Another Book Finished!

I just finished Unlikely Prophet, the prequel to Sword’s Edge!




Quotes, Easter Eggs, and Inside Jokes

 One of my favorite moments is finding a quote from one of my favorite shows tucked in as a passing comment in an article or post. I tend to laugh out loud (especially the most obscure ones because I feel good when I recognize them), then get sad because there’s no one to appreciate it with me.

 Today, while scrolling through FB (when I was supposed to writing), I saw quotes from Star Trek, Babylon 5, and Firefly. Oh, and Doctor Who. Of course, considering many of my friends are science fiction fans, as are many of the groups I belong to, I guess it’s just not that unusual. But still, it makes me happy. The ones I saw today aren’t that obscure:
“The special hell.”
“Not the One.”
“Don’t blink.”
“It’s green.”

 I also love it when someone says something innocuous but I can relate it to a fandom or some inside joke, then I hide my smile or try not to giggle because even if I explain it, they won’t find it funny.
You have to be a Babylon 5 fan to appreciate what’s funny about the “Hokey Pokey.”
To find humor in being given a restaurant pager, you would need to be a fan of the The Guild. (Fun fact: my family won’t let me hold one anymore – just because when it finally goes off I yell, “Floyd needs me!” Sheesh. Party poopers.)
Only an Alien Nation fan would understand why one might call an abusive boss “Kleezantsun.
I used to think all SF fans would know “grok,” but it seems only the older crowd do these days. Sad, that.
Of course, some shows or movies appeal to more than just the SF/F crowd; I find very few people who don’t know the source of “No Capes!”

 I don’t think I’m alone in enjoying these little inside jokes. As a matter of fact, I also tend to tuck Easter eggs or nods to some of my favorite shows or books in my writing. But I don’t know who among my readers get any of them. And that also makes me wonder, do any of my fellow writers tuck little gems in their stories? Please, do tell!



Digging in the Dirt

Although unable to do much anymore due to arthritis, I love gardening. Quite a bit of my muse used to happen when on my knees planting, weeding, deadheading: story arcs, character reveals, not to mention my protagonist Tam’s love of gardening is directly mine.

My gardens and flower beds are vastly reduced these days, but I still love to look out and see the spirea, miscanthus, joe pye weed, sedum spectabile, liriope, ajuga, plus I still have rosemary, thyme, comfrey, chives, lemon balm, chocolate mint, and more. I can’t keep up with the weeding anymore, but I do what I can. And I’m never happier than when outside among my plants.

This photo was taken earlier this year.I had overdone it trying to weed, but I think it looks fairly nice.

garden at the back fence


Not Good

(before the events of Sword’s Edge)

Marcalan laughed as he strode next to Haladhon, his cousin and a chief of their clan. Beneath the jesting and storytelling, Marcalan kept alert, as did his cousin, hoping to cross the ring of roadway bandits plaguing this area. Dressed not as Rangers but in commoner attire, they appeared as a couple of ordinary wayfarers.

His eyes scanned the woods along the edge of the road. “So, did you make scarce before the innkeeper could pitch you out on your ear?”

“Me? Tossed out of a pub? Cousin!” Haladhon looked properly indignant. “She did chase me with a broom, but I managed to fend her off with a wink and a kiss.”

“Stars, cousin, how do you always escape unscathed?”

Haladhon’s eyes twinkled. “Need you ask?”

Marcalan shook his head with a sigh—a tingle of something awry halted him, and he threw an arm out in front of Haladhon. Six men armed with swords leaped from the bushes. The two Rangers drew their own blades as the men ran toward them.

“Oh, this is not good,” Marcalan muttered.

“What gave you that notion, Mar?” Haladhon asked.

Marcalan parried one man’s attack, sidestepped the second’s, swung his blade through to go back to the first, then answered, “It was just a thought.” He kicked at the third man attacking him, and although his aim was off, hitting the man’s arm instead of his gut, it did well as the man dropped his sword to grab the arm, yelling in pain.

He backstepped the first man, and said to Haladhon, “I could be wrong, however.” He came in with a downward diagonal attack successfully, cutting the man’s sword arm deeply, then turned to the second man as he heard Haladhon reply, “You often are.”

“You think so?” Marcalan sidestepped, striking his opponent across the shoulder. The man fell with a cry, and he turned to face the third man who had retrieved his sword. Marcalan’s quick lunge unbalanced the man, and Marcalan disarmed him easily. He held his sword to the man’s throat as he watched Haladhon finish his last opponent.

As the man fell, Haladhon turned, lowering his sword. “Aye. See you what I mean? Six men down, and our mission to find the men who had been robbing travelers is over that quickly. Now how is that not good?”

“I stand corrected.” Marcalan inclined his head in lieu of a bow, never taking his sword away from his man’s throat.

“However…” Haladhon looked around thoughtfully for a few moments. “I do see a problem.”


“We have to escort these men, some of them wounded, almost a full day’s journey before handing them over.”

Marcalan groaned. “See, I told you it was not good.”