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 PATRICK SEAMAN AND BLAKE SEAMAN: Accipiter War: Fort Brazos: Book One.
In a heartbeat, the world changed forever. Thousands dead in an instant. A city and military base torn from Earth and transported to an alien realm. And the survivors left asking one question: why?
Welcome to the world of Accipiter War, where the city of Fort Brazos, Texas and the Joint Reserve Base find themselves ripped from their homeland and dropped into a strange, inside-out planet. Faced with staggering loss and an uncertain future, the community must band together under the leadership of newly-elected President John Austin and Vice President Gail Finley to confront the dangers of their new reality.
But as they grapple with the aftermath of what some are calling the Awakening Day Culling, a new threat emerges. Nightmare creatures, impervious to bullets, begin to stalk the survivors. And the mysterious alien Spire in the town square comes to life, presenting a chilling message: humanity has been chosen to fight a war against the Accipiters, the merciless destroyers of worlds.
FROM MARK S. EHRLICH: Float the Boat
It’s December 2017 and consultant Nick Harmon is screwed. When he finds his ex-flame murdered the night before a reunion, police suspect he’s the long-hibernating Surf Club Killer. Nick has his own theory too: that Adnan Sulaiman, the event’s guest-of-honor, copycat-killed her. Backing it up only sinks him deeper into suspicion. But Nick’s unconcerned. Even if he cuts his own throat, he’s going to make Sulaiman pay.
Adnan Sulaiman’s latest deal will make real estate history. But the Indonesian billionaire now stands accused of murder. Not by DC police, by a dead woman he never met and a cabal of media loudmouths. The bad news goes global fast. One partner bails, others waiver, and protesters mass at headquarters. He’s in the fight of his life and won’t back down.
Detective Steve Caine designates Nick the key suspect and Sulaiman a longshot. But is either man the elusive serial killer? Troubling inconsistencies mount, and unanswered questions dog him. Then a reporter breaks news about crucial evidence. One murderer or two? And if the Surf Club Killer’s in town, when will he carve another wave?
FROM DALE COZORT: Snapshot: Book 1 of the Snapshot Universe
For eighty million years, the Tourists have taken Snapshots of Earth, creating living replicas of continents. Life in the Snapshots quickly diverges from the real world, creating a universe where humans and animals from Earth’s history fly between Snapshots, exploring, fighting, and sometimes meeting themselves.
In 2014, the Tourists’ newest Snapshot catches Middle East Analyst Greg Dunne rushing toward Hawaii to join his wife, who just went into labor. The new Snapshot doesn’t include Hawaii, cutting Greg off from everyone he loves.
Greg is thrust into the aftermath of a hidden, decades-old massacre, where Germans from a pre-World War II European Snapshot battle ranchers from a Korean War-era U.S. Snapshot,a fun house mirror version of the US cut off from the world since 1953.No Beatles. No Internet. No Personal Computers. No cell phones. No Vietnam War.But an endless new frontier.
FROM HOLLY CHISM: Detritus
Nick Bryant was a junkie. Lived on the streets, and everything. And then, he saved a baby girl from drowning, and fell into the role of protector. As he, the baby, and her older brother get to know one another, he decides that maybe, there’s more left to him than the drugs, and decides to try to live again. And maybe build a family.
FROM MARY CATELLI: The Princess Goes Into The Forest
Act with care. . . .
In the home of a wealthy but vanished family, four young people, inventorying the household, find the props for the family’s amateur theaterics. But a few minutes of donning them to play at roles has consequences that none of them could have guessed. One plays a subtle courtier, one a brave swordsman, one a powerful enchantress. . . and one takes up the role of a princess, and goes into a forest.
FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: Spiral Horn, Spiral Tusk
A unicorn’s horn for the king, a medal for the admiral — but what for the lass who makes it possible?
Rissa possesses the dolphin-singer gift, which saved her life when the thief-taker found her. If she can guide the fleet to the white whale with the spiral tusk, she might win back her freedom.
But first she must return to land — and the sea has become angry at her betrayal…
A short story of the Ixilon universe
Originally published in Beyond the Last Star: Stories from the Next Beginning, edited by Sherwood Smith.
FROM BLAKE SMITH: The First Adventure of Sir Garamond de Crecy
Sir Garamond- Gerry, to his friends- has been knighted for less than a month, and he’s already found his first great quest: saving the beautiful and helpless Princess Alyssia of Ollandra from the dragon that is holding her in dreadful captivity. Or so he thinks…
A lighthearted short story.
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: WAX
According To Hoyt 
“Oh Bee’s Wax” Sam said in annoyance.
(Yes, that’s not much but is all that I could think of.) 😉
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Lizzie Borden’s occupation is forgotten: she was a chandler.
After all, she was very wick-ed and gave her father 40 wax.
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It was inevitable. It was only a matter of time.
The carp is loaded. Currently reckoning azimuth and elevation…
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In case somebody needs to know:
Krispy Krunchy Chicken has a current deal called “You Buy, We Fry.”
People with EBT cards can buy uncooked chicken parts from KKC, and then KKC will fry those chicken parts for no extra charge. (This goes around the rule that EBT can’t be used for already-prepared foods.)
The downside is that you will have to wait for the chicken to cook. Also, I don’t know what the prices are. But there was a nice corporate-made stand-up card at the register of the local KKC (I’m in Ohio), so I assume this is also being implemented in other states with similar EBT rules.
It would seem that this used to be a thing in 2016, and was stopped in 2018 (although there was a SNAP thing with microwaveable bags that was approved at that time). Now it’s apparently a thing again.
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There was something mesmerizing about a repetitive process like waxing a big table. Maybe it was the rhythmic nature of the motions, the little circles slowly moving across the expanse of wood as you work the wax into the grain. But the longer I went, the harder it was to keep from slipping into a trance state, the sort where my barriers didn’t just lower, they outright dissolved and I became aware of other things, of worlds that are most decidedly Not Of Men, as the old poem goes.
Things flickered at the edges of my perception. Not just my peripheral vision, but the very threshold of hearing, of scent and of other, more ancient senses that we’re usually not even consciously aware of. If I were to attempt to focus on them, they’d melt away into the quantum foam from which they’d arisen — but it was so hard to maintain any kind of focus or concentration when doing this sort of work.
Which raised the question of whether I should request a change of duties. Psi is still considered fringe, thanks to all the Cold War maskirovka efforts to hide our real successes in a haze of flummery. With my luck, the boss would probably just laugh me off, then tell me I need to stop making excuses and buckle down.
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The sun had set. The moon, though waxing, hung over it, and would soon set. He did not know if Pascal could see in the dark.
Marcus said slowly, “I have a place where you might stay.”
Pascal looked at him.
“I have — there are six other children who — “
Pascal flinched.
Marcus let his breath out. “Who live there. But there is a place where you can stay alone.”
Pascal looked so eager that Marcus was struck by the need to keep the youngsters out.
“But now,” said Marcus, “we wait for stars.”
Pascal frowned. “She didn’t want me to — “
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To describe our sex life is like how I describe how we cook-every week, we switch off ideas and try something new, and if we like it, we keep doing it. If we don’t, we try a variation on the theme and try again. No third time’s a charm unless we had some serious technical issues that we could fix.
Sayuri decided that she wanted to try wax play, and Belladona was her first test subject last night. Belladonna started to giggle far too much when she described how she enjoyed it, and that was worrying. Usually, when Belladona giggled like that, she was either close to orgasm or covered in the blood of her enemies.
Which is why tonight I was going to be Sayuri’s test subject…
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“June?” Tom’s voice was mildly curious. “Why are the candleholders in the freezer?”
“To get the wax off. Once it freezes, the candle wax will come right off. I’ll get the silver polished some time next week, and start making my grocery list. It takes a while to get ready for Thanksgiving, you know.”
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Maria jumped and shouted, trying to catch the tech mogul’s attention.
“Elon! Experts say your focus on Starship aerodynamics is excessive, given its proven reentry performance. How does SpaceX plan to decrease drag during atmospheric flight?”
Elon smiled broadly, then with an Asian accent he intoned, “Wax on, wax off.”
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Oh, nice! I managed to work it into the next bit of alliterative verse I’m working on.
The spies returned/to the twelve tribes
To tell their tale/of a town in turmoil
Fearing to face/their foes in the field
And melting away/as wax before the wick-flame
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Young Nigel Slim-Howland viewed his new dorm room with some distaste. He asked his sister Agnes, “Is it not too late to get me into a flat?”
“Father says you’re to have the typical American university experience,” she replied.
Nigel found that as intriguing as a bowl of wax fruit.
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Sploit! went the serving of macaroni and cheese as it landed in Nigel’s tray. The young lad serving the food looked at Nigel with an expression that said, “I know it sucks. Watcha gonna do?”
At his table, Nigel tried a tentative fork-full. “This tastes like candle wax!” he thought.
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“Serving” really doesn’t work in the first sentence, does it? Not with the onomatopoeia. Maybe “clump,” or “mass” maybe? I’m open to suggestions.
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“Could be worse.”
“How?”
“Could be ear wax.”
Ah, but just wait until breakfast. The cornbread tastes like sawdust and the oatmeal tastes like putty. You’ll wax nostalgic for the macaroni. :-D
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Robin tried to swallow again. Her mouth was too dry.
“I won’t have it.”
“Of course not,” said Robin. It sounded more like a croak to her.
The woman whirled on her. “Are you making fun of me? I can wax wroth if you do not realize the gravity of the matter.”
Robin thought of speaking, and instead bobbed a curtsy.
The woman sniffed. “Silly peasant lassies think they know everything, don’t know how to respect.” She pushed open the door, and Robin followed her in.
There were books. There were books everywhere. Stacks of books on tables and books spilled over the floor. She even had shelves where she put her books.
“Do all these need dusting?” said Robin.
The woman looked at her and snorted. “Food first. That’s the door to the kitchen.”
Robin curtsied again before hurrying over. She took care not to step on any books.
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The ship approached Ceres from prograde in its orbit, so it appeared as a waxing crescent slowly growing in size, first in the ship’s cameras and then visually to the naked eyeball out the windows.
”Are we there yet?”
Sally, strapped into the pilot’s seat to confirm their latest course correction burn results, shook her head with a grin. “Do NOT make me pull this spaceship over, Johnny…”
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