Daughters by Stuart Land - Science Fiction OR Prediction - Stunning Story Spotlighting Women's Issues of Today's World! Another Personal Favorite...

 

Artwork by Stuart Land

Title: Cry Out...

Stuart Land, in welcoming his audience, says, "Welcome to My Imagination..."

But, I had only learned of this prolific artiste through this one book... I was stunned by the book, just one of his creations!

And then my own imagination began to imagine the Why? of the book
Was it just imagination?

Or a Prediction?

Obviously, for me, who once would have used the secondary heading of her book, A Single Christian Woman:
Is Sex All That?

Found myself also using my imagination!

So I thought I'd share each of the options I first thought of... (1) Has God finally had it with men's abuse of women and gave us "The Big Flood" effect upon the earth? (Note that the Daughters also explored whether they were just like Mary and had been touched by God) even though I claim thinking it before presented...LOL (2) Were we going to be an Amazonian nation? (3) or, as found in the last part of this book...Lovely to consider and hope for?

INCEPTION

 “Men believe most what they least understand.” Montaigne

I had soon given up the Amazonian concept, even though many women today, under the present governmental administration, have every right, in my opinion, to fight going backwards! In trying to force women and non-whites backward under his kingship, the entire world has turned upside down! But I digress...again...!

By the time I had finished the book, I had forgotten Chapter 1. I didn't want that to happen again... It is an important chapter... because before long there were many children dead from pregnancy--unwanted!

Twelve-year-old Nura bint Zayed stepped off the repainted weathered chair that had been in her family for countless generations and into the arms of Allah. One hour before, she had fainted in the spartan two room neighborhood clinic a kilometer from her home. The bite of the smelling salts had brought her back from the black cloak of protection her numbed mind awarded her. The doctor looking down from above, his eyes holding the sadness of surrendered faith, and the dismayed nurse behind him, were now part of the nightmare she couldn’t shake off. The first time she had vomited and fainted in the hallway outside the kitchen in her home her brothers, Afzal and Mis’id, chided her for eating too fast, although she had yet to eat a thing. Even though she felt weak, she went to school, but within an hour all queasiness had dissipated. She passed the episode from her mind until the following morning. This time the heat rose on her brow and her stomach danced as if filled with feathers reaching up into her throat. She barely made it to the toilet. Again, this condition passed within a few hours, but now she grew alarmed. If something’s wrong with the food, Nura thought, why was she the only one getting sick? Maybe the rest of the family were hiding their distress. But why would they? On the third day of nausea Nura went to her mother. With tenderness, her mother checked her tongue and throat for signs of infection, peered in her ears and beneath her eyelids. She inspected very inch of skin for possible wounds. Finding nothing to warrant ailment, she went to the kitchen to prepare ingredients for the time-honored family health remedy. Brewing this concoction was an objectionably odorous affair. But when finished, the auburn syrup had a rather sweet, if not spicy, flavor that tempted one to take more than was necessary. Although this prescription helped a great deal, the nausea persisted. After the initial week, Nura hid her morning sickness from her family, her friends, and the world. The thought of going to a clinic and costing her family money for an insignificant ailment filled her with dread. So many around her had real problems to contend with every day and they never complained. Some of her friends came to school hungry, eyelids drooping. Her best friend, Soraya, had lost the tip of her little finger to an infection of the fingernail. After the bandage came off she held out her tiny work-battered hands, and shrugged. It was hard to tell any difference from before. By two weeks, the nausea had subsided, but Nura’s stomach protruded more than she could hide. She brought down from her clothes cabinet the clay elephant she had made as a child to hold the money she was saving for her dowry. This funny-looking rotund beast had a slot on the back to accept her small donations but no opening to retrieve them. Outside, a few streets from her home, beyond the call of her mother, she broke open her animal bank. Picking the coins from the dirt, Nura dropped the uncounted money onto her handkerchief and gathered the corners up into a knot. Without a fleeting look back she stood and walked away, leaving the decimated elephant and her childhood behind. Nura returned home from the clinic in a stupor of overwhelming shame. Her short path through life had been written and it was not her right to know the meaning, only the outcome. Her family honor had to be above reproach, and she was old enough to understand the consequences for not abiding by tradition. She wanted her memories of her father and brothers to be those of joyful faces, not furious expressions and screaming condemnation. When Nura stepped off the chair, her only regret was never actually having known the touch of a man.

!!!

By Chapter 2 we move from a Muslim family to Africa where a young Black girl, very intelligent, realized what was happening to her body. But, she remembered the white man who was visiting the tribe, who had become somewhat of a friend, and she ran to him, seeking his immediate help, explaining that she was pregnant and that she knew his life would be in danger because they would think he was the one who had touched her and created a baby... He knew she was right and allowed her to lead him through the jungle, escaping the warriors that followed and soon was on a plane out of Africa back to his home in America.

What we soon learn that at the age of 12, before the age by which a woman can even become pregnant, girls across the world are indeed becoming pregnant, without ever having sex or any type of contact by outsiders related to pregnancy. In the meantime, we have a couple in America who is a doctor and a genetics expert who work within a local clinic, doing both research and patient care...

And their daughter became pregnant...

Soon a professor from Russia becomes involved with a young Russian girl who is now pregnant... He has the credentials to begin searching around to see if this is a lone case, or...not! Soon, he is escorting his young friend to America, where the American Government is now involved, due to the crisis which has arisen because of the proliferation of...Virgin...Mothers! Soon to be called V-girls...

Getting excited? It becomes even more stunning. As the girls are examined, it is discovered that the pregnancy is moving fast-paced. What a women could expect to see her child at the, say, one month, time frame, actually is much further along in the girls' pregnancies. Yes, all of them! Soon a Special Agent and his partner have been assigned to oversee what is happening at every level of the girls' lives... reporting directly to the White House, often...

Because people all over the world are panicking! How are these girls becoming pregnant? Parents want to know, Social Workers want to know, City and State caregivers want to know... And, they're blaming the government of conducting some type of horrible research activities!

It was verified that no such research, anywhere, had taken place!!!

Ultimately, four girls were the main study group, out of this centralized clinic where two gifted professionals were already involved in the investigation. The daughter, Kim, of these two professionals, Ayira, the young girl from Africa, the girl from Russia, another American girl, Shonda, and as the research and examinations began, 12 more girls showed up at the doctor's clinic... Soon there were sites all over the world where specialists were brought in to consider all things that can be affected by pregnancy would be examined. A neurologist and optometrist were soon added to the prime location which was being monitored by the FBI.

Soon all of the central group's babies were born. All were girls... Well, to be more specific, they had no genitalia... And it remained that way as they continued to grow, at the same rate as had been established during their mothers' pregnancies...

As the story moves on, these children grew older than their mothers...

And, still, the babies showed no sign of any genitalia. Worse, in many ways, those parents who chose to try for an abortion of their pregnant daughter, discovered, too late, that the child would die each time...

The above is essentially an overview of Part I. Part II moves us into the daily lives of those children as they deal with both private and world-wide concerns brought about by a major change in the structure of a woman's body. At the same time, those children in the central group are dealing with going to school, meeting many more "normal" peers in their lives than they've ever known before. And, yet, still not understanding exactly what they really were, biologically... But soon, they will learn...

This is a must-read for all those interested in the science of the human body and the medical care of those bodies. I also consider it a must-read for all women, purely for the speculative value of the story... And, more importantly how the present administration is trying to take us backwards into when women had no rights and we forced to carry a child even thought their death could result--and many did! We all know the present catastrophic situation that has been brought forth by the republican party and billionaires wishing control... This is not why Jesus died!

But, more, I found many personal responses, as mentioned above...

Folks, we are in a world right now, under the direction of a group of rich white men who are doing everything possible to destroy America as it has grown in so many ways... And destroy all improvements in the lives of those, like myself, who have worked steadily in one way or another, to improve women's rights, as well as the rights of all individuals who have been discriminated against by mostly white men... No, I do not mean that women should fight physically like the Amazonians, to take care of themselves through violence, when necessary. 

But, I have come to the conclusion during the last 10 years or so, that we, those people on earth, have failed miserably in moving forward from the B.C. time and into A.D. time, which was based upon the birth of Christ and now accepted in America.  Over 2000 years have passed and we still have major issues that were identified in The Bible, which was written by men after Christ's death on the cross and again lived!

Instead of following what He said, the historical records in the Old Testament were retained... Stories of lust, stories of rape, stories of murder which may have been accurate, but, surely were not to be allowed to continue... When Jesus offered LOVE instead!

Continue on with Additional Videos

I'm not going to say too much about the above videos on Greatness, other than to say, the video announcing the set had popped up on every single search I've been doing on YouTube... It seems to me that many in the world have lost direction... Instead of following the words of Jesus to Love--Love God and Love our Neighbors, we have continued to study about the kings and wars and sexual activities that were described in the Old Testament. And from a personal belief standpoint, we have moved on from there based upon our own personal experiences--good or bad.

Is Sex All That? We now have a convicted felon of Sexual Abuse as our president. We know that his history with women has been so egregious that millions of women marched in Washington to protest the selection of Donald Trump. I could go on and on with examples of his misogyny.

Just as King David's daughter, I learned about sex well before the time that I should have...Yet, the story of that young princess never had an ending, except that it led to murder--and another murder! I find it only natural to assume that sex has become the cause of many many problems between men and women, and in families... So, Is Sex All that? Divorces are most often caused by sexual infidelity. Infidelity is often caused by jealousy, immaturity, fear, or even anger...

Did we never learn from Jesus how to Love our God and Love our Neighbors?

So where am I going with this major diversion from the book? Well, I can only explain by giving away the end of the book... Shall I? No, I don't think so. This is a book you must experience from the very first page when a young girl is driven to commit suicide due to fear of retribution from her family--from her neighbors...

But, I will refer you back to my first assumption above... To me, my entire involvement with this book with the videos has been another God Incident for me...and maybe some of you?

We have reached in my lifetime (and yours) what appears to be the worst ever events ever to occur in America... All caused by one individual who wants to be King, or even God... He wants the riches of all coming directly to him for his use. No matter how many lives of the "small people" will be so hurt that many could die--from lack of medical care... Most of us see it, recognize it... Some, though, either have the same mindset of greed, selfishness and prejudice. Or, they are too afraid to fight back, even while their lives are being destroyed. I'm old enough not to change my basic beliefs as directed by Jesus. And I have no reason to fear, even if I'm eyeballed for elimination as Trump and Musk are doing daily to millions! 

Girls, women and others have for the last 2000 years been downtrodden, depressed, denigrated and often, abused, even sold by human traffickers, and sold to rich men as slaves or concubines or mistresses... 

Perhaps God himself did decide Enough is Enough. After all, he could still remember that a group of men surrounding a young girl who had used sex to gain food for her table, perhaps her family as well, and planned on stoning that girl to death based upon their catching her in "sin" against their religious laws... 

If Jesus would do a "Stop the Crap!" act, what do you thing He would do NOW?

Perhaps exactly what was imagined by Author Stuart Land in Daughters

And I and millions of women and men and girls and boys would be singing at His Great Gift! Forgiving Us Once Again and Sharing His Love...and Truth...once again across the Earth~

Take the imagination of Stuart Land, add the imagination of a Single Christian Woman who asks, "Is Sex All That?" and you're seeing the results... Now all you have to do is check out this Fantastic, Scary, Stunning, and A Stupendous Possible Prediction for All of Our God's children! Will we in turn lose our Free Will, I wonder... I doubt it... But God has been known to wipe out earth and start over... Maybe the Daughters was inspired?

Enjoy! and let me know what you think!

GABixlerReviews

Tease Enters Lives of Today's Bullies... Check out YA Novel by Amanda Maciel

Like everything else, this whole process is not at all like it is on TV. I mean, I'm wearing jean shorts right now. There's no dramatic courtroom scene or anything--like, with the afternoon sunlight streaming through big windows while I cry and confess everything on the witness stand or whatever. Apparently you're not even supposed to want to go to court at all, though it's gotta beat this, even if it's not pretty or cinematic. We're all sitting in a windowless room with a peeling fake-wood table (which I guess doesn't matter, except I've been staring at it for three hours), and the lights are too bright and the AC is on so high I don't even feel cold anymore, just numb.
I guess I've been numb for a while now.
But I didn't kill anybody.
I sneak another glance at the intern. He's black, with short hair and the smoothest skin ever. It's very dark. and it looks nice against his shirt, which is a bright lilac color. It reminds me of one of the nail polishes I used to always pick for pedicures, back when going to the salon was no big deal. Before everything was in the newspaper every other day and people at the grocery store started calling me names. Even when I'm just picking up stupid chips and salsa for my little brothers. They've yelled at me in the aisles, said the meanest things.
I never really understood "irony" when Mrs. Thale tried to teach us about it in English, but I sure get it now. Now that I get bullied for being a bully. I haven't tried explaining it to the people at the grocery store, though. Mom says that they're morons and I should ignore them, and for once I agree with her.
"Tell us what happened that day."

~~~
Some pictures used are from the actual case...in memory of all those affected...May they find peace and understanding...

Tease

By Amanda Maciel

It is hard for someone of my age to read a book like this. It goes against everything I was ever taught or learned about interpersonal relationships. That's why I find it equally hard to say that this YA novel is an outstanding example of what today's children are daily experiencing--your children, perhaps. Peer pressure is a theme that runs clearly through the novel... Social identity is created by friends, and even those who are not friends, as opposed to parents, church and other traditional arenas in which children were taught. Language these days use words we don't even "think" about, little on say...

I can't look Teresa in the eye, though I
know she's still giving me that stare,
but anywhere I look all I can see is
Emma's hair. All that red hair, hanging
from the garage ceiling. I wasn't
there, of course, and I've tried so hard
not to even think about it for a second.
And now I feel like I'm standing in that
garage...
What the F___, Emma? What is
wrong with you?
~~~

Technically, the school has this big anti-bullying
policy. None of us have ever seen it in action,
but they like to talk about it at assemblies and
stuff, and Principal Schoen's words at our post-
Facebook-page meeting ring in my ears again.
If anyone figures out that all those roses are
from me and Brielle, they'll definitely assume
we're the ones who wrote on her locker, too.
~~~

No, that's not an attempt to make that stereotypical for all children and teens...but, for this book, it is. It was inspired by true stories, and one in particular. In January 2010, a young student at South Hadley High School tragically took her own life. In a precedent-setting lawsuit against six other students at South Hadley High, those students were accused of bullying and harassing the girl who killed herself. Of course, I and anybody who reads the book will begin to form personal opinions of what happened and the role of those involved individuals, but I'll not include them--they are really irrelevant... This book is a fictional story based upon that tragedy... Please note that it does not include any violence that actually occurred...

It's just a prank. Obviously we're trying to call Emma
out for being a boyfriend-stealing skank, but they're
just flowers. The locker thing, though, feels like it's
kicking everything up a notch, defacing school property
I mean, the sign in her yard was public, but this is
right there, right where everyone can see it.  Suddenly
I'm scared again--terrified, really--of getting into
serious trouble...
~~~

Emma had just transferred and was beautiful, friendly, especially with the boys, and soon was dating. In fact, she thought nothing about texting to boys and initiating contact. Gossip, of course, began because it was assumed, or in reality, meant that she was willing to take boyfriends away and not to "tease" them like their girlfriends apparently were doing... The number of boys she was involved with at one time or another increased. Both boys and girls started calling her a slut, a skank...

Some, though, said she was nice and that she had a background that should be considered and everybody should try to be nicer to her.

Much of what occurred, it seemed to me, was nonverbal at first, so that interpretation of facial expressions were by the bully, especially, in deciding to act. Now most of us know that nonverbal communication is normally the more true, so readers will find that nothing comes across as black and white. Was she actually trying to steal everybody's boyfriends, or were the girls dating the boys automatically jealous and scared of the competition? 

And without her {Brielle her best friend does not return to school}
 I can't deal. Because my instinct is to just disappear. Thanks to
Emma Putnam, I'll never be invisible again, no matter how hard
I try. With Brielle, I could've turned into a yearbook girl, a
popular girl, a confident girl. Emma turned me into a mean girl.
~~~

One girl, alone, was, in the end, getting the brunt of the aftershocks... She was not rich, she was still in school--which meant that she was the only one that was really facing her peers after Emma was dead. And, of course, all of the students who had participated in/or actually initiated some of the bullying, who were not charged, found it acceptable to immediately start bullying the bully...even though they had been just as involved, except peripherally...

Sara and Brielle [one of the rich girls in school] had become friends, although readers will pick up that Brielle was clearly the dominating partner in the relationship, Sara, though, knew that she needed to be grateful because she never would have been involved with as much as she was if not for Brielle. Her father had divorced her mother and now had a new family far away. Sara was surrogate mother for most of her time for her two brothers. But it is clear that she really loved them and didn't mind, most of the time... But when Brielle started a number of things that happened, Sara didn't know how to talk to her--that is, say "no..." So, instead of saying "no" to her boyfriend, Dylan, she said "yes" to Brielle's insistence that she...should... And she held the party, and provided the booze to get both of them so out of it that it didn't seem that either of them cared much about it at all... sad to say... But now, Sara and Brielle were sharing the experience...

The book moves from the time Emma enters the school, through her death and the legal case, including psychiatry meetings, and back to school the next year.  Young adults, I believe, will hang on to each event that happens--this is their daily lives. Walking through the halls with friends, sometimes being knocked around accidentally--but sometimes on purpose. Who was at fault? Students, parents, and school officials all had a small or large part. I think it's important for those in junior and senior high school to read and digest exactly what was happening. Somebody says "shut up" or calls people names... They think nothing of it--because everybody is doing it. But that's how bullying starts and then gets worse and worse. Until it is too late for some...

Please consider this book for your children and read it yourself as parents or others who routinely have contact with our young. It's important to confront issues early. Nobody should ever be hurt through bullying! I believe you'll know if this is a must-read for you...


GABixlerReviews

Amanda Maciel has worked in book publishing since graduating from Mount Holyoke College and is currently an executive editor of children's books. She spends her free time writing, running, and helping raise her young son with her husband and their cat in Brooklyn, New York. TEASE is her first novel.

Humorist Edmund Christopher McCombs Picks "Inappropriate Moments" for First Book!

Australia pinnacle (Photo credit: Kenny Teo (zoompict))
"XXX marked the spot. At the very bottom of
this now mangled cardboard box, lay a graphically encased video displaying two
contorted women. The women were obviously
good friends based on the way they were kissing and caressing each other's ample
breasts while in some sort of folded, double-
jointed position. The title of this cinematic
masterpiece was emblazoned across the top.
"Double Headed Dildos," I confusingly read
aloud to my wide-eyed audience. In that
moment, my cousins and I saw in awe at what
we had found but this was, by no means, our
first foray into the vast land of adult
entertainment..."
~~~

stuck.at.seven
[while awkwardly aiming for ten]:
 Short recollections of Life's more inappropriate moments

By Edmund Christopher McCombs

I have found that, for me, humor is a personal thing...Like I had a lot of fun recently with the Senior Sleuth novel, because I could relate so much to the women characters! For this book, I also had a personal reaction--it sounded like my two nephews when everybody gets together and they start getting "ignorant" as some of us would say...

Through knowing them, I have found (1) boys talk about different things and (2) the generation of my nieces and nephews are so much more liberal in their talk, their discussions and their humor... I learned this when both of them had watched a Christmas movie that has a little boy sticking his tongue out, freezing it on a light pole, that they could repeat the words of the whole movie [which I have never watched completely] that we would never agree on what is funny... But then I learned that my sister watches it every year as well! It's me--I must be the one with the weird sense of humor...

"You see, from a very young age, my concept of
oral sex had been one wrought in confusion and
misinterpretation and through the dinner table
debacle, I realized very little had changed. The
term "oral sex" first came into my life at about
7 years of age. My mom and dad were watching
a news program and the reporter said that a 13-
year-old girl had been caught having oral sex
with a 14-year-old boy in the back of a school bus.
As most kids do, I completely irnored any other
details of the broadcast and blurted out, "What's
oral sex? My Mom gentle explained that the
term "oral" refers to mouth and that "oral sex"
is the medical term for kissing..."
~~~

On the other hand, since this book is about the recollections of a young man--well, it obviously was humor from his perspective...so guys will love it, and probably girls of the same age...and probably mothers...and, definitely, fathers will be saying: "That's my boy!" Well, actually, I'm not so sure about the latter. You see Edmund is only a "seven" and he's not into sports much...

In any event, you'll see that the humor I share are those that made me smile, and sometimes giggle...hey! it's my review, so get your own copy to read the guy stuff. And believe me, there's lots of it, as evidenced of the above picture--yes, purely my interpretation of whatever it is that this is supposed to represent...LOL And yes, you'll learn about awkward (that adjective I'm not so sure about since he's making jokes of those days) moments...from the boy's standpoint...

Like take for instance, the inquiring mind of a five-year-old boy fascinated with learning about new languages, cultures and geography...who sees an African-American woman who was
breastfeeding... (I figured I was safe using Angeline Jolie's cover photo!)

"I turned to my mom and innocently asked, "Do they give their babies chocolate milk?" My mom looked a little bit horrified, but she couldn't deny my astute query. "Shhhh, we'll talk about it later!" she yelped and stuffed me in the car as quickly as possible. As I sat there, in the backseat of a used station wagon, I gently pondered the lactation process. "If she gives chocolate milk, do Asian mothers give soy milk?" My little mind was on fire, and apparently the Florida heat was making me thirsty. Later on, my mom explained breastfeeding to me in detail and I was sad to learn there was no variety in flavor. This news disappointed me greatly, but looking back, this initial inkling of curiosity about different cultures would pave the way for many experiences. ~~~

I found this pic on Facebook and decided that this writer is still practicing to be on Survivor. Actually, by the way he looks now, I think he should try again...but, even though he has applied a number of times, he has never been accepted. My guess is that it's because they have a DNI file (Do not Invite!) on him after he wrote an email when he was at last contacted...

"To: Marissa (Survivor Casting)
Title: I realize that you hate me...

I realize that you hate me at this point because I am annoying but I have applied and applied and then I got a call, finally...after several years and I can't, won't let it go...so, march in the room and tell them that I will be interviewed in person. I realize that you told me to wait a week but I have the self=control of a toddler...
                                                     ~~~

Besides being reminded of my nephews, I had another family connection to one of the stories... When I was a young girl, we were told that one of our cousins had entered a convent. We'd never see her again! But when we were all adults, we learned that she had left the convent and was now married! Still haven't seen her again, but McCombs' story did make me laugh...and remember our own nun...

"Does it ever weird you out?" I asked.

 "What?" my friend Sophie responded.

"You know, the fact that your mom used to be married to the Lord." 

"I don't think about it too much, to be honest. Can you pass me the salt?" She had nonchalantly dismissed me because it may have been a non-issue for her but for me; I thought about it a lot in my life. I have met three people whose mothers were former Catholic nuns. Each beginning their pious journey at a young age, they pledged allegiance to their maker and vowed their faithfulness to Him for all eternity. However, somewhere along the way, they stumbled into a rough patch that would cause them to question the church and their own faith. Making what must have been one of life's more difficult decisions, they decided to file an "irreconcilable differences" divorce decree against Jesus H. Christ and move on to more tainted yet tangible, mortal mates. For me though, my fascination didn't lie in knowing the details of their marriage to the All Mighty. I wanted to know more about the second husbands and how exactly those men felt being the understudy of the Holy One.

~~~

Well I have to admit that we were scandalized when that rumor swept through the family. Even the non-Catholics in the family immediately wondered what kind of man her husband was...

Then we heard that he "waited on her for everything, including doing the cooking, cleaning, etc..."

My guess is that she was a Mary, like me, rather than a Martha... (inside joke???)

Hey, if you enjoy reading humor based upon personal life experiences, check this one out! There's probably a story or two that each of you will personally relate to...Or, if you're as ignorant as my two nephews who laugh at everything gross...this one is definitely for you! And a p.s. to "The Survivor..".I think your show would be fantastic with this guy providing some "light humor" to the program...Of course, I don't watch your show...

GABixlerReviews

About this author

Edmund Christopher McCombs is from beautiful Pensacola, Florida but currently living "down under" in Sydney, Australia. He began writing as an outlet to cope with the craziness that sometimes lives in his head, as opposed to beating people up. But, with his small arms and lack of coordination, writing was probably the best choice anyways.

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• What if Buddha said 'Fart'?
• Gallows Humor
• Am I more Martha than Mary?

How Do You Decide what's Right for YA 12-? Fantasy Swirls Into Mature Subjects In My Opinion...

Cover of A Certain Slant of Light

Under the Light

By Laura Whitecomb


This novel is somewhat of a sequel, to A Certain Slant of Light, which I didn't read. There is, however, sufficient reference to what happened earlier to make this book free-standing. If you like the concept, I recommend you read the first before this one to understand fully what happened...

Because when a ghost takes over bodies, well, they don't exactly fill in for the individual who had left that body!

Let's me just summarize important events surmised from the first book: Two mature individuals went into two teenager bodies and were intimate. A picture of that event was taken, probably by the brother of the teenage boy.

The family of Jenny, the main character in this new book, is very religious. Helen, the body invader, was shall we say quite different in her responses from those that Jenny would have given...

Helen finally does make it into heaven, after having used a number of individuals as hosts, and who indeed may have been helped--can't be sure...However, Jenny's body had been empty so she took it completely... While in heaven, she realized that she may have damaged Jenny's life...Duh...

So she comes back...

Now, when I first started reading, I had to hold my personal feelings in...this book is listed for ages 12-   I guess I tend to be much more conservative in what is read at that age...

Reading something seems to give actions some credibility, don't you think?

In any event, during the time that Jenny is out of her body, which she had self-taught to herself, given the abuse from her father, and the "acceptance" of her mother, she meets a boy who apparently is also out of his body, although this book doesn't show how that happened.

When Jenny comes back into her body, she, of course, has no idea what has happened in the interim. Needless to say, the majority of the book has Jenny catching up on that time period. And trying to explain she knows nothing about these actions!

The trouble with this book is that it is beautifully written. By that I mean, it was an enjoyable read. Jenny was a girl that readers will enjoy--and understand. I'm not so sure about Helen, unless she thought that the real person was never going to return to that body? But having died in a flood, thinking her daughter was also dead, then having had traumatic thoughts right at the point of death that left her...a little unbalanced?

The only thing I totally approved of to be learned about from the novel is that Jenny was able to mature during the time that she faced prejudices, and, finally stand up to her rigid father's actions. Even though her mother remained a wimp toward an abusive husband...

I hope this author turns to adult books for the future, so that she can fully explore her creative fantasy and imagination. But I really don't think I can recommend this one for 12 and above... Read some other reviews to get further information or read some excerpts... The ones I would want to share would be giving away too much of the story... Anybody want to ask questions, I'll be glad to share more...


GABixlerReviews

Laura Whitcomb grew up in Pasadena, California in a mildly haunted house. She received her English degree at California State University at Northridge in 1993. She has taught Language Arts in California and Hawaii. She has won three Kay Snow Awards and was once runner up in the Bulwer-Lytton writing contest for the best first sentence of the worst Science Fiction novel never written. In her spare time she sings madrigals with the Sherwood Renaissance Singers and is the props mistress for the Portland Christmas Revels. She lives in Wilsonville, Oregon, with her son Robinson.

The movie rights for A Certain Slant of Light sold to Summit Entertainment, producer of the Twilight Saga movies. A Certain Slant of Light has been published in Italian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Spanish, German, Russian, Bulgarian, Polish, Turkish, and Taiwanese. The audio book is published by Listening Library. In 2005 ACSOL was also chosen for the "Discover Great New Writers" program at Barnes & Noble bookstores.

The Fetch was #5 in the top ten of Children's Indie Next List 2009 and was published as an audio book by Recorded Books. It was also published in Spanish and German.

Under the Light, the long-awaited sequel to ACSOL was published in May 2013. It will also be published in Taiwanese.

Mandy Rosko Takes Readers To 2319--The World's Still Seeking...

star trek the next generation data, android Star Trek Exhibit at Queen Mary Spruce Star Trek Exhibit at Queen Mary Spruce Goose Dome, Long Beach Ca, Feb 2008 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Head of android Data (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Select Your Parts???

hmmmm??? In the year 2319, humanoids are made for many different uses. Their primary reason for being, of course, can be designed...put in your order...or see what is being offered for sale at the market...

"Melody tore her eyes away from the gyrating, half naked men and women, wearing barely-there thongs over their greased bodies, along the path set up for the buyers

 to follow inside the airport's rented auction room. 

A difficult task considering almost every inch

 was being used up by booths, poles, tables, and cages.

 That last one Melody didn't particularly like,

 but it wasn't any of her business how these 

handlers dealt with their wares. 

She shrugged it off. To be fair, 

not many handlers put their stag or doe in cages, 

and the ones they'd used weren't exactly cramped. 

Most were even prettified with scarves and pillows

 for the humanoids to play with and relax on. 

As the doe lounged in her cage, 

Melody eyed her, pretending to be interested 

as a buyer instead of someone who also handled 

stag and doe for a living. Stag and doe, 

humanoids engineered and born in labs, 

were very popular, and expensive, in the sex industry. 

Little, if anything, was on their minds, 

save for the act of sex, when they would get it, 

who would give it to them, and how many times 

they could have it. The perfect sex toy, 

a warm body that wanted nothing better

 than to please and be pleased, 

who asked for virtually nothing in return...

~~~

Just One Touch 

(Sizzling Erotic Romance 

  Novella)

By Mandy Rosko

This is a hot futuristic scifi for those into erotica... Data came to mind for me, since I'm a long-time Trekkie..

Dex was not a Star Trek officer, however, he was a slave--a sex slave...

But even as a slave, he was different--maybe someone had crossed a wire for 

Melody was there for just that purpose. She had her own company, so she didn't want anybody to know who she was during the negotiations. As she roamed the market, she would take mental note of the offerings until she decided what she would purchase...

Until she was surprised to see Dex being auctioned...

She and Dex had a past history... Her mother had been in the business but had kept Dex for her own, but would not permit him to be with her sexually. Melody had tried to seduce Dex often and once did get him

in her room, only to be caught together. Melody had told her mother that Dex had attacked her...

Dex was immediately returned to the factory for...reprogramming...

Now he was back on the block to be sold to anybody who had the money...

But the sales pitch was different for Dex now. The owner stated that he could provide pleasure without any significant touching.

Melody had just walked up to where he was being held, in chains, been astounded to see him; but Dex was not happy to see her since she had caused him much pain and suffering, in many ways...

When Melody heard the owner, she didn't believe her...so she went forward to "try him out..."

The owner was correct in telling his abilities.

Melody bought him on the spot...

But Dex was in the mood for revenge, not loving...

If you've seen Data on television, you know that he often attempts to learn more about human feelings...

Perhaps it is better to long for them than to actually have them?
Dex probably thought so.

Because he sure gave Melody an earful! I loved it!

There is quite an interesting story in this short novella; and I found it quite intriguing. Will we humans ever be satisfied??? This is light erotica, not any more than you see in some major novels...except for a more specific language...

Highly recommended for those interested...Your Choice...


GABixlerReviews



Mandy Rosko is the middle of three children, not including three step-brothers. I am not married, have no kids, and am hoping that this writing business pays off one day since I'm not qualified, motivated, or smart enough to do anything else. : /

The first romance novel I ever read came from a used bookstore in Fort Erie, and as there isn't a Chapters, Coles, or any other place other than WalMart or Zellers where you could get books new in that town, I wound up losing a lot of money there. I started off reading fantasy, and always enjoying the bits of romance that were found in those books the most. Then I discovered Surrender My Love by Johanna Lindsay... 

Check out Author Site!

James P. Wilcox Provides Another Side of Harassment and Hatred...

Prologue

The August heat is stifling; thick with moisture, ninety percent humidity. The walls ooze wet drops of grime; the remnants of ninety-plus years of blood, sweat, tears, dirt; simple wear and tear. Sweat drips down my brow, spreads under my arms, through my shirt, as I, the teacher, walk into the classroom. 

It is the first day back in school, the start of another year. My stomach twitches in a flutter; sweat stings my eyes as I cross the threshold. This nervousness remains unspoken; the heat is simply too draining. Outwardly, I show only disdain. I hate everything about this place: the building, the classroom, the administration, the students. I hold everything about this place in contempt for the benefit of my fellow haters: the teaching staff. I have always been awkward with my fellow teachers, partners in academic fraud. The majority of those teaching in this building have been doing so for at least twenty years. They began their teaching careers before the school declined. They are invested in the school and cannot afford to begin again. The others are first-years, grabbing a quick shot of experience before bolting for greener pastures. I am different. I have chosen to stay for seven years, even though I could go; should go. Some think I am a crusader, others just think I am stupid; but all are convinced I am crazy. I tailor my behavior to suit other’s needs; not my own. I hate, as I am supposed to hate. Secretly though, I love this place. The students have captured me. They keep calling me back. It is all in the challenge; the challenge of getting through to these children of poverty, of teaching them and giving them a shot at a better life. It is what makes me get up and come to work every morning. As I walk back and forth across the tattered remains of carpet, I run the one-act play I have titled Opening Day through my mind. I believe this is what teaching really is; acting. I must perform a play, for the benefit of the students. The performance must be good to engage this audience for ninety-minutes each day. I am not just the actor in this play; I am the writer, director and producer. I control the entire performance; except for the audience’s reaction. This is the one variable each actor, each teacher, cannot control. How will the audience receive this day’s performance and will they play their own roles? Stopping to make sure everything is exact. I want the room to be perfect and the props ready; all the posters straight, the desks arranged, my own desk organized, my pictures in their place. 

I linger at the photo of my wife and my two daughters. Having spent lazy days with the girls, running, jumping, throwing, catching, playing; I know the magic of those summer days has slipped through my fingers for another year. Now, my days will be filled with teaching and grading and the talk of things learned and homework to be done, both at school and at home. My girls are my pride and joy. They color everything I do. They are my center. In many ways, my students remind me of my own children, struggling to unlock the mystery of letters and numbers. At five and seven, the girls are learning how to recognize letters and numbers, how to add and subtract, how to read and write. My ninth- and tenth-graders are still struggling to unlock these same mysteries. 

It is sad, but this is part of the challenge. I continue to pace back and forth across the room, as the minutes tick down, before the students enter the school. The students will not arrive at my door until 7:15, so I still have time to wrestle with my rotten stomach and the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The knot of my tie suffocates. I loosen it an inch, while my throat tightens and loosens, tightens and loosens. My hands begin to tremble, so I grab a yard-stick, which is only another prop, and twirl it around. The back and forth swing is almost relaxing. Almost. The repetition is simply to give my hands something to do, but my stomach wins the confrontation. The need to vomit passes, while I remind myself that I have done this before. I have been teaching for seven years now, and today is no different from any other first day. I think my nervousness is a sign that I still care, about my job and my students; my children. These kids are my children, even though I was not present at their births, or even the first thirteen- or fourteen- years of their lives. They are my children to shape and mold. They are mine for ninety-minutes, each and every day. I want them to succeed, just like I want Sarah and Anne to. I want them to learn and live, to grow and mature, and to take responsibility for their lives. I can show them the way, if I can just reach them, and they can get past the color of my skin. 

Being able to stand up to and face down racism is difficult for everyone and it is not any different for a light teacher in a dark school. I think back to my very first day of teaching in this place. I was nervous then but not nervous enough. Disadvantaged by the cool crisp October air, instead of the oppressive heat of a Midwest August, I started late. I was a replacement, hired after school began, an innocent lamb walking into a den of wolves, offered up for the slaughter. Although my gut was twisted and my heart was a machine gun, I thought I would get a honeymoon, a few days to settle in and get caught up. Not nervous enough, the honeymoon lasted less than a day, less than an hour, less than even that first minute. It ended the second I walked into classroom. I introduced myself and then the torment began. Every vile name known to mankind, and then some more, spewed from the mouths of those students. They were teasing me, the lamb, before moving in for the kill. They taunted, yelled, racially slurred, left the room, came back, threw things, threatened. Not nervous enough, until the student threw his punch.

It was a warning, for the bare knuckles missed my large, round face by a fraction, with a purposeful glare from angry eyes. I was so lost that day, not knowing the students’ names, my fellow teachers, where I was, how to get help. I was alone. I recognized the challenge then. I do not back away from a challenge, even when I am crazy not to. The first days have all been easier since, but they are still awkward and I still get nervous. I think I have the key though. This key requires me to yank the students’ attention away from summer and into the classroom the second they enter the room. A teacher must pull the students away from the summer and thrust them into the reality of the now: school. I know a few tricks,learned over time and from experience. I am known in the school now. I have worked hard on my reputation with the students. The majority know who I am, if not personally, then by reputation alone, and not many are looking forward to my class. Those who do not know me are in for a rude awakening. I am nothing like the teachers they have had before. Out crazy the crazies, as the saying goes. 

My reverie is shattered by the first bell of the morning and the yardstick tumbles from my hand. It is the warning bell for teachers, the warning that students are now being allowed into the building. My heart accelerates and my stomach flops. It is almost time to begin. Retrieving the prop from the floor, I walk to the door and nudge it open. It swings in the wide expanse of the empty hallway. I savor the quiet for a moment and then cross the room and climb onto one of the desks. Removing the American flag from its holder, I descend back to the floor. Unfurling the flag, I walk back to my desk. My arrival is marked by the second bell of the morning, the bell that frees the students from the restraints of the cafeteria and gives them the freedom of the building. I strain for the first sounds of the morning jungle. When it is carried to my ear by the stale, humid, scorching, school air, I take a deep breath, straighten my tie, step up onto my desk, swing the flag around a few times and begin to sing. The play has begun.

~~~

I sought permission to use the Prologue as part of my article on Sex, Lives and the Classroom by James P. Wilcox. The emotion, intensity and...anger and pain were so pronounced that I believe this is a true story...for somebody...

Just as we are appalled by sexual abuse of children,  I was equally horrified while I read this story. We had an accusal of one person of another in the family, which was false. We were all upset when that happened. At the same time, we learned years later that there were a number of children who were abused in our family, including myself. This is not something that ever goes away. But when our children learn that they can use the words as a tool to get an unlikable person fired, hurt, or disgraced, while at the same time they are honest and, in fact, really trying to help...it is quite simply a disaster...

Thus the delicate balance between teachers and school students, especially when race, culture, or sexuality enters the picture.

This is a story about an inner city school, where the weather detracts everybody from wanting to even attend school. There is a predominance of one race in the school. We do not know how or why the teacher, not of that race, has decided to accept a position there.

The way I read the Prologue and the story, we quickly learn that this teacher has recognized exactly what happens in this school and is trying to confront the situation in order to make an impact, good or bad, and gain attention and hopefully discussion and feedback. 

For instance, he has started first day classes by waving the American flag and singing "The Star Spangled Banner." Personally I thought it was funny...but for their own reasons, three teen girls talked at and back to their male teacher. I think, for many of us, we are not willing to accept the slang talk from young people these days. So, when that happens, we automatically begin a feeling of disapproval. Those girls wound up being suspended...

And began a campaign to get revenge...

In a radio interview, the author stated his belief that schools are in a crisis situation. When I read the end of his novel, I realized why, perhaps, the statistics of teacher tenure in a job was so low. Please consider this book if you care about the educations of our children. This may be a racial issue, but I believe it's, more, a political and personal issue for anybody who cares! Have we changed so much in our schools that simply prepares students for corporations who want technically savvy employees...and dropped the life skills, arts, and other issues that are important to the personal growth of these young ones?

Highly recommended.

GABixlerReviews

James Wilcox, a former newspaper photographer and writer, is currently a high school social studies teacher in Kansas City, where is lives with his wife and three children. His second novel title The M-16 Agenda is also available at Smashwords.com* * * * * For more information about the author, visit: www.jamespwilcox.com Contact the author at: info@jamespwilcox.com

Check out interview with the author!