Blackie Noir Presents Noir Hard-Boiled Crime Novels!

http://forcg.com/articles/inspiration/47-
amazing-artworks-of-scary-and-deadly-skulls/

Requiem for the Widowmaker


By Blackie Noir


As soon as I read the author's name in my Facebook group, Reviewers Roundup, I decided I had to read his novel--nothing like publicizing the genre to the world and making sure they knew what to expect! I loved it, although I'd still kinda like to know his real name...LOL In the past, I've tried to get a handle on the noir, hard-boiled crime genre, but I was still not sure what it totally encompassed until I read Blackie's blog article about how he started writing. Turns out, I've been reading these authors myself! LOL

I wasn't quite sure who to call the main character--the Widowmaker? The cops chasing him?

"Eyeballing his attire, speaking in her own voice, Nadine says,   “Sure it’s not Johnny Vintage?” 

Slowly unfolding his lanky frame, Johnny Vance rises to loom over Nadine. Offering his knobby-knuckled hand, he says,     “I knew I was gonna like you --- partner.”     

Ignoring Vance’s hand, choosing to keep her gun hand tight around her revolver, she says,     

“You’re Detective Vancetti?” 

“Johnny Vance around the department. Detective Vancetti, that’s for citizens. What about you Kozok? You rude? Gonna leave my hand sticking out here like I’m panhandling?” 

“You’re Vancetti, how about you show me some ID.” 

“Fine.” Producing a battered leather badge wallet, similar to Nadine’s pristine version, he flips it open revealing his gold shield and ID card. 

“OK. I’ve been a little edgy lately,” Nadine says, “so I appreciate your doing that.” 

“Enough to shake my hand?” “Sure, but it’ll have to wait till I grab a shower. I’ve been out running, I’m wringing wet, my top, shorts, no place to even wipe my palm.” 

Vance grins,  “Don’t worry about it, but if you’ve got to have a shower, better make it a quick rinse. We’re pressed for time.” Looking at his watch, he says,     “I’ll give you fifteen minutes, then I’m out of here.”

“Excuse me? I don’t know what your hurry is, but I’m still off duty. Not due to report in till Monday. Tell you what Vance, I have no idea why you’re here or what you’re talking about, but you can take your fifteen minutes and leave without me. Go.” 

Dropping his cigarette butt to the walk, Vance says,     “Listen to me . . .” 

Livid, Nadine says,  “No. You listen to me. Fuck this shit. I come home from a kick-ass run, feeling great. Terrific way to start to my day. But no, what do I find on my doorstep? An aging Robert Loggia sprawled on my porch, covering my walkway with cigarette butts. Who the fuck you think cleans up around here, Mega Maid?”

“Look . . .” 

“No! You look. Fifteen minutes for a quick shower? The minute you introduce yourself  you start ordering me around? Where do you get off, pulling that kind of shit? Another thing . . .” 

Vance shouts his interruption, “Widowmaker!” 

Stunned, more by Vance’s volume than his words, Nadine’s mouth snaps shut. 

Pressing his advantage, Vance says, Sorry, but I had to get your attention. You’re gonna be a detective, first thing you need to learn is to shut up and listen. Work with me here, two minutes that’s all I’m asking. Now, you do know that we’re gonna be partners?” 

“Sheba Johnstone told me. She also said you could be difficult.” 

“Two minutes, remember? Silent, Nadine nods. 

Vance continues, “Sheba tell you Butch Ritter assigned you to her Widowmaker task force?” 

“Yes.” 

Vance grins, Now, I understand that you’re not due in till Monday. Hell, I’m supposed to have the weekend off too.” 

Nadine shrugs, So?” 

“So, our friend the Widowmaker doesn’t give a rat’s ass about your leave, or my weekend.” 

“What’re you saying?” 

“I’m saying there are three dead scumbags in the parking lot of a dive called JuicyTown on Pacific Coast Highway. Two of the mutts took small caliber shots to the temple.”

“Two victims? At once? That’s not his MO.” 

“Right. Could be he’s getting greedy. Could be it’s not his work. I don’t know.” 

Frowning, Nadine says,  “You said there was a third body. What about him?” 

“Two shots to the face. Bigger bore weapon. Definitely not the Widowmaker’s style.” 

“Yeah, but this third guy? Maybe he’s the Widowmaker."

“Possible. Tell you one thing.” 

“What?” 

“Faster you get your ass in gear, the faster we can get down there, start putting things together, get some answers. Now, you with me?” 

“Ten minutes. Partner.”

~~~

Of course that was easy for me since I always enjoy a strong female character and Nadine surely met that as can be seen above when she was first meeting her new partner. Before that, she had recently been promoted for chasing and ultimately killing a man who turned out to be wanted for a number of murders. Nadine became a hero and that chase scene, of course filmed in some way, went virile (if they had that capability during  the time Nadine lived)...

Her boss had watched the chase over and over, deciding how he should reward her. In the meantime, another strong woman who was heading up a Task Force to catch the Widowmaker thought Nadine would make a good addition to her team. Along with Nadine, she also got Johnny Vance, who she was not happy about, since he had once refused to partner with her--I'll let you find out why when you read it!

Actually Nadine and Vance made a great team and I wish the novel had not ended as it did...so that we could enjoy them in the future...

The Widowmaker had mellowed from his old days when he'd been given the moniker Icepick, but a somewhat traumatic event for him had affected him so that he'd become more selective with his kills--choosing to rid the world of those men who, like the man who'd killed his lover, beat up, abused and threw women away routinely.

In fact, he had been on the way to kill a local bar owner, when he coincidentally found two men beating up on one of the dancers there. He had killed both of those men, who had already killed his original victim...and then decided to let the dancer go--was he making his first mistake?

Nadine and Vance hooked up at the scene with Vance's old partner and went on to verify that there were two guns that had killed the duo, who, of course, were also wanted criminals. The second had been the .22 caliber that was the signature gun for the Widowmaker...

But now they thought they had a lead, a witness, because as they analyzed the scene, it was clear that the dancer had gotten away!

And so the hunt begins...

But there is an often humorous concurrent story line about Nadine's family who had adopted her many years ago and had treated her as their own. I enjoyed a family barbecue scene where Nadine brought a movie star who had approached her after seeing "the chase scene" and how the family and he interacted. Let's just say that this family didn't accept phonies...LOL

Will you guess how this book ends, as I did? For me, it was the perfect ending; but I admit that you and others might totally disagree! Like I said earlier, I would have preferred that Nadine and Vance stayed on the job, but, hey, they went out with a bang... Highly recommended! Enjoy!

GABixlerReviews

Go find out More About Blackie and Start Following His Blog...Maybe he'll write more short stories for us!

Devil in Disguise by Heather Huffman Romantic Suspense Plus!!!

Heather Talks More About Trafficking...

"I just can't get over how dark these people are. Can they
be called people? They're monsters, and you know I've seen
a lot, babe. But the complete and total disregard for humanity
...it's like all of the world's sociopaths decided to go into
business together and this is what they came up with,"
Richard mused...
"I can't help but wonder if I'd gone to the police with what
I knew if maybe even one girl could have been spared.
Maybe Julia could have been spared."
"Or it could have gotten you nowhere. It could have gotten
you killed. You remember what Veronica said--
most police departments don't have a clue what to do
with the slave trade. Unless you walked into a station
that happened to have a human trafficking unit, they
wouldn't have had the experience or bandwidth to do
anything about it." Rachel sat up to look him in the
eye. "At what point are you going to forgive yourself
for the decisions you made and simply move forward
from where we are now?"
"But what about the girl I heard scream?"...
~~~

Devil in Disguise

By Heather Huffman



Rachel Cooper had been fighting criminals for her entire career as a reporter, spotlighting areas of corruption whenever and wherever she found them!

But Conrad Langston, a man she had never forgotten, was back in town and when she saw him,
all of the old feelings came back, even though she never had time for relationships--even if he wanted to get back together. Then she had no choice--she didn't know who else to help when her mother had called crying that her sister was gone!

The police were no help, thinking she was just another run-away... Conrad had immediately reacted and went to be with her mother since he was closer. It was also Conrad who remembered that Rachel had once dated an FBI agent...

Jeff was happy to hear from her, but as soon as she explained about her sister, he let her know that his sister, Veronica would be on her way to her mother's place...Why? was the only thing Rachel could think of. But she soon found out!


Veronica came in with her husband. Both were on special assignments to try to infiltrate the trafficking of humans activity. And Rachel and Conrad quickly were totally caught up with what was now a major crisis...

But first they had to find Julia...

They had quickly determined that she had been involved online at Chatspace. And it was more than likely that she had made contact there and might have even met somebody deliberately. But Veronica was fairly certain that she was already in the hands of human traffickers and they knew that the first thing they did was drugged them heavily so that they would be immediately compliant...

Through the online chatter they began to find information... And they readied for finding her. Conrad had been involved, but they wouldn't let Rachel participate. But why was Conrad included? What could he do?

They did find Julia who was immediately taken to the hospital, having been seriously hurt, but still alive...

But Rachel wasn't willing to stop there, with getting her sister back... She wanted to go after them; and, yes, was willing to go undercover to do it!

Human Trafficking means high income and these individuals don't ever let anybody escape... Before long, everybody was on the run...

Readers will be right in the middle of one of the most dangerous activities now happening world-wide. How did we get into this situation? This novel is so realistic that you might think you are reading the news releases Rachel ultimately wrote! It is no longer people being brought into the United States--now our teens are captured to take back on the trip into other countries.  If you aren't aware, why aren't you? If you aren't aware, read this book.

The suspense of Conrad's involvement coupled with the potential of Rachel being recognized while undercover keeps readers on edge and at attention every step of the way. Even the bombing of the safe house didn't stop their efforts to cut down at least some of those operating in their area! The back cover claims that the novel "Passionate, engaging and poignant. Devil in Disguise entertains while raising awareness of modern day social issues. In my opinion, she succeeded!


GABixlerReviews

Heather Huffman writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense with strong female leads who refuse to lose hope. She sees her books as a way to not only entertain, but to also raise awareness of the realities of modern day slavery. She shares the passion of her resilient heroines to make a difference, and so dedicates both her time and a portion of her book royalties to organizations that fight against human trafficking.

Heather was born and spent her early childhood in Florida, but now calls the beautiful state of Missouri home. Her greatest job, aside from writing, is to hit the road with her three boys for adventures unknown.

She is the author of Throwaway, Ties that Bind, Jailbird, Suddenly a Spy, Ring of Fire and Tumbleweed. You can find out more about her writing and charitable work on www.heatherhuffman.net.

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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!

Paulette Mahurin Provides Excellent Debut Novel!

I love the cover of this novel by Paulette Mahurin, don't you? It perfectly sets the approximate period of time and allows us to better envision the cast of characters...and what a cast...

Please travel with me back to 1895 into a small town in Nevada. The first thing I learned was that world news was delivered by telegraph and posted centrally to be read by citizens.

the Dreyfus Affair divided France; Booker T. Washington gave his Atlanta address; Richard Olney, United States Secretary of State, expanded the effects of the Monroe Doctrine in settling a boundary dispute between the United Kingdom and Venezuela; and Oscar Wilde was tried and convicted for gross indecency under Britain’s recently passed law that made sex between males a criminal offense.

This poignant story is sad and yet beautiful... Mahurin has put it all right out there in her debut novel--all of the internal feelings in the world that are used to either love and support others or to destroy and hurt. It comes to mind that, in many ways, if the clothes on the cover were updated to the present and some of today's headlines replaced those for that year, that in many parts of the country, this story could easily hone in on what still happens in America. Perhaps that is why the author chose this as her topic? For whatever reason, his historical-looking novel is just as important, timely and relevant today as it was in 1895!

One of the significant additions I especially enjoyed was relevant quotes at the beginning of each chapter by Oscar Wilde. Although he appears in the novel only through news releases, he soon becomes the main individual around which...the gossip begins...

The Gossiper 

by Jean DeBuffet

"In contrast to Mildred, Josie thrived 

on being the center of attention.

Outside of them both being women, 

there was absolutely no similarity 

in appearance between the two. 

Whereas Mildred was a large woman with

 a face masculine in appearance, 

Josie was pretty in a feminine way with

 curved lips and eyebrows that accentuated 

her blue-green eyes and overly

 dilated pupils seeming always to be alert

 like an animal stalking prey. 

Were Josie to have a different personality

 or attitude she could be beautiful, 

like Edra, but her demeanor was so distasteful

 with constant faultfinding in others

 that it cast a dark ugliness over her.

 The mere comparison of Edra to Josie,

 for Mildred, was like comparing good with evil, 

beauty with ugliness, complete opposites 

that had nothing desirable in common."

 http://www.nashersculpturecenter.org

/object.aspx?ObjectID=21. .

Every town, every church, every organization seems to have at least one--she feels it is her responsibility to pinpoint issues of major importance--to be discussed, embellished, passed on, and regurgitated again and again. She also normally has an entourage who are not quite so bold, but who are quite willing to pass on the latest as presented by that woman--the town gossip! I cringe at the potential damage done by this type of woman. I must say that this author has "nailed" her perfectly and I enjoyed very much hating her and wanting her to be...
punished... Did you ever notice that America has a tendency to send such an offender away, rather than dealing with the situation? Nevertheless, the ending was appropriate, for that time...

Mildred Dunlap was the recipient of emotional abuse from this woman since she was a small child... But it had affected her greatly even if she never responded or shared her feelings. Mildred was now a wealthy woman who had inherited much from her father. She quietly used that wealth to help many people in that small town, but she was still hated by some and always someone who the town gossip included whenever she could.

But the latest news about Oscar Wilde had caused her great fear, for she knew that it would result in much discussion about why he had been arrested.

She immediately began to plan how to protect herself and her cousin, Edra, who, after being sexually abused at an early age, lived in fear thereafter, and had ultimately turned to Mildred for the love she needed...

She (and I) both wondered what would have happened if she had never started, but it was too late...

A local woman had died after a long illness, and as it was normal for neighbors to be visiting the home, helping when they could, Mildred decided that she should let him know she was interested... Edra was not happy about her plan...

Mildred thought this would be safe, thinking that he would never consider her seriously because of her own looks! It is impossible to merely tell you what happened in that little town, mostly when Josie opened her mouth!
But, there were also good people in that town...and they simply began to act as they felt they should...

Intense, disturbing, I found myself totally immersed in concern for Mildred and Edra. But I also had great empathy for Gus, a man who ran the local store, who had hidden the truth his entire life, by simply showing another person to the world. We are all so different from each other. Paulette Mahurin shows us, however, that we are all so very much alike! There is much to learn through her story if we open our hearts to what is said.

May this book be read widely and Mahurin's story be recognized for what it says to each of us--all of us!

And just an added note for the present lives we live...That gossiper is easily talking to many more these days. Please watch what you say on whatever social network you join...

Mahurin certainly "shows, not tells" us as this wonderful writer has easily entered into her character's true nature and captured what drives each to do what we choose. Listen and learn and perhaps we can all work to stop the persecution of one of today's citizens named "Mildred Dunlap"! Bullies are alive and well in 2012... History fans will enjoy the context and setting, but this drama deserves far-reading attention. Kudos to the author!


GABixlerReviews

Paulette Mahurin is a Nurse Practitioner who lives in Ojai, California with her husband Terry and their three dogs—Eli, Max, and Bella. She practices women’s health in a rural clinic and writes in her spare time.

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Justin Jordan Shares Personal Tale of PTSD...

Regions of the brain affected by PTSD and stress.
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)
“As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil...” Well, I think that is bullshit! I am scared of everything. I have seen behind the proverbial curtain and what I have seen does not make me feel safe, ever. I struggle with life as I have seen, felt, tasted, and heard death, over and over, repeated day in and day out. I am not the type of person that gives up or lets things overwhelm me. For the first time in my life I have challenged something that is a worthy adversary. In this book you will find stories of some of my experiences as a Mortuary Affairs NCOIC (Non Commissioned Officer in Charge.) There are many more that I just couldn’t add. I will share them with you the way I remember them in all their graphic detail. I will also share with you how I felt at that particular moment in time. I sometimes worry that my mind has filled in blanks in my memory and it is my sincerest hope that this is not true. But I had to write down what I have seen and how I remember it. All of the chapters except one are an exact retelling of my experiences; this one chapter is a recount one of my reoccurring dreams. I added this to illustrate just how vivid the memories can be, even if they are generated in the mind. This is a big step in my battle with PTSD and by sharing these horrible things it takes some of the burden off of me. It has taken a long time to accept that it is ok to share my pain; I can carry it no more. If while reading this you are touched by my stories, I say to you, “Thank you. Thank you for carrying some of that pain.” I have changed the names of the deceased to protect their families and loved ones’ privacy and dignity. But know this, I remember every syllable of their names and it is not meant to be disrespectful. I have worked more deaths than I can remember. However, the ones detailed in this book are the ones that had a profound impact on my mental well-being. I blame no one. I am not bitter. I am glad I had these experiences because they have challenged me to overcome my adversity, and made my life extraordinary. If at any time while reading this book a tear falls from your cheek, I ask of you one favor, let it hit the page, in remembrance of the fallen brave men and women who gave of themselves to protect and defend your freedom.

And Then I cried:
 Stories of a Mortuary NCO

By Justin Jordan


Potential readers of this compelling novel may think that they cannot relate to Justin Jordan's story. In my opinion, that would be a wrong assumption. For a number of reasons.

First, if you or any member of your family have been in any of the armed services, it may be important to you to know what happens and how much honor is given to those who give their life for their country.

Second, this book is ultimately about PTSD. Much of what Justin Jordan shares may also have been diagnosed for someone you love who has come home from the service and knows that something happened to them there, but have not yet contacted anybody for help in dealing with those changes...

Third, I want to add a personal observation from my own experience which may also help you decide. Perhaps it was not you personally, but, again, you know a loved one who might find this book beneficial. I know I did. About a decade ago, I was diagnosed with clinical depression, due, for me, to a buildup of stress on the job, until  I experienced burnout. In turn, I found, after reading this book, that I've experienced many of the same symptoms from PTSD. I would not say that anything that I did was the slightest bit comparable to what Jordan shares; however, the human body reacts in a similar fashion, to a greater or lesser extent, no matter what it is that has caused the trauma.

I think what overall impressed me in reading this book was the attention to detail that is paid when one of our men or women give their lives while in the service... Of course, this is the story of one NCO, but it seemed real, so real, for it to be just because this man would be a dedicated worker, no matter where he worked.

But it is in that dedicated and caring personality that can ultimately bring about a physical and mental response...

Especially when that individual is the liaison, planner, and performer in ensuring that for every loss of life there is an honorable handling of that death...

I, too, had experienced the same feelings of shame as Justin experienced. I can ask myself, as I am sure he did, "why should I be ashamed?" but after doing a job so long, and succeeding at it, while your own body is telling you that too much is being asked of it, it is difficult to accept that circumstances outside of your personal control has affected your ability to live normally.

Many of the symptoms we shared, such as, nightmares related to his experiences, possible false memories...and, especially, crying for me, may be ones you, too, have felt. If so, this may be a must-read for you--or a call to action to seek help.

This is a very personal story, written somewhat in journal form or as if Justin was sharing directly with you. Some of the parts will be hard for you to read--but, then, Justin actually experienced it! And he's hoping by sharing this, his story may help in some way. I believe it will, if you read it carefully and allow yourself to grasp that it was not his choice to become involved in mortuary services, as some are called to do.

Instead, he was given no ability to choose that he was placed, first as a cook, then a little bit into the recreation services where he had first requested, and, then completely in the position of NCO and dealing with hundreds of deaths that were not all related to service time. That is, even if an accident occurs during a leave, the military liaison still meets with the family, discusses options for funeral or memorial services, and essentially handles everything that most families would handle during the loss of a loved one. For most of us, that could be a few times in our lives. Imagine what it would be like to do this daily...

I am so happy to have had the opportunity to read Mr. Jordan's story. It is not the first personal story I've read, but it is certainly unique in his involvement with a career he had never considered or chosen. Even if you just enjoy reading biographies and have no other reason discussed in this review, I still would recommend it highly. It is a revealing look into death and those who provide support services in those very personal moments when many cannot deal with their loss and what surrounds the arrangements for our loved ones.


GABixlerReviews

http://gabixlerreviews-bookreadersheaven.blogspot.com/2007/12/mcfall-book-on-ptsd-must-read.html


Justin Jordan is a Master Sargent in the United States Air Force and has 19.5 years of service. During his time he served for many years as a Mortuary Non-Commissioned Officer both in deployed locations and at home. Surrounded by death and dismay for so many years has had a compromising effect on his mental well-being. Diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in 2009 he has struggled to be able to consistently be able to perform the duties assigned and is currently being medically retired. He continues to fight this debilitating disorder with the aide of his service animals Dallas and Sarge and in an effort to continue to heal he will offer his first written work titled: And Then I Cried, Stories of a Mortuary NCO.

Big Congrats to Rita Mae Brown and Sneaky Pie Brown on 20th Anniversary!

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The Big Cat Nap

By Rita Mae Brown
 & Sneaky Pie Brown
          It Takes a Cat to Write the Purr-fect Mystery




It's hard to believe I've been reading Mrs. Murphy Mysteries for 20 years! Congratulations to everybody involved with this series and many Kudos for your success!

I think the thing that I most enjoyed in this latest novel was the extent of involvement by all the animals...It seemed everybody was included for a small or large speaking part. Since I've been living with 'possums, coons,
and, of course, cats, since I moved into my log cabin years ago, I realize how easily you begin to accept these little critters as somebody that comes to visit, and sometimes stays for awhile...LOL! One night, however, I woke up and kicked out at my bed covers--in my dream I saw a 'possum calmly walking into my kitchen door! Obviously I'm still scared enough that I can accept them only outside!

Of course, Sneaky Pie shows up on the cover and on each chapter page as usual which brings a slight smile when you turn the page...

Then there are the main characters: Mrs. Murphy, Pewter and Tee Tucker, the latter being the odd corgi dog in with her two feline friends... The illustrations by Michael Gellatly add greatly to delight readers!

Even the Lutheran cats, Elocution, Lucy Fur, and Cazenovia was involved! Wow!

The stories all take place in Crozet, Virginia and primarily on the family farm homeplace now owned by Mary Minor "Harry" Haristeen. Harry'd had a bout with cancer and readers catch up with her condition as her friends and husband. Fair, check in with her or worry along with her about her latest checkup... If you don't already realize it, this is a cozy mystery and Brown presents us with one of her coziest, taking advantage of her anniversary to slow the pace down and allow readers to reacquaint themselves with the cast of characters... I appreciated that!

"Slanting rays of late--afternoon sun kissed the fields as Harry walked through them.
"Like butter." She held her hand over her eyes as a shield. Today even her summer straw cowboy hat didn't do the trick.
"Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker listened as the human they loved most rambled on.
"Like most people, Harry happily babbled to her pets. She thought of them as pets. That wasn't their attitude.
"Mrs. Murphy, believed she had to think for both Harry and her husband. They were so slow.
"Pewter considered herself a small gray divinity. She felt no call to think for the humans.
"Tucker knew her job was to protect and defend, as well as to herd horses into our out of the barn. She used to herd humans, but their resistance to canine direction finally broker her of trying.
"The hay looks good," said Harry...
"Smells good," Mrs. Murphy noted.
"Especially when it's freshly cut." Tucker lived by her nose.
"To a lesser extent, so did Pewter. She stopped as she picked up rabbit scent, a fragile aroma. In her booming meow, she called out,
Mother and baby bunnies passed through, um, maybe fifteen minutes ago."
"You just figure that out?" Tucker teased her.
"I hate you, I really do." The gray cat sped through the hay, blew past the dog and cat, and shot in front of Harry, slightly knocking her leg in the process.
"Pewter."
"Faster than a speeding bullet," Pewter changed, having watched the Superman movies with Harry.
"Fatter than a cannonball," Tucker called out.
That insult provoked the gray cat to stop abruptly, puff up like a broody hen with tail like a bottle brush, hop sideways, and hiss loudly. "eath to corgis."
Tucker, knowing Pewter's temper, fell behind Mrs. Murphy.
"Thanks," the tiger cat drily said.
"Well, there she goes, running and grabbing all the attention! I think Sneakie Pie should be the star, even if also the writer--Personally, I believe Sneakie Pie is sooooo cool!"*

{Excuse me readers...Ricci decided to help write my review since Sneakie Pie is sooooo cool and Ricci is sssssuch a big fan...Back to the story line for the book!}

So let's look in to what's happening in Crozet!

You got it--a murder! Can't be a mystery series without one!

Wouldn't you know that Harry was one of the citizens to find it? A local mechanic still in uniform was dead on the floor, identified as Walt Richardson, who was reportedly the best man working at ReNu

Deputy Cynthia Cooper and Sheriff Rick Shaw are soon on the case. But, of course, Harry is "working behind the scenes" along with her pets to help!

Then Frannie Howard and Mackie Rogan find that a major theft of tires occurred when they entered the garage that morning, but not all tires were stolen!

Then of course, the twists and turns begin. While this mystery wasn't as tough as some that Brown has presented, I still had enough to keep me interested...and of course as a fan of the series and all things cat mysteries, I must highly recommend this latest to help celebrate!


GABixlerReviews and Ricci!

Ha! Sneaky Pie Instead of Me?
I'll sleep on it...
Not!

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