Locke's Monthly Newsletter: Sneak Peek

April 2023

Dear Reader,

As promised, I’m giving you a sneak peek into Tides of Acerba, the fourth book in my Caelestis series, which will be out next month. I have gone through and edited the manuscript several times in response to feedback from my beta readers, so it is as polished as I can get it. Yesterday, I sent the manuscript off to the person who is copyediting it for me, and once I’ve made the (I hope few) changes she suggests, I will send it off for my professional proofreader to give it one more cleanup, which means a correcting a few more typos and some comma errors that no one else caught.

This month in the Audiobook Raffle, I am giving away free Spotify codes for the collected box set of the first three books in the Caelestis series so this is a good way to get ready for this fourth book. And for my mystery lovers, I have also discounted the audiobook edition of Maids of Misfortune on a couple of retailers. And, here is my usual reminder that the ebook editions of both my first in series books, Maids of Misfortune and Between Mountain and Sea, are free.

In addition, I am very pleased to provide information on how to get a free copy of this month’s historical mystery by another author, No Game for a Dame. I have read every book in this series and love them all.

M. Louisa Locke

Sneak Peek: Tides of Acerba: Caelestis Series Book 4

Chapter One

Early Monday, November 7, 167 AA (After Arrival)
Mynyddamore, Western Province, Caelestis, New Eden

I swam behind Awelon, the sleek young hen ddynion, as we slid through the cold current of the River Rhrewllyd, bubbles of laughter coming out of my mouth to tickle my face. Caeruleum’s blue light rippled on the surface of the water, while my friend, the golden-furred gwynddoeth Eurig, waited impatiently for me on the shore.

Abruptly, my forward movement met resistance. I reached out to Awelon with a question, receiving nothing in return but a sense of overwhelming terror.

Surfacing, I saw that the erratic, tiny grey moon, Acerba, had decided to challenge blue Caeruleum. The two moons, both full, were riding high in the night sky, and they were pushing the incoming tide in full spate towards us. The harder I swam, the less headway I made. Feeling Awelon falter, I reached out to lend support, but I was too late. The frothing wall of water pushed her under, then slammed into me, sending me tumbling into oblivion.

With a start, I woke up, safe in bed on the fourth floor of Mynyddamore, the old stone roundhouse that was my home. I sought out Awelon and received an image of her drowsing peacefully on Candle Rock, snuggled up against her mother and father.

Through the room’s western-facing window, I could see that Caeruleum had already set, leaving the November sky cold and empty of all but the stars and tiny Acerba, on this night, only a sliver of grey.

It was only a dream. Yet, the terror remained.

* * *

I sent out a reassuring thought to Eurig, my gwynddoeth friend, who had clearly been disturbed by my panic. Normally, he would have been sleeping curled up beside me, but he was down in the clinic, watching over a sick child. I told him I was fine.

Only a dream. But I couldn’t get back to sleep.

Putting on my quilted jacket, I slipped out of my room, turned right, and went along the outside circular walkway to my great-grandmother’s bedroom. The cold of the stone floor radiated up through my wool socks, and the stiff breeze crossing the open courtyard whipped strands of my long black hair into my face.

I should have taken the time to re-braid it.

When I got to her door, I hesitated and leaned my cheek against its wood surface, scarred by over a hundred and fifty years of exposure to the weather in this part of the western province of Caelestis.

 Not wishing to disturb her, I crept silently into my great-grandmother’s room and saw that she was fast asleep. I nodded to Eurig’s daughter Eilwen, who raised her head from where she lay curled at the foot of the bed. The young gwynddoeth watched over my great-grandmother each night. Telepathic, like all gwynddoeths, Eilwen would summon help if she sensed any change in the old woman’s breathing.

I silently reassured her that I was all right but wished to spend some time with my great-grandmother.

Ddaerans called her Hen Nain, but she had been born Betsy Kuttner, the illegitimate daughter of a Ddaeran and a member of the Kuttner Founding Family. She came to Mynyddamore over ninety years ago to work with Mabel Yu, my great-great-grandmother. She was the ancestor who built Mynyddamore and became the first Ceidwad Addewid, the Promise Keeper, vowing to protect the Ddaerans and their way of life from predators, including other members of the ten Founding Families.

When young Betsy arrived at Mynyddamore, she fell in love with the land, the Ddaerans, Mabel, and Mabel’s youngest son Michael. After Michael died, as his widow, Betsy decided to stay on at Mynyddamore. Eventually, she inherited Mynyddamore from Mabel, becoming the next Promise Keeper, a position she had now held for over fifty years.

From her, I had inherited my green eyes, so different from the rest of the Yus, plus the reddish tint to my black hair. Most importantly, I had also inherited my psychic abilities. Because of those abilities, and my great-grandmother’s surprising decision to declare me her heir, I would become the next Promise Keeper to the Ddaerans of the western province.

Looking down at my great-grandmother, seeing how old and frail she’d become, my greatest worry was that this inheritance would come all too soon, and I wouldn’t be ready.

Sitting down in the chair next to her bed, I calmed my fears. I had no healing abilities, but I was a strong telepath, and I had discovered over these past few months that I could sink into my great-grandmother’s dreams and bring her a more restful sleep.

Tonight, my great-grandmother was dreaming about her beloved Mynyddeira Mountains, their snow-capped peaks pink from the rays of a setting sun. Becoming part of the dream, I handed her the cane with the red tassel, and we climbed up through the trees on the lower slopes, the soft bells of the meddalwyn herds drawing us ever upwards.

Together, we found some momentary peace.

(Coming May, 2023)

Audiobook Discounts

99 cents on Chirp, Nook, Spotify

$1.99 on AppleBooks

Historical Mystery for the Month

No Game for a Dame: A Maggie Sullivan Mystery, Book 1

She loves hats. She’s a soft touch. Will she risk too much to help a client?
Dayton, 1938

A quick brain, sensational legs, and a .38 get pre-WWII private investigator Maggie Sullivan out of most scrapes – until a stranger threatens to bust her nose, she’s hauled in on suspicion of his murder and she finds herself in the cross-hairs of a sadistic gangster.
The nephew of Maggie’s new client has unwittingly run afoul of the gangster. Can Maggie keep the naive young man – and herself – alive while she figures out what sort of scheme he’s upset?
Matching wits against dangerous men, with bits of information from a manicurist, a ragged newsboy and the girls at her rooming house, Maggie follows a path that leaves her drugged, in her DeSoto in a ditch. A gunman puts a bullet through her hat. Her shutterbug pal on the evening paper urges her to drop the case. A new cop whose presence unsettles her thinks she’s crooked.
Just as she pulls together all the answers she needs, Maggie is captured and faces two men who have killed before, and will kill again to silence her.

Download your Free Copy of this mystery with the style and wit of classic private eyes of the 1930s and 40s.

AudioBook Spotify Raffle:

This month’s 15 winners of the Audiobook Raffle will get a free code to download a copy on Spotify of the audiobook edition of Caelestis Series: Books 1-3. All you have to do is reply to this email and tell me you wish to participate in the Raffle by April 18.

For more information about either my mystery or science fiction series, check out my website. For daily information on my journey as an indie author trying to age gracefully, check out my newsletter, An Aging Author’s Daily Diversions.