Book Promo And Vignettes By Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

*Because I’ve promised to give warning, since weird things seem to happen as soon as I clean, I’m going to be doing a quick clean after this, because the litter boxes are disgusting and the stairs are CRUNCHY. (With Litter.) So, you’ve been warned. – SAH*

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, as an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases. By clicking through and buying (anything book-related, 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. Remember though all of these submissions are from people willing to be associated with this blog. So if you’re trying to buy from people who don’t hate you, this is a good place to start.– SAH

FROM PAM UPHOFF: Filling in the Blank (Chronicles of the Fall Book 24)

A short story thirty years before the main events of the Fall of the Alliance.

Amnesia? Drugs? Magic?
Ilari Mikhailov has just lost nineteen years of his life . . . and apparently he’s been busy.
Now does he confess that? Or try to slide unnoticed into a life he doesn’t remember?
Not helped by the realization that he wasn’t a very nice person . . .

FROM ALMA T. C. BOYKIN: The Bard’s Curse: Bard’s Song Book One

In a world where words are power, a bard’s curse weighs heavy on those who draw his wrath.

Tuathal, master bard and prince of two realms, journeys north to his half-brother’s court. When Pyder of the Ford breaks the laws of hospitality, Tuathal’s satire brings ruin in its wake. But more than just righteous anger moves over field and forest. What began as an insult reveals far darker things moving in the realm Fiachta NoDomnail, low king of the Dunalaid.

A wandering bard and prince, Tuathal faces a war that will burn down all that his kindred have built. To stop it and lift a bard’s curse may cost more than he is willing to pay.

Words have power, but darker powers than those of man also have a say.

FROM LEE ECKHARDT: KOSMOPOLIS: A Novel of Berlin

It is the summer of 1927, the peak of Berlin’s ‘Golden Twenties’, an age that is soon to come crashing down – although no one knows it yet. One citizen of golden-age Berlin is Erich Zeller, shell-shocked veteran of the Great War and a ‘confidential agent’, the European version of a private detective, who is seriously down on his luck. That is why, when new client Kathe Eichhorn asks him to locate her cousin Rosa Losch, Zeller takes the case – even though he instinctively knows Kathe is lying to him. Asking no questions, he searches the heights and the depths of the great German kosmopolis, never suspecting where the case will lead him or what it will ultimately mean to him – for not only will Kathe Eichhorn prove to be much more than just a client, Rosa Losch will prove to be much more than just an innocent missing person. She is, in fact, a key part of an international conspiracy that involves the governments of two nations – both of which are willing to kill to keep the conspiracy a secret…

FROM D. A. BROCK: The Lone Star, The Red Banner, and the Rising Sun: Republic of Texas Navy Book 4

December, 1941.

With the Japanese attacks on Pearl Harbor and across the Far East, the war is now a true World War. The Axis nations appear to be at the height of their power, while the Allies are scrambling to recover from disaster after disaster.

In the middle of all this is the Republic of Texas. After nearly two years of war, the Texas Navy and Marine Corps have grown far beyond what the pre-war world could have imagined. Do they have what it takes to stay relevant in an alliance dominated by America, Britain, and the Soviet Union?

FROM HOLLY CHISM: The Schrödinger Paradox: Cataclysm

The end is coming.

Unlucky jerk Tom Beadle was on watch at NASA when the collision alert sounded: a new asteroid, bigger than the dino-killer, headed for Earth. Big problem, but that’s why we have NASA, right? Except, after decades of budget cuts, NASA has no way to shove it off course. That job has to be contracted out. Will the private sector company his best friend from college works at succeed where the government option failed? Might be best to have a backup plan, just in case…

FROM NATHAN C. BRINDLE: A Fox in the Henhouse (Timelines Universe Book 2)

Delaney Wolff Fox is a spy. A cute spy. A deadly spy.

A spy you want at your back when stuff gets real.

From a palatial office in Johannesburg, to a fancy whisky bar in Sydney, Australia, to a beautiful private beach in southwest Florida, to the great and wild city of New Orleans, Captain Delaney Fox, United States Space Force Marines (Intelligence Division) finds herself beset by assassins at every turn, while first saving an alien government’s valuable artifact from the South African cartel that’s stolen it, and then being assigned to guard said artifact while it completes a world tour, on loan from that same alien government.

But like the proverbial fox in the proverbial henhouse, you can count on Delaney to complete the mission and come out with the prize, intact and in hand – even if the “farmer” isn’t all that keen about her doing so.

FROM SARAH A. HOYT: Witch’s Daughter (Empires of Magic Book 2)

Some letters come from the living. Some come from the dead. This one comes with a formula that turns a rowboat into a miracle.

Seventeen-year-old Lord Michael Ainsling — youngest brother of the Duke of Darkwater, builder of mechanical marvels, survivor of fairyland — receives a letter from a man sixteen years dead. The inventor Tristram Blakley has not perished; he has been imprisoned by his own genius and begs the one mind in all of Avalon brilliant enough to understand his work to set him free. All Michael has to do is find seven missing brothers first and walk a magical path..

Fifteen-year-old Albinia Blakley has spent her whole life under her mother’s iron thumb — and her mother is a witch. The day Al finally escapes down a rope of knotted sheets, she lands in a world she doesn’t recognize, with no money, no magic kit, and no idea that the stranger who catches her is about to become her greatest ally.

Together, a girl with more secrets than she knows and a boy who builds machines that try to murder him must outwit a sorceress, navigate the treacherous courts of Fairyland, and unravel an enchantment years in the making — before a family is lost for good.

Witch’s Daughter is a gaslamp fantasy brimming with wit, warmth, and wonder, for readers who love their magic wrapped in velvet and their adventures served with morning tea.

FROM LEIGH KIMMEL: Grandmaster’s Gambit

The disastrous war of 1913 is over, and young journalist Isaak Babel has used his fame as a war correspondent to win a peacetime job covering an international chess tournament in New York City. However, trouble is aboard the airship Grossdeuschland, in the form of the notorious Bolshevik terrorist Koba and his henchmen. Men with a dark plan, and New York City will not welcome their visit

FROM CELIA HAYES: Return to Alder Grove

Love in all the wrong places – Caro Robertson was a professional researcher, employee and occasional on-air reporter for a national public radio outlet; the perfect job, the perfect condo, the perfect fiancée. She had the college education, the job, the social position, the perfect life … and then in one fell swoop, everything went sour. Wrong. Disastrously wrong. In the space of a single week, she lost her beloved pet, the perfect fiancée and then her job. What was left for her, but to return to Alder Grove, the little town in Texas where she lived as a child and try to rebuild that life and a new career?
Mark Bascomb – owner of a small fabrication business, small-town handyman, veteran and high-school drop-out; everything in life that Caro Robertson wasn’t. Could they find common ground with each other, a common interest, even love, when they are so different?
Find out when the sparks fly in Alder Grove, in this short romance novel by the author of the Chronicles of Luna City, and the Adelsverein Trilogy.

FROM JOHN BAILEY: The Three Worlds (The Aurigan Conflict)

The Kingdom of New Norway is dying.

When the Aurigan Empire launches a devastating offensive, defeat becomes inevitable. There will be no relief fleet. No miracle weapons. No last-minute rescue.

Instead, the king authorizes Operation Long Winter—an extraordinary evacuation that sends scientists, engineers, military leaders, and thousands of civilians into exile while one forgotten fortress remains behind to buy them time.

At Fort Harald, Colonel Halvorsen and a handful of instructors prepare the least likely defenders imaginable: cadets who have never fought a real battle.

Their sacrifice becomes the first link in an extraordinary chain.

Across three occupied worlds, refugees become resistance fighters. Small victories become organized rebellion. Secret networks spread from colony to colony, carrying hope farther than any fleet can travel.

Years later, when liberation finally comes, history remembers the great victory.

Only a few remember the people who made that victory possible.

The Three Worlds is an epic tale of courage, duty, and ordinary men and women who refuse to surrender their future. Perfect for readers who enjoy David Weber, Jack Campbell, and classic military science fiction rooted in honor, strategy, and the resilience of free people.

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 to ask.

Your writing prompt this week is: Language

29 thoughts on “Book Promo And Vignettes By Luke, Mary Catelli and ‘Nother Mike”

        1. There was just another one, wasn’t there?

          …yeah, the guy who cased the joint two days prior, was noted, came back, they recognized him, and when confronted he tried to claim he was there for the State Department to do security. LIke last week.

          Liked by 2 people

      2. That we know of. Who knows how many were stealthily thwarted without press coverage. Obviously Sarah needs to do more cleaning. Imagine how many would-be assassins could be unveiled!

        Like

  2. “Man alive! Harry has a real command of language!”

    “What do you mean? I can’t understand much of what he’s saying.”

    “Harry is “cussing them out” in a dozen languages and in the last fifteen minutes, he hasn’t repeated a phrase. And what’s extremely interesting is that he hasn’t used any blasphemous phrases”.

    “Isn’t “cussing them out” mean using blasphemous phrases?”

    “Not really, Harry hasn’t referred to God, Hell, Satan, or anything involving religion, but is wishing for more secular evils to happen to the targets of his wrath.”

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m writing a story with characters speaking several languages. I set them off with brackets instead of quotes. For example, I’m using curly brackets for Japanese:

        Tovala translated. Nobuko looked smug. {I have always known there are more things in Heaven and Earth than most people ever dream of.}

        Like

  4. “#$%^^&*@!” Pete yelled as he hit his thumb with the hammer.
    “He never used that language before he married you” his mother indignantly exclaimed.
    “He never used to hit his thumb before you started nagging” his wife replied.

    Like

  5. In Saudi, it seemed like every third word out of one of our shift lead’s mouth was the F-bomb.

    The highlight(?) of our time together was the evening we were returning to our lodgings when traffic was interrupted by an upside down car, burning (slightly), still running, athwart two lanes of the road, surrounded by onlookers. Ron grabbed a fire extinguisher and approached the group shouting, “Get the f¥¢* out of the way!”. One of the bystanders turned to him and asked, “The f¥¢*? What is the f¥¢*?”

    Language, Ron, language . . .

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I worked with a Navy senior chief petty officer in Japan who had a similar habit. It was amazing that when he and I coached boys age 10-12 baseball, he was the most mild-mannered and effective sports coach I’ve ever seen: never an improper word past his lips, only praise, encouragement, and constructive criticism.

      But at work, it was an average 2-3 F bombs in every sentence. Whenever he dropped below that threshold, I had to go ask if he was feeling alright.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Pippi twitched her whiskers with a typical feline smirk. While leaving several paws full of cat litter on the stairs annoyed her humans to a significant extent, she kept doing it for their own good. Home invasions and burglaries were up in the neighborhood. The crunch of someone stepping on the litter in the quiet of the night would wake her light sleeping people. And the litter on the hardwood stairs made it so much easier for Pippi to cause any thief to have an ‘unplanned’ descent to the first floor.

    Like

  7. Leo sighed as he beheld the twenty feet long purple and orange quasi-dinosaur that had just bleeped into existence. “Clive, please moderate your language. Creativity in cursing is not good in the classroom.”

    Clive, somewhere under the beast’s rear third, squeaked, “‘Orry sir.”

    Like

  8. Every language has its maledictions, and how that language forms them says a great deal about the culture of the people who speak it. In English we have the Seven Words You Can’t Say On Television, while in Russian there’s the fascinating manner in which one can use verbal prefixes to transform a few basic dirty words into a vocabulary that can form entire sentences. And then there’s Arabic, which makes malediction into an artform of vividly described curses, often involving camels and the ectoparasites that infest them.

    So we shouldn’t have been surprised after First Contact that alien maledictions should not only reflect the culture but also the biology of the speakers. In Chonguri you have multiple words that all literally mean “hairball,” but depend on whether it’s stuck in one’s gut, just being spat out, fresh on the floor, or several days old. And then there are all the words that were originally used to describe various kinds of spoilage in meat, but were used in a metaphorical sense until their denotative use became unwelcome in polite company and the words deteriorated into the verbal equivalent of a claw-swipe.

    Like

  10. Gray Roger hauled himself over the rim of the tub, wrapped his stringy tail around his sopping paws and told his human exactly what he thought of things as only an enhanced Balinese cat could.

    “Language!” Katana said, trying very hard not to laugh. “Besides, I think I have more cause to complain. It was my bubble bath, you know.”

    Like

  12. Remember, o Readers, that you can be FORCE MULTIPLIERS!

    After you read books, you can rate and review them!

    Even short reviews are of aid to the writer, because sheer mass helps. (And if you really can’t review, still rate.)

    Like

  13. Okay, everyone had the same idea, but nobody has done exactly the idea I had, so I’ll go ahead and submit mine:

    Lieutenant Keller opened the door and froze for a moment. Then, recovering his composure, started issuing orders.

    “Grayson, get a mop. Roberts, bucket of soapy water. Jones, go fetch trash bags.”

    Footsteps in the hall behind him. Keller spun around, then relaxed fractionally as he spotted Sergeant Turner.

    “Sergeant, make sure these three chuckleheads stick to their tasks. Then when you’re done, perhaps you could be so good as to enlighten me as to how the Belgium they got their hands on purple glitter in the middle of an Air Force base!?!”

    Turner chuckled. “Language, LT, language.”

    Like

  14. She glanced down. Her mouth felt incapable of movement.

    He shifted beside her. “Wife,” he said softly.

    She felt the heat starting to rise in her face. “Refresh me with raisins, strengthen me with apples, for I am sick with love.”

    He laughed a little, and pushed back the blankets.

    Like

  15. The problem wasn’t pronunciation. Ankim recognized Shinar’s words, yet each one fell to the ground like a dumb stone. Inert, devoid of meaning. The perplexed look on Shinar’s face told him the experience was mutual. Then, unbidden, a hazy memory from his boyhood…a church building and one particular story…

    **50 words exactly. I think. Now the long version.**

    The problem wasn’t pronunciation. There was no meaning. Ankim could recognize the words, but they formed strings of utter nonsense. The perplexed look on Shinar’s face told him that the experience was mutual. Words fell from their lips to land on the ground like stones, inert, reaching no one.

    Through the window, a clamor of tangled voices sounded in growing alarm. Passers-by, tourists, the repair crew working on the street. None of them intelligible. Ankim leaned out the window–all the technological progress the world had made, yet the university’s 19th-century buildings still lacked air-conditioning–and again could recognize words. Know them. Repeat them to himself, even. But in combination they were random, devoid of sense.

    “We need to turn the machine off,” he said. Perfectly understandable.

    But not to Shinar, who replied with a string of terrified gibberish.

    Yet Ankim knew what his colleague had said, for he was thinking the same thing. The machine was already off. It had sent out a single pulse, which would delete one word. If it worked, one single, horrifyingly offensive, hateful word, which no civilized person even wanted to say, would disappear from the collective human consciousness. Just one. And then they could fine-tune their system’s scope and effect. Add and subtract until they reached their goal: a single, harmonious collective language, devoid of hatred and insult, understood perfectly by every human being.

    And then a hazy memory from his boyhood arose unbidden: a clandestine Bible study meeting, before his parents had been arrested. Was there a king involved, he wondered? It seemed like there was always a wicked king…

    Like

  16. Yesterday I made a hamburger for supper, opened the pickle jar and discovered some sort of white crud floating on the surface. I must confess to using some strong language. 😛

    Fortunately I had backup pickles. 😁

    Like

  17. Pingback: Instapundit » Blog Archive » ON SUNDAYS I DO A PROMO POST FOR (MOSTLY) INDIE AUTHORS: NBook Promo And Vignettes By Luke, Mary Cat

  18. I’m a little late to the party this week. I’ve been running the Better Half to out-of-town doctor appointments, and we’ve got another today and a procedure tomorrow. The fun never stops.

    The Air Force captain looked left and right down the hallway before returning her gaze to the floor indicator above the elevator doors. In a hushed voice laced with anger, she said, “The President has ordered the Joint Chiefs to put our project under Space Force control with civilian oversight.”

    It was clear from her voice and her body language that she was not happy with the situation. No wonder the President’s fingerprints were all over my transfer. I shook my head, disgusted that I had been pulled into a political food fight.

    Like

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