Saturday, March 23, 2013

The Gun Control Conspiracy

Before December I was somewhat not "fully" aware of gun issues, but the very next day after Newtown I got a lot more aware. First I'd like to say, even though a gun-owner, Sandy Hook was just as upsetting to me as anyone else, and I did shed a few tears every time I saw the story. Now, in Mid-March, I'm tending to get sick of liberals continuing to rehash and push that story to further their agenda, which, in the end, is first registration (through that crafty extended universal background check) and then confiscation of all guns.

Long before that mass shooting I was working on a new novel about the Illuminati, who, according to conspiracy theorists, are the real power behind the government and the top corporations, and, believe me, there are a ton of theories out there. One of the articles I read linked the Illuminati to the mass shootings. That short article--didn't exactly change the plot of my book, but I did add it as a subplot.

Think of it, if you look at all the mass shootings, the perpetrators are all mentally unstable, which doesn't exactly help law enforcement when they are trying to piece evidence and trails together. And then there's the ones who commit suicide, which prevents an interview and turns most of the trail cold.

In my book I fully blame the Illuminati, but who are the Illuminati? They are the people with money and power. I think there are some people (in this country and the world) who so want registration and eventual confiscation of all guns so bad that they would seek out these mentally unstable boys and "brainwash" them to do their bidding.

Wow, did I just accuse a whole bunch of elected politicians of a conspiracy? In a word, YES. I truly believe there is a conspiracy going on and somebody, something, evil, deadly, dangerous, is out there chipping away at our very freedoms, not just of gun ownership, that's only first; after guns it will be freedom of speech, assembly, religion, you name it. A liberal will just grin and say that couldn't happen in America. Well, Mr. Grinning Liberal, it is happening right now, right here in front of your unwilling to see blind eyes.

The young man at a Florida university, James Oliver Seevakumaran, 30, is the latest, that I know of. He, thank God, didn't get to carry out his mission because his roommate saw him holding a gun, locked himself in the bathroom, and called 911. And before the cops could get there Mr. Seevakumaran committed suicide. Good for him. I say he was brainwashed to turn the gun on himself; maybe the sound of approaching sirens were the cue-click on his brain.

Recently what happened in Colorado kind of seals my theory: The people behind this conspiracy to control guns want their "way" so bad that they hired a professional hit man to gun down Tom Clement, just appointed to the Colorado Department of Corrections. No suicide there: That guy, I suspect, is gone and will never be found. Hours later the Colorado Governor signed into law some tough new gun regulations. Was the governor considering veto before that shooting? Good question.

I know: Some politicians (governors, state & federal senators & representatives) are feeling terrible pressure right now to do something, so they are blaming guns and creating laws that will affect only the private, law-abiding, citizen. Criminals and the conspirators are laughing their asses off.

Think of it: What if the liberals, or the UN, or the Illuminati--or whoever/whatever power source is behind this gun-grab--get their way and we eventually face confiscation. I'm not saying it will happen next month or even next year, but, really, think about it. Who would do the actual confiscating? The army, probably. Seventeen to twenty-year-old young men and women: Sons and daughters and brothers and sisters: Americans all. In the military service one is required to follow orders. I won't go any farther into this scenario; I don't want to even think about what would/could happen next.

Gun-confiscation has already happened: New Orleans after Katrina. Here is a 20-minute link that includes a video (I know, it's a long video, but worth watching, especially for people on the fence, not yet having decided to go left or right.) (The grinning liberals will probably say the video was a scene from a movie. Well, the New Orleans police chief was media footage.) Troops Ordered To Kill All Americans Who Do Not Turn In Guns Please spread the Word. http://www.infowars.com/un-gun-grab-follows-state-department-plan/ http://dosfan.lib.uic.edu/ERC/arms/freedom_war.html http://www.inf..
.
In the end I would like to offer another link (much shorter, and much more important to watch) to the best 7-minute speech about gun control that I have ever heard. The man's name is Bill Whittle, the virtual President. Just type the name into Google; he's everywhere, but I will include the link here too. Notice when the camera zooms in on a certain liberal, Schumer, of New York, I believe. On his face is a sarcastic, nonbelieving, smirking, grin.  http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=Bill+Whittle+&qs=n&form=QBVR&pq=bill+whittle+&sc=8-13&sp=-1&sk#x0y0
Thanks for reading, folks, and please, try to share this link with all the gun-owners you know.

Contact

nelsonjamesw@hotmail.com                            email
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http://morninginapril.weebly.com                      Website & Blog
https://www.facebook.com/#!/                         Facebook
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Feel free to contact me. (Response is not guaranteed) (The world is full of psychos and wackos)

A reminder for when you go to Amazon to read digital books, mine and many other authors: Amazon has a free APP download that allows you to read your book on any electronic device, including PC, Mac, iPad, iPhone, Android, and Blackberry.

Prices vary from $0.99-$2.99.

Occasionally I list one of my books as free for a  day, sometimes more than a day. Look for those announcements on my blog, HubPages, Twitter, and Facebook

 One last thing: When you visit my website, please check out the Freebies page.

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Crusty Quotes & Words of Wisdom from Samuel Hatwell, Esquire, from the novel Winter in July, a Nuclear War Drama

Kirby Yates is the viewpoint character in this novel, Winter in July, a nuclear war drama. The aged Samuel Hatwell doesn't appear much, but when he does he owns the stage. All of us "sprouts" need a man or woman--a seer, like Samuel--to talk to when we need to know what's what in the world. Most of us, in the real world, aren't so fortunate.

From Chapter 6 Samuel Hatwell, Esquire:
"Course I don't claim the talk-radio fellers're right, either, liberal or conservative." Hatwell settled back in his chair, "Mostly they jist like'ta argue with the nut-cases who call in.

"In fact, 'bout all through the last twenty or more years folks haven’t talked 'bout it.  Treatin’ nuc’ler war like it don’t exist anymore, like all them radical world leaders were all good fellas all of a sudden."  Hatwell spoke slowly, choosing his words, "We buried our heads in the sand, boy, while them radicals buried research facil’ties an' fact’ries an' launch pads in sand'n'rock."

     "I don't know, and neither do the talk-radio people, and neither do the pol’ticians.  'Bout the only ones who know're the ones who've got it."

     "Nearest targets're the silos, 'bout fifty or sixty or more mile from me.  We'd hear'em hit all right, an' we'd def'nitely see some almighty flashes.  An’ even If’n the missiles didn't hit right on target—an' they're damnable ac'rate—their still gonna be a mite too far away."

"They blew’em all right, least some of’em, maybe even most of’em, at least they say they did, but maybe some sensible pol’tician, or more likely a combat-hardened gen'rul said'Whoa.'"

"I don't know much 'bout the after-effects, son.  But their comin' all right.  Folks don't want'ta believe that.  I don't know when, but their comin.'"


From Chapter 7  80 Acres of Paradise
     "My dad homesteaded it back in the thirties."  Hatwell began preening his beard, stepped to the edge of steepness, then gazed toward the far expanses, probably remembering those long gone days, "I still say 'the thirties' as if we're still livin' in the twentieth century."  A hesitation, "But we ain't.  We're in the grand third millennium now, the great days we been waitin' fer a thousand years fer.  But it's no greater'n the twentieth century.  Now there was a great century.  But we'll never see it again."

"Reckon this here piece's one'a the last in the state'ta be homesteaded.  At that time nobody wanted it.  Times since I could'a sold it fer many, many, times its value."

"People'd come in here with a bulldozer."  Hatwell gripped his beard tightly, was staring far out and away, "They'd want'ta build a real house, an' they'd want a gravel road leadin' right up here'ta'a garage, an' they'd have'ta level off half the hill'ta get here.  Naw, I'd never let 'nuther human bein' ever come here'ta live."


"Ya might not have'a lot'a time'ta think 'bout this, Kirby."  Hatwell's face went stonily sober, "I'd get it decided a'tween ya, an' get it done with, an' then I'd get my butts on out here."  

(One of three paragraphs, Kirby's viewpoint.) Finally he located the sound, then estimated it would be behind a spongy-looking, super-huge, gray-white cloud.  He watched intently, straining his eyes till they watered.  Then he saw it, shadowy against a patch of pearly sky.  The cream-colored belly of a B-52 bomber, harbinger of nuclear bombs.

"They use this airspace fer their trainin' all the time."  Hatwell said it without emotion, "Reckon they must figure this here sandhill real estate ain't too 'xpensive, or important, should one of'em crash.  Or drop somethin'."

(Again, Kirby's viewpoint.) "What is it?"  Colleen leaned back, her head also bumping the window, "Oh, it's an airliner.  It's pretty against the blue sky."

     Yes, true, very pretty.  He looked at her, saw her innocence by ignorance.  She could not really, truly, have comprehended the idea of nuclear war yet.  

(The crusty Samuel will appear in two more chapters.)
Link to the Kindle edition:  $0.99  http://www.amazon.com/Winter-in-July-ebook/dp/B004WTULAO/ref=la_B004GW465S_1_3_title_1_kin?ie=UTF8&qid=1363634721&sr=1-3

Link to the paperback edition:  $15.00  http://www.amazon.com/Winter-July-world-James-Nelson/dp/1460996003/ref=la_B004GW465S_1_3_title_0_main?ie=UTF8&qid=1363634912&sr=1-3

Thanks for reading

Contact

nelsonjamesw@hotmail.com                             email
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004GW465S      Author page at Amazon
http://morninginapril.weebly.com                     Website & Blog
https://www.facebook.com/#!/                          Facebook
http://subron7.hubpages.com/                          HubPages

Feel free to contact me. (Response is not guaranteed) (The world is full of psychos and wackos)

A reminder for when you go to Amazon to read digital books, mine and many other authors: Amazon has a free APP download that allows you to read your book on any electronic device, including PC, Mac, iPad, iPhone, Android, and Blackberry.

Prices vary from $0.99-$2.99.

Occasionally I list one of my books as free for a  day, sometimes more than a day. Look for those announcements on my blog, HubPages, Twitter, and Facebook

One last thing: When you visit my website, please check out the Freebies page.

Friday, March 15, 2013

Taxes, Until Death do us Part

Back in early 2012 some folks in North Dakota got up in arms about paying property taxes (in other words: Paying rent to live in their own house) so they wrote up a petition, got enough signatures, and got it approved to go on the June ballot.

The Powers-that-be did not want to lose their power to spend other peoples' money. I consider the 'Powers-that-be' are people able to hire lawyers and accountants to get them out of paying property taxes, or use property taxes to get them out of paying other taxes. Whatever, so began a struggle back and forth with articles and letters-to-the-editor for and against--as they named it--Measure 2.

The Forum, Fargo, North Dakota, has two political cartoonists. One of them compared Measure 2 to #2, what happens in the bathroom. I didn't think that was very classy, sent a letter-to-the-editor, told them what I thought, and whoever runs the Opinion page must have agreed, as my letter was published.

The 'Powers-that-be' must have gotten scared that we (the Measure 2 proponents) were going to win, for the 'Powers-that-be' went around the state--and out-of-state--and collected all kinds of money to advertise against us. To name the two largest contributors: $103,225, ND Association of Realtors, Bismarck (GROWTH Powers-that-be,) and $100,000, National Education Association, Washington, DC. (I have to wonder where their money came from...Taxes?) There were several others. The Powers-that-be ended up with $600,000. (Us proponents with $10-$50 donations, collected $21,760.) And guess what? When they started to use that money to put out scare-tactic television advertising--similar to what's going on today with the White House saying how bad this sequestration is going to be--yeah, we lost by a large margin.

So I don't forget , AARP, The National Association of Retired Persons, also Washington, DC, donated $20,000. Strange, I thought the AARP was an organization for helping the senior citizen, not going against them. Why do I say that? Because many senior citizens end up on just social security to pay their bills: A fixed income, right? One of the letters-to-the-editor brought out the fact that no little old ladies were being thrown out in the street. Well, that letter should have set us all straight.

He's probably right. I don't have the statistics, although I'm sure there are some. (People do lose their home to unpaid taxes.) The important thing here is that other fact: 'Fixed' income. So they weren't thrown into the street, but they also probably ended up not having much extra money to spend in their retirement. Then there's the senior citizen homestead credit discount after they're 65, but what about those years reaching 65? It can be a battle. 

I signed that Measure 2 petition and wrote several other letters-to-the-editor. Some didn't get published. I wonder why. I didn't name-call. I made sure they were all short. But then our main regional newspaper, The Forum, Fargo, ND, stood solidly with the 'Powers-that-be.' That could be one reason.

That brings us up to date. Right now North Dakota is awash in new tax revenue. The western part of the state is being fracked and fracked and fracked, for oil. (They are talking thousands more drill sites.) And we have no real idea how that 'fracking' is affecting our ground water--I mean, come on! That water, with some kind of chemical in it is being forced underground to somehow get the oil out. Well, we don't know what it's doing down there. Is it just staying where we put it, or does it, as water does, start moving to who knows where? The area, population-wise, is growing frantically; it's going to need good water. The thing is, we need oil for power, but do we have to get it all out of the ground right NOW? And sell it right NOW? What about the future, meaning just a few years down the road? I don't mean decades or generations...but years. Oh yeah, the oil companies want to drill in the Killdeer Mountains too. I wonder how long Theodore Roosevelt National Park will be spared?

But, of course, the 'Powers-that-be' love the population-growth. It means more people to pay taxes, it means hiring more people to provide services to all that population-growth, and that requires even more taxes, and more growth, and more population, etc., etc., ETC! You see, as humankind sees it today, only 'growth' supports the economy. We haven't yet learned to do it any other way.

But, this post is not about 'growth' and what fracking for oil is doing to our environment.

It's about taxes, and how to spend all that money. I'm serious! Our legislators and local officials, and letter writers, all have ideas how to spend that money. I mean--my god! We've got it, we have to spend it! One legislator wanted to build our governor a new governor's mansion. Well, good old Republican Governor Jack Dalrymple put the brakes to that, saying the house was fine as is. Good for him!

I do have to give some of the legislators credit, though, as property tax relief is in the mix. So some of that money will go to help home owners pay their property taxes. But The Forum has already came out on the front page "Out with the old, in with the new?" That's the headline. The meat of the article was whether to build new schools or fix the old ones. I mean, in this country we don't seem to be able to build something to last more than a few decades. And, of course they aren't going to repair anything! That would embarrass the kids, and, worse, embarrass the parents. They want those architecturally-designed new schools to outshine their neighbor's schools.

So here's what's going to happen: Sure, some home owners will get a some temporary property tax relief, but that oil-tax money will NOT go on forever. In the meantime we will spend and spend and spend, mostly on schools: New schools, new coliseum-size gymnasiums, unnecessary feel-good courses and new teachers to teach those new courses, etc., ETC!  Then, when the oil tax revenue ends, we will be right back where we started, only worse, because all that newness needs to keep going as is. The county will immediately send their assessors right back out to knock on the doors of property owners and increase their property taxes beyond what they ever were before!

So, people of North Dakota, let's not wait for that scenario to happen. Let's get a petition going again and, this time, let's us go outside the state, too, and gather up some of that 'outside' money. Surely there's other people out there in other states who agree that property taxes are beyond out-of-control. Some will remember what happened in North Dakota in 2012 because our fight made national news, and if they don't know about the outside-of-state money barons that helped cause our defeat, we will tell them.

Now comes the gist of this post: What's known as the 'Fair Tax.' The link takes us to a video discussing that very simple tax but only talks about replacing 'income' tax, but it could replace property tax too. http://www.fairtax.org/site/PageServer. The key idea here is that EVERYBODY pays! No lawyers needed. You save up enough money to buy something, be it a new saw or a new home, you pay federal sales tax on it and it's yours forever! Everybody should be able to earn as much money as they can, buy what they want when they can afford to, plus the sales tax but then they OWN it! No more paying rent to live in your own home! Once you own it--it's YOURS!

And think of it: No more IRS! Of course there would have to be a bureau of some sort to deal with tax money, but it wouldn't need to be a behemoth like the IRS.

And here's where I'll end this post on taxes, for now.

Thanks for reading
Contact

nelsonjamesw@hotmail.com                          email
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004GW465S   Author page at Amazon
http://morninginapril.weebly.com                   Website & Blog
https://www.facebook.com/#!/                         Facebook
http://subron7.hubpages.com/                          HubPages

Feel free to contact me. (Response is not guaranteed) (The world is full of psychos and wackos)

A reminder for when you go to Amazon to read digital books, mine and many other authors: Amazon has a free APP download that allows you to read your book on any electronic device, including PC, Mac, iPad, iPhone, Android, and Blackberry.

Prices vary from $0.99-$2.99.

Occasionally I list one of my books as free for a  day, sometimes more than a day. Look for those announcements on my blog, HubPages, Twitter, and Facebook

One last thing: When you visit my website, please check out the Freebies page.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Callipygia, A State of Mind

Callipygia is a place, or maybe just a state of mind, for if you go there, and partake, you will become changed...forever.

Stephanie Daniels, 28, journalist for the Sheyenne Eagle, asks only for a home, a job, a little fun once-in-awhile and someone who truly loves her. Her insensitive boyfriend, Billy, does not. Lately, women have been on her mind, a lot she finally comes to realize. Her editor, Norm, sends her to the South Dakota Black Hills, where a large number of women have disappeared. Rumor has a lesbian sex slave camp hidden in the forest.
After 2 months she has no good leads. She's becoming discouraged when Megan appears and takes her to Callipygia, a place with a humanistic goal but questionable methods. Out of contact with her editor, Stephanie soon finds herself responsible for two pregnant women, and wondering if her job still awaits her.
Free download at Amazon Saturday & Sunday, March 9-10
Contact information and review from an Amazon reader at end of post.
If you like short fiction, please remember to check the freebies page.
Prologue

Stephanie Daniels felt her mouth fall open. She had just received the shock of her young life.

“We want to create a more sensitive society,” Megan added.

My God. Stephanie’s mind flew to the interviewed men with stories of being used as studs. She had believed them, yes, at least believed that they really believed it, but had also sometimes considered them quite humorous and chauvinistic. Stud service. What a laugh. But no longer.

“Oh, we aren’t like Hitler—“ Megan began.

“Why aren’t you? Do the men have a choice in the matter?”

“Well, not really. But we don’t force them, exactly.”

“My God, Megan,” Stephanie pushed away, “Meg, I can’t stay here.” She moved to the tent flap, wriggled her way through, and then fully realized she was in deep forest with no idea which direction to go.She hadn’t even kept track of their direction yesterday. Just not thinking clearly at all.

“I can’t let you leave, Steph,” Megan appeared at the tent flap, dragging her backpack.

“You can’t stop me, Meg.”

“Yes, I can.” Megan slipped through the tent opening, reached into her backpack, and produced a very small handgun, “You must not leave, Steph.” She introduced a cylinder to the barrel and began twisting it on.

Excerpt from Chapter 6 Interviews (Asterisks denote words missing, for brevity.)****
She also had interviewed all but one of the men abducted by the legendary Dakota Amazons, by phone and most also in person. Eleven in all, six bachelors, five married, all well-built specimens of the male half of the species, and all upstanding citizens. Whatever that meant. Oh yes, and all perfect gentlemen.
****
Today the last interviewee and the most recently abducted.
****
With sober face and one more glance behind him, the man pushed through the outside door, appeared to look at himself in the reflective glass, and brushed his hair. Oh yes, meeting an unknown woman he wanted to look his best. Hmmm. Maybe not so censurable. Had their roles been switched Stephanie guessed she would have brushed at her hair too.

Even so she had to stifle a chuckle, and took another quick breath through her nose. What was happening to her? Was she beginning to hate all men? Hate was not the word she didn't think, but the interviews with all the men, not just the abductees, had opened her eyes. Most had hit on her, and all had appeared self-serving, stuck on themselves, just plain hot shit. But hate them?
****
"Ms. Daniels?" The man stopped at her booth.

"Yes." She grabbed her napkin and swept it over her mouth, cleared her throat, stood, extended her hand, "Ramsey?"

"Yes. Ramsey." He gripped her hand.

It was warm. Soft. She wondered if he did any physical work, then chided herself for wondering something that had nothing to do with the subject of the interview ."You said on the phone that I don’t have to reveal my last name."

"No, of course not." Why wouldn’t you want to? Do you have something to hide? Are you an asshole? She again chided herself for the unprofessional thoughts. What was wrong with her? This man was a gentleman, and so damn good-looking, "Please, sit down, Ramsey."
****
Their coffee arrived in a quart-sized covered pitcher, then their food. Likely the waitress wouldn't approach again unless asked, so Stephanie made her request, "So, Ramsey, would you tell me of your experience, please?"

"You mean with the Amazons…."

Did a smirk, or something, cross his face? She supposed so, and it probably was harmless. After all, depending on how one looked at it, a great deal of humor could be seen in what had happened to him. "Yes, I believe we're referring to the same thing."

Well," he rolled his eyes and glanced at the ceiling, then shook his head. Two short shakes to each side, something she had seen Billy-boy do when describing women he had met during his short jobs, another subtle way of putting her down. She guessed what was coming from Ramsey. "This great-looking babe walks into my office one day—I'm in real estate—and says she's interested in buying a small rural property."

"Can you describe her?" Stephanie removed a pen and notebook from her purse.

"Yeah, fabulous brunette curls, clear down, uh—oh, several inches below her shoulders, really great-looking hair."

She could feel him looking at her own hair, which was curled rather nicely that day, she thought, but she didn't look up, "Anything else?"

"She was about, oh, five-feet-eight or nine, slim, but no way was she skinny. No way."

Stephanie looked up. The man appeared lost in thought. "What about her clothing? Dress? Jeans? Business suit?"

"Sorry." He looked sad, like he felt he had really lost something, "I don't remember…, not a dress, but, she did look professional."

"But nothing more about her appearance?"

"No, nothing…, just that she was so…” He let out a shallow breath, his eyes looked wet for a second or two, “Well, you know…."

"All right. She came in, then what?"

"We didn't talk long. She said she had some other errands to take care of, but could we talk further at her motel? And, of course, that was all right with me."

Of course. Stephanie no longer wondered if the man was married or single. She wouldn't want him.

"I guess it did occur to me to wonder if I might be getting picked up. But hell, I'm single, and there was a possible sale in the offing, so, yes, I went to her motel."

At this point in the men’s stories Stephanie had always just as soon not heard the rest, but knew something different could possibly come to light so she never stopped the men from telling all.

"She met me at the door dressed in the whitest, sheerest, negligee I ever hope to see in this life. I mean, I thought I had died and gone to heaven."

"What about right then, Ramsey? You still don't remember anything else about her appearance?"

"She had red lips, and I think they were natural. I mean I think she wore no makeup at all, just like under the negligee. Nothing. A natural beauty." He shook his head, "But by now I was drooling, Ms. Daniels." But his face had gone serious, "I admit it. I was taken for a ride. But her sex appeal was simply overwhelming. The only thing I remember for certain is that she was beautiful."

His demeanor had changed. Stephanie suspected that he did feel some guilt and remorse, not that he thought he had done anything wrong. Well, not that she thought so either, exactly. But that he had allowed his hormones to go completely into overdrive. Maybe he wasn't such a terrible guy after all.

"I did show her some available properties, and we did discuss them. But it wasn't long till she just asked point blank if I wanted to go to bed with her." He seemed genuinely embarrassed.

"And then?"

"Well, I just peeled off my clothes and jumped into bed with her. And that's the last time I saw her face. Hell, I don't even remember the prick of the needle, and my adrenalin was already racing so hard that I barely remember the jet ride."

"Jet ride?"

"Yeah, speed. High-speed adrenalin. You know, barbiturates. Haven't you ever been put to sleep in a hospital, for surgery?"

"No, I guess I haven't."

"You have an experience to look forward to then. It's like a motor racing, it's like your head becomes part of the engine, it's like a first kiss, a first love."

Now Stephanie knew. She had experienced that ride, but so far back, definitely not with Billy, and wondered if she would ever experience it again.

"But, about to kiss that gorgeous babe I was already on the jet ride, so when the needle hit," he opened both hands and arms, "Well, I just considered it part of the ride."

So basically the man was human. He had been taken advantage of, gotten his genes stolen, and then got dumped on a lonely country road. With more compassion she listened to the remainder of his story. Waking up, handcuffed, blindfolded, a blood draw, then he walked to a vehicle, got a ride to somewhere, then he had to walk again, then the needle again, and another jet ride. Then later waking up, strapped down and still blindfolded. No voices except to give him orders .'Get up.' 'Walk.’ He swore being prodded with a gun barrel. 'Remove your clothes.’ ‘All of them.’ 'Lie down.’  'Get an erection—' "I couldn't believe it." He laughed, very human-sounding, "I mean, what did these babes think? That I could just do that? Because they told me to?"

"So you didn't?"

"Oh, I did all right. It's not like I was fearing for my life or anything, even if that was a gun in my ribs."

"So you did."

"Yeah. But I got a little help, ya know? With a mouth," he took a breath, glanced away for a second, "I just hope that mouth was feminine. But I have no reason to think there were any males around. After I got," his eyes stared for a second, his head nodded forward, twice, his lips tightened, "the erection, they greased me good. Then I could feel another person climbing onto whatever I was laying on. Goddamn it, it better have been a woman." He took another breath, his eyes got fixed again, he looked down, "I hope it was that gorgeous brunette."

He got quiet then, put his hand over his mouth, continued to stare, glanced out the window, then went on, "And I had an orgasm all right." He laughed, slightly, "I've never gone in for bondage things like that, at least I assume that sort of thing would be called bondage." He glanced at her, as if she—a journalist, or was it because she was a woman?—should know.

"Yes, Ramsey, I would say, probably, bondage."

"Anyway, being blindfolded, tied down, helpless, well, it was the most explosive orgasm I've ever had." Again he got quiet, then finally went on to tell he remembered one hand-fed meal, a gentle feminine voice from the one feeding him, then a walk, "It was through woods, that I can guarantee you."

"How so?"

"Smells. I can't say what I smelled, but it was woods for certain sure, and quite a ways, miles anyway. And then another ride, and then they opened the door, told me to get out, then untied me and told me to leave the blindfold on—Oh, yeah, and then she poured beer all over me, even in my hair. Cripes….”"

"Did anyone ever hurt you?"

"No. Except for the needle, which didn't hurt that much, and then of course my pride."

Of course. "So how do you feel about your experience, Ramsey?" Stephanie leaned toward him, "I mean how do you really feel?" She hoped he would say something profound.

He didn't. "Well, hell, all they had to do was ask. I would have given my sperm to all of'em, if that's all they wanted. They didn't have to kidnap me."

Of course not." Would you press charges, if you could?"

No hesitation, "No. She—they, whoever they were—gave me the greatest orgasm ever."

And that was how all the interviews had gone. Even men not abducted—but had heard about her interviews—had sounded like they wished they would have been. One even volunteered his genes. That was, if she ever broke the story, and the women—whoever they were—still wanted men. But Stephanie doubted the women—whoever they were—would ever call for volunteers.

****

And each little contact she had with a man added to that change she felt growing inside her. That change she still refused to acknowledge, again, even in the privacy of her own mind.  But it was there, in her subconscious. And she knew it involved desiring women over men. And she knew that some occurrence, the meeting of some certain person, some woman, would bring everything—including honesty to herself—crashing from her subconscious. Whether she was ready, or not.

At least she was beginning to find herself hoping something like that would happen. And soon.
End of chapter
Excerpt from Chapter 20 Hesper's Welcome
****"So you want to be a Callipygian." Hesper's question seemed to Stephanie like a blunt statement.

"Well, I don't think I've said that, exactly."

"Oh?" Hesper's right eyebrow raised, but the gaze remained steady, lips closed.

She suspected the woman could be quite pretty if she would just smile. "I don't mean I wouldn't. I just need to know more."

"You do know that just women live here."

"Yes."

"Do you think that's somewhat strange?"

"Not really. I've had my own problems with men, most of my life, really." Stephanie thought for a second. All her life, "So I guess I can survive without them for awhile."

"I hope so. Because it will take some time before we'll—that is, I—before I will trust you enough to let you go back into the world, for sure if you want to go alone. Have you thought about that?"

"I didn't when Megan first told me about you here, but I guess I have since."

"How strongly? Do you consider yourself a prisoner?"

"Somewhat."

"You are, Stephanie. Although I don't care for that word." Hesper gazed at her quite calmly. Stephanie could only consider it a study, an examination of her own expressions, a body language study, "I would rather use the word 'guest,' and I'd rather you did too. And who knows? You might even come to really like it here."
****
"Are you a lesbian, Stephanie?"

She barely could believe what she heard, "What?"

Hesper faced her, "I said, 'Are you a lesbian?'"

"I…," one palm opened, then closed, "No."

"You aren't sure, are you?"

"No." Stephanie looked at the floor.

"How long have you had, oh, different feelings?"

"I don't know. Maybe all my life. But more recently, and more strongly, about a year."

"And you have no doubt of different feelings, do you?"

"No."

"That's very honest, Stephanie. You've probably never been spoken to like this before, have you?"

"No." She shook her head and faced Hesper again. She felt trust for Hesper inching into her.

"Have you ever really, truly, loved a man?"

"I…I don't think so." Stephanie shook her head negatively, heard and felt the catch in her own voice.

"How do you feel about lesbians?"

"I don't know. I do know I don't look down on them."

"That's commendable." Hesper kept up her quiet gaze, "Do you think we're all a bunch of lesbians here?"

"No, I mean, I don't know. It's none of my business."

"But it is, Stephanie, if you're going to live here. Aren't you afraid of being raped by a woman, even gang-raped?"

"I don't know how much that happens, out in the world, but I'm sure it does not happen here."

"You're right. It doesn't happen here. And as far as 'Are we lesbians?' I don't know that either. But women do love each other here." Hesper continued with her quiet gaze, a calm study again, as if body language, "Not officially. That's not why we're here, but I do know it's happening.

"Megan joined our original group last," Hesper went on, "She knew about our plans for Callipygia from the first, but only came early last summer. I guess she thought she could do more for women in her shelter. But it's a losing battle out there, Stephanie. Shelters can have secret locations but husbands can still find their wives, and even with restraining orders men can still get close enough to murder their wives." Hesper hesitated, maybe remembering her own losing battle as an abused wife, "When Megan arrived she asked for that room next to the corner, and nobody has lived next to her. I know what she went through with her husband but that's not my place to tell you. What I'm saying, Stephanie, is that if you and Megan are together, or get together, in whatever way, you don't have to worry. It's only the business of the two of you."
****
 She started for the door.

"One last thing, Stephanie."

She stopped and turned, "Yes?"

"We have a manual typewriter. I hope it'll be suitable."

"I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Good."

Stephanie started to turn, but felt more was coming, so hesitated.

"I don't for one minute believe that you are simply a lost little girl, Stephanie, as Megan seems to believe. You may truly be running away, but you are not what you seem." Hesper again gave her that quiet gaze. Not a hint of a smile, "Time, and actions, will tell. See you at supper."
End of Chapter
Excerpt from Chapter 24 Reflection

****
And Megan. Just beyond the bathroom door. She could hear her doing things, occasionally, making little noises. Would they get together tonight? Did Megan want to? Had she ever wanted to? Stephanie thought about all the things that had happened in the last…my god, only a little over two days had passed since their meeting in that bar. So much had happened. For sure they had come close to necking a few times. Was that all Megan wanted? What about the night in the tent? That had seemed so unreal. No. Megan wanted everything too, same as Stephanie. She was sure.

But that one thing Megan had done. That had frightened her in a way that also seemed unreal, so unreal was the thing Megan did. The gun seemed unreal too, and so small. To fit Megan. But Megan had held it, not at her, but one tiny movement could have changed that. But Megan had not had to make a decision because Adrienne arrived. Would Megan have shot her? Killed her?

Did Megan believe in the goals of Callipygia so strongly that she would have shot her? Maybe in some abstract way she could have. Of course, abstract or not, the bullet would have been real. The occurrence left a tight little spot that she had felt all day, and short flashbacks that she tried to ignore. Abstract and unreal. Like a hazy dream she didn't really want to remember, yet couldn't forget.

All right. So she couldn't forget, but could accept. It happened, and nothing happened. And it would not stop something from happening tonight.

But she should finish her bath so Megan could have hers, or morning would come and nothing will have happened. She had taken a shower, so the washing part was over.
****
The drain gurgled. She grasped the towel, a big, plush royal blue one, and began drying herself, feeling her body beneath the soft cotton. Yes, fuller. No ribs sticking out. Buttocks tight. Breasts and nipples, OK. Legs, not bony anymore. Face…she looked in the wall mirror over the sink. Her face was bright, even radiant. Hair, wet, but would dry. Hair dryers must have been one luxury item that Hesper's dad drew the line on. She didn't blame him.

She wiped her feet one at a time and stepped out, and again looked in the mirror. She let the towel hang. She looked fine. She swallowed.

Close. Ready.

 She walked to Megan's door, tapped lightly, opened it a crack, spoke softly, "Meg, I'm finished." What else to say? Nothing. If Megan didn't know by then….

"OK, Steph, thanks." Megan's voice came softly too, "I'll be in later…to, say good night. All right?"

"Yes. I'll wait for you."

The butterflies and bluebirds came streaking back, only ten times as many, and all clamoring to be heard. Megan would come. Stephanie's next thoughts could not quite make it to the surface. But she knew what those thoughts were, and knew what she wanted.

Tonight. It would happen.
****
Excerpt from Chapter 34 Kill!****
Stephanie's eyes slammed open. Where was she? Cold, for damn sure, but mostly on her bottom, her nose, her back a little. She was outside. Yes, among boulders, sitting atop pine boughs. She blinked. Still dark. She blinked again. Something above the boulders. Something she didn't think was there earlier, before they went to sleep. But what? Moving? She blinked again, then held her eyes closed, then opened again, slowly, suddenly fearing what was there.

Yes. Moving—heads! Getting bigger! She heard the click beside her, then felt Megan throwing off their blanket, then came that terrible sound beside her--right beside her—and fire, orange-red flames leaping from beside her—and screaming. Prudence screaming, torn from her sleep. Herself screaming, torn from her very senses.

The heads disappeared. Megan leaped up, ejected the spent magazine, slammed in another, locked and loaded. Then she scrambled onto the boulder, peered over, then made another movement on the mechanisms on the rifle, causing a different-sounding click. Then she aimed, fired, aimed again and fired, then stood for a few seconds, watching, finally jumped back down among them, "We have to move! Now!"
****

Review

3.0 out of 5 stars Well written, but graphic. Interesting main character, August 14, 2012
By P. Eddy (Seattle) (REAL NAME) I really want half stars... I'd definitely bump this up a half star.

It's well written. The visualization is beautiful. But as a woman, I felt some of the descriptions of the sex was... well... written by a man. Does that mean it wasn't good? Not at all. But I was just aware that I felt it was written by a man. As it's a book about (largely) lesbian relationships, this rang a little for me. At the same time, the way in which it was written also helped offset some of the darker parts of the book. So I wouldn't necessarily categorize this as a negative, but more just as a note. "It is what it is."

I also wasn't totally impressed by the main character's choices in life. I felt like many of her choices were only to further the story, and not choices she'd actually make. She went along with things without question, and as a journalist, I feel like she should have questioned things more. However, at the same time, she was also going through some major life issues, and so I'm chalking her choices up to that. We didn't get enough of her backstory up front. However, that's one of those issues that I'm willing to forgive, if the story is good enough.

That said, the story was excellent. There's a lot of sex and violence in the book, as well as sexual violence. So potential readers should be aware of this. But there is also a lot of love and hope. It highlights some of the horrible parts of this world, and tries to present a solution to them, and even though the solution isn't perfect, and in fact, has major problems of its own, the characters believe it is the right solution.

I would read more from this author.
From the author: "I don't agree this is a book about "lesbians;" the women have simply never found good love with a man."
Contents
1  Assignment                                 33 Into the Forest
2  Quicksilver by Greyhound         34 Kill!
3  Her Story                                    35 Cold & Wet
4  Rape & Kill                                 36 Ambush!
5  Running                                      37 Experiment Postponed
6  Interviews
7  Conspiracy
8  Megan
9  The Ranch
10 Little Girl's Room
11 Her Fantasy
12 Wilderness Hike
13 New Beginning
14 Adrienne
15 Callipygia
16 Camp
17 Arrival
18 Hesper
19 Her own Room
20 Hesper's Welcome
21 Lorena
22 Callipygia's Welcome
23 Impregnation & Termination
24 Reflection
25 The Loving Scene
26 The Love Scene
27 Sugar & Spice
28 Confession & compassion
29 Sugar & Spice Returned
30 Morning & Consequences
31 Initiation & Deceit
32 Callipygian Christmas Card

Thanks for reading

Contact

nelsonjamesw@hotmail.com                          email
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004GW465S   Author page at Amazon
http://morninginapril.weebly.com                   Website & Blog
http://morninginapril.blogspot.comBlog
https://www.facebook.com/#!/                         Facebook
http://subron7.hubpages.com/                          HubPages

Feel free to contact me. (Response is not guaranteed) (The world is full of psychos and wackos)
A reminder for when you go to Amazon to read digital books, mine and many other authors: Amazon has a free APP download that allows you to read your book on any electronic device, including PC, Mac, iPad, iPhone, Android, and Blackberry.
Prices vary from $0.99-$2.99.
Occasionally I list one of my books as free for a  day, sometimes more than a day. Look for those announcements on my blog, HubPages, Twitter, and Facebook

One last thing: When you visit my website, please check out the Freebies page.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Seth MacFarlane, the Epitome of Jerk: An Opinion

Every once-in-awhile, something so irritates me that I just cannot keep my mouth shut, but I have never taken on a Hollywood celebrity. After Oscars-night maybe he won't be such a celebrity. We can hope. I've already heard that he has said he won't host again--Thank God!  Maybe some of his peers told him what they really thought of that cute little song and dance of his about boobs.'Did MacFarlane write his own act, his own jokes, his whole routine? Did an editor look beforehand? I doubt it. I imagine once someone reaches the pinnacle of being host of the Oscars, whoever's in charge assumes that person understands something about honor and respect for fellow human beings.

I didn't even watch the Oscars. I would have liked to. I appreciate seeing celebrities as much as most other people, but I really don't feel I can justify the time. And in this case I'm just as well pleased I wasn't watching, so, no, I didn't see MacFarlane's cute little song and dance live.

The next morning a friend shared the very short video on Facebook. I will never forget the faces of two of the women named in that song: Uncomfortable is not the word. And I have to wonder how it was that the camera was right there to capture the moment. Was it planned ahead-of-time to be zoomed in on these two women? A conspiracy of sorts? It sure looks like it. 

Yes, some women bare their breasts for a movie. I doubt they do it in order to give men a peek, but if the script calls for it they will. And I doubt they agree to do it without a lot of soul-searching. So they do it. They make the movie and I hope they get paid extra for that scene.

Then comes along an infantile host--evidently barely out of high school--out to make fun of them, except it wasn't fun.

Just so you, the reader, knows, I like seeing boobs as much as the next guy, but I like it in private with utmost respect for the woman sharing that beautiful part of herself.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Just 21 Years for Anders Breivik? An Opinion

Just 21 Years for Anders Breivik? An Opinion

For those who don't remember the mass murderer of Norway in July, 2011, that person was Anders Behring Breivik. The reason I'm bringing up the far back past is today the media is somehow linking Adam Lanza to Breivik, that Lanza was obsessed with Breivik's 77 murders and wanted to outdo him. That when Lanza broke into that school he was planning a much higher count.
That's where the title of this post comes in. The media said Breivik got 21 years for the murder of 77 people.
Come ON!
I'm not exactly a believer in capital punishment, for the reason of questionable witnesses being mistaken and sometimes outright lying about what they saw. Of course DNA should have taken care of that problem today. But the premeditated murder of 77 people? Especially that the man hunted and stalked those helpless teenagers on that island? Come ON, Norway, I realize you are probably one of the most liberal nations on earth, but if anybody deserved capital punishment it was Anders Behring Breivik.
The media announcement about 21 years ended with the thought that after those 21 years a judge would have the option of turning that animal loose. I doubt that will happen. Even liberal and naive Norway would know better than that. But think about it. What will the world be like in 21 years. People and laws will change. They might even come up with a drug to feed Breivik that will make him look like any other human being.
The truth is, he still wouldn't be...'like any other human being.'
No, he was guilty. The moment they caught him and had the trial--just for the paperwork--he should have gotten the needle, or a noose, or the chair, or a bullet, or the guillotine, or whatever other way Norway dispatches capital punishment, except I'm pretty sure Norway doesn't have capital punishment. Myself? I don't believe in putting a monster in jail just to punish him for 21 years...if there is absolutely no doubt, as in this case, I would put an end to that miserable life.
Photo has nothing to do with this post; just trying to show a little peace on earth.
Which brings us back to Adam Lanza.
The media also is saying--guessing maybe, as nothing official has yet been released--that Lanza also was obsessed with watching violent video games to sharpen his killing skill, that he would sit down in the basement in a darkened room for hours at a time practicing.
Did his mother--who often took her son with her to shooting ranges--have even a speck of a clue about where her son might be heading? Something we will never know.
I saw Breivick on television recently. He had the same stupid smirk on his face as Jared Loughner of Arizona and James Holmes of Colorado. Who ARE these people? What makes them tick? What makes their life so wretched and boring and empty that they turn to mass murder? Has nobody ever held them and loved them, at least when they were a child? More things we will never know.
All three probably think THEY are the victims, that the people they wanted to give them--the attention they thought they deserved--did not give it to them. So unnamed random people had to pay for the imagined trespasses against these three monsters.
In order to be fair to these three subhumans I just looked up the meaning of the word "monster" in the 1996 Oxford Dictionary and Thesaurus. I wanted to be sure I wasn't calling them something they really didn't deserve to be called. Here are the definitions in order:
--an imaginary creature, usu. large and frightening, compounded of incongruous elements.
--an inhumanly cruel or wicked person.
--a misshapen animal or plant.
--a large hideous animal or thing.
...that's enough.
These three at least are now behind bars, but there's more monsters out there, folks, among us, right now. There are mothers and fathers and uncles and aunts, brothers and sisters, and cousins, who fear there might be something wrong with...what's-his-name. No use giving a yet-unknown person a name.
Unfortunately, we have to wait for the crime to be committed.
Annnd, it just got committed: Another one in the paper today, 2-20-2013. Here's the headline from my local paper: "Fast moving California shooting spree leaves four dead." Tustin, California, Ali Syed, 20, first kills a woman in his home, then speeds away in his parents' car, then this little 20-year-old kills two more people during carjackings and shoots up the busy freeway. One man he marched to the curb and then shot him in the back of the head, executed him. Oh, then, of course, little Syed commited suicide.
Strange how these mass killers are either wacko or commit suicide. Either way the police can't get good information about them. Anyone else smell conspiracy? That somehow these mass shootings are being orchestrated by some evil power behind the scenes to turn the American public against anyone who owns a gun?


Thanks for reading

Contact

nelsonjamesw@hotmail.com                          email
http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004GW465S   Author page at Amazon
http://morningshinestories.com                       Website
http://morninginapril.blogspot.com                 Blog
https://www.facebook.com/#!/                         Facebook
http://subron7.hubpages.com/                          HubPages
Feel free to contact me. (Response is not guaranteed) (The world is full of psychos and wackos)
A reminder for when you go to Amazon to read digital books, mine and many other authors: Amazon has a free APP download that allows you to read your book on any electronic device, including PC, Mac, iPad, iPhone, Android, and Blackberry.
Prices vary from $0.99-$2.99.
Occasionally I list one of my books as free for a  day, sometimes more than a day. Look for those announcements on my blog, HubPages, Twitter, and Facebook