Showing posts with label Wende Dikec. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wende Dikec. Show all posts

Thursday, May 5, 2016

Princesses in Space - Guest Blog-Starr Valentine by Wende Dikec



Princesses in Space

I’ve loved sci-fi since the moment I opened Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” and was forever hooked. Because of that book, I wanted to be a physicist some day (until I discovered there was math involved) and I also wanted to meet a boy just like Calvin O’Keefe. I wasn’t keen on the red hair, but adored everything else about him. He was my first book boyfriend.




Fast forward to the present time. I’m a sci-fi geek and a trekkie, but my unhealthy obsession extends far past pondering which captain I love more – James Tiberius Kirk or Jean Luke Picard (don’t even get me started on Kathryn Janeway – she was okay, but I never really connected).




I’ll admit my deep, dark secret now. I like the new Star Trek movies too. I think Chris Pine makes a fine Captain Kirk, and, truth be told, I almost fainted when Benedict Cumberbatch said his name was Khan.




I didn’t faint, though. I didn’t even drop my popcorn. Instead I just let out an unholy scream and scared the lady sitting one row in front of me in the theater.

Now some people say I’m not a purist since I like those movies, but I think it just proves the purity of my emotions. I adore everything Star Trek, Star Wars, Battlestar Gallactica, Firefly, Stargate, The Fifth Element, The Last Starfighter – all of it. I even liked Flash Gordon, Buck Rogers, and Lost in Space (both the series and the movie), and I loved (gulp – don’t judge me) Jupiter Ascending. Unlike most people, I honestly thought it was fabulous. I was never big on astronaut flicks or monster alien movies, but anything else with a journey, a voyage to the stars, and maybe just a touch of romance, and I was in.



When I became a writer, I didn’t start out writing sci-fi. Of course I read a steady diet of it, everything from Asimov to Zelazny (with a heavy dose of Bradbury).  But I wrote young adult and romance. Lots of romance. It wasn’t until I saw an advertisement for a sci-fi short story contest, that I even considered trying it. I gave it a shot, and Starr Valentine was born.

Starr is the story of a beautiful, popular cheerleader who finds out her parents are aliens and she has to return to her home planet, Vega. When she gets there, she realizes the standard of beauty is different and she isn’t pretty anymore. On Vega everyone fawns over her dorky older sister Astra, ignoring her completely, and Starr has to figure out who she is if she isn’t beautiful



I’ll be the first to admit it - my book is not hard-core sci-fi. If Asimov’s work is a Red Bull, then mine is a caffeine-free diet Coke. But it’s the book I wish I’d been able to read when I was an awkward teenager dreaming about faraway planets and mysterious aliens. It’s light hearted, but conveys a powerful message. And it involves a princess - even if the fairy tale is told in reverse.

And I do love princesses.





Starr Valentine
Wende Dikec

Genre: Young Adult/Sci-Fi

Publisher: Inkspell Publishing

Date of Publication: March 10, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-939590-76-3
ASIN: B01AO8XJRI

Number of pages: 176
Word Count: 64,000

Cover Artist: Najla Qamber

Book Description:

What happens when the beautiful swan becomes the ugly duckling?

Starr Valentine has a perfect life in Middleton, Ohio. She was named captain of the cheer squad, her mother finally allowed her to get highlights, and the cutest boy in school asked her to homecoming. But everything comes crashing down when she finds out her parents are actually monarchs in exile from a mysterious planet called Vega. Starr doesn’t want to leave, but loves the idea of being a princess, and decides moving to an alien world might not be so bad. When she gets there, however, she discovers that something is terribly wrong.

Starr has always been the winner of the family, but now everyone is fawning over her chubby older sister, Astra. And everyone, even a handsome and annoying young duke named Julian, seems to hate her. That is when she realizes the awful truth. Astra is now the pretty one. Astra has all the friends. Astra gets all of the attention. And Starr Valentine, voted Miss Perfect, is now the ugly duckling. Her biggest fear is…will she be able to turn back into a swan, or is she doomed to be a loser forever?


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"First Wende Dikec grabs you with her fresh writing, then she keeps you in the throes of her story with an incredible voice and a gifted talent for spinning tales that will amaze and delight. I am stunned. Tiger Lily will consume you, and before you know it you are fighting for air yet begging for more. You've been warned!"
--NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones

Excerpt:
We all met in the captain’s lounge just after the transport ship had safely landed. My father wore some sort of military uniform, and he was completely dashing, as always.
“Girls, you both look lovely.”
I smiled up at him. “So do you, Daddy,” I said, and he patted my cheek.
My mom fluttered up to us in a cacophony of lime green lace and feathers. A large gold medallion was pinned to her breast and she had on the crown she’d worn for the nightly news. She reached for our hands, tears swimming in her eyes.
“I have something for you,” she said, her voice trembling. Captain Augustus stood behind her, looking just as handsome as my father. He held open a wooden box. Inside were two small, yet perfect, tiaras.
I gasped. “Diamonds.”
“These are not your true crowns,” my mother explained. “Those went missing during the confusion when we were trying to escape. These are just a substitute until we can find something better.”
I couldn’t imagine something better. The tiaras seemed perfect. I leaned over slightly so my mom could slip it onto my head, glad I’d decided to wear my hair up in a French twist. The tiara was beautiful. I admired myself for a few minutes in the mirror before looking at Astra. She and my mother stood side by side, their hair a riot of dark curls, their dresses positively painful to the eyes, and I sighed. I really hoped they didn’t humiliate themselves too much at the ceremony. They looked like clowns from a circus performance.
My father, of course, didn’t seem to notice. He bowed and kissed my mother’s hand gallantly before linking it through his arm and leading her out the door. I could tell it was a very emotional moment for both of them. They were returning to the home they loved after being exiled for so many years. Even I could feel my throat tightening up.
Astra walked up and took my arm. “Are you ready?” she asked, and I nodded. It was time to face the music, or the Vegonians, as the case may be.
We stepped out into a warm, sultry evening on Vega. Lights had been set up all around the landing bay, and we followed my parents to an elevated platform near the ship. People waited as far as the eye could see, and as soon as my parents stepped up to the podium, the crowd roared.
I stood arm in arm with Astra, taking in the moment. The city of Celesta glittered in the light of the fading sun, just beyond the crowd of people assembled before us. It sparkled like it was made of glass. I could see what must have been the royal palace on one side of the city on top of a small hill, and it made me think of Aladdin’s castle, all gilt and white marble. I decided I could definitely get used to living there.
As I stared at the people in front of me, I started to notice something odd. The women here were not at all what I’d expected. Supposedly the most beautiful women in the universe, they all looked a lot like my mother and sister, with short, oddly shaped bodies and large behinds. They also dressed just like my mother and sister, in a riot of colors and patterns.
A quick assessment told me that I was the only pretty girl around, other than Maya, and definitely the best dressed. Maya had been forced by her parents to wear some sort of Vegonian monstrosity made out of a hot pink iridescent fabric. Torture. I, on the other hand, felt like an elegant swan dumped into the middle of a bunch of plump, gaudy, peacocks.
I heaved a sigh of relief. I’d been a little teeny tiny bit worried when I’d heard about how beautiful Vegonian women were. It was good to realize those rumors had been pure exaggeration. No one in this crowd could hold a candle to me.
Another quick look around told me that there wasn’t a single bad looking guy here. I was completely devoted to Adrian, of course, but I couldn’t help but admire and appreciate male beauty when I saw it. The boys were all works of art. It was as if I’d been dropped into a huge candy shop full of the most delicious boys I’d ever seen, and knew I could have my pick. Of course I would never cheat on Adrian, but it felt like a candy shop here, nonetheless.
My joy proved short-lived. None of the boys even looked at me. At first I thought that several of them stared at me, which made me happy, but soon realized it wasn’t me they stared at. They had their eyes locked on Astra with the same sort of enraptured expressions boys usually reserved for me.
A cold wave of shock crawled over my entire body. Boys never looked at Astra like that, especially when I stood right next to her. Something was very wrong here.
I smoothed my hair, which was perfect and didn’t need smoothing. I stuck out my chest and turned my body so they could see my best angle, but none of them even noticed me. Astra had suddenly become the center of attention.
My mother gave a very lovely and heartfelt speech, which I barely paid attention to. The crowd roared and screamed her name, but I hardly even heard it. People waved and cheered with tears streaming down their faces, but I felt numb to everything.
When we were introduced to various dignitaries, everyone said “lovely,” and “a vision,” when they met Astra. When they saw me, they looked a bit confused and then mumbled something boring like “nice to meet you.” Something very strange was going on, and I had to figure it out.
I searched the crowd for Adrian, but he was nowhere to be seen. One sexy, appreciative look from him might have been enough to restore some semblance of balance and order to my universe. But he wasn’t around and I’d been cast adrift in a sea of beautiful boys to whom I was invisible.
“Art thou okay, Princess Starr?” asked Captain Augustus. “Thou art pale.”
I blinked as I digested his words. The Vegonians spoke English, but a weird form of archaic Elizabethan English mixed with modern slang. The only people who had spoken like that on the transport ship were the captain and the crew. All of the Vegonians who been on Earth for the last fifteen years spoke standard, modern English, although I’d heard a few “thou’s” and “thee’s” begin to slip into the language of the older passengers, including my own parents.
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
As the captain bowed and turned away, I realized I wasn’t fine at all. I stared around at the sea of happy, glowing, faces, including those of my parents and my sister, and understood that suddenly, and without any explanation, I had become the outsider.

“Thou art in hell, Starr Valentine,” I murmured to myself.

About the Author:

Wende Dikec has spent her life traveling the world, and collecting stories wherever she visited. She writes in several romance genres, and her books are quirky, light, and fun. Fluent in several languages and married to a man from Istanbul, Wende is a trekkie, a book hoarder, master of the Nespresso machine, and mother of three boys. A puppy named Capone is the most recent addition to her family, and she blogs about him as a way of maintaining what little sanity she has left.







https://www.instagram.com/wendedikec/


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Friday, March 11, 2016

Do You Believe in Ghosts? Guest Blog-Tiger Lily by Wende Dikec





It was a dark and stormy afternoon (really – I’m not making that up), and we’d just settled down for our morning session in the English as a Second Language class I was teaching at a local university. I looked outside, at the rain pelting the window, and decided the atmosphere was just right to discuss one of my favorite subjects.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” I asked.

One of my students, a young woman from Thailand who’d once been one of the Royal Thai Dancers, raised her hand. “I do.”

In case you’re wondering what the Royal Thai Dancers look like, here’s a picture. My student didn’t wear this outfit to our class, though. Just FYI. She had on jeans and a pink t-shirt.



Some of the other students snickered, but the student from Thailand (I’ll call her Thai-nee Dancer), sat up straighter in her seat. “I do believe in ghosts…because once, in my village back in Thailand, one attacked my sister.”

Lightning struck outside, making everyone in the room gasp. The lights flickered. It had suddenly become the perfect setting for a scary ghost story.

Thai-nee Dancer held us enraptured as she told her tale. “The ghost was a phi ka, a hungry ghost. It tried to eat my sister’s soul.”

Her eyes were huge. “My mother had always told us to keep all the windows and doors closed at night, especially during a storm. My sister didn’t listen. She opened her window and the ghost got in.”

As the wind howled outside, the rest of the class stopped snickering. They were completely enthralled by Thai-nee Dancer’s story.

“What happened?” asked an older lady from Slovakia.

Thai-nee Dancer shook her head sadly. “It nearly killed her. We had to call a Shaman to do an exorcism. To make the ghost go away. It worked, but my sister was never the same. It…changed her.”

Suddenly the floodgates opened, and every student had a story to share. A Mexican student told us about El Día de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead. A man from Morocco shared stories of djinn and the spirits of the desert. All the students had stories from their home countries, and all had a similar thread.

To sum it up neatly: ghosts and other supernatural beings are scary. It doesn’t matter where you’re from. It doesn’t matter what language you speak. The idea of spirits walking the earth creeps people out.

And lots of people believe in ghosts. Even if they scoff at the idea on an intellectual level, on a very basic and visceral levels, ghosts give people the willies.


In my book Tiger Lily, the first ghosts my main character Lily Madison sees are black fuzzy orbs. She doesn’t even realize that the shapes are ghosts at first. She calls them “blobs.”



As I wrote Tiger Lily, I thought about Thai-nee Dancer and her story about her sister, and I started researching Asian ghost stories. The Chinese story of èguǐ, the Hungry Ghost, reminded me of Thai-nee’s ghosts, and it fit my storyline perfect. It was exactly the right ghost to use in my book. And the festival I talk about in my book is a real thing as well. It takes place in many different Asian countries. Here is a photo from the Hungry Ghost Festival in Phuket.


Is it true? Is there really such a thing as a Hungry Ghost? My student from Thailand certainly believed in it. She swore she saw it with her own eyes.

You be the judge. But may I suggest something? The next time it’s a dark and stormy night, and the wind howls outside, you might just want to close all your doors and windows. Just to be on the safe side.





Tiger Lily
Wende Dikec

Genre: YA Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Inkspell Publishing

Date of Publication: January 13, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-939590-59-6 (ebook)
ISBN: 1939590779 (paperback)
ASIN: B018A6N548

Number of pages: 156
Word Count: 56,000
Cover Artist: Najla Qamber

Book Description:

Lily Madison thought dying because of a bad manicure was the worst thing that could happen. She was wrong.

Waking up in the hospital and realizing she's being stalked by an entire herd of naughty little ghosts turns her entire world upside down. She begins to doubt her own sanity until she realizes she isn't alone. A Goth girl, named Zoe, can see the ghosts, too.

Most of the ghosts look like fuzzy blobs, but one is not blobby at all. He's a very hot, very annoying dead guy named Nick. Although they dislike each other on sight, Nick soon realizes Lily is his only hope. With the help of Zoe and Mr. Wan, the manicurist who almost killed her, she has only days to get Nick and the other ghosts back where they belong or the whole world will be in terrible danger.

But sending the ghosts back means saying goodbye to Nick forever, and Lily isn't sure she'll ever be able to let him go.

Amazon      Kobo      Barnes and Noble

"First Wende Dikec grabs you with her fresh writing, then she keeps you in the throes of her story with an incredible voice and a gifted talent for spinning tales that will amaze and delight. I am stunned. Tiger Lily will consume you, and before you know it you are fighting for air yet begging for more. You've been warned!"
--NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones



Excerpt:
I died because of a bad manicure. It wasn’t a nasty fungal infection from the manicurist using dirty equipment, or a cut that allowed deadly bacteria to creep under my skin and rot me from the inside out. I died because on impulse I let Mr. Wan of Wan Fine Lady Nail Salon paint my nails a color called Pretty and Pink.
With my red hair and pale skin, pink is tricky, but I trusted Mr. Wan. When he told me, “New color, big discount for you, Lily Madison,” I didn’t realize he actually meant, “Bad color, nobody else wants it.”
I’ve never been a risk taker. My idea of living on the edge was not having an extra bottle of hand sanitizer in my purse. I knew the pink would be a mistake, but I ignored my inner voice. I guess the smell of acetone and the hum of the nail dryers had lulled me into such a relaxed state that I didn’t realize how awful the color actually looked until I drove home in the BMW my parents had given me for my sixteenth birthday.
Pretty and Pink was false advertising, but as I learned long ago in my ninth grade science fair project, neither the government nor the FDA regulates the names of nail polish colors. I didn’t have a case, but I felt extremely upset.
I didn’t see the ice cream truck stopped in the middle of the road. I was staring at my nails, wishing I’d gone with my first choice, Princesses Rule!, a frosty pale pink that would have enhanced my natural skin tone. I glanced up just in time to narrowly avoid hitting the truck and several small children caught in a snow-cone-induced feeding frenzy.
It’s funny how accidents happen in slow motion. I remember the shocked faces of the people on the street as I swerved and flew over a small embankment. Someone screamed, and it took me a full second to realize the high-pitched wail came from my own mouth. I’d started screaming the minute I’d steered away from the ice cream truck, screamed some more as my car became an airborne missile, and continued screaming until it landed in the deep, murky waters of Lake Eugene.
I tried to open my door, but it refused to budge. My windows wouldn’t roll down either. I pressed the buttons anyway, even the one on the dashboard to turn on the radio, but none of them worked except my hazard lights. I didn’t know I had hazard lights, although I’d read all about them in my driver’s ed class. They blinked on and off, illuminating the darkness around me with an eerie, red, pulsating beacon.
I unbuckled my seat belt and searched for something to break a window with, but couldn’t find anything. I swung my purse at it, pounded it with the heel of my shoe, and even tried stabbing it with my nail file. I reached for my phone to call for help, but it was too late.

As the car filled with water and I gasped for air, the last thing I saw was that awful color on my nails as I scratched and clawed at the window until my fingers bled and everything turned black. As I died, I thought about my parents, and my friends, and all the things I would never get to do, and the fact that Mr. Wan had just lost his very best customer due to his own negligence. I hoped he would be sorry. Thinking about how bad he’d feel gave me just a little peace before I slipped away into darkness.

About the Author:

Wende Dikec has spent her life traveling the world, and collecting stories wherever she visited. She writes in several romance genres, and her books are quirky, light, and fun. Fluent in several languages and married to a man from Istanbul, Wende is a trekkie, a book hoarder, master of the Nespresso machine, and mother of three boys. A puppy named Capone is the most recent addition to her family, and she blogs about him as a way of maintaining what little sanity she has left.







https://www.instagram.com/wendedikec/


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