Blogging with Geo Dell

Dani California: RHCP

California, rest in peace
Simultaneous release
California, show your teeth
She’s my priestess
I’m your priest, yeah, yeah…

Watch the music video for “Dani California” now! Stadium…

Anitha Suresh

My book just launched.

Blurb:
A dynamic, intelligent, highly ambitious woman, sets out to make a mark in a man’s world. She is the first woman in her organization to enter the technical domain, she not only excels in her chosen field, she also breaks an egotist mindset of one of her senior colleague. She gets caught in the politics at work, despite her excellent track record and major accomplishments in some of the path-breaking technological aspects, she becomes vulnerable and defeated. In her personal life, she is unable to make her own decisions; she is constantly nagged by her parents and limited by their choices. She wants freedom, she wants to chase her dreams and fulfill the promises she made to herself and to her loving uncle but she accepts defeat tired of fighting……
Does she give up? Would she end up in oblivion? Can she do nothing at all? Read on to find out more……….her battle, her love and her success.

It is available in all formats. My friends, you are spoilt for choices. It can’t get better than this. Please grab your copy and read it. I can’t wait to read your reviews.

For those who want to hold a book, it is available in print.
For those who want it on kindle, please go for it.
For those who want it on their phones, please download in on google play, ibook, and kobo

Please find the links at

Notion Press https://notionpress.com/read/the-tyranny-of-love-life-and-destiny

Amazon https://www.amazon.in/Tyranny-Love-Life-Destiny/dp/1642496804

Flipkart https://www.flipkart.com/tyranny-love-life-destiny/p/itmf3jehzmhwbwwq?pid=9781642496802

GOOGLE PLAY https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Anitha_The_Tyranny_of_Love_Life_and_Destiny?id=NX1SDwAAQBAJ

IBOOK https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1362001620

KOBO https://www.kobo.com/in/en/ebook/the-tyranny-of-love-life-and-destiny


So I’m watching The Voice and a a young guy comes out to sing a song and he has pants that end four inches above his ankle and no socks. On purpose. I guess that is cool now?
I know that if you grew up in the 60’s or 70’s they had a name for that. The pants were called high-waters which meant they were last years pants, and maybe not yours, but your sisters or brothers. Yes. And the socks or lack thereof? Easy: It meant it was not your turn to wear the socks.; maybe your sister or brother got to wear them that week… Just saying… emulate the cool stuff not the fool stuff..


So I am watching the end episodes of Survivor season sixteen on Hulu; which my friend Andrea recommended and I really like as a matter of fact, and they show a white parrot? MaCaw? Something parrot like sitting on a branch and a lizard in the claw/foot/hand.
It looked a little like the Geico lizard… Non threatening… Minding its own business… Watching the contestants, probably, and maybe even chuckling to itself: “He, he, he, those silly survivors!” And WHAM…
Clutched by a parrot… Benevolent parrot? Hardcore island gang member parrot? Hard to tell until… WHAM!!! The parrot bites off one of the lizards legs/feet/arms… Surprisingly the lizard seems to take this in stride… No yelling, screaming… “Help Police!” Nothing at all…
Possibly the Geico lizard was in shock, after all the parrot just ate one of its legs/arms/feet. And while I am thinking this I also think “Hey, that parrot is holding that lizard just like a corn-dog on a stick.” And as soon as I think it the parrot lifts the lizard slightly towards its mouth and WHAM!!! Chomps off the head and shoulders… All that is left is a stump and a twitchy tail.
Ahhh, I think, island wildlife… The real reason I am watching these old Survivor episodes. Me and the parrot, him with most of his snack remaining, settle in to see if the ladies are really going to blindside Ozzy ’cause Amanda seems really upset…


New York this week during the ice storm…


Round Here: Counting Crows

Maria came from Nashville with a suitcase in her hand
She said she’d like to meet a boy who looks like Elvis
She walks along the edge of where the ocean meets the land
Just like she’s walking on a wire in the circus
She parks her car outside of my house
Takes her clothes off
Says she’s close to understanding Jesus
She knows she’s just a little misunderstood
She has trouble acting normal when she’s nervous

Round here we’re carving out our names
Round here we all look the same
Round here we talk just like lions
But we sacrifice like lambs
Round here she’s slipping through my hands
Sleeping children better run like the wind
Out of the lightning dream
Mama’s little baby better get herself in
Out of the lightning
She says It’s only in my head…

Listen to more from Counting Crows: https://CountingCrows.lnk.to/Essentials Explore the incredible…

YOUTUBE.COM https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SAe3sCIakXo


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Earth’s Survivors: Alabama Island Earth’s Survivors Dell Sweet

Earth’s Survivors: Alabama Island Series: Earth’s Survivors

Dell Sweet: View More by This Author

This book can be downloaded and read in iBooks on your Mac or iOS device.

Description

Joel came awake with sunlight streaming in through the windshield of the small car. He looked around at the road. Stalled cars for as far as he could see in any direction He was somewhere outside of Rochester, but where, he wondered. He thought back to Rochester.
The drive into the city in the early morning had seemed uneventful right up until the attack had come. Afterward he had berated himself, cursed himself for not taking the events of the night before more seriously, but he knew that the truth was that none of them had. None of them had, and now he was the only one left. The only one left, and he was alone because of that decision.
They had just passed a large mansion, or what had once been a large mansion on East avenue: Nearly into downtown when the attack had come. The last Jeep, Ed… Terry, Gina? He couldn’t remember for sure, but it didn’t matter, they were only the first to go. The Jeep had blown up behind them. One second it was morning silent; birds whistling from the tree lined street, and the next a roaring fireball had erupted from the Jeep. The Jeep had lifted into the air engulfed with flame, and had come back down a split second later a twisted, shattered wreck. The roof ripped open crudely as if a giant can opener had done the job: Glass gone, body twisted: Blackened shapes, still moving, clearly seen through the flames.
They had all panicked. Joel had hit the brakes, somehow convinced they had driven over something in the road: Landmines. The word leapt into his mind and kept repeating. The second Jeep had rammed into them, Scott, Lilly, Jan, and that had distracted him further. As he had lifted his eyes he had seen the men squatting beside the once elegant mansion. A rocket launcher on one man’s shoulder, and he had known the truth.
His foot had seemed to leap forward of its own accord and slam into the gas pedal, but it was too late. His eyes swiveled back and he saw the rocket leap from the launcher. A second later a black curtain had descended.
He had come to hours later; the vehicles’ nothing but twisted husks, still burning in the black night. He could feel the heat from the fires. He had lain for what seemed like a long time trying to orient himself, make sense of what he last remembered, and what he now saw. Time did nothing to sort it out. It still made no sense some time later when he had first tried to sit up. Pain had flared everywhere and the black curtain had descended once more.
The second time the fires had been out. Heat still came from the blackened shells, but the fires were dead. The moon was high in the sky, bloated, bright silver.
He had moved slower, and while it had been close he had managed to fight past the first pain when he had moved.
His left leg was bad. Not broken, but cut badly, maybe sprung, after all he had lain with it twisted to one side for what he assumed was a very long time. He used part of his shirt to wrap his leg as he let his head clear.
His head was worse. Pain inside every time he tried to move too fast. It felt like liquid sloshing around inside his head, his brain shifting with it, slamming into the bone cage of his skull, and he wondered if it were true, or just something his mind provided in explanation of the pain. As he sat the pain eased enough for him to stand. Standing helped to ease it even more and he began to search for the others…

…More

Earth's Survivors: Alabama Island
  • $2.99
  • Available on iPhone, iPad, iPod touch, and Mac.
  • Category: Sci-Fi & Fantasy
  • Published: Mar 30, 2018
  • Publisher: IndependAntwriters Publishing
  • Seller: Smashwords
  • Print Length: 306 Pages
  • Language: English
  • Series: Earth’s Survivors
  • Requirements: To view this book, you must have an iOS device with iBooks 1.3.1 or later and iOS 4.3.3 or later, or a Mac with iBooks 1.0 or later and OS X 10.9 or later.


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Uncle Geo’s homemade chili and jumbo dog dinner

Uncle Geo’s homemade chili and jumbo dog dinner.


This is the recipe for the dinner I made mom and I tonight.
First, go to Walmart and buy a can of chili. As a bonus you can then write a funny anecdotal story about the Walmart trip when you get home.
While you are there at Walmart buy a package of the Jumbo hot dogs that you know your mother likes.
Optionally you might want to buy a package of the jumbo hot dog rolls to go with the giant package of jumbo hot dogs.
Okay, try very hard to be good at Walmart so that when you write the anecdotal humorous story it doesn’t have any felonious descriptions in it or even worse have to be delayed due to an arrest warrant misunderstanding of some sort.
When you are ready clear a space on the counter top next to the stove. Get a few squares of paper toweling and place them there because if you are like me there is going to be one hell-of-a mess by the time you are done. And if you are a neat person, well, good for you.
So get the jumbo hot dogs out of the freezer and place them on the paper toweling. This would be after you have split the hot dogs into packages of two and thus made it easy to retrieve and use them. Um, I didn’t do that this time but I do it almost every other time… Sometimes. So get out the dullest butter knife you can find and carefully try to pry two of the hot dogs from the frozen blob. NO! Do not even think of using a butchers knife or a steak knife because, as I can attest you may lacerate a finger… Or two, or hell, even three before you pry lose two of those frozen suckers.
Okay, now open the cupboard door and retrieve one of the cans of chili (I purchased two because very often one will end up on the floor somehow… Damn, I wish we had a dog.).
Okay here I would like to extol the virtues of the ring-pull topped cans Walmart is now selling for some items like this chili I purchased. Grasp the ring firmly; no, not with the nearly amputated pinkie finger from the computer incident, use the ring finger which; let’s face it, is never going to have a ring on it again so if it is injured who cares. Okay now toss the lid in the garbage. Yes, I will be yelled at later about how it should have been rinsed and recycled and blah, blah, blah, yackity yack.
Set the can down and compose yourself because this is usually where the contents of any can I have opened ends up on the floor somehow. Get a spoon and spoon the contents into a saucepan. Yes, spoon them, because trying to shake them out into the pan has never gone well. Clean out the can, lick the spoon: Taste that? That is home made chili right there. Put the can in the sink and run some water in it and then peel the label off and throw it away outside in the garbage can so know one can ever find it.
Next take the two pried apart and pretty chewed up hot dogs and toss them into the pan also. Slap a lid over that. Turn the heat to very low, clean up the mess and go load a guitar video to Facebook… Unless you don’t have any guitar videos then you’ll have to load something else.
Come back a few minutes later; stir the frozen jumbo dogs and the chili and then take about a 1/4 pound of bacon ends and pieces and put them in a bowl, cover the top of that bowl with a saucer plate. Microwave that for five minutes. When done you will have crispy bacon pieces, give or take adding another minute or so to achieve that.
Stir that chili again, notice the hot dogs have thawed and are swelling. Wait another three or four minutes and then shut the heat off, remove the bacon from the bowl and towel it and then cut it into small pieces.
go into the living room and announce to all present that you have made home made chili and it is ready to be served. Add a tortilla to the plate as I did for myself, or a jumbo hot dog roll or just plain dog and chili as mom had it with bacon chunks spread on it. Top all of that with grated cheese and serve it hot.
Oh, deny you bought any of it at Walmart. Talk about how the tomatoes nearly failed this summer, but pulled through. Talk about how it was your first year growing Jalapenos. Everyone will be impressed including the dog if you have one. Cats, probably not so much, mine wasn’t.



Hey! Check out my Earth’s Survivors series. This series is only around for a short time longer and then it is gone forever. Get this book free while it is available, Geo…

Kate is trying to stay alive after most of the Earth’s population has been wiped out… She may not make it #eBook Click Here: https://goo.gl/y2fzZr



 More in this vein from Geo Dell…

Hash, beans, messy counters, Houdini the cat and ice cream

A basic trip to Walmart and free eBooks



 

Dell Sweet’s Top Books on iTunes

Dell Sweet’s Top Books on iTunes



Intolerance from Geo Dell…

Intolerance from Geo Dell…

I wanted to touch on intolerance a little bit today. The more I see intolerance in this world this more amazed I am. Does it take a truck to run over some people to get them to see? I tend to not want to shove my complaints off on someone else. I see that often and I don’t like it, you have your own opinion or you don’t. If you do and you say things like, “Well, this guy said that, or That guy said this.” Then you are just wasting time. You are arguing someone else’s position and hedging your bets so that you don’t have to say anything about it yourself. I would call that chickenshit, but if course that isn’t politically correct so I would have to call it Waffling or something, but we all still know it’s chickenshit. And if you read my blogs I would say you are already aware that I am not politically correct anyway, nor do I have any aspirations of being politically correct. In fact I think political correctness has its own place in the chickenshit lane. It says, I really want to say this, but I am afraid of what saying that can do to me.
Intolerance: I am a Christian but I am also part Native American so I kind of mix those two things. I could lie and say, No, I am completely this way, or, I am completely that way. But I tell the truth when it comes to that because I happen to think the creator would want it that way. The thing is, I have three different kinds of blood in me and I wonder about all three of those cultures.
I don’t really get anything to my face, and I have lived a while so there really isn’t too much that hurts my feelings, at least not when it comes to me. It is when I see intolerance towards others that I tend to get upset, especially if one of those someone’s is someone I care about, or it touches a nerve. Just food for thought about being a human being in this world we live in…



 

Earth’s Survivors box set contains the entire Earth’s Survivors series in one volume.

Book One: Apocalypse.
Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in a desperate struggle to survive. Small groups band together for safety, leaving the ravaged cities behind in search of a new future…

Book Two: Rising From The Ashes.
Earth’s Survivors Rising From The Ashes continues to follow the survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. The small groups are growing, branching out in search of a new future. It chronicles their day to day struggles as well as their dreams as they search out new hope in their shattered world…

Book Three: The Nation.
This part of the story really concentrates on the formation of The Nation and the people who will build it and carry it forward, but it also brings along the side story of The Fold and the people who will build that haven. It gives a more complete picture of Adam and Cammy, and picks up the Tale of Billy and Beth, Mike and Candace, Conner and Katie as they work to sort out their lives.

Book Four: Home The Valley.
Home in the valley concentrates on the building of the first and most important settlement of The Nation. The valley settlement is where the people that run the Nation will come from. They will rise to leadership positions across the former United States. The first supply trip out for the Nation nearly turns to disaster, and more of the separate parties join and become one under the Nation Flag.

Book Five: Plague.
Plague outlines the sudden rise of the dead, chronicling the spread across the country. It follows Adam, Beth, Billy and Pearl as they head north looking for an antidote that can bring the plagues to end. It also sees the first babies born to the Nation, the formation of both the Fold and Alabama Island, and the loss of one of the founders of The Nation without whom the Nation may dissolve…

Book Six: Watertown.
Major Weston read the report twice and then carefully set it back on his desk. Johns or Kohlson: One of the two had stolen samples of SS-V2765. It was not a question. No one else had the access, no one else the proximity or knowledge of where it was stored. Two of the virus, one each of the REX agents were missing. Enough to infect several million people, and that was just the initial infection…

Book Seven: World Order.
This book steps back to the beginning to bring you the story of the Fold. Jessie Stone, why and how Snoqualmie settlement came to be. It begins in present day and then falls back in time to the beginning of the Apocalypse. The Fold becomes the biggest challenger to the Nations power. The community that can force the Nation into compromise, or bring a war that may destroy both societies…
Get a FREE preview right now!

https://www.amazon.com/Earths-Survivors-box-Dell-Sweet-ebook/dp/B01GULFBQA



 

Earth’s Survivors: box set Kindle Edition

Earth’s Survivors: box set Kindle Edition

Earth’s Survivors box set contains the entire Earth’s Survivors series in one volume.

Book One: Apocalypse.
Earth’s Survivors Apocalypse follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in a desperate struggle to survive. Small groups band together for safety, leaving the ravaged cities behind in search of a new future…

Book Two: Rising From The Ashes.
Earth’s Survivors Rising From The Ashes continues to follow the survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. The small groups are growing, branching out in search of a new future. It chronicles their day to day struggles as well as their dreams as they search out new hope in their shattered world…

Book Three: The Nation.
This part of the story really concentrates on the formation of The Nation and the people who will build it and carry it forward, but it also brings along the side story of The Fold and the people who will build that haven. It gives a more complete picture of Adam and Cammy, and picks up the Tale of Billy and Beth, Mike and Candace, Conner and Katie as they work to sort out their lives.

Book Four: Home The Valley.
Home in the valley concentrates on the building of the first and most important settlement of The Nation. The valley settlement is where the people that run the Nation will come from. They will rise to leadership positions across the former United States. The first supply trip out for the Nation nearly turns to disaster, and more of the separate parties join and become one under the Nation Flag.

Book Five: Plague.
Plague outlines the sudden rise of the dead, chronicling the spread across the country. It follows Adam, Beth, Billy and Pearl as they head north looking for an antidote that can bring the plagues to end. It also sees the first babies born to the Nation, the formation of both the Fold and Alabama Island, and the loss of one of the founders of The Nation without whom the Nation may dissolve…

Book Six: Watertown.
Major Weston read the report twice and then carefully set it back on his desk. Johns or Kohlson: One of the two had stolen samples of SS-V2765. It was not a question. No one else had the access, no one else the proximity or knowledge of where it was stored. Two of the virus, one each of the REX agents were missing. Enough to infect several million people, and that was just the initial infection…

Book Seven: World Order.
This book steps back to the beginning to bring you the story of the Fold. Jessie Stone, why and how Snoqualmie settlement came to be. It begins in present day and then falls back in time to the beginning of the Apocalypse. The Fold becomes the biggest challenger to the Nations power. The community that can force the Nation into compromise, or bring a war that may destroy both societies…

Get a free extended preview instantly! Click Here: https://www.amazon.com/Earths-Survivors-box-Dell-Sweet-ebook/dp/B01GULFBQA

Billy Jingo Collected Short Stories; free preview!

Billy Jingo

Collected Short Stories

 

Billy Jingo: Collected Short Stories is Copyright © 2014 Dell Sweet

Copyright © 2014 by Dell Sweet All rights reserved

Cover Art © Copyright 2015 Wendell Sweet

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living persons places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

This novel is Copyright © 2014 Wendell Sweet and his assignees. The Name Dell Sweet is a publishing construct used by Wendell Sweet. Portions of this text are copyright 2010, and 2011, all rights reserved by Wendell Sweet and his assignees. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the author’s or assignees permission.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.


This excerpt has not been edited for content.

This excerpt is protected by copyright law both foreign and domestic


A DRESS FOR JANEY

I rode slowly watching the trail side. There wasn’t much to see in the moonlight, but enough to follow if you knew where to look, and I did.

The thing was, this fella was not no kind of careful anyways. And he was not no horse man neither.

I rubbed my geldings rump, patted a time, and silently promised him a little extra rest time once we caught up to this fool sometime later in the night.

Mister Johnson was a good horse. More used to plow than saddle, but circumstances dictate those positions more’n I do. And this man I was trackin’ had dictated tonight’s circumstances clear and straight.

I turned Mister Johnson down a short chute of a canyon, keeping him to the side so as not to mark the trail, and to keep his iron shoes from ringing out on the stone. We come to a little stream that cut the canyon and I stopped, rolled myself a smoke. I sat, hand cupped and smoked. Listening to the surrounding night.

If this was a smart fella, no way would I have lit no smoke. But this was no smart man at all. This, from what I could see, was a desperate man. Desperate or dumb. Or, possibly, both. I’d know for sure before dawn.

I finished the smoke, flipped it into the crik and went on my way again, following the trail of my own other horse, Mizz Johnson.

I had, had her as long as I had, had Mister Johnson. Truth be told I thought Mister Johnson might be even more pissed off about the situation that I was. He just didn’t know how to use a rope, if so I’m sure he’d a been out for a hangin’ too.

I worked my way sideways down a gully, leaving the actual trail behind me where it out and did a loop back onto itself. The direction was clear enough, and he was far enough ahead that I wouldn’t come up on him, and the shortcut would save me time considerable.

I had me a farm, a good woman and two boys old enough to help a little already. A girl child who made me feel like crying ever time I looked at her. I don’t figure how that is: That a girl child can do that, ‘cept I can see she will have to live her life, and it’s a hard one, and I wisht better than what I got to give her.

Men is men. The boys will grow up rough and tumble. That’s boys. That’s boys comin’ to be a man. But a girl child, seems to me, looks out at the world all pretty and hope, and then the world sort of breaks her down. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow.

I’d seen that truth in the eyes of a whore down in Dodge several years back. A young pretty whore, but resigned to be a whore. I’d paid my dollar and stayed for a little conversation as it was a slow night. I don’t never want to see that look in my Melissa’s eyes. But I can’t see that my Janey would ever let her go down that path. We learn from our mistakes, we do: If we don’t we don’t last long in this world.

I made the trail and walked Mister Johnson on the up-slope at a steady pace. He didn’t need much help or pointin’: I figured he could smell ol’ Mizz Johnson at that point, and he was, as I said, a might upset himself.

I was two days out from home. Me out from home meant that Janey had to do it all with no help from no man. Plow what she could with that goddamn, son-of-a-bitch mule we had. Be lucky if it didn’t kick her bad is what I’d be.

This life don’t slow down for no horse thief. The kids got to be fed. The chicks fed too. The cows milked. The other things a woman’s got to do. Cook, and clean, what all. But she’s got to do all the things a man’s got to do as well. All piled in there. No break at all. That was this life out here, how it had to be. How it was.

I caught the smell of fire and meat roastin’ on the air. Fresh, green wood. Not much of a woodsman either, I opinioned. But, considering the horsemanship, the theft itself and all of the rest of it, I’d say I was not too surprised. I stopped, rolled another smoke, kept it cupped to hide the flame, didn’t worry about the odor even though I was close now. The wind was at me after all, and his own, smokey fire would hide all other smells if the wind did shift. Chances were he had no idea of smells on the wind anyways.

I let my eyes travel the sky, lookin’ and I spotted a few stray sparks as they rose into the night sky not far away. All kinds of dumb. But I bet he considered himself some sort of woodsman just because he could light that fire.

Some figure if they can build a fire they’s a woodsman. I laugh at that. I have slept in snow banks and stayed warm. I tracked snowshoes in dead winter and got them. I have been lived in the wild with just a knife for two months while I was working out of the back country and my first horse dropped a leg in a chuck-hole and I had to shoot him.

I was green then. Used up one of my last four bullets on the horse, when I could’a used the knife and saved that bullet. Packed some out with me, dried over the fire, and et better those two months. I was young, dumb and life to come. And for me I was goddamn lucky to have lived through it that time. But, as I done said the one time, you learn or you die. Life, it don’t forgive a lot out here.

I finished the smoke, crushed it out between my thumb and forefinger, then angled Mister Johnson down toward the fire I’d seen. I could be, maybe, cocky and ride right up on him, but I don’t like to misjudge. I tied Mister Johnson to a tree to keep him out of it in case there was gun-play, which I intended there might be. I’d just have to hope there were none that got Mister Johnson. But he’d fare better hidden away. A man will always try in shoot a man’s horse at first sight if he can.

I walked the last hundred or so yards into his camp. My old sprung boots was so mushy and soft they was like walkin’ in Indian mocs anyhow. He never heard me comin’.

He had a chuck spitted over the fire, and probably ever cat, wolf, bear and wild dog for two miles around was sniffing on the air. He was stupid alright. I’d seen some green eyes, and two sets of red eyes as I had made my way into his camp.

He sat before the fire. A fat man: I’d knowed that from the depth of the hoof print though. And a stupid man just as I had guessed, as he had allowed me to walk right up to him, too busy tryin’ to twist the cap off’n a store bought bottle of whiskey he’d got from somewhere.

I decided on the spot to save the bullet: Put my gun away and pulled the rope that I had bought with me free from my shoulder. If a man ever works with cattle, branding, he don’t forget how to rope. And, as a younger man, I done my share of that. I had him in on one toss, and cinched it tight as I walked up on him face to face like.

“Hey,” he says, but me, I go about my business. I got me a limb picked out. We wrestle a little while I drag him to the limb, shift that rope quick like to his neck, and haul him up. He don’t say nothin’ after ‘Hey’, he tries to though.

Folks think hanging a man is easy. And, it can at times be easy, but this wasn’t no easy time: This was one a them hard times. A fat man, a thick neck, and me being plain tired out. He kicked and thrashed for all of ten minutes before he slowed. Me hanging on the end of that rope to keep him stretched, but I could not get him to swinging. And then, me being tired as I was, I looped that rope around Mizz Johnson’s saddle horn, the dumb bastard didn’t know enough to take a saddle off’n a horse, and walked her a bit to get him swinging free. Goddamn if he didn’t kick some more at that. I waited ten more minutes, ticked ’em off on my Elgin. I seen men come back if they neck ain’t broke, and I was sure it was not.

I let him down after that time, rope don’t come cheap to me, and left him laying there for the coyotes, wolves, bear and cats the damn fool had called down. Fat man might not be their favorite, but when times is tough it will do I’d bet.

I gathered up Mizz Johnson, went back and got Mister Johnson. They was happy to see each other. Blowing and touching noses to necks.

The fat man had two pair a saddle bags. The first had a food store, no surprise there, except why he’d been about to eat chuck when he had bacon. The second was a surprise: Gold, and not a little. I will tell you it was enough to sit me right down there by the fire to look it over.

I can count, but there’s a limit. What I knowed, I did, and then I had reached the limit and there was a long ways to go yet. A very long ways. And the trouble was I did not know for absolute what each piece was worth. Coin, stamped, but I could not read none. I could only say there was five times of  counting to one hundred and a way to go after that.

Janey could read and write too. And she could cypher figures a sight farther than I could when it come to that. Whoring had taught her that. No whore could afford to get cheated.

I looked at it there in the moonlight for a piece, then put it all back in the saddlebags except a few pieces I kept for my pocket. Janey could count it; whatever it was we were a huge sight better off than we had been. It almost made me want to thank the fat man. I didn’t though. He stole my horse and he got what a horse thief is supposed to get.

I tied Mizz Johnson to the saddle horn of old Mister Johnson’s saddle by a longish lead and we rode out of there. I did put that fire out before we left. I left the chuck where it was, dug me out a piece of jerky my own Janey had made. I chewed thoughtful, thinking about the money as I rode. I was gonna stop at Abilene, which was on the way, and buy Janey a dress. She’d always had such pretty dresses when I’d met her, but times being as they was there weren’t no money for pretty dresses.

I smiled to myself thinkin’ about Janey’s eyes when she saw a new dress or two and then a saddlebag full a gold pieces. It made me feel good inside. I looked up at the moon, sent a prayer to God above up there somewhere, turned Mister Johnson for the next ridge and headed towards Abilene.


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Earth’s Survivors Collection Five free preview

Earth’s Survivors Collection Five Kindle Edition

 

The Earth’s Survivors Series follows survivors of a worldwide catastrophe. A meteorite that was supposed to miss the earth completely, hits and becomes the cap to a series of events that destroy the world as we know it. Police, fire, politicians, military, governments: All gone. Hopes, dreams, tomorrows: All buried in desperate struggle to survive. From L.A. To Manhattan the cities, governments have toppled and lawlessness is the rule. The dead lay in the streets while gangs fight for control of what is left. Small groups band together for safety and begin to leave the ravaged cities behind in search of a future that can once again hold promise.
Earth’s Survivors Collection Five brings together book Six and book seven from the earth’s Survivors series in one volume. From the theft of the virus from a top secret facility to the births of The Nation’s first babies to the formation of The Fold and how it came to be.
Book six tells the story leading up to the Apocalypse. That tale includes the story of Billy Jingo, Alice Tetto, Major Weston’s private secretary. Ben Neo and Jimmy West, hired Killers, and a drug deal designed to hide the transfer of a top secret drug stolen from the Underground Bluechip facility, that goes very wrong. Set in the days leading up to the catastrophe that ends the world as we know it, Watertown is a hardcore ride through a world few would want to live in, but the world it leaves behind is somehow even worse than the one it helped to take away…
Book seven steps back to the beginning of the catastrophe to bring you the story of the Fold; Jessie Stone and why and how Snoqualmie settlement came to be. It begins in present time in the Nation and then falls back to just a few days after Watertown ends and the beginning of the Apocalypse. The Fold becomes the biggest challenge to the Nations power. The community that can force the Nation into compromise, or bring a war that may destroy both societies.
Both stories in their entirety in one volume…


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Earth’s Survivors Life Stories: Bear. A free preview

Earth’s Survivors Life Stories: Bear. A free on blog preview


EARTH’S SURVIVORS LIFE STORIES: BEAR

Earth’s Survivors Life Stories: Bear is copyright © 2017 Dell Sweet. All rights foreign and domestic reserved in their entirety.

Cover Art © Copyright 2017 Dell Sweet

Some text copyright 2010, 2014, 2015 Dell Sweet

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your bookseller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

LEGAL

This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places or incidents depicted are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual living person’s places, situations or events is purely coincidental.

This novel is Copyright © 2017 Wendell Sweet and his assignees. Dell Sweet and Geo Dell are publishing constructs owned by Wendell Sweet. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means, electronic, print, scanner or any other means and, or distributed without the author’s permission.

Permission is granted to use short sections of text in reviews or critiques in standard or electronic print.


This material is used with permission

This material is NOT edited for content and is rated 18+


Harlem

March 15th

“What I care about is how it goes,” Madison said. “Things are goddamn crazy…” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Cammy, these guys intend to run things here… Right here!”

“Never happen,” Cammy said. Her eyes slid past Madison and found Dollar where he stood with the curtains barely opened, looking out into the street, one gun stuffed into the back of his jeans, the other out and in his hand where he flicked the safety on and off, on and off as he peeked through the curtains at every new gunshot. There had been running gunfights most of the day. He was crazy, and getting crazier as the time rolled by.

“I know. This is why we need to go. When it fails, they’ll come here and kill all of us,” she whispered.

Dollar’s head suddenly appeared over Cammy’s shoulder. “And what are you two bitches whispering about?” His eyes were wild. He had access to as much cocaine as he wanted, and he had been shoveling it in for the last few days, unsure of how much he wanted, how much his body could handle, where to draw the line, or even if there was a line he should draw. He scared the hell out of Madison, and it took a lot to scare Madison.

“Shit women talk about,” Madison spat. She pushed Cammy away, got up and got right in Dollar’s face. “We need shit, and I already told you, I’m going to get it.”

“Go and I’ll shoot you dead,” Dollar said. He waved the gun in her face.

“You know what, I don’t think you will,” Madison bluffed. “And, anyway, we’re not leaving, we’re just going to get some things… lady things… then we’ll be back. You really gonna kill me over some shit like that?”

“What things?”

“Tampons.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Dollar said.

Madison laughed.

“I don’t want to hear that shit. That’s woman’s shit. I don’t want to hear it at all.”

“Yeah, dipshit. I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t let us go, and now it’s critical… Crit-it-cal! So unless you want us bleeding all over the place, we have to go.” She was still in his face, inches away.

Dollar stared at her. “I can’t fucking believe you said that. That’s… that’s way too much information.” He spun quickly toward the front windows as the crash of nearby gunfire broke the silence of the street. “You go out there, you’ll get killed.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll go the back way. Either way, we’re going,” Madison said. Her hand moved fast, fished the pistol that was jammed into the back of his pants – behind the belt – out, and then stepped back away before Dollar realized what had happened and spun around.

“And I said…” Dollar started as he turned around. “Wow.” He froze and stared at the gun that had appeared in Madison’s hand like so much magic. “Now why did you take my gun?” he asked. His empty hand felt along the back of his jeans where he was sure the gun had come from. He stuffed the gun in his hand into the waistband of his jeans, this time in front. Madison laughed.

“That is not the question you should be asking,” Madison said.

“No? Then what is the question I should be asking, bitch?” Dollar asked. He began to walk towards her. “I bet you ain’t got no period either… neither of you. Just said that to keep me away, I bet.”

Madison laughed. “Well, you’re right, but that isn’t where we were in this conversation. Where we were, was the question. You…” She pulled the slide back on the Automatic, chambering a round. “… Should…” Her thumb swept downward and clicked the safety off, “…be asking me the question, and you’re not.”

Dollar stopped in his tracks. “Don’t fuck around, girl. That ain’t no toy.”

“The question, you dumb fuck! The question,” Madison screamed. She pushed the pistol into his face.

“Okay! Okay! The fucking question… The fucking question…” Dollar shrank back, but bumped into the wall and stopped. “I don’t know the question. I don’t know it.”

“Will she do it?” Madison said. “Will the crazy bitch shoot me?”

Dollar’s eyes squinted. Madison waved the gun up and down. His hand darted for his own gun where he had stuffed it into the front waistband of his jeans.

“Yes she will,” Madison yelled as she fired. Dollar was falling before she finished yelling her answer. A second later, as Dollar gasped for air, laying on his side, his knees drawn up, a sucking sound coming from the hole in his chest, Madison reached down, caught Cammy’s hand, and they both fled toward the back of the apartment, and the door that lead into the alleyway.

Donita and the boy

She had made the boy a few days before. She had been heading out of another city when she had found him and his mother. The mother had given in with no fight. Donita had considered her for her army, but then rejected her. Perhaps if she had fought, maybe, but it seemed to not be a part of who she was and Donita could not take the chance that she would evolve into a non fighter. It was not something she needed.

The boy’s changing was slow, but it was happening. She had thought about it before she had done it and decided that the young would be useful. The older ones would be more powerful… But there was no way to convince them to this side, and so it would have to be the young at first. They were more easily subdued. They could grow into it. They would still change, still become powerful, but they would be much easier for her to control while they did.

Once she had more than the boy, she would have help. No longer would it be only her. She could see the way it would be, not the way her old self saw, but this new way, this new way of knowing that had nothing to do with anything inside of her. Nevertheless, it was solid, real. She could, and did, trust the knowledge that came to her. She would have her army. It would only take time.

Park Avenue: Bear

Bear was curled up on the carpet, Amanda Bynes’ carpet, where he had been for hours. Whatever had gone wrong with the world had gotten worse.

It had started yesterday with wind that was like a hurricane. It had blown into the city, and the rain had not been far behind it. Heavy rain, torrential rain. He had been in Mobile Alabama one year, waiting on a train to go back to New York. A hurricane was closing in. It had hit the city a glancing blow, and it had seemed the same as this. Heavy rain, the wind so hard it seemed to roar.

Then the lightening had come, and the thunder. Huge bolts. Deafening. Then there was a bad earthquake. The entire building shook, and he was convinced it would go down, believed it had to. How could it stand through that? But it had.

He had begun to get sick shortly after that, vomiting until there was nothing left, and still his stomach had not been satisfied. He still dry heaved for hours, it seemed.

The night went on and on, seemed to last forever. It was like the sun just decided not to rise the next day. Or the next day never came. He didn’t know which, anymore than he knew what day it really was now.

There was sunlight. Sparse, barely there, but he could see through the sliding glass doors to the balcony. It seemed to be covered with dirty snow. Mounds of it. He closed his eyes, squeezed them tightly, and rolled up into a sitting position. His stomach threatened again, but he waited it out. Once he felt he could walk, he got to his feet, walked to the glass doors and slid them open.

The entire world was gray. Ash was falling, blocking out the sunlight. The sun was like a silver disc, barely seen, riding the horizon. As he watched, the ash began to drift in onto the carpet. He closed the door and stood staring.

His stomach had calmed down. Whatever had been the cause of that, he was grateful it was easing. He didn’t feel like putting anything in it, in fact the thought alone brought back the queasiness, but left alone it seemed as though it would be fine.

The day went on. The sun seemed to slide across the horizon rather than actually rise. The rains came back hard and the winds with them. In no time the ash was washed away and the city was back, clean, fresh looking, and no dead to be seen in the driving rain. Apparently they didn’t like the rain either.

Although he was positive he could not sleep, he drifted into sleep later on that day, lying on Amanda Bynes’ carpet, watching the rain fall in sheets and wash across the glass…


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