New Book Review for Wolf’s Bane

WolfsBane_Cover_2015_smashwords (1)Yes, yes, it has been a while (er, ages) since I’ve posted. It’s possible I might get back to posting more regularly, but for now, I wanted to post this review of Wolf’s Bane because, well, I’m darn proud. 🙂

Here’s the link Enjoy!

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The Purple Morrow and Wolf’s Bane are free this week!

I recently decided to drop Smashwords in order to try out the Kindle Unlimited service. Two interesting features of this program are that I can offer price reductions on the books, or give them away free.

Yeah, that’s right.

So, for the week of October 12-16, both of my books, The Purple Morrow and Wolf’s Bane, are free!

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If you have your copies, you can still help me out by sharing my posts! Every bit helps 🙂

Enjoy!

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Big Boy Burgundy: Man on the Run is here

Finally, Burgundy is getting some action!

A while back, I posted a first installment of a story experiment called Big Boy Burgundy. It was a lot of fun, as I hadn’t written anything in that spy-action genre before.

Gate

Recently, Breakwater Harbor Books compiled an anthology called Gateways which featured works by their authors; shorts that were a gateway to the worlds of their creations. So, I submitted part three of the Burgundy serial called Blind Alley. You can read an excerpt here, or buy the anthology for a dollar here. Oh, and thanks to my sister, Amy Hands, for the banging cover. Whoot!

Cover by Amy Hands

Cover by Amy Hands

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Light at the End of the Tunnel

light

Well, it’s done. The last scene needed to complete the manuscript for book three of my Papilion Trilogy, Berserker, is done. All that’s left to do it to blend the snippets into the main story, to diligently consider the beta readers’ feedback I received (some of which is still on the way), and then hit the last rounds of editing.

I won’t lie. I felt like giving up. This has been the toughest year in writing yet, and there were more than a few periods when I felt like walking away. It’s tough to be a writer, tougher when resources are financially out of reach, when human resources are scarce (reviewers, beta readers), and when Life keeps getting in the way. Discouragement and lack of motivation were constant enemies; we wrestled a lot.

When I started The Purple Morrow four years ago or so, I had one book in mind. I purposely wrote a simple story, being that it had a complex theme : exploring self-doubt and loss and what it takes to move on, in a fantasy context. That grew to two books—Wolf’s Bane literally became the bane of my existence for 2 years, and Berserker—well, yeah. I was often two hairs shy of losing it more than once. … …Funny how the book titles see, to reflect my mental state at the time of writing…

Anyway, the end is in sight. Berserker started as a writing challenge :  write a million words in a year. I started out great—in two months I had about 50k or something. But then I hit a block and let the manuscript sit. I worked on other things while periodically going back and adding to it. But there were challenges, the main one being: How to write a satisfying trilogy ending? Some people have been faithful, reading all the books, they are invested in the characters and what’s happening to them, screaming at the end of book 2 and rabid for more–

Don’t you sometimes feel that writing the ending of a story is tough? So coming to writing the ending of a trilogy…

I was afraid of screwing it up.

Actually, I lied. I haven’t written the ending yet. But I will. I’m waiting for the editing to pull the story threads together to inspire the right ending in order to satisfy my readers. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, I guess this is a thank you to everyone who has read my books, who has motivated and encouraged me with their comments and feedback and support. Know that you played an important role in getting this project finished. 🙂

So, back to work! Still lots to do but at least now there is light at the end of the tunnel.

I’d love to hear your writing stories, both good and bad. Are you struggling, or riding the wave of success? Tell me about it 🙂

 

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Re-Wired – by Greg Dragon (featuring Dyane Forde) for One Breath Books

I interviewed Ned Hayes, author of Sinful Folk, a while back. Months later, I got an email from him with a very interesting offer:  Would I like to contribute to “A book podcast with very quick reviews of books. One Breath for each book…”

Say what?

Well, I gave it a shot and here it is! You can read the full written review here. But if you’d rather be moved and caressed by my lovely voiced (ha!), click on the link below and be transported to the world of Rewired. Oh, and if you’d like me to review your book, contact me for a review exchange. Your book could end up being reviewed in One Breath.

Enjoy!

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Falling Free: Short Story

So at last, a short story! It’s been a while since I’ve posted one, primarily because most places I submit to don’t accept work that has been published, even if it’s on a blog. However, at just over 1000 words, Falling Free is shorter than the requirements of those same magazines and so seems like a perfect candidate to (hopefully) entertain you.

A quick note: this story was intended to be the inspiration for a graphic project, which is why it is so heavy on visuals and tone. Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think below. 🙂 Please enjoy.

Falling Free

From "Falling Man" at www.davidreviews.com

From “Falling Man” at http://www.davidreviews.com

I am nearly dead from running. Stone slaps the soles of my feet, the pitter-patters echoing and filling the surrounding void. A barren land, it’s a world of grey mountains on the left, black mountains on the right; a slate-grey sky above. Not a tree, or shrub, or blade of grass anywhere. White clouds straggle across the sky. Or are they ghosts? I can’t tell.

I hear him behind me, the madman who drove me to this place. Once across the threshold, I’d tried to block him out, had thrown the locks and bars in place. But he is stronger than me, smarter, too. I’d jumped aside and hit the road running just as the door burst open and the first traces of his sickness swept into the void. That smell—the sickness—I know it well.

I hear him beating the path. He’s furious and fast. He comes on with ease, as though a native of this world and immune to the pain burning my torn-up feet; not afraid of this land with no roads or any living thing. Just greyness and stone. And…

Wait, there’s something up ahead.

Skidding, I change course, take the corner around a boulder. I head for whatever it is.

Maybe a way out?

He’s angry. Bellowing, he too rounds the corner, spitting rocks in his wake as he takes the hairpin turn. I sense his eyes zero in on me. He’s coming.

The ground suddenly gives way to a valley. I speed down the slope, putting my hand down when I almost tumble to the bottom where a collection of rocks wait to tear me to shreds. Once over them, I scale the other side. Streaks of blood stain the surface. Hands shredded, knees bleeding, it doesn’t matter. I can’t let that madman catch me.

I haul myself over the edge. Safe in the other side, but don’t know for how long. I pause to catch my breath. The dark spot in the distance is closer. Nothing between me and it.

“Hello, my name is Constance. Do you want to play?”

It’s a little girl about seven years old. She wears a pink dress, and her wavy brown hair is tied back with a white bow. She smiles. I’m shaken by her innocence. A single white light in this darkening grey world. She holds out a hand. I take it.

What’s a kid doing out here alone? I look around but there’s not another living soul anywhere.

“Uh…where’s your mother?”

Constance crumples to the ground. Blood pools on her candy-pink dress. She coughs once, smiles again, and then is gone. Cackling trickles into my head.

It’s the madman.

He always ruins whatever he touches.

I take off, heading for the spot in the distance. The closer I draw to it, the more the world changes. Ghosts spring out of the ground, each one bright and bursting with life and hope like the girl, caricatures of ‘the good life’:  a mother dressed in a blue and white dress and a flowery apron holding her baby. Her name, Aviva, and the baby, Elan. But upon taking my hand, they too collapse having succumbed to scarlet blotches spreading like weeds across their chests. Others, Hope and Mercy, two frolicking puppies, also fall to jagged, red polka dots. Each death triggers the maniac’s laughter. It pricks the inside of my head like a million fingers running nails across a blackboard. It’s too much. I’ll crack.

I fear…

…he’s changing me…

…making me like him.

Other ghosts appear, this time familiars. Friends, family, colleagues. Girlfriends.

‘Get your lazy ass off the couch and get a job!’

I remember that one:  Lucy. My last and greatest love. But like the madman, I have a knack for drawing out the worst in those around me. To this day, I doubt she knew that her presence had kept the Darkness at bay, or how much thicker and deeper it became after she left. I’d tried to block it out. It still took everything I’d had not go mad. And now, here she was in my world of grey, still hateful, still angry. Yelling.

Like the Madman. He screams at my back, his fury pushing me towards the quickly approaching spot. The black patch looms–yawning like an open mouth. Now I don’t want to go. I want to run back to the valley, through the mountains, all the way to the exploded door and, finally, into the world of color and caricature beyond.

Just what am I doing here?

At the spot, the madman pulls back. I drop to my hands and knees. His laughter fills my head; it’s rapid, hitting hard like a Gatling gun. The stone is cold under my hands, chilling me like I’m kneeling on an ice rink. Gasping and hacking, I can barely breathe.

God, I’m utterly broken.

The chasm’s on my right. The madman on my left. He stands so tall I can’t see his face.

He squats. I can’t look at him. Shaking takes over my arms, then my torso and, finally my legs. He leans in so his lips are against my ear.

“I never meant to catch you,” he says.

“Wh-what?” I lick my lips. Maybe I can talk my way out. “What do you want?”

He stands. Puts his hands in his pockets. Sighs.

“No!” I’m screaming now. “I don’t want to—“

“Die.”

He nudges me with the tip of his foot.

I fall.

Am struck by the fact that now there’s no need to run. No need for strife.

No Darkness trying to drive me insane.

I realize

The madman did me a favor.

Crazed,

He did the thing I could not.

I am free.

Falling

But falling free.

I laugh, only a little surprised by the rising notes—bordering hysteria.

I laugh harder, the sound becoming familiar, as though it had been hiding so deeply and for so long within me that I’d forgotten it was even there. Until the madness pried it loose, setting free a raging, powerful beast.

I want to see the face of my killer.

I look up

As I fall down.

Through the gathering mists

The haze of oncoming unconsciousness opening the door to

The Inevitable.

The madman looks down.

Our eyes meet.

I smile in recognition.

For that man on top

Who watches me as I fall down;

The one who pushed me over the edge

Is me.

Copyright@ 2015 by Dyane Forde

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Subtext: Writing a Story Within a Story by: Dyane Forde

Writer's Gallery

Subtext: Writing a Story Within a Story

DyaneWriters write for different reasons, but usually it’s because, well, we have something to say. Sometimes, just what that might be isn’t known at the moment we sit down at the computer. Then there are times we know exactly what the message is and we set to writing it with purpose and effort. Then how come, even then, we end up with luke-warm responses or with something that isn’t as memorable as we’d thought?

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Author Spotlight : Dyane Forde

Thanks to Dianna Gunn for this great interview! Author Spotlight: Dyane Forde.

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Writing Prompt by A. Joleigh with PRIZES!!

A contest for writers of horror, science fiction, and/or drama!

Writer's Gallery

The writing prompt is as follows:

You live in a third-world country (you can name one that exists or you can make one up).

The story takes place in a prison. A prison where only the worlds most dangerous prisoners go. When a prisoner (innocent or not) is admitted to this prison, his/her family is also put into the prison along with him/her until the sentence is finished or the prisoner dies. Some examples to get the imagination going: Will families kill the prisoner so that they can be free again or will they wait it out with their loved ones until the sentence is over? Will families hire other families to do their dirty work? What hardships are in the prison? Be creative. Dig deep and pull out the ugly and blunt truth that is hiding in that imagination of yours. 

You choose POV, characters, etc. I only…

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A Super Cool Announcement and A Reminder…

party

Hello! I’m thrilled to announce that my story, Nor’easter, short-listed for the Storgy literary fiction contest, is now published in their anthology. Some really great and unique stories were included, so check it out here!

Storgy

Also, a reminder that both my books, The Purple Morrow and Wolf’s Bane are being offered for free on Smashwords until the end of August. Leave me a message below to receive your coupon code. 

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Have a great weekend, everyone!

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