Stubborn, Mule-Headed, Independent Woman!She'd Take That As A Compliment...Maggie Dalton has no need for a man in her life. Widowed more than ten years, she’s built a successful business and managed quite well on her own in the bustling town of Baker City, Oregon. Aggravated by her inability to block thoughts of the handsome lumber mill owner from her mind, she renews her determination to resist his attempts at friendship.Full of Scottish charm and mischief, Ian MacGregor could claim any available woman in Baker City as his own, except the enchanting dress shop owner who continues to ignore him. Not one to give up on what he wants, Ian vows to win Maggie’s heart or leave the town he’s come to love. Views: 60
Could aliens actually exist in small-town Vermont? Nancy suspects not...Nancy, Bess and George have driven from River Heights to northern Vermont to visit a friend of George and her mom's who owns a quaint, touristy small restaurant/cafÉ in a town near a major ski resort. They are amazed that though it is past the height of foliage season, and barely ski season, there is a traffic jam of cars waiting to catch a ferry; they decide to drop out of line and drive to a local diner. When they question the waitress about what is going on, she is surprised they haven't heard but there have been repeated and credible UFO sightings over the border in ski country in Vermont. George jokes about little green men in snowsuits. Bess suggests the men are red but wearing green snowsuits. Nancy simply cracks up, but grows serious when the waitress reveals that even Federal government investigators have been called in--"Vermont is turning into a North Country Roswell, New Mexico!"... Views: 60
Paris, 1314: A Knight Templar weeps as he watches his friends, broken by torture, go to their deaths at the stake. Pope Clement has destroyed the Order, persuaded of corruption within it. All that remains is the desire for vengeance on those who defiled the Order's name. Devon, 1316: Two years of heavy rains and poor harvests have driven many to a life of thieving; bands of outlaws known as "trail bastons" rove the countryside, spreading terror in their wake. The newly appointed Bailiff of Lydford Castle, Simon Puttock, has had little experience of violence. When the charred body of Harold Brewer is found in his burned-out cottage, Simon assumes it's accidental death. It's the new master of the local manor, Sir Baldwin Furnshill, recently returned from Europe, who deduces that Brewer was dead before the fire began. With the assistance of the astute yet strangely reticent knight, Simon begins to piece together the events of Brewer's last days. Then word comes of another murder, more horrible by far – for in this case, the victim was undoubtedly burned alive. Are the two incidents connected, and will the killers strike again? Views: 60
Around here, even dying can be hard. Horribly hard. Only death itself comes easy. By easy, I mean frequent. Death happens so often that people regard it pretty much the same as the never-ending rain. When life itself is hard, you have to be hard to live. Even a bitch will cull one of her own pups if she doesn't think he's going to be tough enough--she knows she's only got but so much milk, and there's none to waste.Survival isn't some skill we learned--it's in all our genes. Nobody needed to be told to step aside when they saw the Beast coming. But not everyone stepped fast enough.There's rock slides. Floods, too. Those are natural phenomena. You live here, you expect them. But just because a man's found under tons of rock, or floating in the river, doesn't mean his death was due to natural causes.Folks drink a lot. Wives get beaten something fierce. Some of those wives can shoot pretty good. And some of their husbands never think it can happen to them, even when they're sleeping off a drunk.There's supposed to be good and bad in everyone. Probably is. But here, it's the bad in you that's more often the most useful.Like the difference between climate and weather. Most folks around here don't view a killing as good or bad--just something that happens, like a flood or a fire. That's why a whole lot of bodies never get viewed at all.For a man like me, this is a good part of the country to do my work. I take pride in the quality of my work, but I never deceive myself that every death at my hands is justified, never mind righteous or noble. I never saw myself as ... much of anything, really. Just a crippled, cornered rat, trying to protect my little brother with whatever I can. Views: 60
