Holidays past… and future.
Growing up in southern Florida, I didn’t have a chance to experience a
white Christmas. The closest I came were glittery winter scenes on holiday
cards and scrapping ice off the windshield of the car on below freezing
mornings. I’d hope for a cold snap to roll in and bring 40 degree weather so my
Dad would light a fire in the fireplace while I opened my presents on Christmas
morning.
I know, I can hear all you who live in New England, the Upper Midwest and
Canada laughing. “Wimp,” you’re saying. After you’ve spent a few summers in the
balmy southland, you have trouble adjusting to what little cold we get—it
interferes with the water skiing and sunbathing. As the locals like to say,
“Your blood thins out.” Winter visitors stand out because they are the ones in
shorts and flip-flops, while the locals use the cold weather as an excuse to
wear their boots and wrap Doctor Who scarves around their necks.
I really didn’t experience a white Christmas until I was in my
mid-twenties. Uncle Sam sent my husband and me on an expense paid two year
vacation to southern Germany (also know as serving in the army). He was posted
at a small post in Herzogenaurach, near Nuremberg. We’d always heard about the
wonderful Christkindlesmarkt (Christmas
Market) held in Nuremberg, so off we went with a group of friends on a snowy
December evening.
It was a magical night, with the square full of lights and merriment and
the old Frauenkirche Church overlooking it all. The stalls were filled with
delicate handmade glass ornaments; the air held the scent of bratwurst,
gingerbread and gluhwein. And of course, snow. It was so cold, the only way I
could keep my hands warm was to wrap them around a cup of gluhwein—hot spiced
wine. The only problem was I kept emptying the cup, to keep my insides warm.
Needless to say, we were all happy and a little tipsy by the time we left.
I purchased a box of iridescent glass ornaments, protecting them all evening long from the pushing and shoving of the crowd. When we returned to the states, I proudly put them on my Christmas tree, only to have the cats, Frodo and Meriadoc, ride the tree to the ground and break most of them. Such is the life of a Crazy Cat Lady.
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| Click on picture to get the receipt. |
If you’d like to make some gluhwein for your holidays this year, click on
the picture for the receipt. If you don’t partake of the spirits, the drink can
be make with apple cider.
Holidays future-Founder’s Days
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The lieutenant nodded, his head bobbing like some child’s toy. “With the augie project shut down, your partner may have only been a target of opportunity, but what if Tritico wanted to subvert him specifically?”
A mind with no compunction, no morals, hijacking a body with all of Wolf’s considerable talents for mayhem? Ice settled in Fitz’s stomach. “Tritico tried to kill Ransahov once before and failed. Now he needs an assassin who can get through all the Imperial Security measures—get past me—and take her and the entire government down.”
“Is even he that good?” Pike said.
Jumper surged to his feet, fur standing up along his spine. “With those upgrades? You bet he is. You’ll never see him coming. He’ll rip through this security like it was wet paper. No offence, Boss Lady. Then he’ll blow away every one of those wimpy Praetorian Guardsmen in their pretty white armor. The only thing you’ll see of him will be his smile just before he puts a slug between your eyes…” His ears flatten against his skull. “We are so screwed.”
Had Tritico forced Wolf to become a pawn in a competition much like the strategy games the two had played as cadets at the Academy? A contest acted out not in a virtual reality world, but across the sweep of an empire. Not with icons on a screen, but with real ships and weapons and living, thinking beings forced to function as game pieces. Had he picked Wolf solely for his skills, or because he knew that if there was one shred of the man she loved inside that stolen body, one glimmer of his soul, Tritico could inflict untold pain on him as he made him watch himself slaughter his friends and loved ones? Slaughter her?
Fitz started to rise, but froze as Pike’s face went ashen.
“The Founder’s Day celebrations.” Fear strangled his voice. “There’ll be thousands…”
Fitz took up the litany. “Tens of thousands, from all over the Empire, even the Midworlds. Ari will have concerts to attend, speeches to deliver, at least one warship christening. Not to mention that big gala at Star Henge.”
Her young aide found his voice. “Which will be attended by the Emperor and the civilian Triumvir, along with every high ranking military official—Fleet or Marines. Every assemblyman or councilperson. Every businessperson in the Empire, hell in the whole Human Sector; anyone who wants to snag a lucrative imperial contract. If your assassin is as good as the cat thinks he is, he can effectively behead Ransahov’s entire government at any one of these events.”
From the 15th until Christmas Cypher will be available at a special holiday price of only $1.99. Enjoy and don't forget to leave a review. Happy Hanukkah. Merry Christmas. Joyous Kwanzaa.
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| Click to return to the SFRB page for the next great blog post. |
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| 2. | Pippa Jay | 17. | Siren Allen | |
| 3. | Carol Van Natta | 18. | Tess Rider | |
| 4. | Liza O'Connor | 19. | Kyndra Hatch | |
| 5. | Jolie Mason | 20. | Melisse Aires | |
| 6. | Aurora Springer | 21. | Michelle Diener | |
| 7. | S. A. Hoag | 22. | Shari Elder | |
| 8. | Pauline Baird Jones | 23. | Ed Hoornaert | |
| 9. | Veronica Scott | 24. | C.E. Kilgore | |
| 10. | Jess Anastasi | 25. | Diane Burton | |
| 11. | AR DeClerck | 26. | Athena Grayson | |
| 12. | Dena Garson | 27. | Misa Buckley | |
| 13. | Carmen Webster Buxton | 28. | Kaye Manro | |
| 14. | Imogene Nix | 29. | E.M Reders | |
| 15. | Christina Westcott |
