• Fiona McIntosh: Voyager Author of the Month

    Fiona McIntosh was born and raised in Sussex in the UK, but also spent early childhood years in West Africa. She left a PR career in London to travel and settled in Australia in 1980. She has since roamed the world working for her own travel publishing company, which she runs with her husband. She lives in Adelaide with her husband and twin sons. Her website is at www.fionamcintosh.com.

    Her latest book, The Scrivener's Tale, is a stand-alone and takes us back to the world of Morgravia from her very first series, The Quickening:

    About The Scrivener's Tale:

    In the bookshops and cafes of present-day Paris, ex-psychologist Gabe Figaret is trying to put his shattered life back together. When another doctor, Reynard, asks him to help with a delusional female patient, Gabe is reluctant... until he meets her. At first Gabe thinks the woman, Angelina, is merely terrified of Reynard, but he quickly discovers she is not quite what she seems.

    As his relationship with Angelina deepens, Gabe's life in Paris becomes increasingly unstable. He senses a presence watching and following every move he makes, and yet he finds Angelina increasingly irresistible.

    When Angelina tells Gabe he must kill her and flee to a place she calls Morgravia, he is horrified. But then Angelina shows him that the cathedral he has dreamt about since childhood is real and exists in Morgravia.

    A special 10th Anniversary edition of her first fantasy book, Myrren's Gift, will be released in December!



Sneak Peek: Kylie Chan

For those of you at AussieCon4, Kylie Chan will be doing a signing at 6pm at Dymocks Collins Street. If you can’t make it to see her there … here’s something that ought to tide you over: a sneak peek at Heaven to Wudang, Book Three of the Journey to Wudang.

Leo and I sat on the mats across from each other in the Fragrant Lotus training room. His dark face was rigid with concentration as he held the chi on his outstretched hands.
I held one hand on his forearm, watching as the energy flowed through him. ‘Float it to the other hand.’
He lost it and it snapped back, hitting him in the middle of the chest. He bounced backwards but didn’t fall, then he sagged, leaning on the floor. ‘This is so damn hard.’
‘That was a pathetically small amount of chi for anybody to generate, especially an Immortal,’ I said. ‘You ate meat, didn’t you?’
He didn’t reply but his face said it all.
‘Alcohol too?’ I said.
‘Not alcohol,’ he said.

Read on.

Sneak Peek: Shattered City by Tansy Rayner Roberts

If you’re at AussieCon4 now, you can catch Tansy Rayner Roberts reading from Power and Majesty at 3pm. If you’re not, or you have a spare block of time, read this sneak peek of the beginning of Shattered City, Creature Court Book Two.

The Day after the Nones of Felicitas (nefas)
The silk was cool to the touch. It was a magnificent gown: flame-orange, trimmed with soft charcoal-black leaves of silk that tumbled from the Duchessa’s shoulders to her knees. A perfect festival dress for the chief day of sacrifice, the centrepiece of the sacred games which would shortly be taking over the city.
It was the last fitting, and Velody was just managing to make the alterations — a stitch here, a stitch there – without her hand shaking on the needle.
There was no reason to be nervous. Sure, her entire professional career hung in the balance – a word from the Duchessa in the right circles could ruin her – and yet there were so many other things to worry about.
Velody could think of one person at least, if not an entire Court of them, who would laugh at her if they knew how anxious she was about this one every day event. The world was so much bigger and more dangerous than she had ever known, and here she was fretting about the effect of a dropped waistline.
The slender, nineteen-year-old demoiselle who ruled the City of Aufleur gazed at herself in the mirror, lifting the weight of her long blonde hair. ‘Should I bob it?’ she asked idly.
Velody’s own hair was bundled back in the snood. She still refused to have what most demmes these days referred to as ‘the chop’. The very thought of it made her neck cold.
‘The city fathers would implode, my lady,’ she said with a polite smile. ‘But you would look exceptional.’
The Duchessa gave her an impish grin worthy of her age. ‘I would, wouldn’t I?’
The curtains in the room shifted as the door was opened abruptly. ‘Ladies,’ said the Ducomte Ashiol Xandelian d’Aufleur, striding through the room and hurling himself on the nearest
floral sofa. He was dark, dangerously handsome, and held himself as if the city revolved around him.
Velody would not look. He was playing games with her, and she refused to allow him to put her on edge.
The Duchessa sighed dramatically. ‘You will have to forgive the rudeness of my cousin, Mistress Velody. He was raised in the wild.’
‘He does not disturb me, high and brightness,’ said Velody, plucking pins from her mouth and ignoring the deep shiver that went through her flesh at the man’s presence.

Read on

Sneak Peek: Samiha’s Song by Mary Victoria

Mary Victoria is taking part in the Foundlings and Orphans panel at 1pm at AussieCon4. If you can’t make it, you can still catch up with the second book in Mary’s Chronicles of the Tree trilogy, Samiha’s Song, with this sneak peek.

‘Kill the witch!’
The crowd waited for her. She could hear its faraway voice, a hundred mouths speaking as one. The sound echoed surprisingly loudly over the city though the docks were some distance away. It faded as the breeze changed direction. The young woman listened a moment. She sat on a stool in a tiny, windowless room, at a table littered with scraps of paper. The candle by her elbow provided the only light. A draught caught the flame, causing it to gutter. Carefully she shielded it with her hand until it grew bright. Then she turned her attention to the paper, dipped a pen in an inkwell and wrote.
I used to know who I was. I was the twelfth Kion, the Chained One, the last Nurian sovereign before the End Times. My fate had been foretold by Grafters down the ages. I would be captured by my enemies and put to death. After my passing, the old world would be consumed and a new one grow up out of the ashes…

Read on

Browse Inside Tymon’s Flight, Chronicles of the Tree Book One.

Thursday at AussieCon4

Your Voyager liaison arrived in the afternoon, couldn’t check in at the Hilton till 3pm (how expensive is their wireless internet by the way!) and then dashed off to register, accompanied by the very lovely @BothersomeWords. As we lingered in the foyer we spotted a well known and bearded man (not an easy task among AussieCon goers!). Yes. It was George R R Martin. Your correspondent dithered around and said things like ‘OMG’ and ‘GASP’. We filed in for the opening ceremony, and sat one seat away from the GRRM. At the end of the ceremony, your correspondent turned to GRRM and said ‘Excuse me, are you George R R Martin?’ Okay, so I just couldn’t think of any other way as a prelude to ‘OMG I AM YOUR BIGGEST FAN oh yeah and I work in your publishing house btw.’. George is one of the loveliest fantasy authors I have ever met. He’s down to earth (in a fantasy author way) and chatted about how he had a 25-year run of cons, then burned that when WorldCon was in Japan (he regrets not going). He also said that at his first cons, budgets dictated that you crashed in someone’s room wherever possible and ate at McDonalds. But times have changed now (for George) :-). All I can say is, if you see Mr Martin wandering around the con, DO go up and say hi. He likes his fans and he is LOVELY.

Sneak Peek: Sara Douglass

Not at AussieCon4? Don’t worry, we’ve got something nice to take your mind of it … a whole series of somethings in fact … here’s the first: a sneak peek at Sara Douglass’s new book The Devil’s Diadem.

Maeb Langtofte That Was, Her Testimony

In the name of our Saviour, the heavenly Lord Jesu, and of his beloved mother, the blessed Virgin Mary, greetings. Pray hear this testimony from your humble servant, Maeb Langtofte that was, on the eve of her dying. May sweet Jesu and his Holy Mother forgive my sins, and let me pass in peace, and forgive me the manner of my passing.
My faithful servant and priest Owain of Crickhoel writes down these words and in some places will speak for me when I no longer have the breath. Brother Owain has taken my confession and offered me Godly advice these past thirty years. He has been a good and faithful friend to me and I pray that his reward in the next life will reflect this.

Read on