Connie Cockrell's Blog, page 14

Mystery at the Reunion, Website Updates, Mice: Monday Blog Post

Newest News:

Had
a really good interview with a military woman who was stationed in Afghanistan!
I received excellent details about the living arrangements, how and when people
could leave the compounds, what weapons they carried, all sorts of stuff. Now
mulling over how to use that information. Mystery at the Reunion. Yes, it will
be out. Probably early 2020.  

Website
updates. Spent some time last week in my website trying to figure out where the
blog signup button went. Can’t find it anywhere though the newsletter links
still work. I cleaned up the social media share buttons, so that’s a plus. Then
spent a lot of time looking for a widget or a plug-in to get my blog sign-ups
back. No luck on that. I’ll have to find a web admin group and ask them what they
use.

I
go to jury duty tomorrow!

Mouse
patrol! Taping up the under the car duct covers has eliminated our mice in the
car problem. I’m pretty sure they’re still in the garage though. Ugh.

Giveaways:

The Summer Giveaway is open! There are 33 participating authors with 33 book prizes and 33 summer gift prizes. The Grand Prize is $100 in Paypal cash. This is certainly a giveaway to get involved with.

Where will I Be?:

I don’t have anything on my calendar until the December Mesa Book Festival. The date is December 14th from 10am – 5pm and the location has changed to 225 E Main St, Mesa. This is the Benedictine University, for those familiar with Mesa. I am sharing a booth space with the wonderful Marsha Ward. The site only promotes the author registering the table, so you’ll only see Marsha’s name, not mine. But I promise, I’ll be there. You can find all the details and a map at https://anthology.org/category/mesa-book-festival/.

On
the other hand, if something juicy comes up, because it’s a long time between now
and December, I’ll let you know. Do you know of an event where you’d like to
see me? I’d love to know about it. Contact me here and say the word.

Newsletter Sign Up:

Click
here to sign up for my newsletter. I’ve put sign-up gifts on the regular and
the SciFi/Fantasy and the Cozy Mystery newsletter sign-ups. That’s right. If
you sign up for my newsletter you get a free story from me. Be prepared for fun
and contests! Click on the video link for a short video from me. Hear what I’m
working on. Join my “A” Team to be the first to read my books and hear what new
books are coming.

Don’t
forget to follow my blog, too. Different material goes in the blog as in the
newsletter. You can share both, so spread the word!

Newest Book Release:

Gold Dreams released May 13th, 2019. I have finished reformatting the book for the other platforms. It sometimes takes a few days or even a week to get them all live. It up on Amazon, Apple, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, (Direct link doesn’t work, copy the URL and paste it into your browser, or go directly to Kobo.com and search for Gold Dreams, Connie Cockrell), and Smashwords. The print version is available on Amazon. You can also see all my books on http://conniesrandomthoughts.com/my-books-and-other-published-work/. If you’ve read any of my books, please drop a short, honest, review on the site where you bought it or on Goodreads or BookBub. Your review is critical to help me promote the books to other readers. Thanks in advance.

Thank
you for reading my blog. Like all of the other work I do as an author, it takes
time and money. If you enjoy this Monday blog and the Friday free story and the
recipe I put up on the 25th of every month, consider donating to https://www.paypal.me/ConniesRandomThought. I appreciate any donation to help support
this blog.

The Party: Chapter 11 – Devon Brown, Flash Fiction Friday Post

Chapter 11: Devon Brown, #9280970

Devon Brown, now number 9280970, stood in line in his
cohort. That’s what he’d learned to call his group. It was physical education
time. PE the instructors called it. There was weightlifting, calisthenics and
running. All out in the hot sun. He’d overheard two instructors talking in the
first week and so knew he was in the mountains of North Carolina. So that was
something, anyway. Not much other information came through. Not that he had
time for it.

Instructor Orville called out for jumping jacks. “Begin!”
he shouted.

Devon began to jump. Perfectly in sync with the rest
of the cohort. The boys in his cohort had all arrived the same day, twenty of
them. They’d learned fast that stragglers were punished. If the stragglers
proved unfit, the entire cohort would be punished. Devon had experienced his
share. He eyed the slim rod at the instructor’s waist. A cattle prod. His first
time had been the first day.

He’d fallen asleep at the desk, hands folded in front
of him. Instructor George had zapped him as he sat at the desk, and he woke,
thrashing on the floor, blood pouring from a cut on his forehead from hitting
the desk leg beside him. After much shouting about falling asleep in class,
Instructor George had jerked him up from the floor by the front of his shirt
and slammed him back into the chair.

Devon remembered lifting his hand to feel the cut when
the instructor slapped the cattle prod on the desk making him jump. “Did I tell
you to move!” he’d yelled.

“No.”

“No, sir!”

“No, sir.” After that Devon let the blood run. When
they were lined up to go to chow, Devon had been taken to a small clinic. A doctor
had looked at the cut. Then cleaned and put a bandaid over it. No cleaning his
face, no kind words. Just the basic medical care then sent back to his group,
now eating dinner from trays in a cafeteria where there were a lot of other
boys, not just his group.

No one looked around. He was seated at a table with
his group. A tray of food already there.

“Eat,” Instructor George had told him.

Devon picked up a funny looking spoon with little
points on the end and scooped up macaroni and cheese. It was cold and gross and
he really wanted to spit it out. The boy across from him shook his head and
scooped his food into his mouth, chewing then swallowing. Devon followed suit.
He was very hungry. He’d not eaten since the picnic which already seemed years
ago.

That was his introduction to what the boys were
calling The Camp.

Instructor Orville shouted stop. And the boys came to
attention. “Burpees!”

Devon hated burpees but he dutifully, and in sync, did
them. He was going to be glad when the hour was over.

The day was filled. Up at six in the morning to an
alarm bell. Rush to go to the bathroom, dress, make his bunk, and fall into
formation in just fifteen minutes. March to breakfast, usually oatmeal and
fruit but once in a while, eggs and toast, or once, pancakes with syrup and
fruit. Then math, then English, then PE. Another class, Russian, then lunch.
That was generally soup and sandwich and a piece of fruit. Apple, mostly, but
there was a banana once and once a pear. Another class, science, then another
PE session. After that was reading. Silently. The instructor assigned the book.
A final class of the day, government. That was a strange one, as far as Devon
was concerned. All about the glorious President for Life, and how the
government was put together and worked. Then it was homework, still sitting in
the classroom. That went on until they were marched to supper. This was the one
meal with something different every night so far. Even with three meals a day,
he was usually hungry. No seconds were ever offered.

Then they went back to the classroom and finished
their homework. If they finished before the others, they could continue reading
their book. At seven at night they were marched back to their dorms where they
could shower, dress in their sleepwear, and take care of their shoes or other
gear. Talking was permitted but quietly. No loud talking, laughing, and
certainly no shouting or horseplay.

Bedtime was eight-thirty, sounded by the same alarm
that woke them in the morning. Devon was ready for bed by then. The stress of
the day, doing everything perfectly so that he wasn’t zapped, took a lot of
energy. He didn’t have much time to think about her during the day but just
before falling asleep, he thought about his sister, Caitlin. He hoped she was
doing okay, that she wasn’t being punished too much. With the lights off, as long
as he was quiet, tears could flow. He worried about his little sister. Was she
doing the same thing he was? And what about his father? Where was he? And he
missed his mother. What happened to her after they’d all been taken away? Did
she know where he was? Would she try and call him? He didn’t know. None of the
boys in his cohort had received any word from their families.

He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Devon fell
asleep but generally woke several times a night from nightmares. Monsters,
chasing him through the dark with electric claws.

Thank you for reading.

Happy Labor Day, Mystery at the Reunion, Critters in the Car, : Monday Blog Post

Newest News:

Happy
fall! I know it’s not officially fall but it’s Labor Day today and I hope
everyone has had a wonderful summer and are all set to have a very great
Autumn. I’m not a pumpkin spice kind of person but if you are, have at it!

Hooray.
Found a military woman to talk to me about Afghanistan! I’ll be talking to her
on Tuesday and I’m really looking forward to it.  

It’s
now 8 days until I go to jury duty.

https://www.deviantart.com/dea1h/art/Mouse-4-149456841 British harvest mouse.

More news about the critter or critters in my garage. Last week I mentioned that hubby cleaned a new nest out of the car air conditioning duct. Sunday, he checked it and what do we find? A new nest built. The mouse is bringing dried out peaches in from the yard at the other end of the house and putting them in the nest. Ugh. Hubby is now setting traps under the car. While under there, he found a small cover that’s hanging open. He suspects that’s where the mouse (we’re pretty sure it’s a mouse) is getting into the car. He’s duct taped it up as it’s broken, while we wait for a new cover to arrive from Toyota.

Giveaways:

The Summer Giveaway is open! There are 33 participating authors with 33 book prizes and 33 summer gift prizes. The Grand Prize is $100 in Paypal cash. This is certainly a giveaway to get involved with.

Where will I Be?:

I don’t have anything on my calendar until the December Mesa Book Festival. The date is December 14th from 10am – 5pm and the location has changed to 225 E Main St, Mesa. This is the Benedictine University, for those familiar with Mesa. I am sharing a booth space with the wonderful Marsha Ward. The site only promotes the author registering the table, so you’ll only see Marsha’s name, not mine. But I promise, I’ll be there. You can find all the details and a map at https://anthology.org/category/mesa-book-festival/.

On
the other hand, if something juicy comes up, because it’s a long time between
July and December, I’ll let you know. Do you know of an event where you’d like
to see me? I’d love to know about it. Contact me here and say the word.

Newsletter Sign Up:

Click
here to sign up for my newsletter. I’ve put sign-up gifts on the regular and the
SciFi/Fantasy and the Cozy Mystery newsletter sign-ups. That’s right. If you
sign up for my newsletter you get a free story from me. Be prepared for fun and
contests! Click on the video link for a short video from me. Hear what I’m
working on. Join my “A” Team to be the first to read my books and hear what new
books are coming.

Don’t
forget to follow my blog, too. Different material goes in the blog as in the
newsletter. You can share both, so spread the word!

Newest Book Release:

Gold Dreams released May 13th, 2019. I have finished reformatting the book for the other platforms. It sometimes takes a few days or even a week to get them all live. It up on Amazon, Apple, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, (Direct link doesn’t work, copy the URL and paste it into your browser, or go directly to Kobo.com and search for Gold Dreams, Connie Cockrell), and Smashwords. The print version is available on Amazon. You can also see all my books on http://conniesrandomthoughts.com/my-books-and-other-published-work/. If you’ve read any of my books, please drop a short, honest, review on the site where you bought it or on Goodreads or BookBub. Your review is critical to help me promote the books to other readers. Thanks in advance.

Thank
you for reading my blog. Like all of the other work I do as an author, it takes
time and money. If you enjoy this Monday blog and the Friday free story and the
recipe I put up on the 25th of every month, consider donating to https://www.paypal.me/ConniesRandomThought. I appreciate any donation to help support
this blog.

The Party – Chapter 10: Duncan Angelson: Flash Fiction Friday Post

Yes, this is political. I offer you trigger warnings for language and sexual and racist slurs and comments. Future episodes may also contain rape, abuse, and other unpleasant things.

Chapter 10: Duncan Angelson

“What’s the President doing?” Duncan Angelson shuffled reports as he asked.

“In his room, in front of the screen bank. Same old, same old.” Andy McGuire
at in the chair in front of the Chief’s desk and waited for the Chief of Staff
to continue.

“How’s that new manager working out for the Twitter operators?”

“Good. She knows the President’s history, his usual hot button topics, and
has today’s list of propaganda. No problems since we fired the last manager. It
was a good idea, setting up that office. The President’s tweets go to them,
they clean them up and then post them. Have you seen some of his raw tweets?
They make no sense at all.”

Duncan nodded. “Yeah, they had to be monitored. It was getting out of hand.”
He paused, the asked, “Any problem from the old manager?”

“No, sir. He’s sticking to the agreement.”

That drew a snort from Duncan. “Ought to. He’s being paid off enough.” He
drew a deep breath. “Here’s what I need. The Party has agreed that select
people we’ve picked up can be released.” He tapped his pad. “I’ve sent you the criteria
for the releases. Associated family, if any, will also be released.”

Andy’s pad dinged and he opened the document. He scanned it quickly. “What
about these people’s homes, jobs, whatever we took?”

Duncan shook his head. “Reparations will not be offered. They’re lucky they
will be released.”

Andy thought that was unfair but he kept his mouth shut. “Very well. I’ll
set up a committee to look at the internees and start the process. First ones out
should be in about three weeks.” He rubbed an eye. “What are we doing about
Popov?”

Duncan rubbed the back of his neck. “The guy is insatiable. Wants everything
for Mother Russia.” He leaned back in his chair, resting his head back and
staring at the ceiling. “He’s trying to take our nukes. We told him we want ours
back. He pretends they’ve been lost.”

“Lost!” Andy blurt out. “Are they really?”

“No.” Duncan sat back up. “He’s stalling. Probably has his engineers in a
lab, disassembling one or more to find out our guidance systems or something. The
Director of National Intelligence is having a stroke, wants those nukes back
ASAP.”

“I can hardly blame him,” Andy was shaking his head. “What’s the next step?”

“Sanctions, not that they bother Popov, but we’ll freeze his and his
oligarchs’ bank accounts. That will get their attention.”

Andy took a note on his pad. “I’ll get the sanctions process moving.” He
looked up. “What about the dissidents? They’re not on the release program, are
they?”

“No. They’re in a whole other category.” Duncan leafed through his reports
then put them back down. “I am concerned about the creation of dissidents, though.”
He drummed his fingers on his desk. “There seem to be more than ever now. We
clean up one cell and three more pop up.”

“How does that happen?” Andy looked puzzled. “We don’t televise them or
allow demonstrations. So how are the cells being formed?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Do some research, will you? On the fine art
of dissidents or whatever you have to do. Some egghead professor somewhere
knows how these things happen. Or maybe even the FBI or CIA will know. They’re
communicating somehow. Let’s try to nip this in the bud before it becomes a
real problem.”

Andy nodded and made another note. “The doc wants to talk about the
President.”

That brought another sigh from Duncan. “What about?”

“He said he’s not liking the President’s health. Wants to review options. Do
we need the First Lady?”

Duncan shook his head. “No. She’d divorce him if she could. Make him an
appointment to see me. Might as well get the news sooner rather than later.” He
picked up his pen, then put it down again. “That brings up the replacement. If
the President dies, we need to have someone lined up and ready to plug into
place. Start a list of possible candidates. It will all have to be cleared
through the party, of course, but we might as well get the ball rolling.”

Andy made another note. “Is that it?”

“Sure. Let me know if there are any hiccups with any of those items. Keep
them all on the down low. Usual disclaimers and non-disclosures. You know the
drill.”

Andy stood up. “Got it.” He tucked his pad into his suit coat pocket and
started for the door. He paused, hand on the knob and turned back to the Chief
of Staff. “Just off the top of my head, Chief. Those people we release, we’re not
making reparations. Isn’t that going to make them dissidents? I mean, we’re
turning them lose with nothing. Their lives were ruined.”

Duncan scratched an eyebrow. “No. They’ll be counselled before release
concerning any errors in judgement. They won’t want to go back to the camps,
especially not as dissidents.”

“Okay.” Andy nodded. “If you say so.”

Thank you for reading.

On My Writing, Jury Duty, Next Project, Lizard Tails: Monday Blog Post

Newest News:

This was supposed to go out last week and I just realized it was sitting in my drafts folder. Ugh. So, this week you get two posts! Enjoy.

Writing. I am. Really, I am. I’m working on my serial, The Party. I post a new chapter every Friday. The news is so frightening I don’t think I’ll ever run out of material. I also wrote a short story for Writing for Peace’s next compilation magazine, DoveTales Online. I submitted that on the 15th and am crossing my fingers that it is accepted. I’ll know, perhaps in November. The magazine comes out in February. If you’re interested in what they’re doing over there, check it out on WritingForPeace.org. They have a Facebook Page as well and I’m getting some very interesting posts from them.

I’m also starting to think about my November National Novel Writing Month project. I need the next installment in the Brown Rain series, book 5, so I may do that. I’m also toying with a follow-on book to Gold Dreams. Have you read it? Would you be interested in hearing about Zeke and Mary in California?

In other news, I’ve been summoned to jury duty next month, September 10th. It’s at the county seat which is 2 hours away. As an author, I’m very excited to be called. I find the whole process fascinating. I also hope it’s an interesting trial. I can always use these kinds of experiences for my writing.

I mentioned a few weeks ago that the lizard in our front yard was missing his tail. My husband spotted him yesterday and took this picture. You can clearly see where his tail has regrown. Yay little lizard!

Giveaways:

The Summer Giveaway is open! There are 33 participating authors with 33 book prizes and 33 summer gift prizes. The Grand Prize is $100 in Paypal cash. This is certainly a giveaway to get involved with.

Where will I Be?:

I don’t have anything on my calendar until the December Mesa Book Festival. The date is December 14th from 10am – 5pm and the location has changed to 225 E Main St, Mesa. This is the Benedictine University, for those familiar with Mesa. I am sharing a booth space with the wonderful Marsha Ward. The site only promotes the author registering the table, so you’ll only see Marsha’s name, not mine. But I promise, I’ll be there. You can find all the details and a map at https://anthology.org/category/mesa-book-festival/.

On
the other hand, if something juicy comes up, because it’s a long time between
July and December, I’ll let you know. Do you know of an event where you’d like
to see me? I’d love to know about it. Contact me here and say the word.

Newsletter Sign Up:

Click
here to sign up for my newsletter. I’ve put sign-up gifts on the regular and
the SciFi/Fantasy and the Cozy Mystery newsletter sign-ups. That’s right. If
you sign up for my newsletter you get a free story from me. Be prepared for fun
and contests! Click on the video link for a short video from me. Hear what I’m
working on. Join my “A” Team to be the first to read my books and hear what new
books are coming.

Don’t
forget to follow my blog, too. Different material goes in the blog as in the
newsletter. You can share both, so spread the word!

Newest Book Release:

Gold Dreams released May 13th, 2019. It is only up on Amazon, at the moment. The print version is available on Amazon. I just haven’t reformatted the book for the other platforms yet. I’ll do it. Really I will. You can also see all my books on http://conniesrandomthoughts.com/my-books-and-other-published-work/. If you’ve read any of my books, please drop a short, honest, review on the site where you bought it or on Goodreads or BookBub. Your review is critical to help me promote the books to other readers. Thanks in advance.

Thank
you for reading my blog. Like all of the other work I do as an author, it takes
time and money. If you enjoy this Monday blog and the Friday free story and the
recipe I put up on the 25th of every month, consider donating to https://www.paypal.me/ConniesRandomThought. I appreciate any donation to help support
this blog.

Loss, The Party, Critters in the Garage: Monday Blog Post

Mom and her Flowers

Newest News:

Loss.
Since December 31st when I lost my mom, four other friends and
friends of the family passed away. The last on May 31st. I mention
this as a memorial for the friend who passed away on May 31st, was held
Saturday. It was a lovely service and many nice things were said. It hits me
especially hard since my moms passing. I’m more sensitive now to the loss. It
still affects me at different times, especially at last Saturday’s memorial,
even during the reading of the Lord’s Prayer. Tears flowed several times. There’s
still a hole where my mom was. There are still times when I think, “oh, I have
to tell mom about this.” Then, of course, I remember, she’s gone. Sometimes I
cry. Sometimes I can get away with a deep breath. If you’ve lost someone
recently, I feel your pain. I do. Here’s hoping you remember the good times,
the laughter, the quiet moments. And, as I’m being told, take your time with
your grief. Each of us is different and has to process this loss in our own
way. Hugs to you all.

I think because I’m thinking about what to write for November’s National Novel Writing Month, a new Jean Hays is popping herself into my mind. I still haven’t found a military woman who has been stationed in Afghanistan, so book 4 is still in holding. But even so, little glimmers of a new Jean story is letting itself be known. Believe it or not, the next story may require a trip to the local, and only, strip club! Hmm.

It’s
now 15 days until I go to jury duty.

Not in my garage. At least I don’t think so.

Have I mentioned the critter or critters in my garage? They are smart. They’re totally eating the bait off of the traps and leaving them unsprung. Clever little beasties. They started moving into my car. We thought one had crawled into a vent space and died but no. Hubby went to replace an air vent filter and found a big nest in the process of being built. They’d also incorporated the blocks of critter poison we’d put out, in the nest. All four of the blocks. I’m thinking the entire garage needs to be emptied to dislodge the trespassers. Not something either I or hubby are excited about doing but it may be the step before we call the exterminators. What’s your best critter story?

Giveaways:

The Summer Giveaway is open! There are 33 participating authors with 33 book prizes and 33 summer gift prizes. The Grand Prize is $100 in Paypal cash. This is certainly a giveaway to get involved with.

Where will I Be?:

I don’t have anything on my calendar until the December Mesa Book Festival. The date is December 14th from 10am – 5pm and the location has changed to 225 E Main St, Mesa. This is the Benedictine University, for those familiar with Mesa. I am sharing a booth space with the wonderful Marsha Ward. The site only promotes the author registering the table, so you’ll only see Marsha’s name, not mine. But I promise, I’ll be there. You can find all the details and a map at https://anthology.org/category/mesa-book-festival/.

On
the other hand, if something juicy comes up, because it’s a long time between
July and December, I’ll let you know. Do you know of an event where you’d like
to see me? I’d love to know about it. Contact me here and say the word.

Newsletter Sign Up:

Click
here to sign up for my newsletter. I’ve put sign-up gifts on the regular and
the SciFi/Fantasy and the Cozy Mystery newsletter sign-ups. That’s right. If
you sign up for my newsletter you get a free story from me. Be prepared for fun
and contests! Click on the video link for a short video from me. Hear what I’m
working on. Join my “A” Team to be the first to read my books and hear what new
books are coming.

Don’t
forget to follow my blog, too. Different material goes in the blog as in the
newsletter. You can share both, so spread the word!

Newest Book Release:

Gold Dreams released May 13th, 2019. It is only up on Amazon, at the moment. The print version is available on Amazon. I just haven’t reformatted the book for the other platforms yet. I’ll do it. Really I will. You can also see all my books on http://conniesrandomthoughts.com/my-books-and-other-published-work/. If you’ve read any of my books, please drop a short, honest, review on the site where you bought it or on Goodreads or BookBub. Your review is critical to help me promote the books to other readers. Thanks in advance.

Thank
you for reading my blog. Like all of the other work I do as an author, it takes
time and money. If you enjoy this Monday blog and the Friday free story and the
recipe I put up on the 25th of every month, consider donating to https://www.paypal.me/ConniesRandomThought. I appreciate any donation to help support
this blog.

The Party: Chapter 9 – Stacy Zimmer – Flash Fiction Friday Post

Yes, this is political. I offer you trigger warnings for language and sexual
and racist slurs and comments. Future episodes may also contain rape, abuse,
and other unpleasant things.

Chapter 9: Stacy Zimmer

Stacy Zimmer opened the newspaper that had been left behind by someone as
she sat in her local coffee shop. She’d chosen a table in the back. She
couldn’t bring herself to sit anywhere else in the store. A view of the entire
place was in front of her with no windows or doors behind. She felt better that
way. Less chance for error. She hated errors. That’s what got people killed.
She knew that from experience. Lots of experience. But that was past, she
reminded herself. Past. It was over. She was home. No need to be defensive.

The barista called her name and she jumped. Stacy sucked in a breath. No problem,
she told herself. No problem, just coffee. She quickly surveyed the shop, a
couple of grandmas, a lone guy on his laptop, two twenty-something women,
nothing a threat, she assessed as she slid easily from her chair to walk calmly
to the pick-up counter. Nothing to see here. Nothing. Nothing but, she still
eyeballed the guy. Suit, laptop and briefcase. Big enough to hold an IED. No,
she told herself. This is the States. Nothing here. Nothing here.

Her hand shook the cup of mocha latte as she went back to her table.
Nothing. Nothing. It wasn’t working. She felt trapped, here at the back of the
store with no way out. She grabbed her backpack and her drink and headed out
the door. She was three hundred feet from the shop before she could breathe.
Moron, she thought. What the hell? It was just a coffee shop. But that’s not
the newsreel that was rolling through her head. That was different. That was
the sandbox. That was her and her crew, laughing, taking pics with the local
boy selling tea. Tea for Christ’s sake. The boy had called them over. “Tea,” he
said, smiling. They’d all laughed. He couldn’t have been more than ten. “Tea,
Tea.”

Tears ran down her face unnoticed. God damned tea. She’d never drank it
again even though that was her favorite. Her morning ritual. Now it was coffee.
She stopped in the park, sat on a bench. Her breathing came back to normal as
she popped the sipping port on the coffee. She drank and stretched her back
taking a deep breath. It was okay. Not a problem. Just a little scare. Nothing
to be worried about.

In the open she felt better, more secure. Daylight, clear lines of sight.
Not boxed in. Much better. She took a deep breath. Better. Better. She took a
sip of the drink and set it on the bench beside her then took the day’s paper
out of her pack. It was good. Read the paper. Drink the coffee. The birds sang
in the trees nearby and moms were starting to arrive in the park, their little
darlings let out of their carriages and set free to toddle in the grass. Yes.
This was fine.

Then Stacy read the third page. The government was taking veteran’s
retirement and disability funds to create a wall along every continental U.S.
border. All about self-defense, she read. But vet’s payments would be cut by
half to solve the discrepancy. Half? HALF? Stacy lept up. She couldn’t live on
half. Half wouldn’t pay the rent. Half wouldn’t pay for groceries. Half
wouldn’t cover her co-pays for her meds. Even in her mental state, she
understood she needed her meds or she’d be worse off than she was now. No. NO!

A mother walked by, stroller in front of her, staring. Stacy realized she
was hyperventilating, fists clenched, and teeth bared. She shook herself and
tried to smile. The look on the woman’s face made it clear she wasn’t
reassuring anyone. She grabbed her pack and stuffed the paper into it as she
rushed off.

How can this be, she raged as she raced away from the park? I did my time. I
was promised. How can they? How can they?

It was late afternoon when through sheer exhaustion she finally came to
herself. She had no idea where she was but realized she was hunkered down
behind a building, back of a big trash receptacle. A man sat cross-legged a few
feet away.

“Hey.” He gave her a nod from behind another of the big trash bins.

She nodded. “Hey.”

“You okay?”

Stacy drew in a deep breath. Despite having missed her meds schedule, she
did feel almost normal. “Yeah. Think so.”

“Afghanistan?”

She nodded.

“Get that myself from time to time.”

She took another deep breath. A fellow soldier. “Yeah.”

“Flashback?”

She looked him over. Old field jacket, unit patch still on the arm. Greasy
jeans, tattered sneakers about to fall apart. “Kind of.”

He shrugged. There’s a shelter, if you need it. Not too far from here.

She thought it over. It was almost promising. “You stay there?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Hell no. They’ll slit your throat for your
shoes in there.”

She smiled. “Thanks then. I think I’ll pass.”

He nodded. “What set you off, if I may ask?”

“G’ment. Assholes. Taking our pay, our meds.” She still shook. This was too
much.

He spit off to the side she wasn’t on. “Assholes.”

She nodded. “They promised.”

“Yeah. They always promise.”

She looked closer. He was grizzled, wrinkled. He was a lot older. “The
same?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Same old, same old.” He sighed. “What’cha gonna do about
it?”

Stacy blinked. “Do?”

“Yeah. Do. Don’t cha think they’ve about worn out their welcome?”

She ran her fingers through her short brown hair. “Like what?”

“You been readin’ the news the last three years? You think it’s a quirk that
it’s just us white soldiers left? Just takin’ our pay? Just throwin’ us away?
You’re young. You can do something.”

Stacy stared at him. Do something? Fight back? She didn’t think she had
anything left.

He looked at her. “You’ve got the skills.”

She stared back. “So do you.”

Thank you for reading.

The Party – Chapter 8: Captain Flynn – Flash Fiction Friday Post

Yes, this is political. I offer you trigger warnings for language and sexual and racist slurs and comments. Future episodes may also contain rape, abuse, and other unpleasant things.

Chapter 8: Capt Flynn

Captain Tyler Flynn’s notebook chimed with an incoming
message. It was from Commander Green. Flynn sighed. Report to the Colonel immediately.
That was never good he thought as he rose from his desk and headed for the
door.

At the Colonel’s office, the secretary, a Sergeant,
sent him right in. Tyler missed the Colonel’s old secretary, Arlene. She’d been
the Commander’s secretary for at least ten commanders and knew everything there
was to know about the base and how to get things done but since the female
purge two weeks ago, of course, a male had to be put in her place. Sergeant Boyle
was good, but he had to look up everything and just wasn’t as efficient.

Flynn stopped in front of the Commander’s desk and
saluted. “Captain Flynn reporting as ordered, Sir.”

The Commander looked up from his pad and returned the
salute. “Good, Flynn. Have a seat.”

The Captain sat in one of the wooden chairs in front
of the desk.

The Colonel tapped his notebook as he began. “Flynn. I
have some good news.”

Flynn braced himself. In this political climate, he
didn’t trust anyone to have good news.

“We’re restarting the promotion system and you’ve been
selected to be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel.”

Tyler thought for a minute his heart stopped. He consciously
took a breath. “Thank you, Sir. I’m surprised.” He reached across the desk to
shake the Commander’s hand.

“Glad to do it. With the promotion system down for so
long, it made things like retention very difficult. If it had gone
traditionally, you’d be an LC already, so Personnel just caught you up.”
Congratulations, Captain.”

Tyler stood and saluted. “Thank you, Sir. I really
appreciate this.”

The commander stood and returned the salute. “It’s
effective the first of next month so you have time to update your uniforms.”

“This is great news, Colonel Green. My wife is going
to be thrilled.”

“Good.” He sat back down. “That’s all, Captain.”

Flynn pivoted smartly and strode out the door, his
mind bouncing from one thought to the next as we walked back to his office. Once
there, he called his wife, Laura. She suggested they celebrate by going out to
dinner and he agreed.

Word spread as the Colonel brought one officer in after
another to tell them about their promotions. Not a lot of work was getting done
as men traveled from one office to another to congratulate the promotees.

Outside at quitting time, Captain Dean Joyce met Flynn
in the parking lot. “I hear congratulations are in order for you,” he said as
he held out his hand.

Flynn shook it. “You too. Major, right?”

“Yeah. And you went straight to LC. That’s great. You
must have passed the loyalty test.”

“Loyalty test?” Flynn felt as though he’d been punched
in the stomach. “I didn’t take any test.”

“Remember your sister-in-law? That was the test. You
handled her like any other undesirable. Even with her sobbing and begging, you
kept your cool. The higher ups liked that.”

“Oh. Just being professional.”

Joyce clapped him on the shoulder. “Well done, Flynn.
You’re going to be going places now.” He moved on to his car.

Flynn walked slowly to his car, watching Joyce get in
and drive off. A loyalty test, that was what was going on? Zuri’s time in front
of him was excruciating. He couldn’t sleep that night or for several nights he
was so upset about having to pass his own brother’s wife into the system. He’d
argued with his own wife, Laura, about it in strained whispers, because they
both were sure their house was bugged.

He reached his car and got in, but just sat there, not
even rolling down the windows to let the sun baked heat out. How many other
things had he done that were loyalty tests? Tyler tried to think back but
nothing in particular sprang to mind. Wait, he thought, right after the
President announced he was President for Life, a lot of soldiers disappeared.
Had the brass already begun purging the ranks even then? Other things sprang to
mind. Orders tasking him to do crappy missions rounding up undesireables, coloreds,
Jews, and activists. He nodded to himself. All of those were tests to see if he’d
kick up a fuss.

Sweat began to trickle from his armpits. He turned the
car key and rolled down the windows. The fresh air felt good. Tyler pulled on
his seatbelt and put the car in drive then pulled out of his parking spot. And
now, a promotion. Was the testing done? Was he deemed loyal? He’d have to talk
to Laura about this. Let her know. She could be set up for tests, now that she
was a housewife. Who knew which woman was working undercover, looking for malcontents?
She’d have to be careful who she talked to.

He drove home carefully. Traffic violations were now
severely punished. He wondered for a moment about Captain Joyce. How did he
know about the loyalty testing? He worked in Supply. Maybe Joyce was
undercover. Tyler shrugged to himself. Maybe not. With things the way they were
now, anyone could turn in anyone else for suspicious behavior or comments. He’d
have to be careful too. Watch what he said and to whom. He sighed. He missed
the old days. How did they get to this point? It didn’t matter, he thought. We’re
here now and we just have to survive it.

Thank you for reading.

Last Phoenix Fan Fusion T, Social Media, Were You a Female in Afghanistan, Gardening: Monday Blog Post

This is it. The last picture I took of tee-shirts. Hope you’ve enjoyed them!

Newest News:

After
the Phoenix Fan Fusion, I began showing some of the t-shirts from the show. Here
is the last one I took. Many thanks to all of the very nice fans who stopped at
my table so I could take their pictures. You made my day.

Let’s talk social media for a moment. I belong to several sites, and on a couple, I’m really building a following. For example, I’ve passed 700 followers on Bookbub. If you aren’t a follower there, and you love books, you should be. Lots of giveaways there, lots of announcements of free books by your favorite authors. Lots of reviews so you can check out a book before you buy. Then there’s my YouTube channel. I passed 1000 followers on there. I don’t post a lot on there, but there are some amusing things to see. And finally, not really social media, but I do post the occasional newsletter when I have some book news to share. You can find that below. I’d appreciate it if you’d follow me on all three of these places.

I’ve been poking at my next book in the Jean Hays series, Mystery at the Reunion. I know it’s been taking forever but I’ve finally figured out how to fix the draft book. I’m looking for a female military person who has been stationed in Afghanistan. I have some questions about your time in country, so that I can get details correct for a sub-plot in the book. If you did serve, or know someone who did, would you allow me to do an interview? It can be via email, phone, Skype, whatever works. Contact me and we can work out the details.

Gardening. The peaches are small, and some are now ripe. I picked one, because I thought it was a little hard and bit into it. Perfection. Fuzzy, warm from the sun, delicious without being too soft. Of course, some are already being picked at by the birds but that’s all right. There’s plenty for all of us.

Giveaways:

The Summer Giveaway is open! There are 33 participating authors with 33 book prizes and 33 summer gift prizes. The Grand Prize is $100 in Paypal cash. This is certainly a giveaway to get involved with.

Where will I Be?:

Now that the Payson Book Festival is done, I don’t have anything on my calendar until the December Mesa Book Festival. The date is December 14th from 10am – 5pm and the location has changed to 225 E Main St, Mesa. This is the Benedictine University, for those familiar with Mesa. I am sharing a booth space with the wonderful Marsha Ward. The site only promotes the author registering the table, so you’ll only see Marsha’s name, not mine. But I promise, I’ll be there. You can find all the details and a map at https://anthology.org/category/mesa-book-festival/.

On
the other hand, if something juicy comes up, because it’s a long time between
July and December, I’ll let you know. Do you know of an event where you’d like
to see me? I’d love to know about it. Contact me here and say the word.

Newsletter Sign Up:

Click
here to sign up for my newsletter. I’ve put sign-up gifts on the regular and
the SciFi/Fantasy and the Cozy Mystery newsletter sign-ups. That’s right. If
you sign up for my newsletter you get a free story from me. Be prepared for fun
and contests! Click on the video link for a short video from me. Hear what I’m
working on. Join my “A” Team to be the first to read my books and hear what new
books are coming.

Don’t
forget to follow my blog, too. Different material goes in the blog as in the
newsletter. You can share both, so spread the word!

Newest Book Release:

Gold Dreams released May 13th, 2019. It is only up on Amazon, at the moment. I’ll let everyone know when the print version is up and is up on the other platforms. You can also see all my books on http://conniesrandomthoughts.com/my-books-and-other-published-work/. If you’ve read any of my books, please drop a short, honest, review on the site where you bought it or on Goodreads or BookBub. Your review is critical to help me promote the books to other readers. Thanks in advance.

Thank
you for reading my blog. Like all of the other work I do as an author, it takes
time and money. If you enjoy this Monday blog and the Friday free story and the
recipe I put up on the 25th of every month, consider donating to https://www.paypal.me/ConniesRandomThought. I appreciate any donation to help support
this blog.

The Party – Chapter 7: Bill Brown Flash Fiction Friday Post

Yes, this is political. I offer you trigger warnings for language and sexual
and racist slurs and comments. Future episodes may also contain rape, abuse,
and other unpleasant things.

Chapter 7: Bill Brown #9645990

Bill Brown, now known as 9645990, got up on command, went
to the tray window and slid his empty breakfast tray and rice paper spoon inside
then lined up along the cafeteria wall with the others in his cohort. It was
time to go to work.

He’d been surprised when two weeks into this nightmare
he’d been transferred from the facility he’d first been taken to and sent here.

At a command, they all began to march, single file,
out of the cafeteria.

He thought he was going to be shipped to Africa or
something but no. He was here, in a huge factory, where he’d been assigned to
an engineering drafting shop. It made sense, he thought as they marched along.
Why waste perfectly good brain power? The work wasn’t easy, but it was boring,
though fairly matching what he’d been doing his whole adult life. Drafting had
never been his favorite thing to do.

At his office the cohort stopped on command. The guard
shouted out his number. He stepped out of line and saluted. A modified Nazi
salute he had been horrified to learn the second day he’d been at the receiving
facility. That first two weeks was an intensive course in learning that he was
no longer a free man. The bruises had only faded a week ago. The cohort moved
on and he went into his office. There were three other men in there, already at
their drafting tables. No one looked up.

He sat down and picked up his Computer Aided Design pen
without addressing the others. The cameras in the four corners of the ceiling
made sure that they understood that while there was no guard in the room, they
were being watched.

The first week was difficult. He’d never worked on 3-D
CAD software, but much was the same as with the software he had used before so
the learning curve wasn’t too big. After that, the work was dull. This week, according
to specification, draw a gear. Actually, a different gear every day. No one
told them what the purpose was of any of the drawings they completed. But he
did know that everyone in the room was working on mechanical parts. No telling
though, if they belonged to the same project.

That was just one of the things that nagged at him.
Taking pride in his work before always entailed knowing what the big picture
was. What the smaller parts fit into. Now, it was just this. A single drawing. He
was already bored.

A chime rang. Everyone stopped what they were doing and lined up at the door. A guard came and escorted them to an exercise yard. Bill had been surprised, the first day, when he realized they were being allowed outside. “Half an hour,” the guard had said. Some headed for a quarter-mile track where they began walking. Others for a weight area where they began lifting. There was some talk, but only about the weights or the weather. No other conversation.

One guy, number 9062579, introduced himself in a low
voice. “Come with me. We’ll walk.”

Bill nodded and they headed to the track. “I’m Bill.”

“George. But never call me that. That’s a punishable
offence.”

Bill nodded. “We get to do this every day?”

“Rain or shine.” George began swinging his arms
around. “This helps with keeping limber after leaning over the desk all day.”

Bill did the same. “I was surprised how good breakfast
was.”

“Sure. We do work, they feed us well. Gotta keep the
farm animals in tip top shape.”

“What?” Bill stared at George.

George snorted. “That’s what we are now, you know.
Animals. We earn our keep, we get treated well. If we don’t, well, I’ve seen
many a man leave on a stretcher and not return.”

Bill didn’t know what to think about that. “Why?”

“Because good food, exercise, plenty of rest keeps us
in good shape. I’ve lost forty pounds since I’ve been here. No booze, very
little sugar—it’s the diet my doctor had been trying to get me to use for
years.” He snorted again. “He was right. I feel better than I did when I graduated
from college.”

“How long have you been here?”

“About six months.”

That’s when a whistle blew. A guard, back near the
building pointed at them. George waved. “We gotta split up. They don’t like it
when we talk together.”

With that he sped up, leaving Bill to trail behind. Since
he was getting out of breath, he let George go and slowed down a bit. He thought
about what he’d heard. He didn’t like the idea that they were considered farm
animals. But everything to this point had surprised him.

Now, two week later, he pondered everything he knew so
far. He knew he was in a Wagnall Aerospace Industries factory. Their logo was
on everything. That he and the other men were slave labor was obvious. Cheaper,
he realized, to keep the men healthy with good food and exercise, than to feed
them poorly and have them get sick. Sick men didn’t produce well. He swung his
arms around first in sync then as a windmill, then back the other way. George
had been right. It helped with the back strain. And he could tell he was losing
weight, even after two weeks.

But, was this going to be his life forever? Slave
labor? Even if he did get good food and exercise, this isn’t all he wanted. He was
only thirty-six years old. He missed Mara, and the kids. Maybe he could write
them? This was really the first time he’d had time to think about more than
surviving these new circumstances. Who could he ask? He’d try his cohort guard.
That’s who they were supposed to go to with issues.

He took a breath and at the chime, started back to the
building. Yes. He’d ask Officer Fernald. He already felt better.

Thank you for reading.