Wednesday, May 27, 2015

THE CRYSTAL CURSE

Cover Reveal:

The Crystal Curse

Book 4 - Legends of the Winged Scarab

(scheduled for publication in June)



Prologue

Deep beneath Hawara, a site near the Fayum Oasis, there sleeps an enormous complex known as The Lost Labyrinth of Egypt. While the mysterious compound is said to have once been comprised of over three thousand rooms, the origins of this ancient palace are shrouded in the mist of time. Some believe its builders came from an ancient civilization and those ruins predate Egypt’s earliest cultural awakening by several millennia.
     Swirling on the winds of the khamsin are the legends about a mythical beast living deep within these tunnels. As the dunes shift under the capricious updrafts, the remnants of a chamber might be laid bare only to be reburied by yet another layer of sand.
     A few even tell of wondrous crystals growing within this complex, insisting that gold and precious stones await those who brave the stifling maze. For a brief moment, awestruck whispers turn into speculation. But thoughts of plunder are quickly doused as the legends warn:
No one escapes the crushing coils
of El-Hanash, the Crystal Snake.
For such is The Crystal Curse.

* * *


Saturday, May 16, 2015

Christoph Fischer’s Newest Novel

Cover Reveal
 


Writer Christoph Fischer has turned Gambler!
At least, with his newest novel

Coming June 1, 2015
  
THE GAMBLERS
Ben is an insecure accountant obsessed with statistics, gambling and beating the odds. When he wins sixty-four million in the lottery he finds himself challenged by the possibilities that his new wealth brings.

He soon falls under the influence of charismatic Russian gambler Mirco, whom he meets on a holiday in New York. He also falls in love with a stewardess, Wendy, but now that Ben’s rich he finds it hard to trust anyone. As both relationships become more dubious, Ben needs to make some difficult decisions and figure out who’s really his friend and who’s just in it for the money.
Look for The Gamblers on June 1st

The book is available on Pre-Sale now on  Amazon: http://smarturl.it/TheGamblers

Reading Fischer's Books is one Gamble that'll make you a Winner!

Friday, May 1, 2015

Kay Hadashi’s Hawaiian Island Breezes


Back in 2013, I introduced Kay Hadashi’s start of a new historical thriller series of Old Japan.

Kay tells me that Bugeisha Dreams has since evolved into a
stand-alone book with a new cover.




However, Kay’s delightful heroine, June Kato, was much too good to let go. Kay came up with the new Island Breeze Series. These novellas follow June in her transition from top LA neurosurgeon to Maui transplant (no pun intended I am sure as June Kato is, after all, a neurosurgeon).
     Among tropical flowers and old legends, June finds a husband and starts a family. Of course, nothing is ever simple for this exotic beauty; she finds life on the tropical island of Maui comes with a price. Even though her life has become simpler in some ways, there is plenty of adventure around orchids and pineapple plants, and Pele, the fiery goddess of Haleakala.
     The stories include Hawaiian legends (and maybe a few ghosts), promising to be smashing hits with Kay’s readers who, I think, will be as fascinated by these exotic fables as I am.


Kay has written many other exciting novels, novellas and short story collections.
Check them out here:

Monday, April 27, 2015

I Feel Vindicated

Excerpted from Ancient Origins http://www.ancient-origins.net/

“… Memphis once carried the name Ineb-hedj, meaning ‘White Walls’…”

 
  Artist's depiction of the white walls of the Great Temple of Ptah at Memphis. (Public domain)

Way back, in the early 90s, when I started my research for KHAMSIN (without the help of Google-search), I had a devil of a time to find the earliest name for Memphis. Even a museum curator (or his assistant) replied to my query with a disappointingly obtuse answer.

At last, glancing through some old accounts of Manetho, I think (it coulnd’t have been Flinders Petrie or Howard Carter because they wrote about Memphis as Menefer, etc.), I settled on Ineb-hedj, City of White Walls (and have often since wondered if I was wrong in doing so).

Then, I subscribed an the excellent blog entitled Ancient Origins. It has all sorts of astounding facts about our history. But today, it featured an article that made me grin all over my face: Russian Archaeologists Unearth Legendary White Walls of Memphis.


Writing about Ancient Egypt is tricky if you want to adhere to the original names without confounding the lay reader. After all, a historical fiction novel should be entertaining; but if one learns something in the process that is based on fact (provided it is well researched), the better, I say.

I think I’ll sleep well tonight knowing I got at least one thing right.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

James M. Hockey, Author of Dark Age Novels


Launch of Edith Fair as a Swan
(Book 3)


James M. Hockey was born in a Ham Stone cottage set on the side of an Iron Age Hill Fort. This is known as Ham Hill and bears the evidence of ancient British and Roman occupation. It is in the west country of England, King Arthur country. In other words, his birth put him smack into the middle of his stories – it just took him a few years to find his inspiration to write 



The Tales of Bowdyn series:

The Axe the Shield and the Triton (Book 1)

The Axe the Shield and the Halig Rood (Book 2)

Edith Fair as a Swan (Book 3)




I pressed him for details how he came to write his trilogy, and he told me this:

I had always thought I would like to write stories but everything I wrote was pretentious claptrap and ended life in the bin. Until I became tied to a particular area of the west country of England that is steeped in history. However, it took nearly sixty years when, on a nostalgic visit, I came across the story of the Holy Rood. I decided to write the story of a cross of ill omen and how it came to be buried on St. Michaels Hill.

What I didn't know was that as the story developed I would not only write The Axe the Shield and the Triton, Bowdyn Volume 1, 450+AD but then found myself writing The Axe the Shield and the Halig Rood, Bowdyn Volume 2, 500+ADfollowed by Edith Fair as a Swan, Bowdyn Volume 3, 1066+AD.

As if that weren’t enough, I am now working on Atland the Lost, Bowdyn Volume 4, 6500 BCE; with the final volume Wothans Army, to be Bowdyn Volume 5, covering a period from the Dark Ages up to the 17th century.

The series spans the history of a people over eight thousand years. Of course many scholars would consign it to the bin but it is just fiction after all. The research would have taken a lifetime if I had to rely on libraries and written works. Fortunately we live in a golden age for the writer of historical fiction, for we have Google, dare I say it, Wikipedia and, through my library card, the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography not to mention the Oxford English Dictionary for finding words for the earlier volumes with an Old English origin.

For book descriptions, reviews by his readers, and purchase options,
visit James Hockey’s 
Also check out his website: http://wyrdsisterspublishing.co.uk/

Read Historical Novel Society Reviews of all three books on their site:
Tales of Bowdyn-HNS Reviews







Sunday, March 29, 2015

Write What You Know


     If they mean, what you have experienced personally - Yes, and No.
     Just think how poor literature would be without the boundless imagination of writers. I have always been fascinated and grateful to be able to escape to exotic places with larger-than-life characters. So what if I have to look up words and places? It’s a wonderful way to learn and grow, as I have with the great writers.
     On the other hand, personal experiences inevitably do slip into our own writing. You can’t help it, no matter how brilliant your research or how faraway a setting is. People we know, love–or don’t love quite so much–find their way into our characters, changing to our whim like chameleons.
     After I published KHAMSIN, The Devil Wind of The Nile, a novel about Ancient Egypt, some people did ask me if I had been “there.” In 3080 BC, nobody’s been there. Everything else can be gleaned from pouring over the many great archaeological outpourings. In weaving it all together, of course, we are on your own.
     Then came SIROCCO, Storm over Land and Sea. Now, here I did draw on my own sailing/cruising experience and the intimate knowledge of life on a sailboat. I also vividly remember the not-so-pleasant times when our metal mast was the only thing sticking up—in a lightning storm. Suddenly, a dark shadow looms high above you riding on the crest of a monster wave—all you want to do then is to run home to mother!
     When I wrote After the Cataclysm, I imagined a huge steel monster almost running the little Esperanza down and I remembers how my skipper loved to blast Wagner’s powerful music of The Flying Dutchman over the outside speakers when things got rough.
*

Excerpt from After the Cataclysm -Part III, Chapter 8
 © Inge H. Borg

“Shiiiiiit!”
     The panic-stricken shout from inside the wheelhouse was followed by the cough of the ignition being turned over time and again. The starter didn’t catch. The wheelhouse door was ripped open. “The bastard’s going to run us down,” Sam cried into the dark cockpit.
     Jonathan pushed Naunet away and jumped up, almost crumpling into the well. His left leg had fallen asleep as he had held Naunet, comforting her, assuring her that everything would turn out all right. “Get on the horn!”
     Sam had already flipped the switch of the shortwave. He grasped the mike and pressed the ‘transmit’ button so hard he was afraid he would embed it into the surrounding plastic.
     “Sécurité, sécurité, sécurité,” the youth cried into the mike as if the higher volume of his voice would make a difference. “This is the sailing vessel Esperanza.” He shakily gave their coordinates and heading. “Large ship bearing down on us, please alter course to west-northwest. We are unable to move out of your way.” He depressed the button. Jonathan and he held their breath for an answer hoping the other guy on watch wasn’t dozing.
     Panic transmits itself quickly throughout the confines of a small boat. By now everyone crowded into the wheelhouse. They did not dare to say anything as they waited for a reply to Sam’s urgent transmission, imagining what would happen if it did not come. Too many large ships never knew they had run down a sailboat. Not until, by daylight or in the next port, they found tattered rigging dangling from one of their bow anchors. In his mind, Jonathan ticked off the steps required to release their lifeboat canister strapped down on deck in front of the main mast. Oh God, he prayed, let the damn thing cross in front of us just this one time.
     “Sailing vessel Esperanza,” a pleasant, nonchalantly professional voice boomed back at them. “We have you on radar. Passing to your starboard now.”
Suddenly, the slapping of their luffing mainsail, deprived of its breeze, was eclipsed by an overwhelming rhythmic pulsing. Jonathan engaged the autopilot. It would hold the Esperanza steadier than any human could; especially since her humans did not feel steady at all. Despite the terror in their hearts, they rushed outside.
     “Shiiiiiit!” Sam hollered again as he gawked up at a wall of steel towering above them, obliterating the moon. Its passage seemed to last forever. There was only the faintest of light coming from the high bridge.
     Jonathan suddenly remembered that the ship had not identified herself during her last transmission. On top of it, not running any navigation lights at night was a definite no-no in any sailor’s book. “Bastard,” he breathed, and then remembered they themselves were running dark. As the moon re-emerged, he knew they would now be bounced around from the propeller wash.
     “Hold on!” he shouted.
     The radio in the wheelhouse crackled to life again. “God speed, sailors,” the voice said and then added, “Sorry about the wake.”
     “Bastard,” Bill echoed Jonathan’s sentiment.

* * *



Friday, March 20, 2015

I Think I Died

But I certainly did not go to Heaven. Instead, I seem to be stuck in book-purgatory where all those writers go who haven't made the best-seller lists. Lately, I haven't even been able to attract a single reader; nor a smidgen of reviewers of those four-thousand downloads of my free promotion of SIROCCO. What gives, people? Like it, hate it, just tell me already.


Naturally, I am depressed asking myself 'What's wrong with me?' Or maybe I should be asking 'What's wrong with my books,' instead?

Perhaps the fault lies in that I haven't thrown up another novel lately. I am working on Book 4 of my Legends of the Winged Scarab series. However, true to form, I needed to do a lot of research and kept nitpicking to achieve the perfect 'literary' feel .... "Ugh," you say? Well, in my book (pardon the pun), it is still required to produce the best erudite writing I can.

Then, the thought hit me: Perhaps, I haven't sprinkled in enough violence and raw sex. Talking about research. I am a happy hermit in a retirement community; so, what do you want of me? Memories of my long-past trials and tribulations? Wouldn't fit into that series (okay, you can always read Edward, Con Extraordinaire - FREE - and get a glimpse of an extraordinary encounter with a persuasive scoundrel). Other than that, I'll be damned if I'm going to tell all. Too deliciously private.

Now my quandary is: Do I stay dead - or am I to arise like Lazarus. After all, Easter is just around the corner...

"Okay, Borg, there is only one thing to reignite the interest of your readers. Let me quote Nora Roberts, 'Ass in Chair,' the one thing that produces books."

Got it. Back into the chair to finish Book 4 - Coming soon, provided said chair et al retain their springs.


Friday, February 20, 2015

Acronyms, Nothing but Acronyms

     As a writer, I am expected to speak and definitely write in complete sentences without the use of acronyms (unless properly explained).
     The latest three letters in use baffled me: SNL. They were all over the media and at first I thought it was something out of FSOG (here we go again). I wasn't really curious. Still, I finally Googled the darn things: SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE! Who knew?
     Not I. But then, I am a dinosaur as far as language is concerned. You see, I still expect people to tell me something without the annoying “like,” and “you know,” and “I mean” so freely interspersed these days, especially by the young.
     As I scrolled down, I came across another another meaning of SNL. Oops, seems I wasn't too far off the first time. It apparently also stands for “Sex Now or Leave.”
     Good bye.

Monday, February 2, 2015

Love's in the Air

    Will Valentine’s Day leave you out in the cold because you don’t have that someone special in your life right now? That certain heart-throb to shower you with champagne, chocolates and flowers and—if you have been a really good girl—diamonds?
    Do not despair. With a good book, you are never alone because now, you can vicariously step into someone else’s shoes and dream about a hunky admirer. But be careful what you wish for…

    Just for you, and for a limited time only, I've discounted my 150-page Romantic Suspense Novella, Shadow Love, to 99 cents (down from $2.99).
   After you read it, do tell me what you think of my foray into contemporary women’s fiction. Leave a review; we authors really appreciate feedback for our hard work.



Available in print from Amazon, and several e-book formats at these sites:


Follow me on Twitter - https://twitter.com/@AuthorBorg
And please tweet this to your Followers:
* * *
RT-Love’s in the air, but it casts a shadow in #ShadowLove by Inge H. Borg, #Romantic #Suspense, briefly only 99¢.




Sunday, February 1, 2015

Naming a Crater on Mercury

I did. Well, not yet, but I entered a competition to 'immortalize an important person in the Arts and Humanities from any nation or cultural group by having a crater on the planet Mercury named in their honor!' We'll know the winners (there are many craters that need names) in March or April.

It's one of those things you find diddling around the Internet. Of course, I couldn't resist and named Peter Rosegger. Peter Who?

* * *
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia -
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peter_Rosegger




Portrait of Peter Rosegger


Peter Rosegger (31 July 1843 – 26 June 1918) was an Austrian poet from the province of Styria.

He was a son of a farmer and grew up in the forests and fields. Rosegger (or Rossegger) went on to become a most productive poet and author as well as an insightful teacher and visionary.

In his later years, he was honoured by officials from various Austrian universities and the city of Graz (the capital of Styria). He was nearly awarded the Nobel Prize in 1913 and is (at least among the people of Styria) something like a national hero to this day.




* * *
You may or may not know, I was born in Graz/Styria (yes, Arnold, too -- you are not saying: Arnold Who?).

And so, I though that our most beloved poet/writer should have his own crater - especially since he was nearly awarded the Nobel Prize.


When I was in second grade, I remember our class outing to Rosegger's birthplace.

First, we went in a rickety old bus (it was 1949) to the valley below. Then it was a two-hour hike (we were just little kids with an apple and a hunk of cheese in our rucksack for lunch).

Across alpine meadows crewel-worked with blue gentian, yellow buttercups and tiny white margaritas, past grazing cows and through stands of old trees.



At last, tuckered out with blisters from ill-fitting post-war shoes, we stood facing the tiny house, practically tiptoeing through the even tinier dark rooms. Perhaps it was then that the seed for writing took hold deep within me...who knows.



Nowadays, the tourists come by the busload right up to the house where they can rest, eat and still their thirst at a typical Gasthof.







Competition is closed - but you can read more about this fun project - and do keep your fingers crossed for me. I think it would really be something if the powers that be chose Peter Rosegger, my Austrian poet.

Find out more here:
http://namecraters.carnegiescience.edu/home