Thank You and Goodbye :)

Morning dear friends 🙂

4660394-A-heartbroken-shattered-red-Valentine-heart-symbol-of-love-broken-to-pieces--Stock-Vector

I have to warn you, this is one melodramatic post coming your way 🙂 I am shutting down my blog for now. Recently,  I received back my novel draft for Incarnate. The person who proofed it for me, I’m not going to lie, was pretty harsh. Harsh but funny, how does that even work? 🙂 Anyway, because I am an over emotional obsessive wreck my heart pretty much ended up like the picture I have added above. Oh I can tell you, it was the end of the World last night, nothing would ever be the same again etc. 🙂 I am such a drama queen 🙂
BUT… I could see the value of every single point he said. I don’t know if you’ve ever been in that situation but when someone points out the flaws in something you’ve spent years loving and doing, it’s heart-breaking but it can open your eyes to points that you were just too blind to see. I hold no grudge against the person that proof read my work. He has shown me that I need to stop and take a look at the direction my writing is going 🙂
SO… I have decided I am going back to basics. I am going to put Incarnate aside and concentrate on improving my writing as a whole. I may go back to it at a later date. There is no way I can stop completely as I just love writing too much. However, I need to research, practice, do something to improve myself. I can’t have distractions from this so I am shutting my blog and closing my twitter account so that I can work solely on something new and focus on that completely. They will be shut tonight. In the mean time I will be posting a sci-fi short story I recently submitted to an anthology that got rejected (no shock there then lol) to make sure it is here for when I come back… if I come back 🙂
Thank you for all your love and support and go see J. S. Collyer, she rocks 🙂
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Pen Names: A Post From a Confused Soul

Evening lovely readers 🙂

I have to ask; what’s in a pen name? It seems such an archaic term given writers mainly use computers now. I will however say that I do still whip out the old pen and note pad should a creative spark strike.

As you’ll see from the title of this page I tend to go by A K Hinchey. I have however had work published under Andrea Hinchey. So what’s the big deal I hear you cry; they’re both your name. Well yes they are but how do you decide which version to use? Being published under one then the other, will readers link you to all your work? Should you use one for your main (perhaps most loved) genre while using another to try something new? Do you see where my confusion lies? I have yet to have a book published and am unsure which version to use should Hell freeze over and some unsuspecting publishers pick my novel over others 🙂

I will say one of the most creative pen names I’ve seen is that of one of my friends and a fantastic author. Helena Hann-Basquiat is a dynamic and multi-faceted person with creativity literally oozing from every pore. The writing is layered in excellence coupled with a decadent style few can hope to achieve, myself included. BUT the persona of Helena can act to distance the author from themselves. Given I know the reason I can completely see why Helena did this. Doing this also gives you a sense of freedom to create what you will unencumbered by past attempts and circumstance. It must be very liberating. I still cannot decide however if I would want to stick to one name for everything so people can see my diversity…

Ah well, I’m sure I’ll get there one day 😉

Thank you 🙂

Notebook: Hallam

Evening lovely readers 🙂

Today I want to present to you the first of my Notebook Series of posts. This concept is to portray writing in progress and how the mind of a writer can work. If I’m honest it’s also so I don’t forget the story ideas; hey I’m human, I can admit my faults 😉 Please just keep in mind that the writing might start out rough around the edges but it will improve with time.

My first venture for this series is a sci-fi themed piece centering around Commander Samara Balen and the duties she’s called for in service to The Service. What will happen should the Universe come crashing down around you? 🙂

Please enjoy. Thank you 🙂

Hallam

Sam sighed as her eyes popped open, unfocused as the comm sphere bleeped to life. She had only just finished the graveyard shift in engineering but she knew they needed her for something else. They always did. She could’ve sworn her title was Commander, not General Dog’s Body.

Grudgingly, she swung her legs over the edge of her sleeping platform, her bare feet making contact with the cold harsh metal. Others may shy away from it but Sam welcomed the cruel reality of the bitter cold; it reminded her of the reality of a Universe at War.

Shuffling as she went, she managed to reach the comm sphere after only five beeps. Not bad since she was exhausted. Rubbing her eyes, she pressed the glaringly bright speaker button and said, “Commander Balen here. This better be damn good, Meat.”

*Author’s Note* I had to pause here. Is the name a name, nickname or derogatory term for the person on the other end of the comm sphere? Do I want to turn my character into a hard aggressive woman? Or is she just grumpy when she’s tired? Suffice it to say, for now at least, she’s only grumpy 🙂

“Get your head out of your arse Commander and get to the bridge. The Captain has called a meeting.”

“Ah Meat, I love it when you’re rough with me,” she replied sarcastically. “Where’s the respect earned by my position?”

“You want respect? Join the suits in The Guard.” And with that he pressed disconnect. Sam sighed. She knew being part of…

*Author’s Note* Okay, what do you call the opposing faction of military without it sounding too corny? My brain jumps to The Alliance but that could hark to World of Warcraft (yes I am a gamer) or The Rebels, but that is definitely very Star Wars 🙂

…The Service wouldn’t get her high into the upper echelons of life but still she worked hard at her job. She climbed the ranks faster than anyone had at the tender age of twenty-eight. If the Captain would just up and pissing retire she’d be a force to be reckoned with. He wouldn’t retire though, misogynistic bastard. Damn him for only being thirty-five.

She grudgingly got dressed, ignoring the tempting pull of her mattress. How easy it would be to just curl up and ignore the Universe but she had a job to do, one all the more difficult for the very fact that she was a woman in a male dominated World.

*Author’s Note* The Universe my protagonist finds herself in is a misogynistic one. This doesn’t reflect my personal views as I believe women can do anything just as well as men. It does, however, create tension and I do love me some tension 🙂

She tugged on her knee-high synthetic leather boots, adjusted her waist holster on her black pants, pulled on her black leather jacket over her black tank and tied her waist length purple hair in a band. This was one reason she loved The Service. They weren’t so strict on military wear and weapons. She picked up her dual HZ45’s and placed them almost lovingly in their holster. Next she placed her hypersilver blades in her boots and switch blade in the sleeve of her jacket. Lastly was the hypersilver sword strapped to her back. You can never be too careful when it came to space travel in her own modest opinion. Plus it was far more satisfying gutting someone up close and personal.

Upcoming Stuff

Hello lovely readers 🙂

Here’s just a short post to divulge what I have planned for my little blog page. As you’ll know I try to publish flash fiction, book reviews, some poetry and general crazy writer lady babblings on all things literary (not to mention a good old dash of hero worship for my friend J.S.Collyer).

To add to this I have decided to try my old creaky hand at some poetry again, though that is definately a trait which is rusty for me. I have also determined that I will start to write what will be called my Notebook Series of posts. This will mainly be posts of story ideas as they come to me to be developed as time goes on. I want to use it as an example of how the mind of a writer works, to develop aspects of my own writing and if I’m honest, so I don’t forget them 🙂 I will also attempt to blog more often (or as much as my fifteen month old will allow). Keep your eyes peeled for an upcoming blog post on TalkNerdy2Me, a convention I am going to with the always stellar J.S.Collyer.

Thank you 🙂

#FlashFiction – The Rose and the Heart Part Three

Evening lovely readers 🙂

rose

As I work on the second in my Angel of Death series, Bound, I find that sometimes for a break my mind wanders back to the story I began a while ago about my half fae/half lycan character Rose. The Rose and the Heart , a tentative title to say the least, follows Rose as she must face down those who seek to control her and inevitably destroy her. I best write down this burst of creativity before I forget it. Please keep in mind this is a very VERY rough copy written solely as a memory jog. I do however hope you enjoy 🙂 Thank you 🙂

The Rose and the Heart – Part Three

Rose took a deep breath as she stood on the precipice, both physically and emotionally. The wind softly blue her long purple locks back from her scarred face. Everything reminded her that she didn’t belong here regardless of her maniac father closing the portal back to her home. She was of the royal line, surely she had enough power within her to open it again? Even if, by some small chance, she could open it where would she go? Her old life had been destroyed. She sighed.

Glancing down the long imposing cliff she could see the silver sliver of a river mocking her with its luminescent beauty. It shouted at her to by all means try her wings to escape, it would welcome her when she failed. Her wolf had been shockingly quiet since they had run into that alpha. Just another man trying to control her. She felt a strong desire from her wolf to follow him into whatever delights he could promise but she had used her magic to quell her for the first time in her life. She felt guilty but also relieved it had worked. Cloaking herself she ran as fast as she could to escape him and it had seemed to work. Now though her wolf refused to come to her aid. Stubborn bitch! Could she use her wings to escape? They had never worked before but to be fair her mother had not been the best teacher; how could a full lycan teach her to fly when she couldn’t herself?

An almost painful sting resounded on her magical subconscious and she knew her father hunted her still; since meeting him he always seemed to register as a nasty little sting. She laughed; she couldn’t understand his determination for her to rule. Surely he though the same as the rest of the fae; she would dilute the royal line with her ‘mongrel’ heritage. Well that was just fine with her, she didn’t want to rule anyway. She wanted to hide from all of it. She ran her right hand down the now jagged line of skin on her right cheek, a reminder that her father was not someone who cared for others but was someone to be obeyed; someone who saw her type as less than nothing. It seemed to tingle the closer he got. The fae fire he used should have scarred her further but her lycan healing ability quickly kicked in. It brought forth another painfully obvious difference on her part; full fae do not scar even with the full force of fae fire, they merely writhed in agony until they begged for death. At least she had denied her father that.

She shook her head willing these thoughts away. Trust her to get distracted when what she saw as evil advanced upon her. She took a deep and soothing breath to try and calm her nerves. She concentrated on her wings, willing them to move. There was nothing, not even a slight sign of a twitch and Rose became despondent. Some fae she was. She turned back to the dark forest which seemed all the more horrifying to her now. Maybe she could hide somewhere until they tired of searching for her. Would they tire of searching for her? Her logical side doubted it; both her father and the alpha seemed hell bent on finding her. She actually wanted to cry, something she hadn’t done since her mother had died.

Lost in her own thoughts she completely ignored the rustle off to her right and the large, looming wolf that appeared from it. She also missed the following transformation from wolf to very large, very naked man. He smiled when he realised she was lost to conscious thought. He moved closer, as silent as an assassin but with very different intentions in mind. His breath caught a little. There was echoes of her mother in her but her beauty was all her own. She had beautiful flowing purple hair and he was intrigued beyond measure that her wolf was purple, an enigma in itself. He knew she was his; mate, lover, soul-bound; but he had to be cautious. There was something strange about her. He was almost directly to her side when he ran up against something solid and painful. He jumped back with a gasp and watched as she turned to him with almost dreamy eyes.

Rose was aware of him now, that smooth like caramel essence which caressed her magical soul. The alpha stood far too near but it was nothing compared to the evil now oozing from the forest.

“He’s here,” she said to him in a voice full of soul and despondency. She started backing up to the cliff once again, her eyes flashing from the alpha to her rapidly approaching father and back. She didn’t know what was worse and truthfully she just felt lost. One thing was for sure, she would submit to neither, determining she would choose death over subjugation.

“Daughter…” her father began in a determined voice, almost as if he could command her like one of his subjects.

“Rose,” the alpha started, something akin to panic tingeing his deep seductive voice. She smirked as she heard both, deciding to give herself up to the harsh reality of fate.

“I guess we’ll see if I am a true fae after all old man,” she said in a sad voice, reaching the edge of the cliff while fighting back the tears. She didn’t want to die, she wanted to get back to her quiet and peaceful home and carry on with her course. She longed to go back to pretending she was human; strangely she felt at home that way though she had no humanity to speak of.

“Goodbye,” she said to both as she threw herself backwards. The alpha knew nothing of her fathers side and her father thought her wings were lame, heck maybe they were, but she would try them anyway. Their dual anguished yells echoed through the wind that rushed by her. How would she come out of this alive?

Yes, I’m Back!!!!

Evening lovely readers 🙂

image

I have the new house… I have the internets… I have the passion, the excitement, the drive… I mostly have the energy…

BRING ON THE WRITING 😉

After having spent weeks moving into our new house I was looking forward to some much needed writing. Alas, after a fateful night of lost power, faulty equipment and marine aquarium based nightmare I’m afraid this is all I can manage right now sorry. However, forthcoming will be more about my work, some juicy flash fiction and more about the writers I am fortunate enough to call friend 🙂 Take a look.

Thank you 🙂

Fretensis by Dennis Villelmi

Evening lovely readers 🙂

image

Today I get to talk you about the pure indulgent creativeness that is Fretensis by Dennis Villelmi. I have to begin by apologising however; this review should have been released a while ago. Naughty, naughty Andrea. Be that as it may I will say that this book drew me in and caught my attention to the end.

Fretensis is a collection of prose that strikes the reader as dark and almost eccentric in it’s train of narrative. The imagery used is creative and thick like ooey gooey caramel poured seductively over velvet. I particularly liked the author’s use of a curious merging of Roman history, mythology, Christianity and everything in between; and of course the Legio X Fretensis.

For those who ask, the Legio X Fretensis is a legion of warriors that fought and were predominant in the period that saw the dissolution of the Roman Republic. They were, perhaps unsurprisingly, founded by Caesar. As many will know the Roman empire was full of dictators, Gods and debauchery anyway. I enjoy how the author ties all of this together.

There were particular highlights for me, where I felt everything tied together perfectly. For example, this juicy tidbit from the beginning really succeeds in setting the darker tone of the entire piece,

‘ But I am the one in whom reveries perish. I am the cemetery of dreams. Yet, between the east and the west of Caesar & Redeemer I can see the Leaden course of the mission flowing towards me. I can almost hear Jeudayn’s mother weep’

Here the imagery is steeped in a penultimate feeling referencing death and sorrow yet at the same time has a feeling of unjustified decadence, of Lords just out of reach of their peons.

Another section I particularly liked was one that struck very close for me. It’s one that resounds with such empathic emotion. It also signifies a theoretic movement in time from ancient Rome to more modern views. Who wouldn’t enjoy such a celestial comparison?

‘-I see the angel, hiding behind your eyes; I can see heaven, every time you cry.’

I know this could be taken many ways but I choose to see this in a heartfelt almost positive way. It shows that there is perhaps power behind everyone, the ability to make choices, and knowing how to make the right ones will bring happiness to all.

So, buy this book; you need it, you want it. The literary genius of the author, a wonderful friend of mine, shines through on every page from the imagery to language use, heck even to punctuation. Once you start this book you’ll need to finish it. You get drawn into a wonderfully dark World from which there’s no escape, not that you’d ever want to 🙂

Thank you 🙂

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