Monday, 30 September 2013

Called to Belong - A M Winters

I am extremely pleased tonight to post an extract from A M Winters who I have had great fun working with. Here's an extract from the first book of her Legoria Series, Called to Belong.

Called to Belong (Extract) - A M Winters
Alessandra bowed her head when Antuan said to her, “Now, do it now,” before withdrawing into the trees with the men.
Hope’s voice was tired when she asked, “Do what?”
“I need to teach you to call forth fire.”
“Why now?  I don’t understand.  After all that happened, can’t we just take a moment to regroup?  Do we have to do it right now?  I am so tired.”
“I’m sorry to press you.  I wish it could be different, but don’t you see?  Every moment we do nothing, more people suffer and die.  We are less than an hour away from the city.  We need you to start a fire by magic means so that the suspicion between the wizards can be set off.  We need to make Broderich think that Heimrich is sabotaging his army.  We need to add fuel to their animosity against each other.”
“Yes, you are right.  Of course you are right.  It is just so hard, but after last night … I will do anything to stop them.  Teach me.  What do I do to make fire?”
“Calling fire is one of the most basic skills and not complicated to do if you have abilities.  You should be able to master it.  It is elemental magic and you can call on the energy around you to strengthen your own. 
“Start by going into a meditative state just as we did last night.  Breathe deeply.  Calmness in, tension out.  Calmness in, tension out.  Picture fire in you mind.  See the flames, feel the heat, listen to the sounds, smell the smoke.  It is just you and the fire, nothing else exists.
“Feel the fire in your gut, move it up to your shoulders and then down your arm into your fingertips.  Send it into the grass over there.”
As Hope concentrated, she felt a warm tingling in her stomach area and focused on sending it down her arm and into the grass.  Nothing happened.
“You have to be confident in your belief that you can do it.  Don’t question or analyse it.  It’s like breathing or moving your arms, you just do it because you know you can.  The energy will follow your intention.  Make your intention clear.”
Hope slowed her breathing down and pictured flames.  As it danced in her mind’s eye and the tingling started, she firmly took hold of it and directed it down her arm.  With a small gesture of her fingers she flicked it into the grass and smiled widely as a small flame appeared.
She hugged Alessandra tightly, exclaiming, “I can do it!  I can actually do it!”


If you want to read more you can download the book from Amazon now: http://www.amazon.com/Called-Belong-Legoria-Series-ebook/dp/B00EHJNB1A/ref=pd_sim_kstore_2


Do you want a spot in the Limelight - email me your work at lefitzpatrick@hotmail.co.uk.

Saturday, 28 September 2013

The Running Game - Chapter Two

Since the first chapter of my new book went down pretty well I thought I'd post the second. I'm still looking for Beta Readers for the entire book so if anyone fancies reading the whole thing email me lefitzpatrick@hotmail.co.uk - otherwise keep watching for more updates....

The Running Game

Chapter Two

Charlie jolted awake in his chair, his face sodden with sweat. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. Pain coursed up his back, reminding him of his nightmare. The reoccurring dream of the day it all went wrong. He fumbled through his pockets until he found his pills. The placebo was instantaneous, the pain relief followed shortly after. He rubbed his eyes and returned to the camera positioned towards the apartment in the opposite tower block.
The lights were on, curtains open. Someone had come home and he’d missed it. His one job and he’d screwed it up. He kicked out at the crutch resting against his chair and watched as it skidded across the floor out of his reach.
“Shit.”
He lifted himself from his chair too quickly and his right leg buckled, knocking over the camera – only the most expensive bit of kit they owned. The lens cracked.
“Shit, shit, shit.” He shouted from the floor. The shockwaves of pain started to subside. Anger and shame fighting their usual battle, while the voice inside his head urged him to just quit already. And as usual a persistent nagging from his bladder brought everything into perspective. He carried a lot of indignity on his shoulders, the last thing he needed was to be found sitting in a pool of his own piss.
Slowly, because nowadays everything had to be done slowly, he edged himself over to his crutch and, with it in hand, he managed to make it to the bathroom. It was a small victory, but it was nearly enough to cheer him up. That was until he caught sight of himself in the broken mirror fixed above the sink. He used to have charisma. He used to be able to smile his way out of trouble. Now he was lucky if people didn’t cross the street to avoid him. Greying hair, dull red eyes, pallid skin. He was thirty-three; he looked fifty; he felt like a pensioner. Things had changed so radically in just a year. One year, two months and eight days.
The lock in the front door turned. Charlie straightened his clothes. Everything was normal, everything was fine. He could cope, of course he could cope. He checked his smile in the mirror and stepped out of the bathroom as his brother kicked open the door and then kicked it closed again, to make his point.
“Everything okay?” Charlie asked.
His younger brother was wearing a scowl so deep it could have been chiselled into his skull. Everything was clearly not okay. But with John it was impossible to tell how far up the disaster scale the situation was. Charlie had seen that same scowl when a job went sour and he’d seen it when someone spilt coffee on John’s suit.
“What happened?”
John glanced away. He was annoyed with himself – never a good sign. Charlie braved a crutch supported step towards him. There was a four year age gap between the two of them and it had never been more apparent.
Charlie gestured for them to sit down at the fold-up table in the dining space. Most of the time John had everything under control. It was rare for him to make mistakes, or miscalculations and when he did he would beat himself up over it for days. He would need Charlie, a professional in screwing things up, to put everything into perspective.
“She saw me,” John confessed.
“She saw you!” Charlie said in disbelief. “You’re like a creature of the night, how the hell could see you? Jesus, most of the time I don’t even see you and I know you’re coming.”
John’s fists clenched and unclenched. He stood up to work off the tension and started to pace; short, quick steps, squeaking his leather shoes against the linoleum floor.
“There was an explosion. Some bastard left a lure bomb right on her route. I had to pull her away before the goddamn building fell on her.”
Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose. Even when his brother messed up he still managed to do something right. “What you mean is you saved her?”
John glared at him. “You’re missing the point.”
Charlie rolled his eyes. Only John would get himself so worked up over saving the life of their mark. “Listen, do you think he’d pay us if he found out we let her die?” Charlie assured him.
“You don’t know that. We have no idea what he wants her for!”
It was true, they didn’t and the fact was starting to chafe. The infamous Smith brothers always knew the cards on the table before the deck was even dealt. Charlie planned jobs like he was writing a script. Nobody ever missed a cue. At least that was how it used to be a year ago. A year, two months and eight days. Since then the jobs had dried up. They were lucky to get the Rachel Aaron case and that was only because Charlie’s old mentor put in a good word for them. But luck and even the backing of an old priest didn’t make the unknown any less troubling. They were out of their depth and they were still only in the shallows.
“Maybe he wants her dead,” John stated.
“If he wanted her dead he would have asked us to kill her,” Charlie replied. “And if he wanted her dead he wouldn’t be approaching a priest to see if he knew any contract killers. He wants her found John, that’s all.”
“I don’t like it,” John snapped. “This whole job feels off.”
“I know.” Charlie took a deep breath, his next sentence shouldn’t have made him nervous but it did. “Which is why I’m going to do a little field work myself.”
John never looked surprised, or happy, or anything other than mildly impatient, but when something pleased him his right eyebrow would lift ever so slightly. As it rose Charlie felt a pang of guilt that he hadn’t said it sooner.
“I thought you were a liability,” John jibed.
“It’s surveillance in a hospital John, who’s going to blend in better, me or you?”
The eyebrow perched higher on John’s forehead. He’d been patient with Charlie, more patient than Charlie felt he’d deserved, waiting for his brother to get back in the game instead of going out on his own. John hadn’t lost his edge. He didn’t have a problem with stairs. He could drink what he wanted. Sleep when he needed. Charlie was holding them both back, but John still clung to the hope that one day his brother would recover and things would go back to normal. And Charlie needed him too much to tell him that was never going to happen.
“You sure about this?” John asked.
“We need the money.”
“What if he does want to kill her, or worse?”
Despite what Charlie had said it was always a possibility. They weren’t working for the good guys on this one and the girl had been hard to find, even with Charlie’s skills. It was not going to end well for her and maybe that was why Charlie hadn’t asked enough questions.
“We need the money,” Charlie assured him. “That has to be our priority.” That wasn’t him talking. Sure he’d done questionable things, bad things even, but he had morality and right now it was screaming inside his head that this was all wrong.
John nodded, sharing his brother’s sentiments. “Fine, but if it has to be done I’ll do it.”
“No, you don’t need this on your conscience. I’ll do it.”
John gave him a look. “Are we seriously going to argue about who gets to kill her?”
“Has to,” Charlie corrected. “When you say ‘gets to kill her’ you kind of make it sound like a bonus prize. And no, we’re not going to argue because I’ll do it.” He didn’t have to say because it was his fault all of this had happened – that was a given.
John folded his arms. “Okay, but I get to dispose of the body.”
Charlie scowled. “Did you mean to say ‘get to’?”

His brother smirked. He had an unique sense of humour.



Leave your comments, email me your thoughts all feedback is as per usual treated like gospel.

Fancy being up here yourself email me lefitzpatrick@hotmail.co.uk for a spot in the Limelight

Thursday, 26 September 2013

Poetry Extracts featured on the BBC - Dominae Primus

So tonight I'm featuring, for the second time, extracts from Dom a.k.a Dominae Primus which have previously been listed at BBC portal... which is fitting since I'm watching BBC 2 as I type... 




A Glance at Time by Dom

What is this fleeting moment?
An hourglass filled with cascading sand
Passes us in joy or lament
While we compelled or by own choosing attend





The Archer by Dom

The Archer pulls his bowstring
Yonder what lies in hiding
One shot hits its target true
Hinders doubts which worries spew





For My Friends by Dom

Courtesy in deeds driven
Ev'ry gesture plays a part
Fair regard gladly given
Fondness well planted in heart

Ye fair rovers in life
torches glow and fires swell
upon the reach of warm hive
We wish thee "all be well"


If you want to be featured here read the promotions tab above and get in touch at lefitzpatrick@hotmail.co.uk

And for anyone that enjoyed the first chapter of The Running Game, I'll be posting chapter two very, very soon...

Tuesday, 24 September 2013

An Article on Self-Publishing - by Justin Bienvenue

This is a blog geared towards indie writing and Justin Bienvenue has written his thoughts about this growing industry.. enjoy..



Self-Publishing. It has become a wave of a new way to publish a book. It is for anyone who wants to go in a different direction but it is not for everyone. With self-publishing you get to do everything that a traditional company would do for you. Some ask for frees just like traditonal but are done so you know what your getting. In other cases there is a Do-It-yourself feature which is exactly what is says, you are in full control and get to create the book as you like. With most places they offer assistance if needed. I’m not trying to paint a perfect portrait so to speak about self-publishing but I am merely shedding light as to why it should be more considered than it is. For those of us that do self-publish we know the pros and cons of what it takes and what it offers. However there are some that will not only not self-publish but don’t take it seriously then that of traditional and treat self-published indie authors differently. For whatever reason they believe that self-published authors aren’t as substantial whether it be because their book may not have been edited in the right way, the price isn’t reasonable or whatever reason. The truth is Indie authors are no different then traditional and why there is such a separation of disdain in some peoples eyes just doesn’t make sense. With Self-Publishing an author gets to call the shots. If they do have to pay a fee even then they are going down the road not taken. Self-publishing to some may not be the right way but it is the light way to publish. When you go with a traditional publisher there’s all the stuff you have to go over with them; contract, fees, layout, timetable of expectancy to be done but with self-publishing all that isn’t as big a factor. Again I do not claim to be an expert on the matter I am just explaining what I think and why I think it is best. With Self-publishing there’s less stress and expectation. You don’t have to send out a press release or write a synopsis for every single chapter upon request. You simply explain your situation, your book, yourself and most of all what your looking for. The company will then go over some things and most will ask if you wish to use their services with fees or if you wish to DIY(Do It Yourself). The whole labeling of Indie authors as not legitimate authors doesn’t make sense. There is no difference at all as I mentioned before. If anything it makes an author more credible. They not only wrote a great piece of work but they are the one who created it from scratch to get it to be published. I will end this by sharing a list with you of things you can do as a self-published author that you can’t normally do if you go with a traditional publisher. 

-You can decide whether or not you want to pay any fees for any services 
-No waits, work on it when you want 
-You can go back and fix something you don’t like or wish to change 
-You can pick your own Editor 
-You can pick your own Designer 
-You don’t have to search the web looking for a bunch of possible publishers 
-You don’t have to wait around hoping to hear back hoping they’ll accept you 
-You don’t have to submit a manuscript 
-Any pressure or stress you feel is created by you and all on you(Okay this one doesn’t seem like a good thing but it’s only stating your responsible for your own work and you should break when you need to!) 
-You can pertain to and relate to an audience of Indie authors just like yourself 

http://jbienvenue.webs.com/ 

So are you an indie writer? Do you have any thoughts to share? Let me know and I'll post you up here with links to your work - lefitzpatrick@hotmail.co.uk

Sunday, 22 September 2013

A Bloody Bloody Mess In The Wild Wild West - Justin Bienvenue

Evening guys and girls. It's Sunday night, which means I sober enough to post something that won't get me arrested and thanks to our author this evening Master Justin Bienvenue I have just the thing to finish the week off. So here's a little extract from A Bloody Bloody Mess in the Wild Wild West ...


A Bloody Bloody Mess in the Wild Wild West (Extract)  - Justin Bienvenue 

Jones had come from California a few weeks prior and figured going into Mexico and stealing a few thousand would be easy, but he underestimated it dearly. He settled into town so the folks would grow accustomed to him. 

“Ah, Javier my friend what brings you down today?” the teller asked. 
“Sorry to say amigo but I’m going to have to ask you to give me all the money you got stored back there and kindly hand it over or Im gonna have to put a bullet in that head of yours,” Javier politely responded. 

“Javier, I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?” 

“Oh, save me the sappy crap,” he said. “I came to this god forsaken shithole for one reason only to make right of what’s mine. You thought I was righteous, did ya? Sorry to break it to ya but I’m as bad as they come. Now I’m giving you a chance amigo, hand over the money or Im gonna kill you where you stand.” 

Just as Javier was making his threat, two law men walk in from behind, only to notice Javier sticking the place up. The teller looked past Javier and over by the lawmen but Javier sees his glance and turns around to see the men. 

“Ah, gentlemen, I was just making a quick transaction. I don’t suppose you’re here to stop me?” Javier asks. 

“Don’t you move you son of a bitch! I had a feeling about you since you came into town. My suspicions were right. Now slide the gun over and step away,” the first lawmen said. 

“Do what they ask, Javier. Please!” said the teller. 

“Here’s the problem guys. I don’t have me any money yet and you two are in my way.” 

“Drop the damn gun Jones or we’re gonna shoot you dead!” 

Jones, while still pointing the gun at the teller, reached in with his other hand to pull out his .45 caliber and shot both men. Then he shot the teller in the head before going behind the booth to avoid getting shot himself. “Shit! I’ve been shot.” One of the law men exclaims in pain. 

“Bastard had another gun...shit…he killed the teller,” he adds. 

“Jones now you got blood on your hands so if you take that money, you’re gonna have two charges on you. Just surrender before this gets ugly.” 

“This coming from two guys with holes in their stomachs and not much time to live. I hardly think you’re gonna make me do a damn thing,” he says back. Jones then goes into the back room and fills his bag with money. He then slides back under the booth and looks around to the two men. 

“I got the money, now you two are gonna end up dead, unfortunately, unless you let me walk.” 

“Jones, we ain’t letting you leave with that money.” Before either of the men could say another word, Jones leaps onto the wood counter with both guns drawn and fires a few more shots into their stomachs. Unable to react, both men are finished off and collapse to the floor from their knees. He puts one of his guns back into its holster and picks up the bag of money with his now empty hand. “You damn fools. I told you I was leaving with my money and a couple killings,” Jones says as he laughs. “Well that’s what I call a fine bonus.”

“If your drunk I suggest you lay off the bottle a while cause we need everyone alert” -Emerson Shaw

“If you love to kill and can do it as well as I can, then what better way to raise hell?” -Javier “Bones” Jones

Find out more: http://jbienvenue.webs.com/

Justin has also given me an article with tips on self-publishing so if you like what you read here keep posted.

P.S. Thanks for all the feedback for the first chapter of The Running Game : )

Thursday, 19 September 2013

Exclusive: First Chapter of The Running Game


The Running Game 
L E Fitzpatrick

Chapter 1

Five past eleven. Rachel’s shift should have finished three hours ago. She slammed her time-card into the machine. Nothing. She gives it a kick, then another until it releases, punching her card and signing her out for the night. The hospital locker room was unusually quiet. There was a nurse signing out for the night, two doctors signing in. Nobody spoke to each other – it wasn’t that kind of place. Grabbing her threadbare coat from her locker, she drew it over her scrubs – the only barrier between her and the unforgiving October night. She walked through the ER waiting room, eyes fixed on the exit. You had to ignore the desperation. Three hours over a twelve hour shift, you had no choice but to pretend like you didn’t care. Push past the mothers offering up their sick children like you could just lay your hands on them and everything would be better. Push past the factory workers bleeding out on the floor. Push that door open and get out. Get home. You had to. In six hours the whole thing would start again.
The first blast of cold air slapped the life into her aching body. The second blast nearly pushed her back inside. She tightened the coat around herself, for the good it would do. November was coming, and coming fast. She quickened her pace, trying to outrun the winter.
She hurried past the skeletal remains of another fallen bank, a relic of the days when there had been an economy. Now the abandoned building housed those left to the streets; the too old, the too young, the weak, the stupid. Cops would be coming soon, moving them on, pushing them from one shadow to another until dawn or death, whichever came first. But for now they sat, huddled around burning canisters, silently soaking in the heat as though they could carry that one flame through winter. They didn’t notice Rachel. Even the really bad men lurking in the doorways, waiting for helpless things to scurry past, overlooked the young doctor as she made her way home. Nobody ever saw her. At least they never used to.
Three – two – one. Right on cue. She felt someone watching her. It was always the same place, opposite the third window of the old bank. He was hidden, not in the bank but close. So close she could almost feel his breath on the back of her neck. She'd watched muggings before, these were desperate times and people took what they could when they could. There were rapes too, five this week, at least five that had needed medical care. It was a dangerous city and getting worse. But this was different. He – and for some reason she knew it was a he – did nothing. For a week he had been there, never betraying his position or his intentions, but she could feel him and the longer he waited the more he tormented her. He knew where she lived, where she worked, the route she took to the exchange store. And he escorted her home each night without ever showing himself. It made no sense. And that made it so much worse.
She wasn't intimidated easily, doctors in St Mary's couldn't be. It didn't matter that she was only five feet tall and looked like a strong wind would knock her down, she had to take care of herself. But the stalking had spooked her. The sleepless nights followed, wondering who he was, what he wanted, if he knew. There was nowhere for her to go in the city, no place she could hide, no escape. If she wanted to eat she had to work and he would be waiting for her outside the hospital – watching, doing nothing. She was tired of it, tired of everything, but there was something she could do. She could make it stop, one way or another. Whatever he had planned, whatever he wanted to do to her, he would have to look her in the eye as he did it, because she was done running.
She stopped walking and turned.
The street was empty. But she could still feel him there. The buildings pressed their darkness into the street and the spattering of hissing lamplights did little to expose the nocturnal danger below. There was noise, there was always noise; voices, vehicles, the persistent buzzing of the electricity struggling to reach the edges of the city. So much going on, so little to see – a perfect place to hide.
“Okay you pervert,” she whispered to herself. “Where’re you hiding?”
The road stretched back into a tightrope. Gingerly, her feet edged back towards the ruined bank. She scanned the buildings around her, the upper windows, the ground level doorways, waiting for him to pounce. One step – two step. Look. Nothing. She retraced her steps to the next building. Then the next. He felt so close – why couldn’t she see him?
“You want me, well here I am, you freak. Come and get me!”
There was a shout from the bank. Someone running. A man. Her stomach clenched. She braced herself. He pushed by her, hurrying away. It wasn’t him.
She turned confused and warm breath touched the back of her neck.
“Get down!” The world went white.

With her face pressed into the filthy, cold road, Rachel waited. The ground beneath her trembled but that was it. She frowned, waiting for something, trying to understand what she was doing laying in a stinking puddle at the side of the road. Hands were lifting her to her feet. She turned to the bank, but it was gone. Flames licked at the pile of rubble in its place. People stumbled from the wrecked building, choking and coughing, others with their eyes as wide open as their mouths. But there was no sound, just staggered movement and growing heat. Rachel watched, feeling more curious than afraid. The gawping, silent panic was fascinating. She made to move and her ears exploded with noise. The shock of it knocked her back. Screaming, cries for help, the ringing of sirens from every direction.
The ground shook again and the building exploded another mortar firework into the street. She felt her body being tugged away. But people were coming to help. People were still alive. She was a doctor, she was needed.
“I can help these people,” she shouted trying to fight off her restraint.
“It’s a lure bomb.” The voice was so cool it made her freeze. She looked at the stranger and swallowed the clumps of gravel lodged in the back of her throat. She had wanted to meet him face to face but not like this.
He stared at her with blank eyes. The dead and dying meant nothing to him. He was there for her and her alone. His hand still held her shoulder, holding her back. The hand that had pulled her to safety. So many questions ran through her head but she could only push one out.
“A lure bomb?”
A small explosion that drew in the police. Her mind raced to remember. Followed by the bigger bomb that would blow them to pieces. She turned back to the space where the bank should have been. More people were rushing to help, pulling at the arms and legs of the buried. If they were lucky bodies would come with them.
“We have to warn…” The man had gone.
The sirens grew louder.
Rachel drew in a steadying breath. Three hours over a twelve hour shift – you had no choice but to pretend like you didn’t care. She started to run.



So that's the first chapter - I'd love your thoughts and feedback. Would you like to read more? Send me your comments and I'll post up Chapter 2 soon.

Tuesday, 17 September 2013

The Observer Series – World of Fives by Phillip G Henley

It's a Tuesday night, the wind is blowing like something out of a bad disaster movie and I'm tucked up in bed - one eyed diabetic cat curled up on my feet. And from this corner of Autumnal luxury... wait I forgot the cup of tea - Also with a cup of tea perched on the bedside table... from this improved corner of Autumnal luxury I bring you another indie sample to get your literary teeth stuck into.
So drum roll please... your author tonight is Phillip G Henley and a little WIP project of his called The Observer Series - World of Fives.

 Mission Report
<<Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:25.01 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS
Data Load: 18Tb compressed.
Survey inspection methodology: x25-theta.  
Mission: 278934612d: Report 234985: Comment: Better than c was!
Reporting Officer: SenGeo Rodriguez in Command Survey Ship Theta-Carmalite.  In command.  I’m the only person on-board and its high time I was upgraded!  The ship creeks.
Sector: Kappa 456 Segment Tau 235 sub-segment four.  Next door to three
Mission Objectives: Observe Only, no interaction, no communication.  Never any fun these days.

Earth distance: 2081LY.  A long way from home.
Mission Date: 3678-12-23.  Nearly Christmas, how about a new ship for me?  Nice present.
Population:  Report 234986: Comment: Main humanoid species bipedal approximately one billion persons, unable to verify on local census system due to security barriers.  Unencrypted open radio communications, closed fibre based IT networks, microwaves.  Some fossil fuel use rapidly replaced by fusion provided electric power.  No military evident, near dictatorship government, stringent population control applied - too late food shortages likely.  Think China circa 21st century.  Some remaining religion, with varying belief systems one group worships the moons.  Government is technocrat in nature.  Space exploration at solar system stage, monitoring, weather, communications and new solar power testing.  Severe disruption to all orbiting systems due with convergence.
Secondary population large highly intelligent ocean borne predator.  Think clever shark, called translationSHAROK, crossed with a big whale.  Detectors show very deep dwelling, these seas are deep but they come right up to surface for birds and other surface prey including attacking surface ships and humanoids.  It’s mainly the Sharok’s planet but no tech.
The place is nearly all ocean so lots of fish, some birds, few reptiles although the Sharok has more reptilian traits and biology as far as I can tell.  Very  limited mammals, probably due to landmass restriction, humanoid development hunted many species as fishing is dangerous.  Near earth like atmosphere, maybe I should visit?  Just kidding.  
Gravity on main planet fractionally higher than Earth OK 1.021% as if it really matters.
Other observations as I go along.
Language:  Report 234987: Comment: Single language in use with some island specific local dialects.  Linguistic  analysis indicates translator able to cope.  Patched into their comms circuits listening to impending preparations for disaster.  Have CCTV from inside one main control room.  Language is very blunt and not a huge vocab’.

Numbers: Report 234988: Comment:  They love their fives.  They use Base 5 really confusing and the translator doesn’t always cope - so 11 = 6 in Base ten decimal notation.  26 is 101 and 126 is 1001.  Kilo and mega are used as well but their meanings are different kilo is a block of five digits, which is 10000 or 625 in decimal, 5 raised to the power of four.  A mega is 5 raised to the power of 9 which is 1,953,125 in decimal or 10000 00000 in base five and two blocks of five digits.  So a number expressed as 1m3  is 13000 00000 base five in long hand and equals 3.125 million decimal.  Confused?  So am I.
Time: Report 234989: Comment: There is 25 (decimal 100 base 5) hour day in five sections Sec 10:00 is sec-two but 10:00 would be written as 20 in Base five so 11 O’clock is 21 in base five and sec-two-one in speech.  In actual elapsed time the 24 hour day is roughly equivalent to an earth 22 hours relative time which is the spin rate of the planet on its axis.  The year lasts 624, in decimal, days approximately with a leap year needed every fifth year, (4444 base five).  This constitutes a complete solar orbit.  The year is split into five seasons (444 base five) and each season five weeks of five days.
Because the population live around the equator and there is only a minor 0.25 degree axis tilt there are in decimal 11 hours of daylight and night with an approximate one hour period at each end to cover twilight and dawn.
Sun - System Planets: Report 234990: Comment: Their Sol is approx 10% larger than ours but same G2V Type. There are five planets plus an asteroid belt between the two gas giants.

Singur
Report 234991: Comment: Singur is a small hot planet orbiting closest to the sun.  It has an elliptical orbit does not rotate and no moons.  Their Space probes have discovered a very strong magnetic field often seen with large solar flares bending towards the planet. 
Belgur
Report 234992: Comment: Belgur is similar to Fivur in size, but very hot.  It has one small moon, their recent probe landings have discovered similar soil to Fivur but no liquid and a very thin atmosphere of mixed carbon with very little oxygen and no nitrogen.  Despite the hopes of their mystery writers and some scientists no life exists.  It doesn’t, I checked.
Fivur
Report 234993: Comment: Effectively 95% of Fivur is water covered, including the two frozen Polar regions.  Five Islands are spread around the equator where the population lives.  The average temperature rarely varies in the region  Fivur’s climate for the population is tropical.  There are two polar ice caps and the magnetic field for north and south is weak.  East and west are not used, spinward and antispinward are the terms respectively for towards sunrise and sunset although on Fivur the directions are reversed compared to Earth.  On Earth when facing north, east (spinward) is on your right.  On Fivur when facing north, spinward (east) is to the left.  There is a major dispute about Fivur’s origins mixed in with a similar dispute over Xynor’s origins.  Most of their scientists now seem to believe that Xynor was originally another planet when the system developed in the mega mega years after the big bang but it was captured by Fivur’s gravitational field or collided with another moon/planet/comet.  Who knows/cares?  They have bigger problems to worry about.  Is that why this sector was on my list because of the convergence of the moons on the major planet or is that just coincidence?
Capsur
Report 234993: Comment: Capsur is the first of two gas giants .  It has four close moons and a multi strand ring, it is a long way out from the sun’s orbit.  Xynor’s elliptical orbit as a moon of Fivur almost reaches the planet’s orbit, which is very slow.  Excellent refuelling base, easy Hydrogen and Helium capture.  Tanks full and raring to go.
Plenur
Report 234994: Comment: Plenur is a massive gas giant planet with eight (decimal) moons.  It is unusual in that it’s distance from the sun is much greater than most gas giants.  Orbit is even slower than that of Capsur.  Boring but lots of gas.
Fivur Moons
Report 234995: Comment: Xynor, main current problem, highly elliptical approaching perigee, according to monitored comms causing the problems. With a bit of a nudge if I had the equipment I could put it into a sun orbit and stop this?  Slaynor - dense iron core upsetting their comms and my scanners five year orbit and will reach perigee with Xynor, understand the problem now. Trebnor - dull, Hasnor - duller, Gianor really quick almost caught one of my probes out.
Ship Status
Report 234995: Comment:  Orbiting clear of impending issues. Bored unless you let me do something save some humanoid lives, give them hope - they are nearly there.  A couple more steps on fusion path and they’ll be out here.  Fusion Shift research in early stages, but they could get breakthrough for sub-fusion drive and hypercoms at any stage.  Several researchers are in that field.  Fusion power driving development, evidence of dimensional research, maybe twenty years from breakthrough if this convergence as they call it doesn’t destroy them.
Recommendations - Let me HELP them before they are relegated back to the stone age by the moon convergence
Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:25.03 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS>>

<<Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:26.15 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS
Data Load: <1kb compressed.
Survey inspection methodology: x25-theta.  
Mission: 278934612d: Report 234985: Accepted receipt
Reporting Officer: GenGeo Ixlyztch Sector Command. NO
Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:25.16 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS>>

<<Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:27.00 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS
Data Load: <1kb compressed.
Survey inspection methodology: x25-theta.  

Mission: 278934612d: Request 100034:
Reporting Officer: SenGeo Rodriguez in Command Survey Ship Theta-Carmalite. PLEASE, let me DO something!
Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:27.10 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS>>

<<Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:28.00 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS
Data Load: <1kb compressed.
Survey inspection methodology: x25-theta.  
Mission: 278934612d: Request 100034: Pending
Reporting Officer: GenGeo Ixlyztch Sector Command. Will advise, No change in mission
Comms Transmission SGRINC67564 - 3678-12-23-1838:29.42 burst Key XGDES2056Blowfish#@GEOSURVEYS>>
Other titles by Phillip G Henley - The Persuasive Man, To The Survivors and An Agent's Demise available to buy from Amazon and Lulu find out more: http://phenweb.wordpress.com/about/


Right cup of tea is now cold and half empty ... or full depending on your mood. And maybe, just maybe if the Autumnal setting is just right the next post might be my new chapter... cue dramatic music.

As always if you want to contribute - post work or articles about publishing and writing then please do so - I'd love to hear from you. Send your stuff, your queries, or just your hate mail to lefitzpatrick@hotmail.co.uk and I will give you a spot in the Limelight.

Sunday, 15 September 2013

Dominae Primus - Extracts

This evening I've been reading extracts from the author Dominae Primus. These extracts and more are available to read for free from http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/1770

Rhyme and Reason - extracts


CRUMB, ICEBERG and GLIMMER


A few things to nourish us
in this request in verse
Give us a crumb from that loaf
A humble comfort blanket
Grant us a splinter of frost above
Findings spawn from tip of iceberg
Save some glow off the glimmer
Hope preserved and mirrored

Those who give shan't be in want
Those who receive in penury shan't
If they wisely give
and they wisely spend
There'll be none to grieve
But much to append


ANTIQUE STREET


Faded bronze picture pretty
where cracks add curiosity
mounting age make things vintage
authentic guarantee's pledge
yesterday's streets I tarry
Green moss carpets alley


A VERSE OF THANKS


I thank thee for thy patronage
rhyme like wine improves with age
though I shan't be a hermit sage
I'm glad thou had found this page


FOR VERSES' SAKE


There's nothing here at stake
But the reasons we state
come play for verses' sake
lines of prosaic prose break


HOPE IN THE DARKEST HOUR


The pall of the darkest hour
Is lifted by Faith's power
Let burn your resolve's ardour
There's relief in Hope's harbour!


World from my windowpane

The world is well and sane
From my eyeview's windowpane
While Good charged and shook its mane
Thoughts drift on a saunterly train


It's not too late

Lady Fortune nudges coyly
Pandora strikes stealthily
Hope stays in purposeful wait
All that's Good, it's not too late

About Dominae Primus


Dominae Primus writes action comedy, ranging from mock fairy tales to heavier doses of intensity which tread a fine balance of humour, imagination and engaging action. In addition, Dominae Primus has also released a compilation of philosophical reflections and poetry.


Commercial titles include Absolutely Done, Second Chances, Granary County, !Attention!, Daily Doses and Vital Verses.


For the future, Dominae Primus stories are expected to include more imaginative elements fusing with a backdrop of spirituality and constant doses of humour. The author believes that there is more towards understanding this life than the external realities perceived by the senses.


The author also has literary compositions available in digital libraries hosted by reputable universities in North America, Europe and Asia besides the main archive of Project Gutenberg based at University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, USA. The author maintains a weblog at http://dominaeprimus.blogspot.com


If you want your work posted here please email me at lefitzpatrick@hotmail.co.uk with an extract ... Oh I'm just working on my proofed copy of my new book The Running Game, coming soon I promise.