Sally Malcolm's Blog, page 4

Happy World Book Day!  In honour of the day, I’ve been thinking about some of my favourite reads.  This isn’t a definitive list, but all of these books would be somewhere in my top twenty...
Pride and Prejudice– Jane AustenEmma – Jane Austen Persuasion – Jane Austen
Jane Austen is my go-to author. I’ve read all her books more times than I can count and each time they feel fresh, funny, and sharp as a whip. 
The Lord of the Rings– JRR TolkienThe Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, the Unbeliever – Steven Donaldson
These two books defined and shaped my adolescent reading and cemented me as a book worm.  I was hooked on sweeping fantasy adventures and one day still hope to write one!
Never Let me Go – Kazuo IshiguroThe Outcast – Sadie JonesWolf Hall & Bring Up the Bodies – Hilary MantelA Thousand Splendid Suns – Khaled HosseiniThe Book Thief - Markus Zusak
Just a few of my favourite recent reads – all of these books have kept me on the edge of my seat, trying to read while cooking the dinner.  That kind of thing.  Most of them have broken my heart one way or another.
The Ordeal of Thomas Hutchinson – Bernard Bailyn (non-fiction)
This is the only academic history book that has ever made me cry.  Bailyn was a wonderful writer and a superb historian.  I’d love to see the tragedy of Thomas Hutchinson, the last Royal Governor of Massachusetts, brought to life in some way – if I thought I had the chops for it, I’d give it a go myself.
So, that's me.  What  books do you come back to again and again?

Fancy a piratey treat this Friday? Email 'TREAT' to [email protected] to get my free short story sent straight to your in-box.

Short, sweet & romantic it's set in 19th century New Orleans... Challenging to tell a whole story in 1000 words, but I think I did it!

In honor of the release of 'The Legend of the Gypsy Hawk' I've been celebrating - with cake!  Yum!

Today's an exciting day - and not just because it's Valentine's Day!  My first book for the fabulous Choc Lit UK is out today for Kindle.  
'Come then, and I’ll tell you the tale of the Gypsy Hawk and her wily captain – the infamous Zachary Hazard …’ 
To Amelia Dauphin, freedom is her most prized possession and she will stop at nothing to keep it. Daughter of a Pirate King and the youngest captain in her father’s fleet, she lives on the island of Ile Saint Anne, where pirates roam free and liberty reigns. 

Zachary Hazard, captain of the Gypsy Hawk, hasn’t been seen on Ile Saint Anne for six years but his reputation precedes him. To Zach, liberty is the open water and he has little time for the land-bound pirate island. 

But when he hears that Amelia’s people could be in danger, he has no choice but to return. And what begins then is a desperate fight for freedom and a legend in the making … 

A swashbuckling pirate adventure. Pirates of the Caribbean for adults with a sizzling romance at the heart!
Read the first chapter right here!
Chapter One
Possessed of the devil’s own luck, and a dangerous beauty to match, Captain Zach Hazard might have rivalled the angels themselves, were it not for the pleasure he took in more earthly matters.
Namely women, dice and rum.
Amelia watched him from the rigging of the Sunlight, letting her bare feet swing as she perched on the topsail yard. Hazard had docked at Ile Sainte Anne that morning, ghosting in with the dawn, unheralded and arriving, it seemed, out of nowhere. His ship, his beloved Gypsy Hawk, had not been seen on the island for six years and her appearance had set every tongue wagging. The Hawk sat high in the water, clearly empty of plunder to trade, and Zach stood on the docks in deep conversation with Jean-Pierre, her father’s first mate.
Amelia couldn’t see Zach’s eyes – his face was lost beneath the stark shadow of his hat –but the wind caught at his hair and the silver ring that glinted in his ear. That same morning breeze also carried a snatch of conversation.
‘… has matters of business to attend, but he will see you at noon.’ That was Jean-Pierre, arms folded and stubborn; he’d never liked Zach Hazard.
‘I’m not here for the good of my bloody health! Tell him it’s urgent.’
Amelia smiled: his voice stirred a memory. Last time he’d sailed in their waters she’d been little more than a girl. He’d pulled coins from her ears and made her laugh with his outrageous stories, but that deep, smoke-scarred voice had touched on something new and blossoming. At the time she’d not known it for what it was; now, at one-and-twenty, she understood why his name alone made the women of Ile Sainte Anne giggle.
Not that she would giggle. She was Amelia Dauphin, daughter of James Dauphin and captain of the Sunlight. She was the youngest captain in her father’s fleet and anyone who said she’d not earned it was welcome to test her mettle with cutlass or pistol. She would not giggle over a man.
Down on the dock, Zach Hazard was getting more heated and aboard the Gypsy Hawk his crew were lining the rail, old Brookes peering down from his work in the rigging. She saw no drawn blades, but in the slow morning heat the air began to crackle.
Time, she decided, to intervene.
Slipping off the yard, she scrambled down the mast and landed with a soft thud on the deck. Her first mate lifted a sleepy eyelid from where he’d been dozing by the helm and started to rise, but she waved a pacifying hand. ‘No trouble,’ she said. ‘I’m heading up to my father’s house.’
With that she trotted down the gangplank and onto the rickety quay. Her pistol was tucked into her belt, her powder dry, and the boards were smooth under her bare feet – it was a good morning to be alive. ‘Zach Hazard,’ she called as she drew close. Down at his level the shadow beneath his hat was not so dark and she could see his face more clearly.
Had she not been Amelia Dauphin, youngest captain in the pirate fleet of Ile Sainte Anne, she might have been startled by that face, beautiful despite sin-black eyes and a sardonic mouth. But she was made of sterner stuff and met his frank appraisal with a bow. ‘Amelia Dauphin,’ she said.  Then, as an aside to Jean-Pierre, ‘My father has asked you to attend him; I can handle Captain Hazard.’
The two men exchanged a glance and Amelia found herself blushing without entirely knowing why.
‘As you wish, mademoiselle,’ Jean-Pierre said.  But, under his breath, he grumbled his disbelief.
‘Nonsense, is it?’ she shot back. ‘Casse-toi, Jean Pierre! And it’s Captain Dauphin, to you.’
Jean-Pierre glared and didn’t deign to reply, still muttering into his grizzled beard. She watched his back as he left, just in case. When she eventually returned her attention to Hazard, he was regarding her with undisguised surprise.
She laughed. ‘Do you not remember me, Captain? You used to pull coins from my ears.’
For a moment he said nothing; then surprise changed to humour and something silver flashed in the sunlight. ‘You keep them there still,’ he said, taking a coin as if from behind her ear and spinning it in the air.
She snatched it with a grin and tucked it inside her shirt, watching the way his eyes widened. ‘You’ll need better tricks than that, Captain Hazard, to impress me now.’
‘And what sort of tricks impress you these days, Miss Dauphin?’
‘It’s Captain Dauphin.’ She pushed past him a little closer than necessary and then turned around, watching him as she walked backward along the dock. ‘Would you like to see my ship? She’s called the Sunlight. Or do you think me too much of a child to captain a ship?’
His bold gaze drifted down her body and his mouth curled at one corner. ‘There’s nothing of the child about you now, Amelia. How long’s it been since we last crossed swords? Six years, by my reckoning.’
‘We never crossed swords,’ she said, puzzled.
His smile was liquid gold and not even remotely innocent. ‘We may yet, however. I’ve a mind to think you’re as wily as your old dad, and with those pretty lips a world more perilous to an honest pirate like myself.’
‘Honest!’ she snorted, turning away from his gaze. A girl might lose herself there and Amelia had no desire to be lost, especially not to a man with a string of broken hearts in every port and his own untouched by any softer feeling. She knew Zachary Hazard far too well to succumb to his charms.
He followed her along the dock, his loose-limbed stride reined in to keep pace with her. ‘Much as I’d love to see your ship,’ he said, ‘I’ve urgent business with your father, no matter what Jean-Paul—’
‘Pierre. It’s Jean-Pierre.’
‘No matter his name, Amy!’ He was impatient. She’d never known him impatient before. Zach always carried with him the laconic heat of the Spanish Main, a far-off place she’d never seen with her own eyes but, through him, had come to know as a land of rum-filled nights and easy profit. That he would be impatient now – and come to them with the Hawk empty and lean – spoke of trouble.
‘Do you bring ill-tidings?’ She looked at him askance; saw the narrowing of his eyes and the tightening of his lips.
‘What I bring is for your father’s ears only.’
‘I’m a captain in his fleet. I’m—’
‘It’s between him and me, Amelia. Leave it now.’
Frustrated, she kept her mouth shut and they walked in silence along the dock until they reached the narrow path leading up to her father’s house on the cliffs. No doubt Jean-Pierre had gone ahead to betray her interference, but she knew her father well and doubted she’d be scolded. He loved Zach like a son, an errant son perhaps, but a son nonetheless, and she knew he’d be delighted to see him despite Jean-Pierre’s dark mutterings.
Away from the salt-tang of the docks the air was rich with the scent of vanilla flowers and she breathed deeply. Tall trees shaded them from the climbing sun and she smiled to herself as Zach swept the hat from his head, wiping his brow against the arm of his coat.
‘Too hot for you, Captain?’ Casting him a sideways glance she wondered that he didn’t rid himself of some clothing; his long coat and boots looked out of place in the heat of Sainte Anne. She wore only britches and a shirt, going barefoot even in the forest. Some of the visiting sailors – those unfamiliar with the citizens of the island – thought her wild, but she saw no reason to bind herself in stays and stockings for their convenience. She doubted they’d never seen a girl’s ankle before, and if they hoped for more and were disappointed then so be it. They could take their pleasure among the lightskirts at the docks and leave her well alone. She wanted nothing of men, only the wind in her hair and the Sunlight beneath her feet.
‘Why your father insists on camping out in this stifling bloody heat is beyond me,’ Zach muttered, swatting at something on his neck. He peeled away his hand and grimaced, wiping it on his coat. ‘Calls himself a bloody pirate, yet he never puts to sea.’
‘My father is far more than a pirate!’ Bridling at the insult, she turned on him. ‘Look around you, Captain Hazard, and see for yourself. My father is a leader, a leader of free men and women – the only people in the world who are truly liberated.’
Zach stopped, regarding her from behind a fall of black hair. His face glistened with sweat, eyes laughing. ‘And what do you know of freedom, girl? You who’s known nothing but luxury and indulgence your whole life.’
‘If this isn’t freedom, then I don’t know what is!’
He swept the hair back from his face and his lips curled into a smile, sharp as a blade. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I imagine you don’t.’ He kept on walking, leaving her behind in a stew of outrage.
After a moment, she gathered herself enough to stomp after him. ‘What does that mean?’
‘It means,’ he said, not stopping or turning around, ‘that the world’s a lot bloody bigger, and a lot bloody nastier, than you – or your dear old dad – know anything about.’
‘My father has—’
‘Your father—’ He turned abruptly, so fast she almost ran into him, and she was forced to brace her hand against his chest to keep her balance. His skin was warm through the linen of his shirt, his heartbeat strong beneath her fingers, and she felt a flash of a different kind of heat. Hurriedly she withdrew her hand, stepping back.
Luckily, Zach didn’t seem to notice her awkwardness. ‘Your father has hidden away in this little utopian fantasy for a score of years, Amelia. He plays at being king of the pirates and ignores the rest of the world.’
‘But the rest of the world does not concern us, Zach.’ She smiled, confused by the heat in his voice. ‘Their troubles are not ours. We are safe here.’
He shook his head, a flash of frustration quickly hidden behind a twist of a smile. ‘We’ll just see about that, won’t we? I’d hate to have come so bloody far for nothing.’


Captain James Dauphin, the self-proclaimed Pirate King, kept his court in a fortress atop the cliff of Ile Sainte Anne. To the eyes of Zach Hazard it was a preposterous ostentation, but his own opinions, he knew, were coloured by the choices of his father, who had called this place home for twenty years. Zach wanted nothing to do with pirate kings or their castles. All he wanted – all he needed – was a ship beneath his feet and the wind in his sails. That was his idea of freedom, and it had nothing to do with the lofty ideals his father guarded closer than his own life. Closer than the life of his son.
Had he been truly free, of course, he wouldn’t be here now in the sweating heat of Africa’s west coast. Had he been truly free he’d have washed his hands of the wretched place years ago. But his father was his only kin and, though he knew he’d regret coming back, he’d not been able to ignore the gathering clouds of war. A warning had to be given. Whether it would be heeded was another matter entirely.
Eventually they reached the fortress, its grey stone walls rising above the trees. It might have sat well atop some stark, English hill but amid the lushness of Ile Sainte Anne it looked absurd. To Zach, the fortress had always seemed as big a folly as the ideals it had been built to defend. Nevertheless, he sighed in relief as Amelia led him into the blessed cool of the stone hallway, a sea breeze floating in through its narrow windows and stirring the air. He breathed deep, relishing the sharp sea-tang on his tongue.
Amelia smiled, looking at him sideways, as they stood together for a moment and gazed out past heavy stone towards the bright azure of sea and sky. ‘You’ve been ashore no more than an hour,’ she said. ‘Do you miss the sea already, Captain?’
The breeze riffled her shirt, pushing soft linen against the slender contours of her body. Zach looked quickly away, licking his lips and tasting salt. ‘Like I’d miss the air if it weren’t here to breathe.’
She closed her eyes, lifting her arms as if she were a bird. ‘Do you ever sit astride the bowsprit and pretend that you’re flying?’
He laughed, couldn’t help himself. ‘Not a fitting place for a captain,’ he said, ‘but, aye, when I was a lad I did. Or in the crow’s nest.’
Amelia smiled, eyes still shut, the breeze stirring her hair. ‘There’s no feeling better, is there?’
‘Almost none,’ he agreed, thinking of her taut body beneath the man’s shirt and britches she wore. He wondered if she knew the effect all those tantalising glimpses of flesh had on a man who’d been too long at sea. He suspected that she knew all too well.
Amelia opened her eyes and smiled. ‘Come, my father will be impatient to see you.’
She walked on and he followed. When last they’d met she’d been but a girl, close to flowering but still a child. Now, however … Dark curls hung loose down her back, swaying like temptation in time with her hips. Her skin was sun-darkened to olive, unfashionable no doubt in the courts of true kings, but to his eyes her tanned limbs looked as smooth and touchable as silk.
But it was the fire in her eyes that sparked his interest. It spoke of adventure, of a wild spirit. He could imagine her astride the bowsprit, arms held wide and her hair running out behind her in the wind. She was no blushing maid and he stirred at the very thought of her firm, unbound body beneath his hands, and those adventurer’s eyes fixed on him, bright as the play of sunshine over water. He’d have taken her to bed with great delight had she not been the daughter of James Dauphin.
Amelia looked back over her shoulder and arched a curious eyebrow.
‘Admiring the view,’ he said with a smile.
Her expression grew impish. ‘Captain Hazard, there are at least twenty women I know who spit and curse whenever they hear your name mentioned. Do not imagine I want to be one of them. I won’t succumb to your seductions.’
‘Seductions?’ He gestured to the windows in feigned innocence. ‘I meant the sea view.’
‘Oh.’ She turned back around with a toss of her hair. ‘Well … Good.’
He smiled again, devilish despite the news he bore. ‘Don’t blame you, of course. Most women find me irresistible.’
‘Do they?’ She spun around, eyes laughing. ‘Then it’s fortunate for me, Captain, that I’m not “most women”.’
‘And it’s fortunate for me, Miss Dauphin, that I’ve no interest in wild little barefoot girls.’
She looked as if she would retort, but after a silent moment all she said was, ‘It’s Captain Dauphin to you, sir,’ before spinning around and stalking deeper into the fortress.
Blowing out a long breath, he followed. The crossing from Florida had been over long – he’d not realised the level of his own frustration. That was all. That was enough to explain this sudden flare of desire. This girl held no special power over him, any girl would do and there were plenty who’d be eager to oblige. More than eager.
He would deliver his warning and be gone, steering well clear of Amelia Dauphin and her adventurer’s eyes.


James Dauphin’s court was just as Zach remembered it: high windows cut into thick stone walls admitting shafts of sunlight that striped the flagstone floor. First built to protect the colony from other pirate raiders, the fortress now served to defend Dauphin’s precious Articles of Agreement. Set down in the time of his father’s father, the Articles asserted the right of every man, whether highborn or baseborn, to live and die free beneath the open skies. Driven from England during the turmoil of war, they had found a home among the freemen of the sea and eventually, under James Dauphin, they had become the law that guaranteed equality of wealth and power to the free people of Ile Sainte Anne.
Though the fortress had defended the Articles from those less-enlightened raiders who coveted the island’s wealth, Zach feared it would offer little defence against a new and greater threat: the firepower of a well-armed East-Indiaman and her naval escort. For the world was turning its eyes towards Ile Sainte Anne and the freedoms she proclaimed, a fact Zach had to make plain to James Dauphin – and to his own stubborn father.
Pausing in the hall’s great arched doorway, he let Amelia precede him into Dauphin’s so-called court, giving his eyes time to adjust to the gloom. Dominated by a huge fireplace that was lit despite the oppressive heat, the court was full of shadowy corners and the rattle of dice as men played at hazard and talked in low, easy voices.
He followed Amelia with his eyes as she walked barefoot across the stone, hips and hair swaying, to the fireplace at the far end of the room, where sat the captain’s chair. Pilfered, no doubt, from some ancient galleon, the carved wooden chair gleamed in the firelight and upon it sat the man he had come to see. Behind him, a shadow at Dauphin’s shoulder, stood the man he had most certainly not come to see – his own father, Zechariah Overton.
‘Look,’ Amelia said. ‘Captain Hazard has come!’
Dauphin rose, hearty despite his years. ‘Zach, my boy! What are you doing lurking in the doorway? Come in, come in!’
Aware of eyes peering out of the court’s dark corners, Zach doffed his hat and strode into the room. ‘Captain Dauphin,’ he said, sweeping a bow. Then, with a scant nod to his father, he added, ‘Captain Overton.’
His father watched him with bright eyes but said nothing, merely returned Zach’s nod.
There was an awkward moment before Amelia said, ‘Zach has come with tidings, Father. Ill news, by all accounts.’
‘No, no,’ Dauphin said. ‘We’ll have no ill news yet.’ He held out his arms and embraced Zach, thumping him hard on the back. ‘We need rum! And food. A feast! Tonight we’ll feast in your honour. How long has it been, Zach, since last we saw you?’
Zach stole a glance at Amelia. ‘Long enough.’ She lifted her chin, bold beneath his scrutiny, and somehow it made him smile.
If Dauphin caught the look, he said nothing, just thumped Zach on the back again. ‘Too long,’ he said, turning to Overton. ‘Is it not so, Zechariah? Too long since we’ve seen the boy.’
His father made no move from behind the captain’s chair, only growled, ‘Makes a man wonder what manner of news would cause him to sail so far.’
‘Later,’ Dauphin said, smiling again. ‘Time enough for news later. First we—’
‘James?’ Zach clasped his shoulder, interrupting. ‘Loath as I am to say as much, my father is right: the news I bring is dark, it’s no reason to feast.’
‘But your return is,’ Dauphin said warmly. ‘It’s been six years, Zach, without a word.’
Guilt flared briefly but he had no reply to give. He had turned his back on Ile Sainte Anne and all for which it stood, and his father could not forgive him for it. The day he’d sailed, six years ago, Overton had disowned him and Zach had sworn never to return. Yet here he was.
Dauphin’s hand tightened on his arm. ‘Come then, give us your news. Perhaps it is best to hear it in the morning, while the sun is bright and the air full of birdsong. Tonight, when it is dark, we shall feast and chase away the gloom, shall we not?’
‘Aye, if you wish.’
‘I do.’ He looked over at his daughter. ‘Amelia, order a goat slaughtered and roasted, we shall—’
‘Am I not to hear Captain Hazard’s news?’ she said. ‘Have Jean-Pierre arrange the feast; I should hear what Zach has come to say.’
‘Amelia—’
‘Father.’ The challenge in her voice rang clear as a bell, defiance in every line of her body as she stood braced for a fight.
There followed a silent contest of wills, and after a moment Zach was amused to see Dauphin’s eyes narrow in defeat. ‘Very well,’ he sighed, ‘we shall meet in my quarters.’ He smiled at Zach, feigned exasperation clearly mingling with pride. ‘She is her mother’s daughter.’
‘Aye,’ Zach agreed, ‘and her father’s.’
Dauphin laughed. ‘So she is.’ He slapped Zach on the arm. ‘It does my heart good to see you, Zach. It does it good indeed.’
Over Dauphin’s shoulder Zach saw his father watching them. There was no warmth in his expression, never had been, only a keen intelligence that sliced like a knife. Zach suspected his father knew exactly what he had come to say, and hated him for it as much as he ever had. Truth, when it differed from his own view of the world, was never something Zechariah Overton wanted to hear, especially not from his son’s lips. Dauphin’s sentimental attachment to Ile Sainte Anne might be hard to overcome, but Zach feared that his father’s stubborn adherence to the colony’s ideals could prove impossible to shift.
If he was right, then his father might doom them all in the end.
***
Enjoying it so far?  Get it now at Amazon.co.uk or Amazon.com (£2.99/$3.99)

It’s been a while since I posted, but I've been busy!  Not that I’m complaining, but it sometimes feels like there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything. 
I’m working on an SG-1 novella right now (Permafrost) that I’m hoping to release in time for Christmas, and also – excitingly – I’ve made contact with my editor at Choc Lit.  She’ll be editing my first historical romance novel (pirates!), which I believe will be published either late this year or in early 2015.  It doesn’t have a title yet – (how does ‘The Winter Pirate’ sound?  Good?  Cheesy?) – but I’m expecting edits by the end of the month.  VERY EXCITED!  I may be odd, but I genuinely love the editing process.  I can’t wait to get started.
Meanwhile, I’ve just finished checking the galley proofs of my SG-1 short story, Off Balance, which is in our STARGATE: Far Horizonsanthology, out on 24th October.  So I thought it was about time I posted a little preview of Off Balance. It’s a short story, so this is a short preview – it’s more of a teaser, really – just to get you wondering what the heck’s going on...
STARGATE SG-1: Off Balance - Sally Malcolm
Coming out of the bend, he opened the throttle and smiled as the bike leapt forward, eating up the empty road.   Adrenaline kicked, the needle nosed over ninety, and the thrill of all that raw power brought him alive for a precious few seconds. 
Cliffs soared high on his right, sunset casting the rock in shades of burnt orange, turning the landscape alien, otherworldly.  And he should know.
He felt a spike of loss – still keen after nine years – and accelerated harder, just to blast the feeling away.  He liked speed, he’d always liked speed.  His wife had once told him, with a note of fond exasperation, that he was born to be a flyboy.  The memory still made him smile, though it was long ago now, part of his lost life. 
Up ahead, he could see a line of mountains – the Collegiate Peaks – and the glitter of Buena Vista’s lights scattered through the evening shadows.  He’d almost topped ninety-five, and was just throttling back, when he heard the siren wail behind him.
Crap.
He slowed, glanced in the mirror and saw the flashing lights of the patrol car pulling him over.  Obeying orders was in his blood and, besides, he knew the drill; this wasn’t the first time he’d encountered Colorado’s finest.  Pulling onto the shoulder, he killed the engine and tugged off his helmet.  He’d never been good at feigning contrition, but he did his best as the officer climbed out of his car.  Recent experience had taught him that cops didn’t like kids with smart mouths.
Tall, lanky, maybe early thirties, the police officer walked with a youthful swagger – the kind of bravado born of a uniform, a rank, and a gun at your side.  “You know why I stopped you, son?” the cop said.
“Yes sir.”  He hated being called ‘son’ by kids almost half his age.
“I’m gonna need to see your driver’s license.”
He handed it over and the officer studied it for a moment, then peered at him over the tops of his sunglasses.  “Jonathan O’Neill.”
“Yes sir.”
“You go by Jack?”
“Used to,” he said.  “Not anymore.”
The officer didn’t comment, eyes hidden again behind his dark glasses. “Is this your bike, son?”
“Yes sir.”
“BMW R1200GS?  That’s a lotta machine for a kid your age.”
He gave a little shrug.  “I’m older than I look.”
“Says here you’re twenty-four.  And that’s an expensive bike.”
“It was a gift,” he said, “from my uncle.  Uncle Samuel.”
And, all things considered, that wasn’t exactly a lie. He had to do something with the guilt money that dutifully rolled in each month from the Air Force. 
As usually happened, the police officer walked away a few steps and spoke into his radio, probably calling through a check to make sure the bike wasn’t stolen and that ‘Jonathan O’Neill’ wasn’t wanted for grand theft auto across all fifty states.  Everything came back clean, of course, and in the end he only had to endure a lecture on responsibility from a guy who had no idea what responsibility meant.
It was dusk by the time he was allowed to go, so he turned around and headed back toward Salida.  He was a little surprised that the police car followed him all the way into town, only moving on after he’d pulled into the parking lot outside Bosco’s Tavern.  He guessed the cop didn’t have much else to do, and resisted the urge to wave him goodbye.  Low-profile was the watchword of his so-called life these days, and sassing the police wouldn’t help keep him out of trouble.
***
Since I also edited Far Horizons, I can tell you that the stories are all fantastic.  Despite the 10k word limit, we’ve got ten complex, thoughtful stories  that range from funny, to heart-warming, to (Peter Evans, I’m looking at you!) chilling.  
This is Fandemonium’s first anthology of short stories and I’m really excited to see what our readers make of it, because I’d love to do another collection next year.  It’s been so much fun reading and compiling the stories and I owe huge thanks to the wonderful Stargate authors who’ve contributed.
And now I’d better get back to work on Permafrost.  Only anther 7000 words to go!

Autumn is one of my favourite times of year.  It makes me think of new school shoes and new projects.  And now that the children are back at school, it’s time for me to get down to some serious writing (yay!).

I’ve got a lot on my To-Do list right now, and I need to prioritise, but here are some of the things I’m most excited about getting into over the next few months.

First, the second book in the STARGATE SG-1 Apocalypse trilogy.  Laura and I are thrilled by the response we’ve had to Hostile Ground and we’re starting to get the sequel into shape already.  There are some big surprises ahead for our team in book two and I can’t wait to get into the story.  Really, book one was just the set up.
Second, I’m talking to MGM about novelizing the video game STARGATE SG-1: Unleashed, for which I wrote the first three scripts.  Sadly, the third episode never got made, but if all goes well I’ll be able to include it in a novel that will tell the whole Unleashedstory.  There’s so much I would have loved to include in the scripts that wasn't possible because of the constraints of the game, so I’m really looking forward to revisiting the story.  Watch this space for more information once everything is official.
Third, but by no means least, I’m waiting for edits from my new publishers – Choc Lit – on my first original historical romance.  I self-published it a couple years back, as ‘Beyond the Far Horizon’ (that title will change), and it got some nice reviews on Amazon.  But I’m sure that, with Choc Lit’s brand behind it, it will reach a far wider audience.  I’m eagerly awaiting the editor’s notes at the moment.  I know some authors hate it, but I love edits and editing – after the hard slog of writing, it feels like a treat to sit down and tweak your words until you’re happy.  I don’t have a publication schedule yet, but I’m hoping the book will be out early in the new year, if not before.
Oh, and I still haven't mentioned the short story collection coming out this autumn from Stargate Novels.  I’ve got a story in that, called Off-balance, which I loved writing and which, I hope, will serve as a kind of prequel to another Stargate novel that I hope to have time to write somewhere in, oh, 2016?  All I can say about my story at this point is, think Clone!Jack about ten years after Fragile Balance.  Now, just visualise that for a moment...  Yeah.  That’s what I thought! :D
Plus, there may be a little Stargate Christmas treat on the way – subject to how fast I can write and how fast MGM can approve it!  More on that when it’s in the bag.
In the meantime, I’ve got some writing to do!

The journey that started back before Christmas 2013, when I said ‘Hey, Laura, I’ve got this cool idea for a new Stargate book!’ ends today with the publication of Stargate SG-1: HostileGround.  It’s exciting to see our novel out there, but a little nerve wracking too because it has a lot to live up to.  And that got me thinking about what a tremendous privilege - and daunting responsibility - it is to write in the wonderful world of Stargate.
Meeting so many other Stargate fans at Shore Leave 36 earlier this month really brought home to me how important it is that we get it right.  Ten seasons and two movies worth of canon have created a set of characters beloved by their smart and loyal fans, characters with complex lives and histories who live in a rich and detailed world, all of which must play into the story for it to feel like Stargate.  Getting to pick up and play with those characters and that world is an enormous privilege, and Laura and I have felt the weight of that responsibility in every single word we’ve written.Of course, our interpretation of the characters can’t possibly mirror the interpretation of every Stargate fan out there.  But we’ve done our utmost to be true to the show, true to the creative geniuses behind Stargate SG-1 – both in front of and behind the camera – and, most of all, true to the amazing fans that are keeping the fandom alive.
And, with the news that MGM will be rebooting Stargate in a trilogy of movies that will take the franchise in a new direction, our role in keeping SG-1 and Atlantis alive has become even more significant.
I really hope you enjoy Stargate SG-1: Hostile Ground.  I’d love to hear what you think of it – good or bad, all constructive feedback is valuable!  And as Laura and I settle down to write book two we’ll be doing so in the knowledge that SG-1 lives on in the hearts of fans and in the words we’re lucky enough to write.  That’s a responsibility we take very seriously.  
But, hey, this is sci-fi.  Who knows what the future will hold for our favourite show?  It isn’t the longest running sci-fi show in history for nothing. #StargateForever!
  

Had great fun making this little video about our experiences at Shore Leave. I'd love to know what you think if it. 

And, if you were at Shore Leave, can you spot yourself in any of the clips? ;)

What a fantastic time we had at Shore Leave 36 this weekend!  I’d heard that Shore Leave was a friendly convention, and that was certainly my experience.  Huge thanks to everyone involved with organizing the event, you did a wonderful job. 
After weeks of preparation in the UK, Tom and I headed to Heathrow feeling somewhat nervous about whether everything would come together; we had books to collect from the printer, writers to meet, panels to attend, and a party to host.

Books!We arrived at the Hunt Valley Hotel a little jet-lagged on Friday morning, ready to set up our stall.  The place was already buzzing, even at 8.30 am, and thanks to some helpful volunteers we soon found out where we needed to go and got our twenty-one boxes of books hauled into the hotel.
Next on the to-do list was to track down the first of our writers – the fabulous Diana Dru Botsford, author of Stargate SG-1: Four Dragons and Stargate SG-1: The Drift.  Although we’d corresponded by email for years, this was the first time we’d met in person, and it was really exciting to meet at last. 
Diana and I man the stallWith Diana’s help, we set up the stall in the morning and then had a quick but delicious lunch of Maryland Crabcakes (yum!) before getting back to the stall in time for the official opening at 2.00pm. 
And what a great afternoon it was, with so many Stargate fans coming to say hello, checking out our books, and talking Stargate with us.   
Mac's back!Meeting other Stargate fans was definitely the highlight of the event for me, and we had a great time that night going out for dinner with a whole bunch of lovely GateWorlders.  We even had a genuine Stargate fan for a waiter!
After dinner, it was back to the hotel for the Meet the Pros event.  We’d been a bit concerned that our Stargate Atlantis Legacy authors – Jo Graham, Amy Griswold, and Melissa Scott – hadn’t arrived that afternoon, but there’d been lots of talk about terrible traffic and, lo and behold, when we got back to the hotel Jo, Amy and Melissa had made it and were already set up at the Meet the Pros event.  
Me, Melissa Scott, Amy Griswold, Jo Graham, Diana Dru BotsfordAfter working on seven Stargate Atlantis Legacy books with them, it was wonderful to meet the team in person.  What a fantastic group of writers!  We had a great time talking to readers and signing books until midnight.
Next day, we were up and back at the hotel by 8.30.  Our first panel, Ten Years of Fandemonium, was scheduled for ten o’clock, but on the way there the wonderful Marian Trupiano asked me if I’d like to have my photo taken with RDA...  Well.  I could hardly say no, right? ;)
Fangirl alert!I’d like to say I was cool, calm and collected.  I’d like to say that I introduced myself to RDA like a normal person and engaged in a little witty banter.  But, in fact, I think all I managed to say was ‘Hello’.  It’s all a bit of a blur, actually.  I’m not even certain I said ‘thank you’ before I ran away.  Sigh.  #starstruck #dork.  
Nevertheless, I did manage to smile in the photo, and notice that RDA really does have lovely warm eyes in person.  He also gives nice hugs.  So.  Next time I will do better and, you know, maybe actually speak.  (There is a reason I’m a writer, you see, and not an actor/public speaker!)
Anyhow, all of that meant I was fashionably/rudely late for the Fandemonium panel.  Luckily Tom, Diana, Jo and Melissa were doing an excellent job without me and I still got there in time to meet lots of Stargate Novels fans and to chat about what we’ve been doing for the past ten years, and what we have coming up.
Diana, me, Melissa & Jo on the Fandemonium panelAfter that it was back to the table to chat and sell books to more of our readers, some of whom – gasp! – hadn’t heard of us before.  Lunch was a Subway sandwich at the table and then I did a couple more panels with some of our writers: Writing Stargate and From Fanfic to Pro.   All good fun.
That just left a half hour or so to set up for the Fandemonium party we were hosting to celebrate both the release of our latest Stargate Atlantis Legacy book, Unascended, and ten years of Fandemonium Books.  We snacked on fruit loops, blue jello and birthday cake – naturally.
Cake!It was wonderful to see so many people there, including past and future Stargate novelists Aaron Rosenberg, David Niall Wilson, Patricia Macomber, and Keith DeCandido.  Thank you all for coming along, it was great to see you. 





Jo Graham read an extract from the fantastic Unascended (in her beautiful North Carolina accent) and we chatted, laughed, and signed a few books, after which we staggered back to the hotel to sleep.
Happy 10th Birthday, Fandeomonium Books!Sunday was a little quieter, with everyone winding down.  Diana Botsford and I did a panel about the Stargate Reboot, which made for an interesting discussion.  
To reboot, or not to reboot?Lots of speculation and theories flying around, but, of course, none of us knows exactly what to expect from the new Devlin/Emmerich movies.  However, it was pretty clear that the Stargate fans we met were perplexed by the decision to make a movie trilogy that ignores seventeen years of television canon.  I guess we’ll have to watch this space...  But, whatever happens, Stargate SG-1 and Stargate Atlantis will live on in our books!
By then it was time for me to head over to RDA’s panel, which was as charming and amusing as you’d expect.  Needless to say, I didn’t ask a question, however someone else asked about Stargate SG-1: Unleashed – the video game I wrote a couple of years ago – and I felt obliged to jump up and try to answer his question.   From a couple of things RDA said, I’m pretty sure he knew exactly what the questioner was talking about, although he pretended not to have a clue.  He does that a lot, right? ;)
In the Diner of AscensionAt five o’clock we were packing up our stall, but we weren’t finished for the day.  We still had time to visit the ‘Diner of Ascension’.  Yep, a full scale ‘50s diner within the hotel made the perfect location for a little video shoot we did with our writers.  Look out for video interviews coming soon, including Robert Picardo, Jo Graham, Amy Griswold, and Melissa Scott (the SGA Legacy team), Diana Dru Botsford, Aaron Rosenberg, as well as me and Tom with a brief con report.  I’ll post the links here once they’re ready.
And...relaxAfter that it was late and we were all starving, so we headed out for another wonderful meal with Diana, Marian and other new friends to round off an exceptional weekend.
Thanks so much to everyone who took the time to come and see us, it was truly inspiring to meet and talk to so many smart, enthusiastic, and warm-hearted Stargate fans.   I’m already looking forward to Shore Leave 37!

I'm thrilled to say I'll have a few copies of STARGATE SG-1: Hostile Ground with me at Shore Leave 36 this weekend, a couple weeks ahead of the book's release on August 14th .  So if you're at Shore Leave, come along and see us at the Fandemonium Books table. :)  

In the meantime, you can read a short extract from chapter one right here...

Stargate SG-1: Hostile Ground - Sally Malcolm & Laura Harper
“Teal’c, how far?” The colonel’s words were clipped, each one bitten off like a curse as he knelt next to Daniel in the mud.  Sam couldn't see what he was doing, didn't dare take her eyes off the rain-sodden tree line, but she could smell the antiseptic and heard Daniel hiss in a sharp breath. “We are now less than a kilometer from the Stargate,” Teal’c said.  He crouched next to her, staff weapon raised and his arm brushing against hers, making the most of the scant cover they shared – a fallen tree, rotting in the incessant rain.  It wouldn't do much against a staff blast but it was better than nothing.  She glanced up at the heavy sky, the clouds hiding a multitude of dangers.  If those gliders came back…Breathing hard, breathing through pain, Daniel said, “I’m okay.  I can make it.”“Damn right you can.”  The colonel’s growl made it an order as he ripped open another field dressing.  Sam heard Daniel’s shout of pain as the colonel pressed the bandage onto the wound.  She didn't know how badly he was injured, but it had to be serious for the colonel to risk stopping their breakneck flight to the Stargate. Movement – a fleeting shadow back in the tree line.  She wiped rain from her face and eyes, squinting through the curtain of water that slanted across the open ground between SG-1 and the edge of the forest.  Yes, there it was again, a glint of gold amid the trees.  “Sir,” she said, finger itchy on the trigger, “you might want to hurry that up.”“What do you think I’m doing, Carter?”She ignored his sharp tone.  “Teal’c, do you see them?  Two-o’clock.”“I do.”  He shifted his position, taking aim.“Sir?” she risked a glance over her shoulder.  Daniel was ashen, his jacket torn and dark with blood where the staff blast had hit, just above the hip and below his tac vest.  She glimpsed a white compression bandage through the torn fabric.  He grimaced as he moved, trying to stand. The colonel put a restraining hand on his shoulder and looked over at Sam.  She knew that look, the flat uncompromising expression that shut everything down.  It meant they were in trouble.  “Daniel and I are gonna head for the gate,” he said, starting to pack away the med-kit with quick, efficient movements.  “You and Teal’c hold them here as long as you can, then come after us.”  He stuffed his gear back into his vest and tugged the bill of his cap lower.  “Don’t leave it too long, Major.”She understood.  If they were too slow getting back to the gate, there was a real danger they’d be outflanked.  “Yes sir.  Good luck.”His only reply was a curt nod before he turned to Daniel.  “Ready?”“Sure,” Daniel said, teeth gritted.  “How hard can it be?”“Attaboy,” the colonel said as he helped Daniel to his feet.  “We might have to run.”Daniel nodded, turning from ashen to milky, but determined as ever.  “Let’s go.”Sam looked away, back to the enemy hiding in the trees, but not before she’d seen the bloom of scarlet on Daniel’s dressing.  She swallowed a hard knot of anxiety.  It would be difficult enough to make it to the gate carrying a wound like that, let alone with a platoon of Jaffa on their heels.“The enemy is moving,” Teal’c murmured as several Jaffa emerged from the trees, keeping low as they scanned the scrubby clearing.  Sam ducked behind their cover, not wanting to give away their position.  “Go now, O’Neill,” Teal’c said softly.  “We will cover your retreat and hold this position as long as possible.”“Counting on it,” the colonel said. With Daniel’s arm looped over his shoulder, he headed out into the sparse woodland that ran all the way back to the Stargate.  Sam winced at their slow, awkward pace.  At that rate, they’d never reach the gate before the Jaffa. A squall of rain blew into her face and she had to turn away, squeezing her eyes shut.  When she looked back, Daniel and the colonel were gone, the rain at least helping to hide them from the advancing Jaffa, even if it did make the muddy ground slick and treacherous under foot.   Wiping her face on her sleeve, she squirmed around and shivered as a trickle of rain slid down her neck and under her collar.  “Daniel’s moving pretty slow,” she whispered, taking a bead on one of the Jaffa and switching her weapon to single shot.  “Do you think they’ll make it in time?”  Even through the rain, she knew she’d hit her target.  But not yet, let them come out a little further from the cover of the trees. “It is possible,” Teal’c said, “that one of us will need to precede them to the Stargate and hold it against the Jaffa.”
“Yeah,” Sam said, a beat of fear kicking in her chest, “that’s what I figured.”
STARGATE SG-1: Hostile Ground - available for eBook on August 14th and in paperback on  September 1st 2014.