Nomad Redeemed

by Craig Martelle

  (Quick note, Please read the end comments related to Craig’s Trad Pubbed book later.)

  So, how can everything go right, and wrong, in the space of 48 hours? (Warning - RANT coming ahead!)

  On the wrong side - please don’t ever ask a romance writer if a Romance book (notice the capital ‘R’) needs an HEA? (Happy Ever After - or HEA for Now). Now, this story is coming from the 20Books group (Indie Authors supporting each other), and the individual who asked the question just wanted to know the answer. You know, a simple yes or no?

  Unfortunately, there were those who decided they wanted to argue the point.

  Now, I happened to be editing Claimed By Honor (with Justin Sloan) on this particular day, and only kinda knew what was going on when someone had decided to jump out of the group due to ‘stuff said’ and personally messaged me they were leaving.

  I’m not into angst, anger, harsh words…It just isn’t me at all. (Mind you, I FEEL these emotions a fair amount of times, but I don’t like being a part of arguments because… arguments!) Further, when I saw another post by a person I admire the next morning, who was still feeling emotions over this discussion in the 20Books group, it sucked for me to know it sucked for her.

  In the end, I would have personally told those arguing the facts. The fact that Romance (the category) has a MAJOR trope called the HEA. If you choose not to abide by the trope and then label your book a Romance, you are going to go down in a flaming mess. That a person doesn’t like the idea the category 'Romance' needs an HEA doesn’t change the reality of readers expectations.

  Obviously, this isn't true for 100% of all readers, but it is the vast majority. More than enough to kill the reviews for any particular book.

  Once I told them this, I would tell them to go out and do what they are going to do based on the information. If they ignore the warning and should they get blasted to smithereens by reviews, don’t say they weren’t warned, or that the world was against them.

  The World isn’t anymore against them than if they jumped off a building and went SPLAT on the ground twenty stories below.

  Gravity isn’t against them, it just is.

  (Speculation on Dark Matter / Dark Energy and entangled particles connected to gravity can be found here …What? You didn’t think I dreamt up all this science stuff, right? (grin!) https://www.wired.com/2017/01/case-dark-matter/)

  So, we had a ton of ignorance and a non-bliss discussion with (I think) over 300 replies. (I never did read the whole post, because of arguments, remember?) That was the sucky part of the last 48 hours since Claimed By Honor released.

  On the positive side: family is good, Claimed By Honor went to at least #180 in the store, a best seller in multiple categories and Justin Sloan is a top 30 Science Fiction author again!

  Oh, and yours truly is a top 100 author in all of Amazon for the fifth straight day.

 

  Because of my success, there is HUGE gnashing of teeth out in a couple of authoring groups about that damned Michael Anderle and his fans. (Apparently, you are now lumped in WITH me for being too stupid to understand what makes a good book - I’m assuming a good book is anything they write, I can’t say, I haven’t read them. I’m a pulp fiction writer; I write what I like to read and it so happens that a few others like these stories I write, too.)

  Well, for those of you who have read these author notes from way back in the very beginning of The Kurtherian Gambit, you won’t be surprised by my next sentence.

  I’ve got my middle finger up to those who are still hating on us.

  The haters can kiss my ever-loving-Indie-Publishing-Outlaw-Ass… My fans are the FUCKING BEST IN THE WORLD. (Ooops, there I went again, sticking ‘yet another F*Bomb’ in my book.) We are smart, intelligent, giving, supportive, and frankly, don’t give a shit about their opinions. So, I WISH THEM THE BEST THAT LIFE HAS TO OFFER and a few suggestions, not the least of which is …

  You be you, and let us be us.

  We all have problems, and no life is perfect. But, my fans wouldn’t enjoy my stories if they didn’t appreciate justice, desire to see injustice served and enjoy the friendship and all around fun that the characters exhibit. Does this mean my fans DON’T like other types of books?

  NO!

  Many of you, my fans, read a ton of different genre’s, support multiple authors, encourage people in remarkable ways and are amazing in your diversity… These grumbling individuals need to be careful they don’t have an online fan riot backlash.

  Because, if this stuff keeps up (attacking my fans). I’ll track down their online internet conversations and personally and privately warn them they can say whatever they want about me… It comes with the territory of success.

  But if they keep up with this speaking and slurring my fans?

  Yeah, I’ll shine a little light their way for doing that, and I don’t think they will enjoy the discussions with so many pissed off, highly literate and well-read individuals.

 

  Now, here is the second of the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles, and I have to say I love this series! Yeah, it’s different, but I damned well enjoy TH and Char and the rest. I hated that some of those friends from book 01 died, but gosh damn that dude was a colossal son-of-a-bitch!

  What’s going on with the rest of the pack? Is TH going to get GOOD beer (because, priorities, you know?) and will the mayor get the car running and I wonder whether Felicity will stay the ugly person she seems like she is, or will she change, too? This feels like a fun soap-opera to me, and I’m digging every damned page.

  So, I’m grabbing the popcorn like so many others and popping it in my mouth, wondering what is coming up next?

  Best Regards,

  Michael Anderle

  P.S. - Check out the first few chapters of End Times Alaska. It isn’t in Kindle Unlimited (because it was published by a traditional publisher who has constraints, I think). Who knows, maybe at some point in the future we can look to the merging of Indie and Trad Publishing as being supported by this book, right here. If the traditional publisher notices a lift in sales? We might change the future of how we (Trad Pub, Indie Author and Fans) all work together.

 

  (Actually, yes, yes I am.)

  End Times Alaska - a four-book series about survival and life after the destruction of society in the frigid cold of interior Alaska.

  “This book drew me in right away. I loved the characters and the descriptions of the area. I could almost see the place. It was really intense at some points. I loved the amount of detail used to describe how the people handled the sudden changes to their lifestyle. I was completely unable to put this book down,” an Amazon five-star review.

  Please enjoy the first two short chapters of ENDURE, book 01 in the series.

  http://www.winlockpress.com

  Why?

  Smoke didn’t billow from the barrel after I fired at the injured animal. I could see clearly the hole I’d blown through its chest. It had only been three days since the dog’s humans had been home, but that was long enough.

  The pair of dogs had fought viciously. One was dead and the other mortally wounded. I only put him out of his misery, at least that’s what I told myself.

  I’d broken through a window of a neighbor’s home when I heard the pitiful wailing of the injured dog. I knew something was wrong when I heard it. A dog. Dying.

  I couldn’t leave it in pain, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

  It’d be best if I buried the two dogs, but temperatures were way too cold. What was it? Minus twenty Fahrenheit? Even the snow was frozen hard.

  I left the dog where it lay, not far from its former house mate. I’d come back when it was warmer, before they started to decompose, and give them a proper burial.

  I wondered how many times I’d tell myself that same story. I shov
ed the pistol, already cool after the shot, back into my pocket and put my glove on. I had the short walk home to think about how our lives had been a mere three days ago.

  The Instant

  It was Tuesday morning. My wife, Madison, was a professor and started later in the day, so she was still home. Students in college couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed early. Life began at the crack of noon. This was the best for us as it fit our lifestyle. I’d retired from the Marines quite a few years back, and filled the role of house husband, kept man, whatever you wanted to call it. I was too busy with the kids to work. In a previous life, I was gone from home two weeks out of every month.

  It all happened in an instant. There was a bright flash from over the hills. The power went out. A massive thunderclap followed. The windows shook, but only one pane shattered. A strange sensation passed through the sky, like a heat wave one would see around the flames of a bonfire. Then calm returned. But not the power.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked. It was a rhetorical question, the kind people ask when they are afraid. Neither my wife nor our dog attempted to answer.

  Our two-year-old twins stopped playing, and both began to cry.

  We looked toward the city, the direction of the flash, although there were ten miles, two hills, and a stand of trees between us and Fairbanks. It was late morning, but still mostly dark. This far north, Alaska in the winter was a different world. The sun both rises and sets in the south. It stays mostly on the horizon, visible for less than four hours on the solstice.

  We expected to see the house next door burning. The explosion seemed that close.

  But it wasn’t. Nothing shone in the darkness nearby. Through the trees and above the hills, we could see the moonlight reflecting off a growing mushroom cloud.

  “I think something blew up. The base? Maybe the power plant?” I didn’t know what else to say. I was thinking out loud, and it didn’t make sense, not even to me. Something had just happened, and it wasn’t good.

  “Do you think the power will come back on?” my wife asked.

  “Not anytime soon. I’ll set up the generator.” It was the usual twenty-below-zero Fahrenheit outside. Snow covered everything. The trees sparkled with the cold frost, even in the near dark. It was pleasant. A few cars were on Chena Hot Springs Road. I wasn’t sure where they’d be going. No one could have missed the explosion. Then again, there were always the curious and the obtuse.

  Our cell phones showed no service. Our back-up battery power strips didn’t even beep. A power surge must have preceded the outage. The surge protectors appeared to be dead.

  I dug out our wind-up radio and gave it to Madison. She could spin it to life and see what the news said. “Why don’t we just use your battery-powered radio?” she suggested. It had been ten minutes since we lost power and I already acted like we had nothing left.

  We had everything left. I got the other radio for her.

  Nothing. Static on static. This was an all-purpose radio, so it also had sideband. There wasn’t anything anywhere. Nothing but noise. She set it aside. It was more important to take care of the twins. Two-year-olds require a great deal of attention, no matter what else is going on. No matter what other so-called priorities may exist.

  And our dog Phyllis needed to go outside.

  I bundled us both up, and we went outside. She did her thing while I set up the generator…

  Interesting in Reading More?

  Endure - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01GQLVHXK

  Run - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I45F494

  Return - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01JK7CHR2

  Fury - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N0ZJMUJ

  PLEASE NOTE!

  These books are traditionally published and as such, aren’t in Kindle Unlimited.

  HOWEVER, they are available for purchase on Amazon as well as other platforms.