book Promo
If you wish to send us books for next week’s promo, please email to bookpimping at outlook dot com. If you feel a need to re-promo the same book do so no more than once every six months (unless you’re me or my relative. Deal.) One book per author per week. Amazon links only. Oh, yeah, by clicking through and buying (anything, actually) through one of the links below, you will at no cost to you be giving a portion of your purchase to support ATH through our associates number. I ALSO WISH TO REMIND OUR READERS THAT IF THEY WANT TO TIP THE BLOGGER WITHOUT SPENDING EXTRA MONEY, CLICKING TO AMAZON THROUGH ONE OF THE BOOK LINKS ON THE RIGHT, WILL GIVE US SOME AMOUNT OF MONEY FOR PURCHASES MADE IN THE NEXT 24HOURS, OR UNTIL YOU CLICK ANOTHER ASSOCIATE’S LINK. PLEASE CONSIDER CLICKING THROUGH ONE OF THOSE LINKS BEFORE SEARCHING FOR THAT SHED, BIG SCREEN TV, GAMING COMPUTER OR CONSERVATORY YOU WISH TO BUY. That helps defray my time cost of about 2 hours a day on the blog, time probably better spent on fiction. ;)*
FROM DAVE FREER: Bolg, PI: The Bolg and the Beautiful
A humorous, satirical noir detective urban fantasy, set in a small city in flyover country, which has an unusually high population of Trolls, werewolves, fairies and a dwarf.
Private Investigator Bolg, a Pictish gentleman who happens to be vertically challenging, a self-proclaimed dwarf and tattooed so heavily he appears blue, finds himself called on undertake paranormal cases: This time it’s a retired Fertility Goddess, and her daughter, who’ve been robbed by a con-man from their friendly neighborhood bank. They want a Norse berserker, with a two-handed axe loose in the banking hall. Instead they get Bolg trying to recover their money. The bank might prefer the berserker too.
FROM MARTIN L. SHOEMAKER: Blue Collar Space
The future doesn’t just happen… Somebody has to build it.Martin L. Shoemaker, author of “Today I Am Paul”, presents stories of ordinary people doing extraordinary work. Planning, exploring, constructing… living and growing and dying… across the Solar System.Includes these award-winning stories:Scramble (second place, Jim Baen Memorial Short Story Award, 2012)Unrefined (third place, Writers of the Future, 2014)Racing to Mars (first place, Analog Analytical Laboratory award, 2016)Plus seven more stories!
FROM M. C. A. HOGARTH: The Worth of a Shell (The Stone Moon Trilogy Book 1)
Born to a harsh world, we Jokka have evolved three sexes to survive: neuter, male and female. Twice in our lives we may change from one to another. A change we accept with grace… or resignation. It was our way. …until one female defied all tradition: Dlane Ashoi-anadi, revolutionary, intentionally childless, runaway.
This is not her story.
This is mine.
I am Thenet Reña-eperu, female-guardian, voice of orthodoxy… and Dlane’s first and dearest companion. This is the tale of how we changed each other… and how that changed everything.
Book 1 of the Stone Moon Trilogy (continues with Book 2: Pearl in the Void, and Book 3: A Bloom in the North).
FROM C. V. WALTER: Wed to the Alien Prince: A Fated Mates SciFi Alien Romance (Alien Brides Book 3)
Kaelin knows an alien when she sees one. The trick, given her eyesight, is actually getting close enough to see them. She might as well wish upon a falling star!
Against all odds, one just walked right up to her and introduced himself as Roger. He’s on a mission from Molly, the friend she’s traveled half-way across the country to see, with news of her alien ever after and a shopping list. Apparently, the best technology in the galaxy isn’t stocked with hair conditioner…
When their hands touch, everything changes. Kaelin has a chance to become everything she ever wished she could be… but it will cost her everything she currently is.
Prince Serogero has found the perfect match in an imperfect woman. When he catches her during a seizure, everything he assumed finding his mate would mean is turned upside down. His people’s technology can help her, if she lets it, but at what cost to her, and to him? When his duties and her safety conflict, can they create a happy ending?
FROM CELIA HAYES AND JEANNE HAYDEN: Luna City: Number 9, Number 9 Number 9.
Welcome to Luna City, Karnes County, Texas … Population 2,457, give or take! Fugitive former celebrity chef Richard Astor-Hall faces a new challenge in this new Luna City chapter; celebrating Christmas with Kate Heisel’s extended family, while Jess and Joe Vaughn cope with a pending addition to their family, Xavier Gunnison-Penn the world’s most unsuccessful professional treasure-hunter finally finds a treasure and true love … and Miss Letty McAllister, the oldest inhabitant of Luna City reveals what happened half a century before, when bootlegger and former bandit, Charley Mills was nearly lynched by outraged citizens from the biggest oak tree in Town Square. More folklore, home folks and gentle comedy abound in this ninth outing to the most perfect small town in Texas.
FROM AMANDA S. GREEN: Fire Striker (Tearing the Veil Book 1)
Some say monsters aren’t real. Others say the only monsters are those people who aren’t fully human: the witches and shapeshifters, elves and dwarves, and all the others who one day stepped out of the realm of fairy tales and into “real life”. Morgan Walsh knows the truth. Monsters come in all shapes and sizes, and some of the worst are human.
She didn’t start out life as Morgan Walsh. Once upon a time, her name was Adriana Grace Hensen. Everything, including her name, changed the day she turned thirteen. That day she learned several lessons she’d never forget. The first was that monsters were real. The second was that her parents were two of the worst “monsters” alive. The third was that those you trust the most can and will turn on you.
Morgan’s parents betrayed her because she wasn’t “human”. Now she’s back with one goal in mind: vengeance.
Never, ever conspire against a Fire Elemental, especially one with other “talents” as well. When you do, you’d best be prepared to get burned.
FROM ELLIE FERGUSON: Danger Foretold (Eerie Side of the Tracks Book 5).
Mossy Creek, TX is not your normal town. For more than a century, it’s been a haven to Others, people with special “talents”. Magic and shapeshifting are normal there. Others and Normals co-exist as friends, neighbors, lovers and family. But all that is in danger of being destroyed as an untold evil comes to town, determined to destroy not only those sworn to protect the town and all who live there but the very town itself.
Mossy Creek’s wayward children have returned, one by one, to town. Annie Grissom Caldwell, Quinn O’Donnell, and Meg Sheridan are back and determined to do all they can to stand between their town and the oncoming danger. Dr. Jax Powell, the Rogue, leads them and, in her role as one of the town’s Guardians, will do whatever it takes to keep everyone safe. But another of their group, Maddy Reyes, may very well hold the key to victory.
But can they trust her?
Do they dare?
FROM ANNA FERREIRA: Christmas at Blackheath
Agnes Rawlins would never dream of showing a melancholy face to her brother’s guests. She may be a spinster, and treated little better than any common housekeeper, but she is responsible for bringing Christmas cheer into the dark and rambling Blackheath Manor, and she does not shirk her duty, even when she has little reason to celebrate.
William Marlowe, Viscount Claridge, has reluctantly accepted an invitation to spend the Christmas season at Blackheath. It’s not his first choice- how anyone could wish to spend time in the gloomy manor house is beyond him- but when he meets the kind and gentle lady of the house, he finds that Christmas at Blackheath might not be so bad after all.
FROM T. L. KNIGHTON: Army of the Forsaken
Korr has watched as the young, exiled King Darvos is coming into his own, but he still has much to learn. That education is interrupted by a threat to the Bohgan lands they have called home.
Meanwhile, Duke Orlandis continues to seek Darvos, the last real threat to his claim on the Altrian throne. To find him, he’s enlisted the most despicable allies possible.
When these forces make a mistake that could threaten a budding alliance, Princess Lauranna and Darvos find themselves knee deep in a fight of their own.
FROM MACKEY CHANDLER: Another Word for Magic
Fleeing the Solar System after an attack by North America, the three Home habitats now have to seek their own fortunes. Heather, Sovereign of Central on the Moon saved them but now has to make certain the USNA can never threaten them again.
What was a tentative research partnership with the Red Tree Clan of Derfhome becomes a full alliance of equals. Lee finds she has to grasp authority and act for the Red Tree Mothers and herself to repossess the planet Providence she and Gordon discovered. The Claims Commission on Earth has collapsed without the leadership of North America. Explorers like her are cut off from their payments and the colonists on Providence are left in the lurch too. To do that she needs these powerful new allies.
Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike.
So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.
So what’s a vignette? You might know them as flash fiction, or even just sketches. We will provide a prompt each Sunday that you can use directly (including it in your work) or just as an inspiration. You, in turn, will write about 50 words (yes, we are going for short shorts! Not even a Drabble 100 words, just half that!). Then post it! For an additional challenge, you can aim to make it exactly 50 words, if you like.
If you have questions, feel free to ask.
Your writing prompt this week is: TOE
According To Hoyt 
“You Crazy Lovable Man! I didn’t mean Terms Of Engagement! I meant the things on your feet!”
“Of course Lovely Lady! But I wanted to know what it would take for us to become engaged and later marry.”
Note, my crazy mind saw TOE and thought of ROE (Rules Of Engagement). 😀
For some bizarre reason I went to “Table of Organization and Equipment.” Terms of Engagement sounds more plausible!
I cam up witi Terawatts of Energy.
“My god, man! Are you telling me interstellar peace was shattered because at the Sirenian homeworld’s Ceremonial Opening of The Nude Beaches our idiot of an ambassador refused to engage in the proper barefoot respect to the sacred rope separating Land from Sea?”
“Yes, sir. He didn’t toe the line.”
Wagmeister removed the flask from the burner and held it up to the light. The reaction was perfect, but still he shook the flask slightly, stirring its contents. The liquid swirled silently in its container. Dissatisfied by the result, he shook it harder resulting in a audible ‘blorp!’
“Wagmeister!” Ossin called over his shoulder, “How many times must I tell you how irritating that is!” If the reaction required agitation you put a twister in and set it on the mixer, understand?”
Wagmeister set the flask down and regarded Ossin’s back. He hated the man with every fiber… But, Ossin was the boss and other than such trivial irritants, Wagmeister did as he was told.
“Ok, Boss!” he called out watching Ossin’s back hunch in anger.
“Don’t call me that! I’ve told you a hundred times! My name is MISTER Ossin. I’ve a good mind to report you to the dean for insubordination!”
Wagmeister looked around the bare tables of the ancient lab wondering if that wouldn’t be a blessing in disguise. “Yes, sir, boss, sir. I’ll wrap that rope around my waist and tow the line, from now on!”
Ossing stifled a scream and whirled to face Wagmiester.
“Tow! No! No! NO! I’ve told you all about this before! It’s TOE the line! With your feet!”
“But ‘tow’ is just as acceptable…”
“No!” With that last shout, Ossin grabbed one of the antique-looking wooden chairs from below the lab table. With a jerk he raised it above his head as Wagmeister cowered in fear.
“TOE!” he screamed as he brought the chair down.
“TOE! TOE! TOE!”
Panting hard, Ossin dropped the shattered remains of the chair to the floor.
Beneath him Wagmeister’s sightless eyes seemed to stare and the swirl of the marbled tiles.
On his lips were the remnants of a grin.
I love “Blue Collar Space” by Shoemaker. Collection of fun stories. Will my Sarah Hoyt books grow electronic whiskers from waiting on top of the TBR pile? Or will they patiently wait as I saw some more wood for this winter? I am obsessed with “more firewood.” Thank-you Sarah A. Hoyt.
“What’s that on your toe?”
“A football.”
“Why’s that on your toe?”
“Superglue.”
“I could’a toed you so.”
“And you’re a toedal jerk!”
“That was the most incompetent assassination attempt I ever heard of.”
“Was it?”
“What do you mean? El Presidente was shot in the foot! He almost lost a toe! If that ain’t incompetence, what is?”
“When I hear about an unsuccessful assassination, I can’t help but wonder whether it was ever intended to be successful in the first place. Of course, I’ve sometimes been accused of having a cynical and suspicious nature.”
Especially if the “incompetent” assassin gets away safely after the “attempt”. 😈
I would say an exaggerated view of the capabilities of mankind, first.
When Fraud Fauci calls for more lock downs, how many fools and tyrants will toe the line?
Try ‘Fauxi’ — from the French ‘faux’ meaning false or phony.
Try “Falsie”. Easier to explain.
That’s what I’ve been saying, for some time now.
“Are you a cow?” Classic.
That was to Mary, below a couple lines… damn WordPress.
Neigh.
“How’s a fine lady like you still single?” said Steve ingratiatingly.
“I’m not,” said Vanessa. “I wear my wedding ring on my toe. Religious reasons.”
Nonplussed, Steve started to retreat; then he paused, glanced down, and narrowed his eyes skeptically. “In *those* shoes?”
“An intelligent bachelor,” Vanessa marveled. “Diogenes!…”
OFF TOPIC, BUT URGENT-ISH
I have a grandson whom I’ve never met. Now pre-school age. Please recommend books for pre-schooler/kindergarteners
Sandra Boyton. I particularly recommend But Not the Hippopotamus.
The ‘zon has/had a couple of Dr. Seuss compilations. My 1 year-old great nephew loves him some Seuss.
I think they’ve been cancelled at schools because reasons.
Can’t miss with Where the Wild Things Are.
Don’t Let The Pigeon Drive the Bus
The Monster at the End of this Book
I recall being quite attached to Robert Lopshire’s “Put Me in the Zoo” at that age.
Her mother looked her over, from her head to her toes, in silence, without so much as a comment on her appearance. The train rattled on, into an orchard filled with ripe peaches, out into wheat fields.
As they clattered over a bridge, Ava began to hope it was over.
Now why do I think that it’s not over? 😉
I’m sure I don’t know. 0:)
Somethin’s agonna happen! I kin feel it!
She could not tell the color of his robe, perhaps charcoal gray, but, with its hood, it covered him from head to toe. The mask was plain metal, of some kind, with eye holes and a beak-nose. She scowled. She had seen such things, in illustrations of doctors long ago.
The waitress was young, blond-haired, with fingernails and toenails (visible through sandals) a garish red next to the delicate pink of her uniform.
Red hurried up to the counter and sat. The menu lay beneath the plastic countertop, and she read. The waitress ambled over.
Eggs, thought Red, and bacon.
“Not a touchdown! What is the ref thinking!”
“Nah, incomplete pass.”
“But he caught it!”
“Yeah, he did. But this the NFL, not college. He didn’t get the second toe down inbounds.”
“Hey, the Jussie Smollett trial starts this week.”
“The what?”
“You remember, a couple of years ago that actor got beat up? All the media called it a homophobic attack by a bunch of right-wing Trump supporters — until it turned out he’d staged the whole thing hoping to prop up the show’s lousy ratings.”
“You mean…”
“That’s right. It was nothing but a False Fag operation.”
Max couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. He was an athlete – but a sadistic defender was nothing compared to asking a simple question!
“Cari,” he stammered, “I wanted to ask…see, the Sports Association Ball is next weekend, and…”
“Quit staring at your toes, Max,” said Cari. “I’m up here!”
Apparently my eternal fate was to wander hell in the dark with furniture eternally out of place. Was I even dead? The guide had said I was. Did the dead have toes to break?
Light flared, so bright it drowned all shadows. Oh. Not hell, and not dead.
Far worse.
The aroma awakened David Cambridge, but the first things he saw were bare feet with painted toenails. Looking up, he saw Cherry Parker standing by his bed. She was wearing one of his old tee-shirts. Where did she find that?
“I hope it’s okay,” she said. “I cooked us breakfast.”
Steffi hadn’t expected her husband to bring up business this close to bedtime, but Reggie was clearly not pleased with something. He pushed a tablet into her hand, pointed to the website he’d pulled up. “You really need to talk with the kids at Shepardsport Pirate Radio about their sloppy blogging. The expression is ‘toe the line,’ with an e, not t-o-w. It comes from the old Navy practice of having sailors stand with the toes on the joint between two deck timbers to help them stand at attention more easily. It has nothing to do with tow ropes, or any other kind of line.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Steffi brought up the tablet’s virtual keyboard. “On a QWERTY keyboard, the w and e keys are right beside each other, so it would be very easy for an inexperienced typist to hit the wrong one by mistake. And it’s not exactly something that spell-checkers or autocorrect is going to catch–”
“Then they need to get someone else to check their work before they post, so they don’t make the whole thing look sloppy and amateurish.”
Steffi could tell there could be no further argument. But then Reggie was a naval aviator by training, a graduate of the US Naval Academy, so he had little patience for excuses, even from the young and inexperienced.
Sergeant, I picked your team for field testing of the Tactical Osmium Eliminator anti-armor weapon system since they had the best results in initial familiarization. How did they do against the first target series?
I appreciate your confidence in my crew’s comeptence on the TOE, Sir. The targets? Nailed ‘em.
Joe, did you see the Toe Truck when you were in Seattle?
Ross, what are you talking about?
The Toe Truck was one of Seattle’s iconic bits of quirkiness, before the place went all stupid. It’s a tow truck that looks like a foot, thus “Toe Truck”. A rolling pun.
A “rolling pun”? Was someone baked?
The idea might have been half-baked, along with the Elephant car wash & duck boats
Duck boats – very low-flying boats.
Midshipman Blaise, would you care to explain to the inquest where you picked up the notion that the proper response to the phrase “Toe the Line” was to kick the anchor release mechanism?
Corporal Smithers limped into the canteen.
“Geez, Smithers, what happened to you?” asked Corporal Hargraves.
“Just back from the field after three days of small-unit maneuvers,” replied Smithers.
“What did you do — drop a 155mm shell on your foot?”
“No. It happens a lot out there — it’s call Tactic Toe.”
Local TOE Cyber Team:Alpha:
1 Bde: 12 Operators, MSGT Howell
3 x Dell Optiplex 990, Windows 10, Cyberapp v 7.5.2
2 Bde: 12 Operators, TSGT Cooper
2 x Dell Optiplex 990, Windows 10, Cyberapp v 7.5.2
1 x Dell Optiplex 790, Windows 10, Cyberapp v 7.4.9
3 Bde: 10 Operators, 2 Open Requisitions, TSGT Parker
3 x Dell Optiplex 390, Windows 10, Cyberapp v 7.4.4
We are expecting a hardware refit in the next 5 or six years, as we have run out of spare parts and the supply of off-lease PCs has dried up. It has come to our attention that a 4 Bde is expected by Central Command; but we will require additional workspace and equipment unless we are to strip the existing teams.
Took a while to come up with this one but here goes! As many vignettes end up taking place at this particular watering hole I really need to come up with a name for it… Hope you don’t mind me consulting you about it at some point if you read this, Dingus!
—
A violent cacophony made Maximilian stop short before entering Sōgyū Kuroda’s bar. Loud sounds coming from the establishment were hardly unusual; as fond as he was of the man Maximilian could readily admit that Kuroda-san was a curmudgeon who could hardly go two hours without yelling at a customer. The loud thumping sounds accompanying the loud Azuman curses that he heard were much more concerning, however. The knight lowered his hand to his sword and glanced in one of the front windows, hoping to get a good look at what was happening.
He chuckled at what he saw, relaxing his stance. Kuroda-san was nowhere to be found, rather a stately Azuman woman in a purple kimono was standing behind the counter pouring drinks. If she was working the bar there was likely a very entertaining reason for the both the noises and the proprietor’s absence. Satisfied, he walked away from the window and through the door, taking his usual seat.
“Good evening, Yukari-san,” he greeted the woman, offering her a pleasant smile. “What has your husband gotten himself into this time?”
“Good evening, Amsel-san,” she returned the greeting, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Sōgyū stubbed his toe on the bar and dropped a bottle cheap sake on his other foot. Cue his usual kabuki dance.”
“A tragic tale indeed.” the swordsman remarked, placing his usual order once he stopped laughing.