Happy New Year!

I hope you're having a wonderful, restful time with friends and/or family. And may your best holiday wishes have come true. The New Year is right around the corner. And so is my novel deadline. So, I may have to cut back on the number of posts per week on this site for a while. I'll keep up with Feminist Monday because I feel it's a service to the community at large, and giving back is important. However, the Wednesday and Friday posts will be spotty until I can turn in my manuscript. It's a good thing. A shiny new SF novel will come out of it. So, there's that. Oh, and because New Year's falls on Monday I'll be taking that day off. So, the next Feminist Monday post will be January 8th. Sorry about that. I'll probably pop in a few times between then and now. (I won't be able to help it.) Just expect the unexpected for a bit. 

Since Persephone Station is going to call me away for a while, it's only fair that I give you a small excerpt. I hope you enjoy it. I'll drop it behind the Read More tag. Once again, I hope you're having a wonderful, safe, and restful holiday. May 2018 be better to you and yours. 

From Persephone Station (my work in progress):

There were conflicting rumors about how Monk’s got its name. The most likely story, according to Enid Crowe—Angel’s second in command, was that the building had once been part of a Catholic Federation monastery. She claimed that the cross-shaped floor plan and other telltale architectural details were a dead give-away. Given that Enid possessed no less than three advanced degrees—one of them in architecture and another in interplanetary history—Angel believed her. In any case, it would explain Rosie’s eccentric decorating choices. 
    The cavernous interior was draped in polysilk velvets, glass bead curtains, and antique furniture replicas dating from the Catholic colonial era. The back bar was an eclectic mixture of pieces that had once been housed in various now de-sanctified cathedrals. Nestled among the rows of liquor bottles was a genuine tabernacle. Angel considered it an interesting choice of symbolism given what transpired there.
    Exactly two types of people drank at Monk’s back bar: members of a rather exclusive criminal class and those who sought to employ them. Naturally, a more public section of the establishment was available. The place had a certain reputation, and Rosie, like any other businessperson, wasn’t adverse to profit. The public section of the establishment attracted wannabe criminals and a specific breed of tourist: mainly rich Earthers of a short-sighted political inclination and a romantic perspective involving military grade munitions ownership.
    Angel was, whether she liked it or not, a member of the first set and as such, there were rules by which she had to comply.