Darcia Helle's Blog, page 30
November 18, 2021
New Release Spotlight — THE EX’S BOYFRIEND by Hurri Cosmo
Mark has always been a Dominant. The Top in every relationship. Just ask Leon, his very ex-boyfriend, because that’s what he told Mark he was.
Okay, Mark’s only had the one relationship so the ‘always’ was a reach, but it didn’t matter. It was more than over with now, and Leon was long gone. That is until Leon felt it necessary to show off his new boyfriend, a gorgeous mountain called Rogan, by evidently telling him that Mark was stalking, bullying, badgering, harassing and get this, abusing him.
“He’ll kill you, Mark, because he loves me and wants to protect me.”
From whom? Skinny little Mark? What a joke. Because all Mark has ever done was exactly what Leon told him to do and that now included staying as far away from Leon as he could get. But how can he do that when Leon is hell-bent on proving all the lies he’s told Rogan about Mark were true, and by any means possible except the actual truth? Thankfully, it seems Rogan’s not quite as clueless about Leon’s wild imagination as Mark has always been. In fact, the big, beautiful man has come to Mark’s rescue a couple of times and has made it clear, Leon and he are not a thing. At least, not anymore.
Which is good since Mark is going to need Rogan’s help. Mainly because something else is out to get Mark. Something not Leon.
This something isn’t even human…
THE EX’S BOYFRIEND
Hurri Cosmo
Publishing Company: Hurri Cosmo
Release Date: Tuesday, November 2 2021
Cover Artist: Soxsational Cover Art
BUY LINKS:
Amazon
Smashwords
They took the elevator to the sixth floor and headed cautiously down a deserted hall. Okay, maybe it was only Mark who walked warily. Rogan marched slightly ahead of him and seemed to barge down the hall with his chest puffed out like some storybook bodyguard protecting the prince. However, no apparitions flew out at them this time, no lights exploded trying to kill them. When they got to Mark’s apartment, Rogan snatched the set of keys Mark dug out of his pocket and opened the door of 612 and attempted to turn on the light.
“It doesn’t work,” Mark remarked. “It never has.”
As if that might have been important in the whole scheme of things, Rogan turned to him. “Really? Why?”
“I have no idea. They have never been able to fix it, either.”
Rogan grumbled a string of profanities against landlords as he pulled out his phone. “Hey Raptor. Flashlight.” The phone shot out a bright beam and Rogan shined it into the apartment. “Where is a switch that does work?”
“Right here.” Mark glanced around the apartment before he tiptoed over to the switch in the kitchen and turned it on. The apartment lit up enough to see that everything was normal―so to speak. The destroyed TV was right where it had been when they left, debris still everywhere. Not the chaos Mark had walked into with Leon, but shivers of that time chased through him as well. “What I don’t get is why you don’t even have a scratch on you.”
“That is a mystery,” Rogan murmured. “What’s even more an unknown is why you were basically sliced in the first place. Cut, I would understand. But sliced?” He walked over to the large, jagged piece laying against the wall, the piece that had been laced with blood but no longer appeared to be and picked it up. “This should never have been sharp enough to do that.” He brought it over for Mark to see.
“Fuck,” Mark whispered as he gazed at the piece of plastic. “It’s… like a knife.” And it was. The six-inch, razor-edged side appeared paper thin, to the point of it being see-through. As if someone had purposely honed it down to that sharpness. “But… didn’t it have blood on it?”
Rogan narrowed his eyes and glared back at the plastic as if it had just lied to him. “You’re right. It did. Exactly my point.”
“Which is?”
Rogan glanced briefly at Mark. “This isn’t right. I mean, how does something like this even happen?” Rogan’s lips pursed together.
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m not sure.” Rogan gazed down at Mark. “And I don’t like not knowing. I will find some answers. That I promise.” He sighed. “Now what do we need to take with us so we can get out of here?”
Mark packed a backpack while Rogan kept watch. Mark would have thought it laughable if he wasn’t so panicked. It was one thing to be bullied by Leon. Quite another by a ghost.
“The extra apartment key is in the kitchen drawer,” Mark told Rogan as he threw the backpack over his shoulder.
Rogan immediately reached over and grabbed the backpack. “Go get it. I got this.”
Heat climbing Mark’s face he walked quickly to the drawer. “I can carry it. I’m not a princess.”
Rogan smirked but remained silent as he adjusted the backpack and held out a hand to accept the key. “Thanks,” he said, winking at Mark when he dropped the key in his hand.
“I don’t know what you plan on doing but have at it.”
Rogan grimaced as if he were guilty of something and shook his head.
When they arrived at Mark’s dad’s house, Rogan insisted on walking Mark in. “I didn’t keep you safe like I promised. He deserves an explanation.”
“Are you kidding me? I’m not some fragile teenager on a date. Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“I know that. But security is my job, and I should have…”
“Should have what?”
“Known.” He knocked on the door.
“Known? How? Why?”
But Rogan remained silent. Except it was clear he was battling something in his head.
“Whatever,” Mark mumbled. “Just… I can take care of myself.” Mark went to knock as well but the door flew open in front of him, Mark’s dad standing on the other side.
“What the fuck is going on out here?” Rob snarled, startling both Mark and Rogan.
“Sir!” Rogan nearly shouted back, gaining the older man’s attention. Then he lowered his voice probably realizing how loud he was being. “Mr. Corda. Sorry to wake you…”
“What the hell happened to you?” Rob grabbed Mark and pulled him into the house. “Why the bandages?” He turned his attention back to Rogan. “Why is my son covered in bandages?”
Mark took immediate offence. “Dad, I’m standing right here! Ask me!”
“Um… sir…” Rogan interrupted. “it’s a long story.”
About the AuthorI am Hurri Cosmo and I live in Minnesota where I hold tight to the idea that here, where it’s cold a good part of the year, I won’t age as fast. Yep, I avoid the truth as much as I avoid mirrors. But one of the reasons I love writing is reality doesn’t always offer up a “happily ever after” and being able to take control of that is a powerful lure.
Being a happy ending junkie, writing just makes them easier to find. Oh, I don’t mind “real life” and I do try to at least keep it in mind when I write my stories, but I truly love creating a wonderful couple, knowing they will fall in love and have their HEA. Every – single – time. And, of course, that is exactly the reason I love reading this genre, too.
Give me a glass of red wine, some dark chocolate, and my computer, whether I am reading or writing, and I will entertain myself for hours. The fact I actually get paid to do it is Snickers bars on the frosting on the cake.
SOCIAL LINKS:
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The post New Release Spotlight — THE EX’S BOYFRIEND by Hurri Cosmo appeared first on Quiet Fury Books.
November 17, 2021
Book Review — DEAD ON MY FEET by Patricia Broderick
Milo is dead. And Nellie Bly has to write his obituary. Not exactly what she was hoping for when she left her post as the local weather girl in Kansas for a posh Southern California beach side community. But as more and more upstanding citizens of La Joya turn up dead in ghastly ways, Nellie and her pals at the Coastal Crier join forces with Detective Wendy Nakamura to follow the murderous trail of a ruthless cartel that traffics in endangered wildlife.
When Nellie’s eccentric landlady, former B-movie actress, Dame Catherine Cavendish, begins to drop hints that threaten to bring to light the dark secrets of the village, unsettling incidents begin happening at the Cavendish estate, endangering the motley crew of scribes. Greed, betrayal, vengeance, gangsters and old Hollywood glamour make for great copy—if Nellie can stay alive long enough to meet her deadline.
Dead on My Feet is a quirky tongue-in-cheek adventure that will leave you breathless.
Published: June 2021
My ThoughtsDead on My Feet is a comedic mystery that’s a fun romp through a murder investigation.
I enjoyed the newspaper setting, with writers from a weekly paper no one respects chasing down the biggest story in town.
The cast of characters intrigued me, but I thought they tended to be two-dimensional. I would’ve liked more complexities.
Overall, an entertaining read if you’re looking for a light, humorous mystery.
*I received a free copy from CamCat Books.*
The post Book Review — DEAD ON MY FEET by Patricia Broderick appeared first on Quiet Fury Books.
November 16, 2021
Looking for some holiday intrigue? — CHRISTMAS VENDETTA: An Emergency Responders Novel by Valerie Hansen
Is she a mistaken target…or next on an enemy’s hit list? Sandy Lynn Forrester’s Christmas holiday takes a terrifying turn when someone breaks into her home and attacks her roommate…thinking it’s her. But no one believes that an imprisoned man from Sandy Lynn’s past is behind the attacks—except for her high school heartbreak, ex-cop Clay Danforth. Can she trust Clay to keep her safe in the Ozark wilderness long enough to stop a ruthless criminal’s vengeance?
Release Date: November 30, 2021
ExcerptThe lack of explanation from Clay caused her to glance over at him. Instead of paying attention to her, he was frowning and looking in the car mirrors.
Sandy Lynn whipped around as far as her seat belt would allow. Since the snow had stopped, more people had ventured outside, evidently to take advantage of the respite. The street was crowded. “What? What do you see?”
“Probably nothing.”
“Okay,” she drawled, “then why are you making scary faces?”
“I’m not.” Clay flashed her a lopsided smile. “This is my normal face.”
“Maybe it’s the black-and-blue eye socket that makes you look odd,” she said, not believing that excuse for an instant.
Again he stayed silent. She felt the car begin to accelerate. The tires slipped in the slushy street, and they fishtailed several times before Clay got it under control.
“Okay. That does it. What is going on?”
“We’re being followed,” Clay said as he sped up, sliding again and again. “I’m heading for the police station.”
“Finally, something that makes sense.” Bracing with her left hand on the dash, her right gripping the over-the-door assist handle, Sandy Lynn did her best to anchor herself on the seat.
Clay turned corner after corner until she was unsure of their position. “I thought you said—”
A hard smack jolted her car and snapped her head back against the support at the top of the seat. She wanted to shout orders at him, to tell him how to get them out of this situation, but truth to tell, she didn’t have a clue.
Prayer would be good, she reasoned, if she had the words to pray or knew what to ask for.
Survival leaped into her thoughts as she called out wordlessly to her heavenly Father.
The car was hit again. Clay righted it.
A harder smash followed quickly.
Clay hollered, “Hang on!”
They went airborne, diving nose-first into a drainage ditch.
Sandy Lynn saw his head snap forward just as the airbag engulfed him. The passenger side of the dated vehicle was not equipped with crash protection, so the seat belt was the only thing keeping her from flying through the shattering windshield.
Breathless and shocked, she just sat there, wondering if this was as bad as it was going to get or if their pursuers were going to stop to finish them off.
The post Looking for some holiday intrigue? — CHRISTMAS VENDETTA: An Emergency Responders Novel by Valerie Hansen appeared first on Quiet Fury Books.
COVER REVEAL — WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW by Susan Furlong
Unrelenting psychological suspense with a wicked twist …
Mona Ellison is living a dream life. A successful husband, loving son, beautiful home, an amazing group of friends … you could say that everything is perfect.
Until it isn’t.
When her son becomes entangled with the wrong crowd, ditches college plans, and runs away from home for a life of partying, Mona is upset, but boys will be boys, right? He’ll be back as soon as his money runs dry. At least that’s what she tells her friends.
Only she suspects something different.
Then the police knock on Mona’s door. A young girl has turned up dead, and her missing son is the prime suspect.
Determined to reunite with her son and prove his innocence, Mona embarks on a search that puts her on a twisty trail of social media clues and a rollercoaster ride of lies and betrayal until she lands on a truth that changes her perception of everything. Now, the only thing Mona knows is that she can’t trust anyone … not even herself.
Book Details:About the AuthorGenre: Psychological Suspense
Published by: Seventh Street Books
Publication Date: 05/17/2022
Number of Pages: 240
ISBN: 1645060403
Susan Furlong is the author of several mysteries including the acclaimed Bone Gap Travellers series, and SHATTERED JUSTICE, a New York Times Best Crime Novel of the Year. She also contributes, under a penname, to the New York Times bestselling Novel Idea series. Her eleventh novel, THE PERFECT FAMILY, will release in May 2022. She resides in Illinois with her husband and children.
www.SusanFurlong.com
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Instagram – @susanfurlong
Twitter – @Furlong_Sue
Facebook – @SusanFurlongAuthor
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The post COVER REVEAL — WHAT THEY DON’T KNOW by Susan Furlong appeared first on Quiet Fury Books.
New Release Spotlight — GUILD BOSS: A Harmony Novel by Jayne Castle
When Lucy Bell is kidnapped after a celebration in the lively city of Illusion Town, she is left wandering the endless maze of the underground Dead City. She’s promptly found by Guild Hunter Gabriel Jones but being rescued is only the start of her problems, as no one believes she was kidnapped in the first place. With her reputation aboveground in tatters, Lucy’s life quickly begins to unravel. The last thing she expects is for Gabriel to come back to town for her.
But the Lucy that Gabriel finds is much different from the one he rescued. This Lucy is sharp, angry, and more than a little distrustful of Gabriel. With a killer hunting her, Lucy quickly realizes that the only person she can rely on is Gabriel—both to believe she’s telling the truth and to protect her from the danger that followed her back home.
Release Date: November 16, 2021
Excerpt“I assume you found me because you followed Otis?” Lucy said.
Gabriel took a healthy bite of pizza. “He certainly got my attention.”
“How?”
“He approached me in the Dead City ruins near the Storm Zone Wall about an hour ago. I was trying to locate the staircase you might have used to go into the Underworld.”
She thought about that for a beat. “You knew where to start the search? Sounds like my message to Veronica got through. Amazing. The kidnappers drugged me at the reception, you know.”
“Did they?” Gabriel said, his tone a little too polite.
She knew disbelief when she saw it. She sighed and reminded herself he had no reason to believe her version of events.
“By the time they put me in a cab I was hallucinating wildly,” she continued. “When I got out of the cab I was at the edge of the Storm Zone, so I ran for the nearest hole-in-the-wall. I managed to get on my phone long enough to leave a message for my friend Veronica. I knew she was working that night. I only had a few seconds. No time for a detailed message, so I texted my location.”
“Storm Zone Wall.”
“Right.”
“The cops told me that much. They said that when your friend saw the text she didn’t know what to make of it at first. She thought maybe you were at an after-party that was being held near the Storm Zone. When she got home in the morning, she realized you hadn’t returned. She filed a missing persons report, but the police wanted to wait the usual twenty-four hours before they got serious about opening a case. Evidently your friend insisted they send a search and rescue team into the ruins to start the search immediately.”
Lucy smiled. “People, especially men, tend to do what Veronica wants them to do.”
“I haven’t met the lady, so I’ll take your word for it. Your father was notified, and he put pressure on the locals, as well. The result was that after forty-eight hours of searching the ruins and the nearby neighborhoods, the authorities decided they needed outside help. The Cadence Guild was contacted.”
“And here you are. I must admit this is pretty damn impressive rescue work.”
“I lucked out when Otis showed up with the pizza. He was wearing this around his neck.” Gabriel reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and took out a dainty black crystal necklace.
A thrill of relief splashed through Lucy. “That’s mine. The bride gave identical necklaces to all of the bridesmaids. After Otis showed up with the first pizza delivery, it occurred to me that someone might notice the necklace and follow him down here. I gave it to him.”
Gabriel nodded appreciatively. “It was a good plan. It worked.”
“I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I was trapped in this room. The kidnappers took my handbag, my wrap, and every piece of nav amber that I had on me. They didn’t bother with the necklace, because it wasn’t amber. How long have I been gone? I’ve lost track of time.”
“The wedding reception was three nights ago.”
Lucy glanced at the stack of empty pizza boxes. There were five of them. “That’s what I was estimating. Otis arrived soon after I crashed in this chamber. I’ve been waiting for the effects of the drug to wear off before trying to follow him back to the surface. But every time I think I’m coming out of the fog, I get hit with another wave of hallucinations. The visions are absolutely unbearable when I get close to the entrance.”
From GUILD BOSS published by arrangement with Berkley, an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC. Copyright © 2021 by Jayne Castle.
About the Author
Jayne Castle is a pseudonym for Jayne Ann Krentz, author of more than fifty New York Times bestsellers. She writes contemporary romantic suspense novels under the Krentz name, as well as historical novels under the pseudonym Amanda Quick. Learn more online at www.JayneAnnKrentz.
Photo Credit: Marc von Borstel
The post New Release Spotlight — GUILD BOSS: A Harmony Novel by Jayne Castle appeared first on Quiet Fury Books.
November 15, 2021
New Release Spotlight — THE LAST SPEAKER OF SKALWEGIAN by David Gardner
Professor Lenny Thorson lives in a defunct revolving restaurant, obsesses over word derivations, and teaches linguistics at a fourth-rate college with a gerbil for a mascot. Lenny’s thirty-four years have not been easy—he grew up in a junkyard with his widowed father and lives under a cloud of guilt for having killed another boxer as a teenager.
Desperate to save his teaching career, Lenny seizes the opportunity to document the Skalwegian language with its last living speaker, Charlie Fox. Life appears to have finally taken a turn for the better…
Unfortunately for Lenny, it hasn’t. He soon finds himself at war with Charlie, his dean, a ruthless mobster, and his own conscience.
A genial protagonist will keep readers enticed throughout this amusing romp.
~ Kirkus Reviews
Book Details:Genre: Humorous Thriller, Academic Setting
Published by: Encircle Publications, LLC
Publication Date: September 8th 2021
Number of Pages: 308
ISBN: 164599239X (ISBN13: 9781645992394)
Purchase Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Goodreads
Book Trailer:
Read an excerpt:
“Why document the Skalwegian language?” Charlie Fox asked. “The answer to your question should be obvious: I want to save the language of my Scandinavian ancestors and preserve their culture for future generations. I’m no longer young, and if I don’t act soon, Skalwegian will disappear forever. And give Professor Lenny Thorson a lot of the credit. He’s a linguist—I sure couldn’t do the job without him.”
The Last Speaker of Skalwegian, Newsweek
Chapter 1Weegan
A word in the Skalwegian language loosely translated as butthead (impolite usage)
Lenny Thorson watched the red pickup roar into the parking lot, a statue propped up in back. It was the Ghurkin College mascot, an eight-foot-tall gerbil.
Charlie nudged Lenny. “You sure you want tenure at a college with a rat for a mascot?”
“It’s a gerbil. And yes, I do. Jobs are scarce.”
Gerry Gerbil stood on his hind legs and stared into the distance, a football clutched in his right front paw, his rat-like tail draped over his left. He looked hot and humiliated.
Lenny too felt hot and humiliated, and he guessed that Gerry hated parades as much as he did. Lenny tugged his sweaty shirt away from his chest. It was a sunny September afternoon, with heat waves shimmering off the blacktop in front of the building where he lived. He badly wanted the day to be over.
The pickup swung around with a screech of tires and backed up to Lenny’s beat-up Chevy. Two college students in matching black muscle shirts stepped out. Brothers, Lenny guessed. They were a wide-shouldered pair with mussy brown hair and long ears.
Lenny reached out his hand. “I’m Lenny Thorson and this is Charlie Fox.”
“Yeah, I know,” the taller one said, glanced at Lenny’s outstretched hand, then climbed onto the back of the pickup and untied the statue.
Lenny and Charlie dragged the wood-and-papier-mâché gerbil from the bed of the pickup, boosted it atop Lenny’s car and stood it upright.
One brother thumbed his phone while the other fed ropes through the open doors and around the mascot’s ankles.
The boy was careless as well as rude, Lenny told himself, and he was tempted to order him to untie the ropes and start over, but Lenny hated confrontation. Once he was around the corner and out of sight, he would stop and retie the knots. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to Gerry Gerbil.
On second thought, did he really give a damn?
Charlie threw his right leg over his motorcycle, gripped the handlebars and bounced once in the saddle. He wore jeans and a T-shirt that read ‘So Are You!’ He nodded toward Gerry. “He looks like a weegan, and so will you when you parade him through the center of town.”
Lenny hadn’t yet learned that word in Skalwegian. “Weegan?”
“‘Butthead.’”
Lenny nodded. He was a weegan.
Charlie looked particularly worn and shrunken today, Lenny thought, especially astraddle his beefy black Harley. His hair was gray, his skin leathery, his chin neatly dimpled from Iraqi shrapnel. He was fifty-one—seventeen years older than Lenny—and eight inches shorter.
At six feet four, Lenny was always embarrassed by his size. He wished he could go through life unnoticed. He wondered if Gerry Gerbil ever felt the same.
The shorter brother slapped the mascot’s foot. “Have fun at the parade, professor.”
Both brothers laughed.
Lenny didn’t expect to have fun. His gut told him that the day would go badly.
* * *
Bob One wasn’t happy about whacking a professor. He specialized in crooked bookies, wise guys who’d flipped, and casino managers caught skimming. But never a civilian. Bob One believed in upholding the ethics of his profession.
He parted the tall tan grass at the side of the road, pinched a mosquito off the tip of his nose and peered westward. No cars yet, but the guy who’d hired him had said his target always took this route on his way into town and would have to slow to a crawl here at the switchback. Bob One figured he’d have plenty of time to pop up, rush forward, blast the guy at close range, then get the hell back to Chicago where he belonged.
* * *
Lenny eyed the brothers, now slouched against his car’s front fender, both lost in their phones. He couldn’t remember ever seeing them on the Ghurkin College campus, the fourth-rate institution an hour west of Boston where he taught French and linguistics. “I didn’t catch your names.”
The taller one glanced up. “You don’t know who we are?”
Lenny shook his head.
The boys exchanged puzzled looks. The taller one said, “I’m Tom Sprocket, and that’s my brother Titus.”
The names sounded familiar, but Lenny didn’t know where he’d heard them. He could memorize entire pages of the dictionary in one sitting, but he was terrible with names.
Tom pocketed his phone and looked Lenny up and down. “Did you play football in college?”
“No,” Lenny said.
Tom snickered. “Afraid of getting hurt?”
“I was afraid of hurting someone else.”
Tom snorted. “Man, that’s all the fun.”
No, it’s wasn’t, Lenny told himself. Hurting someone wasn’t fun at all. Twenty-one years ago, while fighting underage with a fake name, he’d killed an opponent in the boxing ring. Guilt still clung to Lenny, ate into his soul.
Tom gestured with a thick thumb over his shoulder toward the office building behind the parking lot. “You live on top of that thing?”
Lenny nodded.
“You’re weird, man.”
Lenny stiffened. He did feel weird for living in an abandoned rotating restaurant atop a ten-story insurance building, but didn’t particularly enjoy being told so.
But in spite of Tom’s rudeness, Lenny wouldn’t let himself get angry with the boy or even with Dean Sheepslappe who, for some reason, insisted he participate in the Gerry Gerbil Alumni Day Parade, even threatening to block his tenure if he refused. Lenny had grown up angry, had fought with rage in the ring, but after that last fight, he’d promised himself he would never again lose his temper. Some people found this strange, Lenny knew, some sweet. Others used his good nature as a way to take advantage of him. Lenny knew that too.
Titus Sprocket smirked and said, “I heard the place starts up running sometimes all on its own.”
The Moon View Revolving Restaurant had failed financially in just six months, when its motor took to speeding up at random moments, knocking staff off their feet and sending diners sliding sideways off their booths and onto the floor. Lenny moved in shortly afterwards. He was paying minimal rent in the abandoned restaurant in return for serving as its live-in caretaker. He found it oddly comforting to be the world’s only linguist who inhabited a rotating restaurant. “Sometimes it makes a couple of turns in the middle of the night,” Lenny said, “then shuts down. It’s no problem.”
It was in fact a problem. When the deranged motors and gears got it into their head to noctambulate, they did so with a terrific bellow and jolt that made Lenny sit up wide awake, and which frightened Elspeth so badly that she’d stopped staying overnight.
But Lenny wasn’t bothered by the smirking Sprockets. In fact, he felt sorry for the boys, regarding them as underprivileged lads from some sunbaked state where children ran barefoot across red clay all summer and ate corn pone for breakfast.
Lenny wondered what corn pone tasted like and—more importantly—what was the origin of the word pone? A Native American term? Spanish? Skalwegian even?
He turned to Charlie, astride his motorcycle and fiddling with one of its dials. “Is pone a word in Skalwegian?”
“It sure is,” Charlie said without looking up. “It means ‘He who makes a big weegan of himself by driving an eight-foot rat through the center of town.’”
“You’re no help.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
Lenny drifted off to ruminate on pone. The campus newspaper had labeled him the most distracted member of the faculty—misplacing his briefcase, forgetting to show up for class, walking into trees. But he’d also been one of the most popular until he’d flunked a pair of star football players. The school newspaper excoriated him, and fans called him a traitor. A few students considered him a hero, however. Lenny wanted to be neither.
Charlie tightened his helmet and slipped the key into the ignition. “I got to get back to the farm because Sally must have lunch ready by now. Besides, I don’t want to stick around and watch my good buddy make a big weegan of himself.”
“Can you come over tomorrow? We got only halfway through the G verbs this morning.”
“Tomorrow I got to work on the barn roof. Maybe the day after. Or the day after that.”
Charlie started the engine, leaned into the handlebars and roared away in a blast of blue smoke.
Lenny watched him go. There were times when Lenny felt like quitting the project. Charlie used him as resource—“What’s a gerund? Where do hyphens go? What in hell is a predicate complement?”—but had given him no real role in documenting the language itself. Although this was frustrating and puzzling, it was never quite enough to force Lenny to drop out. He took great pride in helping save a language, not to mention that it was a hot topic in linguistic circles and would go a long way toward saving his teaching job.
Tom and Titus simultaneously tucked their muscle shirts into their waistbands. Titus said, “We was football players.”
“Oh?” Lenny said. He paid no attention to team sports but closely attended to subject/verb conflicts.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Titus said. “But we got cheated and ain’t never going to get our whack at the NFL.”
Distracted, Lenny tugged on Gerry’s ropes. Yes, they’d definitely need retying. It pleased him to hear someone say ain’t so naturally and not merely to make an ironic point. He said over his shoulder, “NFL—that would be the National Federation of… uh…?”
“Holy shit on a shingle!” Titus said. “I’m talking about the National Football League—big money, fame and all the poontang a guy could ever want.”
Lenny had read somewhere that poontang descended from New Orleans Creole, from putain, the French word for prostitute, but he wasn’t absolutely sure. He would look into this later, along with pone. He turned to the brothers. “Something went wrong?”
The Sprockets looked at each other in wonder. “Yeah, you could say that,” Titus said. “We got screwed.”
“Yeah, screwed,” Tom repeated.
Lenny said, “That’s a shame.”
“Yeah, well, we’re gonna get payback,” Titus said and patted Gerry’s foot.
Lenny climbed into his car and eased out of the parking lot. Ropes squeaked against the door frames, the statue’s base creaked on the Chevy’s roof, and Lenny was sure he heard Gerry groan in anticipation of the dreadful day ahead.
In his rearview mirror, Lenny watched the diminishing Sprocket brothers waving and laughing. What an odd pair, he thought.
Lenny decided to take his usual route through the arboretum on his way downtown. The beauty and isolation of the place soothed him. He hoped it would today.
* * *
Bob One spotted a car approaching and got to his feet. It was an old black Chevy with a maroon right front fender. Don’t all professors drive Priuses?
But it had to be the guy on account of the statue on top like he’d been told to look for. What was that thing? A squirrel? A rat? Look at how the damn thing wobbles! About ready to tip over.
Bob One slipped closer to the road, crouched behind a bush, pulled his pistol from his belt and slapped a mosquito off his forehead. He examined the bloody splotch on his palm. Shit, stick around much longer, and the damn insects would suck him dead.
* * *
Lenny was scared.
In two days, he had to go on live television with Charlie and discuss their Skalwegian project—not easy for someone wanting to go through life invisible. Would he make a fool of himself? Say dumb things he’d later regret?
Probably.
Lenny’s thoughts turned back to the Sprocket brothers. Strange last name. Scholars could trace sprocket back as far as the mid-sixteenth century as a carpenter’s term but hadn’t yet located an ancestor.
Tom and Titus Sprocket!
Of course!
He’d flunked them in first-year French because they never showed up for class, which cost them their eligibility to play football. The dean had been furious with him but not with the errant guard and tackle. Jocks normally took Spanish with Juan Jorgenson—the other candidate for the language department’s one tenured slot. Juan automatically gave A’s to athletes just for registering.
Lenny reached over and cranked up the radio for the boisterous ending of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, then glanced up to see he was driving much too fast into Jackknife Corner.
Panicked, he jammed on the brakes and twisted the steering wheel hard left.
He felt the car tilt to the right and heard a loud Thunk! just as Beethoven’s Fifth swelled to a crescendo. Puzzled, Lenny drove on, with the Chevy pulling to the right. Probably something to do with tire pressure, Lenny guessed. He’d have that checked later.
* * *
Bob One lay on the side of road. Blood flowed out his left ear and down his cheek. His head buzzed, and his eyes slipped in and out of focus. He pulled himself to his feet, wobbled, then toppled into the ditch. He crawled into the marsh, still gripping his unfired handgun. Puddles soaked his knees and elbows. A possum trotted past. An airplane roared low overhead. Or was that inside his skull?
Bob One’s left temple hurt like a son of a bitch. That damn rat had toppled over and whacked him on the side of the head. Or was it a guinea pig?
Bob One curled up beside a bog. Half-conscious, he watched a fat snapping turtle waddle toward him, stop two feet from his nose, look him up and down, then open its jaw. Shit, Bob One said to himself, the thing’s got a mouth the size of a catcher’s mitt. Bob One didn’t like animals or much of anything else in nature. He tried to crawl away, but things started going dark—warm and dark—not such a bad feeling, actually.
Bob One awoke to see the turtle biting his right forefinger off at the second joint. Bob One felt no pain and noticed that one of his shoes was missing. As Bob One slipped comfortably into his final darkness, he wondered if a missing trigger finger would hinder him professionally.
* * *
Lenny reached the parade route late and swung in behind the school bandsmen in their sky-blue uniforms with “Skammer’s Fine Meats” embroidered in bright yellow across the back.
Spectators to Lenny’s right shouted and pointed. Some ducked, some knelt, some even dropped to their stomachs. Lenny shook his head in disbelief. Had students and townspeople taken to prostrating themselves before the college mascot? Did he really want tenure at a batty place like this?
At the end of the block, a policeman holding a Dunkin’ Donuts cup stepped into the street, raised his palm, and forced Lenny to brake.
As Lenny stepped from his car, he realized that he’d forgotten to retie the ropes.
Gerry Gerbil lay sideways across the car’s roof, projecting five feet to the right, the ankles tied precariously in place. Someone took a photo. Someone fingered the slack ropes and spoke of slip knots. Lenny touched a patch of something red and damp on the mascot’s forehead. Lenny rubbed thumb against forefinger. The stuff looked like blood.
Since when did gerbil statues bleed?
***
Excerpt from The Last Speaker of Skalwegian by David Gardner. Copyright 2021 by David Gardner. Reproduced with permission from David Gardner. All rights reserved.
My ThoughtsLife is hard. Sometimes we need levity in the form of a zany story to lighten the weight. The Last Speaker of Skalwegian is one such story.
Lenny, a college professor, sets out to help his friend document the Skalwegian language. From there, all sorts of chaos ensues.
The plot rolls forward on absurdist humor, so you can’t take the story seriously.
My favorite part was Lenny’s obsession with etymology. Often distracted by random words, he’d suddenly start tracing their history until he came upon the origin. This appealed to my nerdy fascination with linguistics.
Goofy madness and mayhem abounds within these pages.
David Gardner grew up on a Wisconsin dairy farm, served in Army Special Forces and earned a Ph.D. in French from the University of Wisconsin. He has taught college and worked as a reporter and in the computer industry. He coauthored three programming books for Prentice Hall, wrote dozens of travel articles as well as too many mind-numbing computer manuals before happily turning to fiction: “The Journalist: A Paranormal Thriller” and “The Last Speaker of Skalwegian” (both with Encircle Publications, LLC). He lives in Massachusetts with his wife, Nancy, also a writer. He hikes, bikes, messes with astrophotography and plays the keyboard with no discernible talent whatsoever.
DavidGardnerAuthor.com
Goodreads
Instagram – @davidagardner07
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November 12, 2021
Book Review — THE VIKING HEART: How Scandinavians Conquered the World by Arthur Herman
Scandinavia has always been a world apart. For millennia Norwegians, Danes, Finns, and Swedes lived a remote and rugged existence among the fjords and peaks of the land of the midnight sun. But when they finally left their homeland in search of opportunity, these wanderers—including the most famous, the Vikings—would reshape Europe and beyond. Their ingenuity, daring, resiliency, and loyalty to family and community would propel them to the gates of Rome, the steppes of Russia, the courts of Constantinople, and the castles of England and Ireland. But nowhere would they leave a deeper mark than across the Atlantic, where the Vikings’ legacy would become the American Dream.
In The Viking Heart, Arthur Herman melds a compelling historical narrative with cutting-edge archaeological and DNA research to trace the epic story of this remarkable and diverse people. He shows how the Scandinavian experience has universal meaning, and how we can still be inspired by their indomitable spirit.
Published: August 2021
My ThoughtsI’d been stalking this book for months before its release, and I swear I shrieked with joy when the publisher sent me a finished hardcover. I so wanted to love this book.
Do you sense the but?
The writing is dry, giving us more of a college textbook than narrative nonfiction feel. I could’ve lived with that had the content been more engaging, and here’s another but…
I was thrown off by the author’s constant need to insert his ancestral history, however tangential, into this story of Vikings. None of these ancestors were in the least bit relevant to the topic.
I was also dumbfounded by the author’s constant, emphatic claims that Christianity saved the Vikings, making them better people. He showed us absolutely no evidence of this because there is no evidence of this. Christianity has just as much violence in its history as any pagan religion. He simply proclaimed this as fact. Consequently, this again felt like nothing more than the author’s bias.
This book was a struggle for me to get through. I felt the content was too much of a personal mission for the author to show Vikings in general, and his ancestors specifically, as heroes who saved and shaped humanity.
*I received a free copy from Mariner Books .*
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November 11, 2021
New Release Spotlight — CHARIOTS IN THE SKY: A Story about U.S. Assault Helicopter Pilots at War in Vietnam by Larry A. Freeland
Join Captain Taylor St. James, along with his friends and comrades, as they fly harrowingcombat missions, cover for each other, deal with bad weather, mechanical problems and humanerror during the later part of the Vietnam War. When not flying, they areharassed by rocketattacks and sappers in the wire. Taylor discovers the North Vietnamese are not his only enemy ashe copes with the pressures put on him by a commander more interested in personal glory thanhis men’s well being.
This is the story of Captain Taylor St. James, a dedicated Army helicopter pilot, who is sent toVietnam. He just wants to do his job, survive the war and return home to his wife Sandy andfamily. While performing his duties, Taylor will be challenged and tested beyond any measurehe could have ever envisioned.
He is assigned to the Eagles, a Huey Assault Company with the 101st Airborne Division in ICorps. Taylor’s unit is stationed at Phu Bai Base where they fly missions throughout thenorthern region. Their flying exploits take them into many familiar places to include: A ShauValley, Khe Sanh, Quang Tri Province, Hue, DMZ, North Vietnam and Laos.
Along the way Taylor participated in Lam Son 719, the last major American OffensiveOperation of the war. This historical campaign lasted for sixty days and involved over 750helicopters flying in and out of Laos supporting the South Vietnamese incursion into Laos. LamSon 719 was the costliest period of helicopter warfare for the Americans. More helicopters wereshot down and sustained battle damage than any other period during the Vietnam War.
Guest PostThings I Didn’t Know About Vietnam
By Larry A Freeland
Before leaving for Vietnam and during my stateside military training I heard many stories about Vietnam. People who had been their or claimed to be knowledgeable of Vietnam and the war would tell me what I could expect, what I should do or not to do when I got in-country, what the Vietnamese people were like, how to fight and deal with the NVA (North Vietnamese Army) communist and Vietcong insurgents in the south. Some expressed the believe that our enemies were invincible and unbeatable, and so on. I guess, like most other veterans who were sent to Vietnam and survived, I have recollections of what I thought I would experience and then the reality of what I lived through.
I was sent to Vietnam on January 3, 1971 and served one year in I Corp. with the 101st Airborne Division as a CH-47 helicopter pilot and Infantry Officer. In this capacity I flew all over the northern portion of South Vietnam from Da Nang to the DMZ, from the coastal lowlands to the mountains of the A Sau Valley and even into Laos for a few months. When not flying I was performing other duties where I was interacting with local Vietnamese military personnel and local civilians in the Phu Bai and Hue. These opportunities provided me with many impressions and observations leading me to form some of my own opinions of the Vietnamese people and their country.
Not surprising, there were many things I wasn’t aware of about Vietnam as a country and its people before I got there. Here is a list of what I encountered and learned while serving in country:
1. The diversity of its people, which varies from well-educated to many living an agrarian lifestyle with little or no formal education.
2. The country’s geography includes tropical lowlands, rolling green hills, densely forested mountains, and coastal lowlands. There were mountains in the northern area, A Sau Valley, that toped 5,000 feet. Much of it was beautiful and some day would make great travel resorts and vacation related places to visit. That has become the case, with some very fine locations, particularly along their coastlines and in and around what was called Saigon and now is Ho Chi Minh City.
3. Weather extremes ranged from hot and humid to cold and damp, but I never saw any snow. I had been in Vietnam for what seemed an eternity and experienced very poor weather and flying conditions many times. However, I wasn’t aware that Vietnam was susceptible to typhoons. About eight months into my tour, we were hit by a typhoon in the 101st Divisions area of operations. It wasn’t a devastating typhoon, but it did considerable damage to our facilities and knocked out power and water supplies for several days. On any given day, power and water supplies could be interrupted, but not for the length of time we experienced with the typhoon.
4. Their religious beliefs can include Catholicism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Confucianism.
5. Many Vietnamese placed high importance on family and respect for their elders. I found them to be a caring and supportive people when it came to their families and elders, those living and those who were deceased.
6. Their political views were not as simple as we we’re led to believe. Most Vietnamese I met impressed me as people who just wanted to be left alone. They wanted to be free of foreign interference, have their own country, and many just wanted to live as their ancestors had for centuries. Before we got involved with Vietnam, it had been a French colony since 1887. When the French were forced out of Vietnam, we eventually moved in. Over the centuries, Vietnam had endured border conflicts with their northern neighbor China. During our war with them, the Chinese and the Russians allied with the north and hoped to gain favor with the North Vietnamese.
About the Author
Larry Freeland was born in Canton, Ohio. Since his father was an officer with the United StatesAir Force he grew up on many Air Force bases across this country. After graduating from HighSchool at Ramey Air Force Base in Puerto Rico, he attended the University of South Florida inTampa, Florida. He graduated in 1968 with a degree in mathematics and a concentration infinance. He joined the U.S. Army and served one tour in Vietnam with the 101st AirborneDivision as an Infantry Officer and a CH–47 helicopter pilot. He is the recipient of theDistinguished Flying Cross with one Oak Leaf Cluster, the Air Medal, with 10 Oak LeafClusters, the Bronze Star, and various other military service medals.
Upon release from active duty in 1973, Larry returned to civilian life and pursued a career in theFinancial Industry. During his professional career, he continued his education, earning graduatedegrees in Management and Banking. He worked for 29 years in the banking business withTrust Company of Georgia, Citizen and Southern Corporation, now Bank of America, andWachovia, now Wells Fargo. After retiring from banking he worked as an independent financialconsultant for 3 years in the Atlanta area and then worked as an instructor for 6 years with LanierTechnical College in their Management and Leadership Development Program.
Larry is now retired and lives in North Georgia with his wife Linda, a retired school teacher.They stay involved in various activities, most notably those associated with the Cystic FibrosisFoundation and Veterans related organizations. They also enjoy traveling together and spendingas much time as possible with their two daughters, three grandsons, and two granddaughters.
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November 10, 2021
Spotlight on KID ON THE GO! Memoir of My Childhood and Youth by Neill McKee
In this new book, McKee takes readers on a journey through his childhood, adolescence, and teenage years from the mid-40s to the mid-60s, in the small, then industrially-polluted town of Elmira, Ontario, Canada—one of the centers of production for Agent Orange during the Vietnam War.
McKee’s vivid descriptions, dialog, and self-drawn illustrations are a study of how a young boy learned to play and work, fish and hunt, avoid dangers, cope with death, deal with bullies, and to build or restore “escape” vehicles. You may laugh out loud as the author recalls his exploding hormones, attraction to girls, rebellion against authority, and survival of 1960s’ “rock & roll” culture—emerging on the other side as a youth leader.
After leaving Elmira, McKee describes his intensely searching university years, trying to decide which career path to follow. Except for a revealing postscript, the story ends when he accepts a volunteer teaching position on the island of Borneo, in Southeast Asia.
Purchase your copy now available on Amazon , Barnes and Noble , or Bookshop.org . Make sure to add it to your GoodReads reading list, too.
ExcerptKid on the Go!Excerpt from Chapter One:
Odiferous Ontario Origins
In Elmira, as I recall, the predominant wind from the west came loaded with the pungent stink from generous quantities of pig and cow manure, courtesy of the Mennonite farmers’ fields on the west side of town. I noticed it most in spring and fall and longed for winter when all the fields would be frozen and blanketed in many feet of snow. Shifting winds from the north brought no relief. The fields on that side of town were equally full of animal dung with an added “fragrance” from the slaughter- house, which my brother Glen called “skunk factory.” I never went inside but I can recall an old horse with an ugly hump on its back, pacing back and forth in the corral outside of skunk factory, waiting for its fate to be sealed—or should I say “glued”? I couldn’t understand how this unfortunate beast could be reduced to glue, or why the light brown paste we used at school didn’t stink. Winds from the east proved to be more complex and beyond my childish understanding. By the time I was born, Elmira’s Naugatuck Chemical factory, located on that side of town—once a branch of a Connecticut firm—had graduated from producing a substance used in World War II bombs, to turning out new rubber and plastic products. [Much later I learned from studying the matter that Naugatuck also gave off clouds of acids, sulfates, and nitrates—noxious fumes few people could identify at the time. The factory’s new outputs included particles of its latest products: an insecticide called DDT and two “miracle” herbicides—2,4-D, known as “Weed Bane” and the stronger 2,4,5-T, marketed as “Brush Bane.” In the 1940s, Elmira was declared the “first weed-free town in Canada” due to a scheme of spraying all the lawns with discount herbicide from Naugatuck. High school students were even roped into the job.]About the Author
Neill McKee is a creative nonfiction writer based in Albuquerque, New Mexico. He has written and published three books in this genre since 2015. His latest work is Kid on the Go! Memoir of My Childhood and Youth , a humorous and poignant account of his growing up in an industrially-polluted town in Ontario, Canada, and his university years. This memoir is a stand-alone prequel to his first travel memoir Finding Myself in Borneo: Sojourns in Sabah (2019) on his first overseas adventures in Sabah, Malaysia (North Borneo), where he served as a Canadian volunteer teacher and program administrator during 1968-70 and 1973-74. This book won the 2019 New Mexico/Arizona Book Award for Biography–(other than a New Mexico/Arizona subject) and a Bronze Medal in the 2020 Independent Publisher Book Awards (Ippy Awards).
In late 2020, McKee also released Guns and Gods in my Genes: A 15,000-mile North American search through four centuries of history, to the Mayflower —an entertaining account of how he searched for his roots in Canada and the US, in which he employs vivid descriptions, dialog, poetic prose, analytical opinion, photos and illustrations. In this work, McKee slowly uncovers his American grandmother’s lineage—ancestors who were involved in almost every major war on North American soil and others, including a passenger on the Mayflower, as well as heroes, villains, rascals, and ordinary godly folk. Through his search, McKee exposes myths and uncovers facts about the true founding of America.
McKee, who holds a B.A. Degree from the University of Calgary and a Masters in Communication from Florida State University, lived and worked in Asia, Africa, Russia and traveled to over 80 countries on assignments during his 45-year international career. He became an expert in communication and directed/produced a number of award-winning documentary films/videos, and wrote a many articles and books in the field. McKee is now busy writing another travel memoir on his career. He does readings/book signings and presentations with or without photos. He prefers lively interactive sessions.
SOCIAL MEDIA LINKS:
Author’s website: www.neillmckeeauthor.com
Kid on the Go! book page: www.neillmckeeauthor.com/kid-on-the-go
Kid on the go! buy page: www.neillmckeeauthor.com/buy-3
Author’s digital library: www.neillmckeevideos.com/
LinkedIn: www.linkedin.com/in/neill-mckee-b9971b65/
Facebook: www.facebook.com/McKeeNeill/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MckeeNeill
NBFS: www.northborneofrodotolkien.org
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November 9, 2021
Book Review — UNTAMED by Glennon Doyle
This is how you find yourself.
There is a voice of longing inside each woman. We strive so mightily to be good: good partners, daughters, mothers, employees, and friends. We hope all this striving will make us feel alive. Instead, it leaves us feeling weary, stuck, overwhelmed, and underwhelmed. We look at our lives and wonder: Wasn’t it all supposed to be more beautiful than this? We quickly silence that question, telling ourselves to be grateful, hiding our discontent—even from ourselves.
For many years, Glennon Doyle denied her own discontent. Then, while speaking at a conference, she looked at a woman across the room and fell instantly in love. Three words flooded her mind: There She Is. At first, Glennon assumed these words came to her from on high. But she soon realized they had come to her from within. This was her own voice—the one she had buried beneath decades of numbing addictions, cultural conditioning, and institutional allegiances. This was the voice of the girl she had been before the world told her who to be. Glennon decided to quit abandoning herself and to instead abandon the world’s expectations of her. She quit being good so she could be free. She quit pleasing and started living.
Soulful and uproarious, forceful and tender, Untamed is both an intimate memoir and a galvanizing wake-up call. It is the story of how one woman learned that a responsible mother is not one who slowly dies for her children, but one who shows them how to fully live. It is the story of navigating divorce, forming a new blended family, and discovering that the brokenness or wholeness of a family depends not on its structure but on each member’s ability to bring her full self to the table. And it is the story of how each of us can begin to trust ourselves enough to set boundaries, make peace with our bodies, honor our anger and heartbreak, and unleash our truest, wildest instincts so that we become women who can finally look at ourselves and say: There She Is.
Untamed shows us how to be brave. As Glennon insists: The braver we are, the luckier we get.
Published: March 2020
My ThoughtsPrior to reading Untamed, I’d never heard of Glennon Doyle, the author, because I apparently live in a cave.
Regardless of my celebrity ignorance, I enjoy memoirs, and this one intrigued me. I’m so glad the author and I crossed paths.
This book is written in groupings of personal vignettes, in which Doyle shares her experiences and wisdom gained through life as a woman and a parent, once married to a man and now married to a woman.
The content is raw, honest, insightful, and full of humor.
I especially loved the parts about being an introvert because, seriously, why do people call my cell phone? C’mon! We all know how to text.
Seriously, though, regardless of where you are in your life, this book will give you lots to think about.
I received a free copy in a giveaway from The Dial Press. I also listened to part of this on audio, which is read by the author and makes for a personal, intimate listening experience.
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