I've just finished the second draft of the new novel, Medium Dead, the first (hopefully) in a new urban fantasy series.
It's weighed in at just under 96k words and I'm thinking of putting out a call for beta readers. So, if you'd like to read a fun fantasy drop me a line at chris(dot)dolley(at)worldonline.fr
Warning: there is some strong language and there are positively NO vampires or werewolves. But there is plenty of magic, mystery, humour and shapeshifting.
Here's a brief synopsis:
Medium Dead is the first in a crime fighting fantasy series chronicling the adventures of Brenda, a reluctant medium, and Brian, a self-styled Vigilante Demon.
Brenda Steele is smart, funny and out of her depth. A magical being wants her to find murdered spirits and help him track down their killers. But Brian doesn't just catch criminals he likes to play with them first and make the punishment fit the crime. As he tells Brenda, 'if all you did was turn up, capture the bad guy then leave - century after century - you'd die of boredom.' But he's also reckless – his last partner died during one of his take downs.
And here's a snippet:
Brenda managed to pick her way through the opening chapters of Strong Poison but even the imminent entanglement of Harriet Vane and Lord Peter failed to engage her as much as it usually did. Only a jaw-dropping instalment of The Rich, The Spoilt, and the Surgically Enhanced managed to snap her out of her growing lethargy.
Celeste, the drama queen's drama queen, discovered she had a brain tumour. Apparently it was pressing on the part of her brain that controlled the buttoning and unbuttoning of her tops. Brenda marvelled at the wealth of medical information one could pick up from quality TV. With Poor Celeste staring at a future of worsening décolletage she was rushed to see the world's top neurosurgeon, Storm Canaveral, a former pro linebacker who'd taken up medicine in an effort to cure his own football related brain tumour. Storm took one look at Celeste's cleavage and whisked her away to his own private hospital yacht moored in the Med. But had he left it too late? The episode ended with Celeste flat on her back – a position not unknown to Celeste – but this time she was complaining of a headache. And that was a first.
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It's always a tense time for authors - the new book comes out and you're not sure how it's going to be received. One minute you're up, the next you're down and in sweeps the doubt - the book's no good, I should have spent more time re-working it...
And then in come the reviews.
Well, the first two reviews for Shift are out and couldn't have been much better.
Don D'Amassa at Critical Mass writes:
"I think I somehow missed reading Dolley's first novel, Resonance, when it appeared a couple of years ago. It's an oversight that I plan to correct in the near future because his second is a very accomplished, intricate, and entertaining novel. There's lots of neat stuff in this, and the plot is clever and full of surprises. It's first class writing from someone whose name will, I predict, be much better known before long."
And Harriet Klausner at Alternative Worlds writes:
"SHIFT is a great science fiction mystery that will have the audience wondering who the killer is. The story line is fast-paced but brilliantly driven by the strong cast ... Chris Dolley mesmerizes his audience."
The full reviews can be read here
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After what seems like months of solid promotional activities I'm now back writing. Yay! I'm aiming to get a synopsis and the first three chapters of my new fantasy detective novel ready for pitching before I disappear off to America for Westercon and Readercon.
The synopsis is almost done - I need to work out the denouement - and I'm nearly 2,000 words into the first chapter.
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A new svelte Kai has returned form International Kitten of Mystery Rehab. Readers may remember the consternation in International Kitten of Mystery circles over the full-figured superstar's weight. A situation that came to a head when he became stuck under a sideboard (I think James Bond had a similar problem in Casino Royale with a Russian tabby) and needed an extraction team with an extra large tub of grease to pull him out.
Following Kai's debriefing - and degreasing - it was decided urgent measures were called for. So after a strict regime of diet mice and vole lite, a new Kai has emerged. And, no longer the fat cat of the spook world, Kai is now licensed to swing from very high places.
Witness his first mission. Enemy agents are holed up in barn. They've planted explosive charges around the doors and windows. There's only one way in - up the wisteria, under the eaves and squeeze in through a minuscule gap in the roof.
Here we see Kai climbing the wisteria. Look, no grease!
Now he's looking for the gap under the eaves and, ever the showman, putting on a wobble for the cameras.
Then he leaps! Catches hold of something with his front paws and dangles for several seconds. His back paws claw air. His fellow international kittens of mystery hold their collective - and very mysterious - breath. Can Kai swing it?
Now, an evil blogger would end this post with a kaihanger. Tune in next week to find out if Kai survives! But... as I'm currently not evil here's the conclusion. Kai hauls himself up, under and through. Once inside, he leaps from a very great height onto the straw bales below. "Make my day, voles," he says in a Dirty Tabby voice and the voles immediately surrender.
Here we see Kai posing amongst the straw bales for the debriefing cameras and thinking about supper.
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I had a one of 'those' dreams on Friday - the ones where you wake up convinced you have the plot to the next killer novel and can't wait to start writing it. Usually this lasts less than ten seconds as the cruel light of day intercedes and reveals that your brilliant idea makes no sense, has no plot and the main character appears to be a giant fluffy were-bunny called Norman.
But not this time ... as he's called 'The Bunny With No Name'
Or maybe not.
Anyway, early Saturday morning I awoke with the solution to a story I've been struggling with for a couple of years. It started when I set out to write a fantasy detective short story and 15k words into the 5k story gave up. The story wouldn't end. There wasn't enough for a novel but, every time I tried to bring the story to a conclusion, it refused. Something wasn't right. Minor plot points refused to be resolved, the detective didn't feel right and the city was wrong.
So, I trunked the idea for a year. Then decided to chop it ruthlessly down to 5k by simplifying the structure and cutting out most of the sub plots. The result: a bare bones story that raced from start to finish without stopping anywhere long enough to become interesting. And the detective was still wrong.
Then I had the dream. I had the wrong detective. The one I should have had was the detective I used in an even older short story. He was perfect. Not an obvious choice. Not even a logical one. But for this story he was the perfect one. And the city which I'd been writing about was wrong too. It had been a two dimensional pastiche whereas my dream city teased apart all those half-formed ideas and rearranged them into a living city that, like all good cities, became as much a character as its citizens.
I've been working on the outline ever since and I haven't had so many plot pieces falling into place since Resonance. It's amazing how some books clamour to be written whereas others have to be dragged one idea at a time from an unwilling muse.
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With Household Security issuing a brown (mouse) alert, it's been a busy time for international kittens of mystery, Kai and Xena. Here we see the feline two sizing up a dangerous situation. Enemy mice, for there are no other kind, have been sighted holding illegal gatherings under this cupboard. Time for some non-covert kitten surveillance.
Having size up both the situation and her shoulders, Xena decides to move to the side entrance. Kai having sized up very little, prefers the direct approach. No exceedingly small gap can defeat a kitten with determination.
Two dislocated shoulders later, Kai squeezes where no international kitten of mystery has ever squeezed before. Or ever will again, thinks Kai. The insurgent mice - those that haven't been squashed or wedged up against their terrorist training manuals - flee the building pursued by Xena.
His job done, agent Kai emerges. 'Nothing to see, folks. Move along.' Five minutes later the International Kitten Of Mystery extraction team arrives with their extra large tub of grease.
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The current summerlike weather and lighter evenings have wrought an unexpected change in the activities of the International Kittens of Mystery. They've become Nocturnal Kittens of Mystery. Which has resulted in far less Polish being typed on my keyboard as they both spend much of the day asleep.
The word 'peace' has re-entered our vocabulary and found a friend called 'quiet.'
Here's Kai and Xena sleeping off a night of intensive counter beetle operations:
And if you're wondering if Xena's wearing a furry night scarf, here's the picture from another angle.
Yes, it's Kai's leg - he has so many. And as an International Kitten of Mystery he has to be prepared at all times and sometimes that means kittenpulting your partner out of bed.
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This has been an interesting exercise. I posted the two options on Livejournal, Baen's Bar and rasfc. As of now, 7 have gone for option one, 8 for option 2, 4 for a composite and 4 didn't like either.
And there have been some excellent comments. I'll produce a third option over the next few days taking in all the suggestions (and realising that there is no combination of words known to man that will please everyone)
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It's option time again. This time for the back cover of Shift - which comes out on July 3rd. As with Resonance, I'm asking for your input. Which, if any, of the two options do you prefer? Would you like to see a third option? A revised version of options one or two?
All suggestions welcome. I have ten days to decide before sending the final version to Baen.
So, here goes:
OPTION ONE (taken from my web site)
An eleven dimensional thriller with a detective who has to get into the mind of a killer - the hard way.
In 2054 astronaut John Bruce became the first man to enter higher dimensional space. Two years after his triumphant return a second John Bruce appears. But this one's inside the mind of Peter Pendennis, a prisoner in a secure psychiatric unit. A killer with multiple personalities. Had John Bruce just become personality number thirteen? He appears to know things only the real John Bruce could.
Or is Pendennis a fraud? A manipulating attention-seeker hiding behind layers of sham personalities? Astropsychology professor, Nick Stubbs, is called in to investigate. According to the latest theories the human mind doesn't just inhabit the physical three-dimensional world. It projects into the higher dimensions. And if Bruce's brain had been inadequately shielded when he'd entered higher dimensional space...
As events escalate and the body count rises, Nick realises the answer lies in higher dimensional space and, somehow, he has to get there.
And there's an added problem. Astronaut John Bruce just happens to be running for President.
In higher dimensional space everyone can hear you scream
OPTION TWO (taken from Amazon)
Peter Pendennis killed and dissected eleven people before they caught him. Now he's locked away in an institution—but one of the multiple personalities he is host to claims to be the astronaut John Bruce, who is now running for President of the United States. And when Pendennis is confronted with Louise Callander, Bruce’s former girl friend, he tells her things that only the real John Bruce could know. Nick Stubbs, a scientist investigating the nature of multiple dimensions in their connection to the human brain, was called in to investigate—and now very much regrets it.
Someone is killing people, leaving their parts scattered in places where Nick has been, and the police think he’s the prime suspect. The modus operandi of the murderer is identical to that of Peter Pendennis—but he apparently is still securely under lock and key. Nick knows that John Bruce had tested a new faster-than-light ship and taken it into higher dimensional space. Had something happened to him while he'd been there? Had part of his personality been left behind and somehow surfaced inside Peter Pendennis?
Soon, Nick and Louise are on the run. But how can they escape a killer who seems to be unbound by any restraints of space and time?
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Following the great success of the inaugural astral interview (i.e. no one died. Well, no one important...) the Astraldome has had its walls hosed down, the drains unblocked and ... welcomes fantasy and mystery author Sarah Hoyt.
Sarah has two books coming out this month. Draw One in the Dark - a shape-shifting urban fantasy - and, writing as Sarah D'Almeida, Death of a Musketeer - an historical mystery starring four very famous musketeers.
So, same format as before, with the help of two mediums strapped to a supercomputer we are going to astrally project Sarah from her home in Colorado to a place very close to your computer screen. Same warning as before. If there is any ectoplasm leakage - which I'm assured there won't be - don't let your cat lick it up.
Ready? Okay, Windows ESP is loading, the quantum computer may or may not be on. Now concentrate on Sarah's picture below. Will her across the astral plane. And keep concentrating. Hold that image. The astral plane is a slippery place to cross - her spectral image might snap back. Or shape shift. We are dealing with an author who uses pseudonyms.
Can you see it? Sarah's spectral form? Then let the interview commence...
Q1. I read in an interview that you've had a crush on Athos since the age of eleven. But why Athos? Wasn't Aramis the Musketeer heart throb?
Oh, probably. But one falls in love with characters for different reasons. Besides, quite frankly, if I met Aramis I'd probably think he was too smooth by half.
Athos is different. Perhaps because of his guilt over his wife's death -- though of course, Milady isn't dead but he doesn't know that -- or because of a strict moral fiber with stoic overtones. The thing is, when Athos -- at the beginning of Monsieur Dumas books -- disciplined himself past physical pain and weakness to make his way to Monsieur de Treville's office to defend his friends, I fell headlong in love with him. There is a self-contained darkness there, a discipline and loyalty that transcends mere physical limits. Hard not to fall in love with, in fact.
Q2. In DOITD Kyrie is a werepanther. Which sounds cool but are werepanthers house trained? If I were to visit Kyrie's home would I find a large litter tray in her bathroom?
Um... I have no doubt if Kyrie saw this she would glare at you. Kyrie only shifts when she wants to or needs to. Oh, one or two accidental shifts might happen when she is stressed or in trouble -- but I have no doubt she takes care of the minutia of daily life in the ordinary way. :)
Q3. Given the choice which animal would you like to shape shift into?
One of my cats. This thing about sleeping all day, eating at will and being adored for your troubles HAS to be a good deal. If something more ferocious were desired, probably a tiger. However, my alter ego in Baen's Bar is an ocelot, and I guess that will have to do.
Q4. You receive a phone call from a serial killer. He asks you the same question he asked his previous victims. "You have 150 words to sell me your book. 150 words exactly. If I like what you write I'll buy the book. If I don't you die." What would your 150 words be?
Well, first of all I would yell at the serial killer for being so uninformed. After all, I have TWO books coming out practically one on top of each other.
So, my first talk would be about Draw One In The Dark --
Draw One In The Dark is hip without being illiterate, edgy without being dry and sexy without being sex laden. It does shape changers as you've never seen them before. They are not the cursed creatures of legend, bound to their unwitting fate. No, rather they are humans -- humans whose inner beast is made visible and external and therefore both harder and easier to control. Their battles with themselves are those we all engage in, only magnified. Besides, it's non-stop rollicking adventure with looming danger and a breath-taking payoff.
A quick pause for a reaction ... he's not sure about the word count - he's had to take his shoes and socks off. But he doesn't like the look of that spectral panther ... so, yes, it's an ectoplasmic thumbs-up from our serial killer. So, on with the next question...
Q5. I heard that "Draw One in the Dark" is diner slang for a cup of black coffee. Are you going to continue that theme for the sequel? Will book two be Draw Two in the Dark or maybe A Blonde with Sand Dragged through Georgia?
The second one, which I'm hoping very much will sell is Gentleman Takes a Chance, old diner slang for Hash, the third one Blonde with Sand and the fourth one Bowl of Red. :)
Thank you, Sarah. The mediums power down, the quantum computer's in a state, and Sarah's ghostly presence slithers back along the plane, pauses at the duty free and disappears.
Now for feedback - did everyone see Sarah? Did anyone sober see Sarah? Did Sarah's astral form billow out and grasp a pen? And if it did, did it sign anything? Enquiring minds need to know.
Meanwhile, Draw One in the Dark can be bought from all good bookshops including Amazon in the US and UK
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Yes, last minute touches are being applied to internationally famous medium Doris Scrote. The Salvador Dali Llama is being greased up and Windows ESP is ... displaying a blue screen and blaming everyone else.
But I'm sure all the kinks - and any other sixties supergroups we find lurking in the astral plane - will be ironed out by tomorrow.
So, tomorrow at the Astraldome - be there or be ... somewhere else. It doesn't matter. An astrally projected author can find you wherever you are.
And this one writes about werepanthers.
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