thrillers

STILL Not Smarter Than A Cervid

/ Diane Henders / 14 Comments

Remember how I heaved a sigh of relief when the deer finally left our yard?  And remember how I speculated that Mother Nature must have finally decided I’d been punished enough?

Ha.

I’ve always suspected Ma Nature has a sadistic streak, so it was with a sense of inevitability that I discovered more damage in my garden last month.  Only this time it was serious. 

Every morning I trudged miserably out to catalogue the newly-denuded stumps of cherished fruit trees, veggies, rose bushes, and other ornamentals… despite the 8-foot-tall fence around our yard.  Every afternoon I added more fortifications, until the yard was crisscrossed with complex mazes of fencing and netting. The deer got more and more brazen, strolling around and chowing down on the garden even in broad daylight.

Hubby and I sharpened into a precision tactical team.  With a single cry of “Deer!”, we both rushed for the door:  I (carrying my Gel Blaster) to open the gate; and Hubby stealthily circling around from the rear.  Then I fell back and together we stalked the deer, easing it toward the gate and then opening fire with shouts and soft-gels to drive it through.

We kicked that deer out of the yard several times a day, and every evening.  Each time the deer would trot across the road before slowing… and then circling right back.  And it kept getting back in, throwing itself at the fence until the wire ripped from its posts and it could scramble over.  The garden was decimated, and I felt besieged.  What the hell was wrong with this damn deer? We’ve lived here seven years and no deer has ever attacked the fence before.

At last, all was revealed when Hubby glimpsed the deer in the woods:  It wasn’t an ‘it’; it was a ‘she’.  And she had a fawn.  No wonder we couldn’t keep her out.

Without much hope, I purchased a deer call to simulate doe grunts.  The salesman at Cabela’s openly laughed at me, and in my heart of hearts I knew he was right:  There was no way I was going to be able to lure the baby outside the fence.

But the very next morning, Mother Nature (and Mother Deer) finally relented.  I looked out the window and there was Mom in the yard… with two fawns gamboling after her.  Absolutely adorable!  And, more importantly, positioned so that we could herd them out the gate.

After all our practice, it was ridiculously easy.  Mom knew the drill by then.  In fact, I’m pretty sure she was counting on us to open the gate so she and her babies could leave the nursery.  The operation was accomplished in only a few minutes, and they trotted calmly away into the forest.  As Mom flicked her tail nonchalantly in our direction, I read the thought-bubble above her head:  “Stupid humans.”

And I hardly even minded, because the fawns were SO cute.  (And SO GONE!!!)

But I haven’t relaxed.  In just a few short weeks, the fawns will be old enough to jump almost as high as the mother.  I really hope they’ve forgotten about our yummy garden buffet…

Book 18 update: I’m beginning to wonder if this book is cursed. Every time I start to make progress, something else goes haywire. But despite demonic deer, a forced transfer to a completely new publishing distributor, some necessary updates to book covers and promos, “fire-smarting” our house and yard for the current wildfire season, AND another round of medical appointments for my cranky back… I’ve managed to complete Book 18’s plotting! Stay tuned for writing progress, hopefully soon. 🙂

AI’d

/ Diane Henders / 38 Comments

There’s been a lot in the news lately about Artificial Intelligence and how AI is disrupting the writing and publishing industry. 

When AI-written “stories” first appeared a couple of years ago, authors scoffed.  AI-generated stories were bad.  Really bad.  Whew, nothing to worry about.

But…

We didn’t know that the creators of AI had scraped up a giant library of books (without paying for them) and fed them to the hungry AI machine.  And recently, I’ve seen excerpts from AI-written books that were… not awful.  Or at least, not substantially more awful than a lot of human-written books.  For one thing, AI usually uses correctly-spelled words in appropriate context, which is refreshing for a word-nerd like me.

What’s not-so-refreshing is the knowledge that AI is gunning for our jobs.  Maybe not so much for fiction writers (yet), but I’d be nervous if I was a non-fiction writer. 

Hell, I’m nervous anyway.  Even if AI-written fiction never quite matches the quality of human-created fiction (and I don’t see any reason why it won’t eventually… or next year), Amazon is already being flooded with millions of AI-generated books.  Some of them even steal an established author’s name and put it on the cover; so be wary if you discover that your favourite author has unexpectedly released a new book or ten.

From a reader’s standpoint, AI-generated books would be a boon.  AIs never have to take time off from writing for injuries or illness or family crises. And why wait a year or more for a human author to release their next book, when AI can pump them out faster than any human can read?  Maybe the books aren’t as “good”, but “good” is so subjective that it’s nearly irrelevant.  I’ve struggled through some human-produced fiction that’s so bland it might as well have been computer-generated.

When I was a kid, nobody had heard of AI except farmers… and they knew AI meant Artificial Insemination.  Today’s AI has a lot in common with the original meaning:  We’re all gonna get thoroughly screwed; it won’t be any fun; and we won’t even get a kiss first.

But being human means I’m capable of stubbornly ignoring unpleasant facts. Since it’s far too late to slap the lid back on this particular Pandora’s Box, I’m going to just keep writing and hoping for the best.  In fact, I’m going to get really subversive here and imagine a happy outcome! 

Courts have already ruled that AI-generated works can’t be copyrighted (at least so far — this is a very new area of copyright law). So maybe in some rose-tinted fictional future, the proceeds from sales of AI-generated works will be divvied up and distributed to human authors.  Seems only fair, since the AIs learned to write by reading our books in the first place.

Hey, I can dream, right?

P.S. I hear you asking, “How can I support a human author when I’ve already bought all their books?” Answer: Thank you for supporting human authors! If you want to help, introduce your favourite books to your friends, and post about your faves on social media. Every mention helps! (Some authors have donation buttons on their websites, too. I haven’t felt comfortable doing that yet, so I welcome your thoughts about it.)

Book 18 update: I’m on Chapter 20, sneaking up on the halfway point! Aydan is struggling to put out metaphorical fires that seem to pop up every time she turns around. But then, what else is new?

Ten Years Off…

/ Diane Henders / 32 Comments

You know the expression “That took ten years off my life”? I know the feeling well — I’ve had quite a few experiences that felt as though they’d shortened my life. That ‘ten years’ must be metaphorical, though; otherwise I’d be dead already.

Nearly drowning at a swimming lesson (there’s irony for you), getting cornered by a guy much larger than me, having my dirt bike’s brakes fail on a steep mountain trail: Thirty years gone right there.

Watching a steel lawn dart (which I had thrown) plummet toward my sister’s head: That must have taken at least twenty years off my life. If I had yelled a warning and she had stopped and turned, I probably would have scored a bullseye on her brain and this story would have had a tragic ending. Fortunately I was paralyzed by horror and she was walking away, so the only end that suffered was hers: I scored a bullseye on her butt. It’s funny in retrospect (as long as you’re not my sister), but at the time it was terrifying.

Okay, no; it’s still terrifying. I love my sister, and just thinking of ‘what might have happened’ makes my stomach clench. I don’t know whether the patron saint of idiot kids was on my side that day, or whether her guardian angel was working overtime; but, yikes! *shudder*

Having a bear sniffing around outside my tent in the middle of the night: Ten years. Seeing a funnel cloud bearing down on our house: Ten years. Getting a phone call saying, “Your husband has a head injury and the ambulance is taking him to the hospital now”: Ten years… no; actually about thirty. But I’m deducting a couple of decades after the fact, because fortunately Hubby was fine. (Except for six hours of amnesia where he didn’t know where he was and he asked the same three questions every five minutes. Those were lo-o-o-ong scary hours.)

A couple of weeks ago I took another ten years off my life, but this time the process was much more relaxing: Instead of abject terror, I used Photoshop.

Yep, it’s time for another cover update for the series — it’s hard to believe it’s been over ten years since Book 1 was published! And since I’ve never been thrilled with the image for Book 1, I decided to change it as part of the new look, too.

Posing for the covers seemed like a good idea at the time: The model is always available, and I never have to pay her. But unlike Aydan, who has only aged two years since 2010… well… let’s just say I’m not forty-eight anymore. Thank goodness for Photoshop’s ability to erase a decade! (Or thereabouts. No need to elaborate.)

Here’s the new look:

The updates should start appearing in retail channels in the next few weeks.

What’s new in your world this week?

Book 18 update: My time has been spent on cover updates lately, but I’m on Chapter 7 and looking forward to getting back into my writing routine!

’Zon-derwear

/ Diane Henders / 30 Comments

We live almost an hour away from the nearest city, so when we can’t find what we need in the local small-town stores, we order from Amazon. Their delivery service is usually fast, cheap, and trouble-free.

Until last week.

I was expecting a package containing a watch band, a walking foot for my sewing machine (Andrew, I’m blaming that purchase on you), and a pair of bypass pruners. The package was scheduled to be delivered on Friday, and it arrived right on time.

But when I opened it… no pruners. No watch band or sewing gadgets. Nope; instead I’d gotten a 4-pack of men’s underwear. Black.

My brain short-circuited. I double-checked the address label. Picked up the undie-pack and turned it over a couple of times; because maybe if I looked at it from a different angle, it might turn into the things I’d actually ordered. (It didn’t.)

Then I thought, “Could this be a gag gift from a fan?”

It’s not as far-fetched as you might think. I love hearing from my readers, and every now and then I get a letter containing a tongue-in-cheek reference to John Kane’s famously well-packed black underwear. (Hmm, given the subject matter, maybe ‘tongue-in-cheek’ isn’t the most appropriate expression here.) Anyhow, the point is that occasionally I discuss men’s underwear with random strangers; which theoretically could lead to *ahem* unusual gifts.

But I checked the order status, and it showed that the delivery was indeed ‘my’ parcel.

So I called ’Zon and they quickly resolved the issue, with a few giggles on both sides. My original items were re-shipped, and the agent assured me that I didn’t have to return the underwear.

You might be thinking, “Score for Hubby: Four free pairs of undies!” But no; the undie size (you know I wanted to say ‘package size’) is XS: Extra-small. Hubby is not.

So I guess I’ll donate the ’Zonderwear to the local homeless shelter. I can see it now: A middle-aged woman sidles in and hands over a single pack of extra-small men’s underwear. Sounds like the start of a joke… or a novel. Hmmm, there’s a thought…

Any surprises in your world this week?

Book 18 update: I’m on Chapter 3, and Aydan has just had some comfortable assumptions shattered.

And… the series book trailer is finished, woohoo! See below:

…And I Missed It.

/ Diane Henders / 31 Comments

Update Jan. 23/22: Just a heads-up — I didn’t mean to scare anybody off the booster shot, and I’m sorry if I did. I’m just a freak, and I’ve reacted hard to ALL the shots, including the booster. Meanwhile, Hubby and all my friends just breezed through it. So don’t be afraid — if your first two shots went fine, your booster should, too. 🙂

*

Well, it’s been an interesting couple of weeks… as far as I know. To be honest, I was stoned and I missed it.

I knew in advance that I wasn’t going to enjoy my COVID booster shot. My second shot had made me feel as though somebody had thumped me in the back for a day, and my arm hurt for three days. So when I woke up at midnight feeling like I’d been repeatedly kicked in the armpit with a pointy-toed shoe, I wasn’t surprised. I took an acetaminophen and went back to bed to tough it out. Next came pain in every joint. Then fever. For the next twenty-four hours, I watched the clock and gulped acetaminophen at the exact minute my next dose was allowed.

I almost never take acetaminophen, and I was surprised at how dopey it made me. I guess it wasn’t a bad thing in retrospect: I was miserable, but at least I was stoned. I didn’t even bother trying to work that day; just lay around and binge-read. After four books and most of the day, the fever subsided and I went to bed knowing the worst was over.

The next day I was fine, except that somebody had apparently sneaked into our bedroom overnight and replaced my armpit lymph nodes with red-hot pebbles. Painful, but an improvement overall.

Until the insanely itchy rash appeared.

No good ever came from a conversation that begins with “Let me tell you about my rash”, so I won’t. But it turns out that antihistamines make me even dopier than acetaminophen. For most of the day, I stayed in the kitchen baking because I had to stay on my feet. If I stopped moving, my eyelids dropped shut. And I read the recipes VERY CAREFULLY. Over and over. Even though I’ve been making them at least once a month for the past couple of decades. Yes, I was that stoned.

But I’m pretty sure I was doing it wrong, because these guys look like they were having ’way more fun than me:

(I’ll have what they’re having, please.)

Anyhow, I’m finally back to normal; or as normal as I ever get. So, hmmm… I wonder what I should do for a high this week?

Marijuana is legal here, so I guess I could try that; but I’ve heard it causes the munchies. I have a permanent case of the munchies even when I’m stone-cold sober, so that could get scary. If my next post contains nothing but a photo of me nesting in a pile of empty Doritos bags with a beatific smile and crumbs all over my face, you’ll know what happened.

Actually, y’know what? Maybe I’ll skip the weed and go straight to guacamole corn chips. And Cheezies. And sour-and-cream-and-onion potato chips… Mmmm… now that’s my kind of high!

What’s your “food drug” of choice?

Book 17 update: Despite my ongoing back problems and my chemically-altered downtime, I still managed to make a bit of writing progress. I’m on Chapter 12, and charming liar Ian Rand has just messed with Aydan… again.

“You Seem Like Such A Nice Person…”

/ Diane Henders / 34 Comments

The other day I was talking to an acquaintance who mentioned that he was almost finished my latest book (Spy In The Sky).  He said he was enjoying it just like he had the previous ones; but then he added, “You always seem like such a nice person, and then I’m reading your books with all that sex and violence…”  He trailed off.

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond.

I guess it’s good to be seen as a nice person; although ‘you seem like a nice person’ is a very different statement than ‘you are a nice person’.  But that unfinished sentence sounded a lot like it might be completed by, “…and then I realized you’re actually just a scary pervert, gotta-go-goodbye-don’t-call-me!” 

Come to think of it, he didn’t stick around long after saying that, either.  Hmmm.

I generally keep a tight rein on my dirty mind and potty mouth when I’m in public because I don’t like to upset people unnecessarily.  But then new acquaintances think that’s what I’m really like; and nothing could be further from the truth. 

I mean, I like to think I am basically a nice person:  I try to be kind and patient, I offer a helping hand and a listening ear wherever needed, I donate and volunteer, and I’ve never once eaten a kitten or puppy for breakfast.  Or any other meal (or snack).

But when the wrench slips off the bolt and my knuckles hit solid steel at high velocity, nobody would ever call me ‘nice’.  ‘Shockingly vulgar and potentially violent’, maybe.

So that’s my dilemma:  Is it better to horrify and repel new acquaintances by letting it all hang out right off the bat?  (That’s ‘letting it hang out’ in the linguistic sense, not the physical – I do have some boundaries.)  Or should I lull people into a false sense of security, only to shock the shit out of them later?

I’ll let the philosophers decide…

Update: I’ve known this acquaintance for a while, and he has an offbeat sense of humour. He was teasing, and I thought the whole thing was funny. I meant this post to be funny, too; but realized afterward that it might be misconstrued. I hope nobody was upset; and if so, I’m very sorry. I should have mentioned that I was chuckling while I wrote this! 🙂

The Big Drop

/ Diane Henders / 40 Comments

Guess what I did last week?

If you guessed ‘skydiving’, you’re right… and oh-so-wrong.

Yes, I got trussed into a tandem skydiving harness by Gord from Skydive Vancouver Island. But that’s as far as it went; although I did have a moment of panic when he finished tightening the harness and said, “So, we’ll be taking you up now?”

He took one look at my expression and burst out laughing as I yelped, “No!”

Why did I get into the harness if I wasn’t going to jump, you ask? (Okay, maybe you didn’t ask; but I’m going to tell you anyway.) Because… *drumroll* …I was doing the cover art for Book 16, which will be available for pre-order in only a few short days, hooray! The only ‘drop’ was the impending drop of the book.

Digression: I’m not sure why everybody uses ‘drop’ when referring to the release of movies or music or books these days, but here we are. I was tempted to title this post ‘The Long Drop’, but since ‘long drop’ is Aussie slang for a hole-in-the-ground toilet, I refrained. (Barely.)

Anyhow, in SPY IN THE SKY, Aydan unwillingly goes skydiving. I had a lot of fun writing those scenes, but I have to admit that my chief enjoyment came from the fact that I didn’t actually have to experience it. I’ve done most of the stunts Aydan tries in my books, but I draw the line at skydiving.

Gord told me the attachment points on the harness will hold a combined weight of 1500 pounds, and statistics say skydiving is actually safer than the drive to the airport. If I could completely, 100%, trust that the parachute would open and I’d stay attached to my instructor, I’d probably give it a try. But I have serious trust issues, so I don’t think I’ll ever jump out of a perfectly good airplane at any altitude greater than two feet.

I’m pretty sure my depiction of the experience is close, though, because Gord was kind enough to give me a crash course (sorry, couldn’t resist) in what it’s like to skydive. Many thanks to Gord and Allison for the generous donation of their time and expertise!

Would you ever skydive? Have you? Inquiring minds want to know!

To be released May 7, 2021:

When secret agent Aydan Kelly investigates a disgraced CIA agent, he insists he was only following orders.  Four days later he mysteriously dies while in custody.

Aydan suspects that a CIA director committed murder to hide his profitable connection with an international arms dealer.  As she digs deeper, Aydan knows she’s on the right track when assassins start trying to kill her.  But when the arms dealer deposits twenty million dollars in her bank account, suspicion veers toward Aydan.

With only three days left before she’s jailed for treason, Aydan fights to stay alive, capture the elusive arms dealer, and clear her name.

Want to get an email with purchasing links when pre-orders are available and when the book is officially released? Click here to sign up for my New Book Notification list.

Silver Tea and Senior Moments

/ Diane Henders / 31 Comments

My grandmother (Dad’s mother) was a poised and gracious woman. I never heard her raise her voice; never saw her make any movement that was rushed or awkward. She was unfailingly kind and polite, with a gentle sense of humour. When she finally had to enter a care home after a devastating stroke, the staff affectionately nicknamed her “Queen Bea”. It suited her perfectly.

One of her little quirks has stayed with me all my life: Her preference for ‘silver tea’.

You won’t find silver tea in any internet search, because there’s no such thing. Maybe Grandma developed her taste for it during the war(s) or the Depression years when everything was either rationed or beyond their budget, or maybe it was just her preference; but its recipe was simple: A cup of hot water.

When offered coffee or tea, she’d smile and respond with her usual humorous twinkle: “I’ll just have silver tea, thank you.” And she’d pour herself a cup of hot water from the kettle. It became one of our family quips, and to this day I often drink silver tea when I don’t feel like brewing actual tea.

But the other day I inadvertently made ‘real’ silver tea. I didn’t think that was possible, since it doesn’t actually exist; but I managed it. I always have several tea infusers on the go, and I usually get two steepings from each. I’d brewed a cup of pumpkin pie rooibos in the morning, and decided to go for Round Two in the afternoon. I grabbed the infuser, dropped it into my mug, and poured boiling water over it. A few minutes later I checked on it, only to find no pleasant spicy aroma at all.

Yep, I’d accidentally grabbed an empty infuser. I wonder if I can market that as “Steeped Silver Tea”?

Normally I’d worry that I was showing early signs of ‘senior moments’ (and yes, I’m flattering myself by pretending I’m much too young for that). But since I was in the final throes of finishing Book 16, I wasn’t too concerned. After a decade of writing novels, I’ve come to accept that I simply don’t have enough brainpower to immerse myself in writing the final chapters of a book and stay on top of all the details of daily life.

Which leads me to my big announcement for this week: The draft of Book 16 is DONE, woohoo! It’s already been passed by my first speedy beta reader, and we have a title: Spy In The Sky. I’m hard at work on a blurb and cover art, and hopefully pre-orders will be available in a couple of weeks.

And soon (with any luck) my wrung-out brain will return to normal and I’ll drink silver tea by choice instead of by accident.

What’s your favourite cup of tea?

Book 16 update: The draft is done, and beta reading and final edits are speeding along. Then it’ll be into proofreading and production. Stay tuned for a cover reveal and release date!

(Want to get an email when Spy In The Sky is available? Click here to join my New Book Notification list.)

Wait, Who Is This?

/ Diane Henders / 29 Comments

One of the cool things about being a fiction writer is that I’m constantly learning new things.  Some are interesting and useful; some are boring but necessary; and a few are downright disturbing.  Sadly, the disturbing ones can never be purged from my brain.  (Like the photo of the naked woman holding a severed pig’s head that I discovered back in 2013 when I was looking for cover art for Book 6.  Why?  Why???)

But mostly my new discoveries are fascinating and fun.  F’rinstance, until I decided to publish the Never Say Spy series as audiobooks, I knew nothing about ‘voice artists’.  My narrator, Michelle Armeneau, has opened my eyes (or rather, ears).

What a talent!  She makes each character’s voice distinctive by subtly modulating the pitch, cadence, accent, speed, and forcefulness of her speech.  I’m blown away by her ability to create unique voices, because I have absolutely zero vocal ability.  I don’t have a great track record with voice recognition, either.

I have a few friends with similar voices who occasionally phone and start chatting without identifying themselves.  If I’ve grabbed the phone without checking the call display, it can get awkward. When somebody’s yakking away like we’re best friends (and I’m pretty sure we are), I’m embarrassed to stop them and ask, “Wait, who is this?”

Plus, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings by not recognizing their voice, so I try to figure out who it is by the context of the conversation. Usually that works, but sometimes it backfires badly when I’m long minutes into the conversation and still have no idea who’s on the other end of the line.

Then I have to do the Talk of Shame: “Um, hey, it’s been great gabbing to you all this time, but… I have no idea who you are.”  I’m sure most normal people don’t have this problem, but ‘normal’ is another one of those admirable qualities that seems beyond my grasp.

Anyway, Michelle and I have always communicated via email, and a few weeks ago we decided to have our first phone conversation.  I’d like to proudly point out that, having just finished reviewing eleven hours of Michelle’s narration, I recognized her voice instantly.

I’d like to point that out; but I can’t.  The truth is that if I hadn’t been expecting her call at the appointed time, I wouldn’t have known who it was.  I thought her speaking voice would be the same as her narrative voice, but that’s yet another persona.  I’m in awe!

And a bit worried.  If she ever decides to mess with me, she could call me with a different voice every day and I’d be doomed to repeat the Talk of Shame over and over.

Fortunately, she’s far too nice to do that.  And she’s far too busy to waste time on prank calls — she’s hard at work narrating Book 4.

Yes, it’s true: Book 3 is now available in audiobook, and Book 4 is under way – woohoo!  Thanks, Michelle!

Get REACH FOR THE SPY on Audible

Middle-aged bookkeeper Aydan Kelly never wanted to moonlight as a spy, but she doesn’t have a choice. Working with computer networks in a secured building sounds safe, but it turns out the job’s a killer – literally.

When Aydan’s trusted co-worker is shot while committing an apparently treasonous act, Aydan embarks on a secret mission to clear his name.

But her investigation casts suspicion on the director of operations himself. If he’s a double agent, Aydan’s in more danger than she ever imagined…and national security hangs in the balance. 

The Smarter I Think I Am…

/ Diane Henders / 45 Comments

One of the blessings/curses of being a fiction writer is that I spend a lot of time surfing the internet for my research.  (Other people waste time on the internet, but I’m doing research.  Honest.)

I’ve gone down all sorts of rabbit holes, but it really messed with my mind the day I discovered illusory superiority and the Dunning-Kruger Effect.  Dunning and Kruger’s tests showed that the less competent a person is in any given field, the more likely they are to think they’re an expert.

Yep, the dumber we are, the smarter we think we are.  (Which explains why 90% of drivers think they’re better than average.  You math majors, stop giggling.)

When I first read about that study, I had an ‘Aha!’ moment:  At last I understand why there are so many idiots out there who think they know everything.  It’s immensely annoying to those of us who do.

Oops…

Seriously, though, I know I’m not good at everything.  In fact, I know I suck resoundingly at a lot of things. But in the things I think I do well…

What if I’m just too stupid to know the difference?

Thanks for nothing, Dunning and Kruger. You’ve made me second-guess everything I once thought I knew.  And seeking constructive criticism won’t help:  Apparently there’s another cognitive bias that lets people believe only the parts of criticism that they want to hear, while disregarding the uncomfortable bits (i.e. the information that could actually help them improve).

So now that my brain has been twisted into a particularly unattractive macrame project, I’m really glad I live out in the country so I can wander around mumbling to myself without anybody calling the nut-catchers. (Fortunately Hubby is used to me mumbling to myself, so I’ve got a free pass there.)

Anyhow…

I have no illusions of superiority in the field of graphic design.  So I’m hoping that all you brilliant readers will help me: I’m thinking of updating the covers for the Never Say Spy series.

I still like the current covers, but the latest trends lean toward lots of colour and bold fonts. Also, the current covers don’t hint that there’s a sense of humour in the stories, and I’m wondering whether a different design might draw in readers who aren’t necessarily looking for a hardcore shoot-’em-up thriller.

Here are the original and proposed covers side by side — what do you think?

Please click on the poll below to vote.  The first five questions are for everyone, and the last question is only for people who have actually read the series.  And if you have any other comments or suggestions, I’d love to hear them — please drop them in the comments section of this post.

Thank you so much for your help!  🙂