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. A COMMISSION IS EARNED FROM EACH PURCHASE.*Note that I haven’t read most of these books (my reading is eclectic and “craving led”,) and apply the usual cautions to buying. – SAH
FROM SHANE GRIES: The Thin Dead Line
On a hot July day on the plains of Kansas a US Army mechanized infantry company from the 1st Infantry Division gets a very vague warning order and the young troopers saddle up on their steel beasts to go try to control “civil unrest”, whatever that means. Police in a small town start firing on people in self defense, people who seem to have gone violently insane. A prisoner at Fort Leavenworth out on work detail sees a strange murder and is forced to make a run for it. As the situation starts to descend into chaos, confused orders are given, old sins are forgiven in exchange for needed help and the Bradleys and Abrams soldiers fight a desperate battle using every weapon on hand. Chaos reigns in the heartland of America, spreading ever outward.
The Apocalypse written as only a veteran infantryman can, The Thin Dead Line is set as a companion series to the best selling Irregular Scout Team One by J.F. Holmes.
FROM BONNIE RAMTHUN: The Dagger of Incredible Ability: Book Two of the Centerville Chronicles
With great power comes major trouble…
The last time Ray Sebastian got his hands on a magical artifact, it turned out to be the most dangerous thing in the world. But this time, he’s discovered a magic dagger that seems too good to be true. One touch from this dagger bestows incredible abilities—Ray transforms from a wimp to a kung-fu master, his friend Clancy gets the ability to shoot like Robin Hood, and even Ray’s pokey dad instantly learns to drive like a NASCAR legend. Who wouldn’t want an artifact like that?
And that’s the problem. Everyone wants it.
By everyone, that doesn’t just mean the enemies Ray knows about, like the secret society that controls half of Centerville. It also means black-suited squads of mysterious government agents who will stop at nothing to get the dagger for their own agenda. And worst of all, it means the new kid at school, Finn Chatsworth—a genius level super-bully that wants much, much more than to make Ray’s life miserable.
If Ray isn’t careful, he’s going to lose everything—the dagger, his freedom, his family, his friendship with Clancy… and even the one thing he never asked for: his destiny as The Shining One.
BY OTIS ADELBERT KLINE AND ALLEN S. KLINE, PUBLISHED AND A INTRODUCED BY D. JASON FLEMING: The Secret Kingdom (Annotated): The classic pulp lost civilization adventure
Scientist-adventurer Alfred Bell didn’t go to the unexplored depths of the Amazon for adventure, not even for glory — he simply wanted to find and catalog species of flora and fauna the civilized world hadn’t yet discovered. But when he finds a man about to be attacked by a wild beast, he doesn’t hesitate, and with a rifle shot he saves a life and forever alters his own.
For Bell didn’t just save a man, but a king, a king of a civilization that does not want to be found by the outside world. Being imprisoned in a hidden mountain city wasn’t such a bad deal, though — after all, the king was his buddy, and suddenly having six adoring wives could have been worse. Now if only the high priest of the kingdom wasn’t trying to kill him…
This iktaPOP Media edition includes a new introduction giving genre and historical context to the novel.
FROM LINDSAY PETERSEN: The Reluctant Chrononaut
Kate Thomason, twenty-first century healer, is snatched from an eight-handed clone massage in twenty-ninety-seven by H. G. Wells’ time machine. She awakes in Wells’ bedroom in eighteen-ninety-seven, wearing only a sheer peignoir. Whatever could Wells want her for? He tells her he can’t send her back; what shall she do in a world wholly foreign to her?
Soon Wells presents her at dinner to playwright Oscar Wilde, newspaperman Frank Harris, Professor Aronnax and others. Kate’s scandalous bodice isn’t the only thing on the guests’ minds that evening; Professor Aronnax proposes taking the Nautilus to hunt for the Loch Ness Monster.
The gentlemen are all for the adventure. But what of Kate? Why would she risk such an adventure? The only people she knows will be leaving her alone in London, and her healing skills might be needed on this expedition which all agree will court danger. Surely her skill and modern scientific attitude will serve the expedition well!
This is the first entry in a series of six; the others are free for the cost of your e-mail.
FROM HOLLY CHISM: The Godshead
Food and drink for sale; snark for free…
It’s hard to be a god nobody believes in, sometimes. Especially when one spends their days trying to quietly go about his or her life in a world that barely remembers the myths surrounding the old Greek gods, but where some religions still follow the old Norse gods.
FROM LAURA MONTGOMERY: Manx Prize
Charlotte Fisher lives under colliding skies.
It’s the second half of the twenty-first century, and mankind has reached Earth orbit but not much farther. Orbital debris is a by-product of the industrial activity, and it’s dangerous both to everyone up there and the bottom lines of the corporations offering a prize to get rid of it.
Charlotte heads up a team chasing the Manx Prize for the first successful, controlled de-orbit of a dead satellite. To win, she and her team must out-think and out-engineer a cheating competitor, dodge a collusive regulator, and withstand the temptations offered by a large and powerful seastead.
The sky’s not the limit. It’s the challenge.
If you like hard science fiction, impossible odds, and a touch of romance, you’ll love Laura Montgomery’s Manx Prize. Buy Manx Prize to join the race for space today!
FROM MARY CATELLI: Sorcery and Kings.
Tales of wonder and magic.
A fire master must find a magical starter of fires.
A mysterious queen holds a ball in a city filled with magic.
Magic of roses and gold are needed to fight a dreadful war.
An oath keeps a ghost captive.
FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: Ice Storm
Everywhere Evangeline looks, a thin coating of ice makes objects gleam in the sunlight. However, the beauty proves deceptive, for it hides a deadly secret, one only she can recognize.
In her youth, Evangeline had aspired ot master the powerful magics of her world. Those dreams died the day her Gift awakened uncontrolled and plunged her into a vision of a full fleet battle. The Admiral’s Gift will not be denied, and for Evangeline there was no choice but to trade her mage’s robes for Navy blue.
Now she is faced with an enemy she cannot fight save by magic. Except those who bear the Admiral’s gift are forever barred from working magic.
FROM CHRISTOPHER WOERNER: Resist
The latest book, collecting thoughts and essays that have brought us to this point. I keep trying to analyze why we’re here and what to do about it. No idea if that does any good but it’s obviously what I’m here for. We never expected to end up to this sort of existence. I’m trying to promote going on strike and fighting back. At this point, it’s basically all I have to offer.
There’s also comic strips on the B-side, collecting all the work I’ve done on The Struggling to this point. I was just a couple of minor jokes I killed time with in 2015 on my last Army deployment, but all of a sudden I’ve been adding more. They’re basically the same topics as covered on the A-side of the book, just, y’know, as comic strips.
FROM D. LAW DOG, CEDAR SANDERSON, JL CURTIS, C.V. WALTER AND OTHERS: Space Cowboys
There’s something about the Cowboy that speaks to us all. So it only makes sense that, as humans expand into space, they’re going to bring their Cowboys with them.
Join 10 authors as they explore what Space Cowboys would look like, why we love them, and how they deal with the livestock that travels with humanity.
On the fifteenth there will be a novella called Lights Out and Cry in the shifters series. I didn’t mean for it to be essential in the sequence, but…. well, it is. And I meant to have it up for pre-order today, but whatever has been getting to me (probably autoimmune, judging by the eczema flare) has floored me since about noon yesterday. So I’m going to load up on Benadryl and go back to bed. (Nothing to be worried about, just part of my body’s ongoing attempt to off me. It’s failed for 60 years so, so far so good.) But except for my going over copyedits it’s ready to go so I’ll have it up by Wednesday. Hopefully I’ll remember to promote. — SAH.
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.
We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.
If you have questions, feel free to ask.
Your writing prompt this week is: HOLIDAY
50 thoughts on “Book Promo and Vignettes by Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike”
Flyby c4c. I should drop in later to deliver a scene of some description. In the meantime, fire at will.
Poor Will! What did he do to deserve that?
I’ll try to put something up later as well.
“Is it a real Holiday when you’re sicker than a dog”?
“Hey human, you can’t be sicker than a dog!”.
“Billie, I know,” said the Time Traveler, “the tune is a horror and you wretch every time you sing it. I do NOT ask you to sing it for me. I wish there was an easier way, but it must be YOUR voice. I ask that you record it – the future needs to hear it, and feel the pain of it. If you never sing it again, fine. But.. please, make a recording of Strange Fruit. Maybe it can help keep the future from repeating the horrors of its past.”
Oh, that’s sneaky. How do bovines get that sneaky? They’re not exactly built for it.
That’d be telling. }:o)
FDR called a Bank Holiday in March of 33
Just a month later he stole all the country’ gold
Some things just never get old
Just saw an announcement the Feds are auctioning off SVB.
That’s what’s supposed to happen, if they can’t find a buyer they’ll liquidate it over time and the insurance fund will pay out. Rumor is they’ll bailout all the depositors. If it were a rural bank in Trump,country they’d wouldn’t even consider it. Socialism for the rich yet again. I hate these people.
Here we go here we go here we go Signature Bank. Gone First Republic tick tick tick.
In TBTF, Citi has hot deposits like these idiots, BAc the Unrecognized loss.
I thought about asking you. I saw the WSJ summary.
Thanks for boosting the signal! Looking forward to adding to the TBR list!
“Holiday? We don’t give holidays. You should have read your employment contract a little closer. Now get back to work!” Greebo smiled showing his sharp pointed teeth as he stalked off.
“Oh, how charming and suitable!” said Charlotte-Rose. “How clever of you to realize that she would have none!”
Ava blinked. Julian held some, red ribbons? She frowned.
“It will be necessary for the prince’s betrothed to wear something red for the festivities,” said Delia, as if she were Ava’s governess.
‘This timeline has no heart.’
”What do you mean, Basil?’
‘Everything is superficial, peripheral! I don’t know why, but every day is a hollow day.’
For months, the titles of these promo posts have been “BOOK PROMO AND VIGNETTES BY BY LUKE, MARY CATELLI AND ‘NOTHER MIKE”
Did somebody’s proofreader take a holiday? 😀
Huh. I didn’t even notice it. Had to stare at it for several seconds even after you pointed it out. I used to be a pretty damn sharp proofreader, but I guess years of reading on the internet at speed has trained me to ignore all the little speedbumps.
No. I copied pasta-ed.
Remind me before next Sunday. I’m so out of it, I wouldn’t notice, otherwise.
Because if you shout, “Mike!”, half the readership comes running.
Was once on the air, and were, as we do, going by callsigns, and I goofed… and said, “Hey Mike…” and of the various folks (7 or 8) I was the only one NOT named ‘Mike’. This lead to my claim that, “Every Tom, Dick, and Harry is named Mike.”
Steve is just as bad, believe me.
Meanwhile back on earth, we find William Gregory, Captain and pilot of Grayhound’s Mars/Venus run, ferrying family and friends to his south sea island hideaway.
George, catching a ride on Gregory’s 34th trip noted such was a curious way to spend a vacation.
Capt. Gregory responded; “It’s a busman’s holiday.”
“I’m drowning in choices here,” I grumbled. “Sayuri can actually invite her friends-namely me and the rest of the Companions-on summer holidays as long as she stays in Japan and is available for miai. Deborah doesn’t care, as long as she’s with me. Aretta wants me to visit her home in Narobi, because her family wants to meet me.”
“There’s the security issues of Africa, miss,” Nelson shrugged.
“A Solist, at least four Companions, and enough Servants that can count as a short infantry battalion with everything short of tube artillery and tanks?” I snorted. “Other people have security issues from us. Getting back onto subject, Catherine wants me to visit her family and speak with the hamadryad that she knows. Belladona wants me to visit her family in Naples. And the security issues are slightly worse because we can’t just drop a six-tube salvo of 120mm mortar rounds on a mafia safehouse.”
“And Belladona will want to follow up with a physical sweep,” Viola sighed. “I know the Magos chooses carefully who are your Companions, but she worries me at times.”
“I’m worried about her enthusiasm, not her judgement,” I chuckled. “Finally, we have Pietro because he’s the gender inverted issue that I’ve had for nearly three years, we haven’t found out why and my clock is running a lot lower than his. Barely ten hours as a boy if I flip.”
“I can’t miss today. I have too much work to do. And I doubt St. Christopher will mind if I don’t celebrate his feast day by being away from work.”
“You know, Becky, you’re the only person I know who would complain about being off on a Busman’s Holy Day.”
Grooooaaaannnn. hauls back on carpapult lanyard with teeth
On holiday at Alton Towers, young Nigel wondered idly if Lily would be scared whilst riding the The Smiler. Of course, once the roller coaster made its first loop-the-loop, Nigel forgot all about Lily. Had he been brave enough to open his eyes, he would have seen Lily’s unperturbed serenity.
The sword came free, stained with blood. The snake flopped, unliving, to the ground.
Time for celebration, Autumn thought, and color caught her eye.
The bird, sitting on the branch, lifted up its blue head and its wings flew out in scarlet and gold and green, filling the air with more color than in the banners and garlands of a holiday. Something fell, and Autumn put out her hand to grab it.
A moment later, or perhaps several minutes, she stood in the forest. No sign of the bird, or its nest, or the snake. She held a clockwork egg.
Instead of watching the absolutely gobsmacking schlock “Invasion of the Bee Girls”, may I present the Evasion of the Bee Boys?
And trust me. Please, for the love of God and your sanity, don’t watch the one in quotes.
It’s worse than letting Doc Holiday take care of your teeth…
Nonsense, Invasion of the Bee Girls is wonderful ’70s schlock, with bonus naked Victoria Vetri. No movie with Victoria Vetri naked in it can be that bad, on principle. Very silly, grainy film stock, and a screenplay by Nicholas Meyer, whose genre pedigree is impeccable, both on film and in print — Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, Time After Time, The Seven Per-Cent Solution, and more.
Now, if you just want painfully bad, something like Drive-In Massacre more than fits that bill. For atmospheric weird ’70s shlock, Messiah of Evil is a good bet. And for true gobsmacking, jaw-dropping WTFery, 1980’s Cannon Films disco musical The Apple is the way to go.
From the accounts I’ve read, Doc was actually a pretty good dentist; it just didn’t pay as well as his other professions…..
He had tuberculosis. He coughed. Possibly into patients’ faces, open mouths?
Not saying he had no skill. It’s the other things he brought with him. :-\
Okay, one specific case where masking of the care provider might actually have been beneficial.
Not really. They had no fitty-cent Chinese face-diapers in America at the time. And I doubt Dr. Lister’s research had penetrated Arizona by then.
I sense an “uh-oh!”
That was supposed to refer to Mary’s post above. Operator error.
Unnerving, but not actually an error.
Mind you, she’s not going to figure what it is until the end of the novel. . . .
Molly waited in the elevator, cringing as Madonna’s “Holiday” started playing over the speaker. She hated that song. Her target always worked late. But she was finally on her way. The elevator doors parted, and Molly stepped forward, her suppressed .32 coming up for two shots to the face as she held the door close button.
The hallway’s tile floor would be so much easier than the elevator’s carpet for the janitors to deal with in the morning.
As if either Kevin or Ewan would bother to return with a prospect of a kingdom in hand, or woo a princess without one! He rose.
He did not feel assuaged at the innkeeper’s jovial assertion that he had drunk as for a festival, and his brothers had left him to sleep it off because he would not be roused. He had not drunk enough to forget drinking less than usual and telling them he would go to bed early given his hard day’s travel.
But once he rode off, and asked along the way, no one remembered his brothers.
As the giant wheel lifted them above the fairgrounds, Cari and Max could see for miles. “I love how the city looks this time of year,” said Cari, “All the lights!”
I love how the lights dance on your eyes, thought Max, but he was too shy to say so.
Master Edgar nodded and did not offer that he was just as glad to evade the saint’s feast in the town. He was not sure who the saint was, and was quite sure that little honor was paid.
Besides, he might need a favor from the family, some day soon.
Time flies when you’re busy.
Leonid Gruzinsky was surprised at how the New Year had slipped up on him. Before he’d agreed to run the more kinetic side of the Sharp Resistance, he would’ve started planning in early December. Now he’d just have to hope that Tamara the housekeeper had remembered and ordered the foods that had to be imported, especially the Siberian berries.
And given how things were going right now, it was quite possible that he wouldn’t even be here at Sparta Point to toast in the New Year.
“Did you think this was the Feast of Saint Death, that you got to evade your duty?” Her voice sounded barely human.
“And you, you boneherd,” he snarled. “You thought your pretense at study should be treated as if it took time? As if skeletons were not age old magic!”
“Everyone at the dancing exclaimed over how lovely a dancer she was, and her husband knew from her gown’s embroidery that she was his own frog bride. So he ran home from the festivities, and found his bride’s frog skin, and threw it into the fire. There it burned up.”
I can finally do these again and of course she’s not done with me yet…
Playa Dorada on the southern coast of Bastetani was filled with people enjoying the summer vacation like always. Children of the rich, noble, famous, and spoiled milled around, played games, and lazed about. The young woman sunbathing near the center of the stretch didn’t look out of place in the slightest. The elaborate golden embroidery on her black bikini suggested that it came from a noble family’s personal stylist and it wasn’t far off from the truth, and the crescent hair ornament that she put her hair up in was in Yamatai style, suggesting a taste for the exotic and the means to get them.
Yet she wasn’t here to work on her tan, not that she really needed to, noting the envious glares from some of the women who passed her by. Some of them tried making an issue of it but one contemptuous glance over her expensive sunglasses was usually enough to send them back to their parents or boyfriends. If the pampered poodle in question didn’t see the danger in the woman’s cold, whiskey-colored eyes one of her companions certainly did and always found an excuse for them to be elsewhere
“Word must be getting around,” she thought, surveying the beach through her sunglasses. “As long as it only frightens the petty little girls.”
It had been a couple of hours since she set herself up on this section of the beach and yet her target still hadn’t made an appearance. It was annoying, yet the discipline her parents instilled in her kept her emotions in check. She was the daughter of Diego Espina, the man who trained the very best of the Bastetani Royal Marines, and Haruna Sasaki, a shinobi of Yamatai who found her place in the royal family’s service. Azahara would not let either of them down, or His Majesty either. On their honor, and in the name of her blade Ariake, this would be the last holiday Curro Bolívar ever enjoyed.
“European deities dominate the holiday calendar”, declared Evan.
Tom snorted, “Huh?”
Evan explained, “Sol’s Day, Moon Day, Tyr’s Day, Odin’s Day, Thor’s Day, Frigg’s Day, and Saturn’s Day get celebrated 52 times a year. Anyone else only gets a single day a year, or at most, a month, like Janus.”
I see the Garden of Eden every day at 9:00 standard shimmering blue, green and white through the armor glass of the Ebenezer 17 orbital factory’s breakroom. We’re promised Earth holidays, but mere workers never get one. I will. Tonight, I’m shipping myself space-crate, drone delivery to the green forest.
Comments are closed.