About the Book:
Callum, Melusine and Al play in a band with no name, baffling audiences in terrible pubs across the northeast of England with their ‘sound’. Their songs tell the stories of the Solkats: fictional northern gods of small things, of mishap and mayhem. Absolutely no one knows what they’re on about. But they believe in their music, and in each other. And they’re happy.
That is, until an act of violence at a pub gig goes viral, they catch the eye of a disillusioned influencer and suddenly go from having a cult following to having a cult, following.
All the Solkats want, Callum insists, is to have effect on the world. But as fans from LA to Australia flock to Northumberland, and each gig becomes larger and more lawless than the last, this effect starts to feel scarily… real. Which poses the question: if the Solkats really do exist, which is it more dangerous to anger: a wayward group of elder gods, or your biggest fans?
Because gods and cults both demand sacrifices. And one way or another they’re going to get one…
My Thoughts:
Phew, what a ride. This debut book is gloriously lyrical in its descriptive prose and its soaring dialogue. Many times I simply stopped reading and thought, wow… what a fabulous line, who writes like this? It’s a book about a band. It’s also a dark creepy story about obsession and fandom and somehow the author has managed to give this book an underlying atonal sound that makes reading each page feel just that little bit off centre. You understand immediately as a reader that this is a book that will take you on an uncomfortable journey. The indie band just want to make the music that’s in their heads – come alive. Their music – their way. Each member of the band is a fascinating deep dive into the psyche of a creative, asking what makes them tick. What makes them see the world as they do and can anyone ever really understand.
And then there is the treatise on obsessive fandom, the perils of social media “reality,” of music that takes control of your soul, of needing to create at the expense of your own sanity, and the grubby monetisation of it all. There will always be someone to sell the skeleton or pick over the bones of what we love most. The Solkats are the most down-to-earth creatures in this dark twisty tale… which is a scary thing to think about. A fascinating read that I very much enjoyed, and weirdly can’t stop thinking about… A testament to its author.
PHOTO PROMPT © Lily
Sitting side by side.
This is the life.
I love visiting this planet.
No cities. No cars. No ships. No roads. No people. No war. No fighting. No death.
Just peace.
My mother and I bring out our chairs and just sit.
And watch.
It’s a world away from galactic war. From her being the General. Of me being a soldier. Of endless fighting for no gain other than to say they have not taken us yet. We’ll go back. We will continue to fight. To Survive. But when we need a moment to breathe, we come here.
And watch.
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
You can read more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Lori Wilson
This new way of traveling was wild.
BubbleBalloonTravelTM
At first, we laughed… no way would it take off. We underestimated the ease of use. Floating above deadlocked traffic in individual bubbles — no need to share your space with a driver. They even managed to find a way to pipe music through the liquid. Plus, the soft bobbing had a rather soporific effect. The only issue? Travel is slower than you might like. You can’t rush. It forces us to slow down. To enjoy the moment. To drift.
And its specs were released for free. No monetarisation.
This is the life.
This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt
You can read more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
About the Book:
Eight hours to stop an explosion …
Eight hours to fall in love.
It’s 2067, and the Graves family has transformed Mars from a lifeless rock into a chaotic patchwork of settlements. You can buy a one-way ticket to a new life – if you’re rich.
Enter Hunter Graves: handsome, ambitious, and with spectacularly bad timing. He shows up unannounced at the United Nations base just as an emergency evacuation sends everyone scurrying for safety. And he’s left behind. Uh-oh.
Also stranded: Cleo, a sharp-tongued stowaway with no intention of dying today, and even less patience for overconfident trust fund boys. But the enemy of your enemy is the jerk who might just help you survive, so here we are.
Now, Hunter and Cleo have one shot to stop the explosion, escape alive, and deal with the inconvenient fact that they’re falling for each other.
The clock is ticking.
My thoughts:
This was a ride! What a fun adventure. I smashed through this one in a couple of days. Amie Kaufman once again hits it out of the park with this new sci fi. A battle of wits between mercenaries and young adults would already be an adrenaline fused adventure, but set it on the planet Mars and there are a lot more stakes that come into play. Like breathing for one. The use of the count down is a clever concept by the author that keeps the reader racing toward the end to see if everyone survives. Full of banter and snark this is a great read.
Both of our heroes in this story are intelligent survivors. And coming from opposite backgrounds gives them plenty to butt heads over. Cleo is a stowaway just trying to survive. Hunter is the rich boy looking for his family. Together they are stranded on a Mars settlement that is suddenly evacuated and they have to figure out how to stay alive. They are forced to work together to hide from the sudden appearance of a group mercenaries intent on controlling the empty settlement. But that’s not all the mercenaries have planned. This is a romance and a scifi and an action packed thriller all rolled into one. As always Amie Kaufman creates memorable characters and her world building is top tier. I recommend it for a great escape from the everyday humdrum of life.
PHOTO PROMPT © Fleur Lind
“Are you going to go through?”
I spin around and examine the hooded woman behind me. Shadows conceal most of her face but I can see her piercing gaze, wrinkled skin, a bulbous nose and graying scraggly hair. “I’m sorry?”
She presses in closer forcing me to back up. “The doorway. Are you going to step through?”
Her breath smells of onions.
“I was waiting for someone.”
“They’ll follow. You can’t miss your chance. Go through, now.” She grabs my arm.
The hand she cannot see falls to my cloak. I touch the hilt of the poisoned dagger. “After you.”
This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt
You can read more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot
There is a headlight in the window. I wait, breathless. But no. It passes. I’m covered in a cold sweat but I’m not sick. It’s fear. I know they are coming to save me. I just have to wait here. In this house of other people’s things. The humans are hunting me. The alien that crash landed. My people have a safe house. It was where I was headed when I was shot down. I scrub a claw over my dry skin. They call me monster. Or lizard person. Foolish humans. I won’t hurt them.
Not unless they catch me.
This is a Friday Fictioneers prompt
You can read more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart
The dinner spectacle wouldn’t hide my presence here. Not if he looked over. He didn’t. He was too focused on the woman across from him, the one telling him how wonderful he was.
Ugh.
What would she do if I stormed over and told her the man she sat across from planned to take a part of her, her nose or an arm perhaps, from her soon to be dead body to add to his monstrous creation. Like he had my sister.
I didn’t move. I would follow them when they left and end him before he took another life.
This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt
You can find more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Lily
The giant’s keys were something of a novelty.
No one knew where they had come from, but there they sat pride of place on the planter beside the door. No one asked Jack where they came from. It was something of a sore point for him. If asked, he would turn morose, faintly pink in the cheeks, eyes heavy with sadness. It would be days before he returned to his jolly flamboyant philanthropic self.
The day the keys disappeared was the same day Jack disappeared. The same day golden eggs were found hidden around town. Coincidence? No one ever knew.
This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt
You can read more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
PHOTO PROMPT © Ted Strutz
He examined the image carefully, unable to pinpoint what gave him such an unsettled feeling. The image in the frame and the image on the phone should have been identical. It was the same image but … then he saw it. A mark where a mark should not be. The image was … different. But how? He checked the image on the phone again. He’d taken the photo himself. It was not doctored. Not AI enhanced. A simple photo. He blinked, becoming the man inside the image. The painter, now free, picked up the phone. “Cheers to you, mate.”
This is a Friday Fictioneers Prompt
You can read more FF prompt responses here
Word count: 100
© Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. All Rights to the works and publications on this blog are owned and copyrighted by Solothefirst & Laurie Bell. The Owner of this site reserves all permissions for access and use of all documents on this site. NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.
Rambles, writing and amusing musings 