Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Welcome Fandom Fest Panelist Charlie Kenmore!


ARM:      Where do you get the inspiration for your stories or characters?

Charlie: Inspiration comes from many different sources including, inter alia, current events, historical events, mythologies, alternate histories and fortune cookies. The characters walk on as needed once a literary venue is opened.

ARM:      Do your characters talk to you?

Charlie: No. My characters don’t talk to me. I only talk to the Muse. She is responsible for all communications. No, girls. I’m writing an interview for Alexx Momcat. We’ll work on the next PowerPack Girls adventure later. No, thank you anyway, but I don’t need any help. Okay, fine,  I’ll tell her. Now go on and do something heroic, but be back in time for dinner. I find it much easier if the Muse handles and organizes everything. That way if I disagree, I only have to fight with one entity. Oh, yeah, before I forget, the Pseudo-triplets wanted me to send their regards to Auntie Alyxx.

ARM:      What other authors would you suggest to fans of you work?

Charlie: For those that appreciate the lighter aspects of fantasy and science fiction, then Piers Anthony. For those that like their fiction a bit darker, Jim Butcher or Simon R. Green. For the logophiles who are less enamored with plot lines, and more concerned with the lexicon used to relate the tale, I recommend Noah Webster.

ARM:      What are some things that you would like your fans to know about you?

Charlie: I can write at 83.46% efficiency with my eighteen year old cat perched on my right shoulder. Unfortunately, my typing skills are diminished by 92.91%.

ARM:      Do you have a current work in progress?

Charlie: I always have a couple of different works in progress going at any given time. The Muse likes to keep things fresh. The main project currently is the next segment of a science fiction tale about Aabharika, the Budhi Pallien 4 private investigator, second class.

ARM:      What are you excited about doing or seeing at Fandom Fest?

Charlie: I look forward to live meetings with a number of the other authors that I’ve only met electronically. The morning line is 3 to 1 that half of them are real people. (Curiously, the line is 7 to 5 that the other half are not.)

ARM:      Where can we find out more about you and your books?

Charlie: I’m a regular contributor at Fandom Scene. http://fandomfestblog.com/category/charlie-kenmore.  You can also find me at the Seven Realms EarthsideCommunications Center. I’m also on Facebook.

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EARTH ANGEL
By CHARLIE KENMORE 
Blurb:
There are seven parallel worlds known as the Seven Realms which are separated by a Veil. Six are inhabited by all manner of entities, some natural, some not. That may not be the case for much longer. The first portion of the High Sidhe Prophecy of the Sevens has been fulfilled. The Anarch, who is one with the Veil, has escaped. If she chooses, she can part or drop the Veil or she can lift the Veil in its entirety. The Seven Realms will converge. The laws of physics and magic will collide head on. Unless she is stopped, there will be nothing left.

Queen Amura has called for an assembly of the signatories to the High Sidhe's Second Accords, a multi-realm peace treaty to consider how to deal with the threat of the Anarch. An Earthside TechnoWitch and other dark forces also are seeking to control the Anarch. Prince Dzhok (Jack) , High Sidhe Ambassador Salash (Jack's oldest friend and lover), and Valkyrie Brunhilde set out to find and befriend the Anarch before all is lost.
Purchase Links:
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Excerpt from Aabharika by Charlie Kenmore:

     I slipped out of the back of the Tush Majal around 4:00 p.a.t. (primary alpha time), just as the cops came pouring in the front. It’s not what you think. Okay, it’s exactly what you think. But the prospective client had set the time and place for the meeting. Unfortunately, the prospect was a no show. I had a sinking feeling that the unwelcome arrival of the cops was related to the no show. Billy Crudup, who runs the TM for the Slinking Tiger Clan, keeps everyone who matters pretty well greased. 

     I took two quick steps from the door into the dark alley before my feet flew out from under me. I landed on my ass in the same slick that caused me to lose my normal nimble sure footedness. It hurt both my pride and my ass. It was also pretty disgusting. 

     I moved my right hand behind me looking for a dry spot to get some leverage to push myself back up. Unfortunately, instead I found a face. I did not need to turn around to know with a reasonable degree of certainty that it belonged to my no show. I turned around anyway and lit a soft-light stick.

     I was right. It was a face, or at least most of one. The left side was pretty much caved in, and one eye was missing. The light orange complexion coupled with the dual rows of razor sharp teeth confirmed that this was an Inwhean, one of the desert folk of Enchil 7. The odds of finding more than one Inwhean on Budhi Pallien 4 outside of the diplomatic zone at New Greater Chennai were pretty slim at best. The odds of finding one anywhere near the Tush Majal in the specialized entertainment district at 4:00 p.a.t. were astronomical. This was definitely my no show. And I had just left my DNA all over its face. Yes, I understand that “its” is pretty impersonal. But I am not particularly familiar with Inwhean physiology. So determining the victim’s sex in an otherwise pitch black alley lit by a single soft-light stick was beyond me, particularly since all I had to work with was the victim’s smashed in face. The rest of the victim’s body, and the back of its skull were missing. Okay, I could probably determine the sex from the color of the victim’s blood, either dark blue for male, or light green for female. I was certainly covered with enough of it. But to make that determination I would need more light, and more light was the last thing I wanted at that moment.

     By then, the cops would have known that the Inwhean was not inside the TM. Any second, the back door was going to fly open, and a dozen or more would pour into the alley. Each of them would be armed and carrying standard illum-bars that would light up the area like it was triple noon. I saw no personal benefit to being the first thing they saw. There was also nothing to be gained by leaving the Inwhean’s face with my DNA for them to collect. I have a top tier lawyer on retainer. Under normal circumstances, I probably couldn’t afford a third tier lawyer. However, I found and rescued her kidnapped daughter a couple of cycles back. So for one credit a cycle (paid in advance), I get unlimited representation. But I prefer not to call her unless absolutely necessary. The less she knows, the fewer questions she asks. The fewer questions she asks, the fewer answers I have to give her. 

     I took a quick look around the alley for something to carry the Inwhean’s face in. The alley was relatively spotless. Of course, I have to find a bloody face in an alley behind an establishment run by a fastidious criminal consortium. It was the next to last thing I wanted to do, the last thing being still sitting there when the cops burst into the alley. But I really needed to have both hands free. Whoever or whatever left the face in the alley could still be lurking about. I needed to be able to defend myself. So I stuffed the Inwhean’s face under my shirt. If I kept to the shadows, it would look like I had used my baby allowance. I felt my gorge rising, but forced it back. It was time to move. 

     I quick marched to the end of the alley, and removed my BP195.95 credit all-temp and terrain Rising Sun Celestial Islands tabis. I would have to get rid of them, of course. It broke my heart. It took me half a cycle on a waiting list (and another twenty-five credits under the table) to get them. When the cops followed the trail of bloody footprints to the street, hopefully they would think that the owner stepped into a vehicle. I wasted another precious couple of seconds willing the soles of my feet to harden, then braved my way the remaining two blocks through the refuse and debris, sentient and otherwise, that began at the edge of the TM’s well lit and ferociously guarded parking lot, to where I had left my decrepit third hand, fourteen cycle old, PCU (Personal Conveyance Unit-what marketing genius dreamed up that name?). The itching started when I was halfway there.

CK copyright 2012
Moral rights asserted by Author worldwide (including, but not limited to, G.B. in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 198

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