I have an excuse for neglecting my personal blog. No, not running marathons or fighting crime or any of that.

I’ve been writing.

I’ve been writing a lot. I revised/rewrote three manuscripts this year to the point where they were new works, and wrote another entirely new book. I also have been doing weekly reviews of DC Comics at GeekMom, plus myriad blogging here, there, and elsewhere. If I have any regrets, it’s that I should do my blogging in this space more often.

But, good news first.

Galaxy Express/SFRQ believes my Phoenix Institute series should be adapted for television!

romance novella, police drama

Christmas can be murder on a relationship that’s on the rocks.

“Corrina Lawson’s Phoenix Institute series could join the ranks of SUPERGIRL, DAREDEVIL, ARROW, and THE FLASH to draw both romance and superhero fans.” That’s the fun quote but you should go read the whole article because it recommends some awesome, awesome books. (Also, yes, Hollywood, Get On This! 🙂

Philippa Lodge, reader extraordinaire, put Luminous and Ghosts of Christmas Past as part of the “Best Books I read in 2015:”

Ghosts of Christmas Past” and “Luminous“, Lawson (super hero romance. I love her novel-length books, but these two novellas really hit me just right.)”

Best part? Her list also includes Kristan Higgins and Nalani Singh. That is fine company, indeed.

Last year at this time, I said I was jumping off a cliff and writing my first urban fantasy. It took me longer than I wanted, given the distractions offered by life and the other manuscripts, but I finished a polished draft of The Crystal Tower and sent it to my agent in early December.

It’s not a romance, though there is sex in it. The general high concept is that a descendant of King Arthur, Aurelia Artos, must confront her magical legacy that includes a curse that’s warping the present day. It’s set in the fictional American city of St. Isca, there are Native American legends as part of the magic, and, naturally, some modern versions of characters in the Arthurian myth. It’s also about situations like Ferguson and Baltimore. In fact, you could say Luminous and Ghosts of Christmas Past were dry runs at the concept since the setting is similar.

I know, I may have bitten off more than I can chew but, for this book, it was either go big or go home. Boom or bust. Hopefully, when I write this New Year post in 2017, it will be to list “sold The Crystal Tower” as one of the accomplishments.

WriteHardDieFree

 

 

First, look at one of my Mother’s Day presents:

agent carter, SHIELD

Yep, time to get cracking on the Agent Carter cosplay.

That was from the eldest daughter who, UNBELIEVABLY….

Graduates college this weekend.

The mind boggles.

I also received three wonderful reviews of my books.

A 4-Star review from the Romantic Times magazine (the biggest romance magazine going) for Phoenix Inheritance, calling it an “all around great book.”

The longer quote:

“Lawson’s newest addition to the Phoenix Institute series is sentimental, exciting and also spotlights Charlie, an autistic boy who steals the show at times. Fans of the paranormal will be wowed right out of their seats, and those who love romance won’t feel left out either, thanks to the passionate sex scenes, which are tastefully done. The several twists and turns keep readers engaged in the suspenseful plot. An all-around great book! – 

2. Another review of Phoenix Inheritance that used explanations points for “recommended” at Just Talking BooksI love it when reviews use exclamation points.

What really surprised me was the concept of making their son Charlie autistic. I found it quite poignant that both parents had a very different approach to their son’s behaviour. Renee is a woman fighting for support for her son, whilst for a lot of the story Dax is a man in denial and that felt very realistic. I’m sure it’s terribly difficult for parents to accept any difference in their child and ignorance and prejudice is an awful thing. Luckily, as the story progressed, Dax grew in my estimation (trust me he had a lot to make up for!) and realised autism is not something to run from but just a part of his son’s makeup. Charlie’s autism is, quite simply, just a part of who he is and all differences should be embraced!”

3. An unexpected and welcome review of my Holmes-inspired steampunk, The Curse of the Brimstone Contract at Ramblings From This Chick. 

“There is so much more than a mystery to be solved in this book. Romance. Of course there is romance. Gregor’s and Joan’s ability to merge their minds to solve a mystery presages the sweet uniting of their hearts. In addition to mystery and romance, there are class issues, an arranged marriage (unwanted), old magic, curses, new magical ability, and secrets. So many secrets. There is not a boring page in The Curse of the Brimstone Contract. I hope to be reading another book in the series soon!”

Now I have to go. The mother-in-law is coming in a couple of days, which means..cleaning. Lots of cleaning. 🙂

fools for love retouched

“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.” –As You Like It, William Shakespeare.

SF Romance Station is running a HUGE sci-fi romance reading giveaway throughout the month of April. Check out the prizes below. Each winner will have their choice of a gift card for either Nook, Kindle, All Romance or iBooks, plus they will win great eBooks from participating SF Romance authors. You can see all books below!

Be sure to join the Facebook party, too, for discussions, silliness, and, well, fun. 🙂

But, now, on the theme…this one was hard for me because to me, being foolish, means being stupid. But that’s no so, especially when it comes to relationships.

In so many ways, falling in love is the most foolish act of all.

It takes a leap of faith to believe that the person you love somehow loves you back in equal measure. In a sense, every romance novel character who falls in love is a fool.Shards_of_honor_cover

The first example that jumped to mind isn’t from my own work but from Shards of Honor by Lois McMaster Bujold. Cordelia Naismith and Aral Vorkosigan are on opposite sides in an intergalactic war. Even so, they’ve managed to save each other’s lives. But when Cordelia returns to her home planet, nothing is right. Her superiors believe she’s a hero, the spy agency believes she’s been brainwashed to serve Aral’s people (untrue), and even her mother doesn’t trust her own judgment.

Cordelia flees, wearing casual clothes and with only her slippers on her feet. She goes to Aral, taking a leap of faith that she can be herself among his people.

Undoubtably, the most foolish thing any of my characters have ever done is when Beth kidnaps Alec in Phoenix Rising. Beth sees this smart, powerful, and, most of all, kind, man that she’s come to love being trained by his superiors to became a weapon in a war. She can’t stand it and kidnaps him, having no idea if he’ll listen to her when he wakes up, if he’ll ever trust her again, but she knows whatever the outcome, her own life won’t be the same.

He was born to be a weapon. For her, he must learn to be a hero.

He was born to be a weapon. For her, he must learn to be a hero.

“How would you like to go farther than the clearing?”

Was she asking him to her place?

“That could be good.” He put his arm around her shoulder as they reached the bottom of the hill. The
connection between them was a steady hum. He was close to full arousal and wondered if she was too. But she seemed more distracted than anything else.

Gravel from an old service road crunched under his boots. “How would we get to your place? It’s too far to walk.”

She paused, as if thinking hard about the answer. “A friend left me a car around here,” she said. “At least, I think it’s around here.”

“You’re kidding.”

She leaned against him. He pulled her close. “You want me to go home with you?” He held her out from him, searching her face to see if she’d object. This was better than he hoped.

“In a way. The house where I want to take you belongs to a friend but he lets me use it.” She put her hand on one of the large pine trees, looking around, squinting. She took two steps, and banged her knee into something that made a hollow metallic clunk.

“You okay?” he said. “That was no tree.”

“No, it’s our ride.” She rubbed the knee. “This way, we can leave without anyone following. I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m surprised.” He knelt down to look closer, and dropped her hand. She’d walked into the front fender of a car that was covered by a green tarp.

“Cool camouflage.” He peeled back the tarp. A Honda. He’d been hoping for a sports car. But at least he was leaving with Beth to go to her place, where they could be alone with no watchers.

“Thanks.” She punched in a code on the driver’s side lock.

He got in the car as she pulled the rest of the tarp off. She dropped the tarp in the backseat, sat down behind the wheel, picked up the keys from the driver’s seat and turned over the ignition.

“Wait, how’d you get a car out here?”

“Just lucky, I guess.” She reached down into a side pocket on the door and slipped something into her hand.
His back stiffened. This whole thing was weird. He hadn’t been seduced many times but this suddenly didn’t feel like it should. He grabbed her right hand.

“Counselor? What’s really going on?”

She turned, eyes wide. “I—” Her hand closed over whatever was in her palm. “I work with the CIA on occasion, so I’ve learned to be careful and plan ahead. The car was left here by a friend in case I needed it.”

“Plan ahead for what? Why would you need to hide a car from the Resource? It can’t be just to have sex with me.” He gripped her hand tighter.

“The Resource isn’t as benevolent as you think, especially its director.”

“What exactly are you afraid of?”

She tried to pull her hand free. He tightened his grip. Lansing had warned him the CIA would like to
get hold of him. Maybe that’s what she was doing. And he’d walked right into it because she’d let him put his arm around her shoulder. Daz would never let him hear the end of that one.

“Alec, it’s complicated. It’ll take too long to tell it here, especially given how quick they’ll miss you. As soon as we get where we’re going, I’ll tell you. But I swear, I will not hurt you.”

“Not good enough.” He dug his fingers into her wrist. “Talk to me now, before we go anywhere.”

She tried to pull her hand free. He let her pull him closer to her, intending to pin her to the seat and get some real answers. But she twisted and her left hand came forward. He caught a glimpse of something sharp just before she plunged it into his shoulder. He jerked backward and hit his head on the rearview mirror. He looked down at his shoulder. A syringe was stuck in there, just above his collarbone.

Oh, fuck, another tranq?

“You—” He grabbed the syringe and pulled it out. Blood trickled down his T-shirt. Lethargy started to spread through his arm. Drugged. Again. “Why? I trusted you!”

“I’m sorry. We need to get away from this place. Fast. I won’t hurt you.”

“Yeah, well, this needle doesn’t scream harmless.” He jerked away from her and banged his back against the passenger door. He took a deep breath. Already, his arms and legs felt twice as heavy. He fought to keep his eyes open. “I’m out of here.”

He fumbled for the door lock. Bad enough to have Daz drug him but now he’d been fooled by someone half his size. And Lansing had been right again. He couldn’t trust people from outside.

Alec set his jaw and pushed Beth against the driver’s side door with his TK. She let out a muffled cry of pain. His vision started to go blurry at the edges. Okay, let’s see how she liked a fire show, close-up.

Something shifted inside his head, like a finger scraping against an open wound. He put his hands over his ears to block it out, almost doubling over. What drug did this?

He felt the car lurch into gear as he lost consciousness.

When Alec wakes up, Beth knows she’ll have an angry, possibly uncontrollable firestarter on her hands. One she can’t keep locked up, or she’s no better than the people using him, and one who might turn her into those same people.

It’s a supremely foolish act on her part. But so was falling in love with Alec.

Now onto the PRIZES!

prizes fools

To Enter:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Note: this is a universal entry form, meaning you can only fill it out once, not on every blog in the April even that you’re visiting. 🙂 However, many of my fellow bloggers are giving away prizes on their individual posts as well. Check out not only that but some wise and witty words about science fiction romance.

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The event will last from 12 Noon Eastern Daylight Time until 12 Midnight Eastern Daylight Time USA, which should allow Brigaders around the globe an opportunity to join in.

We hope everyone will want to stay, chat, interact and participate in the event for as long as possible. Some amazing books will be up for grabs.

When the party begins, click on the link!

autistic kids, superhero romance, SF Romance

 

Isn’t it pretty?

Phoenix Inheritance may be the geekiest book I’ve ever written.

It’s definitely the most personal. One, because the heroine is very much a geek, like me, and loves all her geeky attire. But mostly because Renee Black deals with her autistic child on a daily basis, often without help, and I know what that’s like. Without giving away too much of my children’s privacy, I’ve been in her shoes any number of times. For that reason, I’m terrified at the book’s possible reception.

I also know it’s a book I had to write.

As part of the SF Romance Brigade Showcase, here’s the first scene with Renee and my lovely cover, with Daz. The book is already up for pre-order on Amazon and comes out March 3, 2015. And check out the showcase link for other science fiction romance sneak peaks, covers, and other fun news.

Renee Black stored the last of her full gas canisters in the backyard shed. There. That was enough to keep the generator going for days. Even if the early snowfall materialized and knocked out power, she and Charlie would be all set.

The old-fashioned ring tone of her cell phone echoed in the quiet air of her backyard and she tugged the phone out of the pocket of her military-style peacoat.

Please don’t be Charlie’s school, please don’t be Charlie’s school.

It was Charlie’s school. “Hello?” “Ms. Black? This is Principal Partnope.” “Yes? Is something wrong? Is Charlie okay?” “Your son is fine now, Ms. Black, but we really need you to come immediately. How soon can you be here?”

“What happened?” She hated when they did this, told her to come down without telling her exactly why.

“We’ve had an incident. It’s best we discuss this in person. Will you be able to come?”

“I’m already on my way.” She dug out the keys to her pickup from the coat. “Is my son okay?”

“He’s calm and safe now.” Now. Implying he hadn’t been before. Oh, Charlie. How bad had it been this time?

“What happened?” she asked again.

“I’ll explain when you get here. Thank you, Ms. Black.”

He hung up on her. Dammit. The least he could do was give her some hint what had happened instead of making her run fifty million scary scenarios in her head on the way. She whistled for Thor and Loki. Her search-and-rescue-trained German Shepherds came bounding over from the other side of the yard. She knelt down and hugged them, noting the white on their muzzles, which struck her as especially prominent today. They were elderly dogs by regular standards and especially old for SAR dogs, as the work took a toll. Any day they could get outside and romp was a good day for them. She dreaded the coming of winter. They felt the cold so much now.

“I heard you barking at some animal, boys. What did you find?” They didn’t chase squirrels. They knew better. Maybe it was the stray cat Charlie had spotted over the last few days.

“I guess it doesn’t matter. In the house you go!”

She pointed and they headed inside through the open garage and through the doggie door. She pulled her truck out, closed the garage door, and drove down her long, winding driveway at a higher speed than she should have. She’d made this kind of trip far too often lately.

Charlie needed routine and order. He was already on a 504 Plan—special accommodations—because of his diagnosis of autism. She stayed hyper-alert around Charlie because if she spotted the signs of an incoming meltdown, she could head it off. But Charlie’s teacher had a full classroom and couldn’t do the same.

She’d asked the school for full psychological testing that might result in Charlie being classified as special ed and being given an aide who could watch him fulltime at school, like she did at home. Charlie’s teacher, Mr. Lamoreux, was on her side but he kept saying the principal, Partnope, was against it. Partnope had given her an entire litany of excuses as to why they should put off testing.

“He’s not that impaired.” “His grades are very good.” “His behavior chart, full of rewards, will be a big help.”

A big help? It obviously hadn’t helped today.

Every time she convinced herself her son was stabilizing, the school called again. It was one step forward, two steps back.

A text alert blared from her phone. She ignored it while she drove along the twisty corners of the back road. Only when she entered the center of Bernard and stopped at the main traffic light did she glance at the text. It was from the school too, but this time a general message informing parents the school had an early release because of the impending snow.

The light turned and, as she went through the intersection, she noticed the traffic was heavier than usual. Likely everyone was preparing for the storm.

Once she reached the school, finding a parking space was nearly impossible. She finally parked the truck on the grassy divider between the two main lots. The office buzzed her in the front door without even asking for her name. After her many visits over the past two months, the staff knew her by sight. She ran her hand over her hair to smooth it down and unzipped her jacket.

Only then did she realize she was still wearing her Captain Marvel “Princess Sparklefists” superhero T-shirt.
She bet Principal Partnope wouldn’t get the joke. Add that to the old peacoat and her looking ragged because of this morning’s work outside, and she’d earn Partnope’s disdain again. Maybe if she wore designer clothes and shoes like half the women in town instead of her jeans, work boots and her geeky T-shirts, the principal would take her more seriously.

Steeling herself for yet another confrontation, she opened the front door to the school office. Dorothy, the office manager, smiled at her. “Good to see you, Ms. Black.”

Dorothy, impeccable as always in a pretty sweater, seemed glad to see her. “Good to see you too. Where’s Charlie? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, Ms. Black. He’s been asking for you.”

“Thanks.” Not for the first time, Renee wished Dorothy ran the school. Charlie liked her and listened to her. “What happened? Where is he?”

Dorothy pulled a pencil from behind her ear and pointed with it. “He’s in the conference room over there. He promised to draw me a picture of Thor.”

“Great. Did he mean my dog or the superhero?”

“You know, I didn’t ask. But I’d love either.”

Renee turned to the conference room but Principal Partnope came out of his office and intercepted her. “I’d like to talk to you first, before you see Charlie. This was a pretty serious incident.”

“I just want to make sure he’s okay, thanks.” She pushed open the door to the small conference room. Charlie sat there with a supply of crayons and blank paper in front of him. He smiled and ran over to her. She hugged him tight.
She drank in the sight, smell and feel of her son, his dark unruly hair, his brown eyes, his favorite Batman T-shirt and the whiff of peanut butter on his breath. I love you, kid.

Yes, she definitely needed this hug before talking to Partnope. She knelt down to look him in the eye.

“I like your T-shirt,” he said. “Is it new?”

“Just came yesterday. Along with your new Batman Beyond shirt.” “Awesome.” But he stared at the floor instead of at her. He shuffled his feet. “I did something really bad, Mom. But it was their fault. They were mean to me.”

“What did you do?” “I hit Mr. Revis,” he whispered.

“Who’s Mr. Revis?” she asked.

“Our substitute teacher this week.”

“Right.” Mr. Lamoreux was out for several weeks after having broken his leg. “What happened?” she asked.

Charlie waved his hands. “He was really mean. He tricked me!”

Mr. Partnope poked his head into the room. “May we talk now, Ms. Black?”

“All right.” Now that she’d seen Charlie, she could deal with whatever this was. “Charlie, I’ll be right back. Are you finishing that drawing for Miss Dorothy?”

He nodded. “Yes! I promised her I’d finish before school gets out.”

“Good.”

Once in the principal’s office, Partnope sat behind his very official desk. He looked like a bureaucrat with his thinning hair, thin red mustache and conservative tie. She preferred Mr. Lamoreux, who sometimes wore loud ties and shirts that broke the mold.

“Would you please sit down?” Partnope asked.

Renee thought about standing but decided since Charlie admitted he’d hit his teacher, looming over the principal and taking out her frustration with the situation was the worst thing she could do.

“That’s an interesting T-shirt, Ms. Black.” His gaze flicked over the shirt. It featured Carol Danvers, Captain Marvel, in a red, blue and yellow costume with her energy power blazing at her hands. Hence, Princess Sparklefists.

“Thank you, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Interesting.”

“I think so.” She took a deep breath. She wouldn’t rise to the bait. “Why did Charlie hit his teacher? What happened?”

“I’m glad he admitted it. A lot of kids don’t.” Partnope laced his fingers together. “First of all, you should know that we take any assault on a teacher extremely seriously.”

She nodded. “Of course. Was the teacher hurt?”

“No, I don’t believe he was injured at all. Still, we might have to suspend Charlie.” She took a deep breath. She wanted to protest because she was sure Charlie’s impulse control issues had caused him to overreact, but it would be far better to hear this out first. “Could you please tell me what happened?” she asked again.

“Mr. Revis gave the students a surprise quiz today.” He paused. She nodded but what she wanted to do was say that didn’t they know Charlie hated surprises? She’d talked to all the school officials about it, including Partnope. Teachers were supposed to give him advance warning of any quiz. “And Charlie failed this surprise quiz?”

“It wasn’t that kind of quiz,” Partnope said.

He handed over a sheet of paper that started with Read this over fully first, and included all kinds of instructions about drawing shapes and writing sentences. It was busy work but work Charlie knew how to do. It wasn’t until she reached the last sentence that she knew why Charlie thought they’d been mean to him.

“It says at the end that no one has to do any of the problems.”

“Yes. The very first instruction was to read the paper fully and the last instruction is that they don’t have to do any of the work. This is a test we give to make sure students follow instructions and read their papers fully.”

“How many students in third grade read this all the way to the end?”

Partnope’s eyes narrowed. “Only two.”

“And after Charlie did all the work and got to the last sentence and realized he didn’t really have to do any of it, he lost his temper?”

“Exactly.” Partnope nodded. “He rushed to the front of the class, screamed at Mr. Revis for tricking him, kicked him in the leg and ran out of the room.”

Renee rubbed the bridge of her nose. Of course, Charlie would see this as being tricked and react. The whole quiz was a trick. Still, he shouldn’t hit anyone. But his reaction was entirely predictable and could have been avoided by letting him know beforehand.

“What happened after he ran out of the room?” she asked.

It was Partnope’s turn to take a deep breath. He cleaned off his glasses. “Charlie ran out of the school, toward the road.”

“Toward the road?” The elementary school was located on one of the town’s busiest streets.

“He was out the door before anyone could catch him. We did get to him before the road.”

“How did you get Charlie inside?” she asked, hearing the hoarseness in her voice.

“Dorothy called to him. He slowed down. Then she asked him to come back and sit next to her for a while.”

Dorothy. She had no way to repay the woman for this. “And he did?”

“Yes, he listened to her. And then she asked him for a drawing because she knows he likes to draw. Once your son was settled, we called you. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“I understand your concern.” She tucked her hands into her lap, having no idea what to say. She was frustrated at the school for a situation that could have been avoided, worried about Charlie for running outside and just completely sick to her stomach because she had no idea how to stop it from happening again.

As bad as it had been at school so far, she’d thought he was at least physically safe there.

 

Humans have always looked to the stars for inspiration. Once flight became possible, men and women risked their lives to push “higher, further, faster, more,” in the words of Captain Marvel/Carol Danvers, and her current writer, Kelly Sue DeConnick.

The first arc of  DeConnick’s Captain Marvel series was all about the women who were the inspirations for her desire to fly and touch the stars: the female pilots of World War II.

So it seemed appropriate for my post for the “Starry Nights” theme of the annual Science Fiction Romance Brigade Midsummer Blog Hop to focus on those women, real and fictional, who looked at the sky and dreamed big, impossible dreams. Note: if you’re dreaming of some swag, please check out the rafflecopter entry form below. Some seriously good stuff there, including Amazon/B&N gift cards of up to $100.

There were, of course, the early female pioneers of aviation, like Jackie Cochran, Amelia Earhart and Bessie Coleman, the first African-American women to gain a pilot’s license, even if she had to go to France to do it. In a terrific book, Amelia Earhart’s Daughters, the history of the second generation of female flyers is detailed, including many who tried out for the Mercury astronaut program, even though they never really had a chance to be accepted.

And there are my favorite fictional women who dream big, like my Joan Krieger, the heroine of my Curse of the Brimstone Contract, who never liked going in the side door and is so determined to rule her own fate that she’ll end up changing society, rather than let society change her.

Cordelia Naismith of Lois McMaster Bujold’s interstellar Vorkosigan series is one of my favorite characters ever, a force of nature with compassion that knows no bounds.  Cordelia frequently expects those around her to search for solutions that seem impossible.

“You trust beyond reason!”
“Yes. It’s how I get results beyond hope.”

To me, the stars and the sky above represent our dreams, the ones where we hope beyond reason. They represent the heroines of science fiction romance who take a leap of faith in themselves and the person they love and are rewarded with happy endings that are all the more joyful because of that.

And now, the goodies!

As part of the Starry Night Blog Hop, we’re giving away STUFF. MUCH STUFF.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

For my entry, please like my Facebook page and I’ll pick a random winner to receive my first steampunk romantic detective novel, The Curse of the Brimstone Contract (ecopy only) plus Captain Marvel: Volume One: In Pursuit of Flight. (U.S. Shipping only but I can send out a digital edition.)

7/7 NOTE; Winner has been notified.

And click on the Starry Nights button above to go to the other blog hop posts that each have their OWN prizes. 🙂

Note: I’m having trouble with wordpress accepting comments. 🙁 If you’ve tried to log on and enter previously, I apologize. I’ve kept track of two entries sent via the newsletter and we’re switching over to Facebook likes. If that’s a problem, just hit the newsletter button to enter the contest. And thanks for your patience.

Leonard Da Vinci's flying machine, the inspiration for Ceti's aquila

I’ve been remiss about publicity for Eagle of Seneca, absorbed in finishing the GeekMom book. So this is going to be my BSP week for what I’ve been calling my ancient steampunk story. And this scene, the first with Ceti in this book, illustrates why.

*******************
“Ceti, doesn’t what happened to this man worry you?” Gaius pointed to a headless figure resting against the outside wall of the engineer’s workshop. “A person would have been killed.”

“A person would have been able to land the aquila properly,” Ceti said, grinning. He felt like whistling. The last test flight had almost been perfect. He’d strapped the straw man, packed with heavy metal, into the aquila to test the effect of its weight on the flight. His creation had glided in the wind perfectly, even with the added burden of a person.

Well, the replica of a person.

“The wings handled the load just fine. And unlike the straw man, I’ll be able to control the aquila on the way down,” Ceti said.

“He lost his head,” Gaius answered.

“His head was sewn on. Mine better attached.”

**********************

Those who’ve read Dinah of Seneca will recognize Ceti, who’s a bit older and wiser now.