Documents of Tabat: An Instructive and Useful Listing of the Chal Shops of Tabat

Last day of the giveaway! Remember that you can comment five times (one per giveaway post) in order to be entered five times in the jewelry giveaway. Here’s another shot of that jewelry, just because it’s so pretty. 🙂

The book launch has been going well. If you’re one of the people who’ve finished the book already, Amazon reviews are most welcome if you feel so inclined. (Yeah, I know that’s shameless, but I’d really like this book to do well because I love it so much.) Lots of people have signed up for the Goodreads give-away and 165 people have added it on there.

Some of the interviews, reviews, and guest blog posts:

• An interview with Marshall Payne
• A plug from my cousin Tammy Salyer, author of CONTRACT OF DEFIANCE 🙂
• A giveaway on Diabolical Plots
• Interview for Amber Sistla’s Writer Wednesday
• Review on Tor.com by Stephen Raets
• Katherine Sparrow calls me daring, twisted, dark, hilarious, and wise. Your mileage may vary.
• An interview and giveaway on Far Beyond Reality
• Interview with Bryan Thomas Schmidt
• I talk about sex and the book for the Outer Alliance blog

So here’s the last five of our images, left to right.

Image #1 accompanies the story “Angry Rose’s Lament.” It’s another of the images that remind me of a submarine, if you had one carved by Aztecs.
Image #2 was chosen to go with the story, “Long Enough and Just So Long.” I like this image to the point where I’m considering another tattoo, featuring this. I don’t know why it appeals to me so much.
Image #3 was chosen for its swordlike aspect to illustrate the superhero story, “Ms. Liberty Gets A Haircut.”
Image #4 is set with the story “Seeking Nothing.” This one’s half submarine, half brass musical instrument.
Image #5 illustrates the story “Surrogates,” because it often looks to me like a laughing jester’s face, of the sort that perfectly illustrates that story.

Nearly done with this, it’s hovering somewhere between novelette and novella length. Thank you to Mary Robinette Kowal for suggesting the title.

Friendly Village loops and winds, tiny roads scattered among the trailers. Every patch of landscaping is different ““ cacti surrounded one mobile home, followed by a forest of rhododendrons, then dahlias that might have originated in my own garden.

Up along the creek ran a little road, unlined with homes. It led to a trailer of a peculiar pearly hue that might have been mistaken for grime at first. It was a Nordic style, almost, simulated white pine beams, rough wrought ironwork on the walls. Its landscaping was bare: a line of rocks, two tiny fir trees, one slightly larger than the other.

Outside, a massive rock crouched beside the mailbox.

In Greek mythology, such stones were sacred to Aphrodite. But I didn’t think a Greek God lurked within.

I’d taken the time to change into a shirt with a pattern of sunglasses. Not the most subtle enchantment, but that was deceptive. It hung a little oddly due to the lining I inserted, fashioned entirely from a different shirt, one patterned with shells, and it helped that the artist had depicted them as fragile things made of spines and arcs, but thick white clam shells. There was enough protection that shirt that it felt as heavy as a full suit of plate mail, even altered my gate a little, made it more of a shuffle.

A man stood on the front porch, watching me approach. His attitude was expectant, perhaps even a little impatient, as though my visit was overdue. His gray beard hung down to his belly, woolly as a blanket. His eyes were blue and a few golden strands showed among the silver on his scalp to attest to his Nordic heritage.

I stopped a few feet away, looking at him.

“You’ve come of your own accord,” he said. “It would’ve been easier if you just let them bring you.”

I acted unsurprised, and maybe I was. Occam’s razor again. One) move to a new place. Two) be attacked by a powerful magical adversary. More than time connected that chain.

“I’m Forseti,” he said.

I searched through crumbs of mythology. My knowledge might have only the depth of a Wikipedia article, but it was wide. You learn the names of all the gods, once you realize most still exist and are acting out their own plans, few of which are constructed to advance humanity. Or even take it into account, really.

“Justice, right?” I said.

He dropped a slow nod.

“What justice is there in killing me?” I asked.

He said, “Perhaps you should come inside for tea.”