Anselm by Florence Byham Weinberg

Florence is a friend and a fellow author at Twilight Times books. I've not read the book yet, but I have bought it because it sounds like fun. Thought you guys might be interested. 

Summary: Fearing imminent death from a heart defect, Anselm Farnese, a 53-year-old, overweight Benedictine monk, discovers a 12th-century ritual in a dusty archive. If he locates a victim who—even momentarily—wishes to be someone else, he can usurp that person’s body. But he must commit himself to the Powers of Evil. Twenty-seven-year-old, cocky Professor Eric Behrens seduces an undergraduate student. Summarily fired, he curses the world and wishes to be someone else. He trips, falls, and wakes up in Anselm’s ailing body. Each man retains his own consciousness. One gleefully usurps Eric’s parents, lover and life; the other lives a nightmare as he desperately struggles to survive.

If, as Christians believe, the soul, mind, or consciousness survives the body, then, as the philosopher René Descartes tried to prove, it is separate and distinct from the body. This fantasy novel imagines the metaphysical, psychological and real-life consequences of transplanting the self in an alien body.

Chapter excerpt:
http://twilighttimesbooks.com/Anselm_ch1.html

Buy it on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Anselm-Metamorphosis-Florence-Byham-Weinberg-ebook/dp/B00DSVDJ60 

Author Bio: A native of Alamogordo, NM, Florence Byham Weinberg traveled extensively with her military family during World War II. Travels continued after marriage to scholar-critic Kurt Weinberg in Canada, France, Spain and Germany. After earning her PhD, she taught for twenty-two years at St. John Fisher College, Rochester, NY, and ten at Trinity University, San Antonio.
http://www.florenceweinberg.com/

 

New Cover for Infinite Space, Infinite God I

Hey, my old anthology is getting a new look!  Check out the awesome new cover art for Infinite Space, Infinite God!

About ISIG:  This was Rob's and my first anthology to be published in paperback (Leaps of Faith was our first, but only in e-book.)  The cover art was commissioned, but because of some issues and a time table for the release date, our publisher used a different cover.  She always loved this one, though, so she held onto it and finally tweaked it to the awesome you see now.  (The issues were more background than the art itself.  The artist had such fun--some of the characters in the procession are the writers in the book!)

If you have never heard of ISIG, here's the synopsis.

Come explore the worlds of “Infinite Space, Infinite God.” Meet genetically engineered chimeras and aliens who wonder what a human religion holds for them. Share the doubts, trials and triumphs of humans who find their journeys in time and space are also journeys in faith.

Experience spine-tingling adventure. Marvel at technological miracles--and miracles that transcend technology--and meet the writers who made a leap of faith and dared to incorporate familiar religion with fantastic universes.

"What a great book! ...stories that are well crafted, compelling, and fun!" ~ Br. Guy Consolmagno SJ, astronomer at the Vatican Observatory and author of God's Mechanics.

It's a great idea for Christmas for the SF fan who is Catholic or is interested in exploring faith in fiction.  Check it out at .  It's available in paper or electronic.

Mini-review: H20 by Irving Belateche

 

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, a man discovers a mystery:  Where is the water going?  His search brings him in confrontation with the authorities and uncovers a conspiracy that goes beyond our planet.

About the Author:  Irving Belateche is an author, screenwriter, and Adjunct Professor at the University of Southern California's School of Cinematic Arts. He's written screenplays for Paramount Pictures, Columbia Pictures, Warner Bros., and other studios.

He's worked with producers Lawrence Bender (Pulp Fiction), Gavin Polone (Gilmore Girls, Curb Your Enthusiasm), and Joel Silver (The Matrix) as well as directors Robert Zemeckis (Back to the Future, Forrest Gump) and Roland Emmerich (Independence Day). Belateche adapted the first Hugo award winner, The Demolished Man, by Alfred Bester, for Paramount and producer Robert Evans (Chinatown, Rosemary's Baby).

Purchase it at:  www.amazon.com/H2O-Irving-Belateche/dp/0984026525/

Mini-review:  A compelling mystery, realistically told, drives this story.  The world has become small again, and this is reflected in the story-telling style:  very narrative, with lots of background brought in through personal stories.  If you don't care for this style, you might find it a bit slow.  however, I thought it a great complement to the philosophy of the post-apocalyptic world Roy lived in:  smaller, simpler, and more focused on individuals.  Definitely worth reading.

Cover Art for Mind Over Psyche

Here it is!  The cover art for Mind Over Psyche, the second book in the Mind Over Trilogy:

Thanks once again to the amazing Charles Bernard (www.onlineartacademy.com) for doing such a terrific job.  The book comes out September 15 form DragonMoon books!

Deryl isn’t crazy; he’s psychic. Desperate to escape the insane asylum, Deryl teleports to Kanaan, a world of telepaths who regard him as an oracle. But freedom comes at a price. The Kanaan expect their oracle to teach them to use their powers to wage war. Meanwhile, he’s falling in love, but to be with her means to share his psyche, which could drive her insane. Most dangerous of all, he hasn’t escaped the Call of the Master, enemy of the Kanaan, whose telepathic manipulations were why Deryl was committed in the first place. Now, the Master will forge Deryl’s powers into a weapon to kill all he loves or destroy his mind trying.

It's different from the cover of the first book int eh trilogy, Mind Over Mind.  I loved the monochrome effect in that one, but the colors do make the second one pop.  It's also more of a combination of fantasy and science fiction, which my publisher really appreciated.  (Just don't expect any spaceships; it's not that kind of science fiction.)  It does have a kind of closed in-prison feel, which I like.  Deryl has a choice--return to the prison of the Earth-bound world he's known all his life or embrace the fantastical new world with all its dangers.  BTW, if you've not read Mind Over Mind, it's not necessary to understand this book, but I would recommend it.  You can purchase it here.

Rewrite that Scene!

At the Catholic Writers' Conference Live, I only attended one workshop:  Michelle Buckman's.  She's an excellent teacher, and for this workshop, she had us analyzing and rewriting bad openings.  Here's the first one.  (Not the exact words, but close.)

The man stood in the doorway of the hospital room and looked at his wife lying in the bed.  He was upset.  They had had an argument.  Now, he couldn't apologize, and she was dying.

We discussed ways to show rather than tell where he was, how he felt, that they were married and had an argument.  I have to admit, my ideas were a little lame at the time, but the scene stuck in my head, and when I got home, a flash piece had developed.  This is in the Avenir Eclectia shared world, which you can find here.  Great stories in a fantastic, growing SF universe.

Dorran froze at the threshold to the hospital room, his feet refusing to obey his mind’s command to propel him past the sterilization field and to Bonina’s side.  Instead, he hovered, his fists clenched, his eyes roving her body, taking in the tubes and needles, straining to see some sign of motion.  In all the years they’d known each other, she’d never stopped moving.  Even asleep, she had shifted and kicked at the heavy hides on their bed.  Here, they’d cocooned her in sterile white sheets, and the only motion he saw was the rise and fall of her chest in time with the ventilator. 

Her parents had insisted on rushing her to the station, a land of metal and glass, machines and white.  So much white.  Sterile. Cold.  They’d tied her to machines that breathed for her, cleaned her blood, kept her fed, even cleansed her of the layer of dirt that inevitably worked into the skin of anyone who lived on Eclectia.  They’d preserved her life--but had anyone held her hand?

Why couldn’t he?

He held his hand before him, stained and grimed from a lifetime of mining.  He remembered the first time she’d cradled his hand between both of hers, pale and beautiful and fluttering.  Always in motion.  Now, she needed him to move, and he couldn’t.  Coward.

“Please.  I’m sorry.  I take it all back—every harsh word.  Just, please.  Move for me.”

Mini Review: Attack of the Drooling Shapeshifters by David Kaftal

Summary:  Under the guise of retro science fiction, Attack of the Drooling Shapeshifters is in fact pitch black humor dipped in vitriol. With something to offend almost everyone, it is a thinly disguised assault on liberalism, feminism, "new age" religion, freemasonry, the new world order, and one or two other festering sores on the contemporary human psyche. It also has scary monsters from outer space, hippies and good ol' boys, lesbian goddess worshippers, and a cameo appearance by Bigfoot.

Mini-Review:  I had a wonderful Saturday reading this book, often laughing out loud.  It's got cliches pulled to the extreme (which you know I like) and targets everyone from rednecks to hippies to aging scientific geniuses to lesbian amazons.  The story moved quickly, and had a somewhat happy ending.  (The heroine isn't too pleased, but to say more would be spoilers.)  I enjoyed the shapeshifting aliens, especially the one who played with his food--and paid dearly for it.  (Never antagonize a modern woman in high heels.)  If you are sensitive about someone blasting away at anything Politically Correct, then this is not for you.  Otherwise, it's well worth the read.

Buy it on Kindle:  http://www.amazon.com/Attack-Drooling-Shapeshifters-ebook/dp/B00CMP8USU

Great Weight Write-Off: This week's winner, Grace Bridges!

This weeks' winner is Grace Bridges.  Grace had a huge setback shortly after tarting the first challenge with us, when she wrecked her leg doing aerobics (or was it zumba?  Either way, it was painful!)  For many weeks while we were sweating physical training, she was sweating physical therapy.  Once her doctor declared her fit to start working out, provided she take it slowly, she started swimming and doing whatever she could.  She's not only recovered full use of her leg, but has lost over two pounds.  Congrats, Grace!

Grace has asked us to tour Avenir Eclectia, a short story collection.  Now, I have a couple of flash pieces in here, but let me tell you, when I read the book. I was blown away.  Grace accomplished the highly improbable.

Imagine setting up a world (or in this case, a solar system)--just the bare bones, a few rules, a little landscaping, some basic history, and a couple of beasts.  Then, you invite ANYONE to write in it.  Flash stories.  Snippets.  Scenes hither and yon.  Maybe relating to each other; maybe not.  Meanwhile, other than checking for obvious contradictions, you just sit back and watch the world evolve.

And then, when things are looking pretty good, you select some of the stories--by dozens of authors involving a multitude of characters, locations, and events--and string them into a coherent novelesque story collection.

Ladies and gentlemen, Avenir Eclectia:

Avenir Eclectia: The colony the universe forgot. This novel-length anthology contains 138 microfiction stories by 18 authors, tales of space and planetside and the people who live there - each tale weaving into the others to create an overall tapestry image of the colony. Space station bureaucrats and rag-tag orphans, moon mining, underwater cities, telepathic sea creatures, giant bugs and extreme seasons are just the beginning. Get the paperback (254 pages) at http://amzn.to/ZO1ie7 for just $5.98 or the ebook for $2.99. Edited by Grace Bridges and Travis Perry, and published by Splashdown Books. New microfiction stories also appear twice weekly for free at www.avenireclectia.com.

 

Great Weight Write-Off Winner, Margaret Fieland

This week's winner in the Great Weight Write-Off is Margaret Fieland!  Born and raised in New York City, Margaret Fieland has been around art and music all her life.  Her poems and stories have appeared in journals such as  Turbulence Magazine, Front Range Review, and All Rights Reserved. She is one of the Poetic Muselings. Their poetry anthology, "Lifelines," was published by Inkspotter Publishing in November, 2011.  She is the author of "Relocated," published by MuseItUp Publishing, and of "Sand in the Desert." Her book,  "The Angry Little Boy," will be published by 4RV publishing in 2013. You may visit her website, http://www.margaretfieland.com. or http://poetic-muselings.net/

Margaret lost two pounds this week.  (It seemed to be a bad week for our group--many of us gained weight for some reason.)  To reward her perseverance and strength of character in avoiding the temptation of the devious bagel, we are touring her book, RELOCATED:

Blurb

When fourteen-year-old Keth's dad is transferred to planet Aleyne, he doesn't know what to expect. Certainly not to discover Dad grew up here, and studied with Ardaval, a noted Aleyni scholar. On Aleyne, Keth’s psi ability develops. However, psi is illegal in the Terran Federation. After a dangerous encounter with two Terran teenagers  conflict erupts between Keth and his father. Keth seeks sanctuary with Ardaval.  Studying with the Aleyne scholar Keth learns the truth about his own heritage. After Keth's friend's father, Mazos, is kidnapped, Keth ignores the risks and attempts to free him. Little does he realize who will pay the cost as he becomes involved with terrorists.

Excerpt

 By the time I woke the next morning the sun shone low in the sky and warm, spicy air blew through the open window. I decided not to fight over what to wear, since standing out wasn't on my to-do list. Dad and Ardaval sat in the courtyard sipping kaff. Ardaval nodded at me and turned to Dad. “You should let him wear Aleyni tunics, pants, and sandals. He’s going to be much too hot in those clothes.” He spoke Aleyni.
        Dad pushed his lips together and checked me over. “I’d rather he dressed in Terran standard trousers and shirts. I don't want him to look like an alien…” He answered in Common.
        Ardaval flushed at Dad's choice of language. “Gavin, those clothes are much too heavy for this climate. The boy will melt.”
        Too bad Dad wouldn't listen. Sweat already dripped down my back. I frowned, staring at him. “Why can’t I wear the Aleyni stuff?” Dad would never say yes, and a big piece of me was glad he'd saved me from making the choice. The Aleyni clothing appealed to me, but I wasn't ready to look weird, especially on my first day.
        Dad shook his head. “You might attract trouble, and I need to keep you safe.”           Ardaval sighed. Oh well, at least I asked.
        Dad pushed me toward the door. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”
        “We don’t?” I mumbled. Dad shook his head and followed me out the door and down to the trans stop. I would have enjoyed the bright blue sky and warm sun more, but the heavy Terran clothing left me sweating. “Dad, are Aleyni human?”
        “They’re a separate species. Or so goes the official line. Nobody in the Federation has studied Aleyni genetics, and the Aleyni themselves aren't interested.”
        "Why not?"
        "It's considered an inappropriate area for study." He glanced at me, noting the frown on my face. "Kind of like a sacrilege."
        “How come they look like us?”
        He sighed. “Many origin theories exist, but the bottom line is nobody understands.”
        I scraped my shoe in the sand collected in the street, admiring the pale pinks and blues as they appeared and disappeared. “It still doesn’t explain anything.”
        He smiled. “No, it doesn’t, but I’m afraid since it’s politically incorrect to believe humans and Aleyni are closely related species, no one wants to hunt for answers.”
        By the time we reached the trans stop, sweat dripped down my face and my shirt clung to my back. The only other people waiting, a group of Aleynis, stared at us for a moment before moving away. I flushed and wanted to say something, but Dad’s face turned cold and he moved away, too. I wondered what would have happened if we'd been speaking Aleyni.
        Back on the base we walked over to Dad’s office. A long counter of the gray synglass wrapped around one wall and part of another. File cabinets covered the third wall and a shelf for books hung over part of the counter. A comp and a printer rested on the other part of the counter. A chair with a padded seat stood in front of the comp.
        Brad walked in, took a data cube from Dad, scanned it quickly and locked it in the file cabinet. “Gavin, we'll discuss these recommendations later. You stay here and read this, and I’ll walk the boy to class.”
        He handed Dad another data cube, opened the door, and ushered me out. We walked over to the port school, which met in yet another of the gray buildings.
        The room he led me to held six kids my age or a few years older. The beige walls and thin beige carpet appeared dingy and worn. The desks and chairs, made of the same gray synglass as everything else, formed a half circle.
        I walked into the room and stopped short, unsure of what to do next. The teacher, a man Dad’s age with fair, sun-burned skin and blue eyes, wrote on a large comp at the front of the room. It linked to those of the students, like the ones back home.
        Brad took my arm and propelled me toward the teacher as he turned away from the comp. “John, this is Gavin Frey’s son, Raketh. His father is here for an indefinite stay. Try to get him integrated as quickly as possible.” Brad gazed over the room before turning to leave.
        John held out his hand and I shook it. “Nice to meet you, Raketh.”
        “Keth, please call me Keth.”
        John nodded and turned to the other kids. “Class, this is Keth, the son of Major Reynolds’ new assistant, Gavin. He’ll join us from now on.”
        “Jork,” one of the boys with brown curly hair said, but he grinned at me.
        “Welcome to the class,” piped up one of the girls. She smiled at me. I blushed. I found her kind of pretty, actually. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smirked at a boy with fair skin and straight blond hair who looked the same age. The kid glared at me instead of at her.
        John tapped the desk with the stylus he’d been using to write on the comp. “Enough. Keth, you can take a seat.” He pointed and I sat.
        John made them go around the room and introduce themselves. The kid next to me with the curly brown hair answered to Martin, and the girl with the red hair said her name was Henrietta. The blond boy was Tom.
        John said, “We’re going over some Aleyni vocabulary. I can help you later on. For now, try to follow along.”
        “I honor the request, and bend myself to your will,” I said in Aleyni. Clearly nobody bothered to tell him I already spoke the language.
  Martin poked me. “What did you say?”
   “I said yes.”
  “How come you speak Aleyni? You just got here.”
  I shrugged. Just another thing to make me a freaker. “My dad made me learn it.”
        Martin stared at me for a moment. “It’s weird.”
        "We used to have Aleyni exchange students hanging out at our apartment back on Earth. I guess he wanted to make them feel comfortable or something." Like I believed  that. I never told anyone back home about speaking Aleyni, not even Mark, my best friend.
        John clapped his hands “Since you already understand the language and don’t need to pay attention to the lesson, why don't you and Henrietta move to the corner there,” he pointed across the room, “and go over this vocabulary.” He stared at me for a moment and handed me a data cube. “Come get me if you get stuck.”
        Red crept up my neck. Maybe I should have resisted the urge to show off my Aleyni. After dragging my chair over to the corner, we both sat. “Go on, ask me to translate any of those words from Common into Aleyni. You can correct my pronunciation. John says it’s bad enough so no Aleyni would ever understand me.”
        I managed to pay attention even though I needed to pry my eyes away from Henrietta's chest. Every time my eyes strayed she'd grin and toss her hair. Luckily, Tom sat with his back to us.
        After the language lesson came a history lesson. The history lesson covered the first encounters between the Terran Federation and the Aleyni. John projected a star map on the comp at the front of the room and pointed to a spot. "This is where we first met the Aleyni. As you can see, it's within a light-year of our home solar system."
        I asked, “How long ago did we first meet the Aleyni?” Yeah, I should have remembered.
        John said, “A hundred years ago, although according to the Aleyni they have been watching us for at least five thousand of our years.”
        Martin mumbled, “Like we believe them.”
        I would have asked more questions, but the buzzer went off for break, and we trooped down the hall to the cafeteria. A counter at one end dispensed the food and more of the gray tables and chairs covered the floor. The food choices consisted of soups of dried beans and vegetables and hand meals made with soy protein. I grimaced and selected some soup and one of the hand meals.
        Martin poked me. "If you want any meat, you have to buy it on the black market. Vegetables and fruit, too, but Major Reynolds looks the other way on those."
        John led us to a round table. I ended up next to Martin again. Henrietta sat on my other side. The blond kid, Tom, sat opposite me. He glared at me.
        Henrietta smiled at me. “You helped me a lot this morning. Maybe you can come over to my house and go over my homework some time.”
        Fat chance. I’ll bet if I ever went over there, Tom would kill me. He continued to glare at me. I choked on my bite of hand meal, and Martin needed to pound me on the back.

Buy links for "Relocated":

Publisher's website:

http://museituppublishing.com/bookstore2/index.php?page=shop.product_details&flypage=flypage.tpl&product_id=345&category_id=69&keyword=Relocated&option=com_virtuemart&Itemid=1&vmcchk=1&Itemid=1

Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Relocated-ebook/dp/B008OHOVVU/ref=pd_rhf_dp_p_img_1

Barnes and Noble:
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/relocated-margaret-fieland/1113050330?ean=2940044844452

Smashwords:
http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/221941

Bookstrand:
http://www.bookstrand.com/relocated