At the Movies: DEATH ON THE NILE, by Agatha Christie and Kenneth Branagh

 

Played hooky from several deadline projects the other day and went to a matinee of DEATH ON THE NILE.

I know I saw the version with Peter Ustinov as Hercule Poirot, but it was so long ago I couldn't remember anything about the story except it took place in Egypt, on a boat, someone died, and Poirot was quirky and brilliant.

WOW ...

Lavish, lush set, gorgeous costumes, all-star cast and brilliant director. Well, duh, knew that already, because I saw the first Branagh-as-Poirot outing, MURDER ON THE ORIENT EXPRESS.

The two hours went fast, and the story and acting and pacing just picked me up and carried me along to the stunning finish. Ouch ... now I need to read the book and find out just how closely the script followed the book, because you know Hollywood, everyone involved has to leave their fingerprints on the project, and changes to suit an agenda seem to be encouraged. (Don't get me started about the total gutting job done on Andre Norton's science fiction book, Beastmaster, when it was turned into a sword-and-sorcery flick. Bleah ....)

But bottom line: no matter what changes were made, this is a gorgeous, stunning film, well worth escaping the winter bleahs and blahs to experience.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

So now we had to determine if the doppelganger was something new. Maybe another enemy had decided to make a move since Big Ugly had been seriously handicapped when he gulped down a whole bunch of Rival minions and whatever poison they were trying to pump into Eden. Talk about bad indigestion. Or maybe the doppelganger was just another face of the returning enemy that most recently had struck at us through the vampish Kerri, she of pale hair and skin, and black clothes.

All in all, not a good way to bring in the new year.

Especially when London and Sherwood informed us that with the energy signature of the doppelganger Kurt and Jane had dealt with, they had been able to backtrack all the tiny blips in the defensive field of Neighborlee. They had tracked down the place and time when the doppelganger got inside. Accessing a traffic camera on the Cutterville side of the intersection, they had identified Daniel's car crossing the border. So the next question was if the doppelganger had imprinted on Daniel, so it was stuck wearing his face when it tried to infiltrate the party at Eden. If so, did that mean it would always wear his face when it attacked, if it ever attacked again?

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

"Something got lucky and squeezed through during an ultra-low dip," London said, taking up the explanation from him. "The energy signature matches whatever was bouncing off the shield on the Neighborlee side for more than two hours." She winced a little. "During a matching ultra-low dip in the modulation."

"We've altered the program so it doesn't go that low again," Sherwood hurried to add.

"So it couldn't get out -- that's what it was doing the whole time we were chasing it?" Kurt said. "Bouncing off the inside of the shield, trying to find a weak spot or low point?"

"And something else, either a partner or another entity like the doppelganger, was waiting and trying to penetrate the shield, and latched onto your phones when you flew out," she said.

"Why not another enemy altogether?" Maurice shrugged. "Sorry to be the downer in this war council, but you gotta consider the possibility."

"He's right," Angela said, "but that leach signal that latched onto Lanie's phone also caught onto Kurt and Jane's, correct?"

That was true, and we tried to see it as a positive -- we only had one enemy to deal with. Of course, we weren't sure how large the team was now attacking us, but that had to be better than facing enemies on two fronts, right?

 

Off the Bookshelf: SHROUD OF DARKNESS, by Deborah Cullins Smith

 

The Last of the Long-Haired Hippies series, Book 1

As the author will tell you, I don't really choose to pick up dark fantasy, or anything tending toward horror. Although I did add a book on writing Christian horror to my writing library. Just to be prepared if a book slammed me across the back of the head, demanding to be written.

The Last of the Long-Haired Hippies is a three-volume set that grows in darkness and tension as the story progresses. I know this because the author told me so. And dang it, as soon as I finished book 1 I pulled book 2 off the to-be-read leaning tower of impending avalanche to start reading immediately. Because the story snagged me.

This is Victoria's story of healing, and being dragged unwilling into exploring her rebellious past. A runaway flight at sixteen across country to San Francisco and the hippie movement and a time in Woodstock. All the darkness that was planted in those days now is coming to surround her and haunt her small town, and destroy lives.

It begins in small ways, with a little boy looking for his missing puppy, and finding it brutally killed in what looks like an occult ritual. And the nasty shock when Victoria prepares to welcome a rising star author to her bookstore and discovers the man whole stole her innocence and nearly dragged her down with him.

That's all I'm gonna tell you. Prepare for rapid-fire book reviews every week until this series is done, because I'm not going to be reading anything else until this story comes to its end.

And yeah, the author is a friend. But that's not why this story caught my dip-one-toe-in-the-water-in-fear-of-sharks attention. It's good. 

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 "You all picked up a signal that's sort of like a parasitic vine," London reported. "It's weak, mostly just sucking at power right now, but we're worried that it's trying to wear down your security programs and get at vital information."

"Fortunately, you beefed up our security so nothing short of another artificial intelligence can get through. Right?" Kurt said. He sounded a little tense. Yeah, I could understand why. Tonight should have been romantic and entirely focused on him and Jane.

"Hey, I'm not exactly a fan of all this high-tech stuff," Maurice said, waving his arms. "Seems to me even on a lot of those shows the guys love, with all the computers and spaceships and such, the simplest fix is to just shut everything down and reboot, right?"

We all sat very still for about five seconds. Then London laughed. She nodded and held up her hand for a high five. Maurice flew over to the tablet and slapped at the screen. Less than a minute later, we had shut down our three phones, Sherwood verified the leach signal had vanished within ten seconds, we turned our phones back on, and everything was back to normal.

"Okay, so somebody is on the outside, tampering with the shield again?" Jane said.

"Looks like it," Sherwood said. "We were focusing on the shield, playing with some of our modulation programs, after Pete and Meggie saw something on an episode of Stargate. We've set up a pattern that doesn't repeat until nearly 500 modulations of the frequency. That's kind of taking up more of our attention than we anticipated." He shrugged. "Sorry."

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

However, something had effectively closed a heavy door on the signals for our three phones. The link still functioned, just strong enough to know we were there, but nothing could get through. My signal had cut off when I went to the door to confront the doppelganger. Kurt and Jane's phone links got squeezed, or maybe strangled would be a more appropriate word, when they crossed the border, in their effort to follow the doppelganger.

"So how do we get it back?" Kurt put his phone down on the table next to my tablet, where Sherwood's image gave a very good impression of a sleepless night.

"We're working on it." He glanced off-screen, which really wasn't necessary, since he wasn't physically anywhere.

Just to show how my brain was starting to fog up and not all the cylinders were firing in synch, I wondered just how many mannerisms London and Sherwood had picked up from us. Was it conscious? Was it deliberate mimicry? Was it something they couldn't control, and they were becoming more like their models, Doni and Cosmo, every day?

The screen split and London appeared in the right half. She was wearing her favorite outfit of black Greek fisherman's cap, black sweater and multiple fine silver chains. Actually, that was Athena's favorite outfit about a year ago. So what did that say about the AI's mimicry? 

Yeah, I really needed to get horizontal and turn off the lights before my brain entirely imploded. I was getting sidetracked a little too easily.

Off the Bookshelf: HOW TO WRITE A NOVEL USING THE SNOWFLAKE METHOD, by Randy Ingermanson

 

I've had this book sitting in my iPad library for a while now ...

Could somebody please tell me WHY I didn't read this sooner?

Well, maybe because whoever I heard talking about the snowflake method gave me a really twisted, off-the-mark idea of what was involved, and I was getting psychosomatic hives thinking of all the nitpicky work.

As in dozens of pages of character charts and psychological analysis and writing out a description of each scene and all sorts of anal-retentive-to-the-maximus work before I wrote one word ...

It ain't so!

For those of you who consider yourselves mega-pantsers, this won't interfere with your method. And it's adaptable so that the most organized of plotters will be happy and cozy.

The big word is flexibility.

And yeah, going back and revising, the more you learn about your characters and setting and their goals and dreams and fears and values and figuring out what will work -- yeah, BEFORE you write that opening scene.

The really fun part is that our esteemed teacher presents this as a story -- appropriately, set at a writing conference. There's conflict, fear, shame, old secrets and grudges, humor, angst, suspense, and discovery. Whew! Essentially, as our heroine Goldilocks learns to prepare to write her book and know where she's going and more importantly WHY she's going there in the story, we also learn along with her.

This is one of those writing books where it makes sense to go back and re-read it every few months, as a refresher course. If you haven't read this one yet ... don't be like me, and let an itchy fear of hives get in your way. Read it!

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 "So what happened?" Maurice asked. "It imploded? Or it escaped?"

"We're not really sure," Jane said, after the two of them exchanged those looks that always implied compressed communication. "About ten minutes after that experiment of becoming visible to it again, it came to a place where we could see the shield. It was sort of glowing, just for a few seconds, but getting stronger as the doppelganger approached it. Again, no color we could recognize."

"And when it leaped, it got through?" I guessed.

"The creepy thing sort of flashed and this spiderweb of really ugly, dirty light spread out from the spot where it hit the barrier," Kurt said. "Then it was gone. If it blew up or it got through the shield, who knows? We had no trouble crossing the border and we flew up and down along the general area, looking for signs. No more trail of bruised light, no footprints in the snow, no humming feeling. Nothing."

"Weren't the kids doing something with the shield?" Pop asked after several minutes of everyone around the table looking thoughtful. "I mean, yeah, it's a little embarrassing to realize that this shield we've talked about around our town for years is real, know what I mean? We've kind of sidestepped it, almost joking about it, but now to realize that yes, there is a dividing line, and it's been protecting us, or not protecting us because it's been sabotaged …" He shook his head. "So if the kids have been monitoring it, checking out its health or whatever, maybe they felt something?"

Maybe I was finally tired, but it took me until he finished talking to realize Pop meant London and Sherwood. And what he was saying made a lot of sense.

We got a few more surprises when Kurt stepped into my office to get my tablet, so we could contact our friendly AI's with a screen all of us at the table could look at. We discovered Sherwood had been pinging me. And hadn't been able to ping Kurt and Jane.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

"And all this time, did it still look like Daniel, or did it take on its real face or shape or whatever?" Pop asked.

Good one. I hadn't even thought about that aspect of the doppelganger problem.

"Not really sure," Jane said after a few moments when she and Kurt wore almost matching frowns of concentration. "It was just a shape. Like a silhouette against all that rippling light that wasn't exactly black light, but not really any color at all."

"A man shape, yeah," Kurt said. "Maybe it got thicker than Daniel, and taller, but definitely a man, as opposed to a woman or a kid."

"I'm sorry," Pop said, "but I have the feeling none of the books in our library really cover something this or even offer hints. Angela, we might be camping at your place for the duration."

"I would be disappointed if you didn't pursue this," Angela said. "Whether this is a new enemy or puzzle, or simply a new face or ploy by Big Ugly or this Kerri woman … we need answers if we are to properly fight it. What disturbs me is that the creature seems trapped inside our borders."

"Nope." Kurt shook his head, giving us a grim little smile. "If it was still here on our turf, we'd still be tailing it and taking notes."

Off the Bookshelf: AVENUE OF BETRAYAL, Spies of the Civil War Book 1, by Sandra Merville Hart

 

Releasing February 8

The start of a new historical romance series by Sandra Merville Hart, whom I have the pleasure of knowing through ACFW.

As someone who usually doesn't read historical, unless there's some fantasy element involved, I'm probably the last reviewer readers should listen to. Especially since I'm biased because Sandy is a friend. I agreed to read and review because I've read other stories she's written, and I knew I was guaranteed a touching story, well-written.

That being said, this is a captivating novel of intrigue and heartache, and a glimpse behind-the-scenes of a painful period in our country's history. Even if you don't normally go to the historical or the romance section of the bookstore, you really should consider reading this.

Who are our longsuffering heroine and hero?

Annie Swanson is the daughter of an influential banker in Washington, D.C. Her father is immediately under suspicion because he has roots in Rebel territory. Things get worse when her brother, who married into a Southern family, musters into the Southern army. It's a painful development for their entire family, and becomes the first of many secrets Annie must keep.

Then along comes John Finn, her brother's friend. They met at her brother's wedding and shared not just a slightly forbidden kiss, but several dreamlike days. He has been striding through her dreams ever since. John is a sergeant-major in a Boston regiment picketed near her home. Their reunion and the rekindling of her romantic hopes are overshadowed by an unpleasant assignment handed to John: spy on the Swanson family, take advantage of his friendship with them, to determine if they are loyal.

Mr. Swanson's actions seem suspicious, colored by the concerns of John's spy master. Whose side is he on? Will his actions destroy Annie and her sister Beatrice's futures? What about their brother, serving in the army? What happens when the fateful day comes that he and John come face-to-face on the battlefield?

Not going to tell you. Because you really do need to follow Annie and John's journey of learning to trust and hope, and yes, suffer from a situation they can't control.

Take it from someone who usually doesn't read this genre. Dive in and enjoy the bumpy ride to true love.

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

 

"When it first ran away, it went in a straight line for the nearest border," Kurt reported. He reached for the deluxe oatmeal cream pie he had been eyeing since he and Jane sat down at the table. "What?" he said, when she and I exchanged grins. "Is there a boobytrap or something hidden inside? Something only girls are supposed to like eating?"

"It's a recipe we came up with," I said. "We're just curious if you'll like it, that's all."

"Uh huh." He glanced between us a few times, then opened his mouth as wide as it could go and took a bite. He closed his eyes and chewed a few times. Paused. Opened his eyes. Turned the pie over a few times, examining it. Then chewed a half dozen more times, before taking a swig of tea to wash it down. "Umm, Jane … did I ask you to marry me yet?"

"Changing your mind?" She leaned back in her seat, shoulders shaking slightly from repressed laughter.

"Heck no! This would just seal the deal if I hadn't made up my mind already."

The rest of us laughed, and Kurt nearly inhaled the oatmeal pie. Too soon, though, the light moment passed. He returned to what he had been saying.

"The freaky thing is, it hit the line where Neighborlee met Cutterville and it bounced back. There was a flare, a color of light or energy I've never seen before." He shook his head, contemplating his empty mug for a moment. "It seemed like there was a matching flare on its body where it hit, around the shoulders and upper arm, like if a linebacker tried to bulldoze through a defending line. That flare faded when it backed up and changed its angle. Then it hit the shield again and bounced back even farther than the first time."

"We've spent most of the last few hours following it around, staying on the Neighborlee side of the border with the surrounding towns," Jane said. "Each time, the same flare of some kind of energy we've never seen before, and that flash of bruised light where it ran into the shield. Each time, it waited until the bruise faded to brown before it tried again. The whole thing was starting to feel a little frantic near the end."

"Yeah, I could almost feel sorry for it," Kurt said, through a mouthful of his second oatmeal pie. "The weird thing is that I was pretty sure it couldn't see us or even sense us, hidden in the Ghost field. But that was the only way we could see it. We experimented about an hour ago." He checked his watch and nodded. "Yeah, just short of an hour ago. We stepped out of the field, and the thing vanished. We brought up the field again and there it was, trying to get over the border into Darbyville. It slammed against the shield five or six times before it gave up and ran away."

New release sample: DAWN OF THE LIVING PROOF

Telling about the little encounter didn't take very long. Taking it apart detail by detail and speculating and comparing with old folk tales and things Maurice could remember from lessons in his childhood took us the next three hours. I knew Mum and Pop wanted to ask Maurice about the kind of lessons a Fae child would have to learn, and anything he could share about the Fae Realms equivalent of the boogieman. They just made little notes in their ever-present notebooks and kept the conversation on the topic of my particular boogieman.

Angela was unusually silent, meaning either she didn't have any information to add, or she felt now was not the right time to tell us what she did know. Or maybe she needed to do more research. We were discussing the whole vampire concept of being unable to enter without a welcome when Kurt and Jane came back. They had something interesting to add, and just reignited the whole oogie sensation in my gut all over again. 

They had been inside the Ghost field when I gave the doppelganger a hard mental punch in the chest. That spot where I hit it had given off a purplish glow among the red trail of energy the doppelganger left behind when it fled. As they chased it, the purple faded to green and then brown, like a bruise. As the colors changed, and going by the analogy of a bruise, as the doppelganger healed, it moved faster. Kurt and Jane had stayed back, just keeping it in sight, hoping it would lead them to its nest -- bad mental image -- or to the place where it had come through into Neighborlee.