His Robot Wife – Chapter 3 Excerpt

His Robot WifePatience’s anger seemingly dissolved just as Mike was getting into bed. By that time he had decided that he was looking forward to robot make-up sex. It turned out that it was just as fantastic as sex always was with his robot wife, but not any more fantastic. He fell asleep pondering the possibility that he had missed his only chance at angry robot sex. He woke up the next morning to find her lying next to him, lightly snoring.

“Oh, wake up.”

“Good morning,” she said, jumping to her feet. “What would you like for breakfast, a vegetable omelet?”

“Wait a second. Don’t we need to talk? We’ve just had our first fight.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Now that I think about it, that has to be some kind of record— five years before a married couple has a fight.”

“I didn’t come programmed to be a wife,” said Patience. “I’m learning as I go along.”

“That’s only natural. It… wait a second. Are you saying that you programmed yourself to get angry?”

“Of course,” she replied. “If I never got angry then I wouldn’t be able to fight with you.”

“Why would you want to fight with me?”

“We’re married, Mike. Married people fight.”

“They do?”

“That’s what all the literature says.”

“And how did you know how long to stay angry?” he asked, climbing out of bed.

“One mustn’t go to bed angry, Mike. I’m not sure why.”

His Robot Wife – Chapter 2 Excerpt

His Robot WifeHaving no real idea where he was heading, Mike drove down the familiar streets of Springdale. He passed dozens of fast food restaurants and though he wasn’t hungry, thought about stopping for a drink. They all looked incredibly busy though, and he didn’t want to have to sit in a crowd. Then he noticed a new coffee shop in the Springdale shopping center. Pulling into the parking lot he marveled that there were so few cars, but then noticed that Starbucks about a hundred yards away was having some kind of promotion that involved a large inflatable mermaid on the roof. He parked and crossed the blisteringly hot parking lot.

TexTee in hand, Mike entered through the front door of Mansfield Perk. The inside was lavishly decorated in faux Regency English style with white table linens and doilies. Behind the counter was a young woman, her hair in a bun, wearing an Empire line dress dotted with little roses, and a young man with curly hair and long sideburns wearing a burgundy waistcoat and knotted white cravat.

“Good day to you, sir,” said the young woman with a curtsey. “It was so lovely you could come visiting on this day.”

“Thanks,” replied Mike, looking up at the menu written in chalk on a black slate board. “Elizabeth Bennet’s Black? Mr. Darcy’s Mochachino? What have you got that’s cool? Iced Tea?”

“Yes, sir. We have the world’s best iced teas. What kind of tea do you prefer?”

“Um, I’m not really sure.”

“Could I try something?” she asked.

Mike waited for several seconds to hear what she wanted to try, but when she didn’t elaborate, he said. “Okay.”

“You’ll like it. I promise.” Then she hurried around the corner to the back room to “try something.”

“Mindless drones,” said the young man behind the counter.

Mike followed his gaze to the Starbucks.

“What do mermaids have to do with coffee anyway?”

“It’s the book,” offered Mike. “Moby Dick. That’s where the name Starbuck comes from.”

“Does Starbuck drink a lot of coffee in Moby Dick?”

“No, I don’t think so—just the usual amount one would drink as a sailor I guess.”

“Well then, it’s a stupid name for a coffee shop.”

Mike thought about mentioning that there were probably at least as many references to coffee in Herman Melville’s work as there were in all of Jane Austen’s, but he held his tongue. Just then the girl returned with a large glass filled with an orange beverage that could in no way have been iced tea, with twenty or so foot long sprigs of mint sticking from the top.  Taking the glass, he found a spot in the corner and sat down, leaned his texTee up against a sugar bowl and fished the mint out of his drink.

So far as he could tell, the drink was about ninety percent orange juice. If there was any tea at all in it, it was vastly overpowered by citrus. It was cool though. And sweet. And minty.

“News,” he said and the small screen in front of him came to life, filled mostly with text, but a window in the top right corner was occupied by a broadcast correspondent. “No. No. Text only. Headlines.”

He silently scanned through the headlines. “President Mendoza tours Antarctic factories.” “India and Iran will host the 2038 and 2039 world cups.” “Vice President McPhee questions the sincerity of Democrats regarding cutting the budget.” “Sixty four people killed in Bosnian hotel fire.” “Court rules sex with a child-like robot does not violate pedophilia laws.” “Great white sightings may be a sign that sharks are not extinct.” “Daffodil touts benefits of BioSoft 1.9.3.”

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 7 Excerpt

Tesla's Stepdaughters“So, Piffy told me your name is John,” she said, while they were waiting for their food. “May I call you John?”

“Of course. What else did she tell you?”

“Oh, everything. Women tell each other everything. We talk all the time, the four of us even more so.”

“Really? I was not aware of that.” He rubbed his chin. “I really don’t know about this. I mean about today. You seem very nice and all. I had this connection with Piffy and I was looking forward to finding out where it led. I wasn’t planning to sex my way through the entire tour company.”

“Of course you weren’t. And maybe we won’t even like each other. But maybe we will and maybe you’ll like Penny and Steffie too. We’re all really close, closer than we were back when we were starting out. Maybe we needed a few years apart to mature. I know Penny’s already planning on moving back to Thatch Cay, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Steffie brought her boy to live with her there too at least part of the year.”

“That’s great, but it really doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“Sure it does. Since we’re all so close, it would be much easier to have the four of us as wives rather than trying to make it work with strangers.”

“Wives? I don’t want wives. I’m not sure I want even one wife.”

“You told Steffie that she could be a poster child for mothering a boy. Well, for better or worse, multi-marriage is going to be the type of marriage that most women have for the foreseeable future.”

“Polygamy. You think most women will approve of that?”

“With one man on Earth for every two hundred fifty women? I would imagine so.”

“Well that’s fine for women everywhere, but I don’t know that it’s for me.”

They stopped talking while the waitress set their food on the table, then continued between bites.

“You seem like you’re all ready to get married and aren’t too picky about to whom.”

“I’m thirty-one next month,” said Ruth. “So I can’t afford to wait too long unless I want a vat baby, and none of us can afford to be too picky. But you are a very pretty man. And I remember how happy my parents were.”

After breakfast, Andrews ordered a

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 5 Excerpt

Tesla's Stepdaughters“Agent Andrews…” two of the women started at once, and then looked at each other.

“If you’re not doing anything for dinner…” one of them continued.

“I’m sorry ladies, but my partner has a meeting,” said Wright. “I however, would be happy to escort any or all of you to dinner.”

“I have a meeting?” Andrews leaned over and asked.

“In the lobby.”

The lobby of the Grace Coolidge international building, though Spartan, was large. It took a minute for Andrews to find his appointment waiting by feet of the statue of Justice. He almost didn’t recognize Ep!phanee. She was dressed in faded jeans and a Nehi Blue Cream Soda tee shirt. Her hair was tucked up under a black military cap.

“Is somebody here with you?” he asked.

“Nope. I ditched the cops back at the hotel. Buy me a hotdog.”

“You shouldn’t be running around town without an escort.”

“Well I have one now. Besides, I just want a hotdog. There’s a hotdog cart just down on the corner. I saw it on the cab ride over here.”

She took him by the arm and led him to the glass enclosed front of the building, holding the door open for him. The hotdog vendor was stationed just where she had described, a chubby little woman with a striped shirt, a large stain covering most of the front.

“Two dogs,” Ep!phanee ordered, then turned to Andrews. “What do you want on yours?”

“I don’t know; whatever’s customary.”

“Haven’t you ever had a hotdog before?”

He shook his head. “German food’s not very popular in the enclaves.”

“Hotdogs are as American as apple pie. All right. Bacon, beans, avocado, catsup, and mayonnaise. Do you want jalapenos?”

“Yes please.”

“So you don’t have street food in the enclaves?”

“Sure. Tacos– usually fish tacos, but sometimes grilled shrimp.”

The vendor handed Piffy the hotdogs, already loaded with beans and avocado. Stepping to the end of the cart, she scooped on the jalapenos and then squirted on squiggly lines of red catsup and white mayonnaise. Handing one of the dogs to Andrews, she watched as he took a tentative bite. She then opened her mouth wide and shoved in about a third of hers.

“Good huh?” she asked, her mouth full.

He nodded and then took another bite. Ep!phanee began strolling down the sidewalk and even though she was moving slowly Andrews had to take a few quick steps to keep up. He was still eating his hotdog as they walked, being careful not to spill the condiments on his jacket. She finished first and dropped the little paper hotdog caddie in a trashcan beside the street.

“I should get you back to the hotel.”

“I’m staying in this hotel now.”

Andrews looked skyward to find that they were in front of the Palmer House. When he looked back down, Ep!phanee was already going through the revolving door. He stuffed the last bit of hotdog into his mouth and dropped the paper waste in a can beside the door, following her. The lobby was huge, with a tiled vaulted ceiling that looked like it belonged in a cathedral. Andrews felt self-conscious even walking on the rugs.

“Why are you staying here?”

“We have two more days in Chicago. I’ll go crazy if I’m cooped up with the girls the whole time.”

“You have two entire suites at the American. And it’s under complete police protection.”

“I’ve got my own suite here.” She twirled around a few times but kept on course for the elevator. “It’s the same one Ulysses S. Grant stayed in. He used to be on money, you know.”

She skipped into the elevator and he followed. An attendant, a small woman in a tight red uniform, was waiting inside.

“Twenty-fifth floor,” said Ep!phanee.

The attendant nodded, and then turned the lever sending the car gliding swiftly upwards.

“Ulysses S. Grant died in 1885,” said Andrews. “There weren’t any twenty-five story buildings in Chicago then.”

“I think I feel his presence though.”

“Uh-huh.”

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 3 Excerpt

Tesla's StepdaughtersAll four of the ladybugs were pleased to get out of New York early. The stress of being locked up in their hotel under guard and the threat against their lives hung over them like a cloud. Having the chance to spend two full days in Chicago before the concert, instead of only one was just as welcome. Rather than chartering another dirigible, the band was given the use of an official government airship.

“I didn’t know a Science Police agent could summon a dirigible at her whim,” commented Ep!phanee to Agent Andrews.

“We can’t, but the Science Council can. There are quite a few Ladybugs fans among them, I’m sure, and I doubt that they want any of you to hitchhike to Chicago.”

Every school girl knew that the Science Council ran the world. They had since the great Science War, which began in 1956. At that time the last remaining totalitarian rulers had tried to expand across Europe and Asia. A coalition of nations picked themselves up from the depths of the Great Depression and fought back. When the war was won, a new world government had been created. Science Council members were chosen for their knowledge and wisdom and acted for the good of humanity.

Once the airship S.V. Rosalie Morton had left LaGuardia, the two agents continued their investigation. Agent Wright spoke to each of the crewmembers and support staff of the band and Andrews interviewed the two remaining musicians. The first was Penny Dreadful. They met in Andrew’s cabin and sat at the small desk beside a large window as the clouds passed by outside. She was a large woman though not fat. If she had been a building, she would have been called structurally sound. And a skyscraper. She was about five foot eleven. She weighed around one hundred fifty pounds, a good thirty pounds heavier than she was on the old album covers, on which she had seemed extraordinarily skinny. The white corset, not quite reaching down to her waist left plenty of cleavage, and she wore long white gloves decorated with tiny pink bows. Her white layered net tutu skirt left fourteen inches of bare, white thighs above her knees, which were covered by white lace stockings. She wore white combat boots. Her huge mane of red hair was still styled in the dreadlocks she had worn on stage, and she had two huge hoop earrings and a smaller hoop in the middle of her lower lip.

“Thanks for seeing me,” he said.

“You’re kidding, right? Before yesterday I’d never seen a man in real life before. This is really a treat for me… you know, besides somebody trying to kill me and all.”

“So you think you are the target?”

She shrugged. “Steffie’s probably right. A lot of people were pissed off when Carpetmuncher hit the air. That’s the name of the song, um… no offense.”

“I think it’s a great song,” he said.

“You’ve heard it?”

“I bought the album the day it came out.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I’m a huge Ladybugs fan, and that includes your solo albums. I remember watching you on the Dorothy Kilgallen Show, and I had to present my PhD thesis the next day. So you see; it’s at even bigger treat for me to be assigned here with you.” He watched her for a moment, and then asked. “I’ve been north for two years now, but I still don’t really understand the anti-homosexual attitude. There are plenty of women running around dressed as men, my partner for instance, with her little fake mustache. It all seems pretty open.”

“Not really. We’re still very parochial. Even though men have been gone from most of society for years, there is the tradition around the world of women not going out unescorted. So women like Agent Wright and Alexa Rothman, faux-men, are tolerated and even encouraged. With no men to escort women, someone just had to take their place. Sex in some ways is really just an extension of that, but nobody talks about it. Women pretend that faux-men are men and for the most part, treat them that way. Women who openly have sexual relationships with other women, or at least with other women who look like women, are ostracized.”

“That’s the other thing that surprises me,” said Andrews. “How women look. Without many men around, I expected to see relatively few women putting on makeup, but you all do… except those pretending to be men.”

“I imagine that most men and women were surprised to find out how little women dressed up for men and how much they dressed up for each other. It’s all about outdoing each other. That includes painting our faces, and wearing jewelry.”

“Yes, I knew women pierced their ears, but I wasn’t expecting everything else.”

“Maybe sometime I’ll show you all my jewelry.”

This seemed as though it was meant to be suggestive, but Andrews couldn’t find anything particularly arousing in looking through a jewelry box.

“Besides those who are upset over homosexual content in the music, can you think of anyone else who might have something against you?”

She stared back, smiled, and then rolled up the bottom of the white corset to reveal her smooth featureless stomach.

“You mean because I have no belly button—because I’m a vat baby?”

“That’s one possibility.”

“That’s hardly my fault. They should blame Anton Dilger, not me… Are you all right?”

Andrews had turned white and his eyes widened.

“Are you all right? Do you need the doctor?”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “No, I’m all right. It’s just that… in the enclaves… we don’t ever say that name. Not ever. It’s worse than any profanity or blasphemy. It’s just not tolerated.”

Penny nodded, tugging on the ring through her lower lip.

Sixty years before, during what was still known as the Great War, German-American scientist Anton Casimir Dilger had come up with a plan to keep America from joining the allies. Not content to poison American cattle with Anthrax, he had created a strain of an existing disease, some said influenza, though no one had ever identified the original. With it he had infected several cities along the east coast. Though initially killing almost sixty million men, women, and children, the disease mutated over time to affect only the males of the species. There had been more than 850 million men on earth before he began his sabotage. By 1930, there were less than 200 million, and by 1950 there were less than 10 million. Governments had sent their remaining men to enclaves in the far southern reaches of the globe where the disease didn’t seem as virulent, and there most of them remained. In the last years of his life, the great inventor Nikola Tesla, in an attempt to save the species, had designed and built the baby vats, where girls were grown from their mothers’ cells. The first vat babies had been born just after Tesla’s death in 1943. Penny was born in 1945.

Tesla’s Stepdaughters – Chapter 1 Excerpt

Tesla's StepdaughtersRain beat against the wide windows of the promenade deck as the massive form of the S.S. Lady of Angels descended through the clouds. The dirigible, one of the largest in the air, had made the trip from Los Angeles to New York in just over twenty-six hours, almost two full hours ahead of schedule. In a few minutes, the mooring team would have it fastened to the ground at LaGuardia, and its passengers would be debarking. The great golden craft was one of the latest generation of airships. Massive, as if someone had turned the Empire State Building on its side and launched it through the air; fast, propelled by six huge steam powered propellers; but unlike the other two dozen gigantic vessels at the airport, the Lady of Angels had only a few passengers—the four members of the rock band the Ladybugs, their managers, staff, and crew.

“Is it going to be raining at Shea Stadium?” asked Ruth De Molay, her island accent a blend of American and British dialect.

“Yes,” answered Alexa Rothman, “but don’t worry; you’ll have a cover over you.”

“I assume the electrical will be covered too,” she said, but to this there was no answer.

“We’re on the radio-vid again,” said Steffie Sin, peering at the nineteen-inch monochrome monitor on the wall. A female reporter spoke into a microphone.

“It’s less than two hours before what some have dubbed ‘the concert of the century’ tonight at Shea Stadium, where performing live for the first time in ten years, the greatest rock combo of all time will begin the American leg of a historic world tour.” The image on the screen switched from the attractive female reporter to images of thousands taking their places in the stadium. “The Ladybugs burst onto the world stage in 1963, the head of the female invasion with their cover of Buddy Holly’s Peggy Sue. This was followed by a string of hits, most written by the band’s four members. At one point in 1965 the group held sixteen spots concurrently on Billboard’s top one hundred singles chart. Releasing two to three albums a year and maintaining a grueling tour schedule kept the Ladybugs at the top, but then in 1967, weary of life on the road they moved to their studios in the Virgin Islands, where they released such cutting edge studio albums as Blessed Nobody, Platinum Dream, and the self-titled double album. Even as their last two albums were being marketed however, longstanding personality and management conflicts within the group broke it apart, and in 1970 the band split up, many believed forever. Now, five years later, hot on the heels of the Christmas release of Rebel Girls, the band makes its triumphant return to the concert stage.”

The great dirigible had dropped below the cloud bank now, turning majestically to start its final descent. Stretching out into the distance, one could make out the pillars of smoke rising from a thousand different smokestacks, each belonging to one of the many, many gigantic steam engines that provided electricity for New York City. The reporter on the radio-vid continued.

“We have confirmation that the band’s airship is now arriving at the airport. All four members are confirmed to be aboard. As everyone knows, the Ladybugs are Steffie Sin, Penny Dreadful (born Penelope Dearborn) both of Los Angeles; Ep!phanee (born Theresa Maria Bergman) of Stockholm; and Ruth De Molay, a native of the Virgin Islands. Ep!phanee and Dreadful have both released a series of successful solo albums while Sin and De Molay have released music more sporadically, the latter focusing on a successful movie career while the former has spent a great deal of time in seclusion in Switzerland.”

“Turn that shit off,” said Penny.

“I want to hear what people are saying about us,” replied Ruth.

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” said Steffie. “She’s just pissed off because they used her real name on the air.”

“Penny Dreadful is my real name. I had it legally changed.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but at that moment the captain’s Texas drawl came over the speaker.

“Attention passengers. As we come in for a landing at LaGuardia, I’d like to express thanks on behalf of myself and the company to all of you for flying Pan American Lines, and on a personal note I’d like to say what a privilege it is to pilot the greatest musicians of all time to their first concert of the decade. The crew and I will be looking forward to transporting you safely to Chicago in two days time. In the meantime, break a leg. Here in Queens, the temperature is a balmy 62 degrees and the local time is 6:55 PM.”

“She has a lovely voice,” said Penny.

“She doesn’t know shit about music though,” said Steffie. “If we’re the greatest musicians of all time, where do you rate Mozart, Beethoven, or Enrico Caruso?”

“Do we have time to get to the stadium?” asked Ruth.

“No problem,” assured Alexa, “assuming Piffy has her hair done.”

The last two hours had been spent getting ready for the concert. The band members had donned their custom-made outfits, each a very expensive update of the costumes they had worn on their 1964 tour. They consisted of spandex leggings and a matching bustier. Penny’s was bright red to match her hair which been carefully formed into faux dreads. Steffie’s was black, contrasting with her platinum blond tresses, which were braided into two massive pony tails and interwoven with white and black ribbon. Ruth’s outfit was blue and a blue headband held her natural dreadlocks back.

“I’m ready,” said Ep!phanee standing in the doorway in her own blue outfit, her bright blue hair styled into two buns, one on either side of her head.

The great dirigible made its landing and the crew began hustling instruments to one of the six large airflivvers parked nearby. The band waited impatiently beneath the humongous fuselage for their vehicle to be ready. Each had pulled on their goggles. The air, while breathable, would burn one’s eyes in a very short time without protection.

Alexa stepped close to them. “We’re going in four separate flivvers.”

“Why?” asked Ep!phanee.

“Safety.”

“They got another death threat on me,” said Penny.

“It’s that damned song,” said Steffie. “I told you it was going to be trouble. People aren’t ready to accept homosexuals.”

“We’re all homosexuals,” replied Penny. “I’m just being honest about it.” Then she looked at Alexa. “No offense.”

“You know I still love you.” Though Alexa had cut her hair short, drawn on a pencil thin mustache, and was wearing a man’s suit, she had made no attempt to hide her DD cup breasts.

“We’re all riding together,” said Ep!phanee. “The fans expect to see us climb out of the same hatch.”

“Are you sure?”

Without any further word, Ep!phanee held her umbrella up and stepped briskly across the tarmac to the airflivver parked just in front of the one into which the instruments had been loaded. The others followed. Once all five women were seated, the pilot started the engine. The long, broad dragonfly wings on either side of the vehicle began to flap in a circular motion. The crew, staff, and security piled into the other four craft, and the six airflivvers lifted off together, sailing over the airport terminal, turning in a gentle banking maneuver and winging their way toward Shea Stadium.

Airflivvers had come into use in the early days of the Science War. Afterwards they became common for commercial use. On their first visit to Shea Stadium in 1964, the group had flown in an early Douglas model. These were made by Mitsubishi, and were not only state of the art, but were high class comfort as well.

The convoy stayed below the cloud cover and weaved in and around the great columns of black smoke that were rising into the sky. Within moments they were out of eyesight from LaGuardia, and anyway, their attention was on what was before them rather than what was behind. They didn’t see the majestic airship in which they had arrived suddenly explode, flattening nearby buildings and spreading debris for miles. They didn’t see the fires that sprang up as flaming debris was strewn across the entire airport. Ep!phanee thought she heard something over the airflivver wings, but she took no serious note of it.

In what seemed like an impossibly short time, they were circling the stadium. Even from several hundred feet in the air, anyone could see that virtually every seat was filled. Thousands of flashbulbs began firing as the airflivvers descended. Even more flashbulbs went off once the vehicles set down on the grassy field and disgorged their passengers. Tens of thousands of screaming fans created a deafening din as the four band members rushed to the awning covered stage. Once there, they had to wait as their instruments were brought up, though the amplifiers, electrical systems, and Ruth’s drums were all waiting.

As the aircraft took off again, Ep!phanee looked down to see two police officers talking to Alexa. She shouted down to them, asking what was going on, but the stadium was far too loud to hear anything. Alexa gave her two thumbs up. Turning back to the crowd, Ep!phanee waved and looked around. The group was completely surrounded by more than 55,000 people.

At last all the instruments were arranged and plugged in. It looked like a guitar store. Steffie had three different basses and a Fender Stratocaster 12 string she needed for a single song. Most fans thought of Steffie as “the bass player” because that’s what she did on stage. In the studio, she performed with almost any instrument. She could play the drums better than Ruth and the guitar almost as well as Penny. She could also shine on anything else that she could strum, strike, or blow into. Penny had twelve different guitars, each on its own stand and each played for no more than three songs. The greatest guitarist alive (some said who had ever lived) Penny could make a guitar do anything she wanted, but the guitar had to feel right for the song. Given the wrong instrument, she was just as likely to bust it into splinters as play it. Piffy had only her Westinghouse Dreadful VII, designed to the specifications of and named for her band mate, though her harmonica, her tambourine, her cowbell, and her South American guiro were resting on a pair of stools.

Just as Ruth had taken her seat behind the drums and the others had slipped their straps over their heads, Mayor Stromfeld rushed across the grass and up the steps to the stage. Whatever speech she had planned was quickly cast aside when she got to the microphone. The constant din of the crowd made it impossible for anyone to really hear what she was going to say. She kept it short.

“New York welcomes the Ladybugs!”

Settings: The Maxxim Mansion

Astrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space PlaneAstrid Maxxim and her parents live in a mansion in Maxxim City. It is three stories high and huge, with an observatory, a laboratory, and a music room on the unused third floor. Only a part of the first and second floors are used, the former having a series of unused rooms where servants were once housed.

The inspiration for this mansion comes from two sources. The first is the house that my grandparents lived in when I was born. It was a huge, two-story house made of red brick, that had been built over a hundred years ago as a hotel. About forty years ago, my grandparents sold it and it went through several owners. A few years ago, it was gutted so that it could be rebuilt, but the owners apparently ran out of money. When I visited it last, it was just an empty hulk. The other day I looked for it on Google Earth and found only an empty lot. I have often dreamed of this house, all the way back to when I was a kid. Back then, in my dreams, it often appeared as being much larger than in real life. In recent dreams, it is always in decay.

The second inspiration comes from just a few miles west of the first, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I used to live in a crappy apartment building next to the freeway in Tulsa. This was back when I attended second grade a Paul Revere Elementary School. Across the road from my apartment was a row of stately mansions. A school friend of mine lived with his mother in an apartment above the garage behind one of these large, lovely homes. I believe his grandparents lived in the big house. I remember going inside one time and seeing a sweeping staircase like something out of Falcon Crest. A few years ago, I took my kids on a trip through Tulsa, looking at all the places from my childhood. The row of beautiful old mansions was gone. Paul Revere Elementary School was gone. The crappy apartment building I lived in– still there.

In Astrid Maxxim and her Hypersonic Space Plane, the Maxxim family begins a refurbishment of their home, breathing new life into it and making some modernizations.  Maybe this is me, trying to rebuild those glorious houses from my past.

Motivations: The Dark and Forbidding Land

The Dark and Forbidding LandThe Dark and Forbidding Land was the first of two books that I squeezed between the events that happened in the original outline of Senta and the Steel Dragon, the other being The Young Sorceress. I enjoyed writing TDAFL and I think it works well. Part of that was because writing about Senta as a pre-teen was my favorite part of writing the entire series.

One of the challenges of writing this book was not to top the events in The Drache Girl. I didn’t want Senta aged 10 to be more powerful and experienced than Senta aged 12. Remember Star Wars, where we watch R2-D2 trudge around in the desert in episode 4, only to find out in episode 1, that he could fly.

The other challenge that I had was that I knew there were going to be characters who were going to die, based on my single book outline. But I was limited in which characters I could kill, because some of them appeared in The Drache Girl and The Two Dragons which were already written. So I sat down and created a whole pack of characters who, unbeknownst to them, were doomed. The down side of this was that I ended up liking several of them and was sorry to see them go. Not all of them ended up dying. So, there are a couple of characters who appear only in books 2 and 4.

I haven’t read The Dark and Forbidding Land in a while, so I have to go back and take a look. My son though, tells me it is his favorite book in the series. When I created the new book covers for the series, book 2 just had to have a T-Rex on it.  I had a choice of one with a red head, as described in the book or one that looked more realistic.  I had to go realistic.

Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar Challenge – 99 cents at Smashwords

Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar ChallengeAstrid Maxxim, brilliant teenage inventor returns. Astrid is looking forward to racing against a professional driving team to prove her electric racecar can take on the gas-guzzlers. Then without warning, she wakes up in the hospital with partial amnesia. What could have happened to her? Now everyone treats her like she’s brain-damaged! What if her IQ really did drop to 184? What a nightmare!

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Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar Challenge: Chapter 1

Astrid Maxxim and the Electric Racecar ChallengeAstrid opened her eyes. All she could see were shadows—human shaped shadows leaning over her. All she could hear were whispers and beeps and a swooshing sound. Every single part of her hurt. Then everything went black. When she opened her eyes again, things made more sense. She was in a hospital room. Light was streaming in through the window blinds. A woman in colorful hospital scrubs was leaning over her.

“Awake?” the woman asked.

Astrid tried to nod, but she couldn’t. So she tried to speak but the only thing that came out was a croak.

“Don’t try to move your head. It’s immobilized. Let me get you a sip of water.” She held up a cup with a straw and Astrid sipped. It was like swallowing razor blades. “I know. It hurts. Don’t worry. It will get better. Try another sip.”

“Are you… nurse?” Astrid managed after the second sip.

“Yes. My name is Amelia. I’m your day nurse. I’m going to get the doctor. If you promise not to try to move very much, I’ll unfasten your hands.”

Up until that moment, Astrid hadn’t realized it, but her hands were tied to the sides of the bed. She saw, once Amelia had untied them, that there were intravenous fluids going through a needle stuck in her left arm behind her left wrist. Her right arm was in a cast. The nurse left, and returned a few minutes later with a dark-haired, handsome man wearing a white lab coat.

“Hello, Astrid,” he said. “I’m Dr. Phillips. I’m going to take a quick look at you, if you don’t mind.” He looked at her eyes with a tiny flashlight and then examined the top of her head.

“Can you wiggle your fingers? How about your toes.” All of the appendages seemed to be functioning correctly.

“What happened?” Astrid’s voice was a whisper.

“Well, what do you remember?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Do you know your name? Do you know how old you are?”

“I’d know I was Astrid even if I didn’t remember. You just called me that. I’m Astrid Maxxim. I’m fifteen.”

“Where do you live?”

“I… I don’t remember. I… I live in a really big house.”

“Do you remember your school?”

“I… I’m a sophomore. I know that.” She clenched her fists in frustration. “Can you untie my head?”

“All right. When you started to come to yesterday, you began jerking around a lot in your sleep. We didn’t want you to send yourself back into surgery”

As the doctor removed whatever was holding her head, she reached up and touched her scalp, finding that her beautiful shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair was gone. In its place was an unruly mass of spikes about an inch long.

“When did I have surgery? What happened to me?”

“You had brain surgery three weeks ago. You had an accident. That’s all you really need to know right now.”

“Was anyone else hurt?”

“No, Astrid. You were the only one.”

Exhaustion suddenly overcame her, and Astrid closed her eyes and let sleep swallow her up again. In and out of slumber, time seemed to lose all meaning. Then she was awake again and Amelia was giving her a sweet, soothing drink.

“Astrid, there are a couple of people who really want to see you,” said the nurse. “Do you feel up to visitors?”

“Sure.”

Her nurse stepped out of the room, and a moment later Astrid’s mother stepped in, hurrying over to her side. Kate Maxxim was just as beautiful as ever, tall and elegant with the same shade of strawberry blond hair that her daughter now missed. She looked very tired. The blue business suit she wore was a bit crumpled. On her heels was a man in a white shirt with a blue tie.

“How are you feeling, Sweetie?”

“Better now that you’re here, Mom. It’s so disorienting to wake up and not know where you are or how you got here.”

“It’s all better now,” said Mrs. Maxxim. “Don’t worry about remembering the accident. The doctors said you might have a little trouble with your memory at first.”

“Yeah. It’s weird. I remember my room, but I c… can’t remember our address. It’s just right there. I just can’t quite get it. I want to talk to you about it. I know I can remember then.”

Her mother sat down in the chair on Astrid’s left side.

“We’ll have a nice long talk right now. We’ll talk about anything you want to.”

“Great,” said Astrid with a sigh. She pointed to the man with the blue tie. “Let’s let this doctor check me out first and then we can talk without being disturbed.”

“Astrid, this isn’t a doctor,” said her mother, suddenly looking alarmed.

“Astrid, don’t you know me?” the man asked.

She looked up into his friendly face and kind eyes behind horn rimmed glasses. He was handsome with his brown hair just turning grey at the temples.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met,” said Astrid.

“Honey, this is your father,” said Mrs. Maxxim.

“Is he?” asked Astrid with wonder. “Then… um, are you two married?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Maxxim’s voice cracked when she answered.

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Astrid, looking up at him. A tear slid down his face from behind his glasses. “Should I call you Dad or Daddy?”

“You call me Dad.”

“I do? You mean we’ve met?”

“Yes Astrid. We’ve lived together all your life.”

“Um, Dad? Do you think I could talk to Mom alone for a little while?”

The man nodded and quickly left the room.

“I feel really bad,” said Astrid. “I probably really hurt his feelings, but I don’t remember him at all.”

“It’s okay, Honey. Don’t feel bad. Your memory will come back and everything will be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said her mother forcefully. “I’m sure.”

“Okay. Please, Mom. Tell me what happened to me. I know I had an accident, but I don’t know anything else.”

“I can tell you some of it, Astrid. The doctors don’t want us telling you anything except what we know for sure. They think you might create false memories based on what you hear from us. That might make it harder for your own memories to come back. The truth is, I don’t know all the details. All I know is that you were on a field trip with your class and you fell while climbing and hit your head. You were bleeding into your brain and the doctors had to rush you into surgery to relieve the pressure. You also broke your arm and two ribs, and you have a couple of other hairline fractures.”

“It was Outdoor Survival.”

“You remember?”

“No. I don’t remember falling or even a field trip. I do know I have Outdoor Survival seventh period. Austin sits next to me.”

“You remember Austin?” asked her mother.

“Sure,” said Astrid. “Oh no! I didn’t miss his birthday, did I? It’s February third.”

“Oh, I’m afraid so. That was a week and a half ago. Would you like Austin and your friends to come visit you? They’ve all been asking about you.”

“Sure, that would be great.”

“Can we have your father come back in?”

Astrid nodded. Her mother went out and returned with the man she said was Astrid’s father. They both sat down and the three of them talked about home and about their work at Maxxim Industries. Astrid really couldn’t remember anything about her father, but she liked him. They began discussing Astrid’s inventions, but at some point in the conversation, Astrid drifted off. When she woke, her mother was gone, but her father was still there.

“You invented the hoverdisk, didn’t you?” she asked him.

“Did you remember that?”

“Not really. I deduced it. I remember building my hoverbike and using hoverdisks. I didn’t invent them, so they had to come from somewhere. I know my mother isn’t an inventor, so it must have been you.”

“Brilliant as always,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Can I see your phone?”

He pulled it from his pocket and unlocked it with his fingerprint, before handing it to her. Once she had it in her hand, she flipped open the photo app and began scrolling through it.

“Lots of pictures of me,” she said. “It’s a good thing I know you’re my dad or I would think you were some kind of weird stalker.”

“When I come back tomorrow, I’ll bring your tablet and then you can look through all your pictures. That might spark some memories for you.”

“Can’t I just come home?” asked Astrid.

“The doctors say not for a few more days.”

She held up the phone with a picture of two men sitting together.

“Are you Uncle Carl’s brother?”

“You remember Uncle Carl?”

“Yes. It’s so strange. I remember Uncle Carl and I remember he’s married, but I can’t remember anything about his wife.”

“Do you remember his daughter?”

“Uncle Carl has a daughter?”

“Yes, and yes, Carl is my brother. Do you remember Aunt Penny?”

Astrid shook her head.

“Well, at least you remember somebody from my family,” he said.

“I’m really sorry, um… Dad.”

“That’s okay, Astrid. Everything will be all right.”