Colour of Maine (3/3)

First short of the next collection complete (barring copyediting, of course). I’m rather please for how I wrapped it up, keeping with the religious and life-affirming themes of my works (barring all those people Fussy and Aurie have killed, of course; that’s war, not murder – a critical distinction).

My future history is called Machine Civilization, but there are times where it’s all humans, or sometimes humans and demis. I’m glad I was able to get tribe Toshsaka back into the fray. Many no longer have any relationship with physicals at all. Nice to see Thaad, eldest Thinking Machine on Earth, is still about.

I don’t think it’s prurient to mention Colour’s post-coital response. I recall a million years ago, BC (before children), when my wife was overseas on assignment in the Far East for a mere six months. I made sure she couldn’t walk much the next day; funny thing was, with those muscles out of use, I couldn’t much either.

Trying to piece my way through a second story. Having people talk to themselves, by themselves, is not really engaging to the reader, so, like an orb, I am pondering things.

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Colour of Maine (2/3)

We start with more politics with the NorFed Executive Council before Colour pokes the wrong bear and gets her orders from Aurie. Part of this is fun for me: only by being middle-aged myself could I imagine “old folks” striking up a romance. What I would have considered creepy in my 20s is perfectly normal, now.

When Colour walks out of the meeting, I had to remind myself just how do you get ahold of someone in a tech environment equivalent to the 1970s? We all take our phones for granted. Fortunately, Loup must have realized that, too, so I had him hanging out in the area. We find out why he’s there.

Conclusion tomorrow. With the Henge-talk at the end of this part, I’m now thinking she should get a short story, too.

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Colour of Maine (1/3)

Happy New Year. Yeah, sure. Buy precious metals: silver and lead. In the meantime, I am beginning book #19: my third short story collection. Especially after my last three novels, there are many, many threads which need to be tied off. One of which is Miss Colour Jansen of Maine, Northern Federation, who Aurie made off with in Regent and we see now and again in Ice Inundation Intelligence. I threw some words at the wall between Christmas and New Years to give her closure, and that’s what we’ll see this week.

After that, I really need to find out what the hell happened in Broken Child, a story in Imperial Entanglements. I’ve seen resentment about Aurie being Fussy’s successor, and I’ve a few other things buzzing in the back of my mind, as well.

My objective is to have all the shorts done by Ash Wednesday. As I’m sure my copyeditor is giving up booze for Lent, he can bill me after Easter. That leaves me the task of one more novel, to be written, edited, cover, published, by June, just in time for Ximaginarium. I can do that.

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Regent

Now loose in the wild.

“With Canada now on the Ohio River, the imperium needs allies.

Aurelia, the 25-year-old niece of the Empress, leads an army through the deserted ruins of the northeast US to establish contact with the Northern Federation.

An illegal side trip has her talk politics with the Archbishop of Montreal followed by a jaunt to see the tiny spaceport of Canso, Nova Scotia. There, she falls in love with a rocketry tech before being forced to defend it and him against thirty pirates, who she kills with rifle, pistol, knife, hands, teeth.

With the Empress called first to Japan and later to Mars, Aurelia hurries home to act as Regent in her place. But that leaves her lover arrested and the imperium teetering on the brink of a war it cannot afford.”

Paperback. Kindle.

Smashwords ebooks to follow once I get my blood pressure down for using their shit interface.

Deus vult!

Colour | Epilogue

And that’s a wrap. 67,800 words of “Regent.” For those of you reading along from the beginning, congratulations. Anyone who has commented here or sent me a note, I appreciate your input and it all goes to make the story better.

I’ll be doing some editing and formatting for a day or two before dropping this load onto my copyeditor. At the same time, I’ll see if my cover designer has not frozen to death in central Germany to prod her into action. With chance and luck, I can have this commercially available by the end of January.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

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Colour Strange Charm

Merry Christmas Eve. Level 3 storm warning here. My pharmacist at DayJob is literally dialing it in: logging onto EPIC from home. It’s too cold for the salt to work so the roads are a mess. Told me to stay home.

I think I can finish this MS today. That would have symmetry for me. It was Xmas Eve, eight years ago, just before midnight when I clicked “Publish” and changed my world.

And no, I don’t know what she is, either. Kalí first makes her appearance in “A Texas Naval Affair,” where another young man was trying to woo someone from the imperial family. Love will make a man do strange things.

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Colour’s Nephew, Again

Sometimes I reference other books. Sometimes, such as here, I call back to what I wrote a few chapters before. Sometimes it is completely off-the-wall; I mean, seriously: did NO ONE get the “Broadsword to Danny Boy” reference? I worry about y’all sometimes.

This segment accomplishes two things: we now have the beginnings of a diplomatic buffer between the imperium and Canada. They are small but I do not think either power wants to rile up the Northern Federation. Second, Robert puts Jimmy on notice: just what the effing hell do you think you are to Aurie now? What will you be in a month? A year? We know from waaaay back at the start of this story that Aurie’s had a couple of guys prior. No matter what she may think of Jimmy at this moment, he needs to step up.

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Champlain Colours

This is a little “exposition-y,” but a reader will need to know a bit more about Robert and his relations. I suspect that, being a “normie,” Robert takes things a bit more seriously than his gifted brothers and sisters. And as a brand-new imperial family who are, as Aurie admitted, “making things up as they go,” and in a hard neighborhood, it would take a certain hardness of mind and spirit to stay sane and effective.

Having written the next, Ticonderoga, scene last night, I realized this morning I’m going to have to re-write it. Things such as that come with the job. Much easier on a laptop than with pen on paper, though.

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