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 JERRY BOYD (A NEW SERIES!): Mark’s Magic (Fat Man’s Gift Book 1)
Mark was happy enough, working as a mechanic. He didn’t know that he was more than that, until his mother gave him some keepsakes from his grandfather. Those opened his eyes to a whole world that he hadn’t realized he had a place in. Watch him learn to use his new skills.
FROM CHARLES HACKNEY: Chosen by the Sword: An Urban Fantasy series (The Professor Howard Chronicles Book 1
There are some things a PhD doesn’t prepare you for, like running two feet of steel through the guts of a flesh-eating monster straight out of a nightmare, while ducking razor sharp claws. Or having the sword critique your fighting style while you do it.
Dave Howard had a problem. Last week, he was out looking for a teaching job in the middle of a wrecked job market. This week he was neck deep in green blood and hellfire. Dragged into it by the very sword, his grandfathers’ mysterious possessed blade, that was now walking him through hacking up a ghoul without getting his own head cut off. This wasn’t exactly what he had gone to school for, and the University he had just taken a job with seemed to be anything BUT an academic institution. More like some kind of monster hunting bunch of weirdo nerds. Maybe his degree in Personality Psychology might be useful there, at least. The fighting though … as he dodged another swipe of claws and awkwardly tried to follow the instructions the sword was screaming at him, he shot back at it, “Hell, I’m Canadian! Swordplay isn’t in my cultural DNA!”
An exciting new series that dives into a hidden supernatural world that lies just outside our own.
FROM S. K. BERIT: My Shorts Are Showing: Stories with no discernable theme
“What is a ‘Once Cat’?” asked Irvin, ignoring the harsh instructions to never speak, tapping his thigh with his pistol.
Woncekats hate explaining what they are, so Otis kept walking through the culvert, staying delicately left of the fetid water dribbling insincerely down the corrugated steel tube.
Irvin stopped four feet into the pipe. “I’m supposed to find one named Otis.”
Otis didn’t need to ask why—the bounty could enrich generations. He stopped, sat, and licked the back of his right paw where an undetectable fleck of mud had attached itself.
“I wonder why she left you. You don’t, of course. That would require…curiosity,” said Otis, his low voice echoing through the dank, elongated cylinder. His words wafted on invisible tendrils that wormed into Irvin’s mind, forcing him to review his worst moments in every cruel detail. “You’d then be curious, naturally, about yourself, and the mountains of failures you’ve managed to pile up in so few years. After that comes the broken heart, not for her, but for the person you might have been, for all the futures you threw away. And for what?”
Irvin slumped, pistol in hand, against the side of the culvert, hand and pistol butt pressed against his temples, as soulless accusations reverberated inside the bony chamber of his skull.
“And then,” said Otis. “If you are unlucky enough, you’ll realize she wanted to stay. I hope not, for your sake.”
Otis continued through the filthy metal pipe, savoring the agony behind him.
FROM RANDY BROWN: Next Time
Listed on the 2024 Must-Read List by Independent Book Review: “Of the many time-travel novels I’ve read, this is undeniably among my favorites.”
Fans of time-travel love stories as well as SF will enjoy “Next Time,” where a chance encounter with Miriam leaves William doubting her claims of randomly jumping forward in time. He is deeply skeptical when she tells him she’s been doing it for a thousand years.
As Miriam randomly reappears over the next several months and years, they fall in love. Rumors of Miriam’s condition raise the attention of government agents and the couple scrambles to avoid people who view Miriam as a chance for experimentation.
William and Miriam explore their past, live for the brief interludes they have together, and hope for their future, all amidst living life in scattered moments. Building a life together takes time.
Read the story awarded 5-star reviews by multiple sites, including Reedsy Discovery, Reader Views, Readers’ Favorite, and Literary Titan!
FROM HOLLY CHISM: Having a Pint
Even the dead have to make a living…
Meg Turner, vampire accountant and investments advisor, has plenty of living clients, but not many among her fellow undead. That’s about to change: she’s been invited to a regional business fair for her kind. She’ll get to meet and greet more bloodsuckers than she really wanted to (hopefully without having to suck up to any of them). than just the two Vampire cops she helped track down and stake her late, unlamented sire—and hopefully make some friends and answer some questions.
Unfortunately, she’s got a Line Progenitor who’s begun invading her dreams, and a serial killer stalking her future clients to distract her from growing her business. Throw in a sick roommate not long before the conference starts, a mafia messenger boy left on her front porch, and only one car to juggle all of her responsibilities toward her roommate and unexpected guest. And then on top of that, she has the business fair over an hour away that features vampire karaoke, nosy, pushy elder bloodsuckers, and one particular elder who’s friends with her unwelcome dream guest. Seriously, it’s enough to drive her to drink something other than coffee or blood.
Just why did she think this whole conference thing sounded like a good idea, again?
FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: The Space Race Trilogy Omnibus: Time Slips, The Secret of Pad 34, Beach House on the Moon, Plus two exclusive new essays
All three books of the Space Race Trilogy, now together with two exclusive new essays.
Time Slips
What if our most treasured verities were in fact wrong?
To be selected for Project Mercury and be one of America’s first astronauts was a dream come true for test pilot Deke Slayton. But fellow Mercury astronaut Al Shepard kept telling old stories from his native New England, tales of monstrous entities like Cthulhu and Yog Sothoth. Earlier generations had viewed them as demons, but might they in fact be aliens, here long before humanity?
Soon Deke discovers evidence that something is watching the US space program. Something that begrudges humanity the stars and would put a ceiling on human attainment. Something that can manipulate time itself.
HP Lovecraft wrote that we dwell on a placid island of ignorance amidst the dark ocean of infinity, and that we were not meant to travel far.
What might the US space program have looked like in a cosmos filled with hostile eldritch entities? Would they notice us as playthings? Or as a nuisance to be dealt with?
The Secret of Pad 34
Who would put a ceiling on humanity’s expansion into space?
That’s what Gus Grissom wants to know. While fishing offshore from Cape Canaveral, he glimpses a mysterious undersea city of unearthly geometries, marked with a strange three-armed cross symbol.
His efforts to research it bring him veiled threats from strangers at his door. Trouble blights an exemplary career. However, Gus refuses to be cowed into silence, and pursues every lead he can find.
HP Lovecraft wrote that we live on a placid island of ignorance and were not meant to travel far. This is the Space Race in a world where the Soviet Union is not our only adversary.
Beach House on the MoonThe Moon is a dead world, airless and desolate. Emmaline Waite has known this fact since childhood, when she watched the Apollo landings.
But here she sits on the shores of the Sea of Tranquillity, looking up at the gibbous Earth as the waves roll in. What madness can this be?
She gets no time to contemplate that question, for she is not alone. She is about to enter a realm of love and fear, of mind-bending secrets that change her understanding of human history, and of self-sacrifice.
Her life will never be the same.
Miskatonic University in the Cold War and Contemporary Era
How would H.P. Lovecraft’s famous fictional institution of higher education have developed through the second half of the Twentieth Century and into the Twenty-first?
Space: Gernsbeck vs. Lovecraft
A look at the fundamental worldviews underlying the approaches of Hugo Gernsbeck and H.P. Lovecraft to the portrayal of outer space, aliens, and space travel.
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: Dazzling
According To Hoyt 
Monday the 17th isn’t going to be dazzling especially since it’s my Birthday and I’ll turn 70. [Frown]
Oh, Chosen By The Sword seems to be a good birthday present for me from me.
better than the alternative, Drak. Happy birthday in advance.
LOL
Thanks.
🎂
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DRAK
Happy Birth day to Youuuuu,
Happy birthday to youuuuu.
Happy birthday dear Whap… Thud
Whaaat? Why’d you knock me off the fence with a flung flounder? My singing’s not that bad.
Just be thankful that I didn’t sing back at you. [Twisted Grin]
It’s far better to wake up and see the grass from the green side. Happy 70th tomorrow!
Happy birthday – welcome to Septuagenarian Land!
And the blurb for Chosen By The Sword was perfect for me – just bought it.
Dazzling?
That’s a weird way to spell “horrifying”
I think the term is “headache-inducing.”
”Message from the Cruiser, Sir”
”What is it? Just read it, Ensign.’
”Aye Sir, it, well… It says ‘Does this pattern make me look fat?’”
”Ah, Captain Wills, I wager. Reply, Ensign: ‘Pattern makes you look dazzling. It’s your massive stern that makes you look fat.’”
I believe many sea captains are known for a stern demeanor.
Old joke, from Tony Randall IIRC, on the Tonight show …
He once encountered a coterie of enthusiastic masseurs and masseuses, whose goal was to leave no stern un-toned.
Moving away from the late Mr Randall, someone else mentioned that he hated seabirds, and used to throw rocks at them, determined to leave no tern un-stoned.
And, your local paint shop is likely to prefer that no color tone be un-stirred.
Well, ain’t that a kick in the PANTs.
Chosen By The Sword is a Good Read! Now, when’s book two going to be out?
“Sir, our sea-skimmer antiship missile is reporting a migraine.”
It’s interesting to note those paint jobs weren’t done to hide the ships, but to affect the human eyeball trying to target them.
I remember reading that; the more usual semi-random pattern camo was intended to hide (sort of) the ships, or at least make them less noticeable. I never read if the Dazzle actually worked; it wasn’t used as much in WWII as in WWI, so I’d expect not. The random-pattern camo only did in certain circumstances, and not very well even then; actually hiding multi-thousand-ton warships on a flat ocean is a bit of a challenge. 😉
Humans key on outlines; Dazzle was intended to break up the outline. The reason its’ use declined in WWII is that radar doesn’t care, and only needing one shade of gray in the paint locker was convenient.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jUR01rFTuLg
Good point, but they still used such colors as haze gray combined with other grays and blues in camo “wave” patterns to try to keep visual sightings to a minumum; radar wasn’t the only issue since subs and aircraft relied on visual. AFAIK they stopped either just before the end of the war or just after; IIRC (I could be mistaken) the New Jersey was painted haze gray during the Korea deployment.
Ohhh, nice set of promos today! Thanks!
They reached the top of a hillock. Sylvie looked ahead, to see if the sky could be seen through the trees ahead. It couldn’t, but there was a glimpse of dazzling whiteness, darting among trees, ahead of her.
“Snowfall!”
She barely realized she had brushed by Dorothea reaching the kitten.
Dazzling is how I would describe how I perceived a career in Cybersecurity. Sparkling is not how I would describe my skill in that area… So I don’t see myself heading in that direction…
Elaine squinted against the reflected sunlight on the rippling water. Although she’d been living here in Silicon Valley for several months, she was still getting used to these little things. Santa Clara County wasn’t that much further south than Iowa, not like going down to LA, yet the sun always seemed more intense. Was it a matter of lower humidity, or was something else going on?
I am crying right now for no reason. The world does not look dazzling.
The wreck was horrible. Amazingly, it had not caught fire.
“Any survivors?”
“No.” And then heard the odd cries.
In the special seat, the youngster had survived the crash.
“Alright, all the adult Dazz were killed in the crash, but somehow the Dazzling survived. Now we have another problem.”
“Caring for a Dazzling?”
“That or finding Dazz willing to take him…or her..or … whatever. I do not know how their society works as regards this sort of thing.”
Can anybody send Orvan a carp? [Twisted Grin]
I’m going to see him next week at Liberty con, and I happen to know he’s got a delivery coming.
<Evil Girl-Dragon smile.
Back to my first setting for this one.
The Drusus club scene. Alexa Luria could think of a thousand places she’d rather be than this, including the depths of the Abyssal Plane itself. The pounding music and shifting lights gave her a proverbial headache and damn near gave her an actual one.
“And now the princess of the ball has arrived/” she thought looking at the entranceway as tthe crowd went wild.
The woman who appeared made the sort of dazzling entrance she was famous for. She wore an open leather coat over a purple and black crop top and miniskirt and pushed her sunglasses up on her forehead. The jacket and top were both sparkling and the woman wore several rings and an elaborate gold necklace. She pushed her sunglasses up, resting them on her long purple hair as she smiled and waved at the crowd, a look of supreme confidence on her face.
“Mireia’s the best, isn’t she?!” a girl next to her squealed. Alexa simply nodded, following the woman’s movements with a cold gaze.
It wasn’t simply that Alexa had no use for vapid celebrities and resented having to take this assignment despite Master Lazzaro not having anyone else he could trust. In fact, Mireia Asturias’ presence was the Blessing of the Pillars she needed – the club goers would be so busy fawning over her that she could eliminate her target and be back at the compound before the princess of the ball even had her first drink.
“Time is wasting.” Alexa thought, finishing her own drink right when Mireia reached the stage at the end of the club and posed, pyrotechnics providing a fitting end to her grand entrance. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause as Alexa weaved her way through the teeming masses, scanning the club for her target. Yet somehow the one who met her gaze directly was Mireia herself.
Alexa started. It wasn’t merely that she had caught the attention of Drusus’ Queen of the Night herself. It was the look in Mireia’s eyes, one she knew all too well. Those weren’t the eyes of a diva only concerned with the adulation of her countless fans or her next drink. They were the eyes of the stone cold killers she worked with day in and day out as an Enforcer of the Society of Amon. Mireia smirked at Alexa’s reaction, giving her a mocking wave before she went to the dance floor.
Alexa stood stunned, her reverie broken when a name suddenly came to mind: Sadira. The Society had been abuzz with rumors of an independent assassin who had racked up a kill count comparable to her and the other Enforcers. All the rumors talked about a woman who emerged from nowhere, killed, and disappeared into thin air. Curiously a lot of the kills attributed to her happened around Mireia Asturias’ more high-profile outings. It certainly wasn’t impossible that the flashy celebrity Mireia and elusive killer Sadira were one and the same.
“Queen of the Night indeed.” Alexa muttered, calming herself and resuming her search for the target.
She didn’t know who Mireia was looking for. Perhaps it was nobody and she was simply out enjoying herself. Perhaps Alexa herself was the target. She wouldn’t have been the first Enforcer to have crossed paths with Sadira if that’s who Mireia really was. Hadn’t Matriarch Elena’s star apprentice Liam said something about a woman in black appearing out of the blue, taking his kill, and escaping? Or perhaps they were after the same target. Ilmars Priede had certainly offended enough people and sure enough, there he was, waiting for Mireia to finish her first dance of the night so he could approach her.
“So now it’s a race against a rival as well as time,” Alexa thought, discreetly checking her weaponry and vial of poison she had smuggled in. “So be it.“
The airship cruised around and even through the nighttime city skyline. Max watched Cari gazing out the windows, enchanted by all the city lights. “Pretty, huh?” he said.
“It’s dazzling,” sighed Cari. “Like diamonds.”
Speaking of which, thought Max, retrieving the ring from his pocket. An older woman nearby gasped.
The exam question read, “Describe MRP system nervousness.” Dave couldn’t remember the concept.
He’d answered, “MRP gets nervous when it hears ‘pink slips’ or ‘layoffs.’ Or, when you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with BS.”
The professor wrote back, “READ your book, then maybe you get your BS!”
True story, by the way. Summer of 1987, production management class.
“Yes, it’s magical. There’s a lake, it can be seen from some towers, and it’s quite dazzling in the sunlight.”
“The lake’s just magical?” said Jasper frowning.
“Of course not. It’s fed by a stream. That’s magical.”
All the children laughed.
“Let’s go to eat,” he said. They followed after.
“Dazzling, but of course I am Dazzling, I wouldn’t have it any other way, sweet cheeks” the bandit leader said.
“Oh by the gods, I think I have finally seen it all” Morgan sighed.
Fortious dropped from his steed, of all the things to encounter in this barbarian land. He pulled his battle axe and made ready. After all there were only four of them and the others were watching the flanks, besides he was bored with all this talk.
“I’ll not kill you dandy, among my people those you kill in life serve you in Asgard. Odin himself would probably ban me to the netherworld for bringing the likes of you” Fortios warned.
“Oh, please I’ve known enough of you macho types, besides I’ve never mind some rough trade now and then” the Bandit leader all but lisped.
“Then prepare to be beaten for your Baron Vogel” Fortios warned menacingly.
“Wait a minute sweet cheeks, you’re not with Vogels trash?” the leader asked.
“No we look to unseat him and his ilk” Marcus replied.
“Then you may pass” the dandy said with a flourish.
“So you are fighting him as well?” Drago asked.
“He killed my uncle and my lover, so yes you could say I have a bone to pick with him” the Bandit Leader replied.
“Well Dazzling, I think we have a nice deal for you” Marcus amusingly said.
It looked like Baron Vogel’s heavy handed treatment of others was making it rather easy to find allies.
John found Joan kneeling by the hive, glue gun in hand, glitter paint at her side. Watching her pluck a worker with her tweezers then deftly glue a sequin to its thorax before daubing some paint on it, he sighed.
“When you said you’d be bedazzling tonight I didn’t imagine this.”
~
Rgrds,
RES