Monday, December 30, 2013

Liza O'Connor interviews the book A Taste Of Gold by Deryn Pittar.

Today, I'm interviewing Deryn Pittar's book A Taste of Gold.

Space Rep: I didn't know Gold was edible.

Liza: It actually is. There's an ice cream sundae on Earth and the planet Bzar that has gold shavings on top of the ice-cream.  However I don't think this book is about wasting money on stupid stuff. Turn on the transporter and let's get Deryn's book and find out.

Space Rep: Let me get the pizza out first. Okay. Flip switch and here we get.

Liza: Here we get?

Space: Well we aren't going anywhere, we're just getting us a book, so yes, 

Liza: Fine as long as we get the book, say whatever you like.

Liza: Hello and welcome to my spaceship Junkheap. May I call you Gold?

Space Rep: Just say yes. She get's cranky otherwise.

Gold: What just happened? I was happily being read by my author, then I got all tingly, and now I smell like pizza. Please tell me I'm still a book and not a container for pizza, because I had a fabulous story within me.

Liza: You are still a book and I've invited you over so you can tell me about yourself and the fabulous story inside you.

Gold: Invite? I didn't get an invite! I was happily being read one moment and here the next.

Liza: Sorry you didn't get the invitation. But, you are here now, so let's make the best of things. 

Gold: Can you just send me back?

Liza: Absolutely, just as soon as you tell me about your book.  So what makes your book special?

Gold: That would be my characters:
Twin brothers with special talents, 
Two thieves and 
Two Taniwha. 
Add in one pretty reporter and this combination creates the adventure of a lifetime.

Space Rep: What's a Taniwho?

Gold: That's a Taniwha. They are creatures from Maori mythology. It’s pronounced ‘Tanny-far’ and they live in and near waterways. Think of a dragon crossed with an Axolotl, choose your own color and there you have it – a Taniwha!

Space Rep: Cool. So tell me more about the twin brothers.

Liza: Hold on, this is my interview. Gold, please tell me about the twins.

Gold: On a prospecting holiday the brothers discover Otanewainuku,  a Taniwha who gives them ‘humming stones’ in exchange for their silence.

Liza: Their silence about what?

Gold: The location of his secret lair and the fact he lives in a cave with huge seams of gold in the walls. Plus, he collects uncut diamonds which he calls ‘humming stones’. The Taniwha can hear them singing, as can one of the twins.

Liza: So a bond of sort develops between the boys and the Taniwha.

Gold: Yes, and when thieves capture Jason to use his talents, he calls for a Taniwha to help him escape.

Liza: And they do?

Gold: Yes, the two brothers are reunited. So they set off to find enough gold to reward the creature, Kotuku. 

Space Rep: But wh--

Liza: I got it Space Rep. And who is Kotuku?

Gold: This is the name of the second Taniwha. He arrives when the humming stones summon him. He is huge and strong and his silver skin gleams in the moonlight. Kotuku means white heron in Maori.

Liza: Now back to the brothers.

Gold: They hear the Police want to talk to them but if they return to Katikati the thieves may capture Jason again.
Space Rep: But wh--

Liza: I got it. So where does the pretty reporter fit in?

Gold: Abby Hennessy overhears their conversations at the local police station and without their knowledge publishes an article about their finds. This alerts the robbers as to who ‘found’ their hidden caches and put the twins in danger. Only by telling her the facts ‘off the record’ can they prevent her publishing even more of their adventure.

Space Rep: Let me save your life. Liza hates to be asked questions she doesn't know the answer to. Here's what happened to the last author who sent her a blurb with a question in it.

Gold: It's just a stack of books.

Space Rep: Check the top right hand corner.

Gold: Oh no, I love my author. What can I do to protect her?

Space Rep: Simple. Don't ask Liza a question she can't answer.

Gold: If you are wondering if they can sort this mess out, reward the Taniwha and still remain friends with Abby, then read A Taste of Gold and find out.

Liza: Well done, Gold.  Now may I peek beneath your covers and read more?

Gold: This is an action packed book for teenagers. Based on your picture, you appear to only be five and my research says 5 yr olds tend to color books wish crayons. I do not wish to be colored.

Liza: That's just my emotional age. I gave up crayons awhile ago.

Gold: All right just leave me the way you found me, please.

Reluctant Excerpt-No Coloring Please

The morning sun lit the cabin’s cream painted walls, enough to lighten Jason’s closed eyelids and wake him up; that and the roar of a motorbike’s engine. 
Its revving bursts of power made further sleep impossible. He pulled the faded curtain aside just in time to see the bike hurtle past, ignoring the five miles per hour restriction, the rider wove between the pitched tents, onto the narrow sealed road and out of sight. 

There wouldn’t be many campers left asleep now, but it would take more than a noisy engine to wake Levi. Looking at his brother asleep in the opposite bed, Jason couldn’t resist the temptation.  He lifted his pillow and threw it, scoring a direct hit on Levi’s head.

“Wake up.  It’s your turn to be in charge today, bro. If you sleep any longer, you’re wasting ‘boss’ time.”

His brother rolled on to his back and stretched. “Hell, I’m thirsty. How about getting me a drink?” he said.

“Nah, drag your sorry butt out of bed. Let’s go to the communal kitchen and make a cooked breakfast after we’ve hit the showers.  Or you can lie there and make a plan.”

“You’re too full of orders.  Beat it.”

Jason laughed and dodged the returning pillow as it flew at him.  He bounded down the steps, trotting across the grass to the ablution block. He’d almost reached the green concrete-block building when the sound of gems singing stopped him in his tracks.

He could hear several diamonds keening, a sapphire’s contralto and a few rubies singing at a lower pitch. These were the first gems he’d heard since they’d landed, other than those in the duty free shops at the airport. But where were they?  He turned around slowly, locating the direction of the gem-song. There, that way, to the right across the path. He followed the song, immersed in the melody, until he stood next to a dust-covered red car. Somewhere inside this battered vehicle lurked gems, and their value by the sound of their voices would be much more than the car’s value. 

The tone and clarity told him these were cut gems, possibly mounted. He needed Levi to tell him if they sat in silver or white gold, platinum even.  Not that it was any of his business, but it all seemed a bit odd.

A shout from behind startled him. “Hey you. What’d you want?  You looking for something?” The gem-song in his head had deafened the approaching footsteps. He turned around to face the man who towered above him, dark-skinned, sporting a scraggly moustache and a menacing frown with shoulders as wide as a truck. Or so it looked standing in his shadow.

“I’m just admiring your car.”

“You trying to be funny?” The frown lines deepened on the man’s face and his lips curled.

“No, honestly, I like old cars and this one’s a beauty.”

The man straightened, his chest expanded and a smile crept across his face. “Well, she’s a bit dusty, but she cleans up well.  Done nearly three hundred thousand miles, but she tracks along. Rattles a bit, but not bad for a ‘74 Capri.”

Jason nodded his agreement.  “Do you mind if I bring my brother to have a look at her?”

“Sweet as, but don’t be long.  I’m leaving soon.”

“We’ll be right back.”  Jason trotted across to their cabin, all thoughts of a shower pushed to the back of his mind.  He mentally called to Levi as he ran. Out of bed, Levi, I need you – NOW.

No need to shout, I’m on my way. What’s wrong?  His brother’s tousled head appeared around the cabin’s doorway, his lanky frame following like a forgotten set of limbs.  Hopping as he slipped his feet into his thongs, he came down the steps to meet Jason.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s an old car over there,” Jason pointed to the red Capri, “and it’s full of gems. The owner’s a bit dark on people looking at his car, but I told him we liked old cars and asked if you could have a look.  He agreed, but he’s leaving soon. We need to hurry.”

“We? Why me?”

“I think the gems are cut and mounted. Their song is really clear and bright. You can tell me if there’s gold or platinum, or rose gold or something in the car. I reckon the gems are stolen rings and things.”

“He might own them.”

“What? And drive around in a rust-bucket like that when he can afford to own a heap of gems.  Nah.”  Jason began to walk back towards the car, leaving Levi to trail behind. Just pretend to be interested. Okay? I don’t want to spook him.

Got it. I love old cars. Watch me drool.

Back at the car, the twins walked slowly around it, nodding in appreciation, running their hands over the bodywork, leaving trails in the dust and making admiring noises.

Well? Jason queried.

Gold, platinum, and some white gold, I think.  Also some silver because I can taste pineapple and that’s usually silver.  Might have something else mixed with it.  There’s not a lot there, but probably just enough to hold the gems in rings. Might even be a bracelet or a necklace.

The car’s owner stood nearby watching their every move. At last murmuring their thanks the twins wandered off towards the ablution block. “What’re we going to do now? We can’t go to the nearest cop shop and say ‘hey, we know where some stolen gems are’. They’d say ‘Oh yeah, how d’you know that?’”

Jason couldn’t fault the logic of Levi’s comment.  “But this morning a motorbike started up and I looked out the window. The guy driving looked like the monster who followed us yesterday, the marijuana grower. They might be mates?”

“Then they’re both too big and ugly to tangle with. Leave it.”

 “I hate to leave the gems there, Levi. It’s like they’re crying.”

“Bro, you’re too deep. We’re prospectors on holiday, not detectives.
Space Rep: Finally, I got my question answered!

Liza: What question?

Space Rep: What talent the brothers possessed. They are telepathic plus one can hear gems and the other can taste precious metals.

Liza: Next time just ask. I'm sure Gold knew the answer.

Space Rep: Thumps head against spaceship hull.

Liza: Before Space Rep kills us all by rupturing the rusty hull of my junkheap, I'd like to thank you for stopping by and sharing your fabulous self with my readers.

Gold: I didn't--*recalls pic of buried author* --think I would enjoy it as much as I did. May I go home now?

Liza: Of course. Once three days have passed.

Gold: Three days? Why must I stay three days?"

Liza: My invitations are always for three days.

Gold: What invitation. You stole me!

Liza: Nonsense. I can't help it if my invitation didn't arrive. Space mail is very unreliable. Space Rep, what day did you send it out?

Space Rep: I didn't.

Liza: There you go. Highly unreliable. But no matter, you arrived safely and I will return you equally so in 3 days?

Gold: But why can't I go home now?

Space Rep: Liza has the cheapest teleport service available. It allows for one teleport every three days. If used more than that, the object will be transported on a best effort promise. Here's a cat we once transported in on 'best effort'. I've named it Schrodinger:

Gold: I'll wait three days.

Liza: Excellent. Then tell me a bit about your author and provide some links if you will.

A Taste of Gold is Deryn Pittar’s first Young Adult novella. She loved creating the characters in this story, especially the Taniwha (pronounced tanny-far) from Maori mythology. This story has inspired her to write more stories for teenagers in the future.

Deryn, writing as Virginnia De Parte, also pens futuristic fiction, spiced with romance and adventure. She has four novellas published as e-books. Setting her stories in the future allows her imagination to run free, creating characters with unheard-of talents. She also has the pleasure of watching science and technology catch up with her imagination.

She is a published poet. She lives in the aptly named Bay of Plenty, New Zealand; along with four million people and a number of hobbits.

Liza: New Zealand is my favorite place in the whole world. I've no idea how she can write there. I'd be staring out windows and oohing and awwing at the breath taking sceneries, going kayaking, rafting down 21 foot waterfall, glacier hiking, hang-gliding, mountain trekking, dolphin diving, deep-sea fishing, speed boating on rivers, doing very dangerous dives and spins in a helicopter, but never, ever will I bungie jump. We all have our lines we won't cross. 

Space Rep: Found the links. They were in the email, and I've fixed the white out issue.

Buy Links:

Websites: with an author page for Deryn Pittar for my Young Adult novels and poetry

Liza: Well done both of you. Great Teamwork. Those of you with fingers and the ability to keyboard, LEAVE A MESSAGE AND PROVE IT.

Friday, December 27, 2013

Zoe Cannon presents The Torturer's Daughter

Today, I am pleased to host Zoe Cannon and her book The Torturer's Daughter.

Peep Rep: Are you really pleased? Or are you just saying that so her dad won't torture you?

Liza: Ha! Shows how much you know. The torturer is her mom. 

Peep Rep: Oh that's a nice twist. Tell me more. 
OMG!!!! Look at that gorgeous cover! 
It's a work of art!

When her best friend Heather calls in the middle of the night, Becca Dalcourt assumes it's the usual drama. Wrong. Heather's parents have been arrested as dissidents - and Becca's mother, the dystopian regime's most infamous torturer, has already executed them for their crimes against the state.

To stop Heather from getting herself killed trying to prove her parents' innocence, Becca hunts for proof of their guilt. She doesn't expect to find evidence that leaves her questioning everything she thought she knew about the dissidents... and about her mother.

When she risks her life to save a dissident, she learns her mother isn't the only one with secrets - and the plot she uncovers will threaten the lives of the people she loves most. For Becca, it's no longer just a choice between risking execution and ignoring the regime's crimes; she has to decide whose life to save and whose to sacrifice.

It's easy to be a hero when you can save the world, but what about when all you can do is choose how you live in it? THE TORTURER'S DAUGHTER is a story about ordinary life amidst the realities of living under an oppressive regime... and the extraordinary courage it takes to do what's right in a world gone wrong.

Peep Rep: Oh that does sound good! Can we get this?

Liza: Great News on that front: 

Buy Links:

Peep Rep: 99 cents! Even you can afford that.
I found an excerpt. Don't talk while I'm reading.


Becca’s steps slowed as she approached Processing 117. The floodlights of the parking lot shone down on her, exposing her. Past the lot, the darkness threatened to close in. There was no other source of light nearby except for the dim glow of the streetlamps, nothing but trees for at least a mile in every direction.

The concrete structure loomed taller than its five stories—maybe because of the invisible presence of the underground levels, or maybe because in a moment Becca was going to have to walk inside.
Heather can’t have been arrested. If she were a prisoner, they wouldn’t have let her call.
But when Becca remembered the panic in Heather’s voice, the thought wasn’t all that reassuring anymore.

Becca took the last few steps across the not-quite-empty parking lot. The windows of the upper floors glowed in a patchwork of lights, showing who was working another late night and who was at home sleeping… or down on the underground levels. 

Becca knew that in one of those dark offices, a phone had been ringing off the hook for the past half-hour, its owner oblivious to Becca’s pleas for her to answer, to find Heather for her, to fix this.
Becca reached the double doors of the entrance—and froze. Her heart thudded against her ribcage.
Heather is in there, she reminded herself. Heather needs me.

She pulled the doors open and stepped inside.
The doors slammed shut behind her, the noise echoing off the stark white walls. Security cameras stared down at her from the ceiling. The guards, one to either side of the metal detector, pinned her to the floor with their eyes, but said nothing.

Opposite the metal detector from Becca, the room was bare except for a huge metal desk with corners that looked sharp enough to cut. Behind the desk, a dark-haired woman with a headset clipped to her ear stopped mid-yawn and jerked up to face her.
Becca held her breath and stepped through the metal detector. Its light flashed green, and one of the guards waved her forward. She let her breath out and stepped up to the desk.

She eyed the woman’s crisp gray suit, and the desk that gleamed like it had never seen a speck of dust in its life. Then she looked down at her own clothes, the jeans and wrinkled t-shirt she had grabbed from her dresser after hanging up with Heather. She crossed her arms around her stomach.
The receptionist’s bleary surprise had vanished, replaced by a stone mask. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for…” Becca bit back the name on her lips. No. If she were in her office, she would have answered the phone. Anyway, Becca could imagine her reaction at finding out about this midnight walk to 117. Becca was on her own.
“…Heather Thomas,” she finished. “She called me half an hour ago and told me she was here.”

The receptionist’s expression didn’t tell Becca anything.

“She’s here… somewhere… she called me…” Becca’s voice trailed off. I’m not doing anything wrong, she told herself. I’m not a dissident. Heather’s not a dissident.

Which led Becca back to the question that had been circling through her mind since she had gotten Heather’s call. What was Heather doing here?
The receptionist turned away and tapped something out on her keyboard. It only took her a few seconds to find what she was looking for. She typed in something else and touched her earpiece. “We have a detainee in temporary holding,” she said to someone Becca couldn’t see. “Last name Thomas. Her file says she’s waiting for a relative to collect her. Right, that’s the one. Someone forgot to collect her phone, and she called a friend.” A pause. “No, that won’t be necessary. Just confiscate the phone.”

She turned back to Becca. “Heather Thomas is waiting for her guardian to arrive. Are you Lydia Thomas?” She gave Becca a skeptical once-over.
Becca considered saying yes, but even if the receptionist weren’t going to ask for proof, there was no way she could pass as Heather’s… aunt, she remembered after a moment. Aunt Lydia, the one who always looked at Becca and Heather like being in high school was catching.

The receptionist took her silence as an answer. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Becca wanted nothing more than to do just that. But she couldn’t leave and let this place swallow Heather. “If she’s waiting for her aunt to get here, I can wait with her until she shows up.”

“I’m sorry,” said the receptionist, already turning back to her computer. “The policy is clear. The detainee will remain in temporary holding—alone—until her guardian arrives.”

Becca was losing ground. And somewhere in this building, Heather was waiting for her. “I’m not trying to take her home or anything. I only want to…” To make sure she wasn’t locked away underground. To make sure they hadn’t gotten her mixed up with somebody else, some dissident slated for execution. “…to let her know I’m here. I promised her I’d—”

“Your refusal to leave the building when instructed will be recorded.” The receptionist placed her hands on her keyboard. “May I have your name?”

“At least tell me what happened. Why is she here? Is she all right?”

“Your name, please,” the receptionist repeated.

If she stayed much longer, the receptionist would order the guards to drag her out—or worse, in. She could end up in one of those underground cells… She shivered. They couldn’t do that to her just for asking about Heather, right?

“Your name,” the receptionist repeated again, with a glance toward the guards.

Becca slumped. “Rebecca Dalcourt.”

The receptionist blinked.

“Well,” she said, her voice suddenly warmer, “I suppose we can make an exception.”


Peep Rep: Oh I definitely have to read this.

Liza: Me too.

Peep Rep: Okay, but I get to read it first.

About the Author:
Zoe Cannon writes about the things that fascinate her: outsiders, societies no sane person would want to live in, questions with no easy answers, and the inner workings of the mind. If she couldn't be a writer, she would probably be a psychologist, a penniless philosopher, or a hermit in a cave somewhere. While she'll read anything that isn't nailed down, she considers herself a YA reader and writer at heart. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband and a giant teddy bear of a dog, and spends entirely too much time on the internet.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Jessica Subject discusses Aliens. Sexy or Scary

I'm headed off in search of sexy Santas like the ones Jessica Subject finds. These aren't homegrown HoHoHos, these are aliens. And while I'm gone, Jessica is going to discuss various types of aliens that won't and will make a sexy Santa. She's an expert, so pay attention!

Aliens – Sexy or Scary?
Thank you very much, Liza, for hosting me the day before Christmas.

Hey, Santa is yet another story I wrote about sexy aliens, and the first in a series of sexy alien holiday stories. But for me there have always been the two types of extraterrestrials, those who want to help, and those who want to harm. Obviously the people of our planet will be more receptive to aliens if they are similar to us, humanoid. We can relate to them, understand how they work. And these are the aliens I include in my stories.

But there are several other types of aliens included in fiction that scare the bejezzes out of me. And, of course, they’re usually portrayed as some completely foreign looking creature that could be robotic, tentacled, insect-like, or something else our minds can’t even imagine.

Here are some of the movies with the scariest aliens I’ve seen portrayed:
1. Signs – I have never had a movie scare me so much. I don’t think it helped that I lived in a house surrounded by corn fields at the time.

2. Fire In The Sky – Okay, maybe this one scared me just as much as Signs. Maybe even more.

3. Body Snatchers – The same idea is seen in The Host, but I must prefer the aliens in that movie than in Body Snatchers.

4. Dreamcatcher – Based on a book by Stephen King, I couldn’t even finish the book let alone watch all of the movie.

5. War of the Worlds – This movie didn’t scare me as much, but the thought of this type of aliens coming to Earth... Don’t want to think about it.

I know there are several more that are much more scary, but I don’t like to watch those movies. LOL
Instead of worrying about these creatures visiting Earth, I like to think about the sexy ones. Here are some of the aliens I find sexy in movies:

1. Superman - #1 of all time.
2. Spock – Pointy ears and all, I love Zachary Quinto as Spock
3. Hancock – Okay, I have a thing for Will Smith whether he plays a human or an alien.
4. Hans Solo – Who can resist a bad boy?
5. Jake Sully in his Avatar body
So, tell me, do you think aliens are scary or sexy? What aliens from movies are most memorable for you?

Hey, Santa
An Alien for the Holidays story
By Jessica E. Subject
Erotic Sci-Fi Romance
ISBN: 978-0991932016

Great News!
Hey Santa is free at
All Romance
Dec 25 & 26th!

Available From:
Amazon (US/Canada/UK) | All Romance | B&N | iTunes | more
“Please, Claire.” Tiffany rubbed her arm. “Will you ask him already? I saw him before he changed into the suit. He’s hot. And he has to be patient since he works with kids. If this doesn’t work, I’ll never get on your case again.”
“Fine,” she grumbled. A bad date has to be better than sitting at home by myself. “This is the last time. No more double dates or trying to set me up with a guy in any way.”

Tiffany held out her baby finger. “Pinky swear.”

After sealing the promise, Claire patted the puffy skin under her eyes. “Is my makeup running?”

“No, you look beautiful, as always.” Grabbing her shoulders, her friend spun her around. “Now, go get him before he’s swarmed by a bunch of kids. And hopefully, soon he’ll fill your stocking with all kinds of Christmas cheer.”

Her cheeks warmed. She wanted more than a night of fucking, though that wouldn’t hurt, either. But Santa? Really? What was she supposed to say? Hey, Santa, I saw you bending over, and I think you have a nice ass. Want to go out sometime?

Andreas blinked, trying to wrap his head around what the sexy woman in front of him had just asked. He’d stared at her miles of long legs showed off by black tights, and her full, glossy lips, but he never expected her to leave her friend and come over, let alone ask him on a date. The only women who ever approached him were already married and concerned about the results of their child’s picture with Santa Claus. Or, the single moms who thought he’d make a great baby daddy. Um, no.

She doesn’t want a lot for Christmas…

Claire Otton dreads spending another holiday alone. When her best friend convinces her to approach the sexy mall Santa, she takes the chance and asks him out, hoping for so much more.

He’s waiting under the mistletoe…

Although Andreas Castellanos blends in on Earth, he knows he will never belong. But when the gorgeous woman he’d been staring at invites him to dinner, he has a hard time saying no.

All they’re asking for…

Can these two lonely souls find magic together or will their secrets steal their chance of a happy Christmas?

“You want to go out on a date? With me?” he asked.

Jessica Subject is the author of contemporary and science fiction romance, ranging from sweet to erotica. In her stories, you could meet clones, or a sexy alien or two. You may even be transported to another planet for a romantic rendezvous. 
When Jessica isn't reading, writing, or doing dreaded housework, she likes to get out and walk. Fast. But she just may slow down if there is a waterfall nearby.
Jessica lives in Ontario, Canada with her husband and two energetic children. And she loves to hear from her readers. You can find her at and on twitter @jsubject.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Can Mars Save us from deep freeze?

As I shared in Keplar DoneBroke blog, we’ve lost our ability to hunt for earth like planets to escape our coming deep freeze

Our sharp eyed Keplar is nearsighted now and can no long find us a better planet to occupy.

 It was always a long shot anyway. To build a ship that could fly for 800 years to a new location seemed ‘iffy’ given all the problems we’d have to face: 
Bone mass reduction, 
Cabin Fever/People going bonkers in space, 

(Not making that up. Turns out they exist, only I don’t know a great deal about them. Evidently scientists discovered space quakes in 2012 when one hit Earth.  Do you recall anyone mentioning that? Because I sure don’t.) I'll deal with this at a later time.

Now back to the problems our ship might have: It could break down, miniscule particles could pierce the ships membrane, or small particles could create serious breaches in the hull. Hopefully, we’ll have some way to avoid the bigger stuff.

We won’t be able to send enough people in the ship to ensure human viability, since we tend to be a highly defective species. Nor do we have the space to put thousands of people into deep sleep. 

However, we can probably store sperm and eggs from a variety of hopefully smart, sane people that didn’t get to come. Warranty stops after 10 Years for sperm and embryos, so we may have a critical problem here. Until we figure out how to live and prosper on big ships in space, we need to travel locally to Mars or Saturn's moon, Titan.

Oceans of methane have been verified on Titan by another of our Space robots. (Methane--Can we say heating source?) Good thing since Titan moon is really cold. -290 F anyone? But we might have a water shortage since it rains liquid Methane there.
Frozen and thirsty. Doesn't sound very good.

So let's not go there.
In comparison, Mars is a balmy -200F to 70F.  Which means it can be pleasant at times.

Scientist have recently evaluated the amount of radiation all those cute little robots like Curiosity  got on the journey over and how much they receive daily on the planet. The resulting analysis says a crew could survive the 180 day flight to Mars, a 500 day stay, and the 180 day return with just a 5% or so increase in getting cancer. 500 days is ample time to build something that could provide us protection from radiation, allow us to breathe air, and give us warmth. I'm thinking of some type of dome. We'll probably need to bring all the parts and assemble it there. But we'll need to bring everything required to build it. 

Forget one nail and we are screwed.
There will be no stopping by the Home Depot for an extra lug nut. 

I know, there’s a common belief that Home Depots are everywhere, and yes, they did build one on Mars due to marketing research that said it would be our future suburb planet. But that never panned out and there was one other small problem which required them to close the store.

So how are our Martians going to LIVE for 860 days?

I don’t know. I don’t think NASA knows. Probably why it’s slated for 2030.

Maybe we should work harder at saving Earth...

Naaaaa.... we'll never agree on a solution.

Well, this is a bit worrisome. Historically, the deep freeze has plummeted quickly. We could be frozen popcycles in 28 years…so NASA's planned launch may be just a tad lad to the party.

So here’s my advice.
Live each day as if it’s your last.
Enjoy Life to the fullest.
Be kind to others, generous, and loving.
That way if you die
(and for most of us, it’s a question of when, not if)
Then you will die feeling good about yourself.

And if you are still alive come thirty years from now,
You will be a better person for all your years of niceness and when they get around to sending peeps to Mars some of your sperm or eggs may get to go.

I know I promised a solution, but the more I delved into the matter, the less probable it seemed. 

Perhaps NASA is further ahead than we know. Maybe it's just me being kept in the dark.

It's possible they are going to bag the whole defective human thing entirely and send AI robots to populate Mars and Titan.

I mean look at Curiosity:

He appears to have a fashionable hat, two eyes, a long roundish nose, a mustache, and thin lips with a narrow chin.
He's discovering emotions. Using all his cameras, he made this picture of himself.  Notice how he is the center of his world? Curiosity has discovered the emotion of vanity.

Could Curiosity be our future 'human'? I wonder if a million years from now Curiosity will be considered the primitive creature from which true humans evolved. The carbon based species buried under 27 miles of ice coating the pretty white planet with a thick methane & CO2 atmosphere.

And Curiosity 2000 will return when the planet thaws and name it EARTH.  The descendants of Curiosity will arrive and study the strange carbon based creatures discovered deep within the thawing ice and name them dodo mammals. 

BREAKING NEWS Europe has launched 2 telescopes to planet hunt in the Milky Way. While I doubt they plan to save any Americans if they find a viable planet to run off to, the human race will still survive.

Oh, who are we kidding. Curious robots will be all that's left, wandering around Mars.