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WW2, in the back waters of the Caribbean.  A story that should probably remain untold . . . . ******************** ROGUE'S WAR Ch 1 -- Near Sainte Poutine, French Guadeloupe: It was past midnight and black as sin.  Majoor stood in the little flat-bottom boat and gazed downstream at the...

I haven't heard anything from Mike. Should I start looking over my shoulder? jim :)

Mised me! :0 jim

The Incredible Mr. Bobbit "Aren't you the famous Mr. Bobbit?" purred the buxom lass.  A river of blonde hair covered her shoulders while a clinging black dress set off other well-developed assets. Mr. Bobbit tried to avoid staring at the lady's cleavage -- a difficult task since he stood only...

I want to thank Mike for his review.  ;D  Thanks, Mike! His impressions are consistent with other reviews on the publisher's site.  I'm hoping the reviews will help convince a good agent to represent me with future books. Good sales help too!  For those who missed my announcement in Radio...

Bar Hound The first thing I noticed was the stink.  Burned jock straps smell like that.  Don't ask me how I know. Old Guy must have noticed my odd look.  "It's brimstone."  I was glad I hadn't blurted out anything concerning torched jock straps.  He handed over a slim, black cigarillo.  "Light...

Navymich, Comments don't disrupt anything unless someone pulls a thread-jacking.  It's nice to know how people react to seeing how I characterize them in these little tales.  No one has ever threatened bodily harm.  I've had several people swear I must have a video camera hidden in their home. ...

Para, Is the inability of the system to handle additional recruits a problem of shuffling paper or lack of facilities or both?  The paper shuffling side can be fixed fairly quickly, I would think, through the addition of sufficient funds for computers, civilian staff, etc, plus a reasonable...

Well, folks are visiting the post, so I assume this stuff is of interest.  Somebody say something! Here's another little tale involving Purgatory and the Symbiotic Saloon, along with an eclectic mix of characters. **************************** DEATH DOWN BELOW JR Hume A Detective in Purgatory...

Ch. 8 - Spaghetti Night at the Symbiotic Saloon Marshal Sapper met the stranger just outside Graybar City. Sapper touched his hat.  “Howdy.” “Howdy, Marshal.”  The man leaned to one side and spat.  His horse stood quietly, ears twitching.  “You just comin’ from that there next town?”...

Ch. 7 - Ambush at the Symbiotic Saloon “Why’d you do that?” asked Sheriff Quagmire. Monk turned. He held a smoking .45 in either hand. “What . . .?” Quagmire nodded toward the shattered, bleeding corpses in the street.  “How come you shot ‘em?” Holstering his pistols, Monk shrugged.  “I...

Ch. 6 - Blackjack Night at the Symbiotic Saloon Monk frowned. He held a nine of hearts and a six of clubs.  Veronica had dealt him an eight of spades.  “Um . . . just a second,” he muttered.  “I just gotta add up these here numbers. Neither the dealer nor Medicine Man, the only other player...

Ch. 5 - Kabob Night at the Symbiotic Saloon He stepped through the swinging doors and stood there, surveying the room.  Medicine Man, lounging at his usual table in the corner, saw him first.  He nudged Muskrat, but the miner didn’t wake up.  He was dreaming of Mother Russia – or fat little...

Ch. 4 - The Graybar City Raid Duey reached over and nudged Monk.  “Wake up,” he hissed.  “We’re here.” Monk sat up and started his morning stretches.  He halted suddenly.  “This is Next Townburg?” “Appears to be,” said Duey.  “Keep your voice down.  Looks like that dandy wants to talk.”...

Ch. 3 - Slow Afternoon at the Symbiotic Saloon Duey hauled back on the reins.  “Whoa!  Whoa, there!”  The wagon creaked to a halt.  Majoor sat on the edge of the Symbiotic Saloon front porch, eyeing the Raptor Gang. “Howdy!” exclaimed Duey.  He was in a jovial mood.  “Need any shotgun...

Ch 2 - Morning at the Symbiotic Saloon Monk strolled down the street admiring the morning sunshine and the bright blue sky.  He sighed expansively.  It was a gorgeous fall day.  A lovely day to walk the single wooden sidewalk from one end of town to the other - all four blocks of it.  He paid...

TALES OF THE SYMBIOTIC SALOON Purgatory could be a dingy gray waiting room with bad water, poor plumbing and surly matrons.  Or, it could be a town in the middle of Nowhere.  All manner of folks might hole up there until next Tuesday - or Judgment Day - whichever comes first. Ch. 1 - The...

Thanks, Bruce.  And thanks to recceguy, who has also been in touch. I've been thinking of posting a new forum tale -- skewering the staff, as it were.  Time is the problem. :) Jim

Mike was kind enough to read my novel, "Gehenna Station".  He also posted a review in the Military Literature section. Here's the review: http://forums.army.ca/forums/threads/48524.0.html Please check it out.  There are more reviews at the publisher's site.  Mike provided a link to the site...

When 'the last full measure of devotion' is given, there are always those who wait in vain. By the Pasture Gate Mike was nine and I was seven when she came to share our lives. A romping pup with huge brown eyes, she soon answered to her name -- Sunny. The school bus dropped us every day at...