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. 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. I reserve the right not to run any submission, if cover, blurb or anything else made me decide not to, at my sole discretion.– SAH
FROM DENTON SALLE: Adventures on a Dark Road: Book 6 of the Avatar Wizard
A runaway dwarven princess, witches, dragons, assassination attempts, and a rebellion?
Jeremy had been dreading this trip. His girlfriend’s mother, a bear shifter, hated him. However, it was quickly getting worse than he ever could imagine. And that cursed sword haunts him, telling him that together they can rule the world.
From the Hall of Eternal Music to Bjornhold to the Artic Wastes, Jeremy fights against the machinations of the Dark as it seeks to corrupt and destroy the innocent. If he falls, those he loves are doomed. If he wins, well, long shots happen…
Join Jeremy and his friends in his latest adventure in a world based on where the lines between Good and Evil are clearly drawn. Fans of Ric Riordan, Jim Butcher, or Garth Nix will love this latest story set in a Slavic world of wonders. Click now for your copy!
FROM KYRA HALLAND: Mages’ Home (Defenders of the Wildings Book 1)
Once, they were hated and hunted by mage hunters and Plain folk alike. Now, former bounty hunters turned renegade mages Silas and Lainie Vendine finally have the life they dreamed of – a home and ranch of their own where they can live in peace and raise their family, and the friendship and respect of their non-magical neighbors.
When a company from across the western sea comes to Prairie Wells, bringing marvelous new inventions, Silas and Lainie figure it only means more prosperous times ahead for the town and for them – until an old and vicious hatred of mages rears its head.
As troubles stirred by unseen enemies divide the town, many of Silas and Lainie’s neighbors turn on them. When danger strikes at the heart of their home and family, Silas and Lainie must fight to protect everything they love, everything they’ve worked for, before it’s all destroyed.
If you love fantasy filled with romance and adventure in a unique setting, come join Silas and Lainie Vendine in this new tale from the Wildings. Mages’ Home is the first book of Defenders of the Wildings, a follow-up series to the epic romantic fantasy-western series Daughter of the Wildings. It is a self-contained series and can be enjoyed even if you haven’t read Daughter of the Wildings.
Contains language, violence, and mild sensual content.
FROM P. L. KENNY: The Demon Ring of Lilitu: A Christopher Lyte Weird Mystery
D is for Darkh…and death…and demons. A mysterious medium enthralls high society. A vicious blackmailer leaves a trail of ruined lives behind. An ancient evil holds a beautiful heiress under its spell. Can Christopher Lyte end the terror of the demon’s ring?
FROM MACKEY CHANDLER: Family Law
People love easily. Look at most of your relatives or coworkers. How lovable are they? Really? Yet most have mates and children. The vast majority are still invited to family gatherings and their relatives will speak to them.
Many have pets to which they are devoted. Some even call them their fur-babies. Is your dog or cat or parakeet property or family? Not in law but in your heart? Can a pet really love you back? Or is it a different affection? Are you not kind to those who feed and shelter you? But what if your dog could talk back? Would your cat speak to you kindly?
How much more complicated might it be if we meet really intelligent species not human? How would we treat these ‘people’ in feathers or fur? Perhaps a more difficult question is: How would they treat us? Are we that lovable?
When society and the law decide these sort of questions must be answered it is usually because someone disapproves of your choices. Today it may be a cat named in a will or a contest for custody of a dog. People are usually happy living the way they want until conflict is forced upon them.
What if the furry fellow in question has his own law? And is quite articulate in explaining his choices. Can a Human adopt such an alien? Can such an intelligent alien adopt a human? Should they?
Of course if the furry alien in question is smart enough to fly spaceships, and happens to be similar in size and disposition to a mature Grizzly bear, wisdom calls for a certain delicacy in telling him no…
The “April” series of books works from an earlier time toward merging with the “Family Law” series.
FROM CELIA HAYES: Luna City Behind the 8 Ball
Welcome to Luna City, Karnes County, Texas … Population 2,456, give or take! Fugitive former celebrity chef Richard Astor-Hall is beset with travails in his attempt to build a new life in tiny Luna City – providing caviar cuisine on a canned tuna fish budget to patrons of the Luna Café and Coffee; an old girlfriend turns up as the bride at a lavish wedding, the family of his pet cat and cooking partner, Captain Kitten in the Kitchen, turn up, demanding the cat be returned to them … and his junior kitchen staff want his help in entering a chili-cooking contest! And then there is the matter of another long-lost artistic treasure, the Gonzaga Reliquary, which may still be hidden somewhere around the old Gonzalez family ranch house … folklore, home folks and gentle comedy abound in this eighth visit to the most perfect small town in Texas.
FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: Love in the Time of Campaigning
As Frank Correra brings his family to a lunar settlement to get them away from a worsening political situation on Earth, he reminisces about how he and his wife met.
Frank had always dreamed of the skies. As a clone of an astronaut who subsequently became a US Senator, Frank thought he had a clear path ahead of him. But when it comes time to apply for the Air Force Academy, it is an election year. His ur-brother can’t promise a nomination until he’s won another term, and this year promises a hard race to run. When the other side puts up an ugly attack ad, can Frank find a way to discredit it before it destroys his ur-brother’s chance of re-election, and with it Frank’s slot at an Academy appointment?
A short story of the Grissom timeline.
FROM RACONTEUR PRESS, EDITED BY LAW DOG WITH STORIES BY MATTHEW BOWMAN, J.M. NEY-GRIMM AND MORE: What! You Again?: The Spurgle Chronicles
The final episode of the Spurgle Chronicles as told by ten authors. Stories of malicious incompetence and how Spurgle gets his comeuppance. You’ll be laughing at each account of how the most hated man in fiction gets his. Heroics, humor, and how on earth did he manage to do that?
“So we bid au revoir to Andrew J. Spurgle—maybe to visit him again in the future, but ever eager to see what the literary world at large does with him.Use him (albeit carefully, and seek medical attention if things start burning)! Abuse him—he is resilient!
He is our gift to the literary world. Have fun with him!”
FROM SARAH A. HOYT: Bowl of Red
At the top of a tall mountain, there lives a dragon. And the dragon is the master of all animals.
Okay, let’s rewind that. Tom Ormson is a dragon shifter, the scion of a line that was created to rule both Chinese and Norse dragons. But he doesn’t want the job. He co-owns a diner with his wife, Kyrie, who is about to deliver their first child.
In fact, they just got married, when the entire shifter-world, which centers on their diner goes insane.
You see, it is a time of Ragnarok, which means all of the shifter clans are in turmoil, with changing leadership. And the lion clan, to which Kyrie belongs has just lost its leader. Poor Rafiel, too, is tormented by very strange dreams and premonitions. Also, the Queen of the Norse dragons has woken, and wants a word with the Great Sky Dragon.
Hold on to your hats. A wild ride is about to begin, with Tom, Kyrie and their friends at the center of it.
When it ends, the world will never be the same again.
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: SINCERE
According To Hoyt 
“Well,” James remarked, “I didn’t think you were serious.”
“Oh, I’m always serious,” Louis replied with a stern expression on his face. “I’m your lawyer, it’s my job to be serious.” Then, he smiled, the first genuine smile James had ever seen on his face. “But I’m also sensual, sensible, sensitive, sarcastic, studious, sharp, and slippery as a greased weasel. And if what I’m even seeing is one-tenth accurate, this one conversation alone is going to make more money than the billing for the entire firm in the last five years. Why this firm?”
“Good reputation,” James shrugged. “A superb reputation, in fact. And this is going to be big, and I want to do it right. We’re about to drop nearly six centuries of technology onto Earth and if we’re going to shake things up…I don’t want to break the planet in the process.”
LikeLike
“… slippery as a greased weasel.”
Believe it or not, I’ve never heard that simile before!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I collect similes like this for just that reason. :D
LikeLiked by 1 person
“But darling, I sincerely love you! Don’t you believe me?”
“Little vampire, you are as sincere and as dangerous as a rattlesnake.”
The vampire showed her teeth and claws saying “But I’m more dangerous than a rattlesnake.”
The wizard replied “And so am I” as the bright glow of sunlight surrounded his hands. “Let’s see if you sparkle as the sunlight hits you.”
She didn’t sparkle as she was turned to dust.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was wondering if I’d get a chance to work with this part of the story…
“N-No! S-St-Stay back!”
Reginald’s scream was the last thing Vincent heard before all went black. He didn’t know how long he had been out, nor could he see anything when he struggled to his feet. What had happened? Where was Reginald? Lionel?
“Who dares disturb my slumber?!”
Vincent whipped his head around in a panic. Nothing. No, wait. A figure in a white hooded robe , its face completely covered in shadows, stood before him..
“Looking for your friends, no doubt,” the figure taunted. “I have already sent many of your friends to the next world.”
“You what?!” Vincent exclaimed. “Wh-Who?! Not Lionel?!”
“Ah, is that the ringleader’s name?” the being asked. “He was the first one to fall into my clutches. He will not be returning from beyond.”
“Th=That can’t be! NOOOO!” the youth screamed. “Damn it all. Carys…”
“Carys, you say?” the entity inquired in a mocking tone. “That doesn’t sound like a masculine name to me, yet I see no women among your ranks.”
“She’s Lionel’s sister,” Vincent answered, not sure why he was volunteering this information to this otherworldy being. “She’ll never forgive me for this.”
“I wouldn’t think so, no,” the figure concurred smugly. “Join her brother on the other side, then. It’s the only way you can make it up to her.”
“It’s not,” Vincent retorted, his tone hardening. “Well. Maybe it is but not here, not now.”
“Oh?” the entity asked, tilting its head.
“I can’t die until I do my damnedest to make amends to her,” the youth said, his tone one of resolve. “If that means sacrificing my life for her, fine, but she needs to see and know that it was my choice. That won’t happen if I’m just one more corpse in this pile.”
“Hm. Well said,” the entity responded, nodding slowly. “It is rare to see a human so sincere in their convictions, particularly when it comes to concern for another. Very well then, Vincent Austin. I will allow you to return to the world of the living on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That you will see your conviction through to the end, beyond even death, if that is what it takes to make amends to Carys Adair.”
“Gladly.”
“Then we have a deal,” the being stated with a sinister chuckle. “Until we meet again.”
“What in God’s name happened here?!”
Suddenly Vincent knew where he was. The cold, hard floor of the academy basement, the Headmaster’s outraged shout waking him up. But only briefly before he passed out once more. The white cloaked figure did not haunt this time of unconsciousness.
LikeLike
The others were following, he realized. They must have been loud enough for that.
“Wonder if the ice cave is really the ghost cave,” he said. “Then we could go stick swords in all the ice and be done with it.”
“Oh no,” said Perrin, in complete sincerity. “Old Master Humphrey went to inspect it and determined there were no ghosts there.”
“His complete catalog of hauntings?” said Karlos.
“That one. The one that was out of date before it was written because ghosts are always being laid and coming into being.”
“A historical record could be useful,” said Autumn.
LikeLike
“It is the dose that makes the poison,” she said, with complete sincerity. “That is why a herbwoman must study for years to administer some herbs. Why some can be given only distilled, because plant differs from plant in splendor, and dosage. Neither of you have time to learn that.”
LikeLike
The whole mess started with a miscommunication. It would’ve been easier had it been a mistranslation, a word or phrase with no exact equivalent in the other language. Instead, it was something we don’t even think about, and tend to take for granted.
In Codyland we assume that you look someone in the eye to demonstrate sincerity, to the point it’s automatic. If anyone told this young man that here you show that you are truly apologetic by lowering your gaze, demonstrating how deeply ashamed you are of your actions, he did not recall it in the moment after he bumped into one of the locals.
Unsurprisingly, the mismatch of gestures led the local to assume he was being mocked with a hollow apology, and he smacked the young man across the face. Palmar or backhanded, it hardly matters — to an adult Codylander it is an attack, and he responded accordingly.
Now what started as a minor misstep in a crowded marketplace has escalated into a major incident. The diplomatic staff here at the embassy is trying to smooth things over, both with the local government and with our young man’s family at home. We’ll be lucky if our young man is simply deported and permanently banned from re-entering the country.
LikeLike
I can think of at least three Star Trek episodes that used this topic as a plot point!
LikeLike
I know it’s not all that original. If I’d had more time and energy, I might’ve delved into how Codyland’s most decidedly peculiar form of government complicates these sorts of situations — but given the vehicle issues I’ve been going through this past week (and right before a sales event we need to get to, no less), I’m doing well to write something.
LikeLike
Oh, don’t get me wrong; I’m not knocking the idea at all. Where the rest of the story goes from that point on is the interesting part, and truth be told, I’m kind of intrigued by what you’ve put down so far!
LikeLike
Something along the lines of Lone Star Planet? :-D
“Why did you shoot him?”
“‘E was practicin’ politics!”
“Oh, I see. Case dismissed.”
LikeLike
Three of Young Nigel Slim-Howland away at school:
The first:
Young Nigel Slim-Howland tried hard not to roll his eyes. Rogers Thornthwaite from down the hall was standing for a seat on St. Peregrine’s Student Council and could he count on Nigel’s vote? He’d never spoken to Nigel before, but the daft pillock was acting like they were childhood friends!
LikeLike
The second:
Nigel and his roommate Chandler watched Thornthwaite disappear down the corridor. “That’s one of those guys you assume is lying every time he speaks,” Nigel said.
“Me uncle in the States would call him a skunk,” said Chandler. “Me Dad says blokes like him should automatically be disqualified for Parliament.”
LikeLike
The third:
Nigel gazed at the picture, himself and Lily, while Chandler looked over his shoulder.
“You’re always looking at that photo,” Chandler said. “Um, she’s gone, in’t she?”
Nigel nodded.
“Sorry, mate. Here, have some chocolate.”
Of all the people at Saint Purgatory’s, Nigel thought, Chandler’s the only genuinely good soul.
LikeLike
“Welcome to the Theological Place of Eternal Punishment!
As you have not pre-booked, we’ll start with our usual for you, the Sin Sear. Please consult the menu on the wall to select your next experience.”
LikeLike
“As you have not pre-booked, we’ll start with our usual for you …” Does that suggest others have pre-booked? Of course, that might get us into a Calvinist Can o’ Worms…
LikeLike
Doctor Faustus pre-booked well in advance.
LikeLike
”Well, here we are again, Mr. Phelps. Sondra, read the charges, please.”
”Possession with intent to distribute. Possession of more than twenty memes. Possession of memes mocking Our Democracy. And adult delinquency.”
”Oh, a new one? Prosecution?”
”The evidence was all found in the defendants pockets. And defendant was not sufficiently polite to the arresting political officer.”
”Hm, questionable judgement call there on that last one, Mr. Phelps. If you get bounced to the next level court they take a, let’s say, firmer stand on the political referrals. Anything to say for yourself?”
”Those aren’t my pants.”
”Well, you sound sincere, I’lll give you that, but they are never your pants. Do you own any pants? Don’t answer that. Bail set at $100. Sondra, advise the political office of this first thing next Wednesday morning. I’d make myself scarce for a bit, Mr. Phelps. And say hello to my niece when you get home. Next case.”
LikeLike
“I,” said Rae, and looked terrified before she staggered on. “They said it had to be the witch. That I had made deal with her for them.”
Marcus shook his head. “You would have noticed that. I would have noticed.” He faltered. “I lay in the power of necromancers for years, but they did not knight me. I would have noticed that.”
They all looked at him with implicit trust that shook him.
“We need to get to shelter. But, have any of you notice whether being under the stars affects your abilities?”
“Why would it do that?” said Jasper.
LikeLike
“Mrs. Weyland, I am sincerely sorry for all the trouble you have been put to,” said Dr. Anderson, eyeing the library. In the aftermath of the meeting, it was littered with paper plates, half-filled cups of soda and dirty napkins. “What happened to the rest of your committee?”
“They all had to leave,” June replied grimly. “Would you happen to have some extra trash bags?”
“I can certainly get those for you, and a bucket as well for the liquids.” The principal was as good as his word, and in less than ten minutes the room had been cleared. June thanked him.
“My pleasure. Ah… have you heard again from the police? Any new developments?”
“Nothing specific, but I can’t help wondering…” June hesitated. “I think it might have something to do with the real estate project. My husband and I attended the homeowners’ meeting a few nights ago and they said that the man killed worked as a contractor. The project keeps getting delayed and some of the attendees were accusing the development company of being responsible; no one seems to know for certain what is going on.”
“Or they aren’t telling anyone.” Anderson frowned. “Well, thank you for the information, and please be careful, Mrs. Weyland.”
LikeLike
“Whaddya reading?”
“Mercaptan chemistry and synthesis,” said Luna, pointing invitingly to one of the chairs at her otherwise-empty table on the Student Union’s plaza.
“Never a dull moment with you, is there? Orbits to get from Asteroid Bennu to Mars, and/or Earth. Bacteria that turn methane and oxygen into biomass, so something else buggish can turn that into actual food. NERVA engines. What raw comet-stuff is made of.” Stella unslung her backpack. “And I know you can tell me what it’s all for, too. No, ‘ooh cool’ at the latest from Korea or Japan. No all-in, on the latest political… craze.” Her voice stumbled and fell a bit, then.
“Got full natural immunity on most of those last, right from my parents. Sure, look at ’em, shallowly, and most people hear ‘Imagine’ — especially a lot of the, um, out of state types we get even here. But they really ought to hear ‘Revolution’ playing fifteen times in a row, with a heaping side order of Viva La Libertad Carajo.”
She looked up from her tablet, brightly, and began to sing. Instinctively making the sort of audience eye-contact some people have to be trained to do.
“Whether the State can loose and bind
In Heaven as well as on Earth;
“If it be wiser to kill Mankind
Before or after the birth;
“These are matters of high concern
Where State-kept schoolmen are.
“But Holy State, we have lived to learn,
Endeth in Holy War.”
Stella’s eyes were just a little bugged-out. “Okay, lyrics by Kipling. But whose music? Leslie Fish, or… who?”
“Maybe she did, somewhere… but this tune is by Adrienne Boussingault, or these past few decades Adrienne Aldridge, my mom. Her own dorm room here at Blackthorne was plainly labelled Boussingault’s Gulch for three whole semesters before anyone caught on.
“So that’s a song I grew up hearing, along with ‘Revolution’ and ‘Go Tell Aunt Rhodie’ and assorted ‘Rhysling’ songs and all the huge rest of it. Maybe it’s our country influence; but we-all just don’t seem to ‘get’ how music ought to be a pure spectator sport.”
“Well, I couldn’t possibly say I don’t understand. Says the girl whose own parents named her Stella Maris, knowing it for a low pun.” Her smile was a bit wry but perfectly genuine.
“Being named ‘Star of the Sea’ is actually way cool. As you know I think.”
“Okay, mercaptans? Not really twiggin’ on that… wait, aren’t those very seriously–” and she turned up her nose and pinched it shut.
“Basically they’re just sulfur-substituted hydrocarbons, and yes, if they ever do a heraldic color code for chemicals, this one should be deep black with a wide white stripe on every can. And I do have Clark’s ‘Ignition’ to verify that they smell just like Eau de Skunk except even worse. Some of the other sulfur-ized organics smell like ultra-garlic, and there’s one he almost describes chemically that he says is just indescribably bad; but boring old mercaptans ought to do the job.”
“Okay, you’ve lost me a little, are they really good rocket fuels? Or..?”
“No, indifferent rocket fuels, though Mars has lots of sulfur, and Venus (obviously) has ‘air’ plain lousy with the stuff; but I’ve a more, let’s just say, terrestrial application in mind.” Her voice had gotten very much softer towards the last, though they were dozens of feet from anyone else. Then a single, rather-unwelcome word. “Palz.”
Stella’s black eyebrows shot up, briefly, before her face settled to a far more neutral expression. “You mean, really? You’re gonna toss a beaker of your synthetic skunk juice at the pro-Palz infesting, I mean, ‘occupying’ the Old Office building? All by yourself? Luna, that’s very commendable, for sure, but also maybe not so… uh, wise?” Her voice was even lower and yet fully clear and understandable.
“Not just me, not nearly, if we really pull the trigger on the op. And it has a lot of necessary moving parts, too. Adeline is sure she can not only blow eggs but make them quasi-leakproof, either from the outside or the inside; I can very likely ‘cook’ the payload; Gemma’s got a line on how to buy us a semi-uniform from the thrift shops, without anyone much noticing; and Leah has already put in an order for five hundred Net-shop buttons all saying “Nazis STINK!” in large unfriendly letters.
“You know Judith is graduating in a few weeks, right? And so, having to go back ‘home’ to Ontario. It’d be good for her, not to have to rush on back to Pony Occupied Canada with that moronic chanting echoing in her head.”
“From the mountains to the sea, useful idiots we shall be,” mocked Stella. “You know what she’s been singing, right? Just softly and rarely but…”
“‘Blackthorne’s fine but it ain’t home; Toronto’s home but it ain’t mine no more.'” The Neil Diamond tune was bright in Luna’s voice; but it didn’t come out happy, any more than it had in Judith Lipschutz’ own voice.
“Okay, but… really? It sounds like you and a lot of rest of the Hencoop are settling on something that could really do the job. I’d truly not be sorry to see it; but I would be sorry to see it… blow back. You do know there are already Web sites where you can check someone for ties to this, um, anti-Semitic pro-Palz ‘death to the Jews’ stuff? Not so good, if my best friends get caught up in the same, from the other side.
“Otherwise, I’d pretty much be asking… where do I sign up?”
Luna started ticking points off on her fingers. “First, this is our own Blackthorne College, private and based in rural mid-Virginia. So we have to be sensible and civilized and not embarass anyone who hasn’t really and truly earned it. We can wait till the Palz mostly leave the building and gather in a big, tight clump on the Main Quad to… yell nonsense. So that means little to, um, decontaminate, just pressure-washing the sidewalks and bricks with oxidizers or suitably de-odorizing stuff. And mercaptans do break down with time, go ask anyone who’s been — skunked.
“Second, eggs as the delivery vehicle, sealed so the… stink doesn’t leak till they break. Not likely fingerprintable, if anyone goes that far. And, taking a leaf from those Commie ‘Anti-Fascist’ thugs, we do plan to wear black handkerchiefs over our faces, quasi-identical clothes, and get in and get out fast. No shouting slogans; walk up to the targets, throw a few eggs (raw, rotten, and loaded) each, and run-scatter every which way.”
And Luna smiled. “We also each plan to wear a sort of symbol, one more bit of they’re-all-alike to draw the eye. A single long-stemmed white rose, thorns included, carefully over a bit of stout cloth.” The look in her eye half-dared a listener not to get the reference.
Chills went down Stella’s spine, almost at once but not quite. “The 1940s. The White Rose Society. Anti-Nazis, in Nazi Germany. But… didn’t most of them end up really, truly dead, killed by the Actual Nazis?”
“The Gestapo hasn’t taken over here. Much, yet.” Luna’s voice, so calm and level and — sensible, so very much of the time, could’ve been carved from high-tensile tungsten good to a million pounds per square inch. “But when it comes right down to it, and here are those perfectly happy to kill the people you know and well, love… so, did you mean it sincerely, or not?”
She, almost, chuckled. “Is it a principle, or cheap feel-good noise?” Even though the sound she’d made had nothing of good humor in it.
“Remember, Stella, I was raised on this stuff. Not bombastic, not loud or strident, not pyrotechnic or spectacular… but neither of my parents ever did-not-mean it. Now we get to say ‘no’ to what the Actual Nazis tried and failed to finish. Right here, at Blackthorne, in beautiful not-so-downtown Leaburg, Virginia. Or, else: we get to watch, hold our tongues, and just hope some noble ‘George’ might, some fine day, do it… for us.
“Everyone has a White Rose point; now mine has come and gone.”
And Stella smiled a half-sad, half-merry, growing-up sort of smile. “So, could you keep the door open, just a crack, for us timid and reluctant to still follow?”
LikeLike
I am rather sincere about this;
https://i.imgflip.com/8qob3z.jpg
LikeLike
Meanwhile we are being invaded across the southern border, the economy is on it’s last legs, crime is getting out of control, and the schools are breeding mind numbed communists, but this is what the news channels are upset about. I am sincere about this as well.
https://i.imgflip.com/8qoc0n.jpg
LikeLike
Sincere about this too, also laughing my ass off, but sincerely;
https://i.imgflip.com/8qocqt.jpg
LikeLike
I saw that one captioned:
DEMOCRATS MOVING TO ANOTHER STATE
FROM THE ONE THEY JUST WRECKED
LikeLike
Yes, some do, but others are turning red, as if they learned their lesson. So that’s some good news.
LikeLike