Free Book!

Free book? Well, yes! Beginning today and for the next two weeks my publisher, Ellora's Cave, is offering Traveller's Refuge for FREE on both the home site AND third party sites. If you ever wanted to read about my blue people and see what the excitement is all about--here's your chance.

Blurb:

Framed and running for his life, Traveller Devereaux decides to follow his missing brother Dancer, using the clues he left behind when he disappeared. They lead Traveller to the mysterious Mystic Valley where the people are blue, the flora and fauna are decidedly odd, and the mating customs are definitely different.

On his journey to the Valley, he is injured in a serious accident that traps him in a cave with his best friend, Bishop. Bish finds the hidden tunnel leading to the valley and takes Traveller to safety. Trav’s slow recovery allows him much needed time to adjust to the valley and fall in love with Wrenna, the woman chosen as his bond mate. When he finds out that she is related to the man who murdered his parents and siblings, he must choose between the woman he loves and her murderous grandfather.

Excerpt:

Bishop Llewellyn woke with the certainty that it was not going to be a good day. His head was full of tiny elves industriously beating on drums. His stomach was jumping in time to the drum beating. And his arms were twisted uncomfortably behind his back, where they appeared to be tied to his ankles. No, it wasn’t going to be a good day. A dark bag that seemed to be impregnated with cow manure was pulled over his head. He sincerely hoped that most of the cow manure had been emptied from the bag before he had dubious pleasure of its acquaintance. As he carefully took stock of his situation, he realized that he was stark naked and cold and had been rather carelessly dumped on the rough metal floor of a moving vehicle. It was a stupid way to spend his forty-fifth birthday.

The speed at which the vehicle was moving down something that resembled a dry pot-holed river bed did not auger well for either the vehicle or his skin. He bounced from one side to the other, slamming into hard pointy objects and concluded with faint resignation that he had no hope of getting out of this situation with a whole skin. The vehicle slammed to a stop and he heard the driver get out and shut the door. A few seconds later, the back door was opened and he was yanked toward the opening, losing more skin on the way. Almost with relief, he felt the tiny needle prick in his ankle and then he knew no more.

When he woke next, the elves were still with him but he was stretched out on the cold ground with his arms and legs firmly tied to stakes. And much to his dismay, he was still naked. The odiferous bag had been removed from his head and he saw that he was surrounded by darkness. About six feet away, a small fire was merrily crackling but it provided no heat for him. The duct tape that had covered his mouth had obviously been ripped off, taking part of his skin and mustache with it. It still burned, so he decided he was glad that he had not been conscious for that particular delight. His field of vision was limited but it seemed to him that he was in a cave.

“Happy Birthday, Bishop. I see you decided to finally rejoin the almost living,” a dark velvety voice observed and he knew exactly why he was in this situation.

“‘Lo, Trav,” he said casually. “Lots of work to piss off my father.”

“Now, Bish,” he was assured, “nothing is too much work to piss off your father.” Traveller moved into his field of vision and looked down at him. “You don’t look very comfortable, Bish. Aren’t you cold, like that?”

“Freezing,” Bish replied curtly. “But I’m sure you have something in mind to warm me up, so I’m not too worried about it.” He shivered artistically but Trav wasn’t buying. “So, what’s the deal? Are we waiting for a party? Or is this a stag deal?”

“Just you and me,” Trav informed him agreeably. “Straight trade. You for Dance.”

“And if Dad doesn’t have Dancer?” Bish didn’t think that his father had Dancer.

“We-ll, we’ll get to be better friends than we are now.” Traveller laughed quietly, sending chills up Bishop’s back. “I do hope that your father believed me when I said that I won’t negotiate.” He moved away and Bish heard the sound of liquid splashing into a container. “Are you thirsty?”

“I could use some water,” Bish replied.

“Here. Turn your head,” Trav instructed as he held a metal cup to Bish’s mouth. “There are approximately six hundred men out there on the mountain, trying to pinpoint this position. One of them is your girlfriend’s father, Carl DeMarko.” he said casually, as he tossed his heavy auburn braid back over his shoulder.

“Tiff’s not my girlfriend,” Bish declared curtly. “She’s a Fed they sicced on me when you disappeared.”

“I see. Now it’s my fault you were sleeping with that foul-mouthed wild cat?”

Bish shrugged. “Why turn down what’s offered?”

“Oh, maybe because she might just stick her gun up your butt and pull the trigger?”

http://www.annycook.com

Written into the Corner

One of the problems writers face is that terrible moment when they write their story into an impossible predicament. The story stops right on the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go. This happened to me over the weekend. I needed a conflict, a confrontation, and had no way to engineer it because I'd snowed my characters in. No way to escape, either. Hmmmm.

Disgusted and irritated, I backtracked to see where I was going to have to make changes, only to discover the solution was already there. A small, insignificant detail I'd tossed into the story several chapters earlier saved the day. In fact, it provided the vehicle for the confrontation and the possibility of escape.

I'm a pantster--a writer who sits down and writes without elaborate plotting ahead of time. I have a vague notion of the general outlines of the story, but no written notes. I keep a notepad next to the computer so I can jot down the odd detail for my story bible. You know--things like eye color, hair color, secondary character names, made-up words for animals/plants/stuff in my imaginary worlds.

In my Mystic Valley books, the men wear their long hair in many small braids tipped by special beads called chinkas. That was a detail set up in Dancer's Delight, book one. Where did the name come from? I have no idea. It was just there.

It wasn't until late in book two, Traveller's Refuge, that I found out why the beads were called chinkas. The scene flowed effortlessly as I wrote it:

The light breeze spread the scent of rain and quoltania bushes through the open window. Dancer enjoyed the light cinnamony scent and breathed in appreciatively before shifting to cuddle closer with Eppie. He spread his hand across her belly and rubbed their baby gently, careful not to wake Eppie. He froze when a tiny out-of-place sound wafted through the open window. A few seconds later, he caught the slight brush of fabric and silently he slipped from the bed, moving across the room to the window.
 

Peeking from behind the soft curtains, he saw a man stalking down the path to the back gate. Grabbing his sharda, he shinnied over the windowsill and soundlessly followed him as far as the river. Within a few feet, he knew he was trailing Merlyn but he was intensely curious about what could possibly bring his bond-father out in the rain in the middle of the night.
 

When Merlyn crossed the bridge and headed out into the open field past the training halls, Dancer waited until the buildings were between them and followed. He sank down in the deepest shadow in a dark corner and waited for a few moments, in case Merlyn returned. Just as he was satisfied that Merlyn wasn’t coming back his way, he heard a soft footstep on the bridge and barely made out the figure of Llyon coming his way.
 

Breathing shallowly, he squatted motionless in the dark while Llyon softly passed him in the rain. Slipping around the end of the building so that it was between him and the bridge, he crept to the corner until he could see the field clearly. The fine hairs along his spine tightened as he watched the small group of men in astonishment. There on the field he saw why the hair ornaments were called chinkas.
 

While all of the men stood in a semicircle watching intently, Llyon spun rapidly toward a practice dummy, his braids whipping out around him from the centrifugal force. When he came within reach of the dummy, the chinkas struck it with deadly force, making a very distinctive sound. Chinka, chinka, chinka. Dancer shuddered as he watched Llyon’s lethal dance shred the dummy.

That is an example of my subconscious working independently. If happens often when I'm writing. I could fill a book with examples of small details that take on a life of their own elsewhere in the story. The thing is, I can't plan this. I have tried. It would be so much more convenient, you know?

Instead, when I've painted myself into that clichéd corner, I know it's time to ponder the details, time to pinpoint that small bit that's going to fix my problem. How about you? Do you have a writing quirk that no one else seems to have?

anny

Know Your Target!

I received an e-mail from one of my publishers this morning informing me the first book in my series would be "selling" in early February for free. This is a marketing tactic that's proved successful in the past, apparently, especially for older series. There is a constant turnover in the reader arena and many just might not be aware of a particular series so offering the first book as a freebie encourages the reader to try something new-to-them.

It will be interesting to see if it works. With so many books available, it's harder and harder to stand out, let alone sell. It's not enough to declare in ringing tones that your books receive FIVE stars from reviewers. There's a perception that ALL books receive five stars...probably because nobody brags about receiving two stars. After a while the five star declaration loses some of it's power and punch.

This particular series is about blue people in a closed valley. At one time, that idea was highly unusual and mysterious. Then AVATAR burst on the movie screen and now when I talk about my Mystic Valley series, I receive sly knowing looks and comments like, "Ah...it's like Avatar."

Well, no. It's the other way around. Avatar is like the Mystic Valley books. A friend called me up when Avatar came out. "Did you know they stole your blue people?" she yelled. "They look exactly how you described them in your books!"

No idea is unique. No character description. No plot. Just...no. And while I admit the blue people in Avatar bear a striking likeness to my blue people, that's where the resemblance ends. I believe my own stories have value and merit and a certain uniqueness of character.

When the free Mystic Valley book is offered, check it out. Blue people are cool. Mine are definitely cool. And they don't die...

anny

Floating Your Boat...

By rights, this post should be about floods...but actually, it's not. It's about the variable tastes of our readers vs. the books authors are producing. I can't tell you how many notes I've received from my readers asking for a new Mystic Valley book. Or a new Flowers book. Or the sequel to Alpheli Solution. Or...but you probably get where I'm going with this.

As a reader with my own favorite series, I completely understand. As an author, I also understand the view from the author's chair. It's kind of like eating tuna every day. I like tuna. Really, I do. But sometimes I have a taste for something different.

The reader reaction is not always favorable. There's nothing so disheartening or sad as a fan letter that lets you know the reader wasn't impressed with your new endeavor because it was different. In other words--it didn't float their boat.

I say, try it. You just might like it! After all, the new story/series/etc., came from the same pen and writing skills as the stories you like so much. Give it an honest un-biased try. Yes, I know it requires more effort to get to know a new set of characters, but they really are a great bunch of people. I like them. You might grow to like them, too.

You just might find the new stories really do float your boat!

anny

Blue Paradise

Look what I have! The cover for book five of the Mystic Valley series, Blue Paradise. I don't have a release date yet, but I'll let you know as soon as I do. In the meantime, enjoy the eye-candy!

Happy Labor Day!

anny

Alien Pitfalls

Over the years I've read quite a few alien stories. Heck, I've even written a couple myself. As I see it, the easiest alien story is one where all the characters and the location are alien. In other words, everything is "not us". In that case, you don't have to decide what the characters know--or don't know (or understand). They'll all be familiar with the same references. Kama Sutra Lovers is this type of story. The book's setting is Elyria and all the characters--at least all the major characters--are natives of Elyria.

In the second type alien story, one of the characters is not native to an alien setting. In this story, the author creates the setting and then observes it through the eyes of the outsider. The Mystic Valley books are stories of this type. Everything is not only unfamiliar to the hero/heroine, but the reader. In many ways, this is the most difficult type alien story to write because the author must convey a strange world, customs, culture while maintaining the personality of the hero/heroine. What will they know/understand and how do they find out about the new world? Some authors may even be tempted to dump information rather than let their character discover that world on their own.

In the third scenario, the alien is on Earth. This presents the problem of determining what the alien knows about Earth and how quickly he/she assimilates. The world is familiar to the reader so the author doesn't have to explain the setting for the reader's sake. However, the author must still be careful when viewing the surroundings through the outsider's eyes.

In the second and third scenarios I also include time travel novels. In Linda Howard's Killing Time, she beautifully addresses this issue when her FBI agent from the future (though well prepared) is continually snagged by idiomatic language differences.

On one hand, it's too simplistic to assume the alien character will understand everything immediately. On the other hand, the story will screech to a halt if the author stops to explain every itty bitty little thing as they go along. I like to assume reasonable intelligence in my aliens and stop occasionally to show them figuring out/asking about a particularly puzzling issue.

The picture at the top of the post is a perfect example of the type of pitfall I think would be interesting, even amusing to have in a story. Perhaps the alien in this case has numerous little horns to hide. What to do? A normal hat wouldn't fit over his head... Or perhaps he's a dragon and must hide his crest. Hmmmm.

What's your favorite alien story?

anny

Manscapes

Ah, the vocabulary. Men don't have boobs. They have moobs. And bromances. And manscapes. They have mirdles and mansierres and are metrosexuals. Mantyhose and manscara are available for the truly well-rounded male. Think I'm kidding? One word. Google.

So, what is it all about?

Culturally, where are we going with this? Will there be a true reversion back to the days when men wore some version of the skirt and women wore pants? After all, gender wise, it would make more sense that way. And up through the sixteen hundreds, men were quite eager to display their peacockish ways.

There are a lot of women who really drool over a fellow in a kilt. I suspect that was part of the appeal of my Mystic Valley books. Every single male in the valley wore the kilt-like sharda. Yummmm.

There are several kilt companies out there that cater to the modern man who loves his kilts. Utilikilts even produce kilts for the fellows who want to wear them on construction jobs. Imagine the opportunities to find out what a man really wears under his kilt! I suspect it is NOT a mirdle.

How do you feel about the shift in gender wear?

anny

Shoving the Block out of the Way

Today, I began work on the next book in my Mystic Valley series, Love at Last. Immediately, I ran into trouble, of course. Since there is a sprawling cast of characters, several villages and a glossary of Valley words, every single addition and change has to be added to the various tables where I keep information. Sigh.

So I added two words, three minor characters, and a couple of houses. It appears that I will need to also draw a map as the action for the first part of the book takes place at Dai's Hamlet. In the interest of consistancy, I'll need to draw a map and describe each house, building, garden, etc. Sigh.

What was I thinking when I embarked on a series? Ah, yes, I wasn't thinking. Barely finished the prologue so far. I expect things will get interesting by the time I'm nearing the end of the book. I'm mostly a panster writer with a few plans on the side. And some extensive records.

Today I decided to change my webpage. After experimenting with Paint for a while, I put the result up on the webpage until I can find the time to actually do a drawing with chalk. If you've a mind to go have a look, then check it out at http://www.annycook.com/. I have a neighbor who draws beautifully. If I can catch him long enough, I'll ask him to draw a couple of dragons and pop them on there. In the meantime, I'll just have to muddle along on my own.

This evening I received an e-mail from an old friend I attended high school with forty years ago. Argh. That sounds like a very long time ago! Anyway, she sent me a link to a video tour of our old high school. Apparently, now prospective students can go on line and check out the high school before they show up on their first day.

The interesting thing? The place hasn't changed much. Amazing. If I ever go back to Chicago during the school year, I may go for a visit. One thing that has changed--I noticed every single person had an ID tag on a lanyard around their neck. Now that just plain freaked me out.

My friend also sent me a newsy newsletter with all sorts of gossipy stuff about students from the 60's... yeah, I graduated in the sixties. Strangely enough, I vaguely recognized a name or two. Didn't expect to, but I did.

The more things change, the more they remain the same.

Anny

Drop by and check on Amarinda at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ and Kelly at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/. Blessings on your day, wherever you are.

Little known facts about Mystic Valley

Today, Cherished Destinies, Book Three in the Mystic Valley Series will be released. (Everything Lovers Can Know is a Prequel to the series.) So I thought I would list some little known facts about the valley for those who are interested.

1) The natives are blue-skinned, with small fangs and pointed ears. Hair and eye color are a wide range of colors similar to out-valley.

2) Life expectancy in the valley averages around 150 years, though some have lived longer. Middle age is around 75.

3) For the past century, the average family has two children. The exceptions are among couples where at least was born out-valley. (Most noteably, Merlyn and Jade who have fourteen children at the beginning of the series, but end with sixteen total.) Prior to that the average family had four children. The drop in reproduction rates has led to a much smaller gene pool.

4) In the valley, women choose their mate, though men may present themselves as a suitable mate. The ultimate choice is up to the woman. A woman's mate choice is an extremely important decision and therefore not taken lightly.

5) All youngsters must attend bonding classes. Classes are taught by local healers and cover a multitude of subjects related to bonding, including sex education, pregnancy, child care, and delivery.

6) Many, but not all inhabitants of the valley exhibit various paranormal abilities. The most common are telepathy and healing, but others are precognition and animal communication.

7) From age six, all boys are trained in warrior classes until they reach approximately fifteen. At that time they can choose to take the warrior's vows (once they have passed all the requirements) or not. Warriors are easily identified by the twenty-five braids they wear.

8) The valley laws and history are inscribed on an enormous hanging wall at the north end of the valley called the Talking Wall. A full time team of Archivists study, transcribe, and translate the wall which is inscribed with glyphs in the "old language".

9)Valley laws are enforced and judged by specially trained warriors called Justicars. Certain crimes are judged by the Judgement Stone which is located at the summit of Needle Rock. Miscreants are taken to the top of Needle Rock and left there for judgement. If they are guilty, they are consumed by the valley. If they are innocent, they are released by the valley. Crimes judged by the Judgement Stone are rape, murder, and all forms of abuse.

10)There is no electricity in the valley. Light is provided via "lightstones". Heat is provided via fireplaces or in small areas, "hot rocks". In Lost Market, the homes are domes engineered to retain heat in the winter and cool in the summer, but in most the of the valley, homes are anything from stone huts, wooden huts, woolen tents, and in a few cases, caves. The "modern" domes from Lost Market are gradually spreading across the valley.

Have a question? Leave it in the comments section. When I collect enough questions, I'll do another blog to answer them.

Anny

Please don't forget to stop at Amarinda's blog where she has the Saga today. http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/ Then pop over to Kelly's blog where she's interviewing Sandra Cox at http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ Blessings on your day!

Serial Anny

Anny Cook’s EVERYTHING LOVERS CAN KNOW is a wonderful story of a young man and a woman who’re very much in love and who can communicate telepathically. The addition of the two families who are determined to keep them apart until the young woman is of age add an edgy element to the story....

That was what I woke up to on Monday morning. Not bad. Always a nice wake-up note when you get a nice review. And the lady was kind enough not to give the story away, while she recommended that readers rush out and buy a copy. Very nice. I want to thank Nickie at Romance Junkies for the lovely review.

Everything Lovers Can Know is the story of Baron Merlyn Llewellyn and Jade Alexander. Dancer's Delight takes up their story twenty five years later and focuses primarily on their daughter Eppie. Traveller's Refuge is the story of their next daughter Wrenna. And Cherished Destinies (coming out in November) is the story of their twin sons, Arano and Arturo. For those who have asked for a happy ending for Silence, I think you'll find it in Cherished Destinies. Currently, I'm working on the next book in the series, Bishop's Treasure. So quit picking on me, Kelly! All of the books together are part of the Mystic Valley series. There are several more in the planning stage. If you like big family style series, then these are the books for you.

Chrysanthemum is the first book in the Flowers of Camelot series. It was released in May. The second book, Honeysuckle, will be released January 30, 2008. The third book, Daffodil, was finished today except for some minor editing. Then it will go off to my editor with a lot of fervent prayers that she likes it and offers me a contract for it.

The Flowers of Camelot are three sisters whose father takes them to Camelot in hopes of marrying them off as soon as possible. Of course this isn't quite the Camelot you might have read as a kid. The series is irreverent, sexy, and humorous. If you want a book that will make you smile, then my friends recommend Chrysanthemum.

Chrysanthemum is a light-hearted yet quite sensual look at an entirely new view of Arthurian legends. Readers who enjoy Light bondage will certainly tremble over this story, as Anny Cook weaves subtle tongue-in-cheek humour with fantasy, B&D, and steamy sensuality into a story that is not-for-young-historians. Anny Cook definitely has a creative way with history and legend, making Chrysanthemum an unexpected pleasure. Readers will never be able to think of Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table in the same way, ever again.--Two Lips Reviews.

In December, just in time for Christmas, Winter Hearts, the first book in the Ardent Angels series will be released. The series tells the stories of a middle-class angel family with a long term assignment on earth. They live in the back country of Tennessee. And they've been granted the ability to shape-shift into any animal, any size. It makes for some interesting situations. In the following snippet two of the brothers witness the abduction of their "assignment", Unity Brooks, and they jump into the van with her. But how to let her know that she isn't alone?

So Tate and Rack were rattling around in a filthy bucket…as chipmunks. The back door opened and Unity climbed in, sitting on the cold metal floor exactly where the man had instructed her to sit. He snapped a pair of handcuffs dangling from a short chain above her head around her wrists and slammed the door shut.

She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the angry tears. She was freezing and wet but she was not going to let this jerk see her cry. When she was sure the tears were quelled for the moment, she opened her eyes and studied her surroundings, cataloguing every possible item that could be used as a weapon.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small cat. When she stared directly at it, wondering why the hell her captor would have a cat in his van, the cat morphed into a tiny gray poodle which changed into a squirrel. Abruptly, it changed into something so small it was hidden by the high side of the bucket.

Tate—or Rack. Abruptly, her spirits lifted. If one of them was here, then Quill would know what happened to her. The thought occurred to her that they were using her abduction to lead them to the ringleader but as long as she wasn’t alone, she wasn’t as frightened. Help was on the way.

So there's something for everyone. Especially if you like series.

Anny

Don't forget to stop over at Amarinda's and check to see what she's done with the Blogga Saga. www.amarinda.blogspot.com Then check with Kelly for her take on e-pubs versus print pubs and what writers really want. www.kkirch.blogspot.com/

Chopsticks...

Remember that two fingered song for piano that everyone seems to know? Well this blog is not about that. Heh.

Actually, it's about my search for bamboo chopsticks. In my quest for interesting, inexpensive items to give away at the convention I'm attending in the spring, I had the notion to give hair piks as one of the items. In my Mystic Valley books the women twist their long hair up and anchor it with jeweled hair pics. I thought that I could improvise by painting and beading bamboo chopsticks.

Perhaps I will... but bamboo chopsticks seem to be a scarce item. I thought I would find them at a dollar store. Nope. Chinese restaurant? Perhaps, let's make a deal? Nope. So today my friend called me from the dollar aisle at Target. "Quick! They have chopsticks!"

This is how sad this is. My husband and I dropped everything and barreled down there to buy chopsticks. Tomorrow I will try out my idea. If it works, then we'll probably go back down there and buy the rest of them in the rack. Pitiful, isn't it?

So far, I have tiny boxes to decorate for chinka boxes. The men in Mystic Valley wear their hair--very long hair--in twenty five braids that are fastened on the ends with chinkas. Chinkas are carved beads that fit over the end of the braid. At night when they take their hair down the chinkas go in a chinka box. So. I found small boxes to decorate.

And then I will also make small recipe books with recipes from the valley. That won't be so difficult as I have quite a collection of specialty papers to use for that. My friend has graciously agreed to help me adapt recipes for the book.

One thing I'll say about my projects. It's a good thing I have all winter to work on this. While other people will be watching television and knitting, I'll be making chinka boxes and hair pics.

And I guarantee that the readers that take one of my souvenirs home will probably remember me and my books longer than the ones that take a bookmark. So, we'll see.

In the meantime, I thought maybe you would like to read about the chinkas so here's a scene in which Llyon demonstrates exactly what a chinka is used for. Enjoy.

Anny

The light breeze spread the scent of rain and quoltania bushes through the open window. Dancer enjoyed the light cinnamony scent and breathed in appreciatively before shifting to cuddle closer with Eppie. He spread his hand across her belly and rubbed their baby gently, careful not to wake Eppie. He froze when a tiny out of place sound wafted through the open window. A few seconds later, he caught the slight brush of fabric and silently he slipped from the bed, moving across the room to the window.

Peeking from behind the soft curtains, he saw a man stalking down the path to the back gate. Grabbing his sharda, he shinnied over the windowsill and soundlessly followed him as far as the river. Within a few feet, he knew he was trailing Merlyn but he was intensely curious about what could possibly bring his bond-father out in the rain in the middle of the night.

When Merlyn crossed the bridge and headed out into the open field past the training halls, Dancer waited until the buildings were between them and followed. He sank down in the deepest shadow in a dark corner and waited for a few moments, in case Merlyn returned. Just as he was satisfied that Merlyn wasn’t coming back his way, he heard a soft footstep on the bridge and barely made out the figure of Llyon coming his way.

Breathing shallowly, he squatted motionless in the dark while Llyon softly passed him in the rain. Slipping around the end of the building so that it was between him and the bridge, he crept to the corner until he could see the field clearly. The fine hairs along his spine tightened as he watched the small group of men in astonishment. There on the field he saw why the hair ornaments were called ‘chinkas’.

While all of the men stood in a semi-circle watching intently, Llyon spun rapidly toward a practice dummy, his braids whipping out around him from the centrifugal force. When he came within reach of the dummy, the chinkas struck it with deadly force, making a very distinctive sound. Chinka, chinka, chinka. Dancer shuddered as he watched Llyon’s lethal dance shred the dummy.

When Llyon came to a standstill, the men formed a line and one after the other each performed the same savage maneuver. After several more passes, the men divided into pairs and started practicing basic hand-to-hand fighting moves. Dancer assessed their skills and decided that they were fairly basic. Depending on what Merlyn and Llyon had to say after the practice, he might be able to assist them. He watched the entire practice, patiently waiting until all of the men were gone except Merlyn and Llyon.

Having seen exactly what Llyon could do, both with the chinkas and with his mind, Dancer took him down quickly and efficiently before disabling Merlyn. While he waited for them to come around, he tied Merlyn’s hands together behind his back with a couple of his braids and admired his work. Hair was notoriously difficult to unknot and if Merlyn moved very much, he would rip his own hair out. Then he sat down in the middle of Llyon’s back and waited.

He knew the moment Llyon was conscious and cheerfully cautioned, “I wouldn’t do anything too hasty,” and felt him relax when he recognized his voice. Merlyn groaned and then cursed fluently and creatively for quite a while. Dancer listened raptly to his repertoire, admiring the fact that he didn’t once repeat himself. When he was silent, Dance inquired calmly, “Have you called out the reinforcements?”

“Who the hell would we call?” Llyon asked in exasperation. “Mama? Everyone else has gone with Dai!”

“This is true,” Dance agreed, struck by the undeniable facts. Bish, Dai and Tyger were all far away. Arturo was with Dai also. Arano was with Silence. Wolfe was at the other end of the valley. If these were the defenders of the valley, they were woefully undermanned.

“What do you want?” Merlyn demanded with resignation.

“I watched your little practice session and I want to know why?” Dance replied quietly. “What has you in such a panic that you’ve set up a militia? Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? This isn’t the same as the standard warrior training.” He waited patiently while Merlyn and Ly had an intense silent discussion. When they seemed to come to an impasse, he pointed out, “I have the right to know. I have a bond-mate and a child on the way. Your grandchild, lest you forget.”

Merlyn sighed. “It’s you and Trav,” he admitted reluctantly. “You’re the reason we got the men together.”

More puzzled than ever, Dancer stood up, freeing Llyon. Cautiously, he unknotted Merlyn’s hair and released his bonds. “Why? What have we done to you?”

“You found the valley, not accidentally but with purpose.”

“Are you both completely whacked? I know I didn’t hit you that hard! I literally stumbled into that cave.”

Merlyn shook his head. “No. But I think we should go back and wake Trav. I would rather only explain one time.”

Oh, my, oh, my. Just wait until you see what Amarinda - www.amarindajones.blogspot.com - has done to the Blogga Saga. And then post on over to Kelly - www.kkirch.blogspot.com - for her interview with Puck, one of the characters from her Regency romances. And then? Have a wonderful day.

Do you need a map?

A young lady recently attracted a great deal of attention by flubbing her answer to the following question at a teen pageant: One fifth of Americans can't locate the United States on a map--why do you think that is?

Only one fifth? I would have put it much higher. I read a study one that stated that more than on half of all American college graduates couldn't correctly locate even the general area for our national capitol on a blank map. So what are we teaching in schools and colleges? Perhaps not geography--at least not geography as I learned it back in the "good old days."

The year I was eighteen my husband and I (yes, I know, eighteen is young!) went on a delayed honeymoon. We married in the winter and then went on a road trip to Arizona in the summer. When we were down the road a piece--maybe two hours or so--he was appalled to find out that I'd inadvertantly left our atlas at home. I couldn't quite figure out what the problem was as I am one of those people that you can set down in the desert, turn me around six times and then ask me to point some arbitrary direction and I can... every time. My husband on the other hand is one of those individuals who need a map to get across the street.

Well, with my directions we drove straight to my grandparents house outside of Phoenix without even one detour. I don't think he ever recovered from the stress. Ever since then, I'm the official keeper of the directions, maps, etc. Maybe I should have let us get lost.

Through my years of giving directions, it's been my experience that the average person cannot read a map. Most don't understand the four compass directions. Most don't understand the symbols. And most don't have any idea of how to judge distances. I don't think that this is an inherent problem with most of the population. I think that map basics aren't taught anymore in school because we too busy teaching testing skills. Maybe we're testing the wrong thing. Maybe we should be teaching survival skills--the real map skills of living.

Anyway, I've been asked why on earth I would put maps on my website. The maps are there for those readers who want more information or a clearer picture of where the characters are going, have been, or currently live. Some people just like visual aids. I know I do. Geography in its purest form is the "lay of the land". My maps are designed to convey the lay of the land for Avalon (Flowers of Camelot series) and Mystic Valley. There's even a map of Lost Market, the main village in Mystic Valley.

I like maps. I have a couple that are framed. I have books of old maps. And I have books about maps. They give me a way to connect with the explorers that searched out new lands. Without understanding a map, it's difficult to understand the explorers immense accomplishments. The next time you look at a map, imagine the number of hours that it took to accumulate all the information on that piece of paper. Its a living work of art.

Anny

If you haven't already checked out Kelly interview with Teri Thackston hop right over to http://www.kkirch.blogspot.com/ and of course you'll want to find out what Amarinda is up to with the Louella/Sam saga and find out who hit Amarinda in the face at http://www.amarindajones.blogspot.com/