Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Heading to the Beach for Happiness, Heartbreak, Honesty, and Home... The Mendocino Book Club #1 by Nellie Brooks

 


“What’s that book you got?” “It’s a historical account of senate meetings.” He accelerated, and the momentum pressed Sara into her seat. “The Roman Empire, huh?” “Boring, I know. I’m putting a case together and want to make a certain point.”



Happiness

They drove through the last of the dying light, brushing along the coast before turning away from the sea and driving uphill. Hannah, her elbow in the open window and a mild breeze ruffling her curls, didn’t ask where they were going. She didn’t question their destination; she trusted Alex to take care of her, her mind still lingering on the way he had looked at her in the parking lot. Soon, their car pulled into a small parking lot, tires crunching on gravel as they parked. Hannah smiled. “It’s a vineyard! What a view!” She had been to other vineyards in the area, but none as charming as this one. The last light was fading into the lavender-blue of a velvety night, casting a soft glow over the sweeping hills and valleys that spread before them. Row after row of vines covered the land, their branches carrying luxurious clusters of red, purple, and green grapes. “Their wine is great, but the food is even better,” Alex promised. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s see what they have for us.” 
They got out of the car, and Hannah, still tingling from being called gorgeous, deeply inhaled the warm, fragrant evening air. The aroma of sun-ripened grapes mingled with the delicious smells of a charcoal grill, and she suddenly realized how hungry she really was. When the breeze carried the aroma of rosemary and thyme, garlic and sun-dried tomatoes sizzling in olive oil to them, Hannah’s stomach growled. She laughed. “Oops.” “Don’t worry.” Alex smiled at her. “Same.” They started walking toward the vinery’s roofed terrace. A band at the far end was playing jazz music, and many of the tables were already taken, the soft chatting and laughter of the vineyard guests as welcoming as the view and the fragrant air. A party of four was just leaving, and a young server seated Hannah and Alex at their table by the railing. “Couldn’t have picked a better spot,” Hannah said gratefully. The day had been jam-packed with mixed emotions and complicated feelings, old conflict and new resolution. But now that she was here, with Alex, she felt safe, comfortable, and happy. 
“Good evening.” A new server brought menus, and her face lit up with recognition. “You are Hannah! Aren’t you?” Hannah looked up. She’d seen the young woman before, and it didn’t take long for the penny to drop. “Zoe! From the restaurant in Mendocino Cove!” “Yes, the Mermaid Galley.” Smiling, Zoe pulled out a notepad and pencil. “I work here too. I’m trying to scrape together the money to buy a bakery.” “I’ll be your first customer.” Hannah beamed. Zoe nodded. “I always wondered how you were doing.” “Much better than when we last met.” Impulsively, Hannah stood and pulled Zoe into a hug. “You were the first one to give me a hand when I needed it most. I’ll never forget it.” “Nah, no worries.” Flushing with pleasure, Zoe hugged Hannah back before letting her go. “I’m glad to see you again. 
So, what can I get you?” “Wine?” Alex smiled at Hannah. “I think you deserve a glass of something good. Maybe we can get a recommendation?” “Yes, please. Wine sounds great.” “I’ll bring you something nice to go with dinner.” Zoe thoughtfully tapped her pencil against her lower lip. “I highly recommend the ribeye steak and the grilled halibut with a creamy herb and citrus sauce. The kitchen has outdone themselves with those tonight.” Alex slid his menu back with a satisfied look. “Steak works for me.” “And I’d love the halibut, actually.” Hannah handed her menu back as well. “You had me at cream sauce.” A man in his fifties, with tan skin, silver hair at the temples, and laughing eyes, stopped on his way past the table. “Did I hear someone order the halibut?” “And steak.” Zoe smiled. “This is Jon Donovan, the owner of the vineyard,” she introduced him. “Jon, these are Hannah, of Mendocino Beach, and…um…” She looked expectantly at Alex. “Alex Shaw,” Hannah repaid the favor of introduction. “He owns the bookstore in Mendocino Beach.” “Really!” Jon held out a hand. “I remember the last owner; he was a friend of my dad’s.” His lips curved into a smile. “If I remember right, you look an awful lot like him.” “He was my dad.” Alex stood and shook Jon’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Jon.” “Good to meet you too. I heard something about his son being in the military, is that right? I’m glad you found your way back home. We should catch up sometime soon. The vinery’s doors are always open for old friends.” “Ex-military. Would be my pleasure.” Jon smiled at Hannah. “Do you enjoy Mendocino?” “I love it,” she replied sincerely. “I grew up in Mendocino Beach and just returned to live here. I’m hoping to get our old family home back.” “Ah. Best of luck. My wife, Jenny, also returned here not too long ago.” The look in his eyes softened when he said her name, but then he smiled. “Let’s get you settled for dinner. For the steak, I’d say the cabernet sauvignon. It has notes of dark berries and cedar. Works well with grilled meat.” “Sounds great.” Alex nodded and sat back down. “And for the grilled halibut…” Jon turned to Hannah. “I’ve got a very nice sauvignon blanc. It’s crisp, with light citrus flavors. The perfect match for the halibut.” “Sounds lovely.” Hannah smiled back. She was getting used to having people in the know decide what would be the most delicious food and drink for her, and she liked it very much indeed. “I’ll get to it. Enjoy.” Jon knocked on the table and left. 
Zoe picked up the menus. “Be right back with a breadbasket.” She left, returning her notepad to the pocket of her black half-apron. The jazz music slowed into a new melody. Several couples rose to dance in the center space of the terrace, while others stayed seated, eating and laughing with friends and family. “I love the fireflies,” Hannah said dreamily, propping her chin in her hand and looking out at the rolling hills. “Look, Alex.” She pointed at the rows of vines. The last light of the sun had vanished, replaced with the twinkle of string lights under the roof and the silver glow of a waxing moon. In the grapevines, the dry yellow grass, the branches of the old oaks, and the shadows sparkled and flashed the lights of thousands, if not millions, of fireflies. “Isn’t that pretty?” 
“Beautiful.” Alex smiled, but his gaze was on Hannah, not the sparkling hills. When she noticed it, she smiled back, butterflies stirring in her stomach. “No, really, Alex. Look.” “I am looking. I thought I’d seen enough when I came back from the war, so I kept wearing the eye patch. But I don’t need it anymore, not now that you are home. I want to see you with both eyes, Hannah.” He stood and extended his hand toward her. “I can’t remember the last time I danced. Will you do me the honor?” The invitation startled her. Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she had danced either. Evan had never… She blinked, stopping herself as she rose. It no longer mattered what her ex had or had not done. Hannah’s past had no hold over her here, in this beautiful night, in the company of this man. Smiling, her heart beating a little faster, she gave Alex her hand. “I’d love to dance with you, Alex Shaw,” she said softly, marveling at how alive, happy, and safe she felt with him. He led her to the dance floor and gently took her into his arms. Protected by the strength of his embrace, Hannah relaxed completely. Not caring what anyone thought, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his shoulder. 
“You smell of roses,” he murmured, his arms tightening as he guided her steps to the music. “The yellow roses that grow at the bookstore.” “And you smell of books and coffee.” She smiled softly. “I didn’t know you could dance.” Something brushed her hair. His chin—or his lips? “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hannah.” She lifted her head to look into his blue, starry eyes. “There’s also a lot you don’t know about me, Alex.” He tightened his arms even more, pulling her closer. She again rested her head on his shoulder. “I hate that you are married,” he whispered, his voice so low she could barely hear it. “Only in name. Everything else—it’s all over. I’m divorcing him. Or maybe he’s divorcing me. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 
“Are you going to let him have your house?” “Why?” She smiled. “Because it’s yours. Because you belong in Mendocino Beach. Unless you want to leave again?” “No,” she whispered. “I want to live here. I’ve always wanted to live here.” “Really?” He stopped and gently lifted her chin with his finger. “Do you mean that?” His gaze held hers captive. “Tell me what you really think, Hannah. I don’t play. That’s one thing you don’t yet know about me.” She reached up, burying her hands in his hair. It was soft and full despite its short length, and she ran a finger along the silver strand at his temple, smiling at his earnest face. “I know you’ve been hurt before. But just so you know—as far as I’m concerned, I’m no longer married and I’m staying in Mendocino Beach. Do what you think is right, Alex.” Another song ended, and the music faded. The surrounding guests erupted into applause, the jazz musicians acknowledging the break with quick sips from their wine glasses. And yet, in that moment, it felt as though Hannah and Alex were the only two people in the moonlight on the terrace. “If that is really how you feel…” His chest heaved with a deep, steadying breath. He gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “But I know how hard it can be to let go of the past. A divorce is one thing. But opening your heart to love again? That’s another thing, Hannah.” His eyes searched her face. “With you, I don’t want just a taste and a trial. I don’t want half-hearted.” “What do you want?” she whispered. “I want it all. Are you ready to give love a second chance?”

Heartbreak
The Worse April Food's Day Joke Ever!
Because it Wasn't a Joke!
Actually, it was Hannah's birthday which was Worse!

The moving truck is not going to get here today, Hannah.” Evan set his phone on the car dash as he stared at the pretty seaside cottage in front of them. Confused, Hannah unbuckled her seat belt and brushed back an unruly corkscrew curl threaded with the first strands of silver. “Was that a text from the company?” After months of planning and arranging their move from San Jose to Mendocino Beach, she’d expected things to work smoothly. That included having the truck get to her mother’s old cottage before she and her husband arrived. “They said they’d be here for sure.” “I know. I know they did.” 
He turned to her, a wary look in his eyes. “Hannah. Sometimes, things change. Sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.” “It’s my forty-fifth birthday today, honey,” she said cheerfully. “I’m no spring chicken. I’m well aware things don’t always go according to plan. But I’m okay. You know me. I’m always okay.” She smiled and, for a moment, cupped his smooth cheek in her hand, giving her husband her undivided attention. To her, it had been a pleasant drive. But Evan’s shirt was crumpled, and he looked sweaty and hot. Maybe navigating the bay area traffic had been more stressful than she’d realized. All the long drive over the mountain range, he had barely talked. Feeling a surge of love, Hannah hummed reassuringly, caressing his cheek with her thumb. Evan was taking the move hard; that was something else she hadn’t expected. He had agreed to it readily enough when Hannah’s old childhood home in Mendocino Beach had come on the market for the first time in decades. Hannah had been beyond excited to see the listing. Her heart had hammered almost painfully hard in her chest when she rushed into her husband’s office, a print-out of the listing in hand. He’d studied the listing distractedly first, then more interestedly—Hannah forever told him stories of the happy years she’d spent there as a child. His bare tolerance of her excitement had turned into questions and interest, and finally a light dawned in his eyes that told her all she wanted to know. They would have a new beginning by the sea! The next day, Evan had called the listing agent and put down an offer; when it was accepted, they celebrated with laughter, champagne, and sushi. 
But now, looking wary and disheveled, Evan frowned. His eyes roamed her face as if he was searching for something he’d lost. “Are you all right?” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was asking himself, not her. Hannah tipped her head, not sure what had changed. Evan grew up in San Jose and loved the bustling bay area. Was he suddenly worried that Mendocino was too out of the way after all? She’d have to make sure that he was comfortable in the beginning. Luckily, he still had his frequent business trips to San Francisco. He could stay an extra week here and there, to catch up with old friends. “Of course I am all right,” she replied lightly. “Look at how beautiful it is, honey. Who cares if the truck and our things are a little late? How can I mind not having a sofa when we have all this?” He drew back, pulling away from her. She dropped her hand on her lap. “Maybe tonight it’ll be a little annoying. But now? Just look at the sea.” She turned to the view and spread her hands to make her point. The cheerful white cottage stood on a sweeping bluff, surrounded by a sprawling garden full of blooming flowers. Beyond the garden twinkled the sparkling Pacific Ocean, with sandy paths running down the bluff to the famous beach that gave the small town its name. “Smell that, honey?” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The sea breeze streaming through Hannah’s open window was sweetly fragrant with the scent of honeysuckle and roses, beach daisies and lavender. But best of all was the wild undercurrent of salt and seaweed, of wide-open blue water and golden sand, of crashing waves and screaming gulls, of foggy mornings and sunbaked afternoons. “It’s gorgeous,” he admitted absentmindedly. 
Hannah was itching to get out of the car. But her husband clearly needed a moment. “It really is gorgeous,” she encouraged him. “We’ll make do until the furniture comes.” “Hmm.” She took another breath. “Right now, all I want is to stand in the garden of our new home and admire the view! Come on. Let me show you everything.” Butterflies fluttered in her belly and tickled her throat as she opened the car and got out. Even though they had to sell their apartment in San Jose to afford the cottage, the house had been cheap compared to other places. The reason for the relatively low price was the seller’s condition that they’d buy the small house sight unseen and in as-is condition. The agent had reassured them that it was only because the owner didn’t want to be disturbed and that the house was in fine condition. Hannah could no longer wait for her husband; she had to stand in the garden right now, just as she had in her childhood. She ran ahead, right into the midst of the colorful riot of blossoms and flowers and petals and leaves. Evan’s door slammed shut, and his footsteps came after her. 
“Hannah. Wait.” The sun was hot on her naked arms and neck as she turned, and she felt radiant with joy and excitement. “Darling, really, I don’t mind. We’ll sleep on the floor tonight, like two young lovebirds who just bought their first house!” Hannah beamed at him. That’s exactly what she wanted—a new beginning. A second chance at love and happiness and togetherness. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d slept with each other. Two months ago? Maybe three? Evan’s job had gobbled up his time and energy in the last year, and she’d not wanted to add to it with demands for intimacy. Of course, the many years of unsuccessfully trying to conceive a baby had not added joy in the bedroom. It hadn’t been long before sleeping together had become a chore, an item on the to-do list, an embarrassing necessity rather than an act of love. But tonight would be the night when Hannah would be brave. She’d rekindle her husband’s desire once and for all. She held out a hand, blinking into the bright sun. “Shall we go inside and explore our new home?” According to the agent, not much had changed since Hannah’s mother had to sell the house. And Hannah couldn’t wait to show her husband everything, to remember her happy, sunny childhood in this house that she still loved so much. 
Standing between the golden poppies that swayed in the warm sea breeze, Evan ran a hand through his hair. “Hannah.” Hannah shaded her eyes to see him better. He was being weird. “What, Evan?” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “We’re not going inside.” Confused, she dropped her hand. “We’re not? Did you forget to pick up the key from the agent?” “No.” A breath blew up his ribs, and then he exhaled in a rush. “I’m sorry, Hannah.” “Sorry about what?” The joyful butterflies in her stomach dropped like little cold raindrops, one by one. She put a hand to her belly, hating the feeling of anxiety sneaking into her happy new start. “What’s going on?” Evan moistened his lips. “I can’t do this, Hannah. I can’t… I just can’t do it anymore.” “Do what anymore?” The butterflies didn’t turn into raindrops but ice. Her insides froze as the frost glazing her stomach crawled toward her heart, her throat, her voice. “Be with you. I’m done. I’m—Hannah, I’m done. I’m sorry.” “You’re done?” Her words were whispers, whisked away by the breeze before they reached her husband. “I’ve been done for a long time.” He spread his hands to underline his words. “I tried. Believe me, I tried. I wanted this to be the new…but it’s not. And I can’t pretend any longer.” He dropped his hands in a final gesture of giving up. “I want a divorce, Hannah.” 
Divorce. The word echoed around the garden and the sky, bouncing from the tufts of lavender to the cotton puff clouds in the bright blue sky and back. Hannah grabbed at an old rhododendron bough to steady herself in a reeling world. “You want a divorce.” She didn’t need to ask. She knew her husband well enough to know he was serious. “I’m sorry. I guess this comes as a shock. I should’ve… I thought I could make it work. But I have to stop living a lie.” “A lie?” Something like anger curdled in her icy stomach. “Our life is a lie to you?” She knew he meant what he was saying. And yet, Hannah couldn’t believe her ears. “I should have told you before. I understand that, Hannah. I really hoped I could fix this. But I cannot. It’s over.” Hannah didn’t know where to start. After staring at him for too long, she held out her hand. The ice inside her was melting, giving rise to a wave of nausea. 
“Give me the key, Evan. You can go back to San Jose. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Evan took another deep breath. “Well…the house is in my name, Hannah. I bought it with money I earned from working hard at my job. So…I’m the one who is staying. You can go back to San Jose. Take the car and the contents of the missing moving truck.” “I can…what? I can take the car and the furniture?” He nodded, avoiding her eyes. “It’s mostly your books and a few filing cabinets, actually,” he said. “The other furniture is already in the house.” “Why? Why, Evan?” At first, she thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he cleared his throat. “You read your little stories to seniors and kids, Hannah,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “For ten years, you’ve mucked around with board books while I worked my pants off to pay the bills. It’s only fair that I get the house.” Hannah blinked. “I mucked around with board books? I’m a librarian, Evan. Even if I didn’t earn as much as you, I worked too.” A year ago, her position had been downsized when funding was cut. But she’d still worked the same hours, volunteering her time to the library and the community. “Go back to San Jose and stay with your friend Amanda until the divorce is sorted.” Defiant, Evan raised his head to meet her eyes...
!!!

Maybe if one’s husband had checked out four years ago—five? eight?—the period of grief after divorce really was just extremely short… 

I had to do it! On April Fool's Day, 2025, I wanted to spotlight both the good and bad of men--the jerk and the friend...

Let me be Honest... This is a wonderful women's fiction of the best kind. The setting is in a small town, where an owner of a bookstore has returned recently after being hurt in the service. He has come back to Mendocino to grieve his father as well as take over as owner of a bookstore that has been in town for decades. But there is a secret that he has carried from his early age that is about to explode back into his life! But first let's talk about the jerk!

May I use an older name for such a man--He's a male chauvinist pig! Just how much so readers will learn throughout this story--one that is simply unbelievable, except that we know it is happening, right now in real life...


No, there are no cats in this story, except that I, a single childless cat lady who is "miserable" being childless according to our VP even though enjoying my life writing about the single worst administration even in the history...of the world... has a cat mother and daughter now preparing for kittens and the first one has gotten as close to me as she can to ensure I'll be around to help her... The mother already knows that... Anyway, think Jerk=Vance LOL BTW, since Vance has a nonwhite wife, with two biracial children, I can't quite figure out how he was picked for VP - Maybe Dark Money!??? What Else?!

So, a little back story, Hannah, who is really the main character, is a librarian by profession. During her early life, she and her mother lived in a beautiful little cottage in Mendocino that had to be sold at one point, but Hannah had always hoped to return and own that same small cottage. She had seen that it was up for sale and immediately began to plan for something she had been dreaming about her entire life. Returning to Mendocino to live... She brought up the fact that it was now available to her husband, Evan, and slowly got him interested... Hannah, and readers will be both shocked when they actually buy the cottage, drive there, and stop in front with Hannah swinging her car door open, wanting to run and just...enjoy! Home!

She never got that far... The Jerk told her, among very hurtful things, that he wanted a divorce...she could have the car...!!! During that last conversation Evan more or less told her, just like Vance, that she was barren, in a job that did not bring sufficient money to the family...and he couldn't take it any more--he had tried!!! At that point, I and most other women will realize that Hannah had no idea just what kind of man she had married. Or, even if she was happy, the very authoritative man who was her husband, had beat her down so badly that she had accepted his disappearances, his long hours, as well as his pulling entirely away from her romantically... She was hoping to start anew in the Cottage...

Instead, looking into Evan's eyes, she knew he was making this decision himself! She got in the car... But she didn't start driving back to where they had lived before... She drove into town, pulled over, and sat crying... She sat there so long that a woman from a restaurant came out, asking if she was alright, and finally getting her into her restaurant, where she started bringing food and drink, telling her it would help...

She had one credit card, but was afraid to check--would there be any money in that account? She told the stranger that she couldn't pay and that, of course, didn't stop her from bringing food... That's what most women do, right? We help other women in distress and pain... She knew even if there was some money in the bank, that she could not afford to stay in a guest room somewhere. Finally, she remembered when she was young and, loving books, she remembered that every Saturday her mother would take her to the local bookstore and they would decide together which book she would get to take home that day... Now, Hannah remember that there was an apartment on the second floor of that store... Could it possibly be available? She had to at least find out or she would have to sleep in her car...

Now you all know me enough that when she opened that front door, it was a fictional God Incident! You see, the owner of the bookstore was now the owner's son, and he recognized "Hannah Banana" immediately. But Hannah didn't recognize the man. Of course, he now wore a patch over one eye which had been scratched by shrapnel... And, of course, she obviously was still in shock from what her jerk of a husband had just done to her! After all, she needed a safe, private place to...just...cry...

And, you are right, she got the apartment on the condition that she would have to clean it and prepare it to be lived in...No problem. That work helped her get through what had happened. At least she was still in Mendocino... And, within a very short time, she had found two new women in her life who also loved books and they planned to start the first book club in town. Actually, the actual reading of a book and discussing never really happened until the very end, because each of these women needed to have another female friend to talk to and they bonded immediately... They shopped together, ate lunches together, and even were there the day that Hannah was to receive an even bigger shock than being asked for a divorce! Seriously, a jerk who lies on top of cruelty and deceit just makes me think of what's happening to women, and others, in America right now! The only thought that comes to mind, again, that I know that God...is...watching...

And, yes, Alex, the Bookshop new owner, may not have been remembered by Hannah, but he soon started making a very favorable impression on Hannah Banana. By the way, there were others in town who soon recognized her calling her by that grade-school name! Hannah was Home! Highly Recommended! Will I continue on with this trilogy? Let me know if you want to hear more in comments below...

GABixlerReviews


“Thanks.” Hannah watched her husband step into the dim store, looking around as if there was something dangerous about the warm, flickering candlelight, the moon shimmer pooling on the old wood floor, the rows of books, and myriad stories surrounding their picnic. “What are you guys doing here?” His smile was as fake as his voice was nervous. “Book club.” Sara crossed her arms. “Why are you here? The store is closed.” He frowned. “Who are you?” Sara raised an eyebrow, ready for battle, when Hannah interrupted. “What do you want, Evan?” He looked at her, and the expression in his eyes became subdued. “Can we talk, Hannah?” “About what?” There was nothing they needed to talk about. It was all clear, brightly illuminated. What he’d done, what would happen next. “In private?” He smiled a smile she used to adore. An eternity ago, she would have done anything for a glimpse. Now, it had lost every last speck of magic. Hannah shook her head. “My friends can hear what you have to say.” A shadow flew over his face and his throat moved as if he wanted to say something, but then he only cleared his throat. “You know, the divorce… I was hoping we could talk about it.”

NOT!
Don't Get Fooled by Liars, Authoritarians and Misogynists!
Especially in Politics!


New babies here...and boy, did I need to help! They were stuck between a book shelf and my computer...! All but one survived--if I counted right 5 new babies...Wow! BTW, Mother of the young kitten who should never have yet been pregnant, heard the new kittens and decided to go outside...too much happening in here! You know, I have to add... Cats are encircled by male cats and they wait turns... We call that rape... Now, with the political climate of today, girls have no protection to that act of power, not love... There should be a difference between animals and male humans, doncha think?!

Gabby

Saturday, March 29, 2025

Serialized Part 2 Discussion of Katherine Stewart's Money Lies and God... Identifying the Funders!

 Part 1 Discussion begins here for those who need reference


"Be Joyful!" The implication that all this hate and violence must be done joyfully as to the Lord...NOT...

Imagine my surprise when, in the next portion of this book, MONEY, that I am reading, was an actual overview of many of those individuals, families, or organizations who actually provide what we now call "dark money." Meaning that "nobody" (i.e., those of us who don't have the technical skills) really can trace where the actual money that is funding political activities is coming from. Except of course from E. Musk who publicly advertises to give away money to buy elections or spending his money loudly and often in other ways... while having no problem firing and taking away money from we who actually need our income to daily live our lives.

Given the number of footnotes by this author, readers will discover that this book has been more than well researched! Can you imagine "following the money" back to the sources of the millions/billions of dollars that seem to be supplied routinely, especially to the MAGA side of our government? For me, losing a year of my life trying to ascertain how/when/where millions of dollars in capital money was spent and who got that money, I can tell you, it is mind-boggling and a major work effort. Thank you Katherine Stewart for this extraordinarily well written book and the effort it has to have taken to search out needed information and then to share it!

Because I was, and I believe also many readers. will be shocked to learn of the "whys" behind wanting to give money away to politics. They can be narrowed down to, in my opinion, wanting recognition, wanting power, and being lied into thinking you are doing something good...for whatever purpose you've accepted...

First, at the end of Part 1, I asked you to think about which group you might fit into... I realized that in reading that might have been a rhetorical question rather than a request... So, let me be clear, if you are NOT part of or support this plan (formally called Project 2025: Mandate for Leadership--and I just did a search! You can download a pdf copy for free if you care to do so), you are not part of the dark money investigation that was undertaken... You can be sure that I'll be referring to passages of Project 2025 in the future! Have you heard the word Mandate thrown around by Trump?! Well this is the mandate he is referring to! NONE of what is being done was the brainchild of the president of the United States... think about that! Further, as we have been finding out, NONE of what is being done by this administration is as reported are priorities for US--the Citizens of This Country! Instead it is a plan that was created by Trump supporters and other far right conservatives who...are...funders and supporters of what is happening right now!

Wallbuilders president (one of the formal groups) Tim Barton creates and provides "bogus" Christian National history to conservatives audiences. He quickly throws out facts and stats so as to imply that this is and has been a legitimate religion which just happens to be made up of MAGA supporters and all in support of Project 2025, including Funders. The intent of Barton is to make the audience believe what he is saying is true since he knows it so well and speaks fluently... Barton blames the decision by the Supreme Court for banning prayer in schools... Now if I remember correctly, at first prayer was not banned, it went to a silent moment of prayer, which would allow those of different faiths to act based upon their personal beliefs. In any event, I was there when the separation of church and state came into existence... After I thought about it, I realized that, while religion might be a part thought about, it was primarily to allow stores to remain open on Sundays (the Christian holy day) so that the millions of people who worked swing shifts could buy groceries, etc., on their days off...You know, those working in hospitals, cleaning staff who were required to work when the business was not open...school staffs at all levels... Many Christians are working in such jobs. And was it not Jesus who said to us put away the rules and simply love your neighbor? Something that never really happened since the Old Testament is still considered by many the Word of God, even though it has been translated from one language to another, edited by individuals who proofread it for content--you get the idea, especially since there have been many inconsistencies already discovered, questioned, and, simply, ignored by some...

The following might not be the song referenced, but it seemed appropriate since Christianity is being used by thousands of different groups who are calling themselves Christian Nationalists with goals of hate, action against non-white or minority people, and...violence...

Issue 1. This is what they have done,” Robert Busch writes to me with weary outrage as he forwards a photograph of a group of nuns, one of them wearing a STOP THE STEAL button, cheerfully joining President Trump’s rally outside the White House on the morning of January 6, 2021.1 Busch, who lives in Redwood City, California, recently formed a study group on economic justice within the Thomas Merton Center, which is affiliated with the St. Thomas Aquinas Parish in Palo Alto.2 Like most of his fellow study group members, he calls himself a Francis Catholic, in deference to Pope Francis. You could also call him a Nuns on the Bus Catholic, after the progressive Catholic group, which he supports, that advocates for a range of social justice issues. He is as earnest in person as he is passionate in his emails. He usually has at the tip of his tongue or typewriter a citation from any number of writings in the long tradition of Catholic social teachings. He remains personally opposed to abortion but rejects its political use as a wedge issue. Robert Busch reached out to me online just as I was returning from the March for Life, an annual gathering of antiabortion activists and their supporters that takes place every year on the National Mall in Washington, D.C. While the march draws in a religiously diverse crowd, it is heavily Catholic and includes hundreds of busloads of kids from Catholic schools, for many of whom attendance is all but mandatory. But many other Catholics are morally opposed to the politicization of the abortion issue and are horrified by the takeover of the Supreme Court. Busch and members of his study group are among them. They were determined not just to go on record with their opposition but also to do something to get their message and their vision of Catholicism out. Robert Busch works as an administrator in a development office at Stanford University. Edna Jamati, one more of the dozen-odd members of the Thomas Merton study group, is a retired nurse. Another member, Vicky Sullivan, is a grandmother who attends mass several times a week. Shannon Griscom is a retired teacher. Their group represents a cross section of the Catholic laity in their community, says Busch, which is to say that they are mostly middle-class, if rather whiter, older, and more educated than the median resident... 

Editorial note: After the following few lines, I have reached the publishers limit on use within copyright restrictions. I will henceforth depend upon my own writing skills to discuss this book. I hope you will continue with me...and if you'd like any clarifications on what I share, please feel free to leave questions as comments and I will try to clarify sufficiently for you to understand my thoughts and response to the content...

I wanted to leave these few lines because this excerpt is from Chapter 2 of the book. As I said earlier, I was shocked with what I was reading... this was the most shocking for me... I'll explain after the following short excerpt...

Just a few miles up the road, in the bucolic wine country of Napa, is one of the luxury hotels managed by a company whose founder and CEO is a man named Timothy Busch—no relation to Robert. Timothy Busch is also a Californian...

Some of us--maybe many of us--who are protestants have from time to time wondered why there are so many different churched under the umbrella of protestants... Through reading a variety of books, one of which is The Book of Thomas with commentary, which I'll talk about soon... is that I'm discovering what is really meant when Jesus spoke...

But, prior to this time period, other than the ongoing sexual issues that have long been hidden and then began to be addressed within the Catholic Church, I had never thought that the Catholic Church could be "splintered..." Until Project 2025 and Trump and the Funders Group behind dark money... It seems that, now, in that church there is a wide division between those who support Pope Francis' teachings...and all the rest, who are now in the majority... If you want to know more, I urge you to consider buying the book--this is just one shocking issue that I discovered. Very specifically, my reading of this book states that there is now a divide of leadership within the Catholic Church who have chosen wealth and power over the program activities of Pope Francis, who, as you may know, had a recent major hospital stay, but is now back... Thank God...

Issue 2 The Secretary of Education in the former Trump Administration is from an extremely wealthy family and their source of wealth, at least from a professional job standpoint, is running private schools... Here's Project 2025 plans...



Issue 3 This is actually a part, but in my opinion, a very important part of what is happening related to public education. MAGA churches, groups, formerly created "topical" groups are encouraging members to not only run for school boards, but to cause friction and dissent at the meetings by members or just by attending meetings. There are many videos available at YouTube showing specific issues, such as bullying, prejudice against minority students of all kinds, as well as working to change control of curriculum and books to other than professional teachers, librarians and more... Velshi on MSNBC has been covering the banned books issue from the start and is a good place to learn about specific books, sometimes banned purely on the complaint of one or two individuals???  A great example was given on how banning can occur. The writer was visiting a meeting where one woman talked about a book in her local school. She referred to The Diary of Anne Frank. Stewart was surprised and sat thinking when the woman went on to say, I like the book, but it was the homosexuality inclusion that I could not tolerate... Ok, I'm not going to explain the rest of that conversation. But if any of you know the story about the young Jewish girl who had to hide from the Germans during WWII, and you can't remember anything to do with homosexuality...there's a reason to call these people...FAR Right! 

I decided to include just one video where a young girl died because of what was happening in schools!


You are correct that the above video is not necessarily related to this book and actions now underway to destroy public education. However, doesn't that make it even worse? Because, NOW, we have an organized announced movement toward DEI in all manner of issues... including creating schools that will not be available for those with low income.

Issue 4 - Quickly, I want to highlight a son of immigrants who finished university and, during the depression, went into business selling electronics. When personal computers started to surge in sales, there was a concurrent almost insatiable demand for power strips, ultimately resulting in his being able to sell his main company for $1.65 billion dollars. His personal political view was “basic libertarianism.” But then this man was, shall we say, identified as a potential funder, with a capital F... An "adviser" took him under his wing, and then the now multi-billionaire made a $1,6B contribution to a trust controlled by Leonard Leo, the right-wing moneyman best known for stacking the Supreme Court via the Federalist Society. That is, he's the coordinator of all groups related to imposing a Christian Nationalist and right-wing agenda into existence (now happening under the republican administration.

The remaining part of the Money chapters very specifically provides names of donors of dark money, sometimes the why they donate, and people like Leonard Leo and others who work to influence, coordinate, and create false disinformation by which manipulation of former libertarians might be seduced of large chunks of money to give to "good" causes... making a name for themselves and surely going down in history of the time as a group of Funders decided they wanted to destroy democracy, the order of law, any regulations that reduced profits, and people who would prevent them... from... making... more... money... and, of course, to gt more tax breaks for the wealthy!

I don't know what the next section, Lies, will involve, so I thought I'd give you the latest--and catastrophic--set of lies that has come out of the republican administration... Perhaps you've heard of "Signalgate?" Days go by and still people are talking, upset and filing law suits... while lies or alternative news items are pushed, trying to get past the most dangerous security breach that has occurred by a president...


And a little more serious discussions...







GABixlerReviews

Thursday, March 27, 2025

Talking On Signal With A Liar! Consider: Does MAGA Even Care About 0UR Country??

 




That's Right! I was on Signal a few days... So, I was at least acquainted with the App when the world discovered that a standard everyday available App was used by the Trump Administration to discuss "War Plans..." Let me quickly share my own story... I had just posted my review on a site on Facebook under the author's name. (BTW, have you read why I'm not there now?!!) I've always done that for any book that I've read who is also on that site, and other sites I routinely post on...

When I received a message from her, it didn't surprise me. I often get feedback or thanks from writers. We talked a few times and, yes, it soon moved into the Carroll v. Trump case that had taken place in the same time period... She said something like, "I can tell you care, and I'd like to talk with you more. But I need to ensure it is more private. She asked me to download Signal--a platform with which I was not familiar. I admit that I was, at first, starstruck. I've become friends with other writers based upon that first review I had provided, so I did as she asked. I downloaded Signal. It was easy, but is supposedly encrypted, which merely means that the message is encrypted from one phone to another and vice versa.

We started to talk and she soon started telling me that she wanted my help in "spending her money..." That was the first point where I became suspicious... Without going into the entire story, let me just say, I started "playing" the person to whom I was talking. What was being said did not jive with my knowledge of the background of E. Jean. Why Me? was obviously a question I had in mind... Soon after interaction over a series of days, I was told by the writer that the individual was "not" E.Jean. "But, I just wanted to talk to you..." How did I catch him? We started talking about specific amounts of money. That individual mentioned $300,000. I responded that that seemed low given what she would soon have--right? Within minutes, I had cut off the conversation, deleted Signal from my computer... Yes, I had an idea who it might have been, but, then, I could be totally wrong. By then, Facebook had taken over Instagram and I'd been bothered by many messages from that site that wanted to get on Facebook, so they would make a comment on something I had posted and asked if I would connect with them... Apparently that was the only way that they could legitimately get on Facebook... Who Knows...? That type of technical problem had been going on for years on Facebook by that time... Yes, I had a bit of shame that I had at first gave in to "a celebrity," but, with me, I am always on guard. I've been scammed before by people who lied or used somebody else's name--writers--only to find a duplicate site had been made by a hacker... and I'd have to work to reconnect with the real writer!   
~~~

LET'S DO THE ANALYSIS UPFRONT!!!--REPUBLICAN CONGRESSMEMBER'S STATEMENT ON SIGNAL CATASTROPHE










You Know, folks, there was never a time that President Biden was not upfront to give full details about any major event that caused actions overseas, or here in America. Remember Afghanistan? No president had actually acted to get us out of that country. Biden did, but then got major backlash about how it was done... Give me a break! At least he acted and worked through the fallout! 

What you have watched is a series of just a few congressional discussions related to the misuse of a non-secured platform, Signal, that even I easily downloaded and talked to somebody who I really didn't know! The fact that "somebody" either on purpose placed a journalist's name on an established group chat, or by accident, just reveals the level of ease of hacking/misinformation use on normal cell phone programs. What America and all countries is having to deal with. That's why our government has its own communication equipment and processes. Why weren't they used? Not convenient enough? Lack of concern? or Just lack of...thinking and learning about your job and its ramifications. 

These people now are lying, claiming that the fact that the chat was outside of the Administration policies really wasn't a big deal...while at the same time, republicans as well as democrats are stating clearly that this was a major breach of classified material... I have to, again, ask...can we really believe that anything that Trump/staff are doing will not result in major horrendous changes to our Nation?! I have to ask--How can you trust or believe a president who claims that he has no idea what was being talked about...? What happened to the old saying, "The buck stops at the top?" Trump has already implied that somebody other than Hegseth had accepted responsibility...Not the Secretary! Certainly not Trump! So, does that mean that the techie person will take total blame? Thoughts?

GABixlerReviews


TRUMP IS NOW WORKING TO CHANGE ELECTION REGULATIONS! TAKE ACTION!!! DON'T LET REPUBLICANS PREVENT US VOTING!!!

Wednesday, March 26, 2025

Delilah: A Ronnie Lake Cold Case by Nikki Danforth - Spotlight on Sir Tom Jones' Songs! And Fantastic Short Story!!!

I may have gone a little overboard with the videos! LOL... yeah, I enjoy Tom Jones, even more as he's older, than I ever did even for Elvis... The power of Jones' voice is outstanding and his moves? Well, I'm sure you can/will make your own decision about them! I loved the short duet with Jones and Jennifer Hudson on The Voice... two powerful voices merging without effort, complementing each other in their greatness! Then I had to include Tom Jones and Pavarotti's to lead off the story... You can play all of the videos, none of the videos and just go for the story about the book... But, I did want to take the time and effort to recognize Sir Tom Jones in all of his Glory! As he said, he was given the voice...



“Delilah” performed by Tom Jones

Part of the fun of writing Delilah: A Ronnie Lake Cold Case was the research, including spending plenty of time online watching Tom Jones perform his many hits. Some of the earliest clips reminded me what a remarkable voice he has, and what an amazing performer he has been from the moment he appeared on the scene in the 1960s. These days, he’s a slightly different kind of amazing. Check out his fabulous 2012 video on YouTube where he sings Leonard Cohen’s, “Tower of Song.” The decades have added a wonderful darkness and dimension to what was already so perfect. Like the proverbial good wine, Tom Jones has aged well—just the way many of us are striving to do. --Nikki Danforth

I met Danforth in 2017 with her book Searching for Gatsby Haven't got to Stunner, yet... So many TBR books, so little time...



The bloodied corpses lay dumped on each other as if they’ve been sorted for the trash. Even with blindfolds covering their eyes, their frozen faces show an unspeakable terror. Two of the teenaged victims appear to have their hands tied behind their backs. The third must have worked out of the rope that’s still twisted around one wrist, her other rubbed raw from the binding. Her arms reach around the two girls as if she’s pulling them close. Were they already friends before this final embrace? I click through the next photographs, close-ups of the girls’ battered bodies. Their clothes are filthy and ragged, as if they’ve been held captive for some time. Other pictures on my laptop reveal the surroundings, possibly a warehouse somewhere in a rundown industrial area. The bleak, abandoned space is light years away from my cozy, safe cottage in Willowbrook, New Jersey, where I complete homework for my "Intro to Criminal Justice class.
Warrior, my beloved German shepherd, stirs near my feet on the end of a comfy chaise in my bedroom. This has always been my first choice of where to hunker down with a great book, but at the moment it’s where I study these photos. Suddenly, not wanting to taint my refuge with this Russian mob-related case, I take off my drugstore glasses, sweep up the materials, and head downstairs to the kitchen. I continue reading about this tragic human trafficking case and contemplate whether I’m really cut out for this world of investigative work. 
Unexpectedly, the wind picks up. Crack! I jump at the same moment the phone rings and grab it before it can ring again. “Hello? Who is it?” “Ronnie, it’s Will. Are you okay?” his calm voice asks. “You sound panicked.” “I’m fine, I’m fine. A huge noise outside startled me, like a gunshot, but it was probably just a limb that broke off.” I pour a glass of pinot noir. “What’s up?” “Do you want to assist me on a new case? I’m swamped—” “I’d love to, but is it more involved than the gofer work I did last time?” I take a drink. “Not that I don’t appreciate the opportunity—” “It’s a cold case in Parklawn, just west of Paterson. It’s not that far from you, and you’ll have a chance to help a lot in the field,” Will interjects. “We’ll find out more tomorrow when we talk to the client. Meet me at the diner at eight.” “You’re really going to put me in the field?” “With my close supervision,” Will says. “I don’t want to see a repetition of your—” 
“See you there. Thanks!” I hang up. I grab my computer and run upstairs to turn in. The wind continues to howl outside, and I pull Warrior’s dog nest next to my bed before sliding under the covers. I look at the computer screen, determined to pick up where I left off with my assignment. Outside, the branches creak spookily. “Who are you trying to kid?” I turn off my laptop. “Enough of the Russian mob for one night.”
 ~~~~~

Ronnie, our main character, is over 50, living alone in the Carriage House on the family estate, which she is now renting out to a family with children--just like it had once been during her early years. She was quite happy to be able to now begin to enjoy the smaller space and not have those shadows following her through darkened areas where nobody ever entered... Yet, she has two children so didn't want to assume that one or both of them may be one day interested in returning...home...

It's difficult to decide what to do with the rest of your life when a major change has occurred. In an earlier book, she met Will and began considering a personal relationship, while also contemplating whether she was interested in working in his field--as a Private Investigator. She is now taking one course and while reading the grim details of a mock case, seeing what men have been doing to women for ages, and trying to decide whether she has the desire to go so deep into such horrendous acts of mankind, she has the chance to become involved on a new case. This one to include field work, since Will is tied up with another case...

Will is still not certain she can act on her own, and gets her to promise that she will let him know what she plans before she acts... Of course, when you go out in the field and find something out, you tend to go ahead and take that next step without seeking permission... On the other hand, Ronnie seems to have an intuitive and quick mind that, as she reviews all the case files for a Cold Case, in which a young woman had been murdered many years ago, she picks up key factors that she deems important and then starts building the normal "whatifs" that are explored as an investigation moves forward...

Checking out who and why the people at that time were interviewed, then deciding who to try to get in touch with--former boyfriends, girlfriends, officers in charge of the case... That is, if they are still alive. But first, they had to meet with the individual representing the family who were asking for their help. They were to meet with the deceased's cousin who had flown in from Pittsburgh. Doreen Lyla had been murdered in 1972:
“My aunt, Doreen Lyla, was murdered back in 1972, and they never got her killer. “So, why now?” Will asks. “It’s been more than forty years.” “My old man’s got cancer, and we don’t think he’ll make it.” “I’m sorry,” Will and I say almost in unison. “Pop’s dying wish is that his sister’s killer be brought to justice,” Steve says...

Will and Ronnie, after their client had left, continued to put together a plan of action, with agreement of what Ronnie would handle without first coming back to discuss with Will. And, she followed this guidance, at least as far as she felt she could handle without disturbing his busy schedule... And that's how she wound up in a local bar where the victim was known to visit... And, while she gathered pieces of memory from the owner, the crowd was getting noisier as the beginning of a nightly feature of the club was announced--Karaoke! Well, I've sung in public, but never spontaneously as would happen in a bar. And, it was obvious that this crowd included many active participants! All of a sudden a woman was singing loudly, and offkey, I will survive! And the crowd loved her... And, by the way, I've use the karaoke version so you can sing along! You're probably reading this alone, right, so what if you do sing offkey, nobody will hear you...








Ronnie spent the evening there, at least until the Karaoke stopped. (While the author was writing more, I added a few more songs just for the fun of it!) The owner had been younger in the 70s but still remembered everything that happened, and what he thought about it at the time. Once he learned that her brother wanted to know who had killed his sister before he died of cancer, he was all in... And after Ronnie left she spent time going through everything and arrived at who she thought might be guilty...

After talking to Will who said that the only way they could prove it, would be if he confessed... And Ronnie knew exactly how to make that happen... As long as Will was there as her backup! Even though I, too, had identified the guilty individual, I still was shocked at what happened at the confrontation! Perfect ending!

And, if you haven't tried to sing along, I'll share that I did! Especially Respect by Aretha Franklin and of course, Tom Jones' songs! Don't close this out until you've at least tried one! I admit I only did Ok with ones I really knew, like I Got You Babe! Ah Memories!

GABixlerReviews


Tuesday, March 25, 2025

Love, Love, LOVE Angie Fox's Latest SECRETS, LIES AND FIREFLIES - Celebrating Women's Suffrage During Women's History Month!

 

“You have no idea the lengths some women will go

 to in order to give up their power...”


Didi planted her hands on her hips. “So it’s a peach operation that hides the suffragette operation.” “It sure looks that way.” “Hidden in Grandma Rose’s garden.” I had to hand it to Rose. “It would be the perfect cover for secret meetings.” “Nobody would think to look down here,” Didi said as the double doors overhead flew open on the ghostly side. A hook-nosed ghost above us let out a cry, dropping her basket of fruit. Didi zipped out of the way. I wasn’t as quick and caught a silvery peach to the shoulder. The icy wetness of the other side seared me. “Ow!” I cried as it plowed straight through me and rolled across the cave floor. The hook-nosed woman appeared directly between us. She wore men’s work gloves and an apron smeared with dirt. “What are you doing in my storage room?” “Madge let us in,” I said, rubbing my shoulder. “We’re looking for the lock that fits this key.” She studied the key I held up. “You won’t find it here,” she said grimly. “Then do you know where?” Didi pressed. Her lips thinned. “That’s not for me to say.” “They’re with Rose,” Madge said, shimmering into existence next to me. “I’ve been keeping an eye on them.” 

The ghost looked us up and down. “They’re not even wearing corsets.” “It’s a new day,” Didi told her. She frowned at that. “I say we leave this up to Liberty Brown. If she wants these ladies involved, she’ll tell them what to do.” “Liberty Brown?” I’d never heard of her. “She’ll be at the meeting,” Madge said. “You can wait with me.” “When does the meeting start?” Didi asked as Madge led us out of the storage cellar. “Ladies will be showing up any minute,” she assured us. “In fact, I hesitated to leave the meeting room, well, until you startled Viv.” “I think we all did our fair share of startling,” I said. “So what’s with all the peaches?” Didi asked. “I can understand meeting down here, but actually helping with the harvest?” “It’s…complicated,” Madge said, holding the curtain for us. “But you might as well help me peel a few while we wait for the meeting to start.” 

I fought off a cringe. “That might be difficult.” Objects on the ghostly plane felt like ice against my skin and fire in my veins. And anything I touched would vanish within minutes. But if we played our cards right, we could try to learn more from Madge. Didi seemed to be thinking the same thing. She commandeered an apron. I skipped that part and dredged up a rickety stool from the corner. It slanted sideways and looked like it’d crumble in a mild breeze, but it was the only seat I could find that wasn’t glowing gray. My rule when it came to the ghostly plane was definitely more of a look, don’t touch approach. The table appeared real enough despite the ghostly sheen. The peaches were on an entirely different plane. “Ready?” Madge said, placing a shimmering silver knife down onto the table next to me. “Sure,” I ventured. Oh, who was I kidding? I was never ready for this. The ghostly knife would be freezing cold. It would make my teeth chatter and my hand go numb. And if I dared touch it, we could kiss it goodbye. Same with the peaches. The basket. And while nuking all the unpeeled peaches would no doubt speed things along, I’d rather stay under the radar. Learn what we could. I made a show of flexing my fingers. Didi grabbed a knife and a peach. “So, seriously, why are we peeling fruit for the vote instead of marching or making ourselves heard?” She was right. I could think of a dozen more effective ways to be heard and inspire change. Madge wiped her hands on her apron before grabbing her knife. “Bake sales are important fundraisers.” Oh, come on. “You have to give us more than that.” “That’s it,” Madge said, not fooling anybody. “We’re in an underground cave,” I pointed out. “This isn’t a baking party. What are you really working on down here?” Madge stiffened. “We’ve been ordered to keep the fundraising going.” “With peaches?” Didi asked, slicing into her first one. “It’s no secret the movement is in danger.” And it was clear they weren’t telling us everything. She eyed me. “Keep at it, and Viv is going to kick you out.” “Let’s not get hasty,” I said as Didi placed a half-peeled peach in front of me. I could pretend it was mine. Madge dug into a peach with her knife. “Let’s be honest. I know everyone in Sugarland, and I don’t know you.” How strange to be on the other end of that one. 

“You should, right?” I agreed. “I mean, if you don’t go back five generations, are you really from Sugarland?” “I’d say the true test is whether you’ve put a raft down on Devil’s Bend,” Didi said. “Or gone to Roan’s for a hammer.” I nodded. They’d been in business since 1843. “Or stared up at Rockhill Mansion and wondered what the heck goes on up there,” Madge added. “It’s haunted, that’s what,” I told her. I’d solved the case. “I knew it!” Madge gushed. “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times.” She shook her head. “This is fun. I missed chatting. And working together,” she added, eyeing my knife on the table. “Do you really have to worry about spies?” Didi asked, while I wondered if I was brave enough to reach for the knife. At Madge’s raised brow, I did, gritting my teeth as I felt the bracing chill. I stabbed into the skin of the peach without picking it up. “Didi has a point,” I said to our host. “We’re women.” I ignored the goosebumps erupting on my arms. “Why wouldn’t we want the vote?” Madge cocked her head as she ran a knife around the peach, skinning it with swift strokes. “You have no idea the lengths some women will go to in order to give up their power.” She eyed me. “They leave chicken feet on my husband’s desk at work and call him henpecked.” She returned her attention to the peach. “They say he’s not a man because he stays home with the baby while I volunteer.” “My man takes care of my little Lucy while I work,” I said, flicking the peel and stabbing the peach before tossing it into the metal bowl. “Why shouldn’t your partner take care of his family? It’s what good men do.” Madge placed her peeled peach next to mine. “He has been quite wonderful. I’m lucky.” 

“You are,” Didi said. “My husband pretended he didn’t know how to work the washing machine. For fifty years.” Madge barked out a laugh. “Mine can take apart a carburetor but needs me to make his toast.” She pursed her lips. “Although I do cut it into hearts for him. He likes that.” “You’re lucky,” I said, making note to try the heart toast with Ellis. “Mine can’t cook to save his life. The bacon is either raw or burned to a crisp, but he keeps trying.” “Pretend you like it, and he’ll get better,” she said, placing another peach in front of me. “That’s been my plan now that my husband has been fixing dinner every night for the kids. He saves a plate for me.” She brought a hand to her head. “I’ve been gone so much.” “Doing important work,” I assured her. “It may not look like it, but it is,” she assured us. She flicked her knife toward the peach she’d laid out for me. “I already did one,” I said, looking to the metal bowl. The entire bowl had begun to fade. Oh no. It was disappearing! Fast. I hadn’t touched it. But I had touched my peach, which I’d tossed in with the other peaches, which set off a chain reaction of disaster. 

“What the—” Madge stood, her chair falling backward as the entire bowl evaporated. Oh my goodness. I stood quickly. “I’m so sorry.” She shrieked, pointing as my knife began to disappear from the table. “I’m sorry about that, too,” I cried. Viv dashed into the room. “What’s the matter?” 

“They’re—” Madge pointed at me. “I⁠—” “I’m alive.” There. I’d said it. “I messed up the peaches because I’m alive.” Viv rested a hand on her hip. “Of course you’re alive. Everyone is alive. And peaches don’t disappear.” “I saw them,” Madge said breathlessly, staring at the table. Didi placed her knife down and rose from the table. “What year do you think this is?” Viv rolled her eyes. “It’s 1919, of course.” They didn’t know they were dead. Or that I was alive. “And when is the meeting supposed to start?” I asked Madge. “Tell me. What date? What time?” She looked at me funny. “June 20th. Two o’clock.” “1919,” Didi finished. That poor woman really had been peeling peaches for a century. “I don’t think we can wait around anymore.” Liberty Brown wasn’t coming. Nobody was. These poor ghosts didn’t realize their time was long past. And if they hadn’t noticed by now, I wasn’t sure how to convince them. “Is Liberty the only person who can help us?” “The only one who’ll be at the meeting,” Madge maintained. “Rose and Hope were the only ones trusted with keys,” Viv said from the door. “Where is Hope?” Maybe we could track her down. 

“Hope died last week.” Madge’s voice broke. “She died in jail.” “How awful,” I said, rubbing my hands on my dress. They were still tingling. “They locked her up for disturbing the peace,” Viv said. “In truth, it was to scare us. To keep us from organizing.” “Or asking questions,” Madge added. “About what?” I asked. They both clammed up. Viv’s hands formed into fists. “Now Rose is locked in the same jail. I feel so awful for her. No one is allowed in, and she’s in the same cell where Hope died.” The musty air clung to my skin, and I could hear water dripping somewhere in the distance. 

I stood as primly as I could, fingering Grandma Rose’s filigree necklace. “I’m dating a police officer. I might be able to help.” Viv gritted her jaw. “We can’t trust the police.” Not again. Not in Sugarland. “Why would you say that?” Madge drew a hand to the button brooch at her throat. “Eleanor Blackwell has vanished. She’s slated to speak at the rally tomorrow. It’s crucial to our cause.” Didi crossed her arms. “When did she disappear?” “Two days ago,” Viv said. “She left the Sugarland Hotel after dinner. We thought she was coming straight here to the house, but she disappeared on the way. Several of our members went to the police, but they’ve done nothing.” “At least that’s kept it out of the papers,” Madge added. “If we have to cancel the rally, we’ll lose a lot of support.” For now. But I could offer some comfort. “The good news is I do believe it will all turn out in the end.” Viv scoffed. Madge’s cheeks flushed gray. “How can you say that?” she demanded. “Our vice president died in her jail cell. Our speaker has been kidnapped. Our president has been arrested. Our lawyer is trying to get her out, but she’s on a hunger strike. She could die in there, just like Hope.” “Grandma Rose will make it,” Didi murmured to me. “But at what cost?” From the way she’d treated Didi in the afterlife, it was safe to say Rose had been through a lot. Didi nodded. “Grandma Rose is alone in the world. Her husband, Grandpa Jack, died in 1915.” “We already lost Hope. If we lose Rose and Eleanor both, we’ll have no shot at the grand plan,” Viv added. “We’ll never stop, but that doesn’t mean we’ll succeed.” “Or live.” 

Madge wiped her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I’d had no idea. And they might be more right than they knew, seeing as they were still trapped down here a century later. Didi had the same idea. “Hang tight and stay where you are. We’ll see what we can find out.” Would we? “If Rose is in jail, we can talk to her about the key,” Didi said. She was right. Even if Rose had moved on, Hope might still be haunting the place where she died. She’d be able to tell us about the key as well. Viv brought a hand to her head. “Rose is the one we trusted to keep the key safe.” “It’s safe,” I insisted. And soon we’d secure Rose’s legacy as well. “Which jail is she in?” The ghosts shared a meaningful look before Viv answered, “Occoquan Workhouse.” I nodded, committing the name to memory. I turned to leave, pausing at the curtain. “Stay here. Have your meeting. We’ll be back with news,” I promised, my voice barely audible as I ascended into the world above.

~~~

I've been a fan for Angie for many years (do a search in the right column to check out all the other books I've talked about!) but, Secrets, Lies, and Fireflies is, not only a personal favorite for 2025, but, in my opinion, is the best book she's written--so far! Let's face it, with all that politics is causing in America, we have all begun to question just how soon women will be next on the chopping block... After all the president has been indicted for sexual abuse of E. Jean Carroll...




DEI actions are so diverse in implementation that you cannot keep up...people are being fired, then have to file legal actions!!! Chaos from one man who has already shown he cares nothing about women (E. Jean is not the only individual who has attempted to sue the president), Social Security, and Medicaid...


I could have continued to illustrate what is presently happening, but I hope all of you already know of the catastrophic mess that Trump and MAGA is forcing on America citizens... Still, it needed to be illustrated because many people have gone through this type of discriminatory action before! This book takes us back to the historical story of what was happening as women were fighting to gain the right to vote--and if we don't stop this madness, that could be next by this misogynist... and white supremacist...

“Where is she?” He blazed toward the house. “Is she in there? She can’t hide from me.” At this rate, she might want to. I was no expert, but I had to assume hell hath no fury like a gangster in penny loafers. 

Fox takes readers on a very different direction in her latest, which had to be planned for Women's History Month! Kudos Angie! We still have our regular gangster ghost, Frankie, who is stuck on earth when his ashes was accidentally spilt... This time, it is the family who is spotlighted in both good and bad ways... You see, other than the main character and her sister, all the rest of the family are dead or ghosts...

It all began when a fire is started in the Sugarland Library! Where Melody was working! Verity, our main character, was already hurrying toward the library when she heard somebody shouting her name... Yes, she realized that it was indeed her grandmother, Didi, who was calling her. We learn later that she saw Verity talking with Frankie, a ghost, so she realized that Verity might be able to hear her. She had been sent to be with Melody as she died...but when she saw there might be a chance to help her, all plans were changed! Soon Verity was leaping past everybody and on her way to find her grandmother, who then showed her where Melody was... 

Melody was standing, staring into space. A child was still lost and Melody wouldn't leave until she found her... So all three women began searching and ultimately found and saved the little girl, as well as Melody...  But a strange thing happened on their way out, Didi saw a white scarf, went and grabbed it and gave it to Verity. At that time, Verity thought Didi wanted her to cover her mouth from the smoke...

What evolved from that was the finding of a key within that scarf which started a search for a lock it would fit!

By the way, before we go any further, you should be aware that Lucy had won an award at the Annual Pet Parade and Festival. Lucy, by the way, is a delightful character who happens to be a skunk and who is also very protective of her loved ones and actually catches the criminal--with her back feet... You really have to read it to understand...LOL

Once the fire was under control, Didi returned to her home... Yes, she had left her home to Verity who had shown she loved it as much as Didi did... But, immediately the fun starts because Didi immediately created her vision of that house as she lived there... Which Verify loved and hoped she could stay... At the same time, Frankie felt it was his home now and wasn't happy with what she represented. You see, when Didi returned into her former home, she became the dominant ghost. Soon Frankie's home had been returned to a garden shed! Then Didi, thinking about her late husband, began to dress Frankie in a sweater, with a pipe... Well, hopefully you all who have been reading Fox for years know what Frankie thinks about himself...He...was...dominant! LOL Just like all men think so, right?

Which leads us to the main thrust of the mystery... During the Women's Suffrage movement, Sugarland had also become involved. However, it was not well received by the town's men. So women, at first, started meeting secretly. Rose, one of Verity's ancestors had been a major part of those activities. Unfortunately, all of the records had been entrusted to Didi, who knew nothing about Suffrage activities and after skimming the mountains of papers, had boxed it up and donated it... to... the... library! And, by the way, during the fire, a skeleton was found hidden in a wall there... 

I laughed often, but I teared up as well... Learning what was happening to women, how they were treated but so dedicated that, even after death, when they didn't know they'd died a century before, continued to work to make money to support those speakers who were traveling across the nation working to ensure women would be given the right to vote!

Must we continue to have similar types of situations over and over and over as men strive to override those votes that result in something different than candidates want! I'll never forget how a mother and daughter had lies made about them by the president and his lawyer! We must continue to fight to CONFIRM that ALL PEOPLE ARE CREATED EQUALLY as the Constitution guarantees... Then, why oh why must we repeat each step forward, while men want to go backward to the time when white men were the only ones allowed to participate in determining the type of government under which we live?!

And, why, Lord, do people continue to forget the only real things we needed to do for Him: Love and Speak Truth??? I thought Fox did an excellent job in the creation of the villain in this case... So very perfect an example of how some children are raised, taught, or simply, feel entitled to lie, cheat, and even murder if needed to get what was required for the life chosen... Angie, I hope you'll continue to take diversions into family life from time to time! Best book yet!

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