Gotta love the Beach!! LOL..I have Jaye Frances here with me and as we sip on some Mai Tia's under this beautiful canopy near the water, we are discussing her latest and greatest. But I'll let Jaye fill you in on the details :) I'm going to relax and enjoy my drink and pray I don't have to play firefighter if our grass lean-to gets too close to the candles...lol...Take it away Jaye:
Thank you,
Nikki, for hosting me today on Close Encounters of the Night Kind with my newly
released sci-fi fantasy, The Beach.
Always a pleasure to have you here Jaye!!
I have the
opportunity to meet lots of new people in my travels. And I’m always
appreciative of the chance to learn and explore new ideas, perspectives, and
opinions—especially from those who may at first seem to be a bit different,
even eccentric.
In fact, many
of those encounters turn out to be quite serendipitous.
So when I
began to develop Alan, the main character in The Beach, I created him
with a bit of a contentious personality, allowing him to express controversial
viewpoints and politically incorrect attitudes without hesitation. And while I
certainly wouldn’t want him as a neighbor, his character made him the ideal
protagonist to experience the irony and paradox of getting exactly what you
wish for.
In the
following excerpt from The Beach, Alan is at home in his beachside
bungalow, examining an unusual oddity that he found on the shore. Little does
he know that he is about to have one of those fateful encounters in the form of
a stranger who offers to turn Alan’s deepest desire into reality.
Here’s an excerpt:
Alan
picked it up carefully and brought it close to one eye, peering into the
elaborate maze of cavities and compartments.
“There
is nothing inside.” The voice was deep and sure and it came from behind.
Surprised,
Alan twisted around on one foot, dropping the honeycombed remains of his juju
bottle. It bounced off the floor and flipped up on one end, apparently able to
right itself under its own power.
“There
was, though not any longer,” the intruder added. “What was once there is now
here, standing before you.”
Alan’s
first thought was that he’d caught one of the kids from the beach slipping into
the house, probably trying to steal something. But this was no kid. And while
he knew most of the local panhandlers, this guy didn’t resemble any of them.
“What
are you doing in my house?” Alan barked. “You can’t just come in here and sneak
up on me like that.”
The
stranger’s mouth broadened into a wide smile. “Oh, I beg to differ. I can do
exactly that. Actually, there is very little I cannot do.”
His
accent was dripping with a British lilt. Maybe Australian. His
clothes—neatly-pressed khakis, a pale blue button-down shirt, and brown
calfskin loafers—were yuppie-casual yet tailored to precisely fit his six-foot
frame. His grooming was impeccable, with neatly trimmed sandy-blonde hair, a
clean shave, and movie star teeth. Alan estimated the man to be about
thirty-five.
“You
need to get out of here before I call the cops. You hear me?”
“Why
certainly I hear you. Although it’s a wonder I can still hear anything with all
that racket going on. I assumed I was being summoned to a situation of utmost
urgency, so I came as quickly as the ether would allow.”
“The
what?”
“The
ether.”
Alan
shrugged his shoulders, his rising irritation pushing him closer to picking up
the phone and calling the sheriff.
“The
ether seals,” the intruder said. “The inscribed stonework that allows my coming
and going. The helix is always in motion, sometimes offering the risk and
reward of opportunity, other times simply foretelling an unchangeable future.”
Alan
knew that some of the “artistic” types occasionally wandered up from as far
south as Key West, and a few of them could be eccentric as hell. He decided his
best approach was to stay calm and try to get this guy out of his house before
he could do any real damage.
“You’re
not from around here, are you?”
“Oh,
contraire,” the stranger answered. “I am from here . . . and there. In fact, I
cannot think of a single place I haven’t been. Places on and off this little
sphere on which you live.” He paused, his expression frozen in a flash of blank
absence, as if in that fleeting instant he was somewhere else, distracted by
another conversation. Then in a moment too short to measure, his attention
returned, his features fully animated. “And I suppose you still call this part
of your planet, oh, let me see, what was that word?” He pronounced it
phonetically, in broken syllables. “Ah . . . mare . . . eee . . . ka.”
“America,”
Alan repeated. “We say, America.”
“Yes,
yes, that’s it!”
Alan
nodded slightly in placation. “So what do you want?” It sounded demanding, and
Alan immediately changed his tone, concerned the strange man might be harboring
violent tendencies. “I mean, how can I help you?”
“I
don’t think you can. That is, I’ve never received help from anyone before.
Never needed it. I appreciate the offer. Certainly do. I’m going to take note
of it. Make sure you get full credit during the . . . negotiations.”
Here’s
a brief synopsis:
Alan
loves the beach. More than a weekend respite, it is his home, his refuge, his
sanctuary. And for most of the year, he strolls the sand in blissful solitude,
letting nature—and no one else—touch him. But
spring has given way to summer, and soon, the annual invasion of vacationers
and tourists will subdivide the beach with blankets, umbrellas, and chairs,
depriving Alan of his privacy and seclusion—the fundamental touchstones of his
life.
Resigned to
endure another seasonal onslaught of beach-goers, Alan believes there is
nothing he can do but prepare for the worst.
But
fate has other plans.
Delivered to
him on the crest of a rogue wave, the strange object appears to have no
purpose, no practical use—until Alan accidentally discovers what waits inside.
Now he must attempt to
unravel an ageless mystery, unaware that the final outcome will change his
life, and the beach, forever.
In the
companion novella Short Time, you’ll meet a respectable but bored
middle-class executive, who exchanges his future for six months of
excess and extravagance, only to find out the price he must pay for his
hedonistic indulgence is beyond anything he could have imagined.
Author
Bio: Jaye Frances is the author of The Kure,
a paranormal-occult romance novel, The Possibilities of Amy, a
coming-of-age romance, The Cruise-All That Glitters, a humorous adult
satire about love on the high seas, and The Beach, a sci-fi fantasy
about a man who is given the opportunity to receive his ultimate wish—and lives
to regret it. She is also a featured columnist for the NUSA SUN magazine. Born
in the Midwest, Jaye readily admits that her life’s destination has been the result
of an open mind and a curiosity about all things irreverent. When she’s not
consumed by her writing, Jaye enjoys cooking, traveling to all places tropical
and “beachy” and taking pictures—lots of pictures—many of which find their way
to her website. Jaye lives on the central gulf coast of Florida, sharing her
home with one husband, six computers, four cameras, and several hundred pairs
of shoes. For more information, visit Jaye’s website at www.jayefrances.com, or Jaye’s Blog at http://blog.jayefrances.com
The Beach is available now in kindle eBook on Amazon at a reduced Introductory
Release Price of $0.99 until September
15, 2012:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
5 comments:
the beach!
I like the park
In front of a fireplace while it is snowing outside or ouside in a hot tub while it is snowing.....I like the winter :)
A park on the shore of Lake Michigan
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