by Marie Andreas
I was hoping that the second book in my space opera trilogy—The
Asarlaí Wars—would be ready by this blog post—alas, the wench is proving more
trying and isn’t ready to come out just yet.
So, I thought I’d bring up something I’ve always found
interesting- book titles.
I currently have my Asarlaí War trilogy space opera, a humorous
fantasy series called The Lost Ancients, and soon will have a steampunk series.
The term Asarlaí is an Irish term that means sorcerer,
wizard, or magician. I was looking for a term like that, and I liked the way
the word looked. The accent over the ‘I’ is a pain as I have to adjust it
everywhere I mention the series ;). (Note—might want to stay away from accented
words ;))
The titles in the series are Warrior Wench, Victorious Dead
(the trouble child still in edits) and Defiant Ruin. I wanted titles that were
short and could hold double meaning. All three titles are names of space ships in the books, and they also speak
to what’s going on in the series.
My main character Vaslisha Tor Dain is not someone who would
take being called a Wench lightly, but with a ship of that name it does happen.
Victorious Dead concerns not only the name of her beloved ship, but people lost
in the first book. Defiant Ruin sort of explains what happens when everything
in the Galaxy goes to hell in a handbasket.
My humorous Fantasy series started out with a very long
title for the first book: The Glass Gargoyle of The Last Elven King. Yeah, that
got axed. There is a relic in that book—the glass gargoyle—so that became the
title. The rest of the books all are named after other relics.
The steam punk is an open ended series, same couple, but not
in a set number of books. I only have one title set so far—book one: A Curious
Invasion. I wanted something again fairly short, but also that fit with the whimsy
of a lighter steam punk (and there is an alien invasion as well ;)).
I see my titles as important as the covers in setting my brand.
As a reader I enjoy books in a series that share a style of title. Adds to the
cohesiveness for me.
What about you? What are your feelings about titles—both for
series and for specific books?
BLURB:
Vaslisha Tor Dain is a mercenary starship captain
with a few simple rules: A good ship is better than a great man, in case of
confusion always err on the side of blowing someone's head off, and never fall
for a telepath or a member of her crew.
All of those are about to bite her in the ass.
Vas’s life takes a turn for the worse when she comes back to her crew after what should have been a two week pleasure trip to find out she’s actually been gone a month and has no memory of missing time. Her beloved ship, The Victorious Dead, has been sold for scrap and its pieces scattered throughout the galaxy. In addition, there are unmarked ships blowing apart entire planets and the Commonwealth government can’t, or won’t, stop them.
And that’s just her first day back.
Vas has to fight her crew, the Commonwealth, and a mysterious cadre of warrior monks to get her ship back and save a universe that may not want to be saved.
Vas’s life takes a turn for the worse when she comes back to her crew after what should have been a two week pleasure trip to find out she’s actually been gone a month and has no memory of missing time. Her beloved ship, The Victorious Dead, has been sold for scrap and its pieces scattered throughout the galaxy. In addition, there are unmarked ships blowing apart entire planets and the Commonwealth government can’t, or won’t, stop them.
And that’s just her first day back.
Vas has to fight her crew, the Commonwealth, and a mysterious cadre of warrior monks to get her ship back and save a universe that may not want to be saved.
EXCERPT:
The droid’s sharp rap on the door lead to muffled
swearing in two different languages. Which told her two things: they’d found
Deven, and he wasn’t gambling for money.
Her second-in-command had many appetites.
She stepped around the droid and added her own pounding
to the door. “Deven, it’s me. Get your ass out here.” She paused, and added,
“Clothed. Get your clothed ass out here.” Better to be safe. He preferred stark
naked.
An increase in the swearing signaled his acknowledgment
of her command. The door swung open and a curvaceous blonde stumbled out of the
room, a dazed glow on her face. Obviously, Deven had been the one making the
extra cash in this scenario.
Her
second-in-command was next through the doorway, looking as fresh as if he’d had
time for an hour-long sonic shower before he dressed. Tall and exotic looking,
Deven seemed to glow himself as he came out of the room. His standard issue
flight suit looking like he’d had it been personally tailored to fit his body
like a glove. He’d always been good looking, but he seemed different now. She
shivered. Maybe absence did make the heart grow fonder. However, it certainly
wasn’t going to make her break her rule about getting involved with a member of
her crew. Or a telepath.
Deven’s sharp green eyes glinted with mild amusement at
whatever he thought was going on in her head. Then he smiled and pulled his
dark hair into a ponytail at his nape.
She hated him for always looking perfect. No matter the
situation, Deven stayed calm, clean, and relaxed. Somehow she was sure he did
it to piss her off. Maybe that anger could chase off whatever other unhealthy
feelings were going on in her head.
“We’ve got a problem, a job, and a missing crew.” She
didn’t wait for him to respond before she marched toward the casino floor.
She didn’t hear his steps, but the powerful presence at
her side told her he’d caught up.
“You were supposed to be here two weeks ago.”
“Yes.” A two-foot-tall Jerlian in a permanently wrinkled
suit, sloshed synth-cohol on her boots as he tried to hug her knees. Had
Skrankle not already managed to ruin said boots, she would have seen how far
she could kick a Jerlian on a low-grav planet. Instead, she took two steps
around him and moved toward the exit.
“You didn’t call.”
“No, I didn’t. My being late has nothing to do with you
or our next job. Can we move it, please?” She didn’t want to discuss her recent
travels, and certainly not in the middle of a casino. Nothing had happened. She
was just late. There just wasn’t a reason to talk about it. She squashed the
tiny voice that said she needed to talk about it.
“Vas saying please?
Now I know something is wrong.” Deven pulled up short before the casino exit.
It would take a week to get off this rock if her entire
crew decided to be this chatty about her private issues. “I don’t ask what
you’re doing,” she said and held up a hand. “I don’t want to know. I’m not
going to tell you what I was doing. We have a job and we have a ship. Do you
want to earn some money on your feet for once or not?”
“Ouch, got me.” The smile he flashed caused two nearby
women to swoon as Vas and Deven left the casino.
“Turn it down, damn it,” she hissed with a glance down at
his bracelets. There were times he pulled a glamour that had to be esper
powered, bracelets or no. He didn’t need it; he was freakishly good looking
enough on his own. “I can’t have you jailed at this point.”
AUTHOR BIO:
Marie is a fantasy and science fiction
reader with a serious writing addiction. If she wasn’t writing about all of the
people in her head, she’d be lurking about coffee shops annoying innocent
passer-by with her stories. So really, writing is a way of saving the masses.
She lives in Southern California and is currently owned by two insane cats.
When not saving the general populace from
coffee shop shenanigans, Marie likes to visit the UK and keeps hoping someone
will give her a nice summer home in the Forest of Dean.