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Today is the final day of Steampunkapalloza. Thank you so much for helping us celebrate Steamed’s 4th birthday.  I can’t believe we’ve been running this for FOUR years–and we couldn’t do it without you.

Today I have a very special post, an interview with James Blaylock, one of the founding fathers of Steampunk.  His new steampunk release The Aylesford Skull is available from Titan Books as both a trade paperback and as a special, signed, first edition.

The great folks at Titan have given me a copy of The Aylesford Skull for one of you!!! One lucky person will win! (see below for details.)
Suzanne: Welcome to Steamed! Can you tell us what the story of your recent release is about?

Ayelsford Skull Main 2_1.jpg.size-230James Blaylock: That’s a tough question, because the novel is full of plot turns, and I don’t want to give too much away.  Even the jacket copy is a spoiler, to some extent.  The main character, Professor Langdon St. Ives (featured in other novels, novellas, and stories that I’ve written over the past 35 years) has semi-retired from adventuring and is a gentleman farmer, growing hops in Aylesford, Kent.  Loathsome crimes occur in the area, however, and he begins to suspect that his old nemesis, Doctor Narbondo, is up to no good.  His new, comfortable life very shortly flies to pieces, and he and a cast of characters become embroiled in personal and world-threatening conflicts involving river pirates, dirigibles, grave robbery, magically altered skulls, kidnappings, swamps, Neolithic coal, paranormal chicanery, and so forth – heaps of things that the reader has been anxiously awaiting without, perhaps, being aware of it.

S: Where did you get the ideas for this story?

JB: I do a lot of research when I’m writing Steampunk, and I find myself abruptly influenced by odds and ends of things that I discover in the moment and that I knew nothing at all about two minutes earlier.  I’m also continually influenced by the books that lie around on my desk, and that I read over and over again for the pleasure of it.  I’m a fan, for instance, of the novels and stories of Patrick O’Brian and for the short stories of James Norman Hall in the collection titled Dr. Dogbody’s Leg.  I tend to reread The Pickwick Papers and whatever volume of Sherlock Holmes stories is closest at hand.  All these books are close at hand, in fact, in the “favorite books” bookshelves over the desk.  It’s often been the case that I run across throwaway ideas in the things that I read for pleasure: a mention of this or that, or a brief bit of intriguing setting detail.  When that happens, sometimes something useful will come into my mind, which I immediately clutch with both hands and hold onto.  Also, I’m crazy about old reference books that contain fascinating information that’s long out of fashion, one of my favorites being Wonders of the Universe, a Record of Things Wonderful and Marvelous in Nature, Science and Art (which has a very convincing chapter on plesiosaur sightings).  That one piqued my interest in Japanese magic mirrors, which set off a train of strange notions in my mind, resulting in the skull lamps featured in The Aylesford Skull.

S: This is the next in a series, right? How did this series come to be?

JB: That’s a moderately long tale that goes back to 1977, when I wrote a short story titled “The Ape-box Affair” and sold it to Unearth magazine.  That was my second sale as a fledgling professional writer, and it became the first Steampunk story published in the U.S.  (Actually, K.W. Jeter and Tim Powers and I were all writing that sort of stuff in our own ways, but I lucked into print first.) I was on a Robert Louis Stevenson binge at the time and had recently read The New Arabian Nights and The Dynamiter, and it came into my mind to write a wrong-box story – several similar boxes abroad in London that get mixed up.  I was also crazy for P.G. Wodehouse, and my head was full of the sound of his prose and the voices of his goofy characters.  I had no idea at the time, but the characters I created in “The Ape-box Affair” would keep surfacing often enough in the following years that very soon they became series characters.  They’re more fully drawn now and far more active than they ever were in the past.

S: You’re one of the “founding fathers’ of Steampunk, can you tell us a little about how Steampunk came to be?

JB: K.W. Jeter, Tim Powers, and I were friends (still are) in the 1970s.  After we graduated from the university, we were young enough and idle enough to have time to hang around with each other during the day.  We were all new writers at the time.  I had published my first short story, and Tim and K.W. had sold novels.  I was enthusiastically working on an impossible novel, which I would figure out how to write several years later as The Digging Leviathan.  All of us were big on Victorian literature.  K.W., who had a degree (I seem to remember) in sociology, had read Henry Mayhew’s brilliant London Labour and the London Poor, and was regaling us with wild accounts of treasures and feral pigs in the London sewers and that sort of thing.  Tim was researching and writing the novel that would become The Drawing of the Dark, and K.W. was writing Morlock Night.  Much of our “research” went on at O’Hara’s Pub in downtown Orange, California, where I lived at the time and still do.  (I mean I live in Orange, not at O’Hara’s Pub.)  K.W. and Tim were living in a bohemian sort of neighborhood  in nearby Santa Ana, where Phil Dick was living at the time.  None of us had the idea of writing any particular sort of thing at all.  It simply seemed right and natural to set a story where the story seemed to want to be set, and all-things-Victorian were on our minds.  It was nearly a decade after “The Ape-Box Affair” and Morlock Night were published that K.W. would coin the term Steampunk, which abruptly gave shape to the whole thing.  Up until then we had no idea that these novels and stories formed any sort of science fiction subgenre.  We weren’t trying to achieve anything much beyond publishing stories and novels.  We might as easily have been writing pirate fantasies (which would come later for me, unsuccessfully, and for Powers, successfully) or vegetarian thrillers or protozoan stories like Twain’s “The Great Dark,” which I was also fond of at the time.  We might easily be Piratepunks or Vegetarianpunks or Pondwaterpunks now.

S: How have you seen Steampunk evolve from when you first started writing to now?

JB: It certainly has changed, largely by growth and the odd and interesting business of its having affected pretty much all the arts by now.  Whatever literary tastes a reader might have, he or she can find Steampunk examples of that thing in growing abundance.  As for my own writing, however, I’m doing the same thing today that I did 35 years ago when I wrote “The Ape-box Affair.”  If the writing has evolved, it has evolved in the sense that I’m a better writer now.  I bring 35 years worth of stuff to my writing that I couldn’t bring to it back then.  My ear for the language is better, I do more adequate research, I work harder to get rid of anachronism, etc.

S: Are you a plotter or a pantster? Can you tell us a little about your writing style/schedule?

JB: I’m an inveterate outliner, actually: I’m very nervous about promising a story or a novel to a publisher without having a fairly clear idea of what it will entail.  Over the years I’ve sold most of my books after showing the outlines to editors, and that was the case with The Aylesford Skull, my first novel to be published by Titan Books.  I was happy to provide evidence that I actually had a story to tell, and that Titan could safely advance money to me.  That being said, I’ve always hidden the outlines away in the drawer once I’ve finished them, and most of what develops in the novel is purely organic.  My best ideas come into my mind during the writing, when I’m not actively looking for them.  The outline abdicates once the writing starts, because if the outline is on my mind, then fresh ideas have a harder time finding their way in.  I wish I had a writing schedule, actually.  Currently I teach full time at Chapman University, and I also direct the Creative Writing Conservatory at the Orange County School of the Arts (where Tim Powers teaches poetry and novel writing).  So during the school year you can find me frantically driving around town, eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich lunch while flying from one place to another.  I’m up at 5 a.m. and often put in 12-hour days, but there’s no time to write during most of them.  So I grab time during vacations and over the summer.  When I’m up against it, my weekends disappear into whatever I’m writing, and I take reference books and etc. along on vacations.  Like most writers, sitting down to write is a frustratingly wasted effort unless I have a several-hour block of time in a moderately quiet house – enough time to read something relevant for half an hour first to compose my mind.  The Aylesford Skull took two years to write.

S: What’s next? Can you share anything with us about any new projects (in any genre)?

JB: I’ve just turned in another Steampunk novel to Subterranean Press – a short novel that’s a companion to my two previous Sub Press productions: The Ebb Tide and The Affair of the Chalk Cliffs.  This new one is titled The Adventure of the Ring of Stones.  I’d chat about it here, but in many ways it beggars description.  I’m also working up a new novel for Titan Books, which (I’m fairly sure) will tie up a loose end in The Aylesford Skull, although the tying up is only a very small fraction of what the novel will be.  Also, a few months back I published a young adult novel titled Zeuglodon, the True Adventures of Kathleen Perkins, Cryptozoologist, and I’ve got the plot for a followup adventure in my mind.  That book really wants to be written.  In short, I’ve got too many writing projects vying for my time.

S: Anything else you want to tell everyone?

JB: Only that readers are my favorite people, and that if they read my books, I hope they enjoy them.  Also, and maybe more vitally, I read recently that a meteor is going to take out the earth in another 25 years.  It’s hurtling toward us as we speak, giving us the glad eye.  So whatever you really want to do, don’t put it off.

–Cheers, Jim Blaylock


http://jamespblaylock.com/

James Paul Blaylock  is noted for a distinctive, humorous style, as well as being one of the pioneers of the steampunk genre. Despite his close association with Steampunk, most of his work is contemporary, realistic fantasy set in southern California, typified by books like The Last Coin, The Rainy Season, and Knights of the Cornerstone. When he’s not teaching or writing, Jim spends his time going to the beach, gardening, working on the family home in Orange, California, traveling, and building sets for local community theaters.

 

To win The Aylesford Skull just leave a comment below. Open internationally. Contest closes May 7, 2013 at 11:59 pm PST. 

 

Suzanne Lazear is the author of the Aether Chronicles series. INNOCENT DARKNESS is out not, CHARMED VENGEANCE releases 8-8-13. Vist www.aetherchronicles.com for more info.

 

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Carousel Horse(photo from http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/)

The circus was a big part of British life in the mid-1800s. Much like the one run by Belinda’s great-uncle, traveling troupes featured side shows, trick riding, acrobats, clowns, and animal taming, along with early carnival rides. Some traveled by train, others by caravan, and my imagination has applied the steampunk elements. For a good article on Victorian circus, you can go here, to an article from the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Here’s a tiny taste of what Connor and Belinda find when they go undercover in the circus: (excerpt ©2013 by Cindy Spencer Pape)

The morning of the circus opening was hectic, but Connor couldn’t help a sense of exhilaration. A crowd of people crowded around the fence watched anxiously as Nicky Smith, the owner’s nephew and mechanical army survivor, stoked the calliope, and performers scurried back and forth getting ready. The scents of animals and roasting peanuts filled the air.

Connor, in his role as assistant ringmaster, was meant to patrol the grounds, nominally overseeing all the workers, but mostly watching the crowd for their adversaries. Today’s goal was to establish that the magick in the circus as real and make sure it was impressive enough that word would spread. He’d spoke to Merrick and Fergus about the Builders’ Guild and the Architecture and Arts Association the night before, and Merrick would look into those today while the circus was busy here.

About half an hour before the gates opened, Connor ducked into the fortune-teller’s tent to make sure Belinda was ready to go. Rowan’s tail thumped as Connor walked in and the dog stuck his big head up for Connor’s scratch. Connor rubbed a wiry ear, but he only had eyes for Belinda. He’d grown used to her simple gypsy clothing of bright skirts and a peasant blouse during the last few days, but today she’d added to it, with brassy bangles on both wrists, big hoops in her ears and a red scarf covering the top of her head, while her dark curls spilled out from underneath. Even in layers of mismatched styles and colors, she still looked good enough to eat as she smiled up at him, her grandmother’s tarot cards in her hands.

“All set?” Willow and Rowan, sprawled on either side of her, shifted to make room for Connor.

Belinda nodded. “I remember my lessons on how to fake a reading in the crystal ball, and I’ve memorized what the various lines on a palm are supposed to mean. I practiced this week on most of our co-conspirators, so I think I’m ready.”

He slid into the chair opposite hers. “Show me.”

Belinda lifted an eyebrow. “You want me to read your fortune?”

“Exactly.” He winked.

“Very well, most honored sir.” She slipped into the persona he’d seen her practicing all week. “Would milord prefer the cards, to have his palm read or to plumb the mysteries of the crystal ball?”

“Oh, the crystal ball, by all means.” He settled into his seat, enjoying the show.

Her dark eyes twinkled up at him. “For the spirits to come, you must honor them with silver. Five shillings, if you please.” She held out her palm.

Connor handed her a five-shilling coin.

“You are most gracious, sir, as well as handsome.” Belinda laid both hands on the large quartz globe on a silver-plated stand in front of her and peered into it. “Think of a question, concentrate on the answers you wish the spirits to provide.”

“Very well.” He grinned back. “I have my question.”

He could feel her gaze dart to him when she wasn’t looking into the ball. “I see an image beginning to form,” she said. “A man? No, ’tis a woman. Her hair is dark, ah yes, but it isn’t your wife, no…she’s younger. A sister, perhaps? I see. Her eyes are just like yours—no, not in color, but the expression, the intelligence and humor, those are the same, are they not?”

“Give over,” Connor said, impressed by her acumen. “How did you know I was thinking of Melody?”

*****

Contest: In conjunction with the release of Cards & Caravans, Cindy is running a contest for a $25.00 gift card to the e-book distributor of your choice, plus the chance to name a character in the next Gaslight Chronicles story. To enter, visit the “Contact Cindy” page on her website and send her a note. Mention which blog you saw this on and some little detail about the post. One entry per person per blog post. The complete rules and a list of post locations and dates are available on the “Contest” page on Cindy’s site.

 *****

Cards&Caravans_final About the Book: Cards & Caravans is book 5 in the Gaslight Chronicles steampunk romance series, and releases from Carina Press on March 18. Find out more here.

Blurb: Belinda Danvers isn’t a witch. But that won’t stop them burning her at the stake…

Connor McKay can tell at a glance that Belinda’s magickal powers are minimal at best. She can’t be guilty of murdering village children. There’s something suspicious about her arrest and lightning-quick sentence. Unfortunately, telling anyone how he knows would mean revealing his own powers. He’s been sent by the Order of the Round Table to help and he can’t just let her die.

Escaping from jail and running from vindictive villagers in her grandfather’s steam-powered caravan is more excitement than Belinda’s had in years. And despite the danger–or maybe because of it–she loves the time spent with her sexy rescuer. But there’s more to his magick than he’s letting on…

There’s something going on that’s bigger than the two of them. It’s time for good to make a stand.

Review: 4 Stars from Romantic Times: “All the trappings of a good steampunk novel are here..but most enchanting of all is the love that develops between the hero and heroine.

*****

About the Author: Cindy S391766_509428429076163_422038333_npencer Pape firmly believes in happily-ever-after and brings that to her writing. Award-winning author of 16 novels and more than 30 shorter works, Cindy lives in southeast Michigan with her husband, two sons and a houseful of pets. When not hard at work writing she can be found dressing up for steampunk parties and Renaissance fairs, or with her nose buried in a book. Catch her online at:

Website:
http://www.cindyspencerpape.com

Blog:
http://cindyspencerpape.blogspot.com/

Newsletter group:
http://yhoo.it/ni7PHo

Twitter:
http://twitter.com/CindySPape

Facebook:
http://on.fb.me/gjbLLC

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shirtAt an SF con a while ago, I bought a T-shirt that says, “Steampunk means never having to ask ‘Is this period’?” That’s always a big choice when you’re writing alternate history of any variety. How much to keep the same and how much to change? It can be a fine line, trying to give your world that historical flair without simply writing a period novel with some incongruous touches. To quote my agent, “You can’t start out with Downton Abbey and then turn it into Jules Verne.” Well, I guess you could, but it probably wouldn’t work very well. As a former scientist, I tend to want a little order to my fantasy. Yeah, I get the irony.

I try to set my world up with “butterfly effect” differences. In the Gaslight Chronicles, magick (sic) exists and so do paranormal monsters. Therefore, the Order of the Round Table still exists, devoted to protecting England from those threats. After all, who better to organize such a force than Merlin, and who better than Lancelot to head it?  In my version of the 1850s, their descendents are still fighting the good fight. It’s a change from reality, but it’s got a logic to it.

The same goes for technology. In my world a man called Charles Babbage invented the first computers in the 1840s. (He really did, it just never got built. That’s the key change for a lot of steampunk.) In my world, he was also ennobled, and is known as Lord Babbage. From there, technology boomed, and along with it, pollution and other sciences, and women’s rights. Since the code for the Analytical Engine was written by Ada, Lady Lovelace (daughter of the famous poet, Lord Byron), it was proven that women could stand alongside men in intellectual pursuits. And then she founded a college for women in the sciences at Oxford University, which a few of my heroines have attended. (Wink from Moonlight & Mechanicals and Geneva from Kilts & Kraken for starters.) Again, there’s a logic, a cause-and-effect to things.

Is my steampunk realistic? Not in the least. There are vampyres and robot dogs and all kinds of other creatures and creations. But does the world make sense in of itself? A little. At least to me.

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Have a wonderful Valentine’s Day!

In non-steampunk news, Nailed, one of my older erotic romances is being re-released today. Find out more from Resplendence Publishing.

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Announcing my new Steampunk/Romance, Conquistadors In Outer Space, coming this Friday, February 1st. The subtitle is Ana’s Interplanetary Conquest.

Henri de Montaut, from De la terre à la lune (From the earth to the moon), by Jules Verne, Paris (Hetzel), 18??

In an alternate history of 1610 AD, the King of Spain commissions the creation of giant cannons, fashioned from Leonardo Da Vinci’s design, for the purpose of blowing the island of England to the bottom of the ocean. Since that country separated from papal authority, Spain has the approval of the church to separate England from the rest of Europe. Then, after an interrogation by priests with the inquisition, Galileo sees a faraway dot in the night sky with his new telescope. He shows the pope planet X, an actual New World Spain can claim and all the inhabitants can be converted to Christianity. Also all the gold and riches discovered there will belong to Spain alone. So they find a way to use the cannons to that end instead.

Thrown off the Spanish estate she worked at all her life, Ana, a milkmaid, seeks a new life. Disguised as a rich widow, she boards a rocket, to be blasted out of a huge cannon, and targeted for the newly discovered planet, X.  Sparks fly when she finds Ramon, the only man she ever loved, heir of the estate she worked on, is flying to Planet X as well. As the Spanish governor of Plant X searches for gold, the treasure Ramon seeks is Ana. His conquest is challenging, though he swears to protect and love her, as a noble he cannot marry a peasant. Ana cannot deny her desire for Ramon, but she will not be his mistress. Will his conquest of her heart succeed or will Ana make a life for herself alone amid the wonders and dangers of Planet X.

Excerpt:

In an instant the loudest boom and ka-chung noises he ever heard rattled his ears as the metal projectile shook violently. He clenched his teeth as every muscle in his body quaked with the blast.

“It is the Estrella. It is hurdling through space to planet X.”

He recognized the voice of the priest who strapped him in. Ana’s ship, De Nunez had told him. “Is all well,” he yelled out. “Did they lift off safely?”

Now that he had found her again, he needed to protect her. Once they arrived on planet X, he would seize this second chance to win her heart for she’d stolen his long ago.

“Si.” The priest’s tone held a tinge of awe. “In a blaze of light they blasted through the heavens. They are in God’s hands now.”

Ramon let out a long breath of relief. Ana was safe, shooting through space. The Estrella had cast off and the Juanita would soon follow. When his rocket blasted off in an explosion of light and fire, he wouldn’t hear anything.

He felt his mind loose itself in drowsiness. He shut his eyes under the power of this death like sleep and prayed in twenty years he would wake. When he did, he’d be on Planet X with the woman he’d always loved. He knew for the next twenty years of the voyage, he would dream of Ana.

Contest: Comment below to enter my new release contest to win a PDF Ebook of Conquistadors In Outer Space.

Maeve Alpin, Steampunk Romance Author

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Today we welcome author Steve DeWinter.

Steve DeWinter is an American born adventure/thriller author whose evil twin writes science fiction under the pseudonym S.D. Stuart. His latest novel The Wizard of OZ: A Steampunk Adventure will be available January 8th, 2013 in Kindle and Trade Paperback.

Don’t Cross the Streams

by Steve DeWinter

crossing-the-streams

If you are as old as I am (or have an older friend who has shared this wonderful movie with you) then you know what I am talking about.

If not, I do not want to spoil the movie for you, but the general idea is that the device the Ghostbusters used to capture ghosts could destabilize the entire universe if they crossed streams with another of the devices. The idea behind this was that each device’s stream alone was powerful, but if mixed with another device’s stream, the results would be disastrous.

So, lesson learned.

Don’t cross the streams.

Writing teachers (and other established authors too) give this same advice to young writers just starting out. Write what you know. Use the genre you already read and write in that. Don’t cross the genres. Don’t write in a genre you know nothing about. The list goes on and on for what writers should and should not do when choosing what to write.

I, however, ignore this advice on a daily basis with my writing. I am a cross the genres author. I have two primary genres of books that I love to read. Science Fiction and Thrillers. When I write, I mix in the best of both genres. I “cross the streams” in my writing.

Have I destabilized the universe of storytelling? I do not think so.

1619780038As I entered into the steampunk fiction realm for the first time to write The Wizard of OZ: A Steampunk Adventure, I knew going in I was going to “cross the genres” once again and create a rip-roaring science fiction adventure with a thriller quality villain in a steam-powered turn of the century world. Oh, and there had to be robots (or automatons as they were affectionately called in the late 1800’s), lots and lots of robots.

While Amazon categorizes my books for a specific audience for the purposes of searchable lists, I pull on the resources and story methods from multiple genres to create stories that entertain and thrill readers.

And if you have never seen Ghostbusters, go do something about that today!

–Steve DeWinter

www.stevedw.com

The Wizard of OZ: A Steampunk Adventure

Kindle E-Book Edition

http://amzn.to/TGJBhO

Trade Paperback Edition

http://amzn.to/RCcwDP

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Today we welcome O.M. Grey as she drops by on her blog tour…

O. M. Grey Blog Tour: Steampunk ParaRomance and Tiara Giveaway

Photo by Greg Daniels

Thank you so much for hosting me today, Suzanne, and all the Lovely Lolitas at STEAMED! It’s so great to be back!

Today I’d like to give all STEAMED readers a chance to win my YA Steampunk Paranormal Romance novel, The Zombies of Mesmer, along with this lovely tiara/necklace made by EJP Creations. I’m wearing it in this picture from my Gearhearts Steampunk Glamour Revue photo shoot. This was my favorite picture without the red hair, but it didn’t make it into the final issue, although several other lovely pictures did. But before we get to the contest portion, please enjoy my short story “Hannah & Gabriel,” a Steampunk retelling of the fairy tale “Hansel and Gretel.”

Hannah & Gabriel

“Gabe! Gabe, wake up!” Hannah urged her brother in a desperate whisper, shaking him.

“What?” Balled fists rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“Listen. Come here and listen.” Before Gabriel could find his bearings, Hannah was yanking him across the room. “Listen,” she whispered again.

Through the wall, Gabriel could hear his parents talking in hushed tones. His own breathing drowned out their words, so he held his breath and listened.

“No.” It was his father’s voice. “I will not, woman. There must be another way.”

“You know there isn’t.” Gabriel’s step-mother did not speak as softly. “There is no work, Oscar. No work means no food. Do you want us all to die?”

“Of course not, but they are only children.”

“Exactly, they will probably be found by someone who will care for them. We’ll dress them in their best and send them on their way. They’ll be better off.”

“What are they talking about?” Gabriel asked his sister.

“Shhhh. They’ll hear you.” Hannah climbed back into her bed and pulled her knees in tight. All was suddenly silent. The voices in the adjacent room had quieted, and all Gabe heard was the sounds of the night. Then bare feet padding across the wooden floor. Gabriel dove back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin just as the door opened. His last sight before clamping his eyes shut was his sister feigning sleep.

“See.” His step-mother’s voice. “Sound asleep. You worry too much.” Her fading footfalls told Gabriel she had returned to her room, but he never heard his door close. He chanced a peek through his eyelashes and saw a blurred version of his father standing in the doorway, just watching them. After what seemed like forever, his father brushed the back of his hand across his cheek and closed the door.

“Hannah,” Gabe whispered after all had been quiet for awhile, but there was no answer. “Hannah!” Nothing. His eyes started to burn and the fear filled his chest, suffocating him. Covering his face with the covers, he muted the sounds of weeping and tried to tell himself everything would be all right. His lips formed the words over and over again. “Everything will be all right. Everything will be all right.” The mantra mixed with his emotional exhaustion finally lulled him to sleep.

A loud clanging noise startled him from his dreams. Gabe sprung up, his hands covering his ears against the offensive racket. His step-mother stood in their doorway, banging a wooden spoon on an iron pot. “Wake up! Wake up! Important day today, my doves. Put on your finest, for we are going on a journey.”

After he and his sister dressed in silence, they made their way into their father’s workshop. They found him as he always was in his waking state: hunched over a clock or pocket watch, peering through his special work glasses, each side held three separate magnifying lenses affixed to tiny arms fanned above the frames like bizarre eyebrows. Some of the very tiny watch parts could only be properly seen with magnification.

“Father?” Hannah began in her small voice. “Where are we going today?”

Oscar looked up from his work, and Gabriel had to suppress a laugh. One of his father’s eyes looked four times as big as the other through his work glasses. It felt good to smile, but Gabe’s smile quickly turned into a sinking feeling. He wished he had laughed out loud instead of holding it in, for that might be his final feeling of joy for quite some time.

“Your mother is taking you for a special treat! A picnic in the forest, just the three of you. She’s even made a fresh pie to enjoy,” he said, removing the glasses. His eyes were rimmed red, as if he hadn’t slept all night. The bottom lid filled with tears, reflecting Gabriel’s own eyes. He turned to his sister and saw her tears streaming down her cheeks, so Gabe bit his lip and swallowed hard, determined to be strong for Hannah. Whatever was going to happen today, they would be together.

Their father gathered them up in his arms and squeezed them tight. Upon seeing his father’s small bin of extra and broken watch gears, Gabriel suddenly had an idea. While still grasped desperately by their father in his farewell embrace, Gabe reached out and grabbed a handful of small brass cogs and pocketed them.

“Children!” Their step-mother’s shrill voice entered the room just before she did. “Time to go. Come on. It will be a fine treat. I’ve packed some little morsels for a nice picnic. It’s a lovely day, but it will take us much time to get there, so we must leave now.”

“Why are we dressed up for a picnic in the woods? Won’t we get our fine clothes dirty?” Gabriel knew exactly why, but he just couldn’t resist saying something.

The hard woman clenched her jaw and her eyes glared at them for a moment before softening. “It is a game, my duck. We are going to enjoy the day like we are rich and have not a care in the world. It shall be like a holiday.” Although her voice was pleasant and her expression gentle for a change, when her bony hand clamped down on Gabriel’s and Hannah’s shoulders, her fingers dug in deep, urging them along without another word.

As they followed their step-mother into the woods, Gabriel held his sister’s hand, squeezing it affectionately every time he heard her sniffle. With his free hand, he held the watch gears, dropping one every ten steps. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten, drop. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten, drop. This helped keep his mind focused and the fear at bay, for he knew his horrid step-mother meant to leave them alone in the woods. But he’d show her. They would follow the path of cogs back home, and their father would be so glad to see them that he will hug them and kiss their heads. Then he would throw that horrid witch out on her oversized bustle. One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten, drop.

But the time came that Gabe ran out of cogs and they kept walking. He watched his step-mother’s determined gait just ahead of them, and he tried to pay attention to his surroundings, but all the trees looked the same after awhile.

They came to a clearing in the woods, and their step-mother stopped short. She told them to spread out the blanket she had carried under her arm while she went to find some firewood, for the air was a tad nippy and stung the sweat gathering around Gabriel’s collar.

“I’ll go with you,” Gabriel said.

“No, you stay here with your sister. Here–” She pulled a small parcel wrapped up in a napkin out of her basket and handed it to Gabriel. “Share with your sister.”

Gabe unwrapped it, expecting to see the fresh pie Father had spoken of, but it was just two crusts of bread spread with some congealed honey. Same as usual. The crusts that no one else wanted, this was her treat for them.

“Please don’t go, mummy,” Hannah said through her tears. Gabe knew she was really scared if she was calling that witch ‘mummy.’ She was not their real mother, for no mother would abandon her children out in the forest. Father married this harpy a year after their real mother had died. Didn’t make it through the winter because she gave most of her share of the food to her children. Although Hannah is too young to remember much of her, she still knew this hard woman before them was no nurturing mother. Hannah was terrified, and for good reason. She hadn’t stopped crying the entire way there. For hours they had walked, and now her fear was also mixed with exhaustion.

“Why are you crying, Hannah? Here. Let us play a game before I gather wood. We’re still warm enough from the walk, but the air is chill. We will cool down soon enough, and you will wish for a fire. But no matter, we shall play a game first. How about Hide & Go Seek?”

“Yes!” Hannah exclaimed, smiling. “Let’s! You can be ‘IT,’ and me and Gabe will hide.”

“Gabe and I,” their step-mother corrected.

“Yes, Gabe and I will hide.”

“That would be no fun, for I am much more clever than you are. It would be harder for you to find me, besides, I wouldn’t want you two to get lost in the woods while hiding.”

“You’re really not going to leave us here?” Hannah said.

“Silly child! Where did you ever get such an idea? Now, be a good girl and close your eyes. You, too, Gabriel. Close them tight. That’s right, put your hands over your eyes. No peeking!” Gabriel felt her bony hand on his shoulder and she began turning him around and around until he thought he might fall down. “Now, count to thirty while I hide. No peeking!”

“But–” Hannah said between her wrists.

“Fret not, my duck. I shall keep you both in sight. Count to thirty.”

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven….” Gabriel listened closely to the sound of her footsteps as they got further and further away. He did not count all the way to thirty. When he could no longer hear her rustling in the fallen leaves, he uncovered his eyes and looked all around.

They were alone.

Please read the rest of the story on my blog, Caught in the Cogs.

You can also listen to “Hannah & Gabriel,” as well as other stories on my fiction podcast at Caught in the Cogs.

Book & Tiara Giveaway

But before you go read the rest of the story, please enter the contest to win an author-signed copy of The Zombies of Mesmer and this lovely clock-hand tiara (pictured above) by leaving a comment and asking me a question below. In addition to this giveaway, I’m running several more this week during my blog tour, so please visit my blog for the full schedule and links.


O. M. Grey
Author. Poet. Romantic.

http://omgrey.wordpress.com


http://twitter.com/omgrey

About AVALON REVISITED~
Arthur Tudor has made his existence as a vampire bearable for over three hundred years by immersing himself in blood and debauchery. Aboard an airship gala, he meets Avalon, an aspiring vampire slayer who sparks fire into Arthur’s shriveled heart. Together they try to solve the mystery of several horrendous murders on the dark streets of London. Cultures clash and pressures rise in this sexy Steampunk Romance.

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Today we welcome Bec McMaster.

Award-winning author Bec McMaster lives in a small town in Australia and grew up with her nose in a book. A member of RWA, she writes sexy, dark paranormals and steampunk romance. When not writing, reading, or poring over travel brochures, she loves spending time with her very own hero or daydreaming about new worlds. For more information, please visit
http://www.becmcmaster.com/
or follow her on Twitter, @BecMcMaster.

What’s in a name?

 by Bec McMaster

Thanks to Suzanne for inviting me here! Today I wanted to talk a little bit about how my novel, Kiss of Steel, came to be.

One of the things that makes me smile since release is how many readers see Kiss of Steel in a different light. It’s paranormal. No, it’s steampunk. Its listed in the horror section. Um, someone put romance in it… So I’m here to clear up precisely what Kiss of Steel is.

Here’s the thing. I write the story that comes to me and worry about the genre specifics later. The one constant in my stories that it will have romance in it and belong in some sort of spec-fic world, whether that be paranormal-based, dystopian or urban fantasy. I didn’t actually know what Kiss of Steel was until I’d nearly finished myself. There was never a definite, “I’m going to write a steampunk or a paranormal romance”, though I do appreciate that it can fit in both camps and hopefully draw readers in who might not otherwise read it.

When the story and the world hit me (does anyone else get these movies-in-their-head too?), it was almost fully formed. It had vampires and a vague precursor to werewolves. It also had a ruling elite who were infected with a virus that made them crave blood (No, they’re not the vampires. Yet.). In order to protect themselves from the masses after the French turned on their blood-driven aristocracy, they turned to technology to create an enormous automaton army and weapons.

The world was definitely Victorian. I needed a time period when technology was coming to the forefront and certain medical theories were already in place. That was probably my first indication that I was heading down the steampunk path.

The thing with paranormal worlds is that I see them as based on some sort of magic or curse-driven mechanic. There is no magic or paranormal platform in Kiss of Steel, though I appreciate that I’m taking a paranormal-trope and running with it. My vampires are scientific-based, with a virus causing all of their ‘supernatural’ abilities. I had more interest in the craving virus being of a biological nature, rather than a magical one. Perhaps it’s my interest in the whole Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde type stories or Frankenstein. Mad doctors, experiments, monsters…

So as you can see, this is why I refer to Kiss as steampunk romance. There are no dirigibles (not in this part of the world or the first book) but technically there are no paranormal elements either by the definition I’ve provided. And the point is… that none of it matters. From what I can tell my readers come from diverse camps and enjoy different aspects of the story.  Some come just for the cover (seriously, you would not believe how many readers follow famous cover model Paul Marron!). As a writer the only time I truly needed to categorise was when it came to shopping to agents or editors.

One of the things that I love about the genre as a whole is that it can be so fluid and genre-bending. I’ve read steampunk with strong horror elements and enjoyed it. I’ve also read it with paranormal or fantasy highlights. The idea that the sky is the limit is incredibly appealing to me and that whole sense of adventure is what I love the most about steampunk.

So what about you? Any great steampunk stories out there with a dash of something else thrown in? Which genre mash-ups do you like best?

~Bec McMaster


http://www.becmcmaster.com/

KISS OF STEEL BY BEC MCMASTER – IN STORES SEPTEMBER 2012

A brilliantly creative debut where vampires, werewolves, and clockwork creatures roam the mist–shrouded streets of London…

When Nowhere is Safe

Most people avoid the dreaded Whitechapel district. For Honoria Todd, it’s the last safe haven. But at what price?

Blade is known as the master of the rookeries—no one dares cross him. It’s been said he faced down the Echelon’s army single–handedly, that ever since being infected by the blood–craving he’s been quicker, stronger, and almost immortal.

When Honoria shows up at his door, his tenuous control comes close to snapping. She’s so…innocent. He doesn’t see her backbone of steel—or that she could be the very salvation he’s been seeking.

 

 

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Today we welcome Ray Dean!

A reenactor and educator, Ray Dean has delved into many eras of the past, but Steampunk speaks to her in a retroactive futurism that opens so many possibilities. Her blog, My Ethereality 
http://www.raydean.net
, explores history, culture, war and love in eras and countries that might influence a Steampunk world

Countries… Culture… the Wicking Effect

by Raye Dean

When someone brings up Steampunk, most people immediately call up an image of bowler hats, bustles, monocles, corsets, goggles. Then next concept is Victorian alternative history/speculative fiction… and by saying Victorian… the initial connection is England. No argument there for me. I’ve had a longtime love affair with English history, especially the Victorian Era mainly because I have a long history in theater and costume, nuff said.

Still, there’s more to the world of Steampunk than a single country or culture. One of the clearest memories of High School was arguing England’s POV on Colonialism in a debate. Part of the mindset of my argument that England was seeking to, in a way, make the world England. The underlying idea for me was that making the world over in its own image was to make it something they could understand. Foreign was fine for quaint pieces of furniture, luxurious fabrics, spices and wild creatures fit for menageries, but it wasn’t England.

Colonialism is impossible in its purest sense. There is no way to take control of another country and its people without having ‘the Wicking Effect.’ What do I mean by that? I used to hand paint silk and when you add a color onto the fabric it will spread and continue to spread until it hits the end of the fabric or the wall of resist that the artist adds. Add another color to the mix and they’ll spread and mix and change together. The same happens with culture.

Put an Englishman in China, even if he continues to observe all the societal norms and keeps himself as ‘separate’ as possible, there is no way to avoid some sort of exchange of culture. Perhaps a Jasmine tea will become a favorite of his or he’ll use a silk fabric for his waistcoat that has a design motif common for the area. The locals in the area will change as well. They will pick up on his inflection, learn what his habits are and try as they might to avoid absorbing some of it… it will happen.

In the Shanghai Steam anthology this mixing or clash of cultures is a main point of a number of stories.

Derwin Mak (the author of “Flying Devils”) explains:

Steampunk tends to romanticize European culture and its technology of the nineteenth century. I heard one steampunk costumer say it was “nobler period.” Well, it was for some people. It was a nobler period than today if you were a white European who left Europe’s slums and colonized another continent. If you were African, Asian, or Native American, it wasn’t as glorious. The Chinese do not romanticize the nineteenth century as a golden era. Instead, it was the time of national humiliation and the uneven treaties.

I merged the two opposing views of the nineteenth century by basing my story on the Self-Strengthening Movement in the Chinese military. My story is about one of the ideological conflicts of the time.

In my own story, “Fire in the Sky,” I had set up my own alternative history:

There are more walls than wick as the English are viewed as an economic occupying force. The people that occupy the town have had to accomodate not only the English trade ships but the technology that came with them. In my opinion, there are few absolutes. In the case of the technology brought in by the English, there are those that accept it and those that turn their back on it, but even those that are eager to advance themselves with technology… it doesn’t always work for them. For me part of the fun of this mix and clash of cultures is the accomodations that have to be made. And when accomodations don’t work? You salvage what you can… and make do.

Emily Mah (author of “Last Flight of the Lóng Qíshì”) has another take on merging cultures:

Since mine’s post apocalyptic, much of the Chinese culture is only left in the aesthetics of the old technologies. The culture that inhabits the ruins left behind is a mix of different ethnicities who live as hunter/gatherers.

This isn’t just limited to the English in their travels and expansions. The concept of foreign also applies to immigrants.

Laurel Anne Hill (author of “Moon-Flame Woman”) had a different perspective:

The tremendous contribution of Chinese workers in the building of the U.S. Transcontinental Railway never ceases to impress me.  Yet nineteenth-century Chinese laborers in the United States didn’t receive the respect they deserved.  Immigrants were–and still are–often viewed as stereotypes.  I wrote Moon-Flame Woman to depict immigrants as individuals.

Americans seemed to absorb other cultures faster, giving them footholds where a country like England wouldn’t see fit. A number of dishes that Americans ate during the same period were not from China. The Chinese cooks in America would throw together whatever odds and ends were around and earned itself a place in American stomachs and on many menus. The commonly accepted history of the ‘chop suey’ you see on modern menus comes from this very practice. Perhaps this hodge podge worked better in America because the country, as it was shaping up, was more of an immigrant nation.

When the Shanghai Steam anthology is released you’ll have the opportunity to delve into the nineteen short stories that add up to a unique Steampunk… and Wuxia… experience. As you read through the stories look for those moments when cultures crash and/or bleed into each other. Keep careful watch… one culture may just push back.

What cultures would you like to see come crashing into one another? What types of culture bleeds might happen when two foreign nations interact? Where can you add this idea into your own work?

Contributing Authors listed in alphabetical order:

Ray Dean “Fire in the Sky”  
http://www.raydean.net

Lauren Anne Hill “Moon-Flame Woman”    
http://www.laurelannehill.com/

Emily Mah “Last Flight of the Long Qishi”  
http://www.emilymah.com

Derwin Mak “Flying Devils” 
http://www.derwinmaksf.com

~Raye Dean

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Today we welcome the incredible Kiki Hamilton.

Kiki Hamilton is the author of the YA historical fantasy series THE FAERIE RING. Book 1, THE FAERIE RING and Book 2, THE TORN WING are both out now. Book 3, THE SEVEN YEAR KING releases in May of 2013.

 

Writing Historical Fantasy

by Kiki Hamilton

Thanks for inviting me over to STEAMED! Though I’m not a writer of steampunk fiction, I do write historical fantasy (THE FAERIE RING (2011) and THE TORN WING (2012) )which has some notable similarities with steampunk, such as life in the Victorian era.

One of the questions I’m frequently asked is how much research do I have to do for my books?  The short answer is A LOT! The longer answer is that I do spend quite a bit of time researching Victorian England, as well as British faerie lore, but luckily, I find it fascinating. The goal of any writer who sets their story in the Victorian era is to make the reader feel like they’ve stepped back through time (or taken a time machine…) and are walking the foggy, cobblestone streets of the past along with the characters.

How does one accomplish that?

In my case, it’s a combination of setting, character definition (which includes description, dialogue, backstory and behavior), weaving  fact with fiction, as well as using language that is suitable to the time period.   I’ll share some brief thoughts on each of those below:

Setting

Setting can be much more than the physical attributes of the scene. In some instances, setting can almost become a character within the story. Setting is an opportunity to set a mood. Here’s an excerpt from THE FAERIE RING that I like:

“The World’s End had a packed house tonight. The wooden plank floor of the pub was slick with spilled ale and the rich, yeasty smell of beer hung thick in the air. A row of sailors sat shoulder to shoulder along the wooden bar, hunched over their drinks as though fearful their glasses would be snatched away. Big mirrors lined the walls, etched with the names of ales or whiskeys, reflecting the bright lights in the room as well as the cloud of tobacco smoke. Barmaids and prostitutes, with their skirts partially tucked up in their waistbands, worked their way through the thick crowd milling between the full tables, smiling and joking with the customers. The tinkling notes of a piano were a backdrop to the cacophony of accents that clashed above it all, like an instrument with several strings out of tune.”

Hopefully, the reader can see the interior of the pub, along with the patrons, can smell the spilled ale, can hear the notes of the piano and feels immersed in this world.

Character Definition

This is a critical part of any story.  Characters need to be described in a way that is suitable to the era. Character definition is an opportunity to further immerse the reader into another era. Dress, language,  backstory and motivations each play a part in creating  a mental image for the reader.  Tying each of those to the time period reinforces the setting and mood you’ve established.

Weaving Fact with Fiction

For me, this is one of the most enjoyable parts of writing THE FAERIE RING series – finding ways to weave actual history with the fantasy story I’m telling.  I like to think of the books as ‘what if…’ stories which is similar to the alternate timelines that many steampunk novels employ.

Anachronistic Terms

Using language that is suitable to the timeframe is an important piece in creating the world of your novel.  Using language or terms that are too modern for a Victorian setting (anachronistic) is one of the fastest ways to pull your reader out of the ‘dream’ and remind them that they’re reading and not living your story.

So, that’s a quick look at some of the considerations I put into writing historical fantasy.  Hope you found it interesting and helpful! Any others we should add to the list?

~Kiki Hamilton


http://www.kikihamilton.com


http://www.thefaeriering.com

 

 

 

 

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First off, the winner of the book CUTTLEFISH is:

Widdershins

If you enjoy reading steampunk, you’ve probably read Mark Hodder (Burton and Swinburne series).

His new book A Red Sun Also Rises which releases in December 2012 from PYR is independent of the Burton and Swinburne books, but is just as fascinating and creative.

This is a tale exploring good and evil and how nothing (or anyone) is as it seems.  Aiden Fleischer is a bookish priest and Clarissa an outcast hunchback who are transported to an alien world. There they encounter the Yatsil, a supposedly peaceful race of mimics. Then the red sun rises, bringing with it the forces of destruction.

Hodder’s twisted take on an alien version of Victorian London is vivid and imaginative, while the psychological twists and turns push the genre with amazing results.

But don’t take my word for it. PYR will graciously give away three ARCS of A Red Sun Also Rises to give away (North American only) and I’ll give away my own ARC to an international winner. Contest closes October 7th at 11:59 PM PST.

If you lived on an alien world that could shape itself to any place  in any time, which would you chose and why?

 

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Drumroll, please…

Here is the cover for Moonlight and Mechanicals, a Gaslight Chronicles novel, coming October 22 from Carina Press.

Image

Now those readers familiar with the Gaslight Chronicles might wonder why Wink, who hates corsets with a passion, is not only wearing one of the infernal devices, but isn’t wearing anything else over it. While a lady who works with machines for a living might be seen in coveralls, she’s still too much of a lady to ever appear in public in her undergarments.

This, I think illustrates one of the problems with the label steampunk. In an alternate history world, there’s always the question of just HOW alternate everything is. In the Gaslight Chronicles, technology and certain social mores are more advanced than they really were in the 1850s, but fashion and most of society is fairly authentic. However, I believe for marketing purposes, the publisher has decided to use a more contemporary steampunk vision on the recent covers. I’m truly curious to see if this works. So any thoughts on this from the readership? Do you like to see your steampunk characters in Victorian ruffles, or modern daring? Something in between? I’d love to know how people feel about this.

In other news, I’ve sent off the manuscript for the fifth Gaslight story, Cards and Caravans which is scheduled for next March. Now I have to tear my brain out of this steampunk world and into another, to finish a partial manuscript for my agent. It’s always interesting and sometimes awkward to switch gears (pun intended) and remember what version of reality you’re righting. This new project is later than the Gaslight books, although so far the rules of the reality are pretty similar. With everything you tweak in a world, you have to think about what has changed in technology, and how that might have changed the people in the world. It’s a new challenge, and I think those are always exciting. So onward and upward…

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So…it’s here.  My fairytale steampunk young adult novel INNOCENT DARKNESS hits shelves Wednesday.  Then it will be officially “in the wild” which is exciting and terrifying all at the same time.

It’s actually already appearing in people’s mailboxes and in bookstores. (If you see it, would you mind Facebooking or tweeting it? If you let me know I’ll send you a bookplate. I’m going to be having a photo contest on my personal blog, so you can win more stuff there, too)

See–

Cute right?

So…who wants to win some prizes?  You know, like these?

So one grand prize winner will win a  fifteen dollar GC to Amazon, B&N OR the Book Depository + Zoe Archer’s SKIES OF FIRE and Nico Rosso’s NIGHT OF FIRE (both from the Ether chronicle series, because series that have “eather” or “aether” in them are awesome) + some buttons & swag in an INNOCENT DARKNESS tote bag.

Four other winners will each win one book + buttons + swag  (Karina Cooper’s LURE OF THE WICKED (signed), Dave Freer’s CUTTLEFISH, THE CLOCKWORK THREE by Matthew J. Kirbyand Kassy Tayler’s ASHES OF TWILIGHT (signed ARC).)

So, what do you have to do? We’re having a caption contest. Write your own caption to the sleeping baby with the book picture (Picture A) and post it in the comments below (or you can send me your altered version at suzannelazear (@)yahool

Or you could write a caption to photo B

Or Photo C

or Photo D

Don’t forget to tell us which photo the caption is for! Keep them clean please! Open internationally. Contest ends August 19th at 11:59 PM pst. One entry per person per photo please (so a max of four entries.)

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First I have a winner to announce.  BBS Used Book Buyers  you have won a copy of Jana Oliver’s The Demon Trapper’s Daughter. Please email me to claim your prize. There’s still time to win God Save the Queen by Kate Locke.

Now, on to today’s guest. Today we welcome Coleen Kwan, who’s first steampunk romance Asher’s Invention just released from Carina Press on Tuesday! ~launches cupcake canonon~

Coleen Kwan has been bookworm all her life. At school English was her favorite subject, but for some reason she decided on a career in IT. After many years of programming, she wondered what else there was in life — and discovered writing. She loves writing contemporary romance whether it’s sweet or sensual. She lives in Sydney with her partner and two children. When  not writing,she enjoys avoiding housework, eating chocolate, and watching The Office. Visit her at
http://www.coleenkwan.com

 

A Greek Inventor and a Famous Chef

by Coleen Kwan 

Thanks for having me on your blog today!

 When I started writing steampunk, I found I had to do a lot more research than I realised. Now, research is a great way to put off actual writing, and it can also be fascinating.  As I trawled through the internet I stumbled upon some intriguing tidbits which I’d never known about.

Take the steam engine, for example. From my school days eons ago I assumed that the steam engine was invented around the turn of the eighteenth century by a Scottish engineer. Turns out an ancient Greek is credited with inventing the world’s first steam engine. Hero of Alexandria lived in the 1st century AD. He built the aeolipile, a steam-powered turbine.

 

 The aeolipile consists of a sphere which can rotate on its axis and has nozzles bent in opposite directions. Water is heated, either inside the sphere or in a boiler below, and the resulting steam shoots out the nozzles, which creates torque and drives the sphere which then starts rotating. It’s not known whether Hero’s aeolipile was put to any practical use, or whether it was just an interesting curiosity, but it’s definitely a steam engine.

 The aeolipile wasn’t Hero’s only invention. He also created automatons which he used to mount a fully automated play complete with special effects like fire and thunder. He also invented a vending machine which dispensed holy water when a user deposited a coin into a slot! This man was seriously gifted.

 From steam engines to food. How much food did the average 19th century epicure eat? In Alexis Soyer’s ‘The Modern Housewife’ (published 1849) he details a list of average daily meals:

“BREAKFAST.––Three quarters of a pint of coffee, four ounces of bread, one ounce of butter, two eggs, or four ounces of meat, or four ounces of fish.
“LUNCH.––Two ounces of bread, two ounces of meat, or poultry, or game, two ounces of vegetables, and a half pint of beer, or a glass of wine.
“DINNER.––Half a pint of soup, a quarter of a pound of fish, half a pound of meat, a quarter of a pound of poultry, a quarter of a pound of savory dishes or game, two ounces of vegetables, two ounces of bread, two ounces of pastry or roasts, half an ounce of cheese, a quarter of a pound of fruit, one pint of wine, one glass of liqueur, one cup of coffee or tea; at night one glass of spirits and water.”

It’s also interesting to note the huge variety of food that was eaten in those times. They ate pigeons, partridges, grouse, plovers, teals, peacocks, deer, eels, turtle, hares, and a huge variety of fish.

Soyer was one of the most celebrated cooks in Victorian England. During the Great Irish Famine of 1847 he invented a soup kitchen in Dublin which dispensed soup for free to thousands of starving poor people.

So, a Greek inventor and a famous chef — just two of the interesting tidbits I uncovered during the writing of my first steampunk romance.

 ~Coleen Kwan


http://www.coleenkwan.com

 

Asher’s Invention

Five years ago, Asher Quigley broke his engagement to Minerva Lambkin, believing she was an accomplice in a scheme to steal his prototype for a wondrous device. Minerva swore she was innocent, though the thief—and Asher’s mentor—was her own father.

Now, sheer desperation has driven Minerva to Asher’s door. Her father has been kidnapped by investors furious that he’s never been able to make the machine work. Only Asher, now a rich and famous inventor in his own right, can replicate the device. He’s also become a hard, distant stranger far different from the young idealist she once loved.

Despite their troubled past, Asher agrees to help Minerva. He still harbors his suspicions about her, but their reunion stirs emotions and desires they both thought were buried forever. Can they rebuild their fragile relationship in time to save her father and their future together?

Purchase Asher’s Invention at

Carina Press
http://bit.ly/KEP0io

Amazon
http://amzn.to/IpClNx

Amazon UK
http://amzn.to/Id8RZq

Barnes & Noble
http://bit.ly/IavZXG

iTunes
http://bit.ly/M2VD0C

 

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Today we welcome back author Christine Bell.

Christine Bell is one half of the happiest couple in the world. She and her handsome hubby currently reside in Pennsylvania with a four-pack of teenage boys and their two dogs, Gimli and Pug. If she gets time off from her duties as maid, chef, chauffeur, or therapist, she can be found reading just about anything she can get her hands on, from Young Adult novels to books on poker theory. She doesn’t like root beer, clowns or bugs (except ladybugs, on account of their cute outfits), but lurrves chocolate, going to the movies, the New York Giants and playing Texas Hold ‘Em. Writing is her passion, but if she had to pick another occupation, she would be a pirate…or, like, a ninja maybe. She loves writing fun and adventure-filled romance stories, but also hopes to one day publish something her dad can read without wanting to dig his eyes out with rusty spoons.

The Bewitching Tale of Stormy Gale

by Christine Bell

Very excited to be back here at Steamed! Doubly excited because the second installment of my Stormy Gale series came out on May 28th! I’m celebrating with a big contest, so be sure to read the end of this post for details.

The Bewitching Tale of Stormy Gale starts off in Victorian London (in the steampunk tradition) but then takes us further back, to a time shortly after the Salem Witch Trials. Having grown up in New England, I’m fairly obsessed with this strange slice of American History. If you’ve ever been to New England during the fall or winter, the nights feel positively ripe for witches. The bare trees’ clawing silhouettes lit by a fat, milky moon that you almost expect to wink at you against from its perch in the inky night sky.  Man, it feels soooo witchy. I’m convinced that such an occurrence could never have happened in, say, San Diego. It required a perfect soup of events and the locale had to play a part. Aside from my proximity to Salem growing up, I also always felt that this phenomenon was both a fascinating display of vagaries of the human psychology and a heartrending tale of fear and loss. What better place for a story? And I always knew that if I did a time travel story that would be one of the places I’d take it. The most excellent part is that it feels like such a natural extension of the steampunk aesthetic. A dark, grey pallor hanging over a village in the wake of horror and mayhem. People not trusting one another or themselves. Throw into this historical period some gadgetry that shouldn’t be there and then sit back to witness the subsequent reactions of the townspeople as they search for a possible explanation.  It was like chocolate and peanut butter for the mind. Mmmm…Reeses.

*wipes drool*

At any rate, rather than be tied to the framework of the original trials thereby having to subject my characters to horrors I truly couldn’t stomach (I learned more than I ever wanted to know in my research and, friends, the word horror is an understatement), or being woefully historically inaccurate, I fast forwarded a handful of years. I found this allowed me to scale back some of the truly heinous behavior in an organic way as many of the townspeople would be more tentative at first for fear of making the same mistake twice still theorize that, if the stars aligned just right (or wrong, in this case), we could again fall victim to a similar situation.  I believe that is true. I believe that, in the right cauldron of fear and intolerance, the Salem Witch Trials could happen again because when people get into a pack state of mind? Well, we do stuff that is stone cold crazy sometimes. That’s the thing I kept coming back to. These people who had a hand in the atrocities. Were they ALL evil? I don’t think they were and I hope I did the townsfolk of Salem right in giving most of them some humanity, while still condemning the actions of many. So you tell me, steampunk lovers: Do you think something similar to The Salem Witch Trials could ever happen again? Do you think that steampunk and witches are a match made in heaven or do you like your chocolate sans peanut butter? And lastly, do you find the topic of Salem as fascinating as I do?

Check out an excerpt of the book, and don’t forget, stick around for the giveaway at the end!

The cold was relentless, and every frigid breath sent a bolt of pain through my chest. I huddled into the corner, curling myself into a tight ball. Only a few more hours until daylight. It would be warmer then. A rattling cough shuddered upward and I covered my mouth quickly with a trembling arm.

“Jayzus, will you stop with the bloody coughing, you inconsiderate bitch? I’ve been up half the night making the quid to buy you that loaf of bread, and this is what I get.” My mother’s voice was slurred as she called down from the bed.

Loaf, my arse. The crust she’d thrown me had barely been enough to bother chewing. If she’d made any coin on her back that night, she’d drunk the profits soon after. But I was sick, and my ear still rang from the blow she’d delivered the night before, so I held my tongue. The wind howled and sent an arctic blast under the rickety door. I tried to hold my breath, to keep it in, but it was no use. Coughs racked my body, ruthless in their intensity and seemingly without end. But even over the sound of my barking lungs, I could hear her shifting, moving…the impatient sigh, the muttered curse, and finally the bed rustling as she leapt to her feet.

Panic warred with the need for breath and I buried my face in my sleeve. It was no use. A moment and one swift jerk later, I was on my back staring up at her, silhouetted in the silvery moonlight. Her hair was a wild mass around her shoulders as her mad, almost feverish eyes burned into mine like coals. She gripped my shoulders, nails digging deep through my threadbare nightshirt. Her hot, foul breath washed over my face as she screamed, “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. The mantra ran through my aching head as she shook and shook

and shook… My vision blurred and faded. Then I was Bacon, shivering on the stone floor of Ipswitch Jail. My mother’s features morphed into those of a crone, her sneering mouth twisting into a gaping maw, her nose a disfigured hook.

“Wake up, love. It’s all right now,” a gentle voice crooned in my ear.

Warm, familiar fingers replaced the icy talons on my shoulder. I surfaced, sucking in a breath that made my chest ache with remembered pain. My teeth chattered as I tried to speak. “We need more wood on the fire. P-Please.” The pitiful weakness of my voice sickened me and I turned my face away to peer out the window into the gray light of morning.

“Shhh. Give me one second. Let me hold you.”

Annnd, end scene! Now, if you want to enter the contest, all you have to do is comment on this post. Tomorrow at 8:00 pm EST, we’ll pick two random winners. One will receive the Stormy Gale gift pack which includes a digital copy of the series, a set of Stormy Gale trading cards, pen, magnet and a $10 Amazon or B&N gift certificate so you can load up on some more steampunk! The second place winner will get a digital copy of The Bewitching Tale of Stormy Gale in whatever format they prefer.

~Christine Bell
www.christine-bell.com

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Having spent all day today (Tuesday) working on the final edits for Moonlight & Mechanicals, coming in October of this year, I’m definitely in a steampunk state of mind. Earlier this week I drafted proposals for two new steampunk romance novels, so I’m on a roll, which feels awfully darned good!

I’m also excited to be attending and speaking at the World Steam Expo in Dearborn, Michigan this weekend, and have been mulling over my costume options for days. (okay, maybe weeks–I love playing dress-up!) There are some wonderful main author guests, including Gail Carriger, but I’m delighted to be part of a local author panel on Monday, with the fabulous Seleste DeLaney, Steven Harper, and David Erik Nelson. Hopefully we can show the world that southern Michigan is a force to be reckoned with in the steampunk world. If you’re in the area, I hope you’ll think about dropping by and saying hello. I hope to have a full report from the Con for my next blog.

The icing on my steam-covered cake, however, is the upcoming release of Book 3 of my Gaslight Chronicles series, Kilts & Kraken from Carina Press. The book releases on Monday, June 4, but you can preorder it now at Carina, Amazon, or Barnes & Noble. It’s also available as part of Carina’s anniversary collection: Editor’s Choice: Volume I.

Here’s the blurb, for your enjoyment, and a tiny little excerpt to whet your appetite. (Calamari, anyone?)

Kilts & Kraken

by Cindy Spencer Pape

Blurb: Magnus, Baron Findlay, longs to bring the wonders of the steam age to his remote island home, but his hands are full fighting the vicious kraken ravaging the coast. When he’s swept to sea during battle and washes up on the shore of an isle in the Hebrides, he is near death.

 Struggling to establish herself as one of the first female physicians in Edinburgh, Dr. Geneva MacKay is annoyed when The Order of the Round Table sends her north to care for an injured highlander. To heal him, Geneva escorts the handsome warrior home, just in time to defend the villagers from another onslaught.

As the attacks escalate and they work together to fight off the threat, neither Geneva nor Magnus can resist the overwhelming attraction between them. But as their relationship deepens, a new threat arises – from within the village itself…

(PG excerpt: book is hard R)

The darkness tried to drag Magnus back into its depths and he had little will to fight. It was comforting, this darkness, warm and free of pain. You’ve struggled enough, it seemed to whisper, let go.

He would have, but for another voice, one not as subtle but far more sweet. “Come now, sir. Open your eyes for me.”

Magnus tried. The rich, feminine voice held the soft burr of a lowlander, with educated overtones. How had such a one come to his island? How had he not known? He was laird of Torkholm, and all who came here had to be approved by him.

“Who are you, sir? Won’t you at least wake and tell me your name?” Soft, cool fingers stroked Magnus’s forehead.

He moved his lips to answer the lass. From the silkiness of her touch and the sweet scent of her leaning over him, he might have thought her an angel, but he knew better. Dead in battle or not, he’d have never ended up in Heaven. A valkyrie, perhaps? The Valhalla of his Norse ancestors was a far more likely fate for him than the vicar’s pearly gates.

“His heart rate and breathing are weaker,” the sweet voice said. “I’m worried, Alice. He didn’t wake at all last night. Though his wounds haven’t festered, he seems to be losing strength.”

“He’s in God’s hands,” said another female voice, a little older, a little deeper, and oddly familiar. A door opened and closed, but he still felt the touch of strong, feminine hands, the fingers laced with his own.

At long last Magnus was able to unglue the lashes on one eyelid. The light in the room blinded him for a moment, but his vision adjusted and soon he was able to see. A woman sat by his bedside, her flowing hair the color of his favorite roan stallion. Her fingers tightened on his as she realized he’d woken. “T-Torkholm,” he gasped between lips as cracked as a mud path on a hot day.

The lass—pretty in a strong, country sort of way—pressed him down when he tried to sit. “Your hip is injured. Don’t move.” With her other hand, she held a water-filled sponge to his lips. “Only a little to start with.”

The cool liquid felt wonderful on his parched lips, but a single sip was all he could manage. He blinked again, this time both eyes focusing on her. “Magnus Findlay.” His name seemed to be dragged from his lips. Pain seared through him from more places than he could name, and he’d never once felt this weak. What was wrong? Why hadn’t the island healed him, as it always did?

He blinked again and the answer swam into focus, for a moment at least. This was a strange room—one he’d never seen before. Magnus sagged back against the woman’s arm, and let her ease him down to the pillows. The darkness began to close in again. One thought registered, ringing through his brain.

He wasn’t on Torkholm. He was going to die.

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