Welcome Christmas Lites V!

For a couple of years now, I've been lucky enough to be an annual contributor to the fabulous Christmas Lites charity anthologies and I'm happy to say that I'm participating again this year.
And now the book is here!

So with no further ado, I present...

Christmas Lites V

Tis the season to celebrate, to love, to dream, to hope. Unfortunately, many people have lost almost everything they have – including hope in this most festive and beautiful of times. Across the globe, authors, illustrators, and artists of all sorts have come together in the anthology you now hold in your hands with one goal in mind. To give hope. To spread love. To give people a chance to dream again.

Christmas Lites V is a special anthology. Every dime raised goes directly to the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV). Not a single person who worked on this book or donated their time and their art form to it receives anything from it, other than the knowledge that he/she is making a difference in those affected by domestic violence.

Inside these pages are stories of all genres—Romance, fantasy, horror, action, children’s stories, stories written BY children. Please, dive inside, read, laugh, and spread the love and joy.

The book is available at:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Amazon Canada

Createspace

Stories and authors included in this anthology are:

A Tale of Two Urchins by A. F. Stewart

Accidentally Courted by Tricia Kristufek 

Undead Christmas by D.T. Dyllin 

Christmas in July by William Gent 

Riley’s Christmas by Ottilie Weber 

Mini-Folder by S.L. Garrett 

Santa’s Unexpected Helper by JB Lynn 

A Christmas Tail by JG Faherty 

The Krampus Tree by Douglas Wynne 

Homicide by Phil Cantrill 

Love of a Lifetime by Angela Yuriko Smith 

Christmas under the Canopy by Amy Eye 

Daniel’s Gift by Monica La Porta 

Devour by Tiffany by Michelle Brown 

The Gift by J. A. Clement 

Mrs. Knight’s Honeymoon by Vered Ehsani 

Baby Jesus by Rachel Reese 

The Masquerade by Frank W. Smith 

Keeping Christmas by Alana Lorens 

The Den by S. Patrick Pothier 

Ulysses II by Dani J Caile 

A Monster Miracle by Brandon Eye 

Blinky Goes Home by Annabelle Kristufek 

A great line up, right? My story in the book, A Tale of Two Urchins, is a bit of a fanciful fairy tale about two orphans, Santa, and Krampus. I think of it as a mix of Dickens and Hansel and Gretel, tied together with a ribbon of dark humour and a touch of whimsy. (You can also find my stories in Christmas Lites III and IV and proceeds from every book in the series go to National Coalition Against Domestic Violence.)

Drabble Wednesday: Quests

Today on Drabble Wednesday we go questing with warriors, peasants and kings…

The Eye of Blood

The messenger died at the feet of his king.

King Andras tossed his bloodied dagger on top of his latest victim.

From a limp hand of the dead, the king retrieved a wooden box, the prize that cost the messenger his life. Inside lay treasure, a dream that set his kingdom to fire and ruin.

The Eye of the Gods. The Bloodstone.

Power.

The king lifted the lid. A large scarlet gemstone nestled within, resting on black velvet.

“Mine, you are mine.” He closed his fist around the stone. And screamed.

The body of the king fell beside his messenger.

~*~

Fabled Journey

Warriors never die easy.

A saying he should have remembered five days ago, and stayed home, safe in his bed. Glory, honour and fabled riches weren’t worth slogging through a swamp on a daft quest. Nor ease tired joints after being chased by a ballycoot wraith through the Forest of Shadows. And they sure as spit weren’t worth dying at the hands of a dragon.

“What are you waiting for? Slay the beast.” The frantic shout came from inside the cave, from his companions.

“No.” With a whisper, he turned around and headed home.

This warrior would die another day.

~*~ 

Be Careful What You Wish…

All Evan dreamed came true, one rainy afternoon.

The day the warriors rode into town, looking to recruit men to join their ranks. To serve the Baron. They promised camaraderie, adventure, a better life. Evan swallowed the stories whole, but it wouldn’t have mattered what they said, for they promised a life away from the pokey village he called home. Away from his dreary future as a sheep farmer.

Funny how that was, how he longed to leave. Now two years in, two long years riding hard, fighting ogres, dragons, and everything in-between, all he dreamed was to go home.

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved 

Interview With Author Julia Starling

Today I have an interview with author Julia Starling, who stops by to chat about her writing and her debut book, Against the Oaks of Bashan, a literary science fiction novel. Enjoy.

An Interview with Julia Starling

Why don’t you begin by sharing a little about yourself.

I was born and raised in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and started my adult life as a medical student there. When I met my husband Alex in Europe I moved to Cambridge, UK, and then London, where I finished my medical studies. We moved to California after five very formative years in the UK. Disappointed with the medical system in the US, I went back to school and became a psychotherapist. Right before I graduated, our home burnt down in the 2007 wildfires. It took years to reconstruct our lives. I had always written, but I started writing much more after the trauma of the total loss. We moved to the Santa Fe area in 2012 and I opened a small (but busy) private practice from my home. I kept writing whenever I could. In 2014 I was forced to take a leave of absence from work due to health reasons, and it is then that my creative life really took off. I started writing intensely every day, and painting my dreams. Against the Oaks of Bashan came from an intensive year and a half of soul searching. I have found my true passion in fiction and can’t wait to get started on the next project. 


Could you tell us a bit about your latest book?

It’s set in Buenos Aires, between the 1970’s and the 1990’s. It follows the story of two brilliant young scientists, Vera in the 70’s and Frances in the 90’s, in their struggle to find themselves, breaking free from other people’s agendas and what the world expects from them.

The narrator takes different characters’ points of view and motivations, making for a very rich exploration of psychological profiles. The whole story is infused with an Argentine flavor, and there are even some Argentine Spanish words inserted, in context, throughout the text, for added cultural enjoyment.

There is a strong social commentary that runs across the book, and a philosophical base for the science fiction elements. While rich in literary gems, it moves fast and has the quality of a thriller, keeping people frequently at the edge of their seats.


How long have you been writing, and how many books have you published to date?

I’ve been writing since I was a child, mainly personal reflections and poetry. As an adult, I wrote countless essays for med school and psychology school, and, whenever I would have time (even in the subway on my way to the hospital) I would write snippets of my perceptions and observations of the society around me. Having lived and worked in so many countries and settings, I was privileged to have lots of material to write about. When I finally had real time on my hands, on my leave of absence, I started to take writing to another level. I was surprised to find how easy the fiction genres worked for my style, and how compatible I was with this whole field. I actually wrote Against the Oaks of Bashan in less than a year, after a few months of gathering notes and structuring plot and characters. This is my first novel and I am absolutely positive that many more will come in the near future.

Why did you decide to write in the Science Fiction genre?

It came as a spontaneous process. My style is generally literary, so I set out to write a literary fiction piece. And when it came to drafting plot and characters, I found myself creating worlds that fit the sci-fi category. I am pleased with how this genre allows me to let my mind soar with no restrictions and how it is amenable to transmitting symbolic and philosophical material in a way that is engaging and moves fast.

What did you find most challenging about writing your book?

Perhaps the editing process: it was hard to go from 80,000 words to around 68,000. My literary style had to be adapted to fit the plot and overall flavor of the novel. I had to make sure that everything flowed smoothly and that the plot was not sacrificed to the literary elements. That was hard. But I think I succeeded in making an easy-read that also has substance and literary merit.

And of course, I had to trust myself when it came to writing my first novel in English, which is not my mother tongue. I think the second-guessing was harder than the reality of the finished work. I prefer to write in English because I have been thinking, speaking and writing in English since I was 21.


Did anything surprise you about the process of writing your book?

Yes, the action scenes: I had no idea I would be writing involved action and exciting car chases. It was really fun.


When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

I think I was always a writer. I wrote on my free time every since I can remember. But the decision to fully dedicate to writing and make it a full time career came after I begun writing Against the Oaks of Bashan. I knew at that point that this is what I am truly meant to be doing with my time.


Can you tell us about your writing process? Where do your ideas originate? Do you have a certain writing routine?

I start with notes and observations, and character development, on my typewriter at my north-facing studio (which has direct views of a field with the Sangre de Cristo mountains in the back). This is the idea/ conceptual stage. Once I have enough material, I go to cafes (I need to get out of the house for this, for some reason) and begin plot development. Once I have the plot and general structure, I gather all my materials and start typing the novel on my computer. That is the easiest part: I tend to finish this within a few months. Then, the grueling editing process begins. That is the hardest part. But after that, I have a full manuscript ready to send to professional editing, interior design and publishing.


Do you have a favourite author, or writing inspiration?

I am a little bit unusual in that I mostly enjoy classical novels and authors. I really like Goethe, Hesse, Huxley, Nietzsche, Dante, and some Sturgeon, Sloane and Stapledon.  And many ancient religious texts, like the Bhagavad-Gita, the Upanishads, and the Dhammapada.


Are you working on another book?

Yes, I have just got started with the preliminary stages. I can’t wait to sink my teeth into it. 

Against the Oaks of Bashan

The best way to rule a populace is from behind the scenes. Let people think they control their opinions and actions, and you can lead them anywhere.

So believes Professor Litvac, who dreams of engineering the “perfect consumer,” creating a populace living a life of mediocrity, anxiety, and malleable opinions. And in the turbulent political climate of 1970s Buenos Aries, he’s got plenty of opportunity to experiment. Any young adults who disappear are assumed to be the victims of ongoing political unrest.

Trapped in one of Litvac’s torture camps are Lucas and Vera Freund. Brilliant scientists, the Freunds hold the key to Litvac’s success, but they’re not talking. With the backing of a powerful Catholic sect, Litvac puts a plan in motion that will transcend generations. He’ll have what he wants—no matter the cost.


Julia Starling is a medical doctor and psychotherapist born and raised in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

You can find Against the Oaks of Bashan on Amazon.

Drabble Wednesday: Hidden Things

In today’s Drabble Wednesday, I delve under the surface of reality, to find the secrets…

Butterfly

Such a delicate thing. Its wings fluttered on the winds, their white-tipped, crimson pattern vivid against the sunlit afternoon. It danced against the clouds, before settling on a shaded branch of an oak tree.

There it waited, its insect antennae twitching.

Golden hair, and a sunshine smile, the woman passed beneath its tree. She laughed as it landed on silky skin. For a moment, it perched, wings outstretched. She gasped in awe.

“Beautiful.”

It quivered. Minuscule fangs punctured skin, injecting poison into her bloodstream.

“Ow!” One breath, before she convulsed and died.

Such a delicate thing, such a deadly touch.

~*~

The Long Path

“Only a fool begins the long path. Only Death will end it.”

That is the saying among my people. If any remained alive they would call me a fool.

A thousand years I walked this road, past war, past famine, past all I loved. The summer rains have drenched me, the winter snows have chilled my bones.

Yet, I walked.

I was your name whispered on the wind, that shadow on the wall, the ghost in the graveyard. I have strode the path between worlds, and I am at its end.

I stand in the grove of night awaiting Death.

~*~

First Kind

I am the last of my kind. Eons ago we swarmed the skies, the earth, the seas, and fed on the giants that lived here. Then the giants died, and we turned on each other. Only I survived, hibernating all these long years.

I am the last of my kind.

Or I was, until I met the human. This new breed that inherited our domain. Puny, but he served his purpose.

Now my eggs are buried deep under his decaying skin and tissues, feeding off his corpse. Soon they will hatch, and we will feast on more of his race.

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved 

Festival of Drabbles: Discord and Harmony

And we come to our farewell post for this wondrous Festival of Drabbles. I shall play you out with a bit of a dark melody…

Rime and Season

The frost wind swirled down from the mountain, and the icicles hanging from the trees chimed with its passing. It blew down the cobblestone streets, and around the corners and cracks of brick and mortar. It rattled the wooden shutters and howled down the chimneys. It churned the snow drifts and swooshed about the settled grime.

Nothing else moved in the quiet, solemn town.

Nothing else would ever move in this place again.

They occupied each house, every structure. While the wind howled, while the snow blew, the dead remained. Frozen, lifeless, forever locked in an eternal world of ice.

~*~

Desert Song

Across the sands, beyond the dunes, when the Mother of Moons rises in the night sky, you can hear their song on the sirocco winds. A velvet melody vibrating through the amber radiance, twirling in the light of the desert moon. They sing arias, of roses blooming in the paradise oasis, of the first raindrop and its petrichor echo. Their chorus shivers the firmament that binds the universe, and soothes the disquieted fires of the soul.

They serenade of all things sacred, but beware, listen too long…

…and the Night Sisters will sing you to your final place of dreams.

~*~

Just An Old Tune

The guitar sits in the corner, weather-beaten, with dust gathering across its worn down varnish and strings. It has some scratches and some blackened streaks; it has survived much. Countless hands have plucked it chords—old and young--through wars, through blistering summers, and long cold winters. It has strummed many a tune, and captured the vivacity of spirits in the melodies it harmonized.

Spirits it never let go.

Sorry souls that bled their happiness into the hungry maw of a demon instrument. And now… well that guitar, it’s waiting to be played.

By the next servant of the devil.

© A. F. Stewart 2015 All Rights Reserved

And today’s the last day to downloaded my book Passing Fancies for free on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/151594