A Woman...A Man...An Android...

Earthman's Bride started out as a short story which ran away with my imagination. I knew what I wanted to say, but the story had been told many times before with many variations: a young woman given to a conqueror as part of a peace agreement...he desires her...she fears him,...eventually they fall in love... So how to make it different, and not just a rehash of every book ever written on that theme? Would changing the setting help? Making it medieval...paranormal...futuristic? And the conqueror? Should he be a warrior...a beast...a supernatural entity, perhaps an older man, inured to the cruelty of war...or a much younger one, still able to find some tenderness in his life?

There are too many science fiction stories of invaders from other planets coming to Earth a la War of the Worlds, but all of them are told from the Earth's point of view. That settled it for me. Do the old switcheroo. Make the Earthmen the conquerors, barging into another a galaxy like barbarians, pillaging and conquering.

My Earthmen aren't barbarians but they’re definitely not nice people. Having depleted their own natural resources, they head to the stars looking for planets having the elements they lack, and they were ruthless in their determination to get what they wanted. Using force, they "accept" these worlds into the Federation, placing them under their "protection" and then haul their natural resources back to Terra. Since most of the planets are less developed than theirs, it's easy to subdue them with superior firepower and take what they want.

Unfortunately, when they got to Tusteya, that changed. The Tusteyans received the Terrans in peace but within 30 minutes of their meeting, peaceful intentions go flying out the window. Though not as technologically advanced, the Tusteyans weren't about to allow themselves to be enslaved by aliens. And so the war began…and lasted for 30 years, until Alcin Spearman, leader of the Elius, asks for a truce, and to show the sincerity of his intentions, offers his 17-year-old daughter Rebeka to the new Governor to cement the peace. Alcin is certain the young Earthman will want Rebeka, and once he meets her, Philip--being young and male--definitely does. What Philip doesn’t know, however, that his bride-to-be has an agenda other than simply being a peace offering. Once Rebeka has gained his trust, she's to kill him, and during the chaos of his death, her father and his men will storm the palace and end the Terran tyranny once and for all.

Not wanting to become a murderer, Rebeka agrees because she has no choice. She goes into the marriage willingly, hoping against hope that some miracle will occur to prevent her from killing her new husband. Nevertheless, everything appears to be going just as her father wishes... She is completely alone except for the presence of Darius, a Terran android re-programmed to protect her. Unknown even to Rebeka, however, Darius has his own agenda. He is capable of human emotion and has fallen in love with the woman whom he has been ordered to protect while she kills his former pupil.

And then, two things happen: Philip discovers Darius’ feelings for his wife, and blackmails his former teacher with the threat of telling Rebeka unless he’s a little less outspoken in her presence, and Rebeka falls in love with Philip as she discovers he isn’t the monster her father and everyone think he is…

Three beings with emotions rapidly reaching the boiling point. Which will overflow first?

Earthman’s Bride placed first in the 2008 Maryland Romance Writer’s “Reveal Your Inner Vixen” contest in the alternate?SF category. Here’s the winning excerpt:

In his office, Rebeka sat at the little table with Master Martin, going over the drawings and diagrams, reeling off names of body parts and how they functioned and what would stimulate them, while Darius lounged on the little window seat across the room, his big body looking too large for that small space. One elbow leaning on the raw wood, he rested his chin in his hand, eyes half closed, appearing totally disinterested in what was going on. Gradually, he allowed the grey lassitude preceding dormancy to slide over him.

It was only when Master Martin took the book from Rebeka, snapped it shut and stood up, calling to him, “Darius, would you come here, please?” that the android roused, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs of near-deactivation from it, and obeyed.

“Certainly, Master.” Three strides brought him to stand between Martin and Rebeka. “How may I help you?”

“Take off your tunic.”

“S-sir?” For an instant, Darius was certain he’d misunderstood. Just stood there, unmoving. Surely he doesn’t mean…

Rebeka, who had been staring at the teacher, turned her attention to him, mouth open. She seemed to be holding her breath.

“You heard me, Darius. Take off your tunic. You must obey, you know.” This was said very softly, but Martin’s quiet tone seemed threatening.

Mouth set in a hard, straight line, Darius did as he was told, untying the sash at his waist and pulling the tunic over his head. Master Martin took it from his hands and dropped it over his chair, too far away for him to reach, then waved a hand in the android’s direction.

“There he is, Rebeka. A naked male. He’s exactly like a human. Look him over well.”

Darius bit his lip and took a deep breath.

Rebeka stared. Directly at his crotch.

To his surprise, she didn’t blush or avert her eyes. Instead, she continued to look at his penis as if it was the most fascinating item she’d ever seen. Under her gaze, he shifted uncomfortably.

Master Martin broke the silence. “Now, Rebeka, you know it all. Show me the erogenous zones.”

She looked at her teacher.

Had to practically force her eyes away from me, Darius thought, resentfully.

Taking a deep breath, she said, like a bored schoolchild reciting a lesson, “First, there’s the ear lobes.” She hesitated, pointing vaguely. “Should I touch him, Master Martin?

No, damn it! You old bastard, you’d better not say what I think you’re going to!

The old man nodded and said the one thing Darius had hoped he wouldn’t hear. “Show me, Rebeka, how you’ll arouse your husband.”

“Master—” Darius began a protest.

“Quiet, Darius! Just stand there. Be obedient and silent.”

So Darius remained where he was, mouth set grimly, as Rebeka reached up and caught his left earlobe between her forefinger and thumb. Her touch was so gentle that for a moment, he barely felt it. Abruptly, she put her other hand behind his neck, pulling his head down. Her body was so close to his he could feel its warmth. He wanted to put his arms around her, hold her closer. It was an effort to make his hands remain at his sides.

Standing on tiptoe, she began to nibble on his earlobe, breath warm and soft against his skin. Darius shivered slightly, then forced himself to be still as he felt her tongue trace itself around the edge of his ear.

If I were to…straighten… he began, recognizing that his thoughts suddenly were becoming erratic…but he didn’t move, continuing to stand, leaning forward with his head trapped in Rebeka’s embrace.

When she released him, allowing him to stand upright again, he relaxed, but then her hand slid down his shoulder to his chest, and her mouth trailed kisses along the same path. One finger encircled his left nipple, its fingernail scoring invisible grooves around and around it as Rebeka pressed her lips against the other, mouthing it gently. Darius took a deep breath that was almost a gasp.

She looked up at him. “Is something wrong, Darius?”

“No,” he lied, hastily. “I was just taking in extra oxygen. I have to do that to renew my pneumatic cells so I can appear to breathe.” He took a couple of extra deep breaths to demonstrate.

“That’s enough oxygen, I think.” Master Martin—the son of a bitch—-smiled slightly.

Rebeka turned her attention back to Darius’s body, moving even closer so her own was pressed against his. Darius closed his eyes. God, she’s so warm, so soft. I’m going to kill Master Martin! As certain as Tusteya’s sun rises each morning, I’m going to tear the old fart limb from limb to pay him back for this!

When Rebeka embraced him, Darius nearly recoiled as her hands slid to the small of his back, encircling his buttocks, fingernails performing that little scratch-and-arouse making the tiny sensors in his outer dermis bristle invisibly to attention. Her fingers floated over the deep separation of his cheeks, hesitated at the rough repair to the tattered skin on his left hip, then circled under them, squeezing lightly.

Darius’ body began to tremble, skin quivering.

Releasing him, she stepped back, brushing one hand across his stomach, circling the little depression that had never been attached to any umbilicus, bending to kiss and gently lap at it, her tongue flicking delicately into the little dimple.

The tremor grew stronger. He was visibly shaking now.

“Darius?” Feeling the sudden shiver, she looked up at him.

He didn’t answer, wouldn’t look at her, eyes riveted on something on the far side of the room. Rebeka stepped away from him. It was all he could do not to heave an audible sigh of relief. She didn’t look at Master Martin, didn’t see the broad smile now framing the teacher’s mouth, but Darius did and silently cursed the old man.

“Go on, Rebeka,” Master Martin ordered.

“That’s all.” She looked from Darius to the teacher, then gestured vaguely. “E-except for…” She nodded at the android’s genitals, still—thankfully—at rest.

“Go on, Rebeka,” Master Martin’s voice was softer now, very gentle, as if he was afraid of frightening her.

No—oh, no! Darius’s eyes met the old man’s. He took a deep breath, preparing to protest, grab his clothes, stalk out.

As if he realized the android’s thoughts, Martin shook his head. “Darius, what’s the first tenet of your programming?”

“I will obey the commands of my human makers to the best of my ability.” The words were spoken with a total absence of inflection. Dammit! He had to do what the teacher said. His will was his own only when it didn’t clash with human wishes, and it would take a great effort to override that order.

“Go on, Rebeka,” Master Martin repeated.

Obediently, she slid her hand under Darius’ testicles. He flinched. Suddenly, she seemed to freeze, just standing there, head down, staring at his penis. His balls were cupped by warm hands, chafed gently. The android’s gasp was so sharp it startled her. His face was expressionless though his jaw muscles tightened, as if he were gritting his teeth.

Rebeka stroked one forefinger along his penis, from base to tip, finger brushing back and forth across the crown. “It’s so soft!” There was wonder in her voice.

“T-the c-covering of t-the glans p-penis has been c-compared to the skin of a two-day-old n-newborn,” Daris spoke up. In spite of his stutter, his voice was tightly controlled, almost constricted, practically biting off the words.

Rebeka continued to caress him. She didn’t see Darius’ hands curl into fists, or how his jaws abruptly clamped or the deep flush sweeping over his face. He was angry and trapped, caught in her hands, being fondled as if his organ was a timid animal. Well, in a few more minutes, that timid animal’s going to turn into a raging beast!

Rebeka pressed her lips against the soft head. His tolerance point snapped.

Ignoring the painful ripple surging through his system at disobeying a human command, he seized her by the shoulders, jerking her upright, gasping aloud with relief as his penis slid from her hands. Darius pulled her up to face him and then his mouth was on hers, tongue sliding inside as her lips opened in surprise. It brushed against her own, laved over and under it, then he was sucking its tip almost desperately before he thrust her away. She staggered and nearly fell as he released her, staring up at him with startled eyes. Slowly, one hand went to her mouth.

“That’s what you’ll get if you do that to Philip Hamilcar—and more.” His voice was harsh, husky with emotion, chest heaving as if he were struggling to breathe. “I think, Mistress Rebeka, your lessons are over.”

The Earthman's Bride will be available from Class Act Books on April 15, 2012.

New Release by Toni V. Sweeney

On November 15, one of my “lost” novels will find its way to publication.

I call these my lost novels because they were exactly that…for all intents and purposes lost, deleted, thrown away, and gone for good.

Almost twenty years ago, in what I can only describe as a fit of madness in which I decided I was about to die, I threw away the only copies of several of my manuscripts and deleted the originals from my computer.  I admit it was somewhat…rash…to put it mildly. Crazy, to be harsh about it.  By the time I came to my senses and realized I was not only not dying but was actually looking forward to being alive, it was too late; not only were the hardcopies gone, but the computer on which they had been written had given up its electronic ghost. 

Believe me, I found myself wishing more than once that I could go back and undo what I’d done but as we all know, that’s impossible. They were gone.  If I went any further with them, I’d have to rewrite those first, precious pages, and as everyone knows, you can rewrite something but you can never recapture exactly the way you originally said it.

Ten years passed, and then…one of those minor miraculous moments happened.  Someone I’d once known, and lost track of, sent me an e-mail.  He was deleting files from his computer and had come upon a folder with my name on it.  In it were copies of some early novels I’d written and sent him to read.  Would I like to have to have them back?

What do you think?

Most of the manuscripts I received were some I had copies of and I’d gone on to polish and edit.  They had actually been published, but tucked in among them were a partial chapter and two very small fragments…of something called Blood Bay.

I never intended to write what I consider a thriller, in fact, but the idea pushed itself into my mind…with the question, How would I have done that story?  The story in question was Cape Fear.  I’d seen the 1962 version, interested in it, not only because parts were filmed in Savannah, but because of the harrowing episodes in which the villain chases the lawyer’s wife.  It gave me chills and I wondered how I would’ve reacted if I’d been in her place.  Then, in 1991, the story was re-filmed, again partly in Savannah, and unlike some remakes, it was just as frightening, perhaps even more so because this time, the teenaged daughter was also one of those threatened.  I kept replaying in my mind the scene where her father asks her about the man she’s seeing and the girl simpers and refuses to answer him, not realizing her new “friend” is the convicted rapist her lawyer father put away fourteen years before and he’s now back for revenge, with her as his target…I was already re-writing the story, looking at it not from the lawyer’s point of view, but from the victim’s.  In my version, he goes after the original victim, still very much alive, but this time, she’s prepared to fight back.

Even a decade later, with absolutely no synopsis and no further idea of the story except that it would involve an island off the coast of Georgia, a vengeful rapist and his victim and the man she loved, I found the story remarkably easy to write; it was the research giving me problems, for the real-life setting had changed quite a bit since my original inception.  I had to find out what color Georgia State Patrol cars were; how far my imaginary island was from the cities of Savannah and Brunswick; if there were any rest areas now in Georgia other than the single one in North Georgia which had existed when I left the state in 1975, what state highway ran through my mythical town of Stella.  What is the actual title of the Savannah Police Department?  What is the main newspaper in that city?  A dozen other things I had to know to give my story the authentic ring it needed. 

Blood Bay is my version of Cape Fear. Set in the Golden Isles off the coast of Georgia, a young woman, agoraphobic after an assault ten years before, is brought out of her shell by a young man determined to show her that love is neither demented nor violent.  Their budding affair is interrupted by the escape from prison of the man who assaulted her and left her for dead, and he’s heading to the island, to finish what he started ten years before. That’s the premise of Blood Bay, told from the viewpoint of Connell Ambers, the victim, Tucker MacKenzie, her would-be lover, and Benjamin Reed, the escaped rapist.  It’s a thriller, like nothing I’d ever written before, and very graphic, and after I finished, I wondered if it was too different for me to submit anywhere.

Finally, after much consideration, I submitted both books to Class Act Books;  Blood Bay will be released November 15.

What’s the moral of this story?  No matter if you’re certain you aren’t going to live another day, don’t ever throw away any manuscript without keeping at least one copy, tucked away somewhere.  The sun may come up tomorrow and you’ll still be here and wanting that story!

And if you aren’t?  Then your heirs will have yet another of your novels to have posthumously published.

click cover to go to Class Act Books 

Connell Ambers was fifteen when she was raped and left for dead by her brother’s best friend.  Ben Reed was found not guilty by reason of insanity, and confined to a psychiatric hospital, but Connell received a worst sentence.  She’s a recluse, taking refuge on Isla Bahia de Sangre—Blood Bay Island-- in Georgia’s Golden Isles.

Tucker McKenzie was simply supposed to stop by on his way to Florida and check on a frat brother’s sister.  Agreeable to doing this favor for Jesse Ambers, Tuck makes two visits to the island before meeting Connell face-to-face but when he does, he finds a contradictory young woman toward whom he feels a startling attraction.  The man who was just passing through stays on, and in spite of Connell’s fears of intimacy, they begin a tentative and somewhat one-sided love affair, as Tuck encourages her into taking the first steps toward again leading a normal life.  

Then Ben Reed escapes, leaving behind a trail of bodies as he makes his way to Bahia de Sangre.  His purpose:  to finish what he started nine years before.  It’ll be a reunion he doesn’t expect.  For this time, Connell’s waiting for him… 

 

…with a gun.

 http://www.tonivsweeney.com/Home.html

Geography and the Plot

In 1988, Hildebrand, the most successful rock star of that era and an actor who had brought to life one of the most famous horror characters ever created, disappears from his beach house, never to be heard of again. In 2009, while on a Carribean cruise, Savannah librarian Melissa Powers discovers herself being stalked by a mysterious cowboy. Agreeing to a midnight rendevouz with the man calling himself Travis Brandt, she discovers his real identity—Hildrebrand, coming out of his self-imposed exile after twenty years of hiding in the sand hills of Nebraska. Before the cruise is over, Melissa and Travis are involved in a frantic love affair ending in a hasty marriage, and the Nebraska cowboy takes the Southern spinster back to his ranch as his wife. In the midst of her happiness, however, Melissa feels as if Travis isn’t telling her the whole truth about why he left Hollywood. What is he hiding and why is he lying?

When I decided to have Hildebrand simply drive away from his Malibu beach house and disappear, I asked myself: To where?

Most people agree that if you want to lose yourself, go to a big city, but Travis is a Midwesterner. So I decided that, in spite of having lived in Hollywood for nearly ten years, and also touring the United States, when he decides to chuck it all, he goes home. Not back to Lincoln, necessarily, but to Nebraska, the Sand Hills, specifically…that fairly isolated north-central section covering a quarter of the state.

Typifying the classic prairie of the Great Plains, the sand hills are located above the Ogallala Aquifer, supplying shallow lakes to the area. Dunes may reach as high as 330 feet, and contain a variety of animal and plant life, ranging from several types of prairie grass to 314 species of fish, deer, wild canine, and birds. Although there are no native trees on the Great Plains, there are 720 mostly native plants.

The sand hills were long considered a desert and most of the land has never been cultivated, until around 1870, when ranchers began to utilize the area for grazing longhorn cattle.

Ambiguously for such a flat countryside, in this area are many buttes eroded by cutting winds, biting snowfalls, and torrential rains into fanciful shapes with even more exotic names: Chimney Rock, Courthouse Rock. Stretching across and rising above the bleak flatness, Chimney Rock rises 300 feet above the surrounding North Platte River Valley, its peak is 4,226 feet above sea level. When pioneers traveled the Oregon Trail, it served to landmark their journey halfway there.

It is this area of geographical isolation to which singer Hildebrand—horror star actor, rock idol, drug addict, and demon worshipper--escapes, to begin his transformation to Travis Brandt, rancher and lover of Melissa Powers, the one women he feels can restore him to complete humanity. And it’s in the stark and primitive beauty of the sandstone buttes, raising their jagged spires to the sky, that he begins his fight to save that humanity when the horror of his younger days resurrects itself to threaten his newly-found happiness.

"IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN A LOVE STORY...AND THEN THE HORROR BEGAN...

Serpent’s Tooth developed from a dream, and it’s the only novel I’ve written which originated that way. Probably not many people today remember Arthur Franz, but he was a very active science fiction star in the 1950, both in the movies and on TV. Well, one night, ‘way back in the ‘80s, I had a dream about Mr. Franz and I have no recollection of it now, except his being in it and the name “Hildebrandt.”

So, a couple of days later, what do I see on TV but the movie Atomic Submarine, staring guess who? And one of the characters was named “Hildebrandt.” I have this rule…if something sticks with me for three days, I know I have to write about it, so I took these two incidents—which occurred within three days of each other—and decided there was a novel in there somewhere with “Hidebrandt” playing an important role, then the story of Faust--the scholar who sells his soul to the devil--intruded, and… Serpent’s Tooth was born.

My hero, Travis Brand, is a Mid-Westerner, a part Pawnee orphan studying at the University of Nebraska. He’s ambitious (he’s putting himself through school on student loans), talented (a drama major getting raves in every role he portrays), a loving husband, a gifted student, but bitter because he has no prospects, and angry since his lack of money is keeping him from realizing his potential and providing his wife with the family she wants. When a famous actress comes to Lincoln to act in a play and he wins the male lead, it’s his ticket to instant stardom. Suddenly this impoverished youngster is the one calling the shots and it goes to his head. He’s got it all but he wants more and he doesn’t care how he gets it. Soon he’s involved with some very deadly people and when he wants out, the only way is to fake his death. He gives up everything, hiding out on a ranch in the Nebraska Sandhills, fearing discovery by the people he left behind, but that doesn’t happen until the day he lets back into his life the one thing he’s missed most of all: Love.

I’m not even certain Travis should be called a “hero.” He might be better termed the “protagonist” of Serpent’s Tooth, although he has many of a hero’s features, he doesn’t’ meet all the criteria. That’s a question worthy of a lengthy debate: What makes a hero? It would’ve been easy to portray him as a thoroughly despicable character, considering the things he does of his own free will, so I chose to detail the reasons why he did them, and the main one is his love for his wife. Can a man who loves be all bad, no matter what he’s done? He wants to give her all the things he couldn’t when they were students, everything she ever wished for and he couldn’t afford. His story is also an object lesson in what happens to someone who’s been without all his life and suddenly finds himself with more money than he’ll ever want. He deliberately loses everything--including that beloved wife--and when he meets Melissa--just as in the story of Faust--it looks for a moment as if the love of a good woman will redeem him. It was easy to like Travis, even easier to sympathize with him but I viewed him with a somewhat jaundiced eye because I--as the Omniscient Author--know what is coming. Love him? No. Like, empathize, agonize over, hope against hope everything will come out all right? Yes.

As Clayton Bye (www.thedeepening.com) says, "...it will show horror fans that slice and dice just doesn’t stand up to understated and/or realistic horror."