A Novel Teaser!

Okay, cover designers, here's a little more for you.

I decided to go ahead and post up a couple of snippets of the new novel to give you a 'feel' for the voices and maybe a sniff of the atmosphere. And, yes, you're not mistaken, the story is written in two voices. Odd numbered chapters are from the perspective of the main character, even from the third person point of view of those around her. It works for James Patterson.

Anyway, here you go. I hope you enjoy. Please keep in mind that these clips (from chapters 1 and 2) are pre-first draft. Names and other things may change before the re-write into the blog site (to be named).

For details about the COVER DESIGN CONTEST, please see www.michaelrigg.com.

Have fun!

Main characters mentioned:
Woman: as yet unnamed. The main character of the story
Captain Bryce Landers: A young 'Southern Gentleman' from Virginia with charm and accent to match.
Lucien Howard: A potbellied Englishman, the butler of Bryce's father.

BRASS HEART
(excerpt)
(working title for the romantic-fantasy-steampunk blognovel)
by Michael J. Rigg

My eyes opened to bright sunlight, a chill, dampness, and the screams of women and shouts of men.

My arms and legs couldn't move. The skin of my limbs and neck were filled with cold lead but I could tell from the chilled air rushing across my body that I was naked. I closed my eyes again, willing the apparition away, but I had no touch with reality. I had no memory. I had no name.

Barely turning my head, I could see that I was on a galvanized metal platform of some kind, rusty black with spots and stains of extinguished cigars or cigarettes and islands of chewed gum that had long since been ground into the plate around me. An iron gridwork with bronze and brass fixtures for lights, plackards and shingles of ornate signs with fancy lettering served as my ceiling though I couldn't focus enough to read them.

Beyond all this, to my right was sky. Clear, azure without a single cloud and thrumming with the distant vibration of what appeared to be scores of flying machines. Small motorized balloons, biplanes, and winged bicycles kept their unseen lanes of traffic out beyond my metal horizon, too distant for me to see their riders and pilots. In the foreground, closer to me, stretched a long angled flag pole topped with an eagle. A huge flag the size of a bedsheet flapped in the heavy high-altitude wind that whipped by. The flag held a field of white stars on midnight blue in the upper left corner, the rest was as red as the inside of my eyeslids when I closed them against the brightness.

To my left a woman screamed again. Another said, "Shocking!" Still another with a pronounced English accent exclaimed,"Did anyone see where she came from? Who she was with?"

I wish I had those answers myself. My eyes scrunched closed as I struggled to come up with anything, even my name.

__________


Bryce Landers stepped out through the revolving door of Thorne and Wolfe and strode out to the broad yellow band that warned pedestrians that they were getting too close to the edge of the tower platform. An airship cruised by belching black smoke, steam and bristling with gun turrets and masts.

"The HMS Independence," shouted the voice of Lucien Howard above the clanking rumble of the ship as it glided by. Lucien stepped up behind Bryce and tucked his pipe stem between his puffy lips, then struck a match to light it, cupping the flame to keep the high altitude cross-breeze from snuffing it out. "Beautiful, is she not?"

Ignoring the observation, Bryce winced and drawled, "I don't understand why my father sent me all the way up to New York to see to contracts that he himself had settled. He knows I'm against them."

"It's a show of force, my boy," Lucien said puffing on the pipe. "You're Captain Landers, the renowned hero of the Mason-Dixon war, the strongest and wisest of your brothers." He removed the pipe and clapped a meaty hand on Bryce's shoulder. When he spoke again his voice carried the commitment and dedication for the Landers family but also the consolation of a friend "What's more, you know your father hates to travel. And, he thought it would be good for that weasel Yankee Thorne to see a soldier across the table."

"More of daddy's saber-rattlin'," Bryce smirked. "If he can't fight no more, Lucien, he ought to try peace and stop pushin' others to the front lines. Besides," Bryce groused, "We are at peace, not war. We licked the Yankees several times over. We got our rights and our freedom a century ago. We acquired the Mexican territories and tariffs in southern Europe. Why not let it lie? If daddy wants to start somethin' with Thorne, he's goin' to lead us into a global war startin' right here with the Imperial United States and all over what? Some stupid square of saltwater property that ain't worth the fish beneath it."

Leaning close, his voice lowering just enough to be heard above the fading airship's motors, Lucien said, "Now you look here. Everything your father worked for is out there under those waves. If you can't secure the Norfolk Locks Thorne's company will take the properties on default. And if that happens--"

Bryce knew the valet was speaking as much from the perspective of his own job security as the well-being of the Landers family, but he hid his smirk from the man as he continued to stare out at the cityscape and the Atlantic beyond. "If that happens, the empire will own everything from California to the Ukraine. So what?" Bryce lifted his shoulders and let them fall. "The alternative is that father stands on his claim, doesn't take the money, and we end up losin' lives defending that water-logged target, or worse yet, everything."

Lucien started to speak, but Bryce kept at it. "And, yes, Lucien, it is a target. If father gets the contract on the Atlantic territories it will only take one hit from an imperial submarine to end it all. You think insurance will cover an act of war?"

"Look, my boy, your father--"

And that's when the screaming started.