Sunday Morning Breakfast Serial

HAPPY NEW YEAR ALL!

(Hey Cathy - rabbit, rabbit, rabbit.)

People make New Year's Resolutions/Goals.  I have lots of them.

It's good to have goals. 

One of my goals was to be in an anthology with Neil Gaiman.  Neil Gaiman is one of my son's favorite authors.  He (and Jim Butcher among others) are freaking brilliant.  Since at one point Mr. Gaiman and I had the same agent I pulled together my courage and tried to interest him in participating in an anthology. Sadly, since I have the social skills of a rabid skunk, I wound up sounding like a particularly deranged fan girl.  Drove him away (in a Maserati doing 90.)  Sigh. 

BUT as luck would have it.  I WOUND UP IN AN ANTHOLOGY WITH NEIL GAIMAN.  Pure luck, fate, kismet.  Whatever.  It didn't sell worth a damn as far as I can tell, but I was (and am) delighted.  I have a copy (it's a HARDBACK no less).

I have a new goal.  I would now like to wind up in an antho with Jim Butcher, Charlaine Harris, and Laurell K. Hamilton.   (Not necessarily all at once.  I'd probably swoon and make a fool of myself.  At least the Maserati could only seat two of them as it sped off.)  Besides, I actually have met and spent time with these three folks.  They know I am no danger to them.  (Even if I do have the social skills of a rabid skunk).

Okay, enough of that.  I am in a wonderful mood and it is time to write.  My first project, the next installment in the serial. 

************************************

Who in the @#$*&@#$ is Boone Carter

The limo dropped me off a block from the worksite.  Apparently Mrs. Carmichael didn't want her "boy" knowing what she was up to.  I didn't mind.  It gave me time to think.  I had a lot to think about.

Jacob Chester.

Shit. 

I really hoped it wasn't him.  But it probably was.  And if it was, Mrs. C was right.  Jacob is, was, and always has been, someone with his "eyes on the prize."  Just not the prize Mrs. C was thinking of.

Not that he wouldn't take the girl's money.  He would.  In a red hot second.  He'd also take the girl, up to the mountains, to the Children of Abraham encampment where she would be indoctrinated so thoroughly that, if she ever was seen again, her own parents might not even recognize her.

I'm a big fan of God, think he/she does great work.  I mean, take a look at the Grand Canyon, a waterfall, the average sunset.  Pet a kitten, watch a puppy romp.  Look at a newborn baby in its mother's arms.  God is good.  The Children of Abraham are not.  They are a cult, pure and simple, created by Abraham Keene out of his enormous ego, greed, and lust for power.

I'd know.

I was a Child of Abraham.