Taste of Kiwi

The theme for this week is secondary characters. I enjoy writing secondary characters because they’re allowed to do and say all the things the hero and heroine can’t. In fact, I think they have all the fun parts. My excerpt today is from book two in my Talking Dog series, Never Send a Dog to do a Woman’s Job. The heroine’s family are worried about her new job squiring an alien around New Zealand, and now that they’ve managed to get him alone, they’re giving him the third degree

Never Send a Dog to do a Woman’s Job by Shelley Munro

They stowed his bags and piled into a vehicle called a land something or other. Luke and Killer took the passenger seat and Richard drove. Alex was hemmed in the rear, a potential target between the bodyguard and the explorer. The only weapon he had to protect himself with was an Earth jacket.

Alex clicked the seat belt into place and cast a sardonic glance at each of the Dalcon women who flanked him. Time for the attack to begin.

“I told you,” Janaya stated in a hard voice, “to make sure you had travel inoculations before you left Dalcon. I told you of the consequences.”

“You informed me of the dangers of bonding and made it clear what would happen if Lily was coerced into a bond with me. I listened to everything you said, but there was a problem. I’m allergic to fodo quills.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Luke demanded, his bronzed face darkening with anger as he glared from the passenger seat. Killer punctuated her displeasure with a low, hair-raising growl.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Hinekiri said, breaking the sudden tension. “He needed Lily, so he didn’t mention his allergy. This business venture of yours must be real important to you.”

They didn’t know the half of it, Alex thought. If he’d stayed in the palace for much longer he’d have lost every brain cell. And insanity wasn’t the done thing for a prince. No telling what indignities the King would have forced on him in the nature of a tonic-fix.

“I’ve invested a lot of time and money,” Alex said in wry understatement. Not to mention run away from home, dodged his bodyguards and spent a fortune on the Driscoll witch spell to disguise his looks. Money well spent since none of them seemed to recognize him as Prince Alexandre. The old crone who’d sold him the spell had assured him he would appear the exact opposite in appearance. Dalconians would see him as dark and plain, the exact same reflection he saw whenever he looked in a mirror now. It had taken a little getting used to seeing a stranger, but he had grown to love the anonymity. Alex considered conducting a test of sorts to ease his agitation but gave up the idea. He didn’t want to call attention to himself any more than necessary. “Why did you give me an introduction letter if you didn’t trust me?”

“We had second thoughts,” Janaya stated with quiet dignity. “And we wanted to pick up some fishing gear. Besides, you told us you had the inoculations covered.”

“The medical man prescribed pills.”

“Then why didn’t you take them?” Janaya muttered, spearing him a look of distaste. “If my sister-in-law must bond with a Dalconian then at least he should have a few looks going for him.”

Hinekiri reached past him to slap Janaya on the leg. “Manners! I’m ashamed of you. The male can’t help how he looks.”

Alex wanted to chuckle and cheer out loud. Proof that the spell was working. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it. Looks aren’t everything.” He just wished that everyone else didn’t put such stock in his looks. “And I took the pills. I’m still taking the pills. I’ve no idea why they’re not working. Lily seems pleasant, but I don’t wish to bond with any female.”

Hinekiri took hold of his chin and stared deep into his eyes before looking at Janaya. “If you ask me the male’s telling the truth.”

“That’s it then,” Janaya said. “I’ll have to shoot him.”

“I haven’t done anything.” Alex felt his face heat with anger. “I want to do research for my business. I’m not looking for an Earth woman to mate with,” he gritted out.

Richard pulled up on the side of the road with a screech of brakes. “I can’t concentrate on driving with you sniping at each other. You’re acting like children. If you can’t behave in the backseat, I’m gonna put the lot of you out and you can walk to Sloan.”

Stunned silence met his announcement.

“Looks like rain,” Luke said cheerfully.

Richard speared a glare at his son. “One more smart-ass comment and you can go with them.”

Purchase from Ellora’s Cave or Amazon Kindle

To read more Snippet Saturday excerpts follow the trail below:

Mari Carr
HelenKay Dimon
Eliza Gayle
Shelley Munro
Lauren Dane
Vivian Arend
Shelli Stevens
Taige Crenshaw
McKenna Jeffries
Ashley Ladd
Jody Wallace
TJ Michaels

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This week’s theme is humor. One thing I notice in most of my reviews is the mention of humor. I don’t set out to write humor, but it appears to creep in when I’m not looking. My excerpt is taken from my debut Ellora’s Cave title, Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters.

Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters by Shelley Munro

“We’re gonna crash. Buckle up.”

“What?” Janaya spun around to gape at her aunt, Hinekiri. One look told her the truth. Hinekiri wasn’t teasing.

Janaya gulped and scowled out a porthole at the rapidly approaching blue planet and muttered a succinct curse, trying to halt her escalating panic. Tendrils of icy fear curled around her insides. Her worst fear come to life. “I thought you said this…this antique had plenty of life yet.” She fumbled with the harness straps and another weak curse slipped out when the ship plunged into white, fluffy clouds sending her stomach swooping toward her toes.

“Ah, good.” Her aunt’s voice held satisfaction, despite their impending doom. “You worked your way through the Earth-speak tapes.”

Janaya stared at her aunt, speechless for an instant, before her gaze slid past the porthole once more. She swallowed and imagined shaking Hinekiri until her teeth rattled and good sense reigned. The image didn’t ease her panic any.

“We’re gonna bloody crash,” Janaya shrieked. “Pay attention. What do I do? I don’t know anything about flying this bucket of bolts. I’m a bodyguard.”

“Yes, dear, and I’m very proud of you.”

“Hinekiri!” The only reason she’d boarded this ship was because fear for her aunt’s life was greater than her dislike of flying. She was beginning to regret her impulse big time.

“I said we were crashing,” her aunt said. “I don’t believe I mentioned death.”

“You… When we land, I’m going to damage you,” Janaya gritted out.

“Tsk-tsk.” Her aunt waggled her forefinger while she nonchalantly maneuvered the manual steering controls. The ship groaned in loud protest and if anything, they picked up in speed. “I thought you stowed away to protect me from the bad guys.” A teasing grin flashed, lighting up her lined face. “Not do their dirty work for them.”

“Tell. Me. What. To. Do.” They were gonna die. Janaya was sure of it. She’d never live to set foot on Dalcon again. She’d never get the captain’s promotion she was aiming for, the promotion she’d earned by sheer hard work. And Santana would find someone else.

“Harness up and let me concentrate.”

Tension seeped through Janaya’s body, finding an outlet in her white-knuckled grip, as she watched her aunt calmly prepare to crash.

“I thought you said most of the Earth’s surface is water,” she blurted, her gaze darting from the porthole on her right to her aunt and back.

“That’s right, dear.”

“Are we going to land in water?”

Her aunt looked up from the panel of controls and frowned. “Can’t you swim?”

Janaya bit her bottom lip to keep the curse that trembled on her tongue contained. “Yes, I can swim.” The quirk of Hinekiri’s top lip gave her away, and Janaya’s shallow breaths eased out with a relieved hiss.

Chances were good that her aunt was…ah yes…pulling her leg. When she stood with both feet firmly on the ground again, she’d feel more in charge. After an aggrieved glare at her aunt, she amended the thought. Maybe not.

“Assume crash position.”

Janaya stared at her aunt. Then with morbid fascination, her gaze drifted to the bridge view port. Instead of the water she’d expected, she saw land. Flashes of green, trees, then a sea of gold.

The initial impact jolted her body and clacked her teeth together. Behind her, something crashed to the floor—probably one of the stupid Earth-speak tapes her aunt had insisted she view and assimilate. The ship hurtled off the ground then hit again.

“He-haw!” her aunt shouted, one hand raised in the air, her wiry body riding the impact despite the constraints of her harness.

Janaya lacked the same exhilaration as they bounced across the ground barely missing a large tree. The sturdy branches gouged the protective outer shell of their ship as they zipped past.

“I’ll try for up in those hills.” Her aunt jabbed at the controls, and the ship responded sluggishly before hurtling to the ground again. Trees and hills passed in front of Janaya’s horrified eyes.

What felt like hours later but was probably only a matter of minutes, they settled feet short of a dilapidated building, up on the hill. The stench of metal fatigue lay heavy in the air.

“I need to stand on the ground,” Janaya muttered. “Now. Is it safe?” Nausea worked up her throat. In a panic, clumsy fingers clawed at the restraining harness. In the end, her aunt leaned over to release the lever.

“No problems with the atmosphere here,” her aunt said. “New Zealand, according to my charts. Clean and green.”

Janaya needed no further urging. She stumbled out the door, dragging in huge breaths of fresh air until her lungs ached. Gradually, the panic attack subsided leaving her shaky and embarrassed. Make that mortified.

Thank the Gods her aunt had been the only witness.

Hinekiri strode down the narrow exit steps from the ship and stopped beside her. She patted Janaya on the shoulder in a silent gesture of comfort. “Janaya, we need to camouflage the ship so the Earth people don’t stumble across it.”

“All right. I—” The small hairs at the back of her neck prickled to life. Janaya stilled, her eyes narrowing as her gaze swiveled to survey the area around the ship. Her hand slid toward her hip.

“Back on the ship,” she snapped to her aunt as she pulled her weapon free. “Now.”

To her right, the leaves of a fern shuddered. Janaya scented the air. Sweat. Torgon sweat.

“Come on out with your fingers poked inside your ears,” she ordered, aiming her neutralizing weapon at the dark green bushes that had moved.

“That would be, hands in the air,” her aunt said.

Janaya shrugged, not taking her eyes off the leafy plant. “What ever. I have a weapon. Come out.”

The fern leaves shook, dried leaves crackled underfoot. Janaya’s outstretched hand never wavered, the heavy weapon still pointing at the bushes.

“Don’t shoot.” A black nose thrust past a lacy fern leaf.

Janaya’s eyes widened.

A black face with black eyes poked into view. “Are ya gonna shoot?”

“Janaya put the weapon down. It’s a dog. Nothing to get trigger happy about.”

“Yeah,” the little dog said. It stepped into full view. The dog stood below knee height and had white fur peppered liberally with black spots. It trotted closer, tail wagging. “Do ya have any food?”

Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters is the first book in the Talking Dogs series. Purchase from Ellora’s Cave.

To read more excerpts follow the Snippet Saturday links below:

McKenna Jeffries
Vivian Arend
TJ Michaels
Kelly Maher
Ashley Ladd
Shelley Munro
Taige Crenshaw
Lauren Dane
Mari Carr
Shelli Stevens
Lissa Matthews

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This week’s critter is a hyena and pup. This photo was taken in Kenya, and we stopped to watch the mother and three pups. Her burrow was right near the road. They’re not the prettiest creatures, but they are interesting to watch.

Hyenas aren’t exactly common in romantic fiction. As it happens I’ve recently read Ilona Andrews’ novella Magic Mourns (part of the Must Love Hellhounds anthology) and the hero and heroine in her story are hyena shifters.

I’ve also used hyenas as part of the plot of Romantic Interlude, the third story in my Talking Dogs series. If you’d like an armchair journey to both New Zealand and Africa then this is the story for you.

This is the link to visit other Camera Critters.

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In 1996 my husband and I decided we’d like a dog for both company and to give us an incentive to go for a walk each day. We had a very small section at the time and needed a dog to suit. We also decided to re-home an unwanted dog rather than purchase a pedigree animal and wanted an older dog instead of a puppy. With this in mind, our first port of call was the nearest SPCA. We visited on several weekends, but most of the dogs were larger ones with definite Pit Bull ancestry. Not quite what we were looking for.

Our search led us to the Humane Society next. Yes, they had three fox terrier-cross dogs that required homes. One was a confirmed digger, another was younger and quite nervous, but they thought the third dog might suit us—a female of around three years. She had lived on a farm and her owners had moved to a town. Her determined straying became a problem, and she needed a new owner. Would we like to meet her?

The following weekend we drove to Orewa, north of Auckland to meet our prospective dog. The first time I saw Scotty I thought what an ugly little dog. She looks like a fox terrier but is a little larger. She has a black head and a white coat with mottled black spots on most of her body. On her back toward is rump is one large black spot about the size of a tennis ball. She still has her tail, which pleased us very much since my husband and I like dogs with tails. It’s the personality factor for us. The interesting thing is that my husband thought she was a plain-looking dog too, but if anyone dared to say that to either of us now, we’d argue long and loud.

We ended up taking Scotty home with us. She settled into our routine very easily, the toilet training no problem at all. We decided we’d walk her morning and night and we’ve kept that routine up until recently.

From the start she never barked much. She didn’t like magazines near her, especially if they were rolled up or having her head touched, although she’s grown out of this. Scotty has a delightful personality, and I’ve never known her to bite anyone. When my husband used to work a lot of nights, Scotty would disappear around our usual bed time. I’d go to our bedroom and find that she’d jumped on our bed and dragged back the duvet cover and sometimes the sheets. I’d find her curled up in a ball, fast asleep. It was like having hotel turn-down service, but she only did it if my husband was working nights.

Fast forward in time. We’ve had Scotty for thirteen years and she’s now almost sixteen, a good age for a dog. Throughout the years, her health has been excellent. She has slowed down a lot, her face turning quite gray and both her eyesight and hearing greatly reduced. This year she’s lost a lot of weight and developed problems with her spine, losing much of the feeling in her hindquarters. She’s having trouble getting up and down, sometimes requiring help to get to her feet. She tends to lean on walls and other items of furniture for balance. We’re closely monitoring her condition and she’s on medication, which seems to help a little.

I’ve read that the measure of quality of life for a dog comes in the form of three questions.

1. Does the animal still have a healthy appetite?
2. Is the animal in pain?
3. Is the animal able to continue with normal toilet procedures or do they lie in their waste?

Scotty has always had a good appetite and this continues. She never complains and remains happy for us to pick her up if she falls over or for a cuddle. Mostly she’s pretty good with her toilet practices, although I have to be vigilant if she’s inside. If she goes to sleep in her basket sometimes she can’t move quick enough to get outside in time.

Her lack of mobility is a problem though. When she walks her spine is arched and her fur along her backbone is very erect all the time, as if she’s angry or about to attack. If she lies down for too long, she finds it difficult to get up and often falls over. When she is moving around she often turns in circles because her hindquarters don’t function as they should. And as I mentioned earlier, she has lost condition despite her good appetite.

While she seems relatively happy, there is no doubt her health is deteriorating quickly, almost weekly. It’s not fair to prolong a dog’s life (or any pet’s life) when their life lacks quality. The day is fast approaching when we’ll have to make the decision to have her put down, and it’s breaking my heart. She’s offered faithful companionship, given us incentive to exercise and even inspired the first book I sold to Ellora’s Cave. Life won’t be the same without her small furry face around the place.

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It’s Snippet Saturday again, and this week’s theme is Fight Scene (physical). My excerpt is from one of my earlier Ellora’s Cave books, a contemporary sci-fi called Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters. Don’t forget to check out this week’s other snippets by following the links below.

TALKING DOGS, ALIENS & PURPLE PEOPLE EATERS by Shelley Munro

Janaya froze, her right hand on the Earthman’s upper thigh. His hands curled around her shoulders and lifted her off him. His eyes crinkled at the corners in silent laughter. She felt answering warmth in her cheeks. The heat intensified when she heard her aunt’s cackle.

The dog growled suddenly, a low deep rumble that raised the hairs at the back of Luke’s neck. Luke leapt to his feet as two figures in lilac one-piece suits sprang from beneath the drooping leafy strands of a rimu tree. They charged Hinekiri, shiny weapons the size of a handgun extended in front of them.

Janaya thrust Hinekiri behind her and faced the alien mercenaries.

Luke gaped up at them. It was hard not to. The lilac duo stood at around six foot, with long white blond hair and equally pale skin. Their faces seemed to bleed into their hair making it look as though they had no face. Their pale white eyes reinforced the nothingness. Luke had no idea what sex they were. But he knew one thing. The sneers on their colorless lips were mean and he agreed with Janaya. They didn’t intend to leave survivors.

“Give us the charts and the journals and we’ll let you go,” Luke heard a guttural voice order.

“Bite my arse,” Janaya snapped. Balanced lightly on her feet, she held her hands in a defensive position. Luke stepped up beside her, thinking he’d love to bite her ass along with a few other parts.

“Take Hinekiri and lock yourselves inside the ship,” she said without taking her eyes off the aliens.

“I’m not leaving—”

The lilac duo rushed them. Luke pulled out his gun but Janaya moved even faster. She spun about and let rip with a kick at one of the weapons. It glinted silver as it flew through the air. The other alien fired. The violet flash from the weapon was blinding, close enough to sear his eyeballs. But it missed.

Janaya closed the distance between them in one bounding step and smashed her knee into the alien’s face.

“Go, Janaya!” Hinekiri cheered from behind him.

“Get her in the ship,” Janaya snarled over her shoulder.

Luke gestured at Hinekiri with a jerk of his head. “Do as she says. Let Janaya concentrate on what she needs to do.”

“We may as well,” the dog complained. “They don’t have food.”

Once he was sure Hinekiri was inside the ship, he turned back to Janaya. She feinted a move to the right then lashed out with another lethal blow with her right foot. She landed a kick. Luke heard the crack of bones as one of the aliens crashed to the ground. Janaya pointed her weapon at the still form and calmly pulled the trigger. The alien disintegrated before his eyes, leaving nothing but a pile of smoking embers.

Luke stared, shock holding him immobile. Janaya stalked the other alien.

It backed up then fumbled for its weapon. Luke noticed the weapon shook despite the alien’s scowling bravado.

“Police,” Luke shouted. “Put the weapon down.” Healthy fear slithered through his veins as the alien’s cold gaze sliced through him, rampant with the promise of retaliation.

“Stay out of this,” the alien snarled, brandishing his weapon at Luke.

Luke froze, glancing at the pile of dust that was all that remained of the dead alien. He didn’t want to end up like that.

Behind him, the dog barked. Luke watched it dart into the low scrub to the right of the spaceship. Seconds later, the dog shot out behind the alien and sank sharp teeth into the back of his calf.

“Get the devil creature off,” the alien shouted and shook his leg vigorously, kicking out and swinging the dog through the air.

With the alien distracted, Janaya jumped him, hitting out with her fist. Off-balance, the alien wobbled then toppled to the ground with the dog still attached to his leg.

Janaya didn’t hit like a girl, Luke thought pursing his lips in a silent whistle of admiration.

Note: This is book one in my Talking Dog series. It is also available in a print anthology featuring the first two Talking Dog books, Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters and Never Send a Dog to do a Woman’s Job.

Follow the links to read other snippets:

Anya Bast
Cynthia Eden
SJ Day
Vivi Anna
Jaci Burton
Mandy Roth
Michelle Pillow
Juliana Stone
Moira Rogers
Sacha White
TJ Michaels
Maura Anderson
Beth Kery
Jody Wallace
Eliza Gayle
Kelly Maher
Elisabeth Naughton
Taige Crenshaw
Beth Williamson

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One of the people I correspond with is an aspiring writer and she asked me about language in sci-fi romances. She was having problems with words to describe things in her sci-fi work that didn’t sound plain stupid. She wanted to know how I attack this aspect of world building to give my work a sci-fi flavor and particularly mentioned my Talking Dog series, which is one of her favorites. I thought this was a great question and decided it would make an excellent topic for a blog post.

From childhood, I’ve watched sci-fi movies and television. I’ve seen how the writers have handled the language aspect and absorbed that. While I’ve never been a huge sci-fi/fantasy reader, I’ve read enough to see how other writers work this aspect of world building. I think the most important thing is to make sure the reader isn’t jerked out of your story because they’re so busy laughing about your made-up language or are totally confused because they don’t understand what is happening in the story. On the other hand, the writer shouldn’t copy everything they’ve seen or read in other sci-fi books or movies. Originality is good.

With my Talking Dogs series, I went light on the “foreign” language aspect. My stories are about aliens crash landing in New Zealand. Just as an aside, a lot of the time my editor and readers think I’m writing a foreign language anyway!

Hinekiri, the aunt, is a seasoned traveler/explorer. She’s good with languages and doesn’t stand out as a tourist. Janaya, the niece who stowed away to save her aunt, had a crash course with some Earth-speak tapes and she sometimes mixes up things when it comes to language. Here’s an example.

“Back on the ship,” she snapped to her aunt as she pulled her weapon free. “Now.”

“That would be, hands in the air,” her aunt said.

With my Talking Dogs, I focused more on the language difficulties, the same ones that people learning English have. With my stories this made sense because my aliens want to blend rather than stand out.

I gave the race of bad aliens (who are a pretty lilac color) the name of Torgons, the planet where Hinekiri and Janaya come from is called Dalcon, and I had a few other things with made up names. As I said, with this book I erred on the light side because it is set in New Zealand and I wanted my aliens to blend.

Foreign languages and scientific names for plants or animals can be a good source of language for sci-fi works. Authors can also use part of these words because some of them are really long while a few of the syllables work out perfectly as a made up language.

With my free story, Interplanetary Love, I used a completely different technique. I took normal English words and spelled them backward, making a new language all of my own. With Fallen Idol, I made up words, plucking them from the depths of my brain and that worked out okay.

With all my writing, I tend to err on the light side when it comes to a “foreign” language. I’ve read books where I’ve had to read the same paragraph several times to work out what the author or the characters were trying to say. I think this part of world building is a delicate balance because if you have too many strange words you frustrate your readers and if you don’t have enough you might as well write a contemporary. If anything, I’m probably on the too light side, but I can live with that. I write what I prefer to read.

Writers, what do you think? How do you tackle this part of world building when you’re writing a paranormal, sci-fi or fantasy story?

Readers, what do you think? Do writers get it right or do we confuse you? Is there a writer who you think does a really good job?

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According to literary agent, Kristin Nelson, dogs are hot at the moment and editors are searching for both fiction and nonfiction projects relating to dogs after the recent success of Marley & Me. Kristin says The Art of Racing in the Rain is also another success story.

I’d like to say I beat the trend with my Talking Dog series at Ellora’s Cave. If you enjoy dog stories, humor and romance check out Talking Dogs, Aliens and Purple People Eaters, Never Send a Dog to do a Woman’s Job, or Romantic Interlude which all feature Killer, the talking dog. Romancing the Alien is a print combo of the first two Talking Dogs books.

It’s time for a cup of tea, so in the immortal words of Killer – “Do ya have any food?”

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