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H.M.H.’s 2024 Year in Books
Take a look at H.M.H.’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
H.M.H. Murray’s Followers (5)
H.M.H. Murray
Goodreads Author
Born
The United States
Website
Twitter
Genre
Member Since
May 2024
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Navvy Dreams (Tales From a Stinking, Star-Crossed Milky Way #1)
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published
2024
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4 editions
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Navvies' Flight (Tales From a Stinking, Star-Crossed Milky Way #2)
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
Author Blog! HMH Murray
As I'm polishing up NAVVIES' FLIGHT for December publication, I wanted to give readers the opportunity to comment on the previous volume.
Feedback is everything for a debut novelist, and even if you don't want to leave a review or a rating, I'd love to hear what you think. By all means, leave a public review if you want--reviews are everything too--but I thought this might be helpful if you'd like Read more of this blog post »
Feedback is everything for a debut novelist, and even if you don't want to leave a review or a rating, I'd love to hear what you think. By all means, leave a public review if you want--reviews are everything too--but I thought this might be helpful if you'd like Read more of this blog post »
H.M.H.’s Recent Updates
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H.M.H. Murray
is now friends with
Adam McPhee
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"The Moon explodes and for the human race to survive they must ignore the obvious solution of living underground on Mars until it can be terraformed and instead add hundred of modules to the International Space Station and cram in as many people as th"
Read more of this review »
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H.M.H. Murray
liked
OldBird's review
of
Navvy Dreams (Tales From a Stinking, Star-Crossed Milky Way #1):
"If you like your books to challenge you rather than just present a 3 act narrative, then this is the start of a sci-fi space opera with an unreliable narrator made for you. It reminds me of Joan D. Vinge's Snow Queen (and has convinced me that despit"
Read more of this review »
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"If I described this book as "human woman gets kidnapped by a bug creature and made to perform in a hunger games situation for the right to marry him" it would give entirely the wrong impression. It is that, yes, but it's also about how a good heart i"
Read more of this review »
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H.M.H. Murray
answered
Goodreads's
question:
Do I have plot armor? If so, Westeros. If not, definitely NOT Westeros. We've seen some awesome planets lately in the Star Wars-verse, although a bunch were also blown up, so they're out... maybe Majipoor. It's gigantic. Lots to see.
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H.M.H. Murray
made a comment on
Lawrence’s review
of
Navvy Dreams (Tales From a Stinking, Star-Crossed Milky Way #1)
"
I hope I can redeem it for you with the sequel :)
"
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H.M.H. Murray
wants to read
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Jan 03, 2025 02:30PM
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H.M.H. Murray
wants to read
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“Stars, Sam. We mucked it. I mean, I mucked it. And not just for us.
Yet I recall pure joy: your bike hot between my legs, your arms locked ’round my waist. I recall poor Second’s chiding before I blinked it off. I recall laughter and all of those soldiers from someone else’s war standing on that terrace singing yet another Terran victory rag.
You told me later that you didn’t know I’d make a run at the canyon wall ’til I torqued it, thumbing your bike’s twin throttles hard enough to singe our legs as the acceleration turned into an increasing roar. By the time we hit fifty, I couldn’t even hear you yelling at me to stop over the wind.
I didn’t think you were serious. We’d climbed that mesa in daylight when we were younger, smaller, bendier. We’d done it with safety rails and belts, with hoverbikes that floated back down like carnival balloons when we failed; we’d done it with our parents cheering and a Grass Priest standing watch in case we needed healing. That run should’ve been a lark, Sam. But the night was dark as space, and our planet has no moon.
You grabbed hard as I pulled the yoke. The engines screamed. I meant to pull up, climb that mesa vertically—see if we could rocket to the top before I gunned again like we’d done a hundred times as kids. But I timed it too late. I saw the mesa wall in our headlamps, and then everything went black. The next thing I recall is waking up on the Unity ship Ascendant with Ken’ri Mureen of Glos smiling down at me. Those big round eyes in her lovely, lying face.
I thought I’d surely killed you, Sam, but Mureen swore you were fine. Mureen swore removing my Second was only temporary—swore surgery would fix the soup the crash had made of my brain. She made me sign forms, and then Ma came in with pastries. I still didn’t believe you’d made it out, but Ma swore it too.
You know the gist after that—mostly—but there’s a lot I never told—”
― Navvy Dreams
Yet I recall pure joy: your bike hot between my legs, your arms locked ’round my waist. I recall poor Second’s chiding before I blinked it off. I recall laughter and all of those soldiers from someone else’s war standing on that terrace singing yet another Terran victory rag.
You told me later that you didn’t know I’d make a run at the canyon wall ’til I torqued it, thumbing your bike’s twin throttles hard enough to singe our legs as the acceleration turned into an increasing roar. By the time we hit fifty, I couldn’t even hear you yelling at me to stop over the wind.
I didn’t think you were serious. We’d climbed that mesa in daylight when we were younger, smaller, bendier. We’d done it with safety rails and belts, with hoverbikes that floated back down like carnival balloons when we failed; we’d done it with our parents cheering and a Grass Priest standing watch in case we needed healing. That run should’ve been a lark, Sam. But the night was dark as space, and our planet has no moon.
You grabbed hard as I pulled the yoke. The engines screamed. I meant to pull up, climb that mesa vertically—see if we could rocket to the top before I gunned again like we’d done a hundred times as kids. But I timed it too late. I saw the mesa wall in our headlamps, and then everything went black. The next thing I recall is waking up on the Unity ship Ascendant with Ken’ri Mureen of Glos smiling down at me. Those big round eyes in her lovely, lying face.
I thought I’d surely killed you, Sam, but Mureen swore you were fine. Mureen swore removing my Second was only temporary—swore surgery would fix the soup the crash had made of my brain. She made me sign forms, and then Ma came in with pastries. I still didn’t believe you’d made it out, but Ma swore it too.
You know the gist after that—mostly—but there’s a lot I never told—”
― Navvy Dreams
“Hindsight holds no clue, even as it tries to make logic from chaos. A fool’s task. With Kamen-lords, both physics and reason are forever suspended...”
― Navvy Dreams
― Navvy Dreams
“Our Smuggler’s Handbook recommends disarming a dangerous situation by ignoring it, and so I was trying--”
― Navvy Dreams
― Navvy Dreams
“Hindsight holds no clue, even as it tries to make logic from chaos. A fool’s task. With Kamen-lords, both physics and reason are forever suspended...”
― Navvy Dreams
― Navvy Dreams
“Our Smuggler’s Handbook recommends disarming a dangerous situation by ignoring it, and so I was trying--”
― Navvy Dreams
― Navvy Dreams
“Stars, Sam. We mucked it. I mean, I mucked it. And not just for us.
Yet I recall pure joy: your bike hot between my legs, your arms locked ’round my waist. I recall poor Second’s chiding before I blinked it off. I recall laughter and all of those soldiers from someone else’s war standing on that terrace singing yet another Terran victory rag.
You told me later that you didn’t know I’d make a run at the canyon wall ’til I torqued it, thumbing your bike’s twin throttles hard enough to singe our legs as the acceleration turned into an increasing roar. By the time we hit fifty, I couldn’t even hear you yelling at me to stop over the wind.
I didn’t think you were serious. We’d climbed that mesa in daylight when we were younger, smaller, bendier. We’d done it with safety rails and belts, with hoverbikes that floated back down like carnival balloons when we failed; we’d done it with our parents cheering and a Grass Priest standing watch in case we needed healing. That run should’ve been a lark, Sam. But the night was dark as space, and our planet has no moon.
You grabbed hard as I pulled the yoke. The engines screamed. I meant to pull up, climb that mesa vertically—see if we could rocket to the top before I gunned again like we’d done a hundred times as kids. But I timed it too late. I saw the mesa wall in our headlamps, and then everything went black. The next thing I recall is waking up on the Unity ship Ascendant with Ken’ri Mureen of Glos smiling down at me. Those big round eyes in her lovely, lying face.
I thought I’d surely killed you, Sam, but Mureen swore you were fine. Mureen swore removing my Second was only temporary—swore surgery would fix the soup the crash had made of my brain. She made me sign forms, and then Ma came in with pastries. I still didn’t believe you’d made it out, but Ma swore it too.
You know the gist after that—mostly—but there’s a lot I never told—”
― Navvy Dreams
Yet I recall pure joy: your bike hot between my legs, your arms locked ’round my waist. I recall poor Second’s chiding before I blinked it off. I recall laughter and all of those soldiers from someone else’s war standing on that terrace singing yet another Terran victory rag.
You told me later that you didn’t know I’d make a run at the canyon wall ’til I torqued it, thumbing your bike’s twin throttles hard enough to singe our legs as the acceleration turned into an increasing roar. By the time we hit fifty, I couldn’t even hear you yelling at me to stop over the wind.
I didn’t think you were serious. We’d climbed that mesa in daylight when we were younger, smaller, bendier. We’d done it with safety rails and belts, with hoverbikes that floated back down like carnival balloons when we failed; we’d done it with our parents cheering and a Grass Priest standing watch in case we needed healing. That run should’ve been a lark, Sam. But the night was dark as space, and our planet has no moon.
You grabbed hard as I pulled the yoke. The engines screamed. I meant to pull up, climb that mesa vertically—see if we could rocket to the top before I gunned again like we’d done a hundred times as kids. But I timed it too late. I saw the mesa wall in our headlamps, and then everything went black. The next thing I recall is waking up on the Unity ship Ascendant with Ken’ri Mureen of Glos smiling down at me. Those big round eyes in her lovely, lying face.
I thought I’d surely killed you, Sam, but Mureen swore you were fine. Mureen swore removing my Second was only temporary—swore surgery would fix the soup the crash had made of my brain. She made me sign forms, and then Ma came in with pastries. I still didn’t believe you’d made it out, but Ma swore it too.
You know the gist after that—mostly—but there’s a lot I never told—”
― Navvy Dreams
