Here's another short scene from my latest novel, Galaxy Rand. This is taken from a chapter titled The Black Hole ( a bar, not an actual black hole. That would be rather disasterous! ):
I'd left the bot outside the bar to stand guard. He was hiding in the shadows of the narrow alley running between The Black Hole and the equally-sleazy joint next door. I whistled low, once, as a signal, and the bot came to join me. Gas orbs hovering over the deserted street offered a few splotches of dim light. The bot's black-armored body gleamed like polished glass.
"Did you acquire any pertinent information, Rand?" he asked.
"Not a whole helluva lot," I had to admit. "Confirmed some current rumors, though. Seems an old friend of mine's back in this sector, and I'll give you hundred to one odds he's behind the latest Remoxa jackings."
"Could the individual in question be responsible for the recent attempts on your life as well?"
I shook my head. "Don't see how the bloody hell that's possible, Tin Man. Torrance can't have enough credits to hire that many hitmen. If he jacks one or two more shipments like the last one, he'll be more'n ready to take me out, no doubt about that. But it's beginning to look as if somebody's beat him to the punch."
"Then where does that leave us?"
"Us? Again with the us!" For some unknown reason, that two-letter word raised my hackles to full-staff.
"Now you look here, pal! There is no us! You have absolutely nothing at stake. Got that? Not a fleggin soul in the whole bloody Cosmos gives a fast-flying damn what happens to you. Hell, you're nothing but a bot: just a walking, talking, human-aping collection of nuts and bolts, servos and nano-circuits--nothing more!"
In his most annoying, most uppity tone, Blackie snapped, "Thank you for reminding me of the cold, hard facts, madam. I had almost succeeded in forgetting my present state of being."
@copyright 2014
Well, that's enough for now. More later. Hope you enjoy.
Keep on writing and keep on reading,
MRTighe
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Another Readercon Has Come and Gone
I was actually a little bit worried about attending Readercon 25. We've been to quite a few now, but last year's was rather disconcerting. The hotel, the Burlington Marriott, was undergoing major renovations during the con; our favorite pub had been closed, so food was an issue; check in was being held in a tiny side room, not the main lobby. Things were topsy-turvy and not terribly comfortable or convenient.
But we managed to survive and have a good time in spite of everything. However, to tell the truth I wasn't looking forward to this year's convention as much as usual.
Fortunately, conditions were much improved. The lobby was back in business and looking good. There is now a Great Room where the pub used to be, providing space where one can sit, talk, and relax as well as enjoy food and drink. It's complete with an ultra-modern fireplace and candle-lit shelves.
But our room was on the first floor and appeared not to have been remodeled at all. We missed having a fridge, and there was a strong smell of pool chemicals due to our proximity to the pool area.
We had Sunday brunch at the new restaurant ( Chopps ) that replaced SummerWinter. I found the food of better quality than previous years.
The Book Dealers' Room was full and well attended. Hubby and I bought more books to add to our ever-growing TBR pile, as well as making a sidetrip to Barnes and Noble. So Readercon is alive and kicking. We have no hesitation about attending next year's. In fact, we're already looking forward to it.
Whether or not you attend conventions, remember to keep on reading, and keep on writing!
MRTighe
But we managed to survive and have a good time in spite of everything. However, to tell the truth I wasn't looking forward to this year's convention as much as usual.
Fortunately, conditions were much improved. The lobby was back in business and looking good. There is now a Great Room where the pub used to be, providing space where one can sit, talk, and relax as well as enjoy food and drink. It's complete with an ultra-modern fireplace and candle-lit shelves.
But our room was on the first floor and appeared not to have been remodeled at all. We missed having a fridge, and there was a strong smell of pool chemicals due to our proximity to the pool area.
We had Sunday brunch at the new restaurant ( Chopps ) that replaced SummerWinter. I found the food of better quality than previous years.
The Book Dealers' Room was full and well attended. Hubby and I bought more books to add to our ever-growing TBR pile, as well as making a sidetrip to Barnes and Noble. So Readercon is alive and kicking. We have no hesitation about attending next year's. In fact, we're already looking forward to it.
Whether or not you attend conventions, remember to keep on reading, and keep on writing!
MRTighe
Saturday, June 14, 2014
Another Scene From Galaxy Rand
Here's another post taken from my most recent novel and first space opera, Galaxy Rand:
I gave the damned-cocky bot a scornful snort and decided, just for the hell of it, to challenge him. "Since you think you're so bloody clever, go ahead. Try and guess what I do!"
I sat back with my arms folded across my chest and waited to be entertained at his expense.
At first Blackie didn't say a damn thing, then he started ticking off clues faster than a fleggin computer could kick out a stream of data!
"You work alone. You are accustomed to finding yourself in dangerous situations. You own this fast-ship and, therefore, must have--or have had at one time--a fair amount of credits at your disposal. You are highly skilled in the use of weapons, as well as in hand-to-hand combat. You often find yourself at odds with the ISF. You have an extraordinary number of enemies of low class and low morals, including many of the criminal element."
Without pausing so much as a fraction of a microsecond, he kept rattling off facts: "You travel frequently and at a moment's notice, and are--at least on occasion--pursued. And as I have observed, your ship is equipped with a tractor-arm, which is definitely not standard equipment. Therefore, I venture to say that you, Rand, are in all likelihood a recoup agent."
My lower jaw dropped so damned fast it almost bounced off Jammer's deck. Soon as I could get a word out, I demanded, "How in bloody hell did you guess?"
"My astute deduction, rather, was a simple process of logical reasoning, based upon our recent experiences and conversations. This information, combined with the deplorable appearance of your vessel as compared with its remarkable speed and accouterments, as well as all available data regarding human occupations in this sector of the galaxy, led me to one inescapable conclusion."
Instead of admitting I now had a grudging respect for the bot's reasoning abilities, I stubbornly shook my head. "Huh! Just a lucky guess, I'd say."
"Not at all, madam. In fact, I do not believe in the existence of luck."
I bristled. "Thought I told you to ditch that madam crap!"
"Very well, if that form of address offends you--although I hardly see why---"
I leaned in close to the bot. To get my point across, I poked my right index finger into his metal chest--hard! Note to self: don't pull that dumb-ass stunt again; it hurt like hell!
Hope you enjoyed reading this. You can see more on www.amazon.com. Questions and comments are always welcome!
Keep reading and keep on writing,
MRTighe
I gave the damned-cocky bot a scornful snort and decided, just for the hell of it, to challenge him. "Since you think you're so bloody clever, go ahead. Try and guess what I do!"
I sat back with my arms folded across my chest and waited to be entertained at his expense.
At first Blackie didn't say a damn thing, then he started ticking off clues faster than a fleggin computer could kick out a stream of data!
"You work alone. You are accustomed to finding yourself in dangerous situations. You own this fast-ship and, therefore, must have--or have had at one time--a fair amount of credits at your disposal. You are highly skilled in the use of weapons, as well as in hand-to-hand combat. You often find yourself at odds with the ISF. You have an extraordinary number of enemies of low class and low morals, including many of the criminal element."
Without pausing so much as a fraction of a microsecond, he kept rattling off facts: "You travel frequently and at a moment's notice, and are--at least on occasion--pursued. And as I have observed, your ship is equipped with a tractor-arm, which is definitely not standard equipment. Therefore, I venture to say that you, Rand, are in all likelihood a recoup agent."
My lower jaw dropped so damned fast it almost bounced off Jammer's deck. Soon as I could get a word out, I demanded, "How in bloody hell did you guess?"
"My astute deduction, rather, was a simple process of logical reasoning, based upon our recent experiences and conversations. This information, combined with the deplorable appearance of your vessel as compared with its remarkable speed and accouterments, as well as all available data regarding human occupations in this sector of the galaxy, led me to one inescapable conclusion."
Instead of admitting I now had a grudging respect for the bot's reasoning abilities, I stubbornly shook my head. "Huh! Just a lucky guess, I'd say."
"Not at all, madam. In fact, I do not believe in the existence of luck."
I bristled. "Thought I told you to ditch that madam crap!"
"Very well, if that form of address offends you--although I hardly see why---"
I leaned in close to the bot. To get my point across, I poked my right index finger into his metal chest--hard! Note to self: don't pull that dumb-ass stunt again; it hurt like hell!
Hope you enjoyed reading this. You can see more on www.amazon.com. Questions and comments are always welcome!
Keep reading and keep on writing,
MRTighe
Saturday, May 17, 2014
From Galaxy Rand
Here's another short scene from my latest novel and first space opera Galaxy Rand:
To be honest, I didn't wanna talk about Esperance any more'n the bot wanted to talk about his master's murder. But by this time I knew Blackie well enough to realize he'd never let the subject lie. He'd keep chipping away at me 'til I gave in.
I took one deep breath before answering, "Because that's where Torrance's most likely to hole up--the one place he'd hide if things are too hot for him."
"And exactly how did you come by this remarkable piece of information, Rand? Did your snitch tell you this?"
"Naw! Just another one of my hunches, and I believe in playing my hunches."
The sound Blackie made came damned close to a human snort. "A hunch? What remarkable detective work! Hunch indeed!"
With a helluva lot of effort, I managed to ignore him, but I couldn't ignore the funny feeling gnawing at my gut. "How much d'you know about Esperance, Tin Man?" I asked, as casually as I could, testing him.
The bot cocked his shiny black dome to one side, for all the Cosmos like a human trying to recall some half-forgotten info. "Again, if memory serves, Rand, Esperance is a small barren planet orbiting Milo's Sun. Once rich in metal ores, the planet was heavily mined in the past--and of course, it was the site of the infamous Esperance Massacre."
That all too familiar term struck a raw nerve. My jaw clenched; so did both my fists. Had to take a couple real deep breaths, trying my damnedest to relax. "That's why Esperance's also known as the Death Planet," I muttered. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded grim as death.
"And that is where we are presently headed?"
"You got it, Tin Man."
"Marvelous indeed! I cannot imagine there is much demand for conducted tours of Esperance."
copyright@2014
Well, that's it for now. I'm presently hard at work on my next novel--a prequel to my Tartarus Trilogy.
Hopefully, it will be ready for publication by the end of the year.
Until then, keep on writing; keep on reading!
MRTighe
To be honest, I didn't wanna talk about Esperance any more'n the bot wanted to talk about his master's murder. But by this time I knew Blackie well enough to realize he'd never let the subject lie. He'd keep chipping away at me 'til I gave in.
I took one deep breath before answering, "Because that's where Torrance's most likely to hole up--the one place he'd hide if things are too hot for him."
"And exactly how did you come by this remarkable piece of information, Rand? Did your snitch tell you this?"
"Naw! Just another one of my hunches, and I believe in playing my hunches."
The sound Blackie made came damned close to a human snort. "A hunch? What remarkable detective work! Hunch indeed!"
With a helluva lot of effort, I managed to ignore him, but I couldn't ignore the funny feeling gnawing at my gut. "How much d'you know about Esperance, Tin Man?" I asked, as casually as I could, testing him.
The bot cocked his shiny black dome to one side, for all the Cosmos like a human trying to recall some half-forgotten info. "Again, if memory serves, Rand, Esperance is a small barren planet orbiting Milo's Sun. Once rich in metal ores, the planet was heavily mined in the past--and of course, it was the site of the infamous Esperance Massacre."
That all too familiar term struck a raw nerve. My jaw clenched; so did both my fists. Had to take a couple real deep breaths, trying my damnedest to relax. "That's why Esperance's also known as the Death Planet," I muttered. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded grim as death.
"And that is where we are presently headed?"
"You got it, Tin Man."
"Marvelous indeed! I cannot imagine there is much demand for conducted tours of Esperance."
copyright@2014
Well, that's it for now. I'm presently hard at work on my next novel--a prequel to my Tartarus Trilogy.
Hopefully, it will be ready for publication by the end of the year.
Until then, keep on writing; keep on reading!
MRTighe
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Another Bit from Galaxy Rand
Here's another of my favorite scenes from my new space opera Galaxy Rand:
"Rand, have you considered that your past might very well provide the motive behind the recent attempts upon your life?"
"I don't follow you, Tin Man. You saying some bastard wants me dead because my past isn't exactly flawless?" I had to shake my head. The whole idea was fleggin crazy! "Naw, I can't buy that load of bilge."
"Do not dismiss my theory quite so hastily, Rand. Let us hypothesize that someone from your past does indeed intend to kill you or to have you killed. The motive would most likely be one of two: either fear or hatred, or perhaps a combination of the two."
I got a real chuckle outta that one. "Lots of people in this solar system hate my bloody guts, Tin Man! But fear? Hell, nobody's afraid of me--'cept the jackers and smugglers operating in this sector. I do my job. I recoup, period! Otherwise, I make it a firm policy never to stick my nose into other people's business, whether it's legal or illegal. Too damned dangerous!"
"But as a recoup agent, you are paid to recover hijacked goods, are you not!" Blackie demanded, as if he thought I needed reminding about my own profession.
"Yeah, and I'm damned good at it, pal."
"Have you recovered any stolen property of late?"
My pride was stung; felt my face go flame-red, so I turned away from the bot's nosey stare. "Uh, well, I have to admit the job's been a helluva lot tougher than usual lately. Besides, I never claimed I recouped one hundred percent," I grumbled.
"As rumors would have it, Rand, the ISF suspects that a criminal mastermind is responsible for the most recent hijackings plaguing this sector of the galaxy. You would not be at all familiar with the subject of these rumors, now would you?"
I growled, "Wouldn't give you two damn credits for any unsubstantiated rumors, pal"
The bot pounced. "A six-syllable word! Absolutely astounding! That must be a new verbal record for you, Rand!"
I glared daggers at him, not appreciating the snarky remark one damn bit. "Look here, you smart-ass--!" I started to snarl, then checked myself. "Why in the name of Unholy Hell am I sitting here arguing with a fleggin piece of machinery? Especially one that thinks it's God's greatest gift to the whole damn Universe!"
copyright@2014
That's it for now, folks. Hope you enjoyed reading.
Keep reading and keep on writing!
MRTighe
"Rand, have you considered that your past might very well provide the motive behind the recent attempts upon your life?"
"I don't follow you, Tin Man. You saying some bastard wants me dead because my past isn't exactly flawless?" I had to shake my head. The whole idea was fleggin crazy! "Naw, I can't buy that load of bilge."
"Do not dismiss my theory quite so hastily, Rand. Let us hypothesize that someone from your past does indeed intend to kill you or to have you killed. The motive would most likely be one of two: either fear or hatred, or perhaps a combination of the two."
I got a real chuckle outta that one. "Lots of people in this solar system hate my bloody guts, Tin Man! But fear? Hell, nobody's afraid of me--'cept the jackers and smugglers operating in this sector. I do my job. I recoup, period! Otherwise, I make it a firm policy never to stick my nose into other people's business, whether it's legal or illegal. Too damned dangerous!"
"But as a recoup agent, you are paid to recover hijacked goods, are you not!" Blackie demanded, as if he thought I needed reminding about my own profession.
"Yeah, and I'm damned good at it, pal."
"Have you recovered any stolen property of late?"
My pride was stung; felt my face go flame-red, so I turned away from the bot's nosey stare. "Uh, well, I have to admit the job's been a helluva lot tougher than usual lately. Besides, I never claimed I recouped one hundred percent," I grumbled.
"As rumors would have it, Rand, the ISF suspects that a criminal mastermind is responsible for the most recent hijackings plaguing this sector of the galaxy. You would not be at all familiar with the subject of these rumors, now would you?"
I growled, "Wouldn't give you two damn credits for any unsubstantiated rumors, pal"
The bot pounced. "A six-syllable word! Absolutely astounding! That must be a new verbal record for you, Rand!"
I glared daggers at him, not appreciating the snarky remark one damn bit. "Look here, you smart-ass--!" I started to snarl, then checked myself. "Why in the name of Unholy Hell am I sitting here arguing with a fleggin piece of machinery? Especially one that thinks it's God's greatest gift to the whole damn Universe!"
copyright@2014
That's it for now, folks. Hope you enjoyed reading.
Keep reading and keep on writing!
MRTighe
Saturday, March 22, 2014
A Scene From Judgment on Tartarus
So here's a bit of Chapter 6: "A Fist to the Jaw"---literally!
Rona Scott's next encounter with the infuriating Tartarian proved even more puzzling than the last.
After her daily workout, she left the rec-deck and went down to her quarters to change for fourth-watch Bridge duty. She doffed her sweat-soaked exercise outfit, showered, and dressed in a fresh blue jumpsuit.
Bound for the Bridge, Rona started down the length of Deck Five's Alpha Corridor, headed for the forward lift-complex. Ahead, she heard angry voices. The words were indistinguishable, but she recognized the Tartarian's voice--deep, precise, and obviously furious. A barked laugh answered him.
Rona came within clear sight of the lift-complex just in time to witness a scene she never would've believed possible.
Standing in the middle of Beta Corridor, port, Malkis faced a belligerant Lieutenant Klasner. Rona instantly recognized the big man from the recent Commissary incident. Upon seeing Rona Scott approaching, without warning the Exec drew back his right arm and drove a knotted fist straight into Klasner's jaw. His fist connected with an audible crack, slamming the burly crewman against the bulkhead behind him. Klasner slid to the deck, unconscious.
Malkis calmly flexed his pale, blue-veined hand, pivoted on his heel, and approached Rona, who stood rooted to the spot in horror. His pale-gray eyes impaled her with such frightening intensity that she let out a gasp.
"Ensign Scott, did you overhear any of that conversation?" he demanded in an urgent tone.
Rona shook her head before finding her voice and replying weakly, "No--no, Sir--not at all!"
"You are quite certain?"
"Yes, Sir--I'm certain. Not a single word."
@copyright 2011
A mystifying incident, a serious breach of regs, with an intriguing explanation! For more, go to amazon.com and see the "Look Inside" feature.I think you'll enjoy reading more; at least I hope you do.
Keep on writing, and keep on reading!
MRTighe
Rona Scott's next encounter with the infuriating Tartarian proved even more puzzling than the last.
After her daily workout, she left the rec-deck and went down to her quarters to change for fourth-watch Bridge duty. She doffed her sweat-soaked exercise outfit, showered, and dressed in a fresh blue jumpsuit.
Bound for the Bridge, Rona started down the length of Deck Five's Alpha Corridor, headed for the forward lift-complex. Ahead, she heard angry voices. The words were indistinguishable, but she recognized the Tartarian's voice--deep, precise, and obviously furious. A barked laugh answered him.
Rona came within clear sight of the lift-complex just in time to witness a scene she never would've believed possible.
Standing in the middle of Beta Corridor, port, Malkis faced a belligerant Lieutenant Klasner. Rona instantly recognized the big man from the recent Commissary incident. Upon seeing Rona Scott approaching, without warning the Exec drew back his right arm and drove a knotted fist straight into Klasner's jaw. His fist connected with an audible crack, slamming the burly crewman against the bulkhead behind him. Klasner slid to the deck, unconscious.
Malkis calmly flexed his pale, blue-veined hand, pivoted on his heel, and approached Rona, who stood rooted to the spot in horror. His pale-gray eyes impaled her with such frightening intensity that she let out a gasp.
"Ensign Scott, did you overhear any of that conversation?" he demanded in an urgent tone.
Rona shook her head before finding her voice and replying weakly, "No--no, Sir--not at all!"
"You are quite certain?"
"Yes, Sir--I'm certain. Not a single word."
@copyright 2011
A mystifying incident, a serious breach of regs, with an intriguing explanation! For more, go to amazon.com and see the "Look Inside" feature.I think you'll enjoy reading more; at least I hope you do.
Keep on writing, and keep on reading!
MRTighe
Thursday, March 13, 2014
Another Little Peek at Galaxy Rand
Here's a bit of a scene from my space opera Galaxy Rand. I have a soft spot for Galaxy, even though she's "one tough fem":
I raised my glass in a polite salute to my snitch, then leaned across the table toward her and muttered, "J'neen, some bastard's trying his damnedest to kill me!"
Her delicate, dark eyebrows made sharp arches. "Again?"
I scowled at the unwelcome reminder. "This time it's different!"
"Really? How 'different'?"
"This's nothing to do with any two-bit beef. Whoever the fleggin bastard is, he really has it out for me--two tries within a planet-hour! What's worse, I've got no idea in the Cosmos who the hell's behind these damn attacks."
"That does present you with a bit of a problem, Galaxy."
I got impatient and prodded, "Dammit, J'neen! Have you heard anything?"
She gave one quick shake of her dark head. "Not so much as a whisper. Sorry I can't help you, Galaxy."
"That's bad news, real bad news. Means whoever the hell's after me can afford to make damned-sure mouths stay shut. So that lets out the usual riff-raff I deal with."
J'neen's bright eyes widened. "How in hell did you manage to make an enemy that powerful? And who in blazes copuld it be?"
@copyright 2014
That's all for now. More to come later. Or if you can't wait, go to amazon.com and check out their "Look Inside" feature. I promise you a fun, easy read and a couple chuckles.
Thanks for reading!
MRTighe
I raised my glass in a polite salute to my snitch, then leaned across the table toward her and muttered, "J'neen, some bastard's trying his damnedest to kill me!"
Her delicate, dark eyebrows made sharp arches. "Again?"
I scowled at the unwelcome reminder. "This time it's different!"
"Really? How 'different'?"
"This's nothing to do with any two-bit beef. Whoever the fleggin bastard is, he really has it out for me--two tries within a planet-hour! What's worse, I've got no idea in the Cosmos who the hell's behind these damn attacks."
"That does present you with a bit of a problem, Galaxy."
I got impatient and prodded, "Dammit, J'neen! Have you heard anything?"
She gave one quick shake of her dark head. "Not so much as a whisper. Sorry I can't help you, Galaxy."
"That's bad news, real bad news. Means whoever the hell's after me can afford to make damned-sure mouths stay shut. So that lets out the usual riff-raff I deal with."
J'neen's bright eyes widened. "How in hell did you manage to make an enemy that powerful? And who in blazes copuld it be?"
@copyright 2014
That's all for now. More to come later. Or if you can't wait, go to amazon.com and check out their "Look Inside" feature. I promise you a fun, easy read and a couple chuckles.
Thanks for reading!
MRTighe
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)