A Deadly Mission (The Olympia Brown Mysteries) by Judith Campbell
I heard about this series from the UUA World weekly e-newsletter I receive. The $.99 for the Kindle Edition turned out to be money very well spent.
The heroine of this series, Olympia Brown, is a college professor and a Unitarian Universalist minister. A Deadly Mission begins with Olympia hearing about the death of a of a student at her college. The girl had been involved with a group called the Boston Fellowship. Olympia had noticed the girl's behavior change, and her weight loss, and felt guilty that she hadn't tried to do more to reach out to her.
The start of the book is a little slow. The author spends some time establishing the world her characters live in, a small academic community in New England. We find out about her family and friends, etc. There's a long break between finding out about the girl's death and finding out any information about the Fellowship.
The book picked up the pace with the introduction of a new student at Olympia's college, Bethany Ruth. Bethany is a sweet girl from Oklahoma who comes from a very conservative Christian family. Olympia befriends the homesick girl and is alarmed for her when she finds out the bible study group she had encouraged her to attend led her to meeting members of the Boston Fellowship.
The story gets much more focused at this point, everything moves around how to save Bethany. Olympia's son tries to find out more and Olympia is threatened when the Fellowship finds out who he is. Olympia's priestly friend Father Jim discovers more deaths of college students in the area. These deaths all seemed like accidents at first, until further research reveals they all at the same cause of death, and were all members of the Fellowship who were trying to leave.
After having picked up and put down my Kindle several times over the past couple weeks, I got hooked in and stayed up til midnight last night to finish the story. The story is tragic in parts, exciting in others, and all too realistic. The hero characters (Olympia and her friends) have depth and history that drive them to help others, but they do this without immense wealth, magic or super powers. They are just intelligent people who care about others and have the courage to take action.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Nyx's Bad Night - Fiction
Pain. She woke up to pain and her first thought was 'It feels like someone kicked me in the spine. A lot.' Her next thought was remembering that someone had.
Nyx tried to make herself breathe slowly. First question, where I am now? The answer was comfortingly apparent once she noticed the IV in one wrist and the ID bracelet on the other. Hospital. Okay, no immediate danger.
Danger. How had such a normal night gotten brutally complicated so damn fast?
She was taking care of business in the back of the bar. Just a typical Saturday night in Harrisburg. It was a seller's market; it's not like there was ever a cop anywhere downtown after 10 PM. Nyx was just taking advantage of the socio-economic climate. The people who were too scared to do that were sheep.
Sheep. The hospital sheets were white and soft like sheep in a mattress commercial. She wanted to go to sleep, but she needed to remember what happened.
One of the flock stomped back the hall near the bathrooms towards her. To use the colloquialism, the girl was a hot damn mess. She walked like it was her first time wearing platforms, even though she probably had a closet full of them. Nyx had been successfully avoiding her for weeks. Customers like her brought more trouble than they were worth. Hot Mess was yelling something about "Dis-respect!" when Nyx felt leaves and ice cubes from a mojito hit her in the face. Hot Mess took a wide swing and Nyx narrowly dodged the forearm that was adorned with a thick, cheap-looking gold cuff.
Cuff. Nyx looked down at her wrist again. It was hand-cuffed to the bed rail. Shit.
After ducking, Nyx scrambled for the emergency exit at the end of the hall. As her hands reached the bar to press, she was shoved hard from behind. She fell rather than stepped through the door. As Nyx tried to get her balance back to run, Hot Mess grabbed her by the hair and threw her against the dumpster. She landed on the ground. Glancing up, she saw that several others had come out into the alley. Now she was the sheep, and the wolves were circling. Nyx curled into a ball and covered her head. She felt boots and high heels kicking her back and legs with vicious force.
With the edges of her vision darkening, Nyx knew she had to do something. Maybe if she hurt one of them badly enough, the rest would leave her bleeding on the ground rather than bothering to finish her off. She let the blows shift her so they wouldn't notice her going for the knife in her boot. With all the strength she had left, she struck out and brought the 4 inch blade straight down through someone's Louboutin knock-offs. A chorus of screams bounced off the walls of the alley. The crowd began to back off. Rough hands emptied Nyx's pockets of product and cash, and then she was alone.
Alone. No one was going to come to see her here. She wasn't even sure what hospital she was in. No one even knew where she was. In pain and alone. Nyx rubbed her middle finger and thumb together in a silent gesture, disgusted by her self-pitying thoughts.
She was completely shocked to hear his voice say, "Is that the world's tiniest violin playing your song?"
*End Scene*
Nyx tried to make herself breathe slowly. First question, where I am now? The answer was comfortingly apparent once she noticed the IV in one wrist and the ID bracelet on the other. Hospital. Okay, no immediate danger.
Danger. How had such a normal night gotten brutally complicated so damn fast?
She was taking care of business in the back of the bar. Just a typical Saturday night in Harrisburg. It was a seller's market; it's not like there was ever a cop anywhere downtown after 10 PM. Nyx was just taking advantage of the socio-economic climate. The people who were too scared to do that were sheep.
Sheep. The hospital sheets were white and soft like sheep in a mattress commercial. She wanted to go to sleep, but she needed to remember what happened.
One of the flock stomped back the hall near the bathrooms towards her. To use the colloquialism, the girl was a hot damn mess. She walked like it was her first time wearing platforms, even though she probably had a closet full of them. Nyx had been successfully avoiding her for weeks. Customers like her brought more trouble than they were worth. Hot Mess was yelling something about "Dis-respect!" when Nyx felt leaves and ice cubes from a mojito hit her in the face. Hot Mess took a wide swing and Nyx narrowly dodged the forearm that was adorned with a thick, cheap-looking gold cuff.
Cuff. Nyx looked down at her wrist again. It was hand-cuffed to the bed rail. Shit.
After ducking, Nyx scrambled for the emergency exit at the end of the hall. As her hands reached the bar to press, she was shoved hard from behind. She fell rather than stepped through the door. As Nyx tried to get her balance back to run, Hot Mess grabbed her by the hair and threw her against the dumpster. She landed on the ground. Glancing up, she saw that several others had come out into the alley. Now she was the sheep, and the wolves were circling. Nyx curled into a ball and covered her head. She felt boots and high heels kicking her back and legs with vicious force.
With the edges of her vision darkening, Nyx knew she had to do something. Maybe if she hurt one of them badly enough, the rest would leave her bleeding on the ground rather than bothering to finish her off. She let the blows shift her so they wouldn't notice her going for the knife in her boot. With all the strength she had left, she struck out and brought the 4 inch blade straight down through someone's Louboutin knock-offs. A chorus of screams bounced off the walls of the alley. The crowd began to back off. Rough hands emptied Nyx's pockets of product and cash, and then she was alone.
Alone. No one was going to come to see her here. She wasn't even sure what hospital she was in. No one even knew where she was. In pain and alone. Nyx rubbed her middle finger and thumb together in a silent gesture, disgusted by her self-pitying thoughts.
She was completely shocked to hear his voice say, "Is that the world's tiniest violin playing your song?"
*End Scene*
Monday, October 8, 2012
Why Gandalf and the Doctor should totally hang out
This springs from a conversation Tim and I had on the long ride back from my parents' house yesterday afternoon/evening.
1. They both like cool hats - floppy wizard hats, fezes, Stetsons.
2. Gandalf could easily take care of the Weeping Angels. His staff and Glamdring broke the Bridge of Khazad-dum, and smote the Balrog. Obviously stone enemies, not a problem.
3. The Doctor could have sonic'd the door to the Moria open in Fellowship of the Ring.
4. The Doctor could have easily taken care of the whole Ring problem. He could have had the Tardis materialize over Mount Doom, dropped the ring into the mountain of fire, and the whole thing is a 45 minute episode rather than a 12 hour trilogy.
5. They both regenerate.
6. They both believe in humans/mortals and put immense power in their hands.
7. The Doctor and Gandalf both have a habit of showing up just when they are most needed, whether you're escaping via the air lock of a space liner or about to be burned to death by a volcano.
1. They both like cool hats - floppy wizard hats, fezes, Stetsons.
2. Gandalf could easily take care of the Weeping Angels. His staff and Glamdring broke the Bridge of Khazad-dum, and smote the Balrog. Obviously stone enemies, not a problem.
3. The Doctor could have sonic'd the door to the Moria open in Fellowship of the Ring.
4. The Doctor could have easily taken care of the whole Ring problem. He could have had the Tardis materialize over Mount Doom, dropped the ring into the mountain of fire, and the whole thing is a 45 minute episode rather than a 12 hour trilogy.
5. They both regenerate.
6. They both believe in humans/mortals and put immense power in their hands.
7. The Doctor and Gandalf both have a habit of showing up just when they are most needed, whether you're escaping via the air lock of a space liner or about to be burned to death by a volcano.
Blogging Break
I was away over the weekend attending the wedding of two awesome friends. The blogs will resume as planned later today. Possible topic idea - Why Gandalf and the Doctor would be the Ultimate Fantasy/Sci Fi Duo.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Shopping Jones
Everyday they come into my Inbox, tempting me.
Pictures of beautiful clothes and shoes complete with money-saving coupons! NY & Co, Kohl’s, ModCloth are all seducing me with sales and gorgeous rich fall colors. NY & Co’s Fall Collection has this beautiful deep red shade they are calling Chianti. I love it; I want every dress, sweater, and pair of pants or shoes I see in it. I try to remind myself, Christmas is coming, you need to save money for other things etc. And then, sounding just like Rumplestiltskin on Once Upon a Time, I hear my NY & Co credit card chortling from inside my wallet, “You don’t have to pay for it today, dearie. You can use me! Just remember, fashion magic comes with a price!”
Sometimes I think my favorite websites and stores are conspiring together. The deep reds, browns and tans of the NY & Co fall collection would be great with the boots that I want from ModCloth. And I've worked so hard to be in better shape the last two year, there's a voice in my head that says "You deserve new clothes. You deserve an entire fabulous new fall wardrobe. You've got it now, so flaunt it!" Maybe I should watch Confessions of a Shopaholic. I need a good cautionary tale right now.
Because seriously, I would rock the hell out of this dress. And these boots. And this sweater. And this bag...
Is there a pill for this!?
Pictures of beautiful clothes and shoes complete with money-saving coupons! NY & Co, Kohl’s, ModCloth are all seducing me with sales and gorgeous rich fall colors. NY & Co’s Fall Collection has this beautiful deep red shade they are calling Chianti. I love it; I want every dress, sweater, and pair of pants or shoes I see in it. I try to remind myself, Christmas is coming, you need to save money for other things etc. And then, sounding just like Rumplestiltskin on Once Upon a Time, I hear my NY & Co credit card chortling from inside my wallet, “You don’t have to pay for it today, dearie. You can use me! Just remember, fashion magic comes with a price!”
Sometimes I think my favorite websites and stores are conspiring together. The deep reds, browns and tans of the NY & Co fall collection would be great with the boots that I want from ModCloth. And I've worked so hard to be in better shape the last two year, there's a voice in my head that says "You deserve new clothes. You deserve an entire fabulous new fall wardrobe. You've got it now, so flaunt it!" Maybe I should watch Confessions of a Shopaholic. I need a good cautionary tale right now.
Because seriously, I would rock the hell out of this dress. And these boots. And this sweater. And this bag...
Is there a pill for this!?
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
I'm too old to date Zack Morris
So last night I had a dream where Zack Morris (yes, that Zack Morris, from Saved By the Bell) picked me up to drive me to school. He asked me to go to the school dance with him. I was going to say yes, and then I remembered that I'm not in high school and haven't been for a long time. I said, "I'm 2- wait no, 32 years old, Zack. How old are you going to tell your friends I am?" He said he would tell them I was 18, and I was flattered, but it didn't seem like a good idea. Then, since I didn't go to school, Zack dropped me off at the mall.
So this dream got me thinking about the things I am now too old to do at the ripe old age of 32. The maximum age for enlisting for active service in the Air Force is 27, and for the Marines 28. (I could still join the Army or Navy for another two years.) I am too old to audition for American Idol.
There are other things I am probably too old to do, even if there's no law against it or rule restricting my participation. I'm too old to start training to compete in most of the Olympic sports I enjoy watching (figure skating, gymnastics, diving, ski jump, etc) Based on watching No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain, I think I'm too old to begin a serious career as a professional chef. I'm too old to become a super model or a movie star. Too old to become an astronaut, (see too old to join the Air Force) too old to become a ballerina, too old to become the star of a Disney Channel sitcom.
There are tons more things though that I am NOT too old for! I could train for a marathon, climb a mountain, start a business. I could travel anywhere in the world. I could write a book. I could write 12 books, and get them turned into an HBO series. Charlaine Harris and George R.R. Martin are 60 and 64, respectively. I could go back to college. I can be a Mom. (I really still have time, biological clock, could you turn it down a minute!?) Lots of people do all those things (sometimes two or three of them simultaneously) all the time. I'm not saying it's easy, but I am saying, yes, I can do it. I can do anything I put my mind to. That's how I was raised.
So while I am too old to date Zack Morris, there are a whole lot of things I can still do. It's all up to me.
"Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.” - Goethe
So this dream got me thinking about the things I am now too old to do at the ripe old age of 32. The maximum age for enlisting for active service in the Air Force is 27, and for the Marines 28. (I could still join the Army or Navy for another two years.) I am too old to audition for American Idol.
There are other things I am probably too old to do, even if there's no law against it or rule restricting my participation. I'm too old to start training to compete in most of the Olympic sports I enjoy watching (figure skating, gymnastics, diving, ski jump, etc) Based on watching No Reservations with Anthony Bourdain, I think I'm too old to begin a serious career as a professional chef. I'm too old to become a super model or a movie star. Too old to become an astronaut, (see too old to join the Air Force) too old to become a ballerina, too old to become the star of a Disney Channel sitcom.
There are tons more things though that I am NOT too old for! I could train for a marathon, climb a mountain, start a business. I could travel anywhere in the world. I could write a book. I could write 12 books, and get them turned into an HBO series. Charlaine Harris and George R.R. Martin are 60 and 64, respectively. I could go back to college. I can be a Mom. (I really still have time, biological clock, could you turn it down a minute!?) Lots of people do all those things (sometimes two or three of them simultaneously) all the time. I'm not saying it's easy, but I am saying, yes, I can do it. I can do anything I put my mind to. That's how I was raised.
So while I am too old to date Zack Morris, there are a whole lot of things I can still do. It's all up to me.
"Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.” - Goethe
Monday, October 1, 2012
Why I unabashedly love Tim Tebow
Yesterday was not a football day at our house. The Steelers had a bye week and I managed to strain my shoulder in my sleep Saturday night, so going out was not in the cards on Sunday. Neither was sitting up at the computer long enough to write a second blog. I was catching up on things this morning, seeing the results of yesterday's games, and cringed when I saw the Jets had gone down 34-0. Tim (my Tim, not Tebow) had mentioned last night that it was ugly and that Santonio Holmes (former Steeler) had been injured. The Jets coach was angry. "I was going to say we got our butts kicked, but we got our *sses kicked." FOXSports writer Sam Gardner had some pretty harsh, definitive phrases about the Jets performance. "Sunday’s effort was so exceptionally horrid, and New York’s moribund offense was so unthinkably inept"
You would think with that kind of performance, the Jets fans would be chanting "Tebow, Tebow, Tebow!" He only played briefly again in Sunday's game. After the game, he dodged reporter's attempts to bait him into saying he wants to play more, or to say the game would have turned out differently if he'd been in it more. Always hopeful, always looking ahead, he did his best to turn the attention to next week.
“Different teams that I’ve been on, with losses like this, I feel like we really have rallied behind because you don’t want to feel like that again,” Tebow said. “It kind of puts you on edge a little bit. When you’re in meetings, you’re a little more focused; when you’re on the practice field, you go a little bit harder; when you’re in the weight room you lift a little bit more. And I think it could be the best thing that happens to us all year.”
This is why I love Tim Tebow, and I'll watch any team he's with. He is a class act. He's positive, he's inspiring without shoving his faith down people's throats. He's not the only NFL player to take a knee in thanks or in respect to a higher power for a win, or if another player is hurt. Is he an amazing quarterback? I don't think he'll ever a Peyton Manning or an Aaron Rodgers. He is a team player, and maybe being a star quarterback requires a little of the swagger that seems to be absent from Tim Tebow. But I'd rather hear what Tim Tebow has to say after a game than Cam Newton or Michael Vick any day. I love the Steelers and I love Ben Roethlisberger as their QB, but would I want my daughter (or sister, or sister's daughter for that matter) to date him? Of course not! But I'd feel pretty good about her dating Tim Tebow.
And I'll admit, he's pretty easy on the eyes too.
Resources:
Fox Sports
You would think with that kind of performance, the Jets fans would be chanting "Tebow, Tebow, Tebow!" He only played briefly again in Sunday's game. After the game, he dodged reporter's attempts to bait him into saying he wants to play more, or to say the game would have turned out differently if he'd been in it more. Always hopeful, always looking ahead, he did his best to turn the attention to next week.
“Different teams that I’ve been on, with losses like this, I feel like we really have rallied behind because you don’t want to feel like that again,” Tebow said. “It kind of puts you on edge a little bit. When you’re in meetings, you’re a little more focused; when you’re on the practice field, you go a little bit harder; when you’re in the weight room you lift a little bit more. And I think it could be the best thing that happens to us all year.”
This is why I love Tim Tebow, and I'll watch any team he's with. He is a class act. He's positive, he's inspiring without shoving his faith down people's throats. He's not the only NFL player to take a knee in thanks or in respect to a higher power for a win, or if another player is hurt. Is he an amazing quarterback? I don't think he'll ever a Peyton Manning or an Aaron Rodgers. He is a team player, and maybe being a star quarterback requires a little of the swagger that seems to be absent from Tim Tebow. But I'd rather hear what Tim Tebow has to say after a game than Cam Newton or Michael Vick any day. I love the Steelers and I love Ben Roethlisberger as their QB, but would I want my daughter (or sister, or sister's daughter for that matter) to date him? Of course not! But I'd feel pretty good about her dating Tim Tebow.
And I'll admit, he's pretty easy on the eyes too.
Resources:
Fox Sports
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