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

*Sorry to be so late this week. I caught the extreme coughing bug that’s going around, and it’s making everything slow. – SAH*

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 PAM UPHOFF: A Political Marriage (Chronicles of the Fall Book 20

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Lord Kalev Meknikov a young noble in a high tech civilization . . . Lady Aurora Denhart a young lady with a father in politics . . . and you’d think in such a high tech society that political alliances wouldn’t require silly things like marriages between young members of the families . . .

But here they are . . .

A somewhat silly and sweet romance within a Science Fantasy Universe.

FROM MARTIN L. SHOEMAKER: Silent Tears (The Route Books of Bobo Buttons, Private Eye Book 2)

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The end of a grifter…

When Heath Brothers Greater Shows settles in Florida at their Winter Village, word of Bobo’s detective work spreads among the local shows. Bobo is approached by Storywise the Clown, a mute mime from another show. Storywise’s mother has been roped into a financial con, and she’s in danger of losing her life savings. Bobo tries to help without breaking Mama Wise’s heart.

But when the grifter is found dead and Storywise is accused, can Bobo find the real killer? Who’s behind this deadly long con? In this Hanukkah season, Storywise needs a miracle. Fortunately he has Bobo Buttons, Private Eye.

FROM LAURA MONTGOMERY: WALKABOUT: A Waking Late Prequel

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For fans of the Waking Late trilogy.

Clarence Satcom, prince and heir to one of Earth’s lost colonies, sets forth on a walkabout outside the terraformed valley of First Landing. He has plans both for the valley’s future and for the Pan who live outside it. The Pan steal First Landing’s children, and he intends to stop them.

But when he comes across one of his subjects trying to leave his domain, his journey veers down a more educational path. Whether he can learn the lessons offered is another question entirely.

For fans of Nwwwlf, the Waking Late trilogy, and Martha’s Sons. If you want a glimpse of Clarence in his youth, this story is for you.

FROM CHRISTOPHER G. NUTALL: Crash Landing (Boy’s Own Starship)

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Eric Crichton and his brother John thought they knew all about space: buy a beat-up old freighter, haul cargo from star to star, and stay one step ahead of the bankers. Easy, right? But when a shady charter lands them a mysterious medical package bound for a newly terraformed world, things go from routine to red-alert in a hurry.
A pirate ambush knocks Max Jones out of the sky, stranding the young crew on a wild, storm-swept planet where the weather is only the second most dangerous thing. The “plague” they were supposed to deliver turns out to be a lie, the package hides something worth killing for, and the pirates want it back, along with the kids who carry it. With their sister Maryam fighting for her life in a stasis pod, Eric must team up with a tough colony girl named Daisy, a sharp-eyed heiress who won’t be left behind, and a handful of hard-working settlers who know how to handle trouble.
They’ll need every trick they’ve got: quick thinking, faster hands, and the kind of stubborn courage that turns a crashed ship into a fighting chance. Outnumbered, outgunned, and running out of time, the young crew of Max Jones learns the hard truth: in space, no one’s going to come save you—you save yourself.
A fast-moving tale of high adventure, daring escapes, and the unbreakable spirit of youth: straight from the Heinlein tradition of boys (and girls!) who face the unknown and come out on top.

EDITED BY LAWDOG WITH A STORY BY LEE ALLRED: Plasma Pulp: Lost Worlds (Raconteur Press Anthologies)

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Step into ten stories of vibrant universes, where gleaming rays of energy shape the future and the past collides with the fantastic unknown. This collection of short stories invites you to explore a genre that is often called “Raypunk” or “Raygun Gothic,” but we call “Plasma Pulp”—because “punk” is overused, and we can. We bring you the electric optimism of retro-futurism, blending sleek technology of the future with the Old School spirit of adventure. Here, the impossible becomes tangible through visions of shimmering cities, heroic inventors, and cosmic mysteries illuminated by pulsating light. Within these pages, you will encounter daring escapades and enigmatic characters who navigate a landscape defined by gleaming technology and surreal possibilities. Whether it’s battling sinister forces with futuristic weaponry or unraveling the secrets of radiant power, each story pulses with the incandescent energy of plasma pulp’s unique vision.

FROM J. KENTON PIERCE (This time with cover because I got a link.): The Warlord of Greenline Town (Tales From the Long Night Book 2)

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In the ruins of Hesperides Colony, scarred by volcanic winters and orbital threats, Captain Ravati Aziz safeguards underground Greenline Town. A veteran trooper turned cop, she balances family with bondmates and kids amid a corrupt town council, brutal Blackcheek gangs, and nomadic Pridesmen driving herds through deadly badlands.

When a notorious homesteader unearths a crashed starship packed with lost tech and comes to Greenline looking for help, Ravati volunteers, knowing what’s at stake.As vanished Gentle Walkers return with secrets and politicians scheme for power, Ravati allies with warriors and scholars to defend her home.

In a brutal world of hard choices, can she stop Greenline’s slide into tyranny?

EDITED BY JAMES YOUNG: On The Sea: Naval Alternate History (Arc of Ares)

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You seldom hear of the fleets except when there’s trouble, and then you hear a lot.
— Admiral John S. McCain

The sea. Bearer of commerce, fertilizer for empires, and a battlefield where the environment itself is set to kill the warriors who engage each other upon it. From the galleys of ancient Greece to the deadly, silent murder machines of the nuclear age, Mankind has set across the oceans to visit great harm upon their fellow man on distant shores. On The Sea brings you alternate endings to these voyages, with characters and points of divergence as varied as the oceans themselves.

Prefer your sea tales in an era of wooden ships, coal smoke, and iron men? Dragon Award Winner Sarah Hoyt (“For Want of A Pin”), 2025 Imadjinn Award Winner Dan Kemp, and Day Al-Mohamed (“Martha Coston and the Farragut Curse”) will give you all the splinters, canvas, and cannonballs you could ask for.

Like your torpedoes to be self-propelled rather than damned and your fleet actions wreathed in coal smoke? Veteran authors Joelle Presby (“A Safe Wartime Posting”), Rob Howell (“Far Better to Dare”), and Philip Wohlrab (“Beatty’s Folly”) bring you very different endings to the Spanish American War and World War I that stretch from the Falklands to the Irish Sea.

“I don’t know, I’m more a fan of Long Lances than Black Lung…” Dear reader, On The Sea has so many Imperial Japanese Navy cameos, there should be an Imperial Chrysanthemum on the cover. Two-time Dragon Award nominee Kacey Ezell, 2024 Imadjinn winner William Alan Webb, and Sidewise Award Finalist Lee Allred will give you turning points from the volcanoes of Rabaul to the far reaches of the Indian Ocean.

More a fan of Détente than Bushido? 2010 Sidewise Award winner Eric G. Swedin provides a new short story set in his When Angels Wept universe, while 2020 Sidewise nominee William Stroock keeps the Geiger counters growling with his short “Atlantic Flash.” If you like your points of deviation with more pho sauce and less unscheduled sunrises, 2025 Dragon Award nominee Justin Watson (“Decision Over Cam Ranh”) and editor James Young (“Mr. Ford’s Cats”) provide two very different views of war in Indochina.

Bottom line: Whether you’re partial to Ares or Poseidon, On the Sea has alternate history that scratches the nautical itch. With a carefully curated mix of previously published favorites and new stories, this thunderous conclusion to the Arc of Ares series reflects what happens when the war god brings his chaos over the water’s edge. Grab a cutlass or activate the CIWS, as the fish are about to get fed!

Editor’s Note: Also includes excerpts from James Young’s Wonder No More, an alternate history of the Battle of Leyte Gulf.

FROM JERRY STRATTON: The Padgett Sunday Supper Club Sestercentennial Cookery: Celebrate 2026 with recipes from 1796, 1876 and 1976.

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This Sestercentennial Cookery celebrates the 250th anniversary of American Independence with recipes from Bicentennial cookbooks and from Centennial cookbooks. It also features recipes from the very first American cookbook, the 1796 American Cookery, and is interspersed with historical texts from Independence Days of yore.

FROM CHARLI COX: Whistles of the Wendigo: A Joint Task Force 13 Legacy Novel (Joint Task Force 13 (JTF 13))

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When the war ends… a new nightmare begins.

The smoke of the Civil War has barely cleared when another battle ignites—this time, on the homefront. A fiery prohibition movement is tearing the state apart, and the governor calls in the US Army’s 6th Cavalry to keep the peace.

But peace is the last thing they’ll find.

On patrol, Sergeant David Wilkerson and his troop ride straight into a ghostly fog—and straight into hell. A terrified horse disappears—a mangled carcass returns. Something ancient and hungry has awakened.

The saloons go silent. The townsfolk go missing. The line between law and chaos is about to be crossed.

Now, with tempers boiling and terror creeping in from the shadows, Wilkerson and his men must ride into the unknown, face what lies in the mist…

…and stand as the last defense between Heaven and Hell.

FROM JOHN C. A. MANLEY: All the Humans are Sleeping (The Metaverse Trilogy)

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A Farmer, a Robot and the End of the World

World War III lasted only six days. Within the first few hours, my farm in Manitoba burned to the ground. The blast that destroyed our home came from the same mushroom cloud that killed my wife. I wish it had nuked me, too, but those heartless robots saved me.

They also rescued my daughter, so I can’t damn them. She was the only thing keeping me alive… until the metaverse took her away.

Yes, I’ve tried to kill myself. I may do it again. But that purple Domesticbot with its pompous British accent keeps on interfering.

The robots won’t let us go to heaven and the humans have made Earth a living hell. As an alternative, the United Nations has offered our minds a virtual purgatory in the metaverse, while our bodies are preserved in synthetic amniotic fluid like overgrown babies. One billion survivors “live” in those pods — hard-wired to the internet — forced to dream a digital fantasy where flowers never wilt and wither.

Well, I refuse their faux flowers. So what if they burnt up all the real ones?

Still, how can I accept this post-apocalyptic world? Can I endure being cloistered on this desolate mountaintop on the northernmost tip of Norway with an unhinged robot that wears a suit and tie and aspires to be a poet?

My name is Peter Stevens, the last of the Luddites. But I don’t know if I can remain awake when… all the humans are sleeping.

FROM CHARLES ALDEN SELTZER, REVIVED BY D. JASON FLEMING: The Raider (Annotated): The classic pulp western!

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When Ellen Ballinger got abducted, she managed to turn it into a complicated scheme to end up married to Jeff Hale. Jeff didn’t much like liars, nor stubborn, wrong-headed women like Ellen… and yet, there was something about his new wife, something a good deal less complicated than the land-grabbing scheme that he was facing from skunks like Dallman and Kellis. And seeing justice done, while staying on the right side of the law, and the right side of his new wife, would be more complicated still…

  • This iktaPOP Media edition includes a new introduction giving the book historical and genre context.

FROM HOLLY CHISM: The Law of Magical Contagion

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The capper to Siobhan Miller’s terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day was a dog, tied to the stop sign. She hates dogs. She’s terrified of dogs, and that was a big dog. Looking sad and lonely, tied to a stop sign. That was not okay. She was the only one around, so she took him home. Only to find that he wasn’t a dog, but one of the Good People, under a curse. And there were more of them.

And they were all after her. And all she had was the dog (who wasn’t a dog) to help keep her from being taken away from all she’s ever known. Because that dog? He and his twin sister are family that she didn’t know she had, and their appearance has upended everything she’s ever known about herself. Including that she was human to begin with. She has a lot of questions.

Starting with curses, and how and why they sometimes spread.

FROM NATHAN C. BRINDLE: The Lion of God (Timelines Book 1)

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John Wolff has been handed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Again.
He’s already saved the love of his life from an early death – thirty years after she died.
Now, a beautiful young woman, who is clearly his daughter, has appeared from the timeline branch where that same love of his life survived and married his counterpart.
She says they need his help fighting off invaders from the far future. Who, by the way, are looking for him. Why? Because they want the starship drive he and a friend invented, the precursor to their time machine. Problem is, in her timeline, it hasn’t been invented yet.
What man can resist a cry for help from his own daughter?
Particularly when the invaders think she’s a saint. Or possibly, a devil wearing saint’s clothing. And they’re looking for her, too.
Thus begins the Timelines Saga, and the story of the Lion of God.

I’m rotating my recommendations like a sensible person would… Next week there will be a Collection on pre-order. Until then: this one’s still here, still awesome. (And every time I link it, it sells. I’m not arguing with results!)

FROM SARAH A. HOYT: No Man’s Land: Volume 1 (Chronicles of Lost Elly)

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Sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from magic.

On a lost colony world, mad geneticists thought they could eliminate inequality by making everyone hermaphrodite. They were wrong. Catastrophically wrong.
Now technology indistinguishable from magic courses through the veins of the inhabitants, making their barbaric civilization survivable—and Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus Kayel Hayden, Viscount Webson, Envoy of the Star Empire—Skip to his friends— has just crash-landed through a time-space rift into the middle of it all.
Dodging assassins and plummeting from high windows was just the beginning. With a desperate king and an archmagician as his only allies, Scipio must outrun death itself while battling beasts, traitors, and infiltrators bent on finishing what the founders started: total destruction.
Two worlds. One chance. No time to lose.

Volume 1
The Ambassador Corps has rules: you cannot know everything, don’t get horizontal with the natives, don’t make promises you can’t keep.
They’re a lot harder to follow when assassins are hunting you, your barbarian allies could kill you for the wrong word, and death lurks around every corner.
The unwritten rule? Never identify with the natives.
Skip’s already broken that one.
Now he’s racing against time to save his new friends from slavery—or worse—while dodging energy blasts and political intrigue. One crash-landed diplomat. A world of deadly secrets. And absolutely no backup.

Some rules are meant to be broken. Others will get you killed.

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: LIMPING

Betrayal

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This is not a post (solely) about writing. It’s also about politics, but first we have to get there.

Yesterday I was talking with a group with friends who also happen to write. (Look, there’s writer-friends, who are mostly friendly acquaintances because that’s at the center of what we have in common. And then there’s friends who are friends for a million other reasons and would probably be my friends even if their mind had never spun a single tale.)

Anyway, in this the topic of “Betrayal” came up. More than one author (some my friends) have had their fandom turn on them, suddenly, when they found out the author is actually not a raving, lunatic lefty. Or not a swinger. Or not a fur or in one remarkable case male. How they could have missed he was male is inexplicable, though I think that’s just like fandom turning on Heinlein suddenly when being male became the equivalent of being anti-woman. (In the heads of the deeply indoctrinated. Not any sane person.)

These situations are always profoundly wounding, because the fandom feels betrayed — even if they were talked into/spun into feeling betrayed. That’s something I don’t fully understand, because if I were capable of reacting that way I wouldn’t have arrived at my beliefs. But I know it happens — and the author is usually sucker punched and really, really, really feels betrayed.

Writing is weird and weirdly isolating. There is a reason writers need to have writer friends. When I wake up and realize I dreamed all night of an imaginary world, for any non-writer this would be alarming and possibly a sign of psychosis. For me it’s Tuesday and an occupational hazard. Other writers just sort of nod and sigh.

So writers have writer friends, but almost all of us who have some measure of success, even beginners with a knot of five or six readers, have fans they rely on. Because writing is communication. When I talk about my alpha readers (I promise, guys, you’ll get Chinchilla of Hope T-shirts before the end of the year. You poor sods earned them) I’m talking about the people who see stuff fresh off the brain. Sometimes their reactions tell me if I’m giving the wrong impression, which will need to be corrected, or when things that were merely okay to me will ellicit a “wow.” My own group for that is small, though the paid subscribers to substack serve as beta readers (THANKS YOU GUYS for not running screaming when I started posting No Man’s Land. That would have stopped me cold.) And then there’s a larger group of fandom I’m not that close to or close with. I like a good number of them, and if they ALL decided they hated me it would have a bad effect on my bottom line, but we’re not emotionally entangled.

To an extent I’m envious of the writers to whom the larger group is like an extended family, at least on the fans side. There’s a lot of support there, and it helps you and buoys you through the rough stuff. But then there is the risk. Specially if what you write is not–

How do I put this? It might be impossible for writers to write something they don’t believe in. Which is why I don’t tend to write aliens, except in short stories where I can get away with it without thinking too hard. My aliens tend to be modified humans. And I don’t think I could write a functioning, happy communist society. Because I can’t believe in it. At the same time it’s possible for incidental things in our writing to be things we don’t like, don’t approve of OR MORE IMPORTANTLY would never do in our daily lives. For instance, much to the relief of all and sundry I’m not a nudist. (I don’t disapprove of it, I just find it in general unaesthetic and it makes the furniture smell.) I don’t kill people left and right. If brooms existed I’d never, in the history of ever get on one to fly around (fear of heights AND no sense of direction.) I also have never — to date — turned into a dragon. And for the record, I would never kill a bunch of strangers to lay my eggs in them. Er. If I lay eggs. Which I don’t. Oh, and though I have gay characters, I’m not gay. In fact I am hard-core monogamous. (I was going to say I’m only attracted to men, but more and more every day I’m only attracted to man — and he’s sitting there, right now, being sick as a dog with a head cold. Ah well.)

However, because books are the closest we can come to living in someone else’s head, we tend to think of the character as the author. The right (broadly) is better at knowing there’s a difference and appreciating the writer anyway, because for decades all we had was well… commies who inadvertently wrote stuff we liked.

The left doesn’t have that experience. The people who fall on the broad left are also way more … socially conforming. (Not incidental, leftism has been a positional good for decades. So it attracts the socially conforming.) and therefore seem to identify HARDER with stories and characters and project them on to the author/director/actor.

So, when they find out this person is not in fact of them and doesn’t have the characteristic they love in the character, they become furious. They feel hurt and betrayed. And they go to war in the way of the socially adept.

Which in turn wounds the author because this is the author’s SUPPORT that suddenly turns and bites him/er on the butt.

I was thinking about it, and realized I’m not like that for various reasons. One of them being because I’ve been betrayed so often I have calluses. There really have been a lot of these. Some politics, some just because I’m oblivious about social duck speak, and will obliviate (totally a word) past the first two, three, ten warning signs, then be shocked at the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

I’m not saying if my alpha group suddenly ejected me and started telling nasty tales about me I wouldn’t be hurt like a teen girl who finds her boyfriend kissing the cheerleader, but probably could be cured by rocky road ice cream and a week of moping. And then I’d find other alpha readers. It’s happened before.

Then I thought part of the reason of course is that my fiction writing which isn’t political (Oh, yes, look, it has my ideas in it, and to the extent everything including a character shooting someone is now political, that is inescapable, but–) I mean, I’m not writing to promote a political idea. I’m writing the story that won’t shut up. Political points come from being written by me and my being a political being.

Most of the betrayals and messy break ups have come from the political side. And I even GET that. My beliefs have … evolved. When I wrote Darkship Thieves (13 years before it was published) I was a far more red-meat Libertarian bordering on anarchist. But times go by and things happen to and around you, and you change. I abandoned open borders at 9/11. I hadn’t yet realized the cultural risk, but I realized the military/terror risk. And I had kids. So that became a “no” really fast. Then in the last ten years I’ve come to understand the cultural risk, because we’ve all been living with it. (Also seeing my kids grow and cope with visits to Portugal highlighted the difference cultures make.) I’ve — kicking, screaming and under protest — become less of a free market absolutist. Oh, no. Not inside our borders, but outside. Look, there is no way you can separate “trading freely with countries that aren’t free” from undue political influence and money used as weapons, and for the love of all that’s holy, ending up with our chips and our medicine being manufactured by people we can’t trust.

I guess my opinions change, as things happen. I’ve become a lot harder in some ways. Scar tissue in the soul will do that. (10/7. I’ll never be okay. It hardened my opinion that some cultures are not fixable.)

Thing is, I also know the right has experience betrayals, and I understand that too. There have been people on the right who carry the flag for a while and then change, inexplicably over night. And none of us knows the risk factors other than that most of them came from the left, and there’s a chance they are a minority or otherwise belong to a group claimed by the left.

It’s never fully explained. The person themselves don’t seem aware of having changed. And the readers/listeners/watchers are left contemplating a transformation sudden and complete that we can’t help but experience as betrayal. This is not gradual change, like what I’ve gone through over the years, but sudden screaming fury.

I’m not going to hypothesize. I mean anything from possession to blackmail is on the table, though it’s probably particularly for those going against type just the attrition of being hated — really really hated. They bring the hellfire forge out for us — by the left, and distrusted by the right. Humans are social creatures. Isolate them and at some point they break.

I broke long ago, and am not sure I can break further.

Can I prevent you feeling betrayed? Probably not. A lot of people felt betrayed I didn’t think Russia is wonnerful TM. (Look you, I’d never think a totalitarian regime is wonnerful, even if it seem to support “right” values. Also, I’m afraid I know too much about Russian History and culture to even think their values are our own. I also won’t think China as currently constituted or in any form possible in the near future is wonnerful. I also think blackpill fights on the side of the enemy and I’ll never swallow it. Insert bit from Heinlein about being free even if chained. Will never surrender.)

What I want to say is that the problems I’ve had getting in arguments with long established fans are because either they’re trying to convince me of something I know is impossible, or because they are in violent agreement with me but refuse to realize it. And I have very little patience for being yelled at. I get enough of that from the cats, thank you.

But even when I get very upset, it’s not because they — or I — changed completely overnight.

Will I have the same opinions in ten years or twenty, supposing I’m alive? no. Things will happen and as facts impose upon my thoughts, my thoughts change.

However barring brain injury I’ll never change overnight. And if my opinion changes, I try to explain why. And some people — Foxfier, RES to name two — have pushed me back from forming and weird convictions by beating me with facts and figures which after research and investigation proved correct and my opinion wrong.

Anyway, not sure if any of this makes any sense. Just: I understand betrayal hurts. I’m a multiply-scalded cat, which is why I’m less likely to break completely.

As for the rest of you? Carry on. Even when betrayal breaks out heart, we must carry on.

Or as my grandmother said “Make your gut into a new heart and forge on.”

You’re allowed to be tired, and despondent, and eat rocky road ice cream even though it’s bad for you. But be not afraid. Through fire and betrayal, through falling and picking ourselves up: in the end we win, they lose. Even if not today.

State of (some) publishing

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By Holly the Assistant

A couple days ago, Sarah had the bright idea of listing off a bunch of authors on X, and asking her followers who else writes and Xeets. So we have a list, of Indy, Trad, and whatever other flavors of writers are around. This also prompted me informing a whole lot of folks that if you get paid for it you are a professional, and yesterday’s repost at MGC of the Real Writer Certificate. (You can get yours here: https://madgeniusclub.com/2026/01/21/the-velveteen-author/)

Here is the list of Xeeting authors. They may or may not post politics, writing, or anything else: the single requirement was that someone who follows Sarah put the handle on the list. (FTR IndyAntifa is MadMike. Because trollolol.)

@davefreersf

@Jringo1508

@mcahogarth

@JulieCFrost

@TKratman

@NathanCBrindle

@BradRTorgersen

@karentraviss

@Sverizona

@The_Hankerchief

@JohnTaloni

@monsterhunter45

@zakueins

@Andrew_G_Nelson

@RocketPulpHack

@RickPartlow66

@TheJasonAnspach

@Hadrians_Gate

@hpcjoe

@wallywaltner

@DentonSalle

@JayMaynard

@Ogiel23

@KarlKGallagher

@paul_leone

@AlysssaHazel

@LydiaSherrer

@Devon_Eriksen_

@RileyCBolt

@RGWilliscroft

@AlastairMayer

@Dr_Mauser

@NewCoffiest

@Rhodri2112

@JohnBailey64182

@bpardoe870

@caitliniwalsh

@Jesse_A_Barrett

@raconteur_press

@WatcherDamned

@cedarlili

@HollyChism

@dagney_kavanagh

@IndyAntifa

@DavidB90524

@djwojcik57

@wombat_socho

@PulpHerb

@mmcshanewrites

@profornery

With that out of the way, you may notice that some of your favorite authors are pointing you to places other than Amazon a lot more than they have previously. This is likely mostly for the very practical reason that Amazon has been having some code issues lately. They appear to be fixing it as fast as they reasonably can, but it is, I am told by those who have reason to know, a large and kludgy amount of total code. They have informed authors of the problems, but the problems are on going, and if you encounter one on the buyer end, go ahead and report it to them.

For instance, I went hunting for a brand new book by a friend that I knew Sarah wanted a link for. Brand new, as in it had only dropped that moment, the friend had posted it on Facebook and as is the nature of Facebook, it put a bunch of tracking crud in the link. I had the author name and title in hand. And Amazon’s website refused to turn off the 4 stars plus filter for me. Which, being a brand new book, I could not find, because no one had yet finished reading it and starred it. I griped to friends: Nathan didn’t have the broken filter issue and was able to get the actual clean link for me.

That sort of silly code problem. If we can’t find books, we can’t buy books, and authors really like us to buy books.

And if no one told you, the new Dresden Files dropped yesterday. Early reports from friends include “Didn’t sleep” and “Work’s going to suck today but worth it”. So see you on the other side!

AND I got to see another chapter of the sequel to No Man’s Land. I adore the first voice character. She’s the kind of woman I aspire to be. Though maybe leaving fewer dead bodies behind . . . but they all deserve it, so . . . yeah. When I grow up, I want to be Vic.

The Way We Were

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Friends (Romans, Countrymen, Dragon otherkin!) I’ve found Antro the Lifegiver by John Degan, but I haven’t finished it.

Partly it’s going slow because of my not seeing as well as I did in the eighties, and having trouble reading the teeny print of a 60s paperback. (I have new glasses on order. They haven’t arrived yet. And my astigmatism is way off.) I prefer books on the kindle, because they allow me to lie to myself about being older than dirt, I guess. I can put the print at six or seven and never tell anyone (except you guys now.) I mean, eventually it will be at nine and I’ll get a word per page. Maybe they’ll make massive kindles then. Or maybe there will be robotic eyes or something.

Anyway, there might also be the slight thing of the new Dresden files having dropped today, and — um… — anyway, so….

One thing that has occurred to me while reading the beginning is that the science fiction of the mid century is almost all infused with a heavy military subtext. Even when they are not strictly military — like Star Trek — the structure is military and there is a bearing and a behavior to the people that are more military than not.

What do I mean they’re not military in Star Trek? Well, it’s not Starship Troopers style mil sf.

Like most mid-century sf, it’s exploration, but the exploration corps has a military structure.

In that sense, it’s actually pretty interesting, because the earliest, pre or just after WWI sf pulp is the individual genius or group of them, or the lone scientist having a breakthrough. But by the mid century is exploration groups in military format, with ranks…

And there’s something about the way people interact that bespeak military experience.

Oh, I don’t mean there aren’t exceptions. Of course there are. But the basic, most generic, pulp sf is people in vaguely military arrangements.

And it occurred to me this made perfect sense. Most of the authors writing in the fifties and sixties were in fact veterans and likely WWII veterans.

But even those who hadn’t fought for whatever reason, had probably grown up watching World War II movies. As did I, btw, and reading WWII biographies and analysis.

This is because — even though to me at the time it seemed like ancient history, since most of the movies were from when the world was in black and white — I was born less than twenty years after the end of World War Two. This, of course, affected the generation before me.

Not just the various analysis of the war and the embrace or repulsion of war as a method, but the discipline, structure and experience of the war itself.

So the default, low effort writing had military or quasi-military groups.

Equally logically, that is no longer true, unless you’re specifically writing mil sf.

What do I mean by this?

Well, I was thinking there are many things a generation — or two, or three — think it’s “natural” but it’s not. It’s the result of when the genre took off. Or of what was happening in the world at the time.

Now that we live more than say four to five decades, at least a substantial portion of us, and the cultural influence of generations is taking way longer to clear from the culture, it’s important to remember this. It’s important to remember that the circumstances of our childhood are not necessarily more “real” or better than today’s.

We were born in a particular place in history. And it came freighted with baggage of — for it — recent events.

Very different, yes, but then our generation was very different in upbringing from the previous.

It’s important to step back and look at things with a curious eye. Not all difference is wrong. And things change with time. Right now it seems very likely that whoever lands on Mars will be a civilian employee of a privately held corporation. And heaven only knows who the first colonists will be.

None of that matters. Those are details. It’s the will to go, to reach ever farther, to take humanity out of the one single place where we exist and to the stars, so we won’t go extinct by accident or due to the vagaries of climate and circumstance that matters.

Whatever form that pushing forward takes.

Jeff Greason once told he always wondered if the form the expeditions to Mars took was the result of German influence on the space program. And that’s likely true. But it was also a quintessential midcentury project. “If we can defeat the Nazis, we can put a man on the moon.” — Note this was later weaponized into “if we put a man on the moon we can defeat poverty.” None of which made sense. — and the idea that big government and its projection of force were the way to accomplish big things.

In a way this was also the result of the concentration of industry and news and… well, everything that reached its apex mid century.

We live in different times now. In fact so different it’s shocking how far we came in such a relatively short time.

And it doesn’t matter. In the end what matters is getting off this rock. By any means necessary.

The Isekai Rag

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Yesterday, in my long puzzlement as to why Europeans don’t seem to get into big groups online (the kids do a little more than the older people but not like Americans where most of our friends might be spread throughout the country.) It was suggested this is because Americans form spontaneous organizations like mad people. And this is true and probably most of it. There are probably other contributing factors, including that Europeans have more “local community” things. Partly because they all live in countries so small you need a passport to swing anything larger than a ten week old kitten. And partly because the automobile took a lot longer to get widespread there, while here we have a century of it.

In fact by historical norms we are the weird ones. The very, very weird ones. Our own little mutant country. If you’re an American (since I don’t think there are any pure blood Amerindians left, except by bizarre genetic piling on accident) either you or your ancestors, when you decamped to America, left everything behind once already. So it’s perfectly normal for us to move all over. And when our kids grow up, they move too. Our families might be spread across distances that would make Europeans’ eyes water. (You should have heard me trying to explain to the family that my older kid didn’t move that far away. It’s less than ten hours driving, after all. We can do it in a single day if we start up early and only stop once for lunch. That’s nothing. Practically next door. We see him every couple of months. Meanwhile, the Portuguese family is trying to condole with me as if he’d moved… well, across the ocean.) Anyway, that combined with the fact we work way too much compared to Europeans, means that we have little time for local stuff or to establish local ties, even when we try. (We see our local friends once every three or four months.) On the other hand, we’re still humans with need for community, so in between the edges of our very weird lives, and around the corners of our work, we make friends online. Which explains why we have friends all over the country, including in some places you don’t expect to have conservatives. (Waves at Bill in New Haven and Ian in Chicago!) Which means we have on the ground reporting, which means that the “official truth” from on high increasingly gets us to snort-giggle.

All this long introduction has nothing to do with today’s post and Honorable Truck-Kun above. I had an allergy shot yesterday, and it hit me as it hasn’t since early on, in that the entire day reads fuzzy in memory and I committed some interesting howlers. As in, I realized I left a whole cup of coffee by my computer, which… let’s say it’s a good thing I covered it up. Since I sweeten my coffee, Indy would have consumed it and would probably be at the emergency vet today.

Anyway, this brings us to Honorable Truck Kun.

The other things Americans do that is not so common in Europe is self improvement. I figure it’s also because we (Hi, guys) and our ancestors came here as the ultimate self-improvement, leaving everything behind and reinventing ourselves.

All the books from Thinking Yourself Skinny (I do, I do. The body doesn’t agree) to completely reinventing some trait of your personality do big in … America. Oh, they sell overseas too, but the mechanic is different. They’ll catch fire in an entire country, and then the entire country will get disillusioned at the same time and ditch it.

Yes, sure, this also leaves us wide open for things like cults and very weird — I still think of them as California — manias, chakras and auras and heaven knows what else. There is good and bad.

Europeans tend to resign themselves. They usually know what their ancestors were like, and therefore accommodate themselves to “this is how we are.” Which is more tranquil but also more subject to despondency and manipulation. (Few people directly remember their ancestors more than three generations. Which is also why being blamed for your ancestors’ guilt is nonsense.)

Anyway, I am of the trying to improve and reinventing myself mind. Of course I am. I mean, I came here, all by my own self, didn’t I? (Okay, husband helped, but he was already here. Born here. Ancestors here for generations. Since… 1650? Very forethoughtful (totally a word) of him. He’s a planner. I like that about him.)

Now, is self-improvement extra specially effective and last forever? Are you kidding me?

We’re still human, with human bodies and human limits. And I don’t know about all of you, but my body doesn’t JUST ignore me on thinking myself skinny. It pretty much holds two middle fingers aloft when I ask it to do something, more and more as I age. It’s very annoying. It also never tells me anything like, you know “those disgusting sweats you’ve been having, waking you up at night? You should be taking an anti-histamine while doing these desensitization treatments.” Annoying meat-suit.

Anyway, yes, self-improvement only does so much. Most of it tends to rubber band by sheer inertia.

However it does something. Each time I try, it improves a little, and now looking back I’m a completely different beast than I was forty years ago, and largely, yes, for the better.

My perennial battle, more than anything else, is with the fact I’m ADD AF (As F***. My older son’s scientific classification of me. Apparently other people are ADD. People who can’t stand in line at the grocery store more than three minutes and wander off to look at things that catch their eye are ADD AF.) as well as with the fact that yes, to be sure, I’m cramming three lives and five jobs onto a normal day.

When you’re like that, mistakes are made. The mistakes accumulate. And after a while you can’t move for the debris of regret, guilt and depression. And unfortunately, at some point you become the walrus in Alice in Wonderland, wallowing and crying (and still doing more stupid sh*t, because who cares.)

And this is why I’ve come up with the Honorable Truck Kun and the Isekai Rag.

Note that ragtime (which is my husband’s favorite thing to play on the piano) is a repetitive, recurring rhythm. This will happen again and again.

As for Truck-Kun and Isekai, I don’t read this stuff (though I’m willing to try it. I just recently popped up from 3 years of Jane Austen fanfic, so…. I have a lot backlog to read) but my younger fans, my kids’ age tell me there is a whole range of being hit by a truck and waking up in a whole new life: Isekai. For a movie with this beginning, try Yesterday. (His decision is stupid, the mechanism of fate doubtful, the morality flawed, but the movie itself is a delight nonetheless. Just don’t think too hard on it.) For the other works, I’ll let the fans in the comments tell you.

BUT before I’d heard of Isekai I’d come up with this solution to cut the threads of regret and guilt and “if I could go back in time.”

Okay, you’re you but not really you. Your consciousness belongs to someone else who got hit by Truck Kun on the streets of some other world. You don’t have those memories. In fact the only memories you have are of the body you landed in.

But the important thing is that: You’re here. You’re not responsible for anything that created this situation. It’s not your fault. And you feel in your heart of hearts you came from greater things and are destined for greater things.

Yes, the house is a mess (how does someone not only not finish unpacking in five years, so that one room is just impassible, but accidentally create another such room? Guys, this chick was a mess.) The cats are — oh, yeah, cats. And the work is years and years behind.

But I’m here now, and it’s time to clean, organize, and set a schedule.

I’ll fall off the horse, of course, because the body I fell into has its own habits. But something will remain, and I’ll be a little more productive, a little neater, a little less verklempt.

And there’s things I want to do. Resume the art thing — turns out one of the few gifts I can give people is portraits. — Resume ancient Greek. Books I need to read. And oh, my heavens, books to write. Yes, it’s all a mess. That’s what happens when you drop in.

BUT– The Isekai rag is playing, and I’m going to do it.

Come with me. Wave at imaginary Truck-Kun as it speeds on to hit another dancer, and let’s get going.

We’re destined for greater things (DUH, we’re American) and we can’t stand around waiting.

Now — isekai rag!

Europe So Far Away

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I have a letter from my father awaiting a reply. He wishes to talk by correspondence, he says. Which is fine. I do get we’re both somewhat deaf and talking to each other on the phone is more difficult than in person.

The problem is that the older he gets the tinier his handwriting, to the point he can cram a normal letter on the back of a postcard. And I’m in the dreaded lands of presbiopia. So I didn’t understand ALL of his letter, only parts of it, enough to get the gist. (And he’s going to be strangely discommoded by mine, because my handwriting used to be merely ugly, but — in case you don’t know this — each country has a distinctive cursive, and my cursive changed with time. now it’s caught in an unholy land between Portuguese script — a lot like old German — and American Script. Not only does it remain the same insane scribbling hand I always had, but now there’s not guarantee of any given letter being rendered the same twice. (If you ever compare my signatures, you will see.) This means I often take notes while reading a book and then sweat trying to interpret what I wrote. This without the charming spelling issues which were always bad and are now worse.)

Most of it is, as it should be, family stuff and a lot about how much he misses mom. Some is world affairs, and I’m afraid being a wretched creature I’m going to have to answer those. Oh, he’s mostly worried not combative, but–

This is in a way an attempt at explaining what happened between Europe and America and why it’s much worse now than it’s ever been.

First, guys, since most of you are born and raised in the US you need an explanation dad probably doesn’t require. It’s like this:

Europe never loved us. Some Europeans did but those of us who did were always an odd bunch and this put us at odds with all other Europeans. They tolerated and encouraged the Soviet Union in the hopes it would “Show up America.”

If I had to guess, since I wasn’t around two hundred and fifty years ago, it started with the certainty that the republic would fail, since it negated the forever European way of living, then moved on to being upset we didn’t. And the fact we saved their asses twice didn’t help at all.

As Heinlein says in Stranger, all “thank you” implies some amount of resentment. Okay, I’m not sure that’s true, because it’s not what I experience. Mostly from me all thank yous involve some number of confusion and fear of trespassing.

But I think the difference is that I was taught how to accept help/charity BY HEINLEIN. I’m not so much accepting help/charity, as I’m taking what I need right then, and it flows outward again when other people are in need. So I’m just borrowing, and pay it forward.

And therein lies the rub. Our intervention in the long war of the 20th century was never paid forward by Europe. it just didn’t happen. In fact it just couldn’t happen, since Europe took the long wars as their signal to go on a self-hating spiral of self destruction.

(I’m not sure how much of that spiral was native and how much was USSR propaganda. Someday maybe we’ll figure out how much cognitive pollution the USSR put into the world, including destroying our own academia and a lot of our political thought. The entire anti-colonial boondoggle is something that the Europeans hold against us — the ones that realize what a disaster it was on both sides — but we were on it because of the extreme lefty academics and air-dreamers were trying to let the USSR grab lands without resistance. Most colonies Europe left were immediately taken over by the USSR de facto if not de Jure.)

On top of which, they outsourced their culture and the production of cultural product to the US. Look, that’s not what they meant to do, you know? they were subsidizing their film and novel production, to make sure the “worthy art” got all the money it needed. I mean, they got enough trash from the US, right. Except that in fact “trash” is what people read and watch. See, for instance, Shakespeare, who wrote plays for apprentices and groundlings. While the promoted art of the cognoscenti goes nowhere. So the result of European governments paying for the “approved art” was to make the only art people watch and read American. (Reading in Europe has been plummeting, in commensurate response to their getting as their only offerings from America the precious darlings of trad pub. Different for those countries to whom Kindle is readily available, but there again… There’s culture. More on that later.) And the problem is the culture they’re getting from us is what Hollywood is selling, which they take deadly serious as “modern” and “advanced” leading to far greater destruction there than here.

This again feeds a hatred of America and a wish to see us stumble.

But until recently, they largely kept their mouths shut where Americans could hear. Oh, sure, their news imputed all the worst vices to us, and generally blamed us for their problems, etc, and also gave them an idea of how we live that meant we had much fun online with Europeans who thought we shoot each other in the streets and also that we’re like Latin America where you’re either very rich or destitute. (This is vital, because the only way their elites can keep hold of the populace in their neo-feudal soft socialism is to project the horrors of what they think naked capitalism would be onto us, and then drive them to think we live in some kind of Dickensonian horror, compared to which their managed decline seems like paradise.)

However it used to be that Europe knew which side of their bread was buttered and that the US has — pardon me the graphic nature of this — a mighty generous tit on which to suckle.

They have now lost what remained of their tiny little minds, and I believe I can explain it.

First of all, they’re completely broken over 2020. At some level they have to know it was all a hoax, and they were not even — as I yelled at mom when she tried ordering me to take the vaccine — the main aim of the hoax. The aim was to steal US elections. Terrorizing Europeans was just stage dressing.

But oooh, boy, were they terrorized. Not even the crazier state in the US locked down as fast, as hard, as long or as stupidly as Europe did. And they had a ridiculously high buy in to the dangerous vaccines, too.

At some level they know they were hoaxed, but they can’t process how their old mechanism of trusting the authorities and the “best people” so they have a lot of free floating anger which their media and reporting is encouraging them to attach to us.

Okay, this is the part that I need to explain to my dad: the media over there really has them utterly convinced that we are repeating fascism.

This is partly their hatred of Trump whom their elites hate because our elites hate him, and how bad a person do you have to be even those American know nothings hate you? And partly that they absolutely believe that our media is absolutely truthful, when our media has also lost its tiny flipping minds and is now reporting completely imaginary stuff.

Partly though is that they absolutely believe that history repeats itself and have been on the lookout for Hitler anywhere a shred of patriotism remains, because patriotism causes Hitler. (DUH. That’s what they were taught in school. DUH.) And of course keep fitting the little they know onto this model.

The thing is the model they were taught in school was not how to find Hitler, but how to find anything that was antithetical to the USSR swallowing them whole. So sure signs of Hitler are: a strong military. Patriotism. Any reduction in social net spending. Self sufficiency or the encouragement thereof. Etc. etc. etc.

And in that light, we look terrible.

They also believe our country is convulsing itself with people trying to fight Trump. That ICE really is deporting anyone who tans. And other fantasies. Which is even more Hitlery.

AND the crowning thing in all this: They haven’t embraced the digital revolution as much as Americans have.

Oh, don’t get me wrong: Everyone has a cell phone. But political blogs are rare and for reasons that evade me, so are groups where people from all over just gather.

I KNOW my dad is going to ask me how I know that the rest of the country isn’t in revolt against Trump, that it’s just Minnesota.

And I’m going to answer that throughout most of the weekday I hang out with my writing group, which is spread out all over the US (and a couple from Canada/Japan.) SO I know. I know that in most cities the actual “resistance” is a dozen boomers with walkers and oxygen tanks.

Because between the work from home, and our just swimming in the digital sea, we all know people all over the country and can verify reports and rumors. (EXCEPT aged boomers of course.)

Which is a divide with Europe that I don’t understand and can’t explain.

But it contributes to their worry for us and their certainty we’re about to fall to Hitler2, this time it’s Orange.

And we have no way to reach them, because it would take explaining all this stuff.

It’s not just that they’re watching a different movie. It’s that someone has locked the theater doors and keeps amping up the sound, till they only see what they’re shown.

This will end in tears.

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

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

I WASN’T GOING TO REPEAT THIS WARNING, BUT OBVIOUSLY I HAVE TO:
OKAY, PLEASE LISTEN: THIS IS STATED ABOVE, BUT AGAIN: ALL I NEED FROM YOU IF YOU WANT YOUR BOOK PROMOTED IS A LINK TO AMAZON. Please, for the love of all gods and fishes and all the birds in the sea, DO NOT SEND ME THE BOOK, THE COVER, THE BLURB, OR WORSE YOUR ENTIRE LIFE STORY. I get a ton of spam on that email because it’s here every week. PLEASE don’t make me read five pages to figure out if you’re someone sending me a link or a spam bot. If you’re afraid the link might not work, you can also send me your name and the book title with the link. That’s acceptable too. BUT DON’T SEND ME THE UNABRIDGED WORKS OF TOLSTOY WITH THE LINK AT THE END.
I’ve had about enough so this is the new policy: IF YOU MAKE ME WORK TOO HARD, I’LL REPLACE YOUR BOOK COVER WITH A PICTURE OF A CAT GIRL. MEOW AND SHAME OR SOMETHING – SAH

FROM ARI H. MENDELSON: Consent (Kingmaker)

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Tech billionaire Jerry Neville holds the key to a groundbreaking technology capable of manipulating anyone’s decisions. However, Neville’s Chinese backers demand perfection, threatening dire consequences unless the flaws are fixed.

Targeted for artificial seduction by Neville’s algorithm is Hollywood actress Meghan Peters.

Meanwhile, a group of independent journalists rises to expose the truth in a world where even our thoughts can be controlled.

Lying in wait for the crusading reporters is Mei Hua Chang, a Chinese spy whose beauty and charm are matched only by her cunning.

In Consent, prepare to be captivated by relentless action, nerve-wracking suspense, and a profound examination of power and persuasion.

FROM NATHAN C. BRINDLE: The Reason (Timelines Universe Book 1)

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January 1993. Somalia. Operation Restore Hope. A Marine platoon pulling a security patrol runs into an insurgent ambush in Mogadishu, and when the platoon commander winds up unconscious from a blow to the head taken when an IED rolls his command Humvee, and the First Sergeant is killed as soon as he exits his vehicle, command falls to a badly wounded gunnery sergeant — initially trapped in the same vehicle with his platoon commander and their driver, but conscious and alert and ready to bring some personal hell down on the RIFs…if he can just get out of this damn vehicle, grab a rifle, and drag himself and his busted-up, non-working leg over to a firing point without bleeding out. June 1993. Washington, DC. A First Lieutenant with a freshly-healed scar on his head encounters a beautiful redheaded floor nurse at Bethesda Naval Hospital. He’s there to see his Gunny, who’s been stuck in the hospital with a broken femur since he was transported home in February. He’s the platoon commander who was knocked hors de combat by the IED, and he’s been sent to find out why his Gunny is obstinately refusing to accept an important decoration for his participation in the incident. Turns out that’s going to be quite a job, because Gunny’s got his reason. Will the Lieutenant, and his ally the nurse, be able to convince his Gunny there’s a better reason to accept the decoration? Might be they’ll need a little help from a friend…

FROM M. LEE MOORE: Logan Mitchell and the Earthrise Light

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As Logan Mitchell counts down the days to his dad’s Christmas return from the Asteroid Belt, an illness begins spreading among the newest arrivals to the Mars colony. With tensions rising and people falling ill, Logan and his friends must step in to support the struggling families, while bringing the community closer together than ever before.

Logan Mitchell and the Earthrise Light is a heartfelt sci-fi adventure about bravery, belonging, and the power of community when it matters most.

FROM EDWARD WILLET: The Haunted Horn

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Perfect for fans of R.L. Stine and John Bellairs: a spine-tingling mix of schoolyard showdowns, family drama, and Civil War ghosts that will keep you up past lights-out!

On a disastrous Friday in Oak Bluff, Arkansas, brainy eighth-grader Alex Mitchell buys a battered old Civil War bugle at a dusty auction—and his luck goes from bad to worse. School bully Sammy Findlater wants it for his “trophy” collection, and standing up to Sammy (and his hulking gang) means bruises, dead animals in lockers, and a garbage-splattered chase through town.

But when Alex blows the tarnished horn, something even more frightening stirs. Chilling midnight marches echo down his alley, ghostly Confederate soldiers trample the town square, and a wide-eyed boy in a ragged gray uniform stares up at his window, whispering, “I’m going home.”

As the anniversary of the Civil War Battle of Oak Bluff nears, the spirits grow dangerously solid: campfires scorch grass, cannons uproot from concrete, and downtown teeters on fiery ruin.

With bullies on his tail and a supernatural showdown brewing, Alex must team up with tough-as-nails Annie Parker to unravel the mystery. Can he summon the courage to sound the bugle at the right moment and lay the ghosts to rest—or will history repeat itself in a terrifying clash that destroys everything?

FROM MARY CATELLI: Madeleine and the Mists

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Enchanted pools, shadowy dragons, wolves that spring from the mists and vanish into them again, paths that are longer, or shorter, than they should be, given where they went. . . the Misty Hills were filled with marvels. Madeleine still left the hills, years ago, to marry against her father’s will. If her husband’s family is less than welcoming, she still is glad she married him, and they have a son, two years old. But her husband’s overlord has fallen afoul of the king. And all his men fall with him, including her husband. She sets out, to seek the queen and try to bypass the king — and the Misty Hills. Some things are not so easily evaded.

J. KENTON PIERCE: The Warlord of Greenline Town (Tales From the Long Night Book 2)

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In the ruins of Hesperides Colony, scarred by volcanic winters and orbital threats, Captain Ravati Aziz safeguards underground Greenline Town. A veteran trooper turned cop, she balances family with bondmates and kids amid a corrupt town council, brutal Blackcheek gangs, and nomadic Pridesmen driving herds through deadly badlands.

When a notorious homesteader unearths a crashed starship packed with lost tech and comes to Greenline looking for help, Ravati volunteers, knowing what’s at stake.As vanished Gentle Walkers return with secrets and politicians scheme for power, Ravati allies with warriors and scholars to defend her home.

In a brutal world of hard choices, can she stop Greenline’s slide into tyranny?

FROM ERIC THOMSON: No Honor in Death (Siobhan Dunmoore Book 1)

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Siobhan Dunmoore was losing the war one ship at a time. The Shrehari Empire had burned more hulls out from under her than any other officer in the Fleet. Some said she was too aggressive. Others said too reckless. The enemy called her something else—something they spat with fear. None of it mattered. Not all her enemies wore Imperial uniforms. And the only reputation she had left was for bad luck.

She was dragging another wreck home, crew half‑dead, systems failing. This time she’d bluffed her way out by the skin of her teeth. She wanted rest. The Admiralty wanted her back in the fight.

They gave her Stingray. The Fleet’s cursed frigate. Captain disgraced, crew broken, ship rotting. The last of her kind still limping through the war. Admirals whispered about scrapping her, breaking up the jinx. But the war was bleeding ships, and anything that could still fire had to fight.

So Dunmoore went from staring down the Empire’s finest on a battleship’s burning bridge to commanding a crew ready to mutiny, admirals sharpening knives, and a mystery that stank of death. Stingray’s curse wasn’t just sailor’s talk. Something was wrong. The crew kept their mouths shut. Politics pressed in. Her own demons clawed at her.

Taking that frigate into battle was suicide. But Dunmoore had never walked away from a fight. Failure wasn’t an option. Defeat wasn’t acceptable. Death was just a hole in the ground. Victory was the only honor left. She’d drag Stingray back from hell—or go down damned forever.

BY EDMOND HAMILTON, REVIVED BY D. JASON FLEMING: The Complete Interstellar Patrol (Annotated): A pulp space opera omnibus

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In 1928, Edmond Hamilton published Crashing Suns in Weird Tales magazine, at approximately the same time that E.E. Smith’s Skylark of Space was published in Amazing Stories, giving both men the distinction of creating the genre of space opera. Hamilton, however, was the first to create a series, writing further stories in his Interstellar Patrol Series in 1929 and 1930, then writing a final one in 1934.

Here in one volume is every Interstellar Patrol story Hamilton published, including the novel Outside the Universe. What the stories lack in characterization and scientific plausibility, they more than make up for in enthusiasm, spectacle, and sheer breakneck pacing.

  • This iktaPOP Media omnibus includes new introductions that give the stories genre and historical context.

FROM DALE COZORT: The Best of Space Bats & Butterflies – Book Two

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Space Bats & Butterflies Book Two is another eclectic collection of the best alternate history or time-travel stories, book excerpts, essays and world-building exercises from the ninety-plus issues of a long-running Alternate History zine.
• Part Two of a two-part book-length alternate World War II scenario-The Moscow Option-1942.
• The Interrupted Trajectory: Indians without the Old World.
• Could you save the Incas from Spanish conquest?
• American Revolution: Britain Keeps the Deep South
• D-Day Landings Fail.
Fiction stories and excerpts:
• World War II Germany invades a divided alternate history US that still uses black powder muskets.
• Bootleggers from the 1920s invade a far-future sanctuary for massacre victims.
• Modern US collides with an alternate reality full of deadly animals.
• Tasmanian Wolves are supposed to be extinct. What is one doing in a Illinois cornfield?
• An ageless, vastly intelligent dog holds the secrets to immortality. Can he survive long enough to give it to humanity?

FROM HOLLY CHISM: The Schrödinger Paradox: Cataclysm

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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 MACKEY CHANDLER: Fair Trade: An Alien Invasion Story

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Most of my writing is in a series people seem to enjoy but there is a constant small crowd who say: I’d really like your take on an alien invasion story. Well this is for them. The bulk of the aliens come to Earth stories assume their vast superiority, sometimes invincibility. Sometimes they suddenly appear on the white house lawn dictating terms. I have yet to see one with them appearing at the Kremlin or Canberra which seems rather parochial. Other times they are so advanced they quarantine the Earth or Solar System without discussion because we are such barbarian slime-balls. They may alternately be impossible to talk to and attack without mercy. All these assume they come with a plan and the means to carry it out. Our own age of exploration showed things happen much less orderly. Islands and natives were happened upon while seeking someplace else or even because a storm or miscalculation left the ship lost. In that case there is no plan but survival with the assets at hand. As with any game remember that turnabout is fair play.

FROM KAREN MYERS: The Chained Adept: A Lost Wizard’s Tale

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MEET A POWERFUL WIZARD WITH UNANSWERED QUESTIONS–AND AN UNBREAKABLE CHAIN AROUND HER NECK.

Have you ever wondered how you might rise to a dangerous situation and become the hero that was needed?

The wizard Penrys has barely gained her footing in the country where she was found three years ago, chained around the neck and wiped of all knowledge. And now, an ill-planned experiment has sent her a quarter of the way around her world.

One magic working has called to another and landed Penrys in the middle of an ugly war between neighboring countries, half a world away.

No one has any reason to trust her amid rumors of wizards where they don’t belong. And she fears to let them know just what she can do — especially since she can’t explain herself to them and she doesn’t know everything about herself either.

Penrys has her own problems, and she doesn’t have any place in this conflict. But they need her, whether they realize it or not. And so she’s determined to try and lend a hand, if she can. Whatever it takes.

And once she discovers there’s another chained adept, even stronger than she is, she’s hooked. Friend or foe, she has questions for him — oh, yes, she does.

All she wants is a firm foundation for the rest of her life, with a side helping of retribution, and if she has to fix things along the way, well, so be it.

The Chained Adept is the first book of the series.

FROM A. PALMER: Wonder: Sermons From a Servant

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After Trouble, after Hope, there is Wonder.

God brings people through many stages in life, and as before, these poems describe mine. I offer them humbly, in case anyone else out there feels the way I do.

BY J. D. COOPER: Lessons

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The “lessons” herein are meant to answer real-world questions asked of the author in his busy suburban pediatric practice. There are more fatherless teenagers than can be counted. Almost daily, young men and women who desperately want someone to guide them, teach them, and love them unconditionally, ask questions about how to “adult.”
This book is overtly Christian. There are no apologies for that, but the reader has the right to not be blindsided. You have been warned. It is real-world gritty. Trauma happens, and it is the job of human beings who love their fellow man to rescue the broken. This book discusses delicate topics like sex, puberty, and teenage hormones. There are also lessons on aspects of manhood like courage, hard work, and commitment. Finally, this story is emotional. We hide who we are from each other. Still, on occasion, the author gets to peek behind the curtain and sees the loneliness and desperation of teenagers who just want to be loved.
Love them. Love them all.

FROM DEX QUIRE: The Transformations, a Tale of Modern Sin

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That meme or pop-up or spam – you know the one – it’s everywhere on the internet. It urges men to enlarge a certain body part. But really – who or what kind of man would buy into that nonsense? The narrator of “The Transformations,” for one. He applies Onan’s Enlarging Ointment to himself and promptly turns into a donkey. Our foolish narrator is then raked across a pile of intriguing and entertaining encounters including lockdown at the zoo, bizarre sex, friendship with a drunken elephant, eco-terrorism, semi-slavery by pious religious communards, sea voyages, depraved tourists, drug pirates and other magically or demonically inspired bi-peds. The novel is an obvious homage to Apuleius’ “the Golden Ass” while offering a modern, magical realist update in vivacious and witty prose. Blue Guitar Press invites you to enjoy Dex Quire’s world of wonders and transformations.

FROM SARAH A. HOYT: No Man’s Land: Volume 1 (Chronicles of Lost Elly)

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On a lost colony world, mad geneticists thought they could eliminate inequality by making everyone hermaphrodite. They were wrong. Catastrophically wrong.
Now technology indistinguishable from magic courses through the veins of the inhabitants, making their barbaric civilization survivable—and Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus Kayel Hayden, Viscount Webson, Envoy of the Star Empire—Skip to his friends— has just crash-landed through a time-space rift into the middle of it all.
Dodging assassins and plummeting from high windows was just the beginning. With a desperate king and an archmagician as his only allies, Scipio must outrun death itself while battling beasts, traitors, and infiltrators bent on finishing what the founders started: total destruction.
Two worlds. One chance. No time to lose.

Volume 1
The Ambassador Corps has rules: you cannot know everything, don’t get horizontal with the natives, don’t make promises you can’t keep.
They’re a lot harder to follow when assassins are hunting you, your barbarian allies could kill you for the wrong word, and death lurks around every corner.
The unwritten rule? Never identify with the natives.
Skip’s already broken that one.
Now he’s racing against time to save his new friends from slavery—or worse—while dodging energy blasts and political intrigue. One crash-landed diplomat. A world of deadly secrets. And absolutely no backup.

Some rules are meant to be broken. Others will get you killed.

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: COPPER

It’s January 16 Do You Know Where Your Year is?

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This image is a misnomer, of course, because the year of the Fire Horse (also the Red Horse. Uh) doesn’t start until end of February, but a wooden snake is not nearly so amusing, and besides I have this theory that in our fast-communication world the avatars for the Chinese years got confused and started reigning (in this case perhaps raging would be more appropriate) when the Western New Year starts.

It sure would explain — as much as anything can — what happened starting Jan 1 — well, Jan 7, but you know — when the year came in like a horse. A horse that’s on fire. (But…. it’s on FIRE.)

I mean, it’s not just the fact that in the dead of night we removed a dictator from his bed and brought him to the Us to be held accountable. That’s amazing, yes, but there’s so much more going on. No, it’s not just Tim Walz being Timwalzed and doing his best imitation of Temu Jefferson Davis — or as someone put it “If Jefferson Davis and Liberace had a baby.”

There’s Iran, which is rebelling. It’s been quiet recently, and I think the rebellion is in the process of being subdued, and I’m hoping we don’t allow that. It’s the kind of edge of the seat thing that is keeping me awake at night. (If you’re the praying sort pray for Iran.)

And then there’s… good Lord, this year has been everything all the time. Like, we have finally made a food pyramid that makes sense, not one designed by people who thought Diet For A Small Planet (i.e. we’ve got to stop eating meat, because the population is exploding) made any sense. And we did away with two thirds of early childhood vaccination.

In a normal year those two things alone would have been news enough for six months of argument in the newspapers. I mean, you might think the food pyramid is just a recommendation, but it informs all the federal food aid, plus feeding of the troops, food in schools, all of that. It has a profound impact. But…. this year.

The US withdrew from 66 global organizations.

In a normal year the left would be wailing about our leaving such vital organizations like:
1) 24/7 Carbon-Free Energy Compact

2) Colombo Plan Council

3) Commission for Environmental Cooperation

4) Education Cannot Wait

5) European Centre of Excellence for Countering Hybrid Threats

6) Forum of European National Highway Research Laboratories

7) Freedom Online Coalition

8) Global Community Engagement and Resilience Fund

And such vital UN organization as:

9) Peacebuilding Commission

50) Peacebuilding Fund

51) Permanent Forum on People of African Descent

52) U.N. Alliance of Civilizations

53) U.N. Collaborative Programme on Reducing Emissions from Deforestation and Forest Degradation in Developing Countries

54) U.N. Conference on Trade and Development

55) U.N. Democracy Fund

56) U.N. Energy

57) U.N. Entity for Gender Equality and the Empowerment of Women

58) U.N. Framework Convention on Climate Change

59) U.N. Human Settlements Programme

But this year? This year it’s not even registering. They haven’t even started a scream that Israel withdrew from those right after we did.

Meanwhile abroad: Syria working with Israel on security. Israel recognizing Somaliland. Somalia being removed from the nations eligible for refugee status in the USA.

Also, apparently, some number of nations are no longer eligible for visas to the US.

And– And– And– Oh, yeah, stuff is being done to curb fraud and clean voters’ rolls, though I’m sure it’s not enough, and I wish it were fast and more strict. OTOH considering how much they depend on fraud, just removing some avenues might help.

Of course there’s already been sad events too, like Scott Adams’ death. Soemthing else that would take at least a month of news, any other year.

And I’m sure I’m forgetting half a dozen things that rocked my world when they came across the screen. It’s that type of year, apparently, it’s been at least a year since Jan 1st.

So — as a community service, I’m laying down a challenge: What do you have on your bingo card for this year?

Things I’m hoping for –

freedom for Iran

the fall of communism in China.

Things I wouldn’t be surprised if they happened:

The collapse and political rebuilding of the rest of the Americas

The discovery and IMPLEMENTATION of life extension technology.

Things that might rate a raised eyebrow:

The EU breaking apart in a fit of sanity
Atlantis raising from the sea.

Deej kindly contributed some for that last category:

“Elon reveals the colony he’s already established on Mars.”

“Grok copied Scott Adams’s brain pattern, and will be making Dilbert strips for the foreseeable future.”

Now, your turn. Hear those hoof beats? The year commeth like a raging fire horse. (Or perhaps a raging zebra.)

What’s in your bingo card?