Living in England has provided me many opportunities to visit places where authors have stayed, lived, dined, walked, and explored. Recently we had the amazing opportunity to stay at Eastwood House, which is situated on the banks of the River Tay and is within walking distance of Dunkeld in Perthshire. This house has hosted many guests including Sir John Everett Millais (painter), Lillie Langtry (actress), David Lloyd George (politician), and Stanley Baldwin (politician). One of its most famous guests has been Beatrix Potter.
Potter enjoyed exploring the local countryside and had a great interest in nature, which is evident in her work. While staying at the house, on September 4th 1893 she wrote a letter to Noel Moore, which later became her first book The Tale of Peter Rabbit, published in 1902. The next day she wrote another letter about a frog called ‘Jeremy Fisher’ to Eric, Noel’s brother.
Now I was at the house to celebrate a friend’s fortieth birthday party (a total of twenty guests) and I didn’t get much writing done. None actually. But it was still inspiring to stay there. Here are some photos.
Today is M. Pax’s book launch for Precipice, the sixth book in her science fiction series, The Backworlds.
In the far future, humanity settles the stars, bioengineering its descendants to survive in a harsh universe. This is the sixth book in the science fiction series, The Backworlds. A space opera adventure.
The Backworlds hang by a Quantum string, a thread about to snap. Annihilation is coming if Craze can’t stop it.
The genocidal alien he had trapped breaks free, destroying a ship belonging to the Backworlds’ oldest enemy, the Fo’wo’s. The murderous alien wants to overtake the galaxy. The Fo’wo’s want another war.
The Backworlds’ best chance to survive is to overcome a century of hate and forge an alliance with the Fo’wo’s. Because of his history with the alien, Craze is recruited to represent his people. Now he’s the most hated man in the galaxy.
The looming war will be a holocaust unless Craze can stop it, knowing salvation comes at a price.
Until he knew for certain whether he dealt with one genocidal alien or two, Lepsi couldn’t think right. His thoughts refused to stand still, stuttering and churning.
The hatch slid fully open. He sprang off the cargo ejector, sailing two kilometers into the ether. He tumbled in the black for precisely twenty-three seconds then engaged his thrusters to journey the remaining twenty kilometers over to a spacecraft-sized mass of debris. The bits clumped together forming a weird metallic planetoid.
He traced along the char marks and the mangled pieces of hull. The answers he needed wouldn’t be found in this trash, yet he was closer to them here than anywhere else, unless he joined up with the horrid alien again. His limbs shuddered and his lungs struggled for breath. He never wanted to see the cloud-like ship again. He couldn’t. He’d crack into a billion unrecoverable pieces. Just like the rubble of the Fo’wo ship around him.
About M. Pax:
Fantasy, science fiction, and the weird beckons to her, and she blames Oregon, a source of endless inspiration. She docents at Pine Mountain Observatory in the summers, and one of her cats has a crush on Mr. Spock. You can find out more by visiting her website: mpaxauthor.com
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