Coming soon: FALLEN by Traci L. Slatton
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Coming soon: FALLEN by Traci L. Slatton

Coming soon: FALLEN by Traci L. Slatton

Coming soon: FALLENTo my loyal readers, in a few weeks this tale of a doomed romance in an apocalyptic world will be available….

As chaos descends on a crippled Earth, survivors are tormented by strange psychic gifts. In this time of apocalyptic despair, love is put to the test. One woman with mysterious healing power guides seven children to safety. Charismatic Arthur offers her a haven. Slowly Emma falls for him. But at the moment of their sweetest love, his devastating secret is revealed, and they are lost to each other. 

The Italian cover of IMMORTAL
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The Italian cover of IMMORTAL

The Italian cover of IMMORTAL

Italian cover of IMMORTAL

It’s that time of year for me: warm weather and sunshine, an urge to wear silky dresses that breeze around my thighs, fantasies about travel and escape and the Pinacoteca Vaticano and a lover who keeps me occupied for the whole hot lunch hour, when everyone in Rome goes inside. Nowhere on Earth is the sky bluer or the cypress trees more fragrant or the skin more delectably open to touch than in Italy.
Such naughty thoughts can only come from Caravaggio, that mad but brilliant painter of the late Renaissance. Murderous sociopathy aside, he knew better than any artist in history how to portray the rotting of the spirit. Sometimes I hate him for that. Other times, I am compelled to stare. Makes me think of that moment when fruit is just a little too ripe and soft, a little too sweet for the tongue and perfumed for the palate, a little bruised and burnished from the sun, but it hasn’t yet dropped off the vine.
So imagine my delight at this cover for Marco Tropea Editore’s Italian version of IMMORTAL: Caravaggio’s Narcissus! A wonderful painting. A pleasure to behold, and a feast for the senses.
Time for a plane ticket!
IMMORTAL en francais, and Two great new blog posts
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IMMORTAL en francais, and Two great new blog posts

IMMORTAL en francais

IMMORTAL en francais, and Two great new blog posts

Voila, IMMORTEL

What an awesome cover! I love it. It reminds me of 1940’s pulp sci-fi, a genre I sorely miss. Reminds me of the juicy fun covers of Edgar Rice Burroughs books, when I used to save up money from my allowance and my paper route to buy books. To the French illustrator: my compliments!

Certainly, my French translator did an amazing and meticulous job of translation. He kept emailing me with questions until he really grokked everything I was trying to say. So, for all you French speakers: Buy this book!

The journey of this novel has been an extraordinary gift. The most interesting people respond to the book. Sometimes they contact me, sometimes they don’t.

Laura Faeth, herself the noted author of the visionary memoir I Found All the Parts: Healing the Soul through Rock ‘n’ Roll, recently emailed to tell me that she’d enjoyed the book. Her comments were thoughtful and she asked if she could send questions for me to answer for her blog, Rock ‘n’ Reincarnation. “Yes, please!” I replied.

Laura’s questions were intriguing, as expected from a close reader with a unique and self-aware perspective. Her deep sense of the soul of mysticism informs her writing. She posted my replies… So take a look at Rock ‘n’ Reincarnation.

Then sometimes something about Immortal pops up on the internet, unexpected and delightful. I set up google alerts to notify me, and something fun came through: a great review on The Bookworm’s Library. A reader named Lisa posted a review: “This is a great, unexpected treasure of a story that I came across, while I was looking for something else in the library recently…. This book offers a tremendous historical fiction of a fascinating time in history….This story is an amazing read… We are challenged to find that the most important thing in this life is the true nature of the self… I loved this book, this one is a great read!”

Lisa wrote several paragraphs. Like Laura, Lisa read passionately and thought carefully. It’s a blessing and a joy to have such readers.

So, thank you to Laura and to Lisa, and take a peek at the blogs…

Rock ‘n’ Reincarnation and also Sound of your Soul by Laura Faeth

The Bookworm’s Library which seems to be by AbbyW, Lisa, and Nikki.
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NEW REVIEW OF IMMORTAL, COMING IN JULY TO RENAISSANCE MAGAZINE

NEW REVIEW OF IMMORTAL, COMING IN JULY TO RENAISSANCE MAGAZINE

In a recent National Public Radio spot on Dugald Steer’s Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons and other books in the Myth(ologies) series, an enthusiastic fourth-grade fan of those books remarked, “There’s sorta like a fiction way to learn real stuff.”  How true—and for adult readers wishing to plumb renaissance Italy while being thoroughly entertained, there is Immortal, Traci L. Slatton’s stunning debut novel set primarily in the majestic heart of Florence. Immortal sweeps across the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries as it follows the tumultuous life of Luca Bastardo, a beautiful blond-haired orphan boy who is kidnapped from a wretched life on the streets and plunged into an even worse existence as a prostitute by a murderous brothel-owner who surely ranks as one of the most vile characters in literature.

   Blessed with unnaturally keen senses, Luca’s salvation is his ability to free his mind and soar to calming places while he is forced to “work.” As time passes, others age, but not Luca Bastardo, who at twenty-seven still looks about thirteen.  Inventive and lush in the manner of author Anne Rice, Immortal explores the dividing line between the real and unreal, following Luca’s journey across time as he struggles to unravel the mystery of his birth and his ageless beauty while facing a difficult choice: immortality or the chance to find his one true love.

   Along the way, Luca survives the Black Death and the Inquisition and becomes intimates with such giants of the Renaissance as artists Giotto di Bondone and Leonardo da Vinci—150 years apart—not to mention Savonarola and Sandro Botticelli. A mix of art, religion, alchemy, and historical intrigue, Immortal is original and beautifully written, a true gift to the senses and an uncommonly good read.

Alana White
 
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To Russia With Love, and Venus retrograde

A Russian reader asked if I read Anne Rice. First, thank you for contacting me, Russia! Second, yes, I read Anne Rice. I greatly admire her ability to create a world that sucks you in and doesn’t let you go. I am not one of those people who adore vampires–really, during love-making, I don’t want my blood sucked–but I do love a good story, well told. Rice can do that. I hear she’s crazy religious now, which I regret.

But I do understand it. The call of spirit is always there. In my mind, writers are especially susceptible to the lure of the universe of creation. We hear it in the ear of our mind and its siren call is exquisite, undeniable. I can well understand the appeal and solace of a fundamentalist religion. To feel, every moment, that intimate ecstasy, that ravishing certainty…. Then there’s the other part of me that says, Vishnu is Jesus is Zeus is Adonai is Buddha, and it’s my uncertainty, my longing, that is holy. Heschel called faith “a blush before God.” Well, let’s keep blushing. Let’s not take on the anemia of knowing. It’s the approach, laden with wonder, that fortifies us, and praises the divine.

Now: we are a few days into Venus retrograde. In the Vedic system, some authorities say that Venus retrograde in Pisces, the sign of its exaltation, acts debilitated. I am not certain of that. The jury is still out for me.

What I have seen with retrograde planets is that they are internalized. A certain process of curiosity and exploration about them becomes necessary. When Mercury turns retrograde–communication and computers go haywire. You can straighten them out, you just have to ask yourself a series of questions: Why did this happen? How do I untangle this? What’s the deeper issue? With computers, I’ve seen a few times that there have been problems brewing, and Mercury moving backward brings those problems to light. You just can’t ignore the virus, or the erratic motherboard, anymore. Is that a debility, to deal with problems?

I like Vedic astrology and use it because it works. But I can’t forget that it is Moon centered, while Western astrology is sun centered. In Vedic astrology, there is an underlying assumption that what is comfortable, what solaces the moon, is what is best. In Western astrology, the underlying assumption is that we are all here to self-actualize, to become our fullest soul selves–to shine our light. So I always weigh the two systems, along with other archetypal systems. For me, it’s about having a variety of tools with which to understand.

Mom Jeans
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Mom Jeans

I have four children. Three daughters and a step daughter. My step-daughter and older two daughters are teens, my little one is 3. They are all feisty, opinionated creatures, beautiful and intelligent and bursting with life and mischief.

And they are all out to get me.

Mostly it’s subtle, though my oldest daughter did warn me that she wanted to watch me get beaten to a bloody pulp in the boxing ring. Ah, the sweet words of grateful offspring. But usually the blossoming fruits of my and my husband’s loins operate in more roundabout ways.

Like when I was invited to read from IMMORTAL at Sundance. They staged a palace revolt and refused to allow me to wear my trusty Levi’s to the film festival. For some reason they were determined that I would not wear my baggy, comfy, beloved jeans on the cold slopes of that Utah mountain. What is wrong with a trusty pair of Levi’s, one wonders? It mystifies one.

Racking my un-hip maternal brain, I remembered a certain incident when my husband remarked that my middle daughter was wearing jeans that resembled mine, and the aforementioned daughter burst into tears.

“Take that back!” she sobbed. “I do not wear mom jeans!”

But this pales in comparison to the time my oldest daughter saw a picture of the gorgeous, talented Julianne Moore and turned to me with a smile. “I like actresses like her, mom, who remind me of you. You know, attractive middle aged women.”

I can only apologize to Ms. Moore and assure her that, while I now know that I am middle-aged, despite whatever lingering delusions that I had cherished to the contrary, she certainly isn’t.

Back to Sundance. My middle daughter coolly, and relentlessly, dragged me to a nearby boutique and bullied me into trying on twenty five pairs of jeans. 25. Until she found the perfect pair that cupped my ass JUST SO.

This is disturbing on many levels. How would a 13 year old know to think this way? It mystifies one still more. And how does she have the stamina to try on that many pairs of pants? Is it the hormones, antibiotics, and pcb’s in the food supply? I was exhausted by the ordeal, and had to drag my middle-aged self home, clutching two pairs of jeans that cost more than a week’s groceries.