is a journey of many miles and much danger. You have come alone?”

“The dangers are not great for those who know these forests. Our village is small, and now is the best time for fish, so no one else could be spared for this journey.” Walks Crooked didn’t mention the other reasons. There’d been great debate about whether the journey was worth the risk. The West Sea tribe was distant and isolated, and fear still reigned when it came to dealing with the strange Loud-Talkers.

“May I speak to your daughter and call her by her name?”

“You may.”

Fire Hair’s attention turned to Noisy Girl, and her apprehension grew again. It was tempered, though, by Fire Hair’s attitude—her respect for Walks Crooked and her obvious knowledge of the customs of the White Fur People.

“Noisy Girl, I greet you with happiness. You are welcome to come with us and visit the tribe of the Loud-Talking People. If you wish to learn more of us, we will gladly teach you.”

“I’ve never been away from my village,” said Noisy Girl, feeling strangely at ease with this new acquaintance. “All of this is so strange.”

Behind Fire Hair, the man—Long Nose—joined the conversation with equally flawless gestures. “Perhaps your mother would wish to come and stay for a time, until you decide if you wish to remain with us or return to your village.”

“Yes,” said Walks Crooked. “I would do that, if it would be accepted.”

“It is accepted,” said Fire Hair. “You both may come and be welcome among us.”

And so it began.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

EXCERPT: Starchild

Starchild was my second published book at Dreams Unlimited. It moved to LTD after DU, then LTD went out of business. Then I bought an ad to publicize it at a magazine and the magazine promptly went out of business. I was beginning to think the book was a curse. Then it landed at Samhain, and they seem fairly solvent still, so hopefully that little string of weirdness has ended.

When billionaire financier Harrison Fairfax boards the EarthFed starship Starchild, Captain Trieka Cavendish knows he’ll bring trouble.  Earthlubbers always do.  But she has no idea “trouble” will come in the form of a vast government conspiracy that will turn her whole world upside down.

Harrison Fairfax has spent the past seven years trying to find out what happened to his wife, an investigative journalist.  But his wife’s disappearance is only the tip of the iceberg. What lies beneath is bigger—and much, much worse. It’s a conspiracy reaching to the highest echelons of EarthFed.


Government strongmen, who are on to Fairfax’s meddling, drive him and Cavendish into the wilds of the colony planet Denahault, where they discover even more secrets—and a passion that may be the only thing that can save them.


From Chapter Three

The annoying buzz that was supposed to be a chime jarred Trieka out of a more restful sleep eight hours later. Bleary, she looked at the clock on the shelf by her berth: 0459. As she stared, eyes barely focused, it clicked over to 0500 and began to beep.

Whoever was outside her door activated the buzzer again.

The situation should have made sense, but in her semi-unconscious state, Trieka couldn’t fit the pieces together.

“Captain!” That was Jeff’s voice. “Breakfast.”

“I’m coming,” Trieka replied reflexively.

She swung out of the bed as she gradually remembered she’d set her alarm a half hour later than usual. She didn’t go on duty until 0600, and had figured the extra sleep would do her some good. Quickly, she shed her pajamas and stepped into her uniform. She folded the pajamas and laid them on the bed, shoved a hand through her hair to put the riotous curls into some semblance of order, then went to the door.

Jeff and Lieutenant Wu stood outside. Jeff, as always, was pressed and pleated within an inch of his life, his dark blond hair crisply combed, boots so shiny you could touch up your mascara in the reflection. Robin at least looked like she’d recently been asleep, her fine, dark hair entertaining a not-quite tamable cowlick.

“Rough night, Captain?” Robin asked.

“No rougher than usual on the first night out.”

“Weird dreams?”

“Very.” She had no desire to go into detail, especially with her crew, but Fairfax had continued to haunt her dreams, naked and otherwise. She didn’t make a habit of using sleep enhancers, though it was fairly common for crews on long voyages, but she was beginning to wonder if it might not be a bad idea.

Although crew and passengers had been scheduled to eat in shifts, the small mess was filled to capacity. Ensign Rico had held their table while Jeff and Robin went to fetch Trieka. Trieka helped herself to the food at the counter, then joined her crew.

“How did it go last night?” Trieka asked Rico.

Rico shrugged. “Smooth. No catastrophes.”

“That’s always a good sign. How about you, Jeff? How was Fairfax’s preboard? He give you any trouble?”

“No, not really. Asked a lot of questions.”

“Good. I think Admiral Derocher would appreciate it if we were nice to him. The government wants his money.”

“Is that why he’s here?” Robin looked as if she had just solved a particularly annoying puzzle.

“That’s right. So kiss his ass as much as possible.”

Robin grinned slyly. “May I take that literally?”

“Only with his permission.”

Jeff cocked an eyebrow at Robin. “Best be careful, Lieutenant. We don’t want any lawsuits.”

Robin shrugged it off. “Not likely. I just think he’s cute, that’s all. And being rich doesn’t hurt anything, either. What do you think, Captain?”

Trieka had her mouth full of toast, which was fortuitous since the question caught her off guard. She chewed and swallowed, trying not to think about the dreams.

“I think he’s skinny and he has a big nose.”

Jeff looked at Trieka in amazement. “I think that if I were talking about a woman like that, you’d write me up.”

“Oh, please—” Robin protested, but Trieka interrupted her.

“No, Jeff’s right. It’s highly inappropriate. Lieutenant, write yourself up for unbecoming conduct.”

“Write myself up?” Robin gaped, only half-serious.

“Well, it would save me the trouble.”

Jeff, on the other hand, had worked up a snit. “I’m offended you’re not taking this seriously.”

Trieka laid a conciliatory hand on Jeff’s arm. He’d been a good friend since academy days, so she hated to chastise him. In fact, she’d requested him as her second-in-command because he was smart and dependable and maybe a little cute. But his too-proper attitude didn’t fit in with her concept of a colony ship. She wanted things more relaxed. On the other hand, he’d probably make a great admiral someday.

“I wouldn’t write you up for talking about a passenger, Jeff. After all, I didn’t even reprimand you for what you said about me at the holiday party last winter.”

Jeff slid from self-righteous to uncomfortable. “I was drunk.”

“Even so, I think you were responsible for your own actions.”

“I apologized once, and I’ll apologize again.”

Trieka grinned. She’d gotten quite a bit of mileage out of that little indiscretion. “It’s all right. Though I have to say it’s the first time I’ve ever heard my breasts compared to any kind of fruit, much less—”

Jeff waved surrender. “All right, all right. Fairfax is cute and he has a big nose. Can we please change the subject?”

“Sure. How are the passengers settling in?”

Apparently the passengers were settling in fine. Trieka listened as Jeff related the mild fiasco of the boarding procedure, half her attention focused on her own thoughts.

She had a great deal to accomplish today, with only the usual twenty-four hours to work with. She arranged her schedule in her head, Jeff’s words sinking in just far enough for comprehension.

She wasn’t sure what made her look toward the door, but when she did, Fairfax walked through it. Inexplicably, Trieka’s heart sped up, then settled into a slow, very hard rhythm that left her breathless.
He was bleary-eyed and mussed, the dark red-brown hair standing up at his crown. From the pattern of the wrinkles in his shirt, she could tell it was silk. It looked like he’d slept in it. He collected his breakfast, then sat down at a table with a group of passengers, greeting them with a weary smile.

No, Trieka wouldn’t call him cute, though the long nose gave him a bit of a sad puppy look. Not cute, but definitely not ugly. Unable to stop the thought, she wondered how accurate her dreams had been once the clothes had started coming off.

“Captain?” Jeff said.

Trieka realized he’d asked her a question. Quickly, she cast back, trying to remember what it was. Funny how she could arrange her schedule and listen to Jeff at the same time, while Fairfax’s presence seemed to crowd everything else out of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said to hide the hesitation while her mind filled in the gaps. “I was thinking.” She considered a moment. “There are a couple of empty passenger cabins. We had some last-minute pullouts. If these people really can’t stand each other, you could separate them.”

Jeff nodded decisively. “Good. That gives me some flexibility.”

Trieka returned an equally firm nod, hiding her amazement that she’d supplied a relevant answer. Jeff returned his attention to his meal, and a comfortable silence settled over the table.

Trieka’s coffee had gone cold, and she wrinkled her nose at the tepid, bitter taste. She enjoyed strong black coffee when it was hot—cold, it needed sugar. She reached across the table for a sugar packet, looking up as she did so.

Fairfax’s gaze riveted to hers from across the room. He smiled a little, and Trieka found herself staring at his mouth. His jaw was wider than his temple. His smile broadened, showing a flash of teeth. Automatically, Trieka smiled back, then, suddenly self-conscious, looked away.

A surreptitious glance a few moments later found him involved in his breakfast and the conversation of the woman sitting next to him. Resolutely, Trieka put him out of her mind and resumed planning her day.

* * *

Fairfax was exhausted. Even five cups of black coffee couldn’t keep his eyes open. He should have tried to exchange his early breakfast shift with someone else. It had occurred to him, but it had also occurred to him that Captain Cavendish would probably eat at the early shift. For whatever reason, it had seemed worth the loss of sleep to exchange that smile with her across the room and see her look away as if it had affected her.

But he was paying for it now. Finally, after drifting into semi-unconsciousness one too many times, he excused himself from the breakfast table and returned to his room.

The berth in the small cabin barely allowed him to stretch out to his full six foot one inch frame. He lay very still on his back for a time, trying to let his mind drift. Unfortunately, the drifting kept finding a target. He opened one eye to look at the computer pad sitting on the small desk. If he reached out, he could pick it up without even stretching…

No. He’d been up all night struggling with the encrypted files he’d snagged from Derocher’s logs. It wouldn’t do him any good to struggle more with them today. The little pad just didn’t have the processing power to break the encryption. He’d have to access the shipboard computers to take advantage of their power.

He needed to get into Cavendish’s logs as well. He had to know if she carried orders from Derocher—something other than the simple delivery of a few colonists to their destination. He had to know, and not just because it would add to the pile of evidence if she did. In fact, he hoped she didn’t.

Madison had taught him a lot about ship’s computers, too. Fairfax began to run the most common configurations through his head, theorizing where the weakest points might be in the system’s security. The theoretical networks became pictures—spinning, mesmerizing webs. He wasn’t certain when they caught him, but they did, and he fell into sleep.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Free Holiday Read: Christmas at Farhallen

Set in the Starchild universe, several decades before the first book.

Although the long-haul colony freighter had hung within it for approximately seventy-two hours, hyperspace remained a theoretical construct, explainable only through strings of numbers, symbols, and the occasional Greek letter. It would get the ship where it needed to go, but no one on board knew how.

The idea didn’t bother Captain Blake Farhallen. All he needed to know was which button to push and when to push it. After he pushed it, they would theoretically emerge from the wormhole, hyperspace tunnel, or whatever the mathematicians had decided to call the theoretical construct, and end up where they’d intended to go. He hadn’t actually tried it yet, but he had no option other than to assume it would work. Assuming anything else would just be asking for a nervous breakdown.

His carefully calculated attitude of intellectual indifference didn’t stop the rest of the crew from engaging in speculation about the functionality of the phenomenon of hyperspace. The current argument revolved around what the actual, factual calendar date was at the moment. Most importantly, whether or not it was Christmas yet.

Farhallen sprawled in the captain’s chair—not that comfortable a chair for sprawling, to be honest, but he was s sprawler by nature. Lieutenant Pru Holloway had her head bent over a computational pad, poking it rhythmically with a stylus. Bret Diego, the engineer, watched her intently. He’d already done his own calculations, but Pru wanted to run them herself.

“Are you sure that’s right?” Bret asked.

Pru gave him a withering glare. Her distinctly Japanese features and jet-black hair belied her name. “Of course I am. You used the wrong entry formula. It changes the rotational structure of the hyperspace corridor.”

“Huh,” said Bret, thoughtfully scratching a spot on his temple. Pru presented the pad to him with a look of almost menacing glee. “Huh,” said Bret again, and slumped back into his own chair to mumble his way through the numbers.

Pru threw her triumphant look at the captain. He grinned. She was cocky, overconfident, and annoying as all hell, and he had a strange feeling he might marry her after this was all over and they were back on Earth.

“Is it Christmas?” he asked her.

Her glee changed instantly to peeved annoyance. “How the hell should I know?”
Farhallen chuckled and shook his head. “I thought that was the point of the exercise.”

“The point of the exercise,” Bret put in, “was to hand me my ass on a plate.”

“Which I did,” Pru shot back.

“Which you did. However—” He passed the computational pad back to her. From where he sat, Farhallen could see the long, red line of a correction across its flat, black surface. “I screwed it up, you’re right, but you set the median warp factor too high.”

Pru wrinkled her nose so firmly it nearly disappeared into her face. “Dammit. You’re right.”

“I am.” Bret’s voice was bland. “And it’s December twenty-fourth. More or less.”

“Christmas Eve, then.” Farhallen unsprawled a little; the position was starting to strain his back.

“Christmas Eve,” Bret confirmed.

“I never celebrate Christmas,” Pru announced. She was a member of one of the modern Buddhist schools that had never made much sense to Farhallen. Then again, none of the classic Buddhist schools had ever made much sense to him, either.

“No candy canes for you, then,” said Bret. He was imperturbable, or at least Farhallen had never seen him perturbed.

“We should do something.” This was First Officer Melanie Walsh, whom Farhallen had thought was ignoring the shenanigans. “Just a little something. It doesn’t have to be religious.”

“It’s fine with me,” the captain said. “But you’d better hurry. It won’t be Christmas anymore in thirty-six hours.”

“Who said thirty-six hours?” Pru protested.

“I did.” Farhallen pushed up from the captain’s chair and stretched. “I’m the captain. So you officially have a day and a half to make it Christmas.”

#

The biggest problem with hyperspace, besides its being purely mathematical, was that it was boring.

Farhallen didn’t do well with boring. He was high energy—it was one of the things that had led him to the military in the first place. Having something to do would at least help, even if it was celebrating a holiday that might or might not be relevant.

It also gave him the chance to stroll the halls and act as if he were in charge of something. He hadn’t done anything remotely command-like since they’d entered hyperspace.

They didn’t have much, if anything, that could be pressed into service as Christmas decorations. Not for the first time, he wondered if the mathematical construct of hyperspace might involve some color—maybe even handy shades of red and green. But most experts in how hyperspace might or might not work seemed to agree that looking at it was a bad idea.

But when he got back to the common room—more like a common closet, since there was barely room for any meaningful congregating—the crew was already busily decorating.

They’d cut red and green paper into garlands and Chinese lamps, draped from corner to corner of the tiny space. Pru was standing on a chair pointing at Bret and the others, barking out orders in her high-pitched, Chihuahua-like voice.

Farhallen grinned. She really was his favorite.

“Mistletoe,” she said. “Mistletoe and oak leaves. That’s traditional and Pagan at the same time.”

Bret nodded and scurried off, presumably to stick a hand out the window and pluck a supply of mistletoe and oak leaves out of the hyperspace navigation wormhole tunnel or whatever it was that surrounded them. Farhallen shook his head. Bret hadn’t even questioned the order.

“How many religions do we need to represent?” Farhallen queried. Eyes turned in his direction; they’d been so involved in watching Pru that they hadn’t even noticed he’d come in. So much for his compelling aura of command.

“All of them,” Pru chirped. It was a sharp-edged, somewhat irritated chirp, like a sparrow being waterboarded.

Farhallen gave her a look meant to be searching, but he was sure it was more besotted than anything else. “There’s only thirty people on the ship, Pru. Maybe six religions represented, tops.”

“We’re an exploratory vessel with long-term goals of colonization,” she countered. “Thus we represent the whole planet Earth and all its varying belief systems.”

He found himself agreeing before he even gave himself a chance to think about it. “You’re absolutely right. Good point.” To his surprise, she gave him a little smile. His heart turned inside-out. God, he was an idiot.

Bret returned, carrying an armful of what looked very much like mistletoe and oak leaves. Farhallen blinked.

“Synthetics,” Bret said by way of useless explanation. “You’d be amazed what you can scare up if you ask nice.”

Farhallen rolled his eyes. This place was a nuthouse. At least at the moment, it wasn’t boring.

And it got suddenly less boring. Abruptly, the ship lurched to the side. It sat at an almost forty-five degree angle for a few seconds, then slowly rotated back into place. Pru fell off her command perch. Farhallen caught her, not sure how he’d managed to get to her before she face-planted into the deck. The pole in the middle of the room, which he now saw was festooned with Stars of David, Wiccan pentangles, and the strange, Ouroboros-like symbol of the nascent Church of Far-Seeing, tipped sideways, as well.

Bret pushed the pole back to a right angle and looked at the captain. “What the hell was that?”

“How the hell should I know?” Farhallen countered. “I’m just the captain.”

Then a high, screeling sound filled the small room, and the baffle plates began to open. A morass of emotion poured through Farhallen, along with an intense flood of adrenaline.

The baffle plates were supposed to stay securely closed, a tenuous but effective barrier between the crew and the poorly defined dangers of hyperspace. They could open automatically, though, if the ship’s hyperspace arc took it close enough to a planet. The ship would then drop out of hyperspace to allow the crew to take readings and make appropriate reports.

All this rushed through his mind as the adrenaline brought him to a high state of alert, then his military training kicked in to bring him back into a slow-moving ocean of calm.

“Turn around.” His voice was dead calm. “Turn around. Don’t look out the window.”

Everyone in the room obeyed immediately. Pru passed him a worried look, biting her lip. Slowly, Farhallen followed his own order. He stood stone-still, fists clenching and unclenching, the sound of the baffle plates opening a harsh, metallic wail behind him.

It took exactly one hundred and seventeen seconds for the baffle plates to fully retract and settle into the locked, open position. It felt like three hours. Farhallen closed his eyes to ride out the wait. Knowing he couldn’t turn around and look made him want to turn around and look. What the hell could be so bad about looking at hyperspace, anyway? It was just math.

He jumped when the baffle plates slammed into the locked position. Pru glanced at him sidelong, and he could see fear in her eyes. He’d never seen fear in Pru’s eyes before.

He swallowed. Heavy silence fell over the room, so thick he could breathe it.

Finally, carefully, he said, “Nobody move. Don’t turn.”

He knew what he was about to do, knew he had to do it, because the captain did these things. The captain took the hits he needed to take, to keep the rest of the crew safe.

“No.” Pru’s protest was so soft it barely stirred the tension-thick air.

Farhallen turned around.

Had he turned a few seconds earlier, the results might have been different. As it was, he saw the strange, waving undulations out of the corners of his eyes as they disappeared off the sides of the wide viewscreen. They were green and red but also pastels and grays, like nacre, but overlaid with blood, fire, and thick, heady rain.

There was no describing it, not really. It moved off the edges of his vision, leaving him with the feeling that someone had thrust an eggbeater into his ear and turned it on high.

Everything seemed to dip and sink under him. He thought he staggered, but he didn’t, his feet still anchored firmly to the floor.

Then the colors disappeared, leaving the viewscreen speckled with stars, and the looming, pregnant curve of a blue-green planet.

He stood stock-still, staring at it, his breath suspended.

“Captain…” Pru’s voice, quiet.

He blinked and realized he needed to draw air, and soon. “Turn,” he said, the word barely audible even to himself. “Turn. Look. My God, look.”

He heard them turn behind him, the faint rustle. Pru stood at the corner of his vision, and her shift was a circular movement just to his left. Then the sound of moving bodies was eclipsed by the sound of indrawn breath, as if everyone in the room had gasped simultaneously. Perhaps they had.

It was beautiful. A perfect orb, its curve filling the wide viewscreen. Blue and green, oceans and continents brushed with wisps of white cloud.

They’d all seen Earth from space, and more than once. Looking down on this planet, though, they saw different outlines, a continent with a curve of coastline like a lion’s head, proud and commanding. An ocean so deep green-blue that Farhallen thought it must be deeper than any ocean Earth had ever hosted.

The collective gasp had eased into a reverent silence. They were closer to the planet than he’d ever imagined would be safe for a jump out of hyperspace, but the vagaries of viable jump points weren’t to be questioned, especially if they worked.

He felt as if he could reach out and touch it.

“We’re the first,” said Pru, her voice baby-soft, like a prayer. “The first ever.”

Farhallen smiled. “We are.” Reluctant, he turned away from the beauty of the blue-green orb and faced his small crew. “Merry Christmas.”

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

IWOFA Summer Breeze Contest


Check out the new IWOFA Summer Breeze Contest. Over 100 authors and tons of great prizes, including a paperback copy of Earthchild. Check it out here.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Earthchild Now in Paperback!


Earthchild is now available in paperback. Drop by and pick up a copy.
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Friday, March 27, 2009

Earthchild Paperback Available for Pre-order

The paperback release of Earthchild is now available for pre-order at Amazon.

Could he give up the stars.for her? Taken in as an infant and raised by the primitive, non-human natives of the colony planet Denahault, Noisy Girl has always known she was different. Human settlers initiating peaceful contact confirm it-her true home is a planet called Earth, millions of miles away among the stars. Her search for her heritage leads her to the home of Harrison Fairfax and Trieka Cavendish, and their guest Jeff Anderson, Trieka's former second-in-command. For Jeff, Trieka's offer to captain the legendary ship Starchild is a lifelong dream fulfilled. Then he meets Noisy Girl, an entrancing young woman who speaks only in sign language. She captures his imagination like no other woman ever has, and his efforts to teach her English deepens a relationship he never thought was possible for him. But the claustrophobic, technology-laden atmosphere of Earth traumatizes the gentle Noisy Girl, and suddenly Jeff's choices aren't quite so clear. If he accepts permanent command of Starchild, all hope of happiness with this beguiling woman will be destroyed. Unless a compromise can be found.

Earthchild arrives in paperback on April 28.

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Fantasm Awards Nominee--Earthchild


Earthchild has been nominated for a Fantasm Award--not for the book, but for the fantastic cover art.

Congratulations to Dawn Seewer for the nomination. I've loved this cover since I first saw it, and I'm honored to work with Dawn and the other wonderful artists at Samhain.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

It's Here!


Starchild is now available in paperback! I got my author's copies last week, and they are shiny.


A no-nonsense starship captain and a billionaire financier, Fairfax and Cavendish are the ultimate odd couple. Until an insidious government conspiracy leaves them with nothingexcept each other. When financier Harrison Fairfax boards the EarthFed starship Starchild, Captain Trieka Cavendish knows he'll bring trouble. Earthlubbers always do. But she has no idea "trouble" will come in the form of a vast government conspiracy that will turn her whole world upside down. Harrison Fairfax has spent the past seven years trying to find out what happened to his wife, an investigative journalist. But his wife's disappearance is only the tip of the iceberg. What lies beneath is biggerand much, much worse. It's a conspiracy reaching to the highest echelons of EarthFed. Government strongmen, who are on to Fairfax's meddling, drive him and Cavendish into the wilds of the colony planet Denahault, where they discover even more secretsand a passion that may be the only thing that can save them.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

New Earthchild Review


Vi Janaway, at Romance Reviews Today, just posted a lovely review for Earthchild.

"EARTHCHILD, the sequel to STARCHILD, is sweet and hot, a lovely tale of wonder, discovery, and re-discovery of what is truly important.... I liked this adventure story. Katriena Knights has written a well-blended delight of love and passion between two strong characters. I recommend it."

Read the full review here.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Starchild Paperback Available for Pre-order

While I was poking around amazon.com looking for links, I discovered that the paperback version of Starchild, from Samhain, is available for pre-order. It releases on 11-25—pre-order it here, cause you know like a gazillion people are going to try to buy it on release day... :-D

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

For Those Who Kindle...

If you've succumbed to the shiny, shiny lure of the Kindle e-reader and are looking for reading material, Samhain books are available in Kindle editions. Including mine! Check them out at the following amazon.com links:

Starchild

Earthchild

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

New Review for Starchild

"Ms. Knight’s writing is smooth and descriptive without being heavy-handed, a neat trick in a genre that can sometimes get mired in technospeak.
"Starchild is more sensual than spicy, but at about 82k words, it’s a satisfying read with plenty of excitement to keep you turning pages."—Seanachie, Erotic Romance Reviews

Read full review here.

And buy the book OVER HERE! :-)

Thursday, August 7, 2008

What KK is Up To

This week, I'm working on the galley proofs for the paperback release of Starchild, scheduled for late November. (I might have said October before, but that is incorrect.) I'm very much looking forward to seeing the final product.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Earthchild Trailer

I spent a couple of weekends fiddling with a new trailer for Earthchild. Normally I can do these in an evening, but this was my first time with iMovie, and I also did the music in Garage Band, which was a bit time-consuming. I probably won't use iMovie for future trailers, because I'm not completely happy with its limited options, but I think it came out pretty well for a first effort.

Take a look:


Thursday, June 26, 2008

Earthchild--"DVD Extras"

I wish I could remember as much about the origins of Earthchild as I could about its predecessor. I know I started thinking about a sequel to the original book when it was first published, and, having decided not to kill off Jeff this time around, I wanted to focus on his character. The White Fur People drew me to write more about them, as well, and it seemed like a good combination. So that was the germ of the romance between Jeff Anderson and Noisy Girl.

Noisy Girl really came together for me after I had started writing, and caught Aimee Mann performing on David Letterman. I'd been a fan ever since "Voices Carry," but when I saw her that night suddenly she was Noisy Girl to me in many ways. Noisy Girl's singing had already found its way into the story by then, but this solidified it, and brought her character much more strongly to life, much as had happened to me on the first book when I started identifying Fairfax with Fox Mulder in my head.

I had originally planned to write I think two more stories in this series, but when the first publisher of these two books folded, those plans were put on a back burner. I recently went through all my old hard drives and was unable to find the original proposal for the third and fourth books, though, and I can't remember what the fourth one was about... Ah, the joys of getting old. Maybe there'll be a third book, though. Only time will tell.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Starchild--"DVD Extras"

Just out of curiosity, I dug a really, really old manuscript out of my closet yesterday--the original version of Starchild. Why so old? Well, I put the first incarnation of this story to paper when I was in eighth grade. We won't discuss how long ago that was...

Of course the story was different back then, but what I found most interesting was how much was the same. The characters' names didn't change, although in the original version I referred to Fairfax by his first name. That changed in the later incarnations when Harrison Fairfax became, in my head, a sort of spin-off, personality/appearance-wise, of Fox Mulder. So Fairfax and Cavendish started referring to each other by their last names, a la Mulder and Scully. In the original story (which is, by the way, only 135 pages, typed on one of those things we used to have before computers, you know, um, what were they called? Typewriters, that was it...), Kate dies near the beginning. And I killed off Jeff, too, which might be part of why he ended up with his own book this time around. There was still a romance between the leads--I remember being quite embarrassed by it all at the time.

One idea from the book that I seriously considered keeping during the later rewrite was the concept of the aliens. My teenage self produced an alien race that appeared human, but whose body temperature was a few degrees lower than ours. They also could see on the infrared spectrum, so when they encountered humans, they interpreted the higher body temperature as a sign of greater power, and so saw the human settlers as a threat. I liked this idea, but I'd had the idea of a not-quite-human race that communicated via sign language rattling around in my head for quite a while, as well, and in the end that one won because it was more intriguing to me at the time. And another plot element that remained, oddly enough, was Fairfax's leg injury serving as a catalyst to bridge the gap between the human and alien races.

So there you have it--the short version of the journey of Starchild from a teenage effort to a real-life novel. It still makes me smile to think that something I wrote that long ago grew into a publishable work. Maybe I'll pull out some of those old folders and see what other gems I can find...

Monday, June 16, 2008

Another Nice Earthchild Review


"I love being able to discover a new-to-me author. It's one of the greatest perks to reviewing, but more often than not, my new author discoveries aren't really all I wish they were.

Then again, sometimes I get a book like Katriena Knights' Earthchild which manages to do pretty much everything right and leave me with a smile on my face and hope for one of my favorite romance subgenres."--Shannon C. for The Good, The Bad, the Unread

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Nice Earthchild Review


Earthchild has received a nice review from Coffeetime Romance.

Rating: 4 cups

"Miss Knights has a clever way of leading a reader along without them realizing they have read the entire book. The use of only a complex form of sign language for the White Fur People is expertly written and gives the book an extra twist not often found."--Hollie

Thanks to Hollie and Coffeetime Romance for the great review!

Also, this week, Earthchild got an 87 rating from Mrs. Giggles. It's nice to know folks are enjoying the book. :-)

Friday, June 6, 2008

Earthchild Has Arrived!



Earthchild arrives today in e-book format at Samhain Publishing. A sequel to Starchild, it tells the story of Noisy Girl, a human raised by the White Fur People of Denahault. In her search to learn about her origins and her true people, she encounters Jeff Anderson, erstwhile second-in-command of the Starchild. When their feelings begin to deepen, can they find a compromise that will satisfy both a man of the stars and a woman who's never left her adopted planet?

Read an excerpt here.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Nice Review for Starchild


Romance Reviews Today has posted a very nice review for Starchild.

"With STARCHILD, Katriena Knights blends social awareness with a first-rate, danger-filled, science fiction story. Faced with pain, suffering, greed, and political intrigue, two highly intelligent, self-sufficient people make this book a riveting tale."—Vi Janaway

Read the full review at the link above. Thanks to RRT and Ms. Janaway for a wonderful review.