The Dangers of Creation; or, A Machine to Rival Man by Siri Paulson
Engine Dreamer by Siri Paulson
Gears in space--what could be better?
It's nearly the end of another gardening season where I live. We're lucky enough to have a longer summer and fall than the even more northerly city where I grew up, but it does eventually come to an end. (There's a reason Canadian Thanksgiving falls more than six weeks earlier than its American equivalent...)
To be honest, I'm a bit relieved. Not because I like winter (I really, really don't) but because I got overambitious this summer. I planted too much, had too many high-maintenance plants, and set my expectations for myself too high while at the same time feeling constantly behind. Problems came up and I didn't deal with them effectively, or sometimes at all. Then what was supposed to be fun and relaxing became stressful instead.
Wait, was I talking about gardening, or...?
Anyway, some things I learned this year:
The demons come, devouring life and light. Armed with sword and spell, Keepers meet the scourge. Above nations, beyond the law, to be a Keeper is to hold power--but power always comes with a price.
Introducing Burning Bright, the first book of the Seize the Fire trilogy.
Burning Bright, Chapter One
by KD Sarge
“Keeper-Apprentice Kunihiro Takai,” Ume said, “well done. Harmony herself, Lady of Harvests, would be pleased to call this place home. She might even bring the twins, Binder and Unwinder, which holy children—”
“Little thanks to you.” Hiro pushed a book on the shelf nearest him more in line with its fellows. There. The little library was perfect. The kitchen behind him sparkled. The porch was neat, the garden weeded, Eshan’s bedroom freshened...he never should have let it get so bad. But now Eshan would never know.
“I did my part,” Ume said, flopping into the big chair Eshan curled up in on winter evenings. “I trotted up here and warned you the healers were letting him go today.” She flung long brown legs over the arm as she sprawled. “And when you asked for help, I told you. Demons to be defeated? Drunkery to be debauched? I’m in. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, minding? Not this wench. Especially if I’m not allowed to use magic.”
Like many writers, I haven't always had the friendliest relationship with my muses.
Actually, that's a very diplomatic (and less than honest) way to put it. I've been known to throw bricks at them. I have threatened them with fire, called them obscene names, and sang a certain unmentionable song from a certain DisneyWorld ride at them over and over and over until they coughed up a scene I wanted.
Yes, it's childish, but they started it.