StanleyWheeler

 It's alive.

Or, it's live.

I did it. The Shrinking Zone is live on Amazon. 

This is my 9th novel. 9 is the number of novels I have written. The novels I have written are 9 in number. It all began with Justice in Season, which I wrote back in 2000-2002, and put on the big river site in 2012. I followed that with Smoke, and the sequel to the first novel Justice Resurrgent in 2018. The following year I published Threading the Rude Eye, and Power to Hurt, the first two books in my alternate history fantasy Tomahawks and Dragon Fire series. The third book in the series, Clamorous Harbingers, came out in 2020. I published two more books in 2021: Promise of Carnage and Flame, book four in the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire series; and this new stand-alone, The Shrinking Zone. The more astute among you, or anyone who can count, may notice that that only totals 8 books. Well, I wrote another one, Finding Jack-The Orb, which is the first in a trilogy, but I have no idea when I'm going to get back to that trilogy, so I removed that book from Amazon.

That's all a lead-in to saying that the price of this 9th book shall be 99 cents. 99 cents shall be the price thereof. Get it. Get it now.

One weird thing -- The Amazon reviews of Smoke are showing up on The Shrinking Zone page. I don't know why.

What do you need to know about The Shrinking Zone? It's a fanfare for the common man. The protagonists aren't supermen or grizzled special forces veterans. They're working-class patriots and families. The location is not some exotic locale, but a rural area on the Snake River Plain. The stakes begin small, but rise with the tension and fast-paced action. If you have hope for America, The Shrinking Zone is the book for you. Get it before it becomes reality.

I'm on to book 5 in the alt-hist-fantasy series--which is already started.

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The festive illumination du Chateau du Chat Gris began on Saturday. The contractor and I did all we could until we could take the weather no longer. The weather we couldn't take was cold and gray like a concrete slab in winter--with the added bonus of a freezing wind to challenge our combined will. I did get started before he came, but had to take those lights down because parts of each strand were defective. My wife had played a nice trick. She had labeled the box, "lights for the trees" and also in a faint and faded marker had written, "need fixed." I did test each strand before I put it up, and cast aside any that were totally dead. The problem was that of the rest of the strands half or more of the lights didn't work. The problem became apparent after I ran power to them. The tree lights went up more quickly the second time when the contractor got into the tree. I was tempted to make a Legolas joke while he was up there, but none came to mind that were witty enough to be worth mentioning.

To complicate the illumination installation, I got a call from local law enforcement about a matter that required contacting the secretary who knows how to generate the appropriate paperwork, and coordinating with the judge who had to review and sign the right papers to make sure things happened in a timely manner. Ultimately, it didn't slow me down much, because the contractor continued stringing lights while I talked on the phone.

Finally, the contractor insisted that he beat me in a game of cribbage. I nearly prevented that, but I let him get one 15 too many (or is it two many in this case? You won't get that if you don't know how to play cribbage), so he was able to count out with a hand of only two. I had plenty of points in my hand and crib, but had to count second. Naturally, he wanted to move on to dinner rather than let me get even. My desire for revenge has been left to fester.

I was hoping for another round of gaming fun with Les Freres Corses, but they haven't been able to come over yet. I did get to do Legos with the Goose, but her and her sister spent most of their time with their grandma and the college girl who is home for the holiday.

Merry Christmas!