Author Update April 2025

Today was a good day in that I passed 100K words in my latest book, Seven Oars. I usually average that much in a finished version, which means I’ll need to write another 20–30K so I can cut back on the fluff during editing. While it still feels like the publication date is a ways away, let me tell you — it’s not that far. Hoping to have it all wrapped up neatly by summertime, as long as I keep being a good girl and stay on pace (which, of course, I am — unless I’m distracted by the noxious thistle weeds ruining my backyard zen).

I’ve already changed the storyline twice, completely scratching the previous versions. Why? It was getting a little too dark. It’s still a grim story, in my opinion, but it had turned downright depressing — and that wasn’t my goal. That’s what I get for dreaming up a romance set on a pirate space station where a group of women is captured and held by a gang of rabid, lawless men. Ahem. That’s the premise. The women aren’t completely alone, but what can one lone defender do against ten pirates? Well, we’ll all find out in the summer. 😉

Seven Oars Ch 2

One week turned into two. The tension inside the cabin had become heavy, and even the chill Gro had grown short-tempered.
   “I wish we could go outside,” Mara lamented, and she spoke for everyone. Being confined to this dilapidated building with barely any facilities, always conscious of having to remain invisible and stay quiet, made their waiting game so much harder.
   Rosamma, although used to living life indoors, struggled with idleness. But more than that, she struggled with the constant presence of people around her—day and night. Strangers who were neither family nor friends. Women like Alyesha who looked right through her. Or women like Mara who shied away from looking at her at all because she was so odd in appearance. She, who had so often decried her loneliness and had looked forward to meeting new friends and building new connections, had found this sojourn with fellow females disagreeable.
   “I will take out the trash,” Fawn volunteered. Alyesha looked up from her mirror. She spent hours on her beauty routine, and not just out of nothing better to do. It was a full-time occupation.
   “No need for you to go. Someone else can take a turn.”
   Fawn almost bowed down to Alyesha’s authority but rallied herself. “Who wants to deal with the trash? But it’s no bother for me.”
   “You take forever to get back. What takes you so long, anyway?”
   “She smokes cigarettes,” Gro informed the room from her bed without breaking her contemplation of the stained ceiling. “And ogles the guards in the spaceship depot’s lookout tower.”
   “I do not!” Fawn’s face filled with color.
   Eze rose to her feet, alarmed. “You can see a lookout tower from here?”
   “Not from here,” Fawn denied hotly. “You have to walk a bit…” She cut herself off abruptly, realizing what she’d revealed, and fell into a sulky silence.
   “Stupid twat,” Alyesha said with feeling.
   Fawn’s chin went up defensively. “Why are you always so rude?”
   “You can’t stay outside!” Mara piped in. “What if someone sees you?”
   “If you can see the lookout tower, the guards can see you,” Anske stated the obvious.
   “It’s wooded as heck. What can they see?” Abruptly, Fawn had had enough. Her round face became pinched and angry. “Yo, bitches, how about y’all back off? You’re not my keepers.”
   Sassa shook her head with stoic vehemence. “You put our trip in danger! Yes, we’re your keepers. We’re all each other’s keepers. If you don’t like it, then you’re out.”
   Fawn sputtered. More angry shouts erupted. Someone tried to shush the argument. Daphne stuck her face into her mother’s armpit and wailed.
   Rosamma became lightheaded. It happened sometimes when she got agitated and her heart rate picked up, requiring a boost of energy to stabilize her system. She always ran low on energy that should flow through her in abundance. Alas, her imperfect Tana-Tana part, the part she shared with Ren instead of owning it whole, refused to do what it was supposed to do. Some space traveler she was.
   The door to their cabin opened silently. The argument went on, and amidst its heated intensity, the other women hadn’t immediately noticed it.
   He stepped inside first, bending to clear the door. Well over six feet tall, maybe even over six and a half, a strapping Rix alien. His otherworldly features were austere and uncompromising. They transfixed Rosamma. She thought he might be handsome. He was too alien for her to appreciate his appearance in the few seconds that stretched impossibly long.
   Two more followed, also tall and fit and armed, dressed in similar dark-blue shimmering bodysuits. They lined up next to the door, silent as statues, and absorbed the cabin’s interior - and the argument that was threatening to descend into a catfight - with their large black eyes that showed no whites. Like built-in opaque glasses - information flowed in, but no emotion got out.
   The shouting inside the cabin slowly quieted down. All the women turned to stare at the newcomers.
   “Who here is waiting for a flight to Priss?” the First One, the leader, asked the room in a broken Universal language.
   No one answered, shocked into complete silence.
   Finally, Rosamma raised her hand. “All of us. We’re all going to Priss.” Cursing her weakness, she pushed against the mattress and rose to her feet.
   Folding her hands in front of her, she bowed her head slightly. “What you ask, may you receive. What you seek, may you find,” she said to the Rix in Universal. It was a formal greeting signifying friendship and goodwill. Her voice came out strained and thin, and she had never hated showing her weakness more than now. In front of all of them, but particularly him.
   She made hand gestures as was custom, performing the greeting ritual. “Here, the light shines upon you and peace awaits you. We’re with you, by your side, always.”
   “Yo, what are you doing?” Fawn whispered loudly. Someone hissed at her to shut up.
   The Rix were not impressed. Or maybe they were. Nothing showed on their stony faces.
   The First One spoke rapidly to his men in his native tongue. Rosamma strained her ears but only understood a word or two. She had made an effort to learn some Rix when Lyle had stayed with them, but it wasn’t much.
   “Get your things. We’re leaving now,” the First One addressed the women in Universal.
   There was a collective gasp. His simple order was easy to understand even by those like Fawn who knew very little Universal, an artificial language made up to facilitate intergalactic relations.
   Rosamma blinked at the First One. “Leaving? Now?”
   His finely traced eyebrows twitched. Yes, he was very handsome. He was also very annoyed. “Do you understand when I speak, female?”
   A realization slammed into her, and she thought she might faint. Something had happened. This was a major change of plans.
   “Who are you?” she half-wailed, half-whispered. “Where’s Lyle? Where’s Ren?”
   The Rix men shifted impatiently on their feet.
   “We came to your planet with Commander Aeshac because of Lyle, the former pirate,” the First One explained in a clipped tone. “My new orders are to take the ship Lyle had prepared and fly you to Priss. The Commander and the rest of the crew will meet us there. Let’s go.”
   A stunned silence hung in the room.
   Then Alyesha darted to her corner and started throwing things into her bag, shoving her beloved cosmetics into a bulging case. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m going.”
   Mara wrung her hands. “We don’t know who they are!”
   “I don’t care who they are. I’m going to Priss.” Alyesha kept packing in determined, efficient motions.
   Gro and Eze followed Alyesha’s lead, haphazardly gathering their belongings.
   Anske, face flushed, ran around the room. “My things! How can I remember everything?”
   Fawn huffed and puffed, pulling a massive suitcase from under her bed.
   Daphne cried. “They are so ugly, mama. Why are they so ugly?”
   “Hush! Oh, be quiet, child.”
   The Rix males stood still, observing the circus that erupted with inscrutable eyes. It was impossible to say where their uniformly black eyes were trained at any given time.
   Fawn twisted her head to look at Rosamma. “How much time do we have? Ask them!”
   Before Rosamma could reply, Alyesha, recovered from shock, took charge. “How much time do we have to pack, gentlemen?” she enunciated in precise, if slow, Universal. Her eyes were assessing them, but her face remained blank, hiding her thoughts.
   “You don’t have any time,” came a cold reply.
   Alyesha got the message. She zipped up her bag and spared no glance at the things still scattered on her bed.
   Moving as if in a dream, Rosamma pulled her small duffel from underneath her cot, wrapped her shawl around her shoulders, and picked up her unfinished book. That summed up her life accurately. Her lips twisted in irony.
   “Snacks!” Mara worried. “Will there be water? I can’t concentrate.”
   “The ship’s been stocked. We went over all of that a dozen times with Lyle and Ren,” Alyesha said irritably.
   They all lined up in front of the door.
   Rosamma glanced back at the messy room. It was nothing, just a temporary place, an old ramshackle cabin with uncomfortable beds. Yet it suddenly felt so safe and beckoning.
   Tears prickled her eyes. Oh, how she wished…
   She pulled the shawl tighter around herself. Ren needed her. And starting a new life was not bad just because it was scary. His words. She’d live by them.
   The amount of luggage accumulated on the floor was surprisingly large.
   The Rix leader raised a broad six-fingered fist and stuck out one finger. “One bag each. Do you understand?”
   Anske squeaked and fell silent. The rest only nodded.
   The leader tilted his head, and the other two Rix moved with astonishing speed. Rosamma felt their hands on her, patting her in every place, impersonal, before moving on to the others.
   “What the fuck!” Gro and Alyesha exclaimed in unison.
   Four stun guns, three knives, and several pepper sprays were confiscated in a matter of seconds. Eze grumbled. Alyesha maintained a stoic silence. Anske looked forlorn.
   Rosamma was floored. She was an invalid who had lived her life out of her room, ensconced in a comfy chair. Weapons? She’d never needed them. She had no idea how to use any.
   But the women had come to this venture prepared to rely on themselves.
   And she’d brought a book with her.
   She gazed at the Rix leader with his wide shoulders and an easy grip on a matte-black sophisticated weapon. What a crushing contrast. What he must think of her, who stood out as a helpless dummy even among her own womenfolk.
   Finally, they went.
   The three Rix operated like a well-oiled machine, herding them like sheep. On their way, they had to cross a densely wooded area where tall grass snagged at their feet and where they had to crawl over fallen trees while hauling their luggage.
   Daphne continued crying and dropping her bag, causing Mara to stop and help her, slowing their procession. There were angry looks directed at the mother-daughter duo from Alyesha and Gro, but no words were exchanged—stealth was key.
   Anske ended up dragging her bag on the ground, so heavy she could barely lift it. Eventually, it got snagged by a gnarly root. No matter how hard she pulled at it, the bag remained lodged.
   “Hey, young men! Some help… would be… appreciated!” Anske strained and pulled at the bag.
   “Shut up,” Alyesha hissed through clenched teeth.
   “They can’t understand you, Anske,” Mara whispered loudly.
   Language barrier or not, one of the Rix was already upon Anske. He loomed over the older, smaller woman and glowered without changing his neutral expression. He reached out, and for one breathless moment, Rosamma was afraid he’d…
   Blood drained from her head.
   He merely unzipped Anske’s bag and unceremoniously dumped half of its contents out before yanking it free from the roots and handing it to her.
   “Oh. Oh, no!” Anske moaned.
   The procession moved on at a faster clip.
   Rosamma trudged at the end of the line, her bag getting heavier with each step. Physically unfit, she was sweating from exertion and pressing her lips together, afraid that her heavy breathing would draw any sort of attention.
   She felt more and more like a fish out of water. Their situation, these alien men—all of it was dangerous, hard, unforgiving. It required strength of both character and body that she never dreamed of possessing.
   I’m always a burden.
   But she chugged along, clutching her bag, terrified that if she fell, they’d simply leave her behind. She couldn’t fail Ren. It was his only chance to leave.
   A section of the spaceship depot’s fence had been conveniently compromised, probably by Lyle or possibly by Ren. They slipped in between two ragged edges and got inside the perimeter.
   There were spaceships of all possible shapes and sizes. The place smelled of fuel and static electricity—a hair-raising combination. Or maybe it was Rosamma’s senses shorting from the realization that her time on Meeus was coming to a close.
   The ship they came up to sat among other space vehicles that appeared to be in disrepair. This whole corner of the spaceship depot looked abandoned. Grass sprouted in the cracks of the concrete pavement.
Suddenly, the hatch lowered without a sound, revealing another tall, strapping Rix in the opening.
   “Get in,” the leader ordered the women.
   Rosamma swallowed, but it didn’t improve the loud ringing in her ears. Almost there. Ren and Paloma would be waiting inside. The thought boosted Rosamma’s spirits, if not her strength.
   Alyesha climbed aboard first, her stylish combat boots hitting the metal plank with a determined clomp. It galvanized the rest. One by one, they surmounted the high ledge of the hatch and disappeared inside under the cold, watchful eyes of their Rix shepherds.
   Rosamma slung her bag onto the ledge, but her shawl slipped to her feet and tripped her. She went down like a rag doll. A rock bit into her hip.
   But she didn’t make a sound, even if tears of humiliation and helplessness burned her eyelids. Her ears continued to ring, because her energy—her Tana-Tana’s lifeline—stubbornly refused to flow like it should, failing her imperfect system.
   Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pair of large boots approach. Large hands reached for her, picked her up, and flipped her body over. Her weight meant nothing to the leader as he hopped onto the ledge with Rosamma in his arms.
   She stiffened, not from fear but from sheer amazement. He was so strong. She was surrounded by pure, unadulterated strength, and it packed a hot punch. So much male physical power next to her body created a different kind of buzz in her head. It was like touching the sun.
   Before Rosamma could savor the sensations, he set her down. Someone brought in her bag. The hatch closed.
   The leader shouted for them to hold on, and the ship shuddered, pulling away from the cracked concrete. The motion threw them around, and the women grabbed any bolted-down part they could reach. There were no seats and no belts to buckle.
   There were no Ren or Paloma.
   “Where’s my brother?” Rosamma’s voice broke as panic rose. “Wait! We can’t leave without Ren. Where is he?”
   Her only answer was the din of the accelerating engines.
   Holding on to the wall, Rosamma made her way to the area where the controls were and where the Rix congregated.
   “Hello!” She didn’t know their names. “Stop!”
   The leader deigned to turn to her. His eyes were opaque. His handsome face was remote and a little cruel, like an ancient, malevolent god.
   “My brother, Ren!” Frantic now, Rosamma repeated her choppy message in Universal and in Rix, the best she could.
   That elicited a reaction. “You speak our language?”
   “Yes. No. A few words,” she switched back to Universal. “My brother…”
   “I heard you,” he cut her off. “He went with Commander Aeshac.”
   Rosamma fell against the wall as if he punched her. “He already left?”
   “Yes.”
   Ren and she couldn’t be separated. They needed each other to complete their energy exchange. Ren wouldn’t go alone!
   The floor seemed to drop beneath Rosamma’s feet. Or maybe it was the ship lurching.
   “Why?”
   “Because it was what Commander Aeshac decided he should do,” the Rix’s tone was cuttingly short. “Now, go back and sit on the floor, human woman. And hold on.”