Jenyfer Matthews

ECHOES OF PASSION releases today! It’s part of the sci-fi Hunters for Hire series available from Ellora’s Cave and Cerridwen Press! Here’s a bit about it:

Neotia Prime… The home world of the Neoti and the Vozuans was destroyed by a doomsday device twenty years ago, but the troubles and unrest that led to the event still plague those who resettled on the twin planet.

When Daegon Bosaru arrives on the unnamed world, determined to uncover who is out to smear his dying father’s good name, he discovers that the tragedies of that civil war still haunt those who remain. Not only that, the mysterious, beautiful woman he’s been seeing in his dreams over the past twenty years may have information he needs. But when he finally meets Imreen Dal in the flesh, she seems not to know him—and furthermore, she runs from him every time she encounters him. Why?

Rumors persist that the crazed dictator who set off the doomsday device may still be alive…with fresh plans for conquest. Bosaru needs to find out how his father, the mysterious Imreen and the madman are related…and stop another world from being destroyed.

Read more about the story behind the story plus an excerpt on a previous feature on Jenyfer’s blog.

Buy this book!

Eilis Flynn has spent a large chunk of her life working on Wall Street or in a Wall Street-related firm, so why should she write fiction that’s any more based in reality? She spends her days aware that there is a reality beyond what we can see and tells stories about it for Cerridwen Press. Published in other genres, she lives in Seattle with her husband and spoiled rotten cats. Visit her website to learn more about Eilis and her writing.

Eilis Flynn has worked at a comic book company, a couple of Wall Street brokerage firms, a wire service, and a magazine for futurists. She’s written a variety of things that don’t seem to belong together, but they do: comic book stories both online and in print, scholarly works in a previous life as a scholar, book reviews and interviews, and articles about finance (at odds with her anthropology background), before settling down to write romantic fantasies about the reality beyond what we can see.

Eilis’s latest book, Echoes of Passion, is coming out from Cerridwen Press on July 2, 2009.

With Spaceships Instead of Horses

One of the most famous stories about the creation of Star Trek is how Gene Roddenberry referred to the show as he was shopping it around: “Wagon Train” to the stars, he said, referring to a TV Western show that was popular at the time. Boiled down to the generalities, they had a lot in common: Every week, there was a new story about something different on their voyages. One voyage just happened to be on the dusty trail, the other in deep space.

When I was writing Echoes of Passion, I tried to keep that in mind. EoP, you see, is a sci-fi romance, and even though I’d written fantasies before, I’d never written anything resembling science fiction (I don’t count stories about super-heroines as sci-fi; they are firmly in the realm of the fantastic). Because EoP is a story in the Hunters for Hire universe, a shared universe created and developed by a number of Ellora’s Cave and Cerridwen Press authors, I had to make sure I adhered to the story bible. I couldn’t come up with plot devices out of the blue that might be at cross-ends with the bible, so I had to make sure that the indigenous peoples were either mentioned or not contradicting story canon. And it had to be something that was vaguely futuristic. It had to be space opera.

But I’m not a fan of opera in general.

I had a vague story idea but that was it, and my fear of having to deal with someone else’s canon kept tripping me up. But I kept reminding myself that the space opera was mere trapping, that a story was a story, and once I kept that in mind, EoP finally bloomed.

ECHOES OF PASSION is about Daegon Bosaru, a Secret Sciences Police officer, who discovers that someone is spreading damaging rumors about the role that his dying father, the former Neotian ambassador to the Amalgamation, played in the Neotian civil war. To discover the truth, Daegon must travel to the new home world of his clan — where he encounters a mysterious, passionate woman he has been seeing in his dreams for most of his life. She has information he needs — but she disappears whenever he gets close to her.

What does the mysterious woman know? And what do the accusations against his father have to do with this? Bosaru discovers that Verot Barus Kurog, the crazed ex-dictator who led the home world into a civil war, is still alive, and has plans to rise to glory again, no matter how many more people have to die for it to happen — and the doomsday device that destroyed Neotia Prime is still within his grasp.

Bosaru must track down the mad ex-dictator — but first, he must find out what the woman of mystery knows.

ECHOES OF PASSION

Secrets can destroy, but they can also liberate

Neotia Prime…

The home world of the Neoti and the Vozuans was destroyed by a doomsday device twenty years ago, but the troubles and the unrest that led to the event still plague those who resettled on the twin planet. When Daegon Bosaru arrives there, determined to find out who is out to smear his dying father’s good name, he discovers that the tragedies of that civil war still haunt those who remain. Not only that, the mysterious, beautiful woman he’s been seeing in his dreams over the past twenty years may have information he needs, but when he finally meets Imreen Dal in the flesh, she seems not to know him–and further, she runs from him every time she encounters him. Why?

And rumors persist that the crazed dictator who set off the doomsday device may still be alive…with fresh plans for conquest. Bosaru needs to find out how his father, the mysterious Imreen, and the madman are related…and stop another world from being destroyed.

ECHOES OF PASSION
Excerpt

Where did you go? You’re not getting away this time, Imreen Dal!

A flash out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. So what was going on, she hit him over his head and then tried to trip him up, but she stayed around to make sure he was all right? That was a mistake.

She took off, but he was faster, and now, he was angry. She knew the area better, but he knew it fairly well by now. And he was very angry.

Every time she took a turn, he took it a little faster. Every time she tried to double back, he blocked her way. Little by little, he cornered her again–into an open-air alley, with natural light, with no windows, no exits, no tunnels nearby. She was trapped.

If he hadn’t been blindingly angry, he would have felt bad about it. But just in case, he made sure there was nothing around that she could hit him over the head with again.

There was a small, quivering shadow in the corner, almost hidden behind the trash bins.

Her time was up.

“Imreen Dal. Show yourself!” Bosaru shouted.

For a minute the alley was dead silent. For a minute he didn’t think she would comply. Finally he heard a rustle in the shadowed corner before an indistinct form emerged. Even before she hit the light he knew who it was. The white and gold fabric of her priestess shift glinted, just enough to highlight the curves it was wrapped around.

Imreen Dal. The same priestess he first encountered in the shrine.

Imreen Dal. The woman who had been his dreams’ companion all these years.

“Imreen Dal.” Bosaru took a deep breath. “Good to see you again.”

The expression on her face was pensive. Or was it doleful? “I wish I could say the same, Officer Bosaru,” she said. “I did my best to keep away from you, but to this end.”

“Why?”

Her face shifted from pensive–resigned, he realized–to something set. There was a glint in her eye. “I thought it was clear. I do not want to speak to you.”

Well, that was blunt. “Just a few questions.”

“I decline.”

“Why? You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”

“I can guess.”

“Then why didn’t you just decline instead of leading me on a chase?”

“Would you have let it go at that?”

“No,” Bosaru said. “And you didn’t have to hit me over the head, either.”

“I didn’t,” she said.

They stared at each other for a second. “Then who did?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

Bosaru stared at her some more. “You weren’t in the burned-out building around the corner?”

She shook her head. “I was hiding around the corner of it when you went inside. I avoid that building. It’s not stable.”

“But it’s got an entrance to the tunnels. I thought that’s where you were going.”

“I don’t like the tunnels either,” she said. “I only use them when I have to.”

“Then why weren’t you gone by the time I got back out?”

“I was worried about you,” she said. “I stayed until I saw you coming out and knew you were safe. And then I left.”

“Then why didn’t you go into the alleyway that was closest? That would have let you in a safe place.”

“I don’t like that alleyway,” she said.

“Is there anything you do like?”

“Being left alone.”

“What is with you?” he asked, exasperated. “I’m not asking for m–”

“I need to get out of here,” she said, her eyes growing huge. “Now.”

She tried to leave, tried to run, but Bosaru stopped her. “Why?”

Imreen Dal looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Haven’t you noticed?” she asked. “The sun’s set. We can’t be out.”

Echoes of Passion – coming from Cerridwen Press July 2009!

I have another amazing Cerridwen Press author with me this week, Eilis Flynn. Eilis Flynn is a longtime member of the Greater Seattle chapter of the Romance Writers of America, a veteran of the Wall Street wars, has been a professional journalist, a scholar, and even wrote comic books. She lives in a quiet neighborhood with her all-suffering husband and cranky cats.

Eilis is here to share her latest release, Introducing Sonika.

Blurb:

If you had the power to save the world, what would make you give it up?

Trained by her parents to use her unique abilities to fight crime, Sonya Penn gave it all up when her parents were killed by their archenemy, Gentleman Geoffrey. She turned away from what would have been her life, trying instead to be a “normal” person, unable to admit her powers to manipulate speed and sound preclude her from ever being normal.

Her “ordinary” life as a physical therapist comes to an abrupt end, however, when she finds herself falling in love with John Arlen, her newest client, but disturbed by his plans to avenge his father, who was murdered by the son of Gentleman Geoffrey. Drawn to his passion and determination, she agrees to help him in his quest. Sonya finds herself at the crossroads of her destiny: Will she don the uniform she was meant to? Complicating matters is a small thing – someone is trying to kill John. Is it Geoffrey’s son – or someone else?

by

Eilis Flynn

“Wait,” he heard himself saying.

She stopped and turned. “What?”

He didn’t know what he was doing, but he did it anyway. He reached over and kissed her on the lips. “Good luck.”

She smiled, as sweet as the kiss itself. “Thanks.” She spun and started off across the rooftop, her footsteps noiseless. In the dusk, she looked like a panther stalking her prey as she disappeared into the darkness.

Right now, he wouldn’t want to cross her.

He made his way along to the corner of the rooftop and looked down at the ground, where a man was approaching the entrance. He was stopped by the goon at the door, where there appeared to be a conversation, and then he entered.

Arlen heard a scurry and saw Sonya shinny down the side of the building, hanging by her rope. He watched her pause at a window.

Ordinarily, that wouldn’t have made him nervous. What did put him on edge was the fact she was hanging upside down as she did it.

More practice, my ass, he mused again. He could barely walk and she didn’t find it unusual to be walking upside down the side of a building.

More and more men approached the entrance as he watched, and more and more were allowed in. Only twice were those who approached turned away. From the gestures he saw, he concluded they didn’t have the ID the goon at the gate was looking for–was it an invitation? But they went away without a word.

Thieves had better manners than football fans.

Something moved at the edge of his vision and he looked in that direction. Sonya had apparently gotten tired of hanging upside down. She was now walking on the side of the building, looking like a Native American traversing a path in the woods. Welcome to the Leatherstocking Tales, modern version.

The trickle of visitors to the warehouse eventually slowed as the hum of activity rose to a dull roar inside. He lost sight of his partner in trespass, first with the deepening darkness and then when she turned the corner. She still had the rope, though it was unfurling, little by little, as she went farther from the spot where it was anchored.

What lesson was that from her parents? Rule One Thousand Five Hundred Thirty-Four, How to Perform Reconnaissance? Had she ever learned whatever it was that little girls learned from their mothers–knitting or sewing or cooking or whatever? He couldn’t imagine it. That would have been too surreal. Superhero by night, happy homemaker by day.

The roar got louder. As he watched, the doors down below burst open and the attendees poured out, weapons drawn, shouting.

“Who was that?” he made out. “The guards up on the roof! Where are the guards up on the roof?”

John withdrew hastily, looking around. This was not good. “Sonya! Sonya?”

No answer. He heard the clang of the ladder, the shriek of rusted metal grinding against itself. That had to be the attendees, and it wasn’t that far up to the top. “Sone!” he finally called out. Where was she?

He heard “What the hell?” Then a shout. Then many shouts.

“We’re getting out of here!” rang out a familiar voice.

Her silhouette appeared at the top of the ladder. She was kicking down, one by one, whoever came up the ladder, almost daintily. But she couldn’t keep it up forever.

He looked around. The ladder was the only way down, except for the locked exit leading down to the warehouse itself. There wasn’t anything on the rooftop to jam the door closed–

Yes! It was a cylinder of what looked like tarpaper, probably left there by roofers to ready the surface for the coming winter, along with a pile of roofing equipment. He hurried over and tried to pull it. It didn’t budge. Finally, he began to push it toward the door, trying to block the entrance.

He heard the rattle of keys on the other side of the locked door. He had to hurry. He gritted his teeth as he pushed, ignoring the pain shooting up his leg and then the twinge when he stumbled. Finally, the cylinder of tarpaper rolled and hit just as the door was cracking open, and he guessed by the shouts their would-be pursuers were knocked off their feet.

That wouldn’t hold them for long. Sonya was going to tire. She wasn’t used to holding off scores of thugs, no matter how much she could do. Once he was satisfied the cylinder wasn’t going to move and the door was wedged closed, he ran to Sonya and looked down.

Even thugs knew when to go around. She was fending them off, but he guessed by the way they were running they had figured out another way.

He heard the clang of metal again, but this one was new. What was it? He limped to the blind side of the building, the side he had assumed was safe because it was smooth, without a ladder.

No, not safe. It was too close to the building next door, which had an emergency ladder. They were scrambling up that ladder, and would, sooner or later, try to jump across.

Some of them wouldn’t make it. But some of them would.

“Got any ideas?” he shouted to Sonya. They were surrounded and sooner or later they would have guests. He had his own rope and he had grappling hooks–they could be used as weapons if need be–but that was all, since Sonya had persuaded him not to carry his grandfather’s Enfield.

Five minutes, tops, that was about all they had. That was his estimate for himself but Sonya could beat them off longer, though she too would tire eventually.

But she didn’t seem concerned. She kicked off one last attacker and then turned to him. “Get ready to do what I tell you.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I’m waiting for one of the idiots across the way to start shooting,” she answered calmly.

The banging had stopped on the exit door. He didn’t like that. “What are you talking about?”

“I just need–”

A shot rang out.

Buy this Book!