2024 COVERS

2024 covers

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We are writers mainly from Australia and New Zealand who write speculative fiction with romantic elements. Be it fantasy, paranormal, dark urban fantasy, futuristic and everything in between.

Wednesday 26 February 2014

A Bite Of... Forget Me Not

This fortnight, it is my pleasure to welcome Stacey Nash, with a bite of her latest release, Forget Me Not.



Can you, in less than five words describe your book/story Forget Me Not?
Adventure, intrigue, action, romance, technology

Who is your favourite character in this book?

The love interest, Jax. He’s a smart mouthed teen with a bit of attitude, and a lot of secrets. I always pictured him as a teenage Chase Crawford.

What inspired you to write it?
I’ve always been fascinated by conspiracy theories and Forget Me Not is like a whole bunch of them rolled in together with a science fiction and secret society explanation.

And here's the snippet!
“I’ve got a couple of youngsters in need of your help,” Al says to the back of a tattered, old armchair. Light blue fabric peeks out between numerous patches.

The chair spins on its base, and a man whose skin matches his milk chocolate eyes scans me. He wears long shorts which dangle over his bent knees and an oversized yellow, green, and red striped shirt. They’re paired with sandals and a knitted, striped beanie. He offers his hand in greeting. “Beau Fairsmith’s the name.”

I wait a moment too long before shaking his hand. He’s such a contradictory ensemble, I’m lost for words. “Ah…” I finally say. “Anamae Gilbert and William Avery.”

The blond newsreader’s voice changes tone, and my attention darts to the ancient television in the corner. “A tragedy occurred today when a man in his early thirties plummeted from the top of an office building to his death. Details on hand are sketchy, but police have issued these surveillance pictures showing a young man and woman at the scene. Anyone with information regarding these two suspects should notify the police immediately. The suspects should not be approached, as they are considered armed and dangerous.”

A pencil sketch of a moonlike face with round eyes and a small dimple just off-center of the left cheek pops up on the screen. Oh my God, it’s Will. There’s no mistaking it. A phone number flashes underneath, and an uncanny likeness of me follows.

My mouth forms the shape to exclaim ‘what,’ but the word stalls on my lips. Someone’s dead, and they think we did it. The guy who attacked me, did they find his body? Surely they couldn’t link him to me, and Will wasn’t even there. It doesn’t make any sense.

“Ya got him!” Al claps me on the shoulder, and I blink at him.

Will’s brows knit together. The same look he gets when he’s put an engine back together and there’s a part left over.

“We didn’t kill anyone. He came after me, he tried to hurt me. We weren’t even near an office building.” I can hear the crack in my voice and know I’m verging on hysterical. Breathe, Mae, breathe.

Beau points a chunky remote at the television, and it fades to a black screen. “Ahh, I bet you two have something not quite normal. Perhaps odd things happen when you use it in a certain way. The sort of thing some people might call magic.” The end of his sentence raises like it’s a question. He looks at us with expectant, wide eyes.

My hand darts to the pendant under my shirt and pins it to my chest. I exchange a troubled glance with Will.

“Magic? Yeah, maybe,” he says.

“They have a cover-up. Dimwits used it twice in broad daylight and brought themselves to the attention of The Collective.” Al rubs his brow.

Beau pulls himself up out of the old armchair, suddenly more alert. “The Collective will sacrifice everything to ensure this type of knowledge is not in the hands of the public. You are incredibly lucky or clever to be unharmed.”

The Collective. That’s what Al said, too. I glance at Will sideways. His mouth hangs slightly open, his eyes wide. He looks as astonished as I feel. Beau’s gaze shifts beyond me, and his face lights up in a smile. When I look over my shoulder, I see Bertie standing in the doorway, waving. She smiles and continues past the room; obviously she and Al are well known around here.

“When tech is used, an alarm is activated, alerting The Collective,” Beau continues. “If the use is unauthorized, they send a scout to appropriate the tech and contain any knowledge of its existence.”

The man in the East Coast Gas uniform, he must have been a scout.

“What do you mean?” Will asks.

Beau rubs his forehead. “Technology, tools, machines, items which perform a specific function. Some tech is common, like cellphones, computers, and satellite tracking, but other tech is not known or used at all. The Collective works hard to keep its knowledge hidden from the general population.”

I shake my head. “I should have known it wasn’t magic.”

The blue flower on the pendant made me appear invisible. Not magic, but technology. My hand still clutches it protectively. How does it work? It has to be some trick with light. I’ve always hated science; I spend most of class daydreaming of being outside with Will and my camera, soaking up his contagious happiness.

Beau’s voice breaks my thoughts. “We also have an alarm. We use it to intercept Collective agents and stop them from harming innocent people. The radar pinpoints the location of the use of tech.”

The boy, the one in the leather jacket. My gaze darts back to the window and the tree branches reaching over the lawn, but I can’t see him. He must have been sent to intercept the gas man.

“This is a safe house. The Collective can’t reach it. You’ll have to stay here while we secure your safety,” Beau says.

“A safe house?” Will asks.

My mind spins again. It’s doing a lot of that this afternoon. There’s so much to take in. This morning we played a dumb game, and now we’re here in the middle of ‘great danger’.

“There are several of them across the country, and each house has a number of people. We will give you assistance.”

My mind whirls. Scouts, collective, safe houses. It’s too much to take in. I move toward an armchair identical to Beau’s, place my hands on its soft, well-worn arms, and sink into it.

“I can’t stay here. My dad, I need to go home to him,” I say. “After Mom, he won’t cope if I disappear, too. He -- he needs me. He doesn’t even have his mother anymore.” I hang my head in my hands, twining my fingers into my hair. He’s balanced so close to the edge of despair, and I won’t push him over.

“They’re relentless. They won’t give up until they find you,” Al says. He’s still here. I’d almost forgotten him. “It’s not safe. You can’t outrun them forever. Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on your old man.”

Will’s already rigid stance stiffens further. “What do you mean ‘not safe’?”

“Mae is a threat to the secret knowledge of advanced technology,” Al says, “and The Collective eliminates their threats.”

Thank you very much for sharing Stacey...

Now, if you'd like to find out more about Stacey Nash and her books, check out the links below; 


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