Jesse James & the Secret Legend of Captain Coytus by Alex Mueck @AlexMueck #Humor #Historical

The next request was one that he’d personally slipped in. He’d been working on a melody, and suddenly the lyrics had come to him.

The stranger waved down the saloon’s appreciative volume. “In the spirit of humorous songs, next comes a request I’m only vaguely familiar with. I’ll do my best.” He looked down at the paper. “It’s an anonymous dedication. It’s called, ‘Oh Susanna,’ except in this version there’s no ‘banjo on my knee.’”

“Oh, Susanna, forgive me please,

Did I mention I have sexual diseases?

You’re so pretty, and I was drunk.

I’m just a redneck scalawag punk.

Oh, which diseases you may ask?

There are many; the list is vast:

Syphilis, gonorrhea, and the clap.

If only I had my willy wrapped.”

The stranger was quick to notice a hush come over the bar. Some people still clapped along, but most squinted in puzzlement. Apparently, talk like “hanging Negroes” was perfectly acceptable discourse, but public sexual commentary was not.

He took stock of those he’d met. The sheriff retreated to the corner, and there, he poorly faked his prior comatose state. His wife was amused, and her hand did little to stifle giggles. Little Archie sat stoically. Flabbergasted, Edwards twiddled his mustache. Frank number-one-fan James was whooping it up good—all limbs in motion.

Susanna radiantly stood out amongst all. Like a cat, her green eyes appeared to casually take everything in. Her lithe body was at ease but in a blink of an eye, ready to pounce. Her blank expression tried to portray disinterest. Still, the stranger could read the emotions behind her mask. She was both scared and amused, but the small bat of an eye and nod of the head suggested she was also flattered.

Badger Bob was also an easy read. He was trying to act as if the words had no meaning to him, but the pursed lips, determined jaw, and steely gaze suggested otherwise. It was like he was afflicted with a fierce gastro anomaly but trying to be a gentleman about it.

The stranger strummed his way to the second verse.

“Oh, Susanna, forgive me please.

Did I mention I have sexual diseases?

You’re so pretty, your body so firm.

I’m the man with viral sperm.

Oh, which symptoms you may ask?

There are many; the list is vast:

Crabs, cankers, and scaly warts.

An ax should make me eunuch short.

“Probably already is.” (Laughter.)

“Oh, Susanna, forgive me please.

Did I mention I have sexual diseases?

You have nice curves, I love your shape.

I’m a loser who’s forced to rape.

Oh, how could he, thou wonder why?

I beat on girls; check your black eye.

I’m no gentleman, just a scofflaw slob,

Or better known as Badger Bob.”

At the song’s conclusion, there was a smattering of applause, unheard whispers, and a few raucous cheers from Frank James. When it died down, Badger Bob rose to his feet, took two steps toward the stranger, pointed, and barked, “Let’s take this outside.”

"“A historical fiction comedy that packs
as much heart as humor.”
—Michael Dadich, award-winning author of The Silver Sphere

When a Harvard history professor receives a thesis paper titled Jesse James and the Secret Legend of Captain Coytus, from Ulysses Hercules Baxter—an underwhelming student—he assumes the paper must be a prank. He has never read such maniacal balderdash in his life. But after he calls a meeting with the student, Professor Gladstone is dismayed when Baxter declares the work is his own. As he takes a very unwilling Professor Gladstone back in time via his thesis, Baxter’s grade hangs in the balance as he attempts to prove his theory.

It is 1864 as philanderer and crusader Captain Coytus embarks on a mission to avenge his father’s death and infiltrates the Confederate Bushwacker posse looking for the man responsible, Jesse Woodson James. Accompanied by the woman of his dreams, Coytus soon finds himself temporarily appointed to be the sheriff of Booneville and commissions his less-than-loyal deputy to help him carry out his plan.

But when tragedy strikes, the Captain is forced to change his immature ways and redefine his lofty mission—more or less."

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Genre - Humor, Historical Fiction

Rating – R

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The Three Sisters by Bryan Taylor #Excerpt #Humor #AmReading

One of our goals in Catholic School was to save the Pagan Babies. For only five dollars, which seemed like a pretty good deal to me, we could get a Pagan Baby baptized and sent to heaven. They even showed us short movies of Catholic missionaries in Africa baptizing the Pagan babies to spur us on. We could buy a saint stamp for ten cents to paste in a book, and when the book was full, we could redeem the book for a Pagan Baby, whom we could name on our Pagan Baby Adoption Certificate. When we were first told about this opportunity, I rushed home to my parents and said, “Guess what, I’m going to have a baby, and she’s black,” which would have given my dad multiple heart attacks were it not for the biological impossibility of my statement at that tender age.

These Catholic equivalents to S&H Green Stamps prepared us for the future because they taught us how to buy on the installment plan. I asked our teacher if our book were half full, if we could we redeem it for half a Pagan Baby, but she said no, so there was always a rush to fill the book before the Pagan Baby Awards Day ceremony. There was a poster with Jesus in a pastoral scene at the front of the classroom and every time someone adopted a Pagan Baby, we got to add a child to the poster. By the end of the school year, Jesus had become the most prolific father in history.

In a way I thought the pagans were lucky. They automatically went to limbo and didn’t risk going to Hell until the missionaries baptized them. I could just imagine tribes fleeing the missionaries to make sure they kept their spot reserved in limbo. When my mother told me that our dog had gone to “doggie heaven,” I wondered whether unbaptized pagan dogs went to “doggie limbo.”

After realizing that once the Pagan Babies were baptized, they too would need a Catechism to guide them along the straight and narrow path, I wrote K’s Catechism for Cannibals in perfect Palmer Method penmanship, providing dozens of important questions and answers as well as prayers written just for the pagan cannibals.

Q: Is it better to cook a Virgin Martyr or a Heretic?

A: It is better to cook a Virgin Martyr than a Heretic because the Virgin Martyr is sweeter to the palate and the meat is softer to cook than that of a Heretic.

Q: Should a converted Cannibal woman continue to walk around topless?

A: A converted Cannibal should continue to walk around topless because Priests are celibate and will not be tempted.

I even provided the cannibals with a prayer to say before each meal.

Our Martyr, who hath been cooked, blessed be thy meat. Thy flesh be done, so thy sweet taste will fill us when we eat.

I sold my literary creation to my fellow students for a dime and then contributed all my earnings to converting the Pagan Babies in Africa. Despite my altruistic intentions, when the sisters got a copy of my addition to the canon, they imposed an excessive number of penances on me. The nun who imposed the greatest guilt and fear in us was Sister Mary Margaret whom we referred to as Attilla the Nun because she behaved more like a four-foot, ten-inch tall Auschwitz prison matron than a Sister of Mercy. 

Some students were convinced that not only did she have eyes in the back of her head, but that the Blessed Virgin Mary had endowed her with the ability to see through walls and read our minds. It was rumored that she made extra money in the summer by training Marine Drill Sergeants, and we had no doubt that she gave every penny she made to the church. We joked that Satan would rather do battle with the Archangel Gabriel than Sister Mary Margaret because at least Satan had a chance with Gabriel. Even K watched her step around Attila the Nun.

Nuns just want to have fun! But when three former Catholic nuns have too much fun and get in trouble with the law, they become nuns on the run.

Driving back to Washington D.C. where they work at the Kennedy Center for the Performing Parts, the three sisters are arrested in Tennessee. After defeating the local deputy in strip poker, they escape from jail, and are pursued by the zealous Detective Schmuck Hole, who has personally offered a $10,000 reward for their capture on The 700 Club. Little do they know that when the three sisters visit the Washington Monument, their lives will change forever.

Set in 1979, The Three Sisters is a sacrilegious satire that skewers not only organized religion, but the government, the media, intellectuals, corporate greed and every other part of the establishment. Maybe not the greatest story ever told, but possibly the funniest.

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Genre – Humor, Satire, Catholicism, Politics

Rating – R

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Website www.threesistersnovel.com

Lethal Journey by Kim Cresswell @kimcresswell

Chapter Three

Detective Eric Brennan sat at his usual table and sipped the night’s beverage of choice—a cola. In Chunkers Bar and Grill loud pointless chatter overpowered the ‘80s rock and roll band on stage.

The last week was a blur. Every waking hour he pounded the streets in search of his father’s killer.

Eric knew every detail of the shooters face, but not the kid’s name. He’d heard from one of his informant’s, the kid was a young tough-guy looking to be made—a “cugine” ready to make his mark into New York’s most influential crime network, the Valdina family. As part of his induction into the mob family, the asshole had already killed a low-life rival family member and Eric and his father were working the homicide case when they got a tip.

That steamy June evening had started like any typical bust. Within minutes after Eric and his father arrived at the warehouse, dozens of DEA agents secured the perimeter. Eric entered the warehouse first, his father followed. Amid the stench of mildew and dust, the first pop of an automatic echoed within the barren walls.

They were ambushed.

His father, a veteran with twenty-three years on the force never saw the shots coming. Eric threw his body against his father in hopes of shielding him. It was too late. Instead Eric witnessed his father’s face, the sickening whitish blue tint that came with death...

While Pete checked in with the precinct, Eric shifted in the chair. His left knee still burned where the bullet had grazed his leg. He rubbed the scar, a permanent reminder of a drug bust gone bad. Very bad.

“Hey, Brennan.” Pete threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table and downed the last swallow of his beer. “Come on. I think we got a lead.”

Outside on West 35th Street, a full moon peeked through the clouds. Jagged streaks of lightning ignited the sky as rain sprinkled against Eric’s leather jacket. He lit a cigarette and leaned against his white pick-up truck parked in front of Chunkers.

Pete smirked. “Man, I thought you quit.”

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Genre – Thriller

Rating – PG-18

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Connect with Kim Cresswell on Facebook and Twitter

Website http://kimberleycresswell.wordpress.com/

Quality Reads UK Book Club Disclosure: Author interview / guest post has been submitted by the author and previously used on other sites.

The Secret of the Sacred Scarab by Fiona Ingram @FionaRobyn

A 5000-year-old mystery comes to life when a scruffy peddler gives Adam and Justin Sinclair an old Egyptian scarab on their very first day in Egypt. Only when the evil Dr. Faisal Khalid shows a particular interest in the cousins and their scarab, do the boys realise they are in terrible danger. Dr. Khalid wants the relic at all costs.

Justin and Adam embark upon the adventure of a lifetime, taking them down the Nile and across the harsh desert in their search for the legendary tomb of the Scarab King, an ancient Egyptian ruler. They are plunged into a whirlpool of hazardous and mysterious events when Dr. Khalid kidnaps them. They survive terrifying dangers in a hostile environment (such as a giant cobra and sinking sand), pursued by enemies in their quest to solve the secret of the sacred scarab. They must translate the hieroglyphic clues on the underside of the scarab, as well as rescue the missing archaeologist James Kinnaird, and their friend, the Egyptologist Ebrahim Faza, before time runs out. They must also learn more about the ancient Seven Stones of Power and the mysterious Shemsu-Hor.

With just their wits, courage, and each other, the boys manage to survive … only to find that the end of one journey is the beginning of another!

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Genre – Juvenile Fiction

Rating – G

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ABC: A Mini Monster Alphabet #Book by Tom Skinner @PictureBookTom #reviewshare #bookclub

ABC: A Mini Monster Alphabet Book for Young and Old by Tom Skinner
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I like the idea of this book but even when reading with my grandchildren, none of us were overly excited about it. As the author suggests in his description, the monsters are not scary and we had a fun time exploring the meaning of the words he used for each rhyme.

My favorite mini monster was "G - Gazar" because she was adorable and the author made her stand out to me because he used the word generous. Any child who uses this book to improve their vocabulary will definitely succeed.

The colored pictures are able to engage a child but I felt that the text wasn't able to do the same. Repetition in rhymes does not always work and when you are dealing with an active 5 year old, this book isn't exactly going to capture his attention.

Good attempt which I recommend for children aged 3 and up. Younger ones may feel intimidated by the monsters. I also think if this book were more interactive in the form of an audio book, I think younger children will be swarming over this book like bees to honey.

Disclosure - As a Quality Reads Book Club member, I received a free copy of this book from the author via Orangeberry Book Tours in exchange for my honest review.


View all my reviews

The Soul of the World by Joshua Silverman @jg_silverman #amreading #scifi #fantasy

The ancient powers lost to Potara have returned. The Brotherhood of the Black Rose rises to bring Thoth into disorder. And, while the Brotherhood reclaims their power, chaos reigns among the survivors. Six individuals have emerged from the aftermath struggling for control over their lives and a divided land. 

Kem and Shirin, who abolished the five thousand year reign of the Amun Priests, rule from the golden throne of the Oracle’s Chair in the Hall of the Nine. Dio and Axios struggle to piece together a resistance worthy to challenge the ancient magic which resides in the Great Temple of Amun, and Leoros and Atlantia try to remain true to their hearts and their cause despite tragedy.

But when the Book of Breathings is discovered, the path to immortality is revealed. Leoros and Kem race to capture the Soul of the World unaware of the challenges awaiting them. This time, the gods themselves will intervene. 

In a tale where boys become men and girls become women, where treachery and deception are around every corner, and where primeval mysticism finds its way back from the grave, victory is reserved for neither the good nor the evil, but the powerful.

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Genre – Science fiction, Fantasy

Rating – PG-13+

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Website www.legendsofamunra.com; www.joshuagsilverman.com

The Christmas Cowboy by Shanna Hatfield @ShannaHatfield #thechristmascowboy

Tate surprises Kenzie by showing up on her doorstep late one afternoon… Standing on her front step, he rang the bell and listened to her footsteps hurrying toward the door. The smile on her face forced him to catch his breath.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Kenzie asked, kissing his cheek then stepping aside so he could come in out of the cold.

Curiosity got the best of her when he stood staring at her, his good hand still behind his back. Trying to look around him, he turned so she couldn’t.

“What are you hiding?” she asked, her eyes warm and inviting when he stepped inside and nudged the door shut behind him with his boot.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’re missing a very important component of proper Christmas décor,” Tate said, sounding all knowing and official.

“What could I possibly be missing?” Kenzie asked, looking behind her and sweeping her arm toward the living room that did look particularly festive, thanks in part to Tate. “I’ve got a poinsettia, a beautiful Christmas tree, garlands, pine boughs, sugary treats, and a blazing fire. Did you bring me some chestnuts to roast? If you did, I’ve got no clue what to do with them, so you’re out of luck.”

Laughing, Tate raised his arm and held a bunch of mistletoe over their heads. “It seems to me this is the most important decoration of all.”

“Possibly,” Kenzie said, reaching out and looping her arms around Tate’s neck, pulling his head down to hers. Teasing and gentle at first, their kiss soon gained momentum until he dropped the mistletoe on the table near the door and she pressed as close against him as his thick coat would allow.

Taking a breath, she quickly unfastened the snaps on his coat and slid it off his shoulders, carefully over his injured arm, until it dropped to the floor. He tossed his hat on the little chair Kenzie kept by the door while a groan escaped his throat. He took in every feature of her face, the mouth-watering summery fragrance surrounding her, and the softness of the hot pink sweater she wore. Her favorite color currently matched the shade of her flushed cheeks.

Lowering his head to hers again, Tate wrapped his good arm around her waist and slowly backed her toward the living room without breaking the connection of their lips.

“I missed you,” he whispered against her mouth as he carefully guided her to the couch. When her knees connected with the edge, she sank down on the soft cushions, still holding onto Tate. He went down with her, ravishing her neck with sizzling kisses that made her whisper his name in a throaty tone, sending blood surging through his veins.

"10% of the net proceeds from all my book sales December 1-24 will be donated to the Justin Cowboy Crisis Fund®"

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Genre – Romance (contemporary western)

Rating – PG

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Connect with Shanna Hatfield on Facebook and Twitter

Website http://shannahatfield.com