Another update

I guess the review my book received did create an interest again. It jumped from position number 37 to number 14 at Fictionwise.
If you want to look up my novel 'Book one, The Xandra, Daughter of the Dark, at http://www.midnightshowcase.com/ just click on SciFi in the directory and it will take you there. The Midnight Showcase website has undergone a few changes.
I finished the novel I was working on 'The Stardogs', 120,000 words. It is long. Now begins the hard work of editing and making sure there are no loose ends. Once that is done I'll have to write a story for the digest Midnight Showcase is planning for sometime next year 'Men of Eros'. I'll be one of the five male authors at MS. I don't know yet what I'll write, I'm waiting for some inspiration. Maybe a time travel story. Something seems to be brewing inside my head. Nothing concrete yet. We'll see.

About my review

That address of coffeetime romance is quite long. Here it is again.
I'm splitting it into two parts. This is so frustrating. My blog wouldn't accept the link. Kept telling me 'Tag is not closed: '. I have no idea what it means.
http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/
xandrabookonedaughterofthedark.html

My first review

Well, my first review is in. I received 3 cups from Coffee Time Romance.I am quite happy with it. Maybe it will create in interest in my book again. Sadly I discovered that it has fallen to number 37 position at fictionwise. What a drop from number one.
You can read the review here:
http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/xandrabookonedaughterofthedark.html/



 

Time for an update

Well, it had to happen at some time. You can't be number one forever. New releases from Midnight Showcase and my book 'Daughter of the Dark' slipped to number seven. Sigh.
But it was nice while it lasted. So far, I haven't seen any reviews, except for the reader's ratings from Fictionwise. A little bit of disappointment there. Out of 8 readers one thinks the book is great, three think it is good, three gave it an OK and one thinks it is poor. (There has to be always one! Grrrrowl!)
On other news, I finished my new edit and partial re-write of Book Two 'Mother of Light', which will come out in August. I think I improved it a bit. Most of the time, when you put your freshly written book away and read it at a later time, you find mistakes and awkward sentences. Sometimes a lot. So watch out for Book two. I hope some of you who visit me have bought Book One and read it. I think Book Two and Three turned out better. Check it out at http://www.midnightshowcase.com/

For Love of Arilee

Well, my story 'For Love of Arilee' has been accepted, but won't appear until next year. A long time to wait. That is one of the 'fun-things' of publishing. It teaches patience. But I'm happy.
My book 'Daughter of the Dark' is a runaway bestseller at Fictionwise, so I'm told. Number one seller at Midnight Showcase. I know, it is not the same as the Harry Potter books, where 'bestseller' translates into millions of copies sold, but I'm still excited about it. My first book and it is a bestseller. Wow. Only a year ago I dreamed about being published and here I am, one book published and four more contracted. Plus a few short stories.
Check it all out at http://www.midnightshowcase.com/

My short story

It came to me while taking a shower. The title to my short story. I started singing 'For the love of a girl' by Johnny Horton (an old song, most of you probably don't know it). And I knew right then and there, this is the title to my story, but I did change it. The title is 'For the Love of Arilee'.
I sent it to Midnight Showcase. Hopefully it will be accepted for the digest 'Sweet Proposols'.
Now I can get back to finishing the book I'm working on 'The Stardogs'. I'm already at over 110,ooo words. I should finish it with two more chapters. Then comes the editing. Actually, before I continue with that story, I have to do the edit to Book Two of 'The Xandra', Mother of Light', (again!). That will take me some time. Let the fun begin.
The Sales of 'Daughter of the Dark' are still going strong. No reviews yet.

Sales of my book

Well, the figures are in and I am very proud and excited. My book is Number One Best Seller for Midnight Showcase at Fictionwise. They sold 41 copies the first week. I haven't seen any reviews yet and I'm anxious to read what people think. Anyone reading this and I assume you run and buy a copy of my book 'The Xandra, Book One, Daughter of the Dark'. Details at http://midnightshowcase.com/ and then let me know as a comment or you can even send me an email at hegro@shaw.ca

I just finished a short story for Midnight Showcase, as yet untitled. I'm racking my brains to find a catchy title. I find it harder than writing the whole story. This story doesn't contain any explicit sexual details, but it is a romantic story, set in the future and it takes place on the fifth planet of the Xandra world. It it not part of the Xandra trilogy, but it tells a little bit of what happened on the fifth planet. For those of you who have read my book or will read it, you will see the connection. That is the wonderful thing about writing. Once you've created a world, it can be used again as background to a story. I'm hoping to have this story published in one of the Midnight Showcase digests. Mae Powers put out the challenge to write a romantic story without the xxx-stuff.

Release of my book

Apparently Book one of 'The Xandra' is now live. It can be purchased in ebook format. The printed version will be ready for print shortly. So keep on checking. The book can be purchased at http://www.midnightshowcase.com/ Check it out.
Below the final version of the cover (front and back).








 

My Book cover

Well--here is the real cover for my book 'Daughter of the Dark'. It is amazing. The artist's name is Jinger Heaston. The book will be available in May from Midnight Showcase. Keep checking in, I will post it as soon as it is out.



 

Book One of 'The Xandra, Daughter of the Dark

As already announced my book 'The Xandra' is coming out in May. The following picture is my own rendition of the Book cover. It is not the actual cover. That one will be designed by a real artist. As soon as I have I will publish it here. In the meantime, enjoy this one.




 

A picture from the Dominican Republic

Close your eyes, relax and pretend you're at the beach

Of dogs and tobacco

There is nothing more disgusting than the sight of brown clumps on white snow every ten feet or so when walking down a street on a sunny winter’s day. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a dog-hater. It’s the owners who annoy me.

We live in a quiet rural area. The only difference from living in the city is the size of our properties. We still like to keep our lawns nice. Unfortunately, some people, when they move out of the city, think they can keep large numbers of dogs and let them roam around free.

The other day we took our grandchildren for a sleigh ride around the block, when we were accosted by two large dogs. When I stepped between the sled my grandchildren were sitting on and the two dogs, the dogs growled at me and made threatening moves. I feared for the safety of my grandchildren. Had I had my rifle with me, I would have been tempted to shoot those dogs. Of course, I would have been the criminal then. Discharging a firearm in a residential area and killing two harmless animals would be only a couple of the charges. And let’s not forget the animal right’s activists! They always rear their ugly heads when someone harms an 'innocent' animal. I just saw Brigitte Bardot defending the seals again. Meanwhile we have 6 million of them, competing with us humans for the fish in the ocean.

Speaking of animal right’s activist, I’m a hunter. Yes, that’s right, I’m a killer of innocent animals, mostly deer. I’ve also been known to shoot rabbits, ducks, geese, grouse. And I eat them. I know, it’s a terrible thing. Most people, except the ’Veggies’, love their meat. Americans (and Canadians) love their steak, hamburger, hot dogs, turkey, and chicken in all possible forms. But most people don’t give a second thought to where all this meat comes from. They don’t like to think about the living animals they once were. Maybe the meat grows on trees. Maybe in a garden? Like lettuce? Seymon Kirlian, an amateur inventor and electrician of Krasnodar, Russia, apparently proved that plants are self-aware. Does that mean they are living beings? If that is the case, then all the Vegetarians are committing…dare I say the word…murder… every time they cut off a head of lettuce? Wow!

Some people get upset about everything and they want everyone to live according to what they believe. The animal right’s activists, the human right’s people, the religious fanatics, the health nuts. The list is endless. I’m not a smoker, and I don’t think people should smoke, but I don’t tell anyone they shouldn’t. If they want to kill themselves, that is their business. Now people are suing the tobacco companies, which is totally ludicrous. Nobody forced them to smoke in the first place. No one wants to take responsibility for their actions. It’s much easier to blame others. The government is trying to protect our health (right!!) by creating non-smoking laws, but tobacco products are still sold at high prices, a large portion of it being taxes. The price of cigarettes is different from province to province in Canada. Many times when we crossed the border from Ontario to Manitoba we’ve been stopped by the RCMP and asked if we had cigarettes. Because it is against the law to bring them across the border without paying Manitoba taxes. So much for the protection of our health. It is just a question of money. Our government people have a dilemma, they don’t want to loose the millions of dollars smokers bring to the coffers, but they don’t want to offend the lobbyists. More laws need to be created…

What’s that? Ranting? Me? I’m just sitting hear listening to my canary singing and staring at my screen. OH, I’m not supposed to keep animals cooped up in a cage? Then I’ll justgo and watch my fish in the aquarium…

If by now you shake your head and want to stop reading, wait, I’m actually heading somewhere with this. The non-smoking bylaw isn’t really something that is much on my mind, I could really care less if someone smokes or not, as long as it isn't done in my home or car. I just picked it to make a point. Many years ago, I read a futuristic story where smoking was prohibited. Anyone caught smoking was executed. We’re not that far--yet.

I’m a writer and I look at the world with different eyes. I question what I see and experience. I wonder why people do the things they do. I question religions, laws, customs. What is their origin? Why are certain things forbidden in one country, but legal in another? Which country is right, which one wrong? Why do people who pray constantly, who talk about god and love, hate others who don’t belong to their religion so much that they will strap a bomb around their bodies and blow themselves up, taking many innocent lives? How can they justify that? How can intelligent human beings become so brainwashed to believe that a just god will actually welcome them with open arms after committing murder in his name? Why would anyone be against abortion, calling it murder, but have no problem shooting the doctor who performs abortions? Just wondering.

I’m not judging anyone, but this is the kind of stuff I will use in my stories. Without real life, where would we get our ideas from? I write mainly Science Fiction. I ask: What if? And I will spice up my stories with erotica. After all, sex is part of our daily lives. Even though some people don’t like to talk or read about it. Sex is dirty. It can be, there is plenty of proof, but it doesn’t have to be; it can be beautiful and entertaining. It can be fun to read and to write. I’m having fun and I hope you do too.

So keep visiting me once in awhile and check out my blog. You might even read something you like. Buy my books (The first one will be published in May 2006. Book one of ‘The Xandra, Daughter of the Dark’. More after that.)

Leave a comment.

Another beautiful day

Just came in from a walk in the sun. It's beautiful outside (for Winnipeg!). -3 degrees Celsius. Windchill minus 9. Snow is melting nicely. Hopefully we won't see any more of that white stuff, as nice as it is. Can't wait for spring, so I can get outside and plant my garden. I actually bought a package of Red Onion Sets yesterday. Usually at this time of year I start buying my seeds, but this year I'm a little late. Haven't bought anything yet.

This is the first time I'm publishing some personal stuff on my blog, against my initial intend when I started this blog. I don't really feel comfortable talking about my personal life on the net. After all, millions of people might just see it (Right!). I'm still wondering if anyone actually reads my blog (except for my family and a couple of friends).

Well, anyway, for those of you who are visiting me for the first time, if you are interested in reading some of my writings, you'll have to go to http://www.midnightshowcase.com/ click on EROTIC-AHH DIGESTS, then click on either 'Sweet Revenge' or 'Holiday Voices' and scroll down to read the excerpts. Of course, if you want to read the whole story you will have to buy the digests. Either as Ebook or as the printed version.

My book 'The Xandra' Book One will be published in May 2006.

Check it out. Or at least leave a comment on my blog so I know you've been here.

Winter in Ontario

December 2005, Just another beautiful day to remember 

Beach in Samana, Dominican Republic
Relax and enjoy the view

An excerpt of a rejected story

Last year I sent one of my short stories to Claude Lalumiere in Montreal for his Anthology. It was rejected. I hope he'll be sorry one day, because I think it is a great story. (A rejected writer's lament!) Maybe I'll include in one of my own Anthologies. Well- anyway, here is an excerpt from 'Blood of the Virgin':

A lichen-covered stonewall loomed before us. On top of the wall, two armed sentries crouched, their bows ready. One of my guards called out to them. Moments later rusty hinges creaked in protest as a little used iron gate swung open to let us in, protested again when the gate closed behind us. The courtyard lay in semi-darkness. Silhouetted against the disk of the larger moon the walls and roofs of the castle threw irregular shadows onto the cobbled stones.
We entered the castle through a wide, tall door made out of ironwood. Most castles were ancient, but well-built fortresses against intruders from the ground and the sky. Musty air, laced with the aroma of broiling meat and wood smoke, wafted into my nostrils. Yill are not just bloodsuckers; they do eat meat, as well as vegetable matter. Drinking blood to the Yill is part of their sexual need. They don't do it to survive.
Another fact humans seem to be ignorant of.
The Prince came walking down a wide staircase. He and his followers had landed on the roof, entered the castle through doors in the tall towers. Oil lamps hanging from the ceiling and set into the rough stonewalls bathed his imposing frame with their flickering, weak light. “Don't you know that humans are not welcomed here?” His voice sounded hollow in the large hall.
“And yet you had a human mate once,” I said.
“That was a long time ago.” He stared at me. I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew they were black. “How do you know this?”
I chuckled. “It is not uncommon for a Yill-prince to keep a human female as a mate or slave.”
“She was never a slave!” He spoke sharply.
“Perhaps not.” I looked around for the two females who had been with me, but they were gone. Probably sleeping by now on a perch in one of the common rooms. My armed escort had also disappeared.
The soft whisper of a pair of wings made me look up. A slim figure landed silently in front of me.
A young female, dressed in a thin, gray gown. A virgin.
Folding her wings, she came closer, looked into my eyes. “Who are you?” she asked.
“A prisoner. And who are you?” I countered.
She laughed. “For a prisoner you act much too arrogant.” She trailed a finger along my throat. “I am Princess Arlia.” With a sudden movement she put one hand behind my neck, pulled my face closer to hers. She smelled of Laven-dew; young virgin females of her species loved to bath in it. Her incisors were short, not fully developed. “I will taste your blood tonight,” she whispered into my ear, pressing her tongue into my throat. Her nearness caused a gentle throbbing in my loins. It took all my willpower not to touch her.
“Get away from him!” the Prince thundered. “You are not ready.”
She released me, stepped back. “I am old enough,” she said in a defiant tone.
He looked at me. “I am warning you. Do not let her come near you. She is still untouched, untaught. She will kill you.”
“Is she your daughter?” I asked, wondering if he could see the pulsing of my temples.
“One of many. But she's the most uncontrollable one.”
“You have sons?”
“I had a son, once. But he was Skorrat, not of pure blood.” His wings fluttered in an impatient gesture. Turning, he walked over to a massive wooden bench, sat down. Resting his elbows on a table in front of him, he waved his hand. “Leave me, all of you!” His finger shot out, pointed at me. “Not you. Come and sit with me.”
While the others skulked away I joined him at his table.
“Have some wine,” he said, pouring from a pitcher into one of two bronze cups. When I hesitated he smiled. “Don't worry. It is not blood, and it isn't poison, either.”
The wine soothed my parched throat, but left a strange aftertaste. “About your son; his mother was human. Am I correct?”
“You are. Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
“Did you love her?”
Draining his cup, he slammed it down, angrily. “What is it to you?” He rose and turned away from me. “She was probably the only woman I ever loved, even though she was not of my species.” He spoke softly. I could hardly make out the words. “She promised me a son.”
“She did give you a son,” I said, just as softly.
He whirled. His eyes glowed with sudden fire. “A Skorrat--and a cripple. His wings were deformed, he lacked fangs. I could not bear to look at him, and I didn't mourn when he was captured by slave traders.”
“He was your son!”
“He was an embarrassment. I was glad to be rid of him.”
“What about his mother? What happened to her?”
“She died of a broken heart. Or maybe I sucked her dry in a fit of rage. What does it matter? She was only a human. But now I grow tired of your company.” He let out a sharp whistle. From the dark ceiling a shadowy figure dropped down, landed on soft soles. “Take this human to a place where he can sleep.”
I followed the old female up a narrow staircase, into a dark room. She lit an oil lamp with the torch she carried. “You can sleep over there.” She pointed to a pile of crumpled blankets in one corner. “This used to be his favorite hiding place. Nobody comes up here. You should be safe.”
I looked into her lined face. “You have kind eyes,” I told her.
She smiled, reached out to touch my cheek. “Not all Yill hate humans.”
I watched her climb back down the creaking steps, wings dragging behind her. Then I walked over to one of the walls, drew open the dusty curtain that covered the small window to let in the moonlight, and some fresh air. All three moons were visible now, forming a large triangle in the star speckled sky.
A throbbing inside my belly reminded me of the hunger I needed to still. I took off my pants and shirt, blew out the oil lamp. Naked, I stretched out on top of the blankets, inhaled their musty, damp smell. I lay there and waited.


I still don't know if anyone actually reads my Blog. Of all those people cruising the Internet, someone must stumble across mine, for heaven's sake. If you do, please, leave a comment. Tell me what you think about this excerpt. Somebody? Is there anyone?

A poem for Vanlentine's Day

I’m not really into poetry
because it does nothing for me
I find it to be a pain in the neck
to make words rhyme, but what the heck
Sometimes I am overcome
by the urge to write a little love po-em

Birthdays are a very good reason
to write a poem to the one I love
Easter and the Christmas season
I also use to flaunt my stuff

So please forgive me
‘cause it is time
to write a poem
for my Valentine

To my wife:

Valentine’s Day is for lovers
though not only for the young
and if you think you are too old
let me tell you that you’re wrong

Love knows neither bounds nor age
it doesn’t really care
if you’re a teenage girl or boy
with straight or curly hair

or if you’re bald and maybe old
a blond or a redhead like you
I love you just the way you are
I hope you love me too

So be my Valentine tonight
my Love and Sweetheart, too
there’s only one I want and love
and that, my dear wife, is YOU

An excerpt

Here is an excerpt of the novel I'm working on right now. So far I've written 65,000words, but still more to go. Here is chapter one of 'The Stardogs':

Chapter One

I looked at the red sun in the sky, and then at the two barely visible small moons hanging low above the horizon. They brought a lump to my throat, and I swallowed hard. It felt good to be home again.
The first twenty years of my life I had spent traveling across the surface of Redsky or Shantra, as the natives called this planet. Number five of the twelve circling a Red Giant, 320 light years away from Homeworld.
Leaving the spaceport behind me, I walked toward Old Town, wondering if anyone would be happy to see me.
Ten years was a long time to be away. Time enough for people to forget, for wounds to heal.
Without conscious thought my hand went up to my face, touched the long, thin line running along the left side of my jaw. Some wounds never heal. Outside maybe, but not inside.
A sudden gust of wind swept along the dirt road, swirling up the yellow dust. I walked slowly; there was no need to hurry.
Above, a Yac-bird circled, looking for prey. I heard its sharp, piercing cry, and it brought back long forgotten memories. Squinting against the fiery red sun, I tried to make out the ridge of the Golgat-mountains in the hazy distance, where I had hunted the fierce Gaar. So long ago, and yet--it seemed like only yesterday.
I had walked for nearly an hour when I heard the drumming of hoofs coming from the forest to my left, and I was not surprised to see the small band bursting into the open. They reached me quickly. Their riding animals reared high as they formed a circle around me.
Back at the spaceport I had been warned. Things have changed a lot here, Griffin. There have been clashes between the settlers and the natives, and once you leave the gates you are on your own.
The guard at the gate had shrugged his shoulders when I showed him my badge. “It’s your funeral, Major. I wouldn’t go out there by myself. And certainly not on foot. Besides, it‘s a ten hour walk.”
But they could not hold me. They had no jurisdiction over me.
There were only six of them. Short, stocky males, with long, narrow, arrogant faces. Their horns were painted red; this meant they had all made their first kill.
“Terra-man,” mocked the first one, contemptuously pointing his Ginsa-staff into the sky.
The others laughed with a gurgling, frightening sound.
“Brave Terra-man,” said one.
“Or very stupid Terra-man,” said another.
I felt the hot, fetid breath of one of the animals in my neck, as its rider tried to crowd me; but I didn’t move--not yet.
“We shall eat well tonight,” laughed the first one. “He’s big. Much meat.”
“Maybe tough meat.”
They spoke the harsh dialect of the mountain tribes, but I had no trouble understanding them. Once I had spent a year among one of the tribes, when I was still a boy, and I had learned much of their ways.
They prodded me with the blunt end of their Ginsa-staffs, their yellow eyes watching my reaction, waiting for the moment when I would try to defend myself.
“Are the Sons of the Mountains so weak that they need six Stallions to spill the blood of one Terra-man?” I said mildly, keeping my hands low.
There was surprise in their leathery faces.
“The Hornless-one speaks the tongue.” He pronounced it in a way that meant less-than-a man but more-than-a-woman. A certain respect flickered in their eyes and all but one pulled their steeds back.
“Who are you, Terra-man?” he asked, drawing the three fingers of his left hand across his hairy chest. I had to suppress a smile; this fellow was superstitious. He had probably never met a Terran who spoke his language so fluently, since only a few gifted linguists could master the guttural sounds of some of the dialects.
“Beware of the Night-demon who walks fearlessly in the guise of a Sky-man,” one of them murmured, touching the tips of his horns.
“I am exactly what you see,” I said. “A man from Terra.” I made the sign that meant equal to you.
“Where did you learn to speak our tongue?” he demanded, leveling the barbed end of his staff into my direction.
Realizing it was time for some truth, I touched my lips and my forehead, careful not to make any threatening moves. “Twenty summers ago I lived with the Stag-clan of the Golgat-mountains. I was brother to Threehorn.”
One of the others exhaled sharply. “Threehorn!” he exclaimed. “I know of him. He was killed ten, no eleven summers ago. I was very young still, not a man yet. They say he was killed by a Terra-man. Nobody really knows.”
I winced as memory flooded up, like bile.
He looked at me, his yellow eyes glaring. “Even though you made the truth sign, I say you lie, Hornless-one. No Terra-man would be brother to Threehorn.” Looking defiantly at the others, he said: “I say we kill him--now!” With that he brought down his Ginsa-staff, aiming for my unprotected head.
Anticipating his attack, I had moved toward him, at the same I was reaching for his staff. I knew now these men didn’t belong to any clan; they were renegades, outcasts. Each of them wore a clan-ring in his right ear, but they were of different designs.
Earth science and those two years on the double-gravity planet in the Antares-system served me well. They had made me faster and stronger than an ordinary man. These poor devils had no chance against me.
Without effort I pulled my attacker off his mount, breaking his neck as I did so. Before the others realized what had happened I was in the saddle of the suddenly abandoned riding-animal and swinging the heavy Ginsa-staff. I drove it through the chest of one of them, at the same time cracking the skull of another with my left fist.
Seeing three of their companions dead in a matter of moments, the others hesitated.
One of them cried out: “He is the Night-demon himself, the Dark Hornless-one. We are lost.”
He turned and sped away, the bristles on his back stiff with fright.
The other two looked after him and spat. “Coward!”
I had given them time to think, not wishing to kill all of them, but they left me no choice. Parrying the first one’s thrust, I kicked him in the head with the blunt end of my staff. He fell backward, right into the point of his companion’s barbed weapon; but he was already dead, his face split open by the force of my thrust.
The last one looked at me, his yellow eyes mad with anger and fright. He dropped his Ginsa-staff and reached into his pouch for his blade. “Now I kill you, Sky-demon,” he screamed hoarsely and whipped his hand back for the throw.
I burned his head off with my blaster. His headless body tumbled off his steed and fell to the ground, without spilling a drop of blood, the wound cauterized by the searing heat. Sheathing the gun, I sighed. What I had done was not exactly legal, since the use of atomic weapons was quite restricted. Forbidden on Redsky.
But then--why take chances. There were no witnesses, anyway. Besides, I didn’t have to answer to anybody.
Up in the sky the first vultures were already gathering, eager to get on with the grisly feast. I gave the dead bodies one more glance, then I turned my mount toward Old Town. Without looking back I kicked my heels into the animal’s soft flanks.
“Welcome home,” I said to myself. “Nothing has changed.”

Looking back and ahead - again

I've posted this before and suddenly it was gone. Like I said, I'm still trying to figure out the way this blogs works. I found it when I did a search.

Looking back and ahead.

Well--here we are in the year 2006. It is already February 4th today. I just realized I haven't updated my Blog for quite some time. Looking back over the last year, I am quite happy the way my writing career is developing. I had three stories published and signed contracts for three books. The stories received great reviews, so I know I'm on the right track. We'll see how my books will be received.

I sent another story to Midnight Showcase 'Gin and Tonic'. It will be published in 'Summer Heat II' in August 2006.

I also sent in my 126,000 word novel 'Seeds of Chaos' to Midnight Showcase and received confirmation that it will be accepted. It will be published as two volumes, because of its wordlength.
I don't know when, though. I am happy that it will be printed. 'Seeds of Chaos' is an erotic Science Fiction novel and I had a lot of fun writing it. Jewel Adams from Midnight Showcase was quite excited about it.

Right now I am working on another Science Fiction novel: The Stardogs. So far I've written 55,000 words, but it is far from finished. Possibly another 30,000 words, at least.

I still don't quite know how to work this Blog. I wanted to put in some pictures, but I haven't figured out how. I guess I'll have to spend some time at it. Unfortunately, time is something that is in short supply. There is always something else to do.

Maybe in the future I will publish some of my short stories here and, of course, excerpts from my books.

By the way, is anyone actually reading this? Or am I just writing to satisfy my own ego. Is anyone out there??? Please, leave a comment or just a little note!! If you want to get in touch with me, my email address is: hegro@shaw.ca

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Remember Me Next Christmas in HOLIDAY VOICES

Coming soon from Midnight Showcase

Sometimes, when the moons are high on cold nights and the fog begins rolling across the moor, I can hear them calling.
We don’t usually have snow for Christmas, but I think this year will be different. I think this year will be just like the winter of 95, when I saw them for the first time.
There were five of them, two men and three women. They were not human; no human is that perfect and that beautiful. Little tufts of fur grew from their ear tips and their strange eyes glinted with blue fire, as blue as the water of a glacier lake, and just as cold.
They came walking out of the moor during a snowstorm, like ghosts out of nowhere. Their thin furs, which they had wrapped around their lean bodies, had turned white with the dusting of snow.
I was a young man then, young and arrogant, barely out of my teens. We all were, my brother James, my friends Jeremy and Peter, and Hagar, who was the oldest. Tall and lanky, his long hair the color of the setting sun, he was also the most arrogant.
The girls liked him; something I could never understand, until I saw him naked one day. I’ve never seen anyone with a trunk that huge. No wonder the girls liked him so much.
He was the first one to spot them and the first to step into their path.
Times have changed since then, but in those days not many strangers came through our village. The ones who did were always greeted with suspicion.
“Ho, strangers.” Hagar spoke boldly. “State your business!”
He should have looked closer into their eyes. We all should have, but we only saw their perfect bodies, especially the bodies of the women. Even the furs didn’t hide the shape of their breasts and flaring hips.
“We seek shelter from the storm,” one of them said, his voice soft and silky.
“We’ve never seen the likes of you,” Jeremy said, studying the strangers with open hostility.
The stranger laughed. “Where we come from humans know us well.”
“Where do you come from?”