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More Places I’ve Been (Links Roundup)

I’ve got a couple of guest blogs and interviews that went up over the weekend/yesterday. Go check them out!

I’m on Daily Dose of Decadence talking about writing and video games.

At Bee-Yond Midnight I’m sharing my writing process.

And at The Book Imp, why I love science fiction and 6 of my favorite SF universes.

Annnnndddd… I think that’s about it! If you read my twitter, you’ll know I am currently busy wallowing in misery over finally having played the end of Mass Effect 3. I swear I haven’t felt this bummed out since Harry Potter book 7 came out. I hate when things I love are over. So please feel free to send cookies or cheer during this time of mourning.

 

 

Unsecure Connection Link Roundup

I have a few interviews and guest blogs floating around out there, so here they are in one place if you’re interested. There will be a few more coming up this weekend, so I’ll update with the links soon! I am giving away a free copy of Unsecure Connection to a random commenter, so go ahead and leave your email–any blog!

 

21st May http://www.faridamestek.blogspot.com

22nd May http://www.taralain.com/blog.html

23rd May http://desmondhaas.com/

24th May http://honeybeeauthors.blogspot.co.uk/

 

Guys! I’m on Amazon!

Alanna (apparently) listens to The Chronic and ignores the 629 unread items in her RSS reader while geekily screenshotting her first appearance on Amazon

I feel like kind of a big deal now. Well, not really. I know anyone can put a book on Amazon. But this one is my novella. And it is cool.

And you can go see for yourself right here!

 

Unsecure Connection: First Scene

In honor of this (finally!) releasing on Friday, enjoy the first half of the first chapter of the story. In other words, the first scene. In which our intrepid heroine is hacking a database. But UNBEKNOWNST TO HER she is being stalked by our determined hero.

Buy at Decadent Publishing | Buy at Amazon.com | Buy at Barnes & Noble | Buy at AllRomance

 

Dark city.

Night had fallen on Tarrytown, at the far north end of the urban sprawl that had once been known as Manhattan. Here, where the vacant hulks of old buildings crumbled and moisture dripped from the shadowy rusted beams. Where the city moldered and you could see the fires burning in barrels in the very lowest levels where people camped. Those who lived here were the people the corporations forgot, as they gradually consolidated and closed up the buildings and moved south. It was the sort of neighborhood that smelled like wet metal and Chinese food. No one looked each other in the eye. Heads down, they skirted the boarded-up buildings. You wouldn’t even know if interspace gangsters and illegal tech vendors and credit scammers passed you in the street. You wouldn’t know them if they were your next-door neighbor.

Riley Janecek, in her drafty loft on the third level, wasn’t interested in any of it. She leaned back in her chair, wearing a pair of goggles that emitted a blue glow. Her fingers moved in the air in front of her, ghostly pale and blue in the light, typing words on a keyboard that didn’t exist.

But that wasn’t strictly true. It existed to her, when she had the goggles on, anyway. It was a virtual keyboard interface. Moving through chunks of code and pages and pages of data, her fingers flitted at a speed she barely noticed. She was deep in SpectreTek’s private corporate database. There were massive amounts of data, too much for a human to sort through in a lifetime of lifetimes. She had three worms working for her, which she monitored through the data stream that sat off to the side, to the left of her vision.

Her earpiece pinged, one of the alarms she’d set. She sketched her fingers across the empty air and pulled up the list of results. She’d set the worm to scan for a certain set of keywords. Boom. There it is. Her eyes skimmed the data, verifying the highlighted words.

Her lips cracked into an involuntary grin. She had it! Twenty-eight minutes deep in the system and she hadn’t triggered anything. Her security workaround had really done it this time. She tapped to begin downloading the passwords to her personal system. Her client would be pleased. Like, twenty thousand dollars worth of pleased.

That was a whole hell of a lot of pleased. She could get another implant. Or she could get some furniture. Riley set her goggles to transparent view to see her dingy apartment while monitoring the data download on the right side of her vision. The numbers, set to a shade of green that she had decided through trial and error was the least tough on her eyes, cascaded over her actual surroundings. Twenty thousand, Riley mused, could get a bed frame instead of a futon. A stove instead of a hot plate. It could also get some heat in here. She shifted in her chair and rubbed the gooseflesh on her thin arms.

The loft still resembled the warehouse it had once been, with tall ceilings that rose up, stark and undecorated above her rickety shelves of computer equipment, and light bulbs that hung bare. Twenty thousand could keep you in noodles and coffee for a long time, Riley thought, as she glanced over the mess of mismatched, half-empty dishware on her desk.

No, definitely the implant. Maybe some new designer accessories for her avatar. She never met clients in real life. What did it matter that there were holes in your jeans, when you were queen of the virtual fucking city? Her penthouse in interspace was lavish, and that was what people saw, not this dump. Her avatar had a level of expensive customization that made people jealous. Yeah, she could fix up this shithole of a loft, if she was ever here.

Riley checked the numbers on her display. The download was at 59 percent. She sighed, sick of looking at her apartment, and tapped over into full view. Watching a data dump scroll across her screen wasn’t exactly exciting, but it made a better impression than four-day-old coffee with something green growing on top of it. She could stop her worms—that was something she could do while she was waiting. She didn’t need them anymore, and two of them were still scanning. She lifted her hands to type the commands.

And then she saw it.

Something moved. Something changed. She examined the numbers, skimming the lines composed of tiny pieces of data. She checked the connection, which was through a backdoor she had created. One that only she, therefore, should know about. Someone was in the system with her.

“Fuck,” she spat, fingers moving in a flurry.

Was it a security protocol or a human? Riley bit her lip. None of her alarms had been triggered. She couldn’t say how she knew there was someone following her, prodding through bits of code, pulling up and discarding sections of the database. It was opening the sections of the system she’d just been in and ignoring the others. Maybe even checking to see what had been changed. A script? No, that wasn’t it. Again, she felt certain of this. It was jumping around in a haphazard way.

It wasn’t anything she could see, exactly. It was…a presence. She wasn’t alone.

Shit. If it was SpectreTek, why hadn’t they jumped on her before? Thirty-two minutes her security workaround had performed fine, and then…what? It just stopped? She ground her teeth together. What if it was a competitor? Someone trying to undercut her, steal her work? Every hacker had rivals. She checked her download, her heart thumping and her blood singing with adrenaline. 76 percent.

Her fingers twitched and flexed. She hated feeling helpless. She hated this. Think, think, think. She called up the files that had been most recently scanned. How was it following her? What was it doing? The other person in the system must have latched onto her worms somehow. He or she was pulling all the same data she’d just been pulling. But, she realized with a smug grin, the other person was doing it manually. That was why his movement through the system hadn’t looked methodical, like her worms.

Which meant he was going a lot slower. Which meant she had time.

She tapped her foot on the floor as the download reached 80 percent, then 90. The numbers seemed to slow to an almost unbearable pace. Everything depended on what the other person in the system wanted to do. Get her data to the client before she could?

Her lips curled. She had a huge head start. She could log onto interspace and make the transfer as soon as the download was at 100 percent. The other person would have to locate the passwords, then wait for his own download and rely on Riley being too lazy to contact the client right away. But what if the person meant to sabotage her? Wanted to interrupt her download?

97 percent. She could almost breathe. Beads of sweat rose on her skin. Her fingers flexed. She held them poised, ready, at the back of her neck. 98 percent. Her fingertips touched cold metal, hovering over the catch.

100 percent. Download complete. She seized the thick cord that protruded from her neck, twisted it, and yanked. It slid from its metal-lined jack, and she exhaled as her interface lost contact with the network and blinked away.

 

Release date now TBD

OK, release of Unsecure Connection didn’t happen on Friday. I will post updated information as soon as I have it. Please hold….

I’m on Daily Dose of Decadence today

I’m talking about realistic characters and getting the right cyberpunk feel for  my story. Also, I’m giving away a copy to a random commenter.

So go check it out and make sure to leave a shout out!

 

Character intro: CJ

Here’s the funny thing about writing a cyberpunk story in which multiple scenes take place in virtual reality. I was searching through the novella to find a good passage that described CJ, my male character, and realized there are two. For my heroine, who has three different appearances including real life and two avatars, it’s even worse.

So, OK. This guy CJ. He’s got some heavy stuff on his plate. He used to be the best hacker in the community. But then he got caught by SpectreTek (the evil corporation). They confiscated all his illegal body modifications (people in my story’s world have data jacks in their necks and flash drives in their arms), and kept him prisoner in a facility in Connecticut Delaware (see what happens when I don’t look facts up in my own book!) until he agreed to work for them. His job? Tracking down his former friends. So he’s kind of a high tech bounty hunter.

But he’s also a prisoner. He has guys who come every week to check up on him. He also has an implant that won’t let him go more than a kilometer from his apartment and will kill him if he tries to remove it. So he’s pretty bitter, as well as scarred–both physically and metaphorically.

Like Riley, his real life appearance is kind of scruffy-looking. Because there need to be more romances about scruffy-looking people, okay??

Here’s a description of CJ from Riley’s POV. It just happens to be during a sexy part. But hey, everyone loves sexy parts!

 

His avatar had been better looking, but there was something visceral and downright dirty about the real man whose weight pressed her into the floor. His muscles were the long, rangy kind, and they flexed as he propped himself on his forearms above her—forearms, she saw now, that were dotted with round scars. They were shiny, circular patches, as if someone had stubbed out ten or twenty oversized cigarettes on his skin. His T-shirt had several holes in it, and his dark hair had grown long over his ears, which had silver studs running up the edges.

It was nothing that should make her so hot, and yet it did.

 

Buy at Decadent Publishing | Buy at Amazon.com | Buy at Barnes & Noble | Buy at AllRomance | Buy at Smashwords

 

 

My grammatically incorrect title

Yes, I meant to type that. Why you hate like that, little red line? Whyyyy?

My novella is titled Unsecure Connection. And I am a grammar nerd. What do these two things have to do with each other? Let me show you. (See left.)

You are my problem, little red line. Or maybe I’m my problem. I should have known better than to title my novel something that’s only kind-of sort-of a word. But I couldn’t help it. It was a pun, see. A geeky network pun. My two main characters are hackers– an unsecure connection is like a field day for them. And in kind of a cool way, the title also describes their uneasy relationship.

But the problem is, spell check always thinks I mean insecure, because unsecure is not a word. 14 and a half million people on Google think it is, though. But if you’re talking about a wireless connection, I think the proper way to say it would be unsecured, as in “That network is unsecured.” See, no red line. (Well, you can’t see it. But I can. And trust me, there’s not.) The Network Connections dialogue in Windows in fact says unsecured. But colloquially, it seems like most people say unsecure, not unsecured. So I went with it.

Oh woe, my book title is only sort of a real word

I sort of regret it, though, whenever I start typing something up and I get that constant reminder that there is something grammatically shady about the title of my novella. It’s just the kind of person I am when it comes to grammar. I hate that I did something grammatically questionable. And yet I still think it’s kind of a cool title. (How funny is it, BTW, that the third search result down says “Unsecure connection: Many wi-fi spots vulnerable to hackers”?)

Character intro: Riley

Riley Janacek is the heroine in my cyberpunk romance novella Unsecure Connection, which debuts soon. So what’s her deal?

She’s a hacker who goes by the handle LaReineTX2, which stands for Queen of Tarrytown. You don’t call yourself that unless you think you’re the best, or pretty close to it. When we meet her, she’s hacking into a corporate database for a list of passwords. Only it turns out someone else is in the system, monitoring her. That’s CJ, the hero of the story. Well, more like an anti-hero, but we’ll get to him tomorrow.

Riley is kind of paranoid. I can’t really blame her, considering her line of work. Basically until the last page of the story, she won’t tell CJ her name. He knows her handle. And he knows one of her aliases, Samantha McTavish. And since he doesn’t have anything else to call her, he starts to think of her as Samantha. I can tell you other things about Riley, for instance that she is sarcastic and that she has a messy apartment. (Both my characters do. I like to think it’s what brings them together. Just kidding… although there is a moment where they talk about their dirty dishes growing mold.)

I don’t always imagine out my characters’ appearances that much. I know Riley has blue hair and a lot of implants in her arms and neck. I know she cares more about what she looks like in virtual reality than in real life, mainly because her work and her social life don’t tend to be in real life. She has multiple avatars… one for socializing, one for gaming, and I’m assuming another one for meeting clients, although we don’t see that one in the story.

In this excerpt, CJ considers Riley’s different avatars and what they might say about her:

Each of her avatars had similar features, but just enough was different about them. Her social avatar had bigger breasts than the real Samantha. She also dressed a lot more daringly. CJ remembered the little skirt from that first night. This avatar had muscular arms and a sturdier figure. And, he couldn’t help noticing, an ass that looked great in those military pants with the pockets. She wore a bandana tied like a headband across a forehead that sported a jagged white scar running from the left side down onto her cheek. This Samantha was pretty bad-ass. Like the other one and like the real Samantha, it had blue hair.

He wondered what her avatars said about her. The real Samantha was too skinny to even be called by more flattering words, like slender. In fact, scrawny would have been the most appropriate, but even CJ wasn’t stupid enough to say that to a woman he wanted to sleep with again. Was her Killblock avatar her attempt at experiencing what it was like to be physically powerful? And her social avatar that he’d seen in Slash was an exploration of what it would be like to be sexy? That thought sobered him. Was that what she saw about her real-world self? Things she longed to change? Because she was powerful and sexy just the way she was. To him, anyway.

Or maybe he was reading too much into it. It didn’t have to be either a massive wish-fulfillment fantasy or just a game. The truth might be any shade of gray in between those two extremes, he realized.

Buy at Decadent Publishing | Buy at Amazon.com | Buy at Barnes & Noble | Buy at AllRomance | Buy at Smashwords

My cyberpunk-ish noir-ish setting

 

Dark city.

Night had fallen on Tarrytown, at the far north end of the urban sprawl that had once been known as Manhattan. Here, where the vacant hulks of old buildings crumbled and moisture dripped from the shadowy rusted beams. Where the city moldered and you could see the fires burning in barrels in the very lowest levels where people camped. The people who lived here were the people the corporations forgot, as they gradually consolidated and closed up the buildings and moved south. It was the sort of neighborhood where no one looked each other in the eye. It smelled like wet metal and Chinese food.

 

This is how my debut novella Unsecure Connection, which is upcoming from Decadent Publishing, opens. I’ve always been attracted to the undersides of large cities, the parts that are more grit than glamor. My story takes place in a future version of New York. I never got specific about how far in the future–the truth is I don’t really know. But I don’t think I need to for the purposes of the story.

Anyone familiar with the state of New York (and I am, since I grew up around Albany) knows that Tarrytown is on the Hudson River a good ways up from Manhattan. So what’s the deal with my setting? Well, what I envisioned was a future in which there had been a huge growth explosion for New York city, and it had expanded to take over much of the lower part of the state. In this future, tech corporations rule the world. But at some point, the inevitable financial collapse happened, and the city was reduced once more to its center. It’s not post-apocalyptic exactly, but it’s post-financial apocalypse. So the outer areas of the mega-city become abandoned. And who still lives in the run-down, abandoned parts of the city? Shady characters, of course.

My characters are shady characters. So there you go. I’ll be introducing them in posts later this week.

We have a release date!

Unsecure Connection will be released from Decadent Publishing on April 27th. I will have more specific news as we get closer to the date…but it’s nice to have a date!

In Which I Get Edited

… And learn that I massively overuse the word “back.” Who knew? I didn’t know. It’s such a random word to overuse. And yet there it is. “He touched the back of her neck.” “He went back over to the console.” Back, back, back.

LOL.

This is my cyberpunk novella for Decadent Publishing that’s going through the editing process, by the way. I used to be all, “I am naturally amazing at spelling and grammar! I do not need editing!” It’s true that I’ve always been all sorts of English-majory picky about grammar. When something’s not right I just “know.”

But there’s more to it than that. Like this particularly hilarious thing that happened to me a few weekends ago. I was writing a scene in which the main female character is handcuffed. Well, I did fine with it at first. Or I thought I did fine with it. Then I read back through the scene and was completely mortified… there were at least five instances of her doing various things with her hands! I often use action tags during dialogue. Apparently, I’m so used to using actions with characters’ hands during speech (and sex– this was that kind of scene) that I just wrote it automatically, without even thinking about it.

The worst part was that wasn’t my first read-through of the scene. It was more like my fourth. It really took me that long to pick up on it. Someone get me a fact-checker up in here!