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 ALMA BOYKIN: Healer, Hunters, and Hearts: Familiar Generations Book Seven
Birds of mischief flock together …
Healer and Hunter, Deborah Chan Lestrang makes her way in the world as an herbalist and Healer who also hunts fell creatures when needed. Tensions inside her extended family call for a healer of hearts as well—a task far trickier, perhaps, than easing physical pain.
Weaker magic workers report being harassed by birds, birds inside a shield. Foul creatures appear, brought by a gate-spell cast by a coven. Or was it?
An old ill resurfaces …
Word comes from the north of a new drug, one that seems to grant magical abilities to those who take it. And that does not kill them as quickly as heart’s fire did. Could the birds of ill omen and the new pharmaceutical be related?
Deborah must find a path between duties and desires, the past and the present. But she does not travel alone. And she is her parents’ daughter. If she can survive Master Lestrang’s chili and his curries, she can banish abyssal evil. Maybe.
FROM GENE LOOMIS: THEY BITE
When retired secret agent Guy Devlin answers a call from his old boss, Talbot—known simply as “Chief”—he has no idea the Agency is about to thrust him into its most perilous mission yet.
Devlin’s mission: infiltrate an ultra-secret facility, Project Cerberus, led by the brilliant but dangerously ambitious Dr. Pandora Marx. Her work, blending human and animal DNA to create hybrid superweapons, has reached catastrophic proportions. Creatures engineered in the hidden Pacific lab have broken free, and with intelligence, strength, and an insatiable thirst for survival, they are beyond any threat humanity has ever faced.
But it’s not just the creatures that make Project Cerberus nearly unreachable. The island itself is a fortress of mystery—its location concealed from satellites, and an electromagnetic field that renders all approaching planes and boats dead in the water.
With his team, Devlin races against the clock to rescue what can be saved and destroy what cannot. As the creatures multiply and evolve, their intelligence grows, making it clear that Devlin and his crew are not just facing monsters but a new apex predator. It’s a game of survival in the wildest, most treacherous terrain imaginable, where the lines between hunter and hunted disappear.
Will Devlin stop Project Cerberus before the creations it unleashed consume the world? Or will humanity fall prey to these creatures that should never have been?
FROM E. L. LYONS: Starlight Jewel: Gifts of the Auldtree, Book One
The Starlight Company’s survival depends on thieving and assassinating without upsetting the humans around them.
Axly, like all hybrids, is Company property—from the rings on her fingers to her woody bones and the skin that covers them. Her rank as the Starlight Jewel affords her some freedom in the city of Minalav, where the hybrids of the Starlight Company follow a code to keep balance between humans and sprygans. Axly isn’t bound by this code, especially when it conflicts with protecting her human half-brother. She’ll do anything to keep him safe—even if it means damaging company property or destroying Minalav’s balance to do it.
General Arthur Grimwalt is only in Minalav to secure a deal to protect his country, not be romanced and robbed by the infamous Starlight Palace’s lavish balls. Securing such a deal has left Grim with more than he bargained for and vague memories as to how it happened.
If the Starlight Company won’t let Axly go, then she’ll give the gluttons what they want and more. No one leaves this tale unscathed.
FROM PAM UPHOFF: Origin Stories
Six stories in the Troystvennyy Soyuz on the run up to and during the Fall of the Alliance.
Young people with problems with the brutal society, and all too often their own families. Young men and women reaching for a better future, as everything changes around them.
FROM R. KENWARD JONES: The Face in the Grave
The Fratelli crime family’s accountant, Tony Diderrick, is dead, which is a big problem for him, but a bigger problem for lots of other people…
His two wives, one of whom knows he’s dead, the other of whom doesn’t know where he is, and neither of whom knows the other exists.
Richie Fratelli, head of the Fratelli crime family, who wants to know where his accountant went, and more importantly, what he did with over half a billion dollars of family money.
Jack Franklin, the deep cover FBI agent assigned to keep an eye on a man so high on the most wanted list there’s not a number to match how wanted he is.
Stick Gordon, a masochistic hit man determined to find Diderrick and settle up old accounts, and Sandy Anderson and Carla Dyson, college schoolmates and star-crossed lovers in search of answers about their dead father.
All these players converge on a hillside graveyard in the Virginia countryside, hoping to unlock the secrets the man entombed took to his death; some seeking wealth and power, some seeking glory or revenge, and some seeking closure. Who gets there first and what they do when they get there will determine whether the mystery ends in tragedy or redemption.
EDITED BY WILLIAM JOSEPH ROBERTS AND TIM CAJUN BISCHOFF: It Came From the Trailer Park: Volume 4
You hear the word Vacation and it brings up thoughts of water, sand, refreshing drinks, and fun times.
Of course, when your budget matches your monthly grocery bill, expectations have to be lowered and surprises expected, and not usually the good kind.
With thirteen stories of action, adventure, horror, and down right knee slapping fun, you’d best buckle up butter cup, you’re going on a trailer park Vacation!
FROM MARY CATELLI: Enchantments And Dragons
A wizard must produce justice enough to satisfy a dragon. A young man tries to rob a tiger’s lair. An enchantress tries to keep a court safe while they ignore the perils of misusing her magic. A lady finds that court intrigues can spread even to the countryside. And more tales. Includes “Over the Sea To Me,” “Dragonfire and Time”, “The Maze, the Manor, and the Unicorn”, “The White Menagerie”, “The Dragon’s Cottage,” “Jewel of the Tiger,” and “The Sword Breaks.”
FROM HOLLY CHISM: Fire and Forge
Long after their worshipers are forgotten, the gods are still holding up a corner of the bar at the Godshead Tavern. Some have learned since their stories became myths, some never did, and some are still finding old curses coming back to haunt…
Poseidon wants Artemis to lift Medusa’s curse so he and Medusa can resume relations, while Chronos seeks another chance to be whole and get to know his kids.
Meanwhile, Ares falls head over heels for a mortal half his size who manages to kick his ass not once but twice, and Loki’s son is trying to rebuild his life (and his credit) after a short marriage to Pandora.
Life and love runs smoothly for no one, god or mortal. And another disaster is brewing…
FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: She Dreams Day and Night
Nancy White they called her, a good, solid name for a troubled girl. But she knew her father had called her by another name, before he disappeared through the gate into another world of strange stars and stranger moons. No matter how hard the staff of Hildred House try to force her to forget, she remembers. And longs to reopen the gate, to rejoin her father on that alien shore where cloud-waves break.
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: SCARED
According To Hoyt 
“What are you afraid of?” asked the Teacher.
“I’m scared of my powers and what I might do to others” replied the Student.
“You should be. All of the Powered should fear what we can do to the Unpowered. Which is especially true for those with Our Powerset. Even the Unpowered “wish” they could change the opinions of others but we can actually do so”.
“What should I do.”
“It’s not easy but be aware of the temptation and be very aware that we can’t control everybody. I can control twenty or so and you can control a dozen or so. Others of the Powered know what we could do and we couldn’t stop them from taking lethal action against us.
“Still, you must not let your rightful fear overwhelm you. Of course, it’s easier for me than for me. My wife is a Mental-Mage and I can’t mentally control her. If I gave her reason, it would be easy for her to stop me.”
“So I’m to find a good wife?”
“In due time, you should and the proper wife can be a Helpmate to you. My wife and I will help you find her. Oh, don’t worry about being forced to join with her. That never works out for you or your would-be wife.
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Opps!
That should be “Of course, it’s easier for me than for you” not “Of course, it’s easier for me than for me.” [Embarrassed]
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The…thing screamed again; a loud, whistling sound that I had only heard once before, the high-pitched descending note of a demonic steam whistle combined with the blood-curdling betrayal of a stallion as it was being gelded by fingernails. Flecks of black-tar blood came from its mouth, spraying in fans of ichor and everywhere it hit was the hiss of hot steam and the tearing bubble of acid flung all over. And the creature’s terrible liquid-oil bulk heaved and rippled along the ground, claws whose very shape were completely non-Euclidian flashed as it came our way.
I knew what that scream was supposed to do-it was designed to make you so scared you either froze in fear or ran screaming in terror. Or even more foolishly charge in a berserker rage to cover fear with adrenaline and motion.
We’re the Dawn Empire’s blade and this is our purpose. We are here to face the most dangerous of monsters in close-quarters combat, to destroy and disperse them from our world.
I will admit that I wet myself, mostly out of fear. But I didn’t let the fear rule me, it was a focus for me, as my prana levels concentrated in my Regalia and my magic.
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”Well, sir, that gaggle over there looks scared but this herd on the right of their lines is continuing to send a heavy volume of bad puns our way.”
”Well, let’s put some skeer into them then – redirect second and third carpapult divisions to target that grouping on the right, to… let’s see, that’s grid 24E64B. No ranging, just fire for effect.”
“Yes, sir. There they go…”
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At last! Support troops!
(Typo – punners on the right of the opposing line would be on the left for the carpapulteers. But the grid reference resolves that.)
Carpapulteers are usually arrayed in yellow fishing slicks, and carry a dagger made from dried salmon. The color of each soldier’s sou’wester hat indicates the division.
As a long time reader of Richard Scarry, I am Scar’d for life.
Ah! I love the smell of fresh fish-guts in the morning!
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At last! Support troops!
(Typo: punsters on the right of the opposing line are on the left of the facing carpapulteers. Grid reference resolves that)
Carpapulteers are typically arrayed in yellow fishing-slicks. Their divisions are indicated by the colors of their sou’wester hats.
Punsters are in Teflon-coated motley and camo mufti. Like serial killers, they ‘look just like everybody else’.
As a long-time reader of Richard Scarry, I have been Scarr’d for life.
(( Did WPDE eat the first reply? I dunno – this is the second. ))
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This is, and is not, a vignette.
I just got out of the hospital today after having 3 stents put in my heart. I have to go back in a month to get the final one put in.
I’d been a little short of breath shoveling the garden earlier this year, but didn’t notice anything scary until I started doing a lot of walking up and down the roads in town for political support in the past month or so and noticed that when I did, or if I exerted myself, I’d get somewhat short of breath, ache or tightness in my chest, and my arms and jaws ached. The aches went away about 5 to 10 minutes after I stopped exercising. Turns out that was something called stable angina; which only shows up while exercising, and a sign of heart blockage.
Went into Wentworth Douglass ED on my doctor’s STRONG ADVICE, and they said, “Yep, we need to do a stress test on you and maybe an echocardiogram to see what’s going on.” Stress test was a solid positive, and the echo showed 3 blockages (30%, 90% and 99%.)
Fortunately, this was all before getting 100% blockage, and a heart attack. Which means ZERO damage to the heart muscle. But I will be seeing significant changes in medications and diet from here on out.
So, I’m off of work this week, and not working the polls. I’ll go in and vote though. Straight down the Republican ticket, and not skipping any positions.
Word to the wise. If you notice something “odd” about your heath, even if it’s a little thing, talk to you doctor about it. It may just save your life.
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Hope the fourth goes as well!
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So do I. But the ‘nice’ thing is you’re fully conscious, just sedated, for the procedure, and can hear and feel what’s going on. I was very impressed with competence of the surgeon and the entire team.
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Sedation knocks me out entirely.
All right, during the wisdom teeth extraction I vaguely remember being asked how I was and indicating I was fine. Nothing more for that, and nothing for the other times.
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“But the ‘nice’ thing is you’re fully conscious …”
This is the point where I’d be using the Surprised Face emoji, if there was one. But there’s a lot I don’t know. I was talking with an old friend last week who said the doctors inserted a tiny, tiny radio transmitter into his wife’s body as part of a cancer treatment. Astounding!
In any case, glad your docs were able to catch things in time, and I’m also conscious of your advice. At my age, it’s pretty pertinent. Here’s to a full recovery!
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“We shouldn’t sit where it could see us by the window,” said Rae. “We might have to fight it.”
“It hasn’t come in,” said Hans, though not with shining confidence.
“It hasn’t wanted to come in,” said Annike. “All sorts of flying things can come in. And fight Marcus.”
“It might not be able to,” said Jasper. “But if we wanted to know, we would have to know what it is, and we don’t know that. I wonder if they know in town.”
“They might,” said Marcus, realizing it was now actually essential. “I had to go anyway, so I will see.”
Jasper nodded. “I think that the windows are enchanted to keep them out. It did not come in after Marcus, when he first was here.”
Their chatter went on, and Marcus eased himself from the room. None of them noted he would face the creature on the road.
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Lunar sunrise and sunset are both magnificent and terrifying. You can read about the phenomenon of the “oni,” but it’s quite another thing to actually see those giant towers of dust moving along the surface along with the morning or evening terminator. Especially since there appears to be a quantum element involved, which somehow interacts with human consciousness in strange and unpredictable ways.
I’d read about them ever since I was a child, first discovering the wonders of the universe. But when it came time to encounter the actuality of those columns of dust, inexplicably glowing red and blue in my sight even as the cameras clearly showed them to be all indistinguishable gray, the fear was overwhelming. It was all I could do to take action, to get our rover to some modicum of shelter so we could power down non-essential systems.
And I could tell that my reaction had been noticed by the others. I’d be lucky if they just ribbed me about it for ages. The last thing I needed was to have someone in Medlab decide that I was psychologically unsuited for surface operations.
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Kenneth was awakened by the flashing red on his ceiling and walls. Looking out the window, he saw an ambulance idling outside, and paramedics rushing into the apartment house. Kenneth felt vicarious fear as he wondered to the ambulance was for.
Then he heard the knock on his front door.
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The roller coaster shook and rattled as it climbed the hill. “I’m a damned fool!” thought Max. “I was scared enough on the Giant Wheel. What business do I have riding this thing?” Beside him, Cari grinned in anticipation.
Then they hit the downslope. “Yiiiiii!” giggled Cari. “YIIIIIIII!” screamed Max.
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It has been years – decades, in fact – since I was actually scared to speak to an audience. In graduate school I learned that I had a gift of the witty reply that could shut off even the most obnoxious student (I never did learn to summon that one on demand, alas). Nervous? Oh yes, but if I wasn’t a bit nervous I wasn’t taking the talk seriously, and this was going to be a serious talk indeed.
No, I had never been called as an expert witness in front of a Grand Jury. When the Foreman stood on his hind legs to get the attention of the rest of the members, I think that bit of nerves was trying very hard to skip right past scared and hit fear.
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“Fear me!”
“Why?” I asked mildly.
“Because I will hurt you!”
“When?”
He looked at me menacingly and snarled. I smiled gently, inquisitively. He glared, then waved his hand Never Mind at me and stomped away, slamming the door behind him.
It’s when I can’t see him that I worry.
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While this could be characterized as these consumers being scared, I think the tone is more the reporting .gov is the entity that is scared:
FBI firearm background checks track higher ahead of the U.S. election
https://seekingalpha.com/news/4242155-fbi-firearm-background-checks-track-higher-ahead-of-the-us-election
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Passepartout lifted his head, eyes narrowing at the sound of running footsteps. A figure bolted past his hiding place, too quickly for him to distinguish details except that it was short, slight and wearing pants, not a skirt. <i>Another street rat,</i> was his first thought, followed by <i>And here comes the one he robbed.</i>
The second figure quickly closed with the boy, threw him into the wall and struck him viciously. Though normally Passepartout did not feel much empathy for street criminals, he found himself stepping forward.
“You have your thief, yes? Take what is yours and go!”
Whirling, the man raised his arm. Just as Passepartout realized he was about to be shot, Fixx roared “POLICE! Stop where you are!”
The gunman wasted no time but ran from the area, as Passepartout caught up to the boy. Fixx dashed past them but returned in a few moments, muttering that it was too dark to see anything.
The street thief leaned against the bricks, shaking like a leaf. Rather than cringing away, he clutched Passepartout’s arm.
“It’s ‘im, sir! If you hadn’t of been here, ‘e would’ve killed me… I never been so scared.”
“What do you mean, ‘him’?” Fixx queried.
“‘e’s the one they talk about, that grabs those like me that live down ‘ere. They say, when ‘e gets ‘old of you, no one never sees you again. I ‘eard of ‘im when I was dossed down in a ware’ouse. The others that sleep there, they told me.”
“What do you mean, my lad? I haven’t seen any reports of this in the papers.”
The boy gave Fixx a scathing look; Passepartout added a raised eyebrow. The detective sighed. “What am I saying, of course not. No one reports the disappearance of boys living on the street, do they?”
“‘Course they don’t,” the boy snapped. “And I’m not a thief! At least, I didn’t steal nothin’ from that one. Passed ‘im on the street and he started comin’ after me…” his voice shook.
“Look here, lad. We’re detectives. This is the sort of thing we try to stop.” Fixx traded looks with Passepartout. “If we get you to a safe place to spend the night, I want your word that you’ll talk to us in the morning. Not just you, but any of your friends – anyone at all who can tell us more about these disappearances. Will you work with us on this?”
The boy hesitated, then nodded. “Good lad. Come on, Passepartout. Let’s get him to Mother Edson.”
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