Biking Through the Mountains

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Each spring my husband Will and I look forward to doing e-bike rides on mountain highways while they are closed to vehicle traffic. This year we managed three spectacular rides.

The first was on the Sheep River Road, which is about an hour and half drive south of our home in Calgary. On May 10th, our group of eight met at the winter gate that blocks off the last 18 kilometres of the unplowed highway from Dec 1 to May 14 every year. The snow gradually disappears from the road in April. 

May 10th turned out to be a beautiful blue-sky day. Our summer clothing contrasted the snow-covered mountains.  

Three members of our group met the challenge of the hills on regular bikes. Impressive! We took many stops along the way, including one for the highway's namesake bighorn sheep.  

And a picnic lunch at the Sheep River Falls. 

On our return trip, another biker snapped a shot of the whole group. 

Our second ride this spring was the Highwood Pass, the highest paved road in Canada. It closes to traffic from December 1 to June 14 due to high snowfall and to protect wildlife. The first two weeks of June the road is free from snow for biking. It's hard to find a parking spot on the popular weekends. Seven of us went Thursday, June 7, the weekday with the best weather forecast during that narrow biking window. 

Here I am (turquoise jacket) outside the winter gate before starting the ride.  

We enjoyed blue skies, but the brisk wind made the riding cool and the uphill sections more challenging, especially for intrepid Sam, on a regular bike. He also took our group selfie. 

The return ride was mostly downhill with the wind behind us, which made for lovely coasting through gorgeous mountain scenery. 

      

Our last mountain road ride of the season was June 14th on the Bow Valley Parkway from Banff to Johnston Canyon. This highway stays open in winter but closes to cars in June and September to protect wildlife and allow cyclists to enjoy the road. Tourists can rent e-bikes in Banff for the 50-kilometre return journey. The Parkway's hills are less steep than those of Sheep River and Highwood highways. This time regular bikers outnumbered e-bikers 4-3 in our seven person group. 

The weather forecast was 40 percent rain and we got pelted with with cold drops during a five-minute downhill section.  My cotton pants were drenched but dried quickly in the breeze when the sun reappeared. 

We heard reports of four bears sighted on the roadside. We missed them, but once more encountered bighorn sheep.   

These highways are so long that I've never felt crowded even when I've gone on popular weekends. This spring we did all three rides on weekdays and most of the time we had the roads entirely to ourselves. 

                                                                        

   

My Prize Winning Essay, by Karla Stover

 

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Most people haven't a clue about what garden clubs do, but they're not just about working in the yard. In my District, clubs do projects with the children at a local daycare, have planted and now maintain a pollinator garden for a library, take care of the Eatonville, WA. city park, and many other things to benefit their communities. The Washington State District of Clubs also sponsors an essay contest and that's where I come in. If no one else from my club wants to write one to enter, I do it. This year, the essay below (short but there is a word limit) won first place in Washington State and second in the Pacific Region (Washington, Arizona, California, Oregon, Nevada, Idaho, Alaska and Hawaii.) And, yes, it pays.

 One more thing: In researching I learned that it's "Madrona" north of southern Oregon and northern California's Siskiyou Mountains and "Madrone" south of them.

                                            Winter Wonderland

 The roast is in the oven, the potatoes are peeled, and the dog and I are hiking in the woods. Winter-woods walking is different from summer hiking. The trail we’re on is covered with maple leaves, many still retaining their color. I used to iron fallen leaves between sheets of wax paper to keep them shinny. Four years ago, University of Washington scientists got a grant to check the possibility of tapping big leaf maples here for syrup. Two good reasons to love them. Watch out Vermont.

But speaking of leaves, the dog has uncovered a loan oak leaf. Oak trees are native to the other end of the county so this little fellow has traveled a long way.

After drying up in summer heat, moss has returned, thanks to recent rain, and once again woodsy debris on the forest floor is softened by the versatile plant. Moss has been used for everything from surgical dressings by World War 1 doctors, to diapers by Native Americans. It’s a lovely contrast to gray-green bits of fallen lichen. I’m worried, though, because where I walk, moss is losing a competition to a ground cover

I’ve been unable to identify. The dog chases a squirrel into a cluster of Oregon Grapes. Both the Indians and the pioneers used it for medicine, food, and dye. But where we’re walking, there’s more salal than Oregon grape.It has sticky berries which, as a child, I used to put on my earlobes. The Indians were more practical, turning the berries into cakes, or drying them to treat indigestion, colic and diarrhea, and respiratory diseases such as colds or tuberculosis. Not to ignore the Oregon grape, though. It also had its uses, mainly to fight parasites and viruses.

The woods have lots of green, my favorite color. Sword ferns snuggle against Douglas firs which the Salish Indians used to ward off ghosts. When we bought our house, there was a copse of all these natives but it lacked two types of trees: cedars, which I brought in, and madrona which are notoriously difficult to propagate. My family had a number of elderly Indian friends who told me their women used madrona’s orange berries to make necklaces and various decorations. I recently learned that once dried, the berries have hooked barbs which latch onto animals for migration. How cool is that? Along our forest trail, the madrona’s peely-ochre trunks stand out among the green.

Eventually, my dog and I break out of the trees and into a little clearing, where we pass a spread of the ground cover, kinnikinnick. Before tobacco became the go-to plant for Old World smokers, folks happily puffed away on cannabis, but here the Indians sought out the nearest patch of kinnikinnick, a word that actually means “smoking mixture. Some articles I’ve read claim it’s becoming endangered. Sadly, for me, the sight of it means our walk in the woods is over. So, back to the kitchen I go.

 

I Survived Book Release Day - Hello Summer / Barbara Baker

 

Jillian of Banff XO is out in the world. Thank you to everyone who bought copies and made this possible. For a few days it held its own as an Amazon Best Seller and a Hot New Release in Fiction About Being a Teen. That was a wonderful surprise. 

The worry and fretting about release day has subsided and it’s fun to get messages from readers expressing their reactions and thoughts. I even received a few WTH texts which made me smile. Perfect. The story is getting reactions. Music to a writer’s ears. Trust me, all interactions with readers is greatly appreciated regardless of their comments or method of delivery.

After I receive each note, I put on my big girl panties and ask the reader if they can leave a review. It’s what writers live for and yes, I will admit, I force myself not to have the Amazon or Goodreads review page on speed dial. I’ve made a deal with myself to only check the reviews twice a month. Yup, I already blew it. I have to wait until August 1st to check them again. 

As a result of the release day hoopla on social media, I now have tons of new friend requests. And so many promises that if I hire them to make a book trailer or market my book, I will attain super star status. It’s hard to sift through so many requests to determine their authenticity, so I delete them all. I did pause at a couple that said they found my profile picture stunning. I was never this popular in high school. Delete. Delete. 

With all of it in the rearview mirror, it’s time to drop off books at libraries and book stores. That, in itself, is a treat. And then to see them on display, well … stop my beating heart. 

And now it’s time to settle down and enjoy summer. 

The traffic heading west out of Calgary every morning is an indication there are lots of people enjoying staycations.

Day trips to Canmore and Banff keep both towns hopping and regardless of the weather, sidewalks are busy with tourists. Few of them seem to mind the ongoing construction or crowds, as selfie sticks wave out of car windows or above people’s heads, and everyone merges on queue while locals carry on with daily routines hardly grumbling at all. 

But you don’t have to get caught up in the hustle of the townsites. Within minutes of setting out on a hiking or biking trail, you can leave the busyness of it all behind and find a quieter spot.

 

You might even be lucky enough to come across some wildlife but be respectful - stay back and give them their space.

Enjoy all that summer has to offer.

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

 What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 Jillian of Banff X0 | Universal Book Links Help You Find Books at Your Favorite Store! (books2read.com)

 

Frozen Pipes (the story behind the story) by J. S. Marlo

 

Undeniable Trait

is available now!

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J. S. Marlo's BWL Books

Many years ago, I lived in military housing on a northern Canadian Air Force Base. The house, which dated back to... to too many decades ago, was insulated so badly that the pipes running inside the outside wall in the kitchen froze every time the temperature dropped below -20C.

In order to solve my many complaints about frozen pipes before one of them crack and explode, the maintenance plumber made a hole at the back of one of the cupboards and installed a grill so the warm inside air could go into the wall and stop the water in the pipes from freezing. As long as I kept that cupboard door open, it worked, but it wasn't fool-proof below -30C. When it got really cold, I also had to let the water running all night, so the constant flow would prevent freezing. And in case you wonder... yes, there was lots of cold air coming out of that cupboard.

In my newest novel Undeniable Trait, Willow 'Mitch' Mitchell is a plumber, a good plumber who thinks outside the box, just like my military maintenance plumber from long ago. One day she's called to thaw the frozen pipes in the under-insulated trailer rented by the town's new doctor. Here's a preview of Willow and Dr. Zachary's second encounter:

Zachary took advantage of his lunch break to visit the patients’ wing where Susan and her fourth child rested in a double room. Her husband sat on the second bed cradling his infant daughter while his wife slept.

Unwilling to disturb them, Zachary backtracked and bumped into the female guard. “Sorry, Mandy.”

“I was looking for you, Doc.” She smiled a heartwarming smile framed by deep dimples. “The plumber will be at your house in ten minutes. I’m sorry I couldn’t get your pipes thawed any sooner, but there’s no queue jumping, not even for a doctor. Would you like me to go unlock the door?”

He’d never expected special treatment because of his profession. Besides, nobody was home. It didn’t matter when the plumber showed up to fix the pipes.

“Thank you, but the timing is perfect.” Zachary lived five minutes away and his next patient wasn’t scheduled to show up for another twenty-five minutes. “Going home gives me an excuse to enjoy a few breaths of fresh air.”

The breaths of frozen air he took between the entrance of the hospital and his SUV chilled his upper airway. He didn’t mind the cold, but from what he heard on the radio, the Arctic front that had settled over northern Ontario intended to overstay its welcome.

A white utility van was parked in front of his trailer and an individual bundled into a yellow hooded parka and carrying a toolbox knocked on Zachary’s front door.

He pulled into his driveway then rushed outside. “I’m coming.”

The individual spun around and the hood of his parka fell backward, unmasking the plumber’s identity. “Doc?”

The look of surprise on her pretty face matched Zachary’s.

“Willow?” He suddenly recalled their conversation from last night, and her occupation hit him. In retrospect, he should have clued in when she mentioned the toilet tank. How did I miss that? “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

She raised a brow. “You’re my important client?”

Embarrassment threatened to redden his freezing cheeks. “Client, yes, but no more important than any of your other clients. I had a patient in labor, so Mandy offered to call. I apologize if she tried using my profession to get faster service.”

“I never gave her a chance to give me your name—or your profession. You ended up at the bottom of my list the moment she said nobody was home.” A mischievous smile blossomed on Willow’s lips, wrinkling her eyes. “Are you going to let me in? It’s your fair turn right now, but if it makes you feel better, I could push you further down my list.”

“I like fair.” Amused, he unlocked and invited her in. “How’s your hand?”

“It’s sore.” She took off her boots. “I only had time to change the bandage once since I thawed my first pipe. I’m guessing my crazy day resembles yours at the hospital.”

“Crazy sounds about right.” Yesterday she’d mentioned a hot water tank during her visit, which was another clue he’d missed. “Have you replaced that water tank yet?”

The dubious look she served him answered that question. “I have three more clients after you, then I’ll tackle the tank, assuming no other emergencies arise. So, which pipe froze? The one in the kitchen, in the bathroom, or both?”

“Kitchen only.” It never occurred to him, until now, that shaving and enjoying a hot shower had been a luxury he almost missed this morning. “I shut off the main valve and turned all the faucets on to release the pressure.”

“Good.” She disappeared down the hallway. Moments later, pipes rattled in the walls and water rushed into the bathroom but nothing in the kitchen. Then silence filled the air.

The frozen water hadn’t thawed, but it didn’t sound like any pipes had burst. All in all, Zachary supposed it could be worse.

Willow entered the kitchen where she opened the cupboards beneath the sink. “The insulation in the walls is minimal. If Chester wasn’t such a scrooge, he’d winterize his trailer properly, but since he’s not the one living in it, he doesn’t care.” She pointed a flashlight at the space underneath the sink. “If you bend down, you’ll see there’s a vent on the back panel.”

He knelt beside her. Her shoulder brushed his, prickling his skin. Confounded by the strange feelings she stirred up, Zachary forced his mind to focus on the cupboard. The light shone on a grill covering a large hole. Cold air escaped the opening.

“Who installed a vent there?” From his position, he couldn’t see any dial or knob to close it.

“I did.” She leaned the flashlight in a corner then retrieved a screwdriver from her toolbox and proceeded to unscrew the grill. “To stop the pipes from freezing you need to keep the cupboards open when the temperature drops below minus twenty.”

“Good to know.” The open doors allowed the ambient air to enter the vent and warm up the pipes, preventing them from freezing. That makes sense. “Why do I have a feeling my heating bill will cost me a bundle?”

“Because you’re smart?” A sassy smile played on her lips. “Actually, it’s not fool-proof. Below minus thirty, you also need to let the water run in the kitchen sink, the bathroom sink, and the tub. And don’t forget to open the cupboards in the bathroom as well.”

The continuous flow would stop the water from freezing in the pipes, which meant he needed to pay particular attention to the weather if he worked all night or if he went on vacation. “What about the washer?”

The grill tumbled in the cupboard.

“Those pipes run in an indoor wall.” She plugged in a heat gun, a tool he’d used in the past to remove paint, and she pointed it at the hole. “They’ve never caused any trouble, that I know of.”

“That’s not reassuring me.” No wonder Chester was so eager to sign the lease.

* * *

Undeniable Trait received a 4-star review from Amy's Bookshelf Reviews last week. Click here to read.

Undeniable Trait is available in ebook and paperback. Click here to purchase.

Have a great summer & Happy reading!

J. S. 

 

 

J. S. Marlo's Website

Research on the Porch by Eileen O'Finlan

 

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We've finally entered my favorite season. I wait all year for summer, so when it finally arrives I do all I can to soak it up. It just doesn't last long enough in New England. However, writing, for me anyway, tends to be an indoor pursuit. If I'm working on a novel, I'm at my laptop indoors. If I'm doing research for a future novel I'm usually in my home library, on the internet, or at a pertinent historial site - mostly indoors. This is not condusive to enjoying summer weather. Yet I can hardly take the summer off from researching and writing especially given that I work a full-time job - also indoors. And, frankly, I wouldn't want to.

I think I have hit upon a solution. Recently, on an absolutely gorgeous weekend day, I took the book I'm currently using for research for my next Irish novel out onto my front porch along with my notepaper. I have a little bistro set out there with just enough room to set up what I needed. It was perfect. 

The next book in this series, which will follow Kelegeen and Erin's Children, will be set in Worcester, Massachusetts. Since it takes place during the 1860s the American Civil War will figure prominently in the story which means a lot of in-depth research for me. Fortunately, I love this part of writing historical fiction.

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Although I am in love with my new home library, I think the porch will be hosting me and my research books a lot this summer. After all, it's hard to resist this view...

                                  

...especially when it's combined with the company of my favorite muse:

Autumn Amelia

Thank you, organ donor!

For a fun summer read, 

https://books2read.com/Prospecting-for-Love
 

July is my birthday month, and this year, I had to renew my driver’s license. So I made an appointment, drove to the center and got in the queue. When my turn came, I gave the lady my old license and she asked if my height and weight were the same. “Close enough.” Then she asked if I still wanted to be an organ donor.

It wasn’t the first time I thought that without someone else being a donor, I wouldn’t be here. Back in 2010, I had moved to Tennessee for a new job, and within two months of starting, I was hospitalized for emergency surgery and while in recovery, my blood work came back abnormal  and I was transferred to the cancer center with ALL (Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia). At 60 years of age, I was attacked by one of the cancers most known for affecting children. No precursor, no warning. I had had a thorough physical just before accepting my new job. Now I would be doing eight rounds of chemo, in the hospital more days a month than at home. I couldn’t work or drive; barely ate. My vision was bad to the point I couldn’t write, which was my passion. Many of you probably know the cancer drill.

When I was growing up, I don’t recall hearing of someone with cancer, whereas nowadays, just about everyone has someone close to them affected by the disease, which takes many forms. Perhaps we’re more aware because of modern media methods, or perhaps it’s because the medical field can diagnose sooner and more accurately.

As of June 2024, an estimated 1.6 million people in the United States are living with blood cancer, which includes leukemia, myeloma, Hodgkin lymphoma, and non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Blood cancer is a serious illness that occurs when abnormal blood cells grow out of control and crowd out normal cells in the blood, bone marrow, or plasma. This prevents normal cells from developing and performing important functions. Of that number, an estimated 437,337 people are living with or in remission from leukemia. In 2024, the American Cancer Society estimates that about 62,770 new cases of leukemia will be diagnosed and 23,670 people will die from the disease.

Fortunately, there is a cure for some Leukemia in the form of bone marrow transplants. We don’t often think of our blood as “an organ” in terms of transplants and while donating blood is done quite often, donating bone marrow is a more involved process. The hospital looks for a donor who matches in as many as ten different markers, not just a blood type as you might think. My sisters and brothers and several nephews and nieces volunteered to be tested but there were no matches. My children couldn’t be donors as they had half of my DNA.

Luckily there is the National Marrow Donor Program (NMDP), which operates Be The Match, the world's largest and most diverse registry of potential bone marrow and blood stem cell donors. Be The Match works with a global network of partners to facilitate transplants, including 180 transplant centers and 19 public cord blood banks. It has over 7 million registered donors in the US, and fortunately, through this organization, they were able to find a perfect match and I had a bone marrow transplant in April 2011. The donors are anonymous and all I ever knew was it was a female in her thirties -- a lovely person willing to take the time and go through the extensive process for someone she did not know. That was thirteen years ago. Thirteen years in which I have been able to resume writing and watching my grandchildren grow into their teens. Thirteen years I would not have had without a donor.

So at age 75, when asked if I wanted to be an organ donor, I wasn’t sure much would still be useful, but my answer was a definite “yes.”

 Another Happy Birthday!

Barbara Baldwin

http://www.authorsden.com/barbarajbaldwin

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Barbara-Baldwin/author/

https://bwlpublishing.ca/baldwin-barbara/

 

Summer Camp by Julie Christen

 

Niece Elise and Josie the Aussie (2024)                 Order a copy today here!

    I had my niece come stay at our farm for a week. She's ten years old, and this was her second summer at Christen Horse Camp. I never had kids of my own, so I tend to gush a bit on my sisters' and brother's kids. You know, sugar them up and send 'em home. 

    When I was a kid, Mom and Dad did the same thing - they would send each of us kids to stay at Grandma and Grandpa's place for two weeks. We were kind of lucky because both my mom's folks and my dad's folks lived pretty close to each other out in Sheldon and Alice, ND. Two of the tiniest towns you ever will find. But it really had nothing to do with the towns. Our visits were all about life on the farm and experiencing a world so very different from our little house across the street from Little Detroit Lake in Minnesota. And even though we, as a family, traveled out there practically every other weekend throughout the school months, spending time alone - no parents, no little brothers, no older sisters - was a whole other experience.

    Each of us kids got our own week with one set of grandparents. So say I went to Grandma Ruth and Grandpa Richard's (my Dad's Wavra side) place first, while one of my sisters or brothers went to Grandma Olive's and Grandpa Frank's (my Mom's Spiekermeier side). Then after a week was up, we would all meet at the café in Enderlin and swap out. 

    Both places had their own unique features, and we did very different things.  Grandma Ruth's and Grandpa Richard's was a tiny crop farm with an itty-bitty house. The house had a living room and a kitchen/dinette. The only bedroom was in the scary, stonewall basement with the only bathroom and old-time washing machine complete with a careful-or-it'll-crush-your-hands electric wringer. I slept upstairs on the hide-a-bed, thankfully, but I could still hear the snoring coming from down there every night. 

    While Grandpa Richard worked out in the fields every day, I would help Grandma Ruth hang laundry, weed the garden, and bake cookies. She bought the "fun" sugar cereal like Sugar Pops and Froot Loops too. What a treat! She also gave me nice drawing paper so I could mail in a picture to be displayed on the Fargo evening newscast during the weather bit. Made me feel like a celebrity. 

    One of the neatest parts of staying there was playing in the bunkhouses. This farm had no animals (to my dismay), but the old bunkhouses (once used long ago for migrant workers) were more magical to me than Lewis Carroll's wardrobe! They were filled with old toys, clothes, wigs, trunks, and even a creepy mannequin that received many-a-make-over by me. I swear, every time I entered one of the three bunkhouses, I would find new treasures to imagine with.

    Just a short 45-minute or so drive away was Grandma Olive's and Grandpa Frank's farm. They had cattle, pigs, cats, a dog, and chickens! So many outbuildings and haybales to climb around in. Grandma let me feed the chickens the slop pail from under the sink every day. I would collect eggs with her and watch how she handled them. I'd tell her all the names I'd given each one, but I don't think she remembered them. 

    Since Grandma Olive spent so much time in the kitchen getting meals ready for whoever would be coming for dinner or supper, I had a ton of time to go exploring. Into the cottonwood treeline, I'd go. I built forts, identified birds and their songs, hunted for berries, and read my Black Stallion books out there. Bachi the big, fury, wolf-like farm dog and I would wander down shelter belt paths lining the fields and pastures. I'd stir up the freshest cowpies ever on those hikes. 

    In the evenings, we played cards and watched the news. I had my own room upstairs with a pretty poster bed and gauzy curtains that swayed from the open window that overlooked the tidy, fenced-in front yard. I remember listening to the mourning doves as the sun rose and sitting at a little desk to write in my journal.

    Little did I know just how many of all these memories would find their way into my first novel Nokota Voices someday. Reading my own book takes me back to all of it.

    I started my own summer camp somewhere back around 2004. My oldest niece was nine. I remember worrying that she might get homesick, but we tried just a long weekend, and she did fine. Each year after that, I got a little better at entertaining, and she got more and more comfortable staying. Since then, all of my nieces have come for a custom-fit version of summer camp with me.

    We sip coffee and hot cocoa while we read a book out loud on the porch in the morning, and sometimes we do our hair together and try on some make-up. Then we walk Nester the donkey with the dogs. We do a lot of horseback riding and grooming too (lot-o-braids). We go for bike rides and hang out with the chickens learning each of their names. We make crafts, bake, cook, and watch a ton of Heartland. 

    The girls always help with chores: sweep the barn (which can easily turn into a dance party if we crank up the music), scoop the poop, weed the gardens and flowerbeds. They also practice driving the tractor and the riding lawn mower. Sometime, if they're old enough, my husband gives them a ride on the Harley!

    I'm exhausted by the end of the stay, but it's the best tired I could ask for. 

    

Snake Oil by Jay Lang

 

 

Visit Jay Lang's BWL Author Page for Purchase Information

This suspense novel was challenging as if assembling a large puzzle with the pieces all one color, delving into themes of drugs, abuse, and the loss of innocence.

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But it was also a labor of love as the lead character, a university student, struggled to find her strength, (I love it when the protagonist is faced with adversity and instead of curling up in the fetal position, they choose to stand and fight.) A lot of the rhetoric in this book is displayed in a colloquial way, making the characters more relatable. I love to read a well written book, but if the dialogue is too uniform, too perfect, I have a tough time connecting with the characters.

While writing this novel, I was a university student and had access to all of the on campus sites that are mentioned in my story, adding an authenticity to my claims. I think the hardest part I encountered while writing was the drug parts. I’ve never done drugs so research was necessary. Thankfully, I was able to sus out credible resources online to educate myself. The local police department, a resource I use for info from time to time, were also very useful and provided interesting details about current drugs on the street. It’s amazing how informed one becomes after writing a lot of books. From speaking with law enforcement, forensics, fire investigators, coroners, and psychiatrists, I’ve learned so much on my writing journey.

As for the title, Snake Oil, I’ve always been partial to that name. In fact, I liked it so much that while I was designing clothes for rock musicians, I studded the words in antique studs down the leg of a pair of jeans. In this book, Snake Oil is the name of a designer drug. If you get a chance, pick up a copy of this book and please leave a review, I’d love to know your thoughts.

Thanks for reading!

Jay

Dammit. I’m a suspect. by donalee Moulton

 

I've recently been doing a lot of book readings from Hung Out to Die, my first mystery book, which BWL published a year ago. I thought I'd share the scene where the main character, Riel Brava, finds a dead body -- and finds himself a suspect.

  Click here for purchase information.

FROM HUNG OUT TO DIE

I’m reaching for the hallway switch when I notice a light three doors down. That’s Norm Bedwell’s office. And that’s unusual. Our comptroller is typically among the last to arrive. Only a fresh honey cruller from Tim Hortons has ever changed his timeline.

I’m running to Norm’s office now, tirade at the ready. The only thing that can prevent the outside security system from working, aside from someone hacking into our server, is if the door doesn’t latch firmly behind the entering employee. A loud audible click lets you know the system is armed, and then you can move forward. Employees are trained to wait for the click; if they don’t, an alarm will sound for two minutes, albeit relatively soft as alarms go. But at this time of day, no one is around to hear it.

It must be Norm’s fault, which may mean the system has only been down for minutes if he just arrived. It’s a question I’m tossing at our comptroller even before I’ve stepped inside his office.

Norm doesn’t answer.

He can’t because he’s swinging from a rope tossed over an open beam (the designer’s brilliant idea), a noose tight around his neck. He’s blue, but not as blue as I believe a dead man should look. This poses a dilemma. I need a few moments to assess my options and identify the safest and most effective course of action. However, I am aware I don’t have the luxury of time. I’ve seen enough Law and Order episodes to know if you don’t call the cops immediately, the delay in time will get noticed, and you’re more likely to find yourself on the suspect list.

Dammit. I’m a suspect.

This realization hits at the same time I’m dialing 911. The perky young woman on the other end asks how she can help.

“I’m in the administrative office of the Canadian Cannabis Corp., and my comptroller appears to have hanged himself. He is dangling from a noose and turning blue.”

“Sir, I have radioed for police; they are on their way,” she says, inhaling to continue with her script.

I cut her off. “Look, I know I shouldn’t disturb anything, but Norm may be alive. I’m going to grab his legs, so the noose doesn’t cut into his windpipe.”

Great, now she knows I understand how hanging kills someone.

It doesn’t matter. I’m going to reduce the pressure around Norm’s neck. His feet are tucked into the crease in my left arm, his testicles on par with my bottom lip. I’m not a small man, 6’2”, and I work out regularly, so I can maintain this, albeit a distasteful posture, for quite some time.

I hear sirens, and it hits me. The police won’t gain access to the building without destroying expensive technology. I explain this to the 911 operator. She is not that interested in the cost of our tech.

“I’m going to get someone to open the gate for the police,” I tell her. “That means I’ll have to hang up. I’m on the third floor of the admin building, inside the only office with a light on. My name is Riel Brava. I’m the CEO.”

New Releases for BWL Publishing Inc. July 2024 https://bookswelove.net

Books We Love Home 

New Releases July 2024

 

Visit our website for book details and purchase information

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BWL Publishing Inc. new releases July 2024

STRUNG OUT TO DIE

https://books2read.com/Strung-out-to-Die

Ranger Grace Watanabe discovers fellow Ranger Erik (Red) Petersen’s dead body tangled in the barbed wire at the Manzanar National Historic Site entrance. The local sheriff’s department quickly decides the death is related to a Mexican cartel who use the nearby highway to smuggle drugs.

Park Service Investigators Doug and Jill Fletcher look for a more obscure motive by focusing on other groups who might be unhappy with the Manzanar site. Finding no obvious suspects or motives, they step back and realize the victim was targeted for an entirely different reason.