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~ Author of Tales From Undersea

Wood the Writer

Tag Archives: dieselpunk

City of Devils- Sneak Peek

06 Wednesday Jul 2022

Posted by Jessica Wood in Blog, book exerpt, steampunk, writing

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dieselpunk, dieselpunk book, steampunk, steampunk book

The second Tales From the Skies book, City of Devils, is coming August 28th and is available for pre-order for only 99 cents. In the meantime, here’s an exclusive sneak peek of the first chapter:

 

Rory Sullivan couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw his lover, even after almost a year of dating. Today Lacey wore a green flapper dress with silver embellishments dangling around her knees. It was surprisingly tame for her – she preferred to be more flashy – but their dates weren’t a time for her to draw attention. That was why Rory was dressed in a plain shirt and trousers. The only preparation he’d made for this date was combing his hair. It was the same outfit he’d be wearing to work later tonight, but he tried not to think about that just yet.

She saw him, smiled, and waved, the blonde curls in her wig bobbing as she jogged towards him. Several of the surrounding cinema goers saw her and stared in awe, for Lacey was popular throughout all of Over York. If they’d undressed her, like Rory had so many times over the last year, they’d mistakenly think her body made her a man all the time.

“Hey,” he said when she reached his side, taking her hand and kissing her. “You look lovely.”

“So do you. As always,” Lacey replied, sharing his smile. Rory’s own smiles had been more frequent over the past year. “I wanted to wear a suit today.”

Rory couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt at those words. For the sake of appearances, Colin always had to attend their dates dressed as his female persona, Lacey, whether he felt like being her or not. Two men holding hands would draw too much suspicion, and neither of them could risk it, especially in their professions. It was better when they were on their own and he could be whoever he wanted. But they didn’t want to only see each other in their apartments or in the hidden portions of the sky city. They wanted to see each other in the daylight, too. Or in the street lighting of Over York’s indoor areas, as they were now.

“I got our tickets,” Rory said, holding up two stubs for Bonnie the Pirate Queen, glancing at the film poster bearing the likeness of an actress dressed in pirate regalia. “I knew you’d be late, and I didn’t want to be stuck with crummy seats like when we saw Wizard Boy.”

“Luckily for me, you’re the organised one,” Colin said, slipping an arm through his as they entered the Kekoa Theatre, a favourite spot for their dates.

The staff behind the concession booth nodded to them, even as they hustled around fetching popcorn and sodas for the Friday night crowd. The two of them were well-known there, since Colin was practically the owner.

“You want something?” Rory asked, nodding to the booth. They could get anything they wanted for free.

“I shouldn’t. I’ve got work later. I don’t want a sugar crash putting me to sleep.”

“In that case, I shouldn’t, either,” Rory said, heading instead to the curtain-covered doorway leading to the auditorium.

They smiled at the woman standing there, another familiar face. “Evening, Fahma,” Colin said as they handed over their tickets. “Any trouble today?”

“Only a few kids throwing popcorn off the balcony. Threatened to tell their big brothers on me, as usual,” the woman said as she checked their tickets from underneath her hijab, pulling the curtain towards her. “Enjoy the show,” she added, nodding at Rory.

He nodded back, glad she didn’t refer to him by his proper title of ‘Detective’. It was too risky to reveal inside of a mob establishment.

Inside the theatre screen, they squeezed through the aisle to find their seats, near the back so they could be as affectionate as they wanted.

“You think this film is about the real Pirate Queen?” Colin asked as they flipped the seats down. “Or the guy who took over from her?”

“No idea,” Rory replied. “Maybe it’s about how she lost the Undersea Civil War. I’m kind of behind on Undersea history.”

“Really? Queen Bonnie was Irish, like you,” Colin said, adoringly stroking Rory’s flaming red hair.

“She was Scottish.”

“Same thing, right?”

“You’re lucky my dad isn’t around to hear you say that,” Rory said, giving him a tender squeeze. He endured only a small tinge of sadness. He wasn’t as concerned now at casually mentioning his father. It didn’t matter to him anymore that Colin’s mob boss father had killed his own. They were long past that.

“The only history I remember from school is the Romans. Probably because of the togas. Then there’s everything Johnny tells me about Russia. He really thinks he’s some lost prince or something.”

“I doubt anyone could’ve survived the Romanov execution.”

“I find it best to let him have his delusion. At least it gives him a backstory. Oh, it’s starting.”

The whole theatre shushed as the auditorium darkened, Fahma shut the curtain and the outside door, and the screen lit up. Upbeat music opened the newsreel, which made half the audience groan.

“If I wanted to be depressed, I would’ve gone to see a play,” Colin uttered.

“It’s important to stay informed about current events,” Rory said, his arm around his lover as they leaned into each other.

“You know this is only what the mayor wants us to see.”

“I know,” Rory said with a sigh as the news reel started.

“1929 is already setting up to be the most prosperous year in Over York City’s history,” the announcer said over footage of the mayor cutting the ribbon for yet another shopping centre, her bored-looking husband and children lingering behind her.

Rory tensed at the sight. He felt Colin do the same next to him. Neither of them held any positive opinions on the woman, and with fair reason. She had almost sentenced Colin and his colleagues to death last year, and attacked an entire crowd at the same time.

The rest of the audience recalled the incident too, as they yelled ‘Boo!’, threw things at the screen, and demanded the film start.

“Thanks to Mayoress Smith’s tough stance, indecency and crime in the city are at an all-time low,” the narrator continued.

“This guy doesn’t know a damn thing,” Colin intoned.

“He’s reading off a script. It’s not his fault,” Rory replied.

“With her help, gang activity such as last year’s Central Park Massacre will be a thing of the past,” the narrator said over footage of Mayoress Smith standing on a stage with a sharp piece of metal held to her neck. The person holding the blade was Colin.

He shuffled down in his seat slightly, glancing around, even though nobody here would recognise him in drag unless they already knew him. Both he and Rory knew that wasn’t how the incident in Central Park had happened. Colin had held that broken piece of a metal bird’s wing to the mayor’s throat as it had been the only way to force her to call off the birds which were attacking people. They had been doing so under her orders. In fact, the entire event had started as a public execution for Colin and his speakeasy colleagues. It had only been thanks to Rory’s intervention and Colin’s quick thinking that they’d escaped death. But other people in the park hadn’t been as lucky, Rory remembered with a shudder.

“In entertainment news, Bernadette Silver returns to Over York for a press tour of her latest box office hit, Bonnie the Pirate Queen,” the narrator said, the screen showing footage of the actress they’d just seen on the film poster outside, signing autographs amidst a cheering crowd. “It’s hard to believe this superstar actress is one of our city’s own, from the humble district of Chelsea.”

“Speaking of actresses, how’s Kalaya doing?” Colin asked.

“In her last letter she said she’s doing fine. Still working at that coffee shop,” Rory replied, his throat closing a little.

His childhood friend Kalaya had left the city on the same day he and Colin had officially begun their relationship. She’d moved to the filmmaking capital of Lumière to achieve her dream of becoming an actress. In all her letters she sounded optimistic, but still didn’t give news of landing any roles.

“We should be seeing her on this screen. Not this rich girl who had her daddy buy her way into Lumière,” Colin grumbled, shuffling in his seat.

“These things take time. I’m sure we’ll see her up there soon,” Rory said, more to convince himself.

“I don’t know why she doesn’t just talk to my aunt. She knows people in the business and could get her in the door easily.”

“She wants to do this on her own.”

“Yeah, but in Lumière it’s all about who you know. That’s the only reason Bernadette Silver is famous,” Colin said as the last few bars of the Empire’s Anthem played and the newsreel ended. “Finally. I’ve been waiting all week to see this,” he said, shifting slightly off Rory to look closer.

But the film didn’t start straight away. Instead, a wall of text appeared on the screen.

 

The following motion picture has been approved by The Smith Code to be free of moral indecency, unlawful activities, incorrect standards of life, or dangerous lifestyles.

Long live the King.

 

“The Smith Code?” Colin asked, glancing at Rory with a frown. “This has to be the mayor’s doing.”

“Smith is a common name.”

“It has to be her. What is she up to now?” Colin said with a sigh, slumping in his seat as the film started.

 

Both of them had been excited to watch a film about Undersea Pirates, but this was highly different from what they’d been expecting. The famous Pirate Queen, Bonnie Read, switched to the Empire’s side, while the man who took over as Pirate King was gunned down after a lengthy speech about the evils of debauchery.

“I’m no expert, but wasn’t that Pirate King guy Middle Eastern or something?” Colin whispered to him.

“I think so,” Rory replied quietly. Even on a black and white screen he could make out the actor’s pale skin and bright hair.

“I’m pretty sure he was married to a man, too.”

The crowd shuffled, shouted obscenities, and loudly pointed out historical inaccuracies, and Rory couldn’t help but side with them.

When Bonnie finally said ‘I’ll never drink again’, the first audience member said “Fuck this!”, rose from his seat, and stormed out the theatre. Many followed, some throwing their snacks at the screen as they went.

“I hope that doesn’t leave any stains on the carpet.” Colin sighed as he slumped deeper into Rory’s side.

 

“Too bad this date night was a flop,” Rory said, taking Colin’s hand as they returned to the artificial lamplights, the next round of cinemagoers lined up. He wished he could warn them of the disappointment they were in for. No doubt a few first dates were going to go horribly.

“At least it will be good for business. With nobody going to the cinema, they’ll be scrambling to get into our place. And the mayor’s plans with this Smith Code thing won’t work. She’ll be-” Colin stopped himself, glimpsing at Rory then away. “Sorry…”

They’d made an agreement early on not to bring their jobs into their relationship, but sometimes they slipped up. Many times, Rory wanted to comfort Colin over his work troubles, or wanted to vent to him, but knew they couldn’t.

“It’s ok,” he said with a smile. It hadn’t been too bad, really. “I have to get to work, anyway.”

“Me too,” Colin said, squeezing Rory’s hand tighter. “I wish we could stay out later.”

“I know, but duty calls.”

“Fucking duty,” Colin said, even as he leant in and kissed Rory. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I have Tuesday night off. Want to meet up then?”

“The usual place?”

“It’s a date,” Rory said, giving his lover one final kiss before they left down different paths. Rory took the elevator to the higher Uptown ring and Colin to the ladder leading Downtown and to the lower portions of the city where Over York’s criminal underworld operated.

 

“I don’t understand why they always choose the filthiest places,” Commissioner Serafim griped, turning his nose up at the ramshackle building before them.

It was just as run-down as any other building in Rum Row, the city’s main docking platform on the outer ring, jutting out from the main bulk of the flying city. Dozens of non-descriptive buildings like this one lined the docks between the airships and pegasus carriages. Rory knew at least half of them contained contraband goods.

The only real appeal of this part of the city was it was the only place where you only had to crane your neck up and you could see all rings of the city at once; Downtown nestled in the inner portion, Midtown and Uptown above those and mostly out in the open, and the Central Park ring around those, full of greenery. Even after living in Over York his entire life, standing there and looking upon it reminded him how huge the city really was, and how small he was.

“Maybe they choose the worst ones so nobody will bother going in? To avoid suspicion?” Rory said next to him. He understood the gang’s tactics. This wasn’t even their sneakiest. They had tricks Serafim wouldn’t ever guess.

“I can see why. It’s working. Let’s get this over with quickly so we can get back home and have a drink to warm up,” Serafim said, indicating the heavily armed officers behind them to prepare.

“With me, men,” Rory ordered with his most authoritative voice. He nodded at Serafim, both their guns drawn, and at the same moment they kicked down the door. “Police! This is a raid!”

“Shit, how do they always know?” one of the smugglers said.

Rory didn’t reveal to anyone he knew the man’s name was Gino and he was the second-in-command of this group of criminals, known as the Flying Squad. He was midway through stacking a barrel. From the smell alone, it clearly contained alcohol. And alcohol was illegal throughout the entire British Empire. The Flying Squad used their airship, the Thunder Child, to transport it into the city.

“It’s because you always leave your cigarette butts lying around for them to find!” the group’s leader said. Rory knew her name was Rosalie, for she was Colin’s sister and a good friend of his. He also knew to avoid her during a scuffle if he wanted to keep all his bones intact.

His eyes drifted past her to the man by her side. He recognised the same lips he’d kissed only a few hours before. The same hands he’d held, now covered by thick work gloves instead of dainty lace. He was dressed in a smart suit now, but to Rory he was unmistakable as his lover, Colin Gilbert.

Colin darted to the side, even knowing Rory was faster.

The other officers moved to help, but a swift kick of Rosalie’s boots knocked over the stack of sealed barrels. They rolled towards the officers, sending them sprinting and screaming in all directions like panicked chickens.

The few who had escaped the rogue barrels brandished their guns against the lawbreaker’s weapons, resembling the standoff in the film Rory had just watched. It was difficult to say who was stronger – well trained police officers or gang members with nothing to lose. Sometimes Rory worried that someday they would destroy each other.

He pushed that thought from his mind as he dashed forward, grabbed Colin, and pinned him to the ground as gently as he could. Colin ogled him with a smile which could have been mistaken for pleasure.

“Don’t try anything,” Rory hissed.

He didn’t want him to play around again. He didn’t want to give away any hints that they were a couple. Rosalie and the rest of the Flying Squad knew, of course, but he couldn’t risk Serafim or anyone on the force finding out.

“Nice work, Rory,” Serafim said, pacing towards him.

“Don’t come any closer. They’re dangerous,” Rory tried to warn him.

In that brief moment, Colin pushed him off and scrambled free. Rory hadn’t even given him wriggle room to break free. He always managed it on his own. He admired his lover so much for that.

“Rotten ne’er do wells!” Serafim said.

“You think that’s going to offend us?” Rosalie countered.

Rory noticed one woman – the Thunder Child’s boatswain, Chalise Peel – ducked behind one of the labelled barrels, using it as a shield. It wasn’t going to be enough. Rory pointed his gun towards the barrel-shield. He could fire through it easily.

“Not that!” Serafim cried out.

“What?” Rory asked, gawking at him.

The commissioner’s eyes widened as he reached out a hand to stop him.

In that brief moment, Chalise dashed out from her cover. Rory ignored Serafim to rush forward and grab her by the wrist, wrestling her to the ground. It was much more difficult than it had been with Colin because she was stronger and more ferocious.

He just about caught the flash of pride in Colin’s eyes before it was replaced by rage. “Let’s get out of here,” he ordered his subordinates.

“But the goods-” Gino argued, glimpsing at the barrels scattered throughout the warehouse. A few were leaking bitter-smelling alcohol, puddling around the officer’s feet. Others were lying on top of the officers who struggled to free themselves.

“Forget the goods. I don’t want my nose broken,” Colin said, dragging him away. It was a smart decision. He may be reckless, but at least Colin knew when to keep his people safe.

“Follow them,” Serafim said, taking the handcuffed woman from Rory, even as she growled and spat at him. “I’ll take care of this one.”

“And the alcohol?” Rory asked. He didn’t want to risk the outlaws coming back for the barrels whilst they were busy chasing after them. It had happened once before, and Serafim had been furious.

“I’ll handle that, too. You go.”

Rory nodded before he tore out of the warehouse after his lover.

 

“That bastard nearly broke my nose,” Chalise mumbled.

“You knew what you were getting into when you chose this profession,” Serafim said, pulling her roughly to her feet.

“I didn’t choose it. My parents were in debt.”

“Stop complaining. Do you have it?”

“Left pocket,” the lawbreaker said, turning her body slightly so Serafim could easily reach in and take the envelope she had stashed there.

He checked it briefly, finding the white, glossy feathers within. He shivered. It was enough to buy a new automaton-drawn carriage or a deposit on a house Uptown.

“Only two nights in the cell for you this time, I think,” he said, leading the racketeer out.

“You only gave Gino one night last time,” Chalise hissed.

“I’m compensating for other crimes you’ve no doubt committed that I don’t know about,” Serafim said as he shoved her out the building towards the waiting police van. “Or do you want your bosses to find out about our transactions?”

The thug had the sense to stay silent. It was a shame, for he would have liked more to charge her with.

 

Rory couldn’t help but admire Colin’s form as he charged through the docks. Colin knew that, and teased him accordingly. The mobster also knew that Rory was faster, but didn’t have as much stamina. If he could only keep ahead of him, he could outrun the cop eventually. And he knew Rum Row far better than Rory.

He leapt over a ledge, landing in an airship’s raft, scrambling out before Rory could even realise what he’d done.

“Don’t be too reckless,” he called.

“You know I never would,” Colin said with a flirtatious tone as he ran, Rory scrambling over the railing after him.

Just when it seemed he would lose him, Colin abruptly stopped and turned around. Rory was barrelling with such speed he crashed into him, both of them nearly falling over the city’s edge into the sea far below if Colin hadn’t held him up.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Colin purred into his ear as he grabbed his wrists. Rory didn’t know whether to kick him in the shin or kiss him.

Colin raised his wrists and twisted them both around as if they were dancing. Rory broke free of his lover’s grasp and caught the perturbed look on his face. It was so adorable. In any other circumstances, Rory would have kissed him.

The horn of an incoming airship interrupted them, making them both clasp their hands over their ears. Was it another shipment of alcohol? No, looking up, Rory saw it was a cruise ship, returning from somewhere hot where the rich folk liked to escape whenever the city circled colder climates.

When Rory sighted him again, Colin already had a leg up on the railing. His heart leapt for a second and he almost ran forward to grab him.

“See you on Tuesday, dear,” Colin said before pulling a string hidden in his sleeve, releasing metal wings from his back, leaping, and floating away. He hadn’t been wearing those in the cinema. Rory would have felt them as he’d been cuddled close. Colin always found new ways of escaping which surprised Rory every time.

“See you then,” Rory said, waving with a sigh as he watched his beloved escape into the moonlit sky. He really did love that man. But he was also so irritating he could strangle him.

TALES FROM UNDERSEA: THE COMPLETE SERIES is the summer read you need!

03 Sunday Jul 2022

Posted by Jessica Wood in author, Blog, book launch, sale, self publishing, steampunk

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dieselpunk, dieselpunk book, ebook sale, steampunk, steampunk book

Tales From Undersea books 1-3 is now available as a box set! In addition to all 3 books, this set also contains 3 exclusive bonus shorts, including the original deleted prologue. It’s a perfect beach read and I hope you all enjoy!

Show me!

If you want to read the sequel series (set in the same universe but in a different time period and with a new cast of characters), the first book in the Tales From the Skies series, Sky’s Edge, is only 99 cents, but only until July 4th.

Get it now!

The second part in the series, City of Devils, is available for pre-order, also for 99 cents. It will be regular price after release, so this is the perfect chance to get the book for a discount.

Pre-order now!

City of Devils Cover and Blurb Reveal + Writing Update

15 Wednesday Jun 2022

Posted by Jessica Wood in author, Blog, blurb, cover reveal, indie, self publishing

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blurb reveal, cover reveal, dieselpunk, fantasy, steampunk, writing, ya fantasy

In Over York City, everyone can party like it’s 1929.

Detective Rory Sullivan is happy in his relationship with Colin Gilbert, the son of the Don, even if they have to keep it a secret. He rids the sky city of crime by day and spends time with his lover in the illegal, magically-hidden speakeasy by night.

But with both the police and the mafia at each other’s throats and poisoned alcohol circulating the speakeasies, more than their relationship could be in danger. The only people in the city they can trust is each other, but even that comes at a price. Rory might be forced to become a criminal to protect the people he loves.

Can Rory and Colin’s love survive in a city steeped in corruption, mechanical monsters, and crooked cops?

Peaky Blinders meets Firefly in this exciting dieselpunk series.

Pre-order now for 99 cents.

As you can see, the follow up to Sky’s Edge is almost ready. I only have proofreading and formatting to go until its ready. The release date is still set for August 28th, although I’ve set up the pre-order until then.

I’m also on the second draft on the third book on the series, titled Fall From the Sky. Without giving away too many spoilers, this one focuses on an art heist and musical theatre, because art and musicals happen to be two things I especially love.

In between these books, I’m also working on a new YA fantasy series titled Children of the Jaguar Empire, which will be based upon various world mythology including Aztec and Egyptian. I don’t have a lot else to reveal about this series just yet, but keep checking back for updates.

You can also join the steampunk newsletter for regular updates on the Sea and Skies series.

One week to go

25 Monday Apr 2022

Posted by Jessica Wood in Blog, books, self publishing

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blurb reveal, dieselpunk, mm romance, new book, pre-order, steampunk book

Ok, technically six days, but what does it matter? Sky’s Edge is out on May 1st! It is already available for pre-order at only 99 cents. The regular price will be $3.99.

It’s never easy to kill a man. Especially one you’re falling in love with.

Over York City, 1928.

Alcohol is banned throughout the Empire, including the sky cities. But that doesn’t mean you can’t find any, so long as you know where to look.

When police detective Rory Sullivan is assigned to go undercover to the Sky’s Edge speakeasy, he takes the job willingly. He’s been out for revenge on the Hell’s Alley Gang, who run the illegal and magically-hidden establishment, ever since they killed his father. But Rory doesn’t expect to meet the charming and beautiful drag queen, Lacey Liscious. He is even more surprised to discover she is actually Colin Gilbert – the son of the Don and one of the mob’s most deadly hitmen. As Rory closes in to enact his revenge, the Don also tasks Colin with killing the detective and tossing his body over the city’s edge.

But the more time Rory and Colin spend together as friends, the closer they become. And the more Rory spends in the hidden, underground sections of Over York, the more he realises the mob may not be the villains he believed. How can Rory and Colin kill each other when they’re also falling in love? And how can they keep their newfound relationship a secret?

Pre-order now. Or join the Sea and Skies newsletter for more deals, new releases, and free stories.

 

Undersea is back in Sky’s Edge

08 Tuesday Mar 2022

Posted by Jessica Wood in author, Blog, book exerpt, indie, self publishing, steampunk, writing

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dieselpunk, steampunk, steampunk book

Ok, when I say Undersea is back, I mean I’m actually releasing a new series set in the same universe, only in a sky city. I’ve already received raving feedback from beta readers and I’m excited to share it with all of you. Here’s a preview of chapter one (note- you don’t need to have read the Tales From Undersea trilogy before this one, as it focuses on a new set of characters):

Chapter One – Under the City

Over York City, 1928

 

Rory Sullivan gripped the sleeve of his pin-striped suit as he eyed the building. It wasn’t much different than any other building in Over York’s Downtown ring; peeling butter-yellow paint, tall windows, and a slightly sloped black roof. When he read the words ‘Hel’s Alley Shool of Laguag’ (several letters from the sign were missing), he knew he was in the right place, but he still sweated through his suit. He hovered on the opposite pavement, considering turning and returning home. But he still crossed the street once the tram to Harlem passed. He opened the door, the handle warm to the touch. 

The interior was underwhelming; nothing more than a small foyer with a few rickety chairs, yellowed posters advertising classes which had ended months ago, and a young man slumped over a desk. His piercing blue eyes bore into Rory as he took the final few steps into the building, the door closing on the outside world. 

“I’m here for the… the Finnish course,” Rory stammered, unsure if he should look the man in the eye. 

“The full course or the try-out?” the receptionist droned automatically with a hint of an accent Rory couldn’t quite place. He was attractive enough to be a prince and seemed he wished to be anywhere else.

“Just the try-out for today,” Rory said, nearly swallowing his own tongue.

“Four feathers.” He took the gleaming silver feathers Rory offered then leant over, turned the handle of the interior door next to him, and pushed it open. “Enjoy your class.”

“Thank you,” Rory said, not mentioning he could’ve easily opened the door himself. 

The receptionist slammed the door shut behind him. Rory was left alone in a dimly lit hallway, the walls and floor humming and vibrating slightly from the machines deep within Over York’s lower portion, which kept the sky city aloft and moving. He descended the stairs, unable to see the bottom in the gloom. This might be the deepest into the city he’d ever been. Already he was considering turning around and asking for his feathers back. The man at the desk seemed so bored he was probably eager for an argument, just for something to do. But that would probably mean he wouldn’t get his feathers back and this would be a wasted trip. Each step felt colder and further away from safety.

He reached the end of the staircase and saw only a single hallway before him. This one had a woman a few years older than him at the end, standing before yet another door. She smiled at him as he neared her. He could see now how her hijab lined her face and the bulge of her long shirt-dress concealed the points of weapons.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m not sure I’m in the right place,” he fumbled for words.

“Oh, you’re in the right place,” the woman said, her smile widening as she pushed the door open without having to as much as flash her eyes at it. 

Light and noise flooded Rory’s senses. He almost had to squint.

“Enjoy your stay,” the woman said as Rory stepped over the threshold. 

He didn’t want to go back anymore. He already knew he wanted to stay here.

A neon sign flashed the business’s real name – The Sky’s Edge. People seemingly from every corner of the world mingled throughout the room, chatting, flirting, or sat at tables in small groups. Already Rory received smiles from smartly dressed men and women in short dresses unseen in the cold of the city streets. The central focus of the room was the long bar where several patrons crowded around downing alcohol.

Highly illegal alcohol.

Speakeasies such as this had been rife throughout Over York ever since prohibition had become law throughout the British Empire eight years ago. Rory had never had the nerve to step into one during all that time, until today. He’d never even had a sip of alcohol in all twenty six years of his life. Unless Holy Communion counted, but he hadn’t been able to set foot in a church for years, either.

Rory dismissed the bar, for alcohol wasn’t the reason he was there. His attention was drawn in the same direction as everyone else’s once the stage curtains opened and the band started a new song. Rory squeezed through the crowd to find an empty seat near the front of the stage. He’d heard rumours about this and had to see for himself.

The curtains opened fully and the crowd applauded the dancer girls in scantily clad costumes lining the back of the T-shaped stage. But they were only the background dressing. The real draw was the figure in front.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said in a voice both soothing and with a hint of fire. “How are we all this fine evening?”

He received a few cheers and encouragement to start. Rory stayed silent as he took the man in; His ebony black curls, shimmering gold dress ending at just the right spot to reveal his long legs, a pink feather boat, and high heels.

How does he walk on those? Rory pondered. 

“I’m Lacey Licious,” the drag queen continued, “and you’re in for an incredible show this evening. Let’s start things off with one of my favourites, A Member of the Midnight Crew.” He gave a silent signal to the pianist and began the song.

“I hate a moral coward, one who lacks a manly spark. I just detest a man afraid to go home in the dark,” he began. His singing voice was even more soothing than his speaking voice, velvet and flame all in one. The dancer girls pranced around him, shaking feathers to hide then reveal him over and over to hoots from the crowd.

“The fun it doesn’t stop ’til twelve on happy old Broadway. So what’s the use of going home, until the break of day?” he launched into the second verse, shimmying down the central part of the stage. As he went, he gave special attention, winks, and even scraping the hands of the patrons clamouring to the front. Rory began to sweat further, hoping it wouldn’t be seen in the dim lighting. Would Lacey Licious catch his eye? That was why he’d seated himself at the front of the stage. But now a lump formed in his throat as the drag queen sauntered towards him in a wave feathers and sequins. He was even more dazzling up close. No doubt half the people in this room were already madly in love with him.

Lacey’s eyes finally fell on Rory and his breathing almost stopped. So did Lacey’s. 

“Bring your wife and trouble, it will ne… never…” the singer’s voice faltered for a second as he took Rory in, almost as if he recognised him. But that was impossible. 

“Make her a member of the midnight crew!” she continued as if the lapse had never happened.

As he began the next verse, he danced towards Rory, placing a soft, manicured hand over his. Their eyes were so close, Rory could see the flecks of gold in Lacey’s. He didn’t know how but they matched the exact shade of gold on his dress, and even his nail polish. Everything about this man was golden, especially his smile. The smile loitered on Rory as he sang the song’s final few notes. 

“Bring your wife and trouble, it will never trouble you. Make her a member of the Midnight Crew.”

He drew back, bowing and saying “Thank you” over and over as the crowd cheered. “I’m going to take a short break and hand things over to our wonderful singer, Miss Freya Holmlund!”

A new wave of applause started as a blonde woman took Lacey’s place on the stage. The next song began and the dancers launched into their next routine around Freya as Lacey stepped expertly off the stage, not even tottering on his heels. Everybody within range scrambled to get closer as he headed towards the bar, eager to buy him a drink. Rory was up like a shot, shoving through the crowd. It was rude, but he had to get there first.

“Miss Licious?” he asked, touching the queen’s shoulder, soft and moisturised.

“Yes?” Lacey asked, turning and flipping his hair (which Rory now saw was a wig) elegantly. He could make even the simplest of movements glamorous.

“I mean… Mr… Lacey… I’m sorry, it’s my first time here…” He blushed, chastising himself for being so foolish in front of this man.

“First times are the best,” Lacey said with a chuckle, placing a hand on Rory’s chest, as if he intended to stop his heart. “And just Lacey is fine. No ‘Miss’ needed.”

“Lacey,” Rory repeated, as if speaking the name of a goddess. “You probably get asked this a lot, but can I buy you a drink?”

“I do get that a lot, but I do like to drink. What’s your poison?”

“Oh… uh, I don’t actually…” Rory paused, taking a moment to realise Lacey was referring to the bar.

“Been a while since you had a drink, hasn’t it?”

“Actually… I’ve never had alcohol. I had only turned eighteen when prohibition started,” Rory said, leaning in close so Lacey could hear him over the noise of the band, which had just started a louder jazz number.

“Oh, that must have been horrible. But still, that’s why places like this exist,” Lacey said, seating himself (no, herself, Rory remembered) at the bar as if she owned it and leaning towards the barman. “Two cloudy kisses, Kenneth.”

“Give me a minute, Lace. I’m swamped with orders here,” the barman grumbled, pouring four bottles of beer into a dirty bucket and shoving it towards a patron.

“I asked for four beers, not a cocktail,” the customer complained.

“You asked for four beers and that’s what I gave you. What more do you want?” Kenneth griped, turning away from the man and pouring some wine into a martini glass.

Lacey couldn’t hide her grimace. Rory chuckled. It was somehow even better than her stage act.

They finally received their drinks, missing the white mist which would have made them cloudy kisses. But that didn’t matter to Rory. This was his first ever real taste of alcohol. His heart raced as he stared at the blue liquid.

“Don’t worry, it won’t kill you,” Lacey said. “It tastes weird at first, but you get used to it.”

“Down the hole. Or however the saying goes,” Rory said, raising his glass to clink against hers. He brought the glass to his mouth at the same moment as she did to hers, letting the alcohol pass his lips. He gagged on the bitter taste.

“What did I tell you?” Lacey said with a smile. But not a mocking smile.

“That was… Oh God…” Rory coughed, wishing he had something to take the taste away. His heart raced further. That was his first taste of alcohol. 

Now he was a criminal, just like everybody else in this speakeasy.

“Regardless, It’s always nice to have such a handsome gentleman buy me a drink,” Lacey said, running a manicured finger over the rim of her glass, avoiding the pre-existing lipstick stains.

“You’re the handsome one. I mean, beautiful,” Rory said, wishing he could hide in his own glass.

“No, I mean it. That red hair could be used as a warning light.”

“I got it from my father. He’s dead,” Rory said, then immediately wondered why. He didn’t like talking about his father at the best of times. The familiar wave of grief washed over him. Why had he just spilled that out to a complete stranger?

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lacey said, forgetting for a moment to speak in a falsetto. “My mum left when I was just a nipper. All I get from her now is a postcard at Christmas. Still, at least you inherited something good from your father. Ugh, these are terrible,” she said, placing her drink on the bar. 

Rory did the same, gratefully. He’d been too afraid to spit out the drink in front of Lacey.

“I apologise on behalf of my bartender. He’s the worst I’ve ever had,” Lacey continued.

“You know I can hear you right, you big fairy?” Kenneth grumbled.

“I’m well aware, Kenneth,” Lacey said even louder.

Rory couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you own this place?”

“Technically it’s a family business, but I do manage it. As best as I can.”

“It is wonderful,” Rory said, looking around, watching the dancers and listening to the band. “You don’t find places like this anywhere else in Over York.”

“Oh, there are places like this all over. We’re just well hidden.”

“It’s no wonder the man at the desk was so grouchy, stuck up there when he could be down here.”

“That’s Johnny. We stick him up there to keep him out of trouble. And he doesn’t exactly have any talents worthy of the stage.”

“Unlike you.”

“I do this mostly as a hobby. But it keeps the punters happy. Don’t tell anyone but I’m a far better performer than a business manager.”

“Your secrets are safe with me.”

“Lace, it’s time,” the pianist called to her, jabbing a thumb at the stage where Freya was just ending her song, bowing to the crowd and accepting the flowers they offered.

“Crap, I almost forgot,” Lacey said, then realised what she’d said and stood up straighter. “Sorry, honey, but it’s time for my next set. You’ll be here when I’m done?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rory replied, his eyes fixed upon her. He couldn’t possibly be drunk from only a few sips of a terrible cocktail, yet he already felt euphoric.

“Is my wig straight?” Lacey leant forward and whispered.

“Yes, you’re fine,” Rory said lowly.

Lacey smiled and returned to the stage, the crowd cheering as if they’d been waiting a century for her return. She began a lively, energetic song about how they didn’t need the outside world. Rory was forgetting it more by the second. He felt he could always stay in this bar, watching Lacey sing and feeling the vibrations of the band playing. Everything which had been bothering him for years was washing away. How could he have never known this world existed right below his feet?

 

“And then the guy starts playing the bagpipes! I’ve never seen the place clear out so fast.”

“I wish I could have seen that.” Rory laughed along with her. “Wait, where did everyone go?” He looked around to see the speakeasy empty except for Kenneth sweeping a filthy rag over the bar, leaving behind more dirt than he was cleaning up.

“It must be close to morning. I didn’t even realise,” Lacey said. She didn’t appear even remotely tired. These late nights must have been normal to her.

“Is it morning? It’s hard to tell down here.”

“That’s on purpose. Keeps the punters drinking longer.”

“Smart move,” Rory said. He almost felt he could forget about the outside world completely. As long as he was down here, it could just be him and Lacey together.

“Well, now we’re alone,” Lacey began, ignoring Kenneth’s cough, “there’s nobody to interrupt us.”

“Interrupt us doing… what?” Rory asked, flushing all over even as he leant in closer.

“I think you know,” Lacey said, licking her lips and tucking a strand of fire-red hair behind Rory’s ear. 

Their faces were inches apart. Lacey’s eyes were already closing. Rory only had to move slightly…

He snapped the cuff closed around her wrist.

“Colin Gilbert,” he said, his voice deep and authoritative.

Lacey’s eyes snapped open at the sound of her real name.

“You are hereby under arrest for the management of an illegal speakeasy and-”

Colin’s elbow dug into his face. His heel struck Rory’s stomach, sending him tumbling off the barstool. “I should’ve known,” he grumbled, his voice now missing the falsetto he’d been using all night. “Cops are sneaky bastards.”

Rory pulled himself up. The handcuffs were still hanging from Colin’s wrist. He needed to get the other half around his own. But he had to be careful. This was Don Gilbert’s son, after all. His father was in charge of the Hell’s Alley Gang, the most dangerous mobsters in Over York. He could see the resemblance closer now. The same sharp jawline and dark, twisted eyes. No makeup could hide that.

The crook was too fast, rolling over the other side of the bar. Kenneth flattened himself against it as he raced across. Rory rushed to the other side, determined to cut him off.

“Don’t bother helping or anything,” Colin hissed at his bartender as he vaulted over the other side of the bar. 

Rory had barely made it around the other side as Colin wrenched open a back door and immediately tumbled over. It took both of them a second to realise he’d fallen over a stack of beer bottle crates against the door.

“Kenneth, you’re fired!” Colin roared, throwing one of the bottles at him.

“Good. I’m not putting up with any more of this shit,” Kenneth said, throwing his hands up and marching to the opposite door.

Colin ignored him as he scrambled up. It gave Rory enough time to reach him and grab him by his hair. It ripped off and he vaulted over the crates. Rory could’ve kicked himself. He’d been with the man all evening. How had he forgotten he wore a wig?

Rory clambered over the misplaced crates and barrels – more illegal drink than he’d ever seen in a single place – and up the staircase. He burst through after Colin, the early morning light hurting his eyes and the ice-cold air hitting him with a rush. The city was just waking up, bakers and milkmen going about their rounds or setting up for the day. The last few remaining speakeasy patrons mingled around, throwing up into the gutters or watching the chase in a drunken stupor.

“Go to hell, copper!” one of them slurred at Rory as they raced past.

Colin outran him easily, even in heels.

“How are you running in those?” Rory called to them, genuinely curious.

“You think you’re the first pig who’s ever chased me?” Colin shouted back, knocking over a fruit seller’s stand in an attempt to trip him.

“I don’t doubt that,” Rory said as he dodged the squashed mangoes and dirtied apples.

“Bloody gangs!” the fruit seller yelled after them, shaking a fist.

“Bloody coppers is more like it,” Colin called back, not slowing for even a moment.

He had to tire eventually, Rory knew. Especially if he was running in heels and a silk dress. They weren’t padded and would freeze him outside at this altitude. But Rory would tire, too. Already he was starting to sweat in his padded suit. He could feel his face reddening and his breaths coming shorter. 

His blood ran hotter as he found his second wind, just as Colin slid down a ladder to a lower level of the outer city. A shot of released steam from the interior engines hid him. Rory brushed it away and waited for it to clear. The other man was gone. Rory glanced around as he climbed down, his sweaty hands threatening to let him fall and become pavement slurm.

He spotted his target, a flash of gold ducking into an alley. He followed, catching the man’s eyes again as he turned to check behind him. Casting even a flicker back was a mistake. He tripped over. Now Rory had him.

The tram back from Harlem trundled around the corner. Colin grabbed the rail and leaped aboard. He turned back with a grin, watching Rory race after him. The smile faded just as quickly as he leapt aboard.

“You didn’t have to bring innocent people into this,” Rory snarled.

“The tram’s basically empty at this time of day,” Colin quipped, jerking a thumb to the single off-duty security guard snoring in his seat. A second later he booked it along the tram, Rory close on his high heels. He reached the driver’s cabin, who barely had time to react as he leapt out the side door.

“I’m so sorry,” Rory said as he followed. 

Each street lamp flickered off as Colin flew by. Finally he stopped, clutching a railing at the city’s edge. This was it. Rory had him now. There was nowhere left for him to run. There was nothing left before him but the sky and a long drop. Rory was feet away, his hand outstretched to grab him.

Colin drew back, flashing him a look which was almost concerning. Why would he feel concern for him? Then Rory knew. His momentum took him over the railing. He was falling. His eyes widened as he saw the ocean far below the floating city, stretched wide, and waiting for him. There was no safety netting. Why was there no netting? It was supposed to prevent accidents like this.

This couldn’t be it, could it? After all he’d done, all the work he’d put into tracking and stopping the Hell’s Alley Gang, he was going to die simply by falling over the city’s edge? He couldn’t. Not now. There was so much he still had to do. He still hadn’t fulfilled the promise he’d made on the day of his father’s funeral. And now he was rushing to meet him.

A soft hand closed around his wrist. He wasn’t falling. Panting, he looked back. Colin’s hand was holding his wrist firmly. They took in each other for a long moment, unable to tear their eyes away. Colin could so easily let him drop. He probably wanted him dead. Rory had witnessed himself how much the mob hated the police.

Instead, in a single swift motion, Colin pulled Rory back up, grabbing the front of his jacket and drawing him so close their faces were practically touching. In the light of the sunrise, the flecks of gold in his eyes were even brighter.

“Don’t think this means anything, filth,” he said, pushing Rory onto solid ground before darting away.

Rory couldn’t follow him. His vision swam, his breaths came hard and heavy, and bile pushed into his throat. He’d almost died. He’d almost fallen right off the edge.

And the Don’s son had saved his life.

 

Colin ducked behind the first billboard he reached, panting as he peeked out. He watched as Rory staggered to his feet and returned to the Inner City, dazed but alive. 

He leant back, filling his lungs with the sharp outside air. He grinned. Another successful escape from the pigs. He raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and something metallic smacked him in the face. He opened his eyes to see the handcuff still around his wrist. Still locked tight. And the key with the police officer.

“Aw bollocks.”

 

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Writing update – 7/2/2022

07 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by Jessica Wood in author, Blog, self publishing, writing, writing update

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dieselpunk, steampunk, writing, writing update

Why is it the beginning of February feels so strange? The new year has barely begun, yet Christmas feels like a distant memory.

My new year hasn’t been so bad so far, with many new projects to work on. The only setback I’ve experienced is my Finnish course being cancelled due to few people signing up. Because nobody wants to learn Finnish, even the people who live here! I’m disappointed as one of my goals this year is to improve my Finnish speaking skills, yet I still struggle just ordering pastries from the bakery. It also means getting my citizenship has been set back further. But I’ve had to accept the minor setback and focus on different things for the time being, mostly the writing projects I’m juggling.

One good thing at least is that I finally got an adjustable desk, which can be used both sitting or standing. My physiotherapist told me months ago that I should get one for the sake of my legs, since I kept on getting severe cramps (as in waking up in the middle of the night screaming in pain and scaring my husband). I finally got this one with my Christmas/birthday money and it’s been great so far.

As for writing, I mentioned in my New Year post that I’m working on a dieselpunk sky city series to be released this year. The first book, Sky’s Edge, should be back from the beta readers in the next few days and will be released on May 1st. The second titled City of Devils is close to the first editing stages and is scheduled for release on August 28th. I was going to release it on September 2nd, the anniversary of the day I moved to Finland, but then Amazon had to go and announce they’re releasing their Lord of the Rings series on the same day (Is everybody else as terrified about that series as I am?).

In the meantime, I’m almost finished on a prequel to the Tales From Undersea series which will be used as a freebie for signing up to the newsletter. This one is about the origins of the Undersea world, focused upon Leonardo da Vinci. I’ll hopefully be announcing that one soon.

Outcasts’ Alliance is out now! And what’s coming next

02 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by Jessica Wood in author, Blog, book launch, fantasy, self publishing

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book launch, book release, dieselpunk, fantasy, steampunk, steampunk book

The final part of the Tales From Undersea trilogy is now available as an eBook! Click the cover below to grab your copy.

What’s coming next in 2022? Aside from hopefully being able to travel again. First of all, the Tales From Undersea series is getting a dieselpunk upgrade with the launch of a new series – Tales From the Skies. This series will be set in a sky city in the 1920s and will focus on a police/mafia romance, with lots of fun characters and fantasy elements.

As well as these books, I will also be jumping into the fantasy genre (although my books are arguably fantasy anyway) with the start of the Children of the Jaguar Empire series, a globe-trotting adventure based upon Aztec mythology.

I’m very proud of how my writing has developed over 2021. While I’m still far from the ‘quit your day job’ stage, I hope it will develop further in 2022.

Have a good New Year and may you receive many blessings for the next 12 months!

Six Steampunk Trends I love (and One I Hate)

01 Tuesday Jun 2021

Posted by Jessica Wood in Blog, books, fantasy, romance, steampunk, story, villain, writing

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dieselpunk, dystopian, enemies to lovers, fantasy, murder mystery, steampunk, steampunk books

I’ve been researching popular trends in steampunk books lately to better help my own writing, and in doing so I’ve uncovered some I really like, and a few I can’t stand. These are some of them:

  1. Magitech

I once heard someone say that magic has no place in steampunk since technology usually fills the same role. But steampunk often straddles the thin like between fantasy and science fiction, so why can’t we have both? Technical devices powered by magic are both fascinating and unique, and allow us to experience the best of both fantasy and sci-fi.

2. Steam-powered dictatorship

The popularity of the dystopian genre seems to have bled into steampunk in franchises such as Mortal Engines. It is a nice subversion for the standard steampunk setting where technology improves everyone’s lives and society lives in harmony. I especially love the setting in Kathryn Ann Kingsley’s Cardinal Wings series where a communist-style society has essentially taken over all of Europe.

3. Murder mystery

Perhaps it’s because of Sherlock Holmes, but there seem to be quite a few mystery series with a steampunk twist. My particular favourites are The Daemoniac by Kat Ross about a gender-flipped Sherlock Holmes and the Arcane Casebook series by Dan Willis which takes a more dieselpunk tone.

4. Art nouveau

While we mostly associate steampunk with Victorian aesthetics, it seems more common lately to include inspiration from the early 20th century and the art nouveau and art deco styles. As much as I like the Victorian era, I like these looks much better and find the simplistic lines much more pleasing. They can be used both to make a setting look cool or to make it appear imposing and threatening.

5. Propaganda

The role which propaganda plays in our public perception has been more of a hot-button issue in recent years. As sinister as it is, there is something oddly fascinating about how words and images can sway huge groups of people into a particular way of thinking, and how virtually every society has attempted it at some point in history. Steampunk is a particularly interesting genre to explore this, especially when combined with the dystopian elements I mentioned above.

6. Enemies to lovers

Readers have been going crazy over this trope lately, especially since we’ve started deconstructing classic villain archtypes. There’s something incredibly thrilling about reading two people from opposing sides realising they actually have a lot in common and going from one emotional extreme to the other. Once again, this works perfectly in steampunk fiction which loves both a good villain and a good romance.

And one trend I hate:

Everyone loves the hero

I enjoy romantic drama as much as the next reader or fanfiction writer, but something I notice a lot in the steampunk books I’ve read lately is protagonists with several love interests, or at least people who are interested in them. Sometimes it seems as if the entire world is falling at the main character’s feet within moments of meeting them. It runs the risk of portraying the character as unrealistic and there isn’t going to be much of a character arc unless somebody hates their guts.

 

What are your favourite and least favourite steampunk trends? Let me know in the comments below!

 

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Writing update – Janurary 2021

18 Monday Jan 2021

Posted by Jessica Wood in adaptation, author, Blog, Editing, indie, pirate, self publishing, steampunk, story, writing update

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am writing, creative writing, dieselpunk, steampunk, writing, writing update

I haven’t posted many actual updates since the first book in my series came out. Rest assured, I’m already in the swing of the next two books in the series.

Book 2 – Stealing From Thieves: I got feedback from beta readers which was mostly positive, but did point out some things to correct, which I have done. The book is almost ready to begin the editing phase. I did plan to have this book finished by the end of 2020, but the feedback took longer than I anticipated. Now I’m planning to have it published by Midsummer this year, and hopefully to have the paperback ready to publish at the same time as the e-book.

Book 3 – Outcast’s Alliance: I’m looking over the first draft which I wrote at the end of last year. I expected it to be full of plot holes and errors, which it is, but not nearly as many as I feared. Dare I say it, it’s actually pretty good. Or at least it will be once it’s edited. Once I’ve finished making notes, I’ll be starting the second draft. I plan to have this book finished and ready to publish by the end of 2021.

Other books: I just can’t help myself. Even with these other two books to write and one to promote, I’m still developing ideas for future books in the series, and other series. I just don’t know which one I will work on immedietly after I’ve finished this current trilogy. I’ll probably leave it up to whatever the readers want the most. I’m already planning two one-off sequels to the first Tales From Undersea trilogy focusing on some of the secondary characters who have already proved popular with readers (and with me!). I’m also planning a dieselpunk trilogy set in the same world but moved ahead to the 1920s and set in an underwater version of New York City. A non-related series I’m also developing ideas for is a series based upon the Jules Verne books (can you tell yet that I like Jules Verne?). But that is still in the very early stages of development, so I can’t say anything else about the plot or characters.

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