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AVOIDING SWINDLERS Book Blast
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
The book deals with actual situations that resulted in investors losing multi-millions of dollars to financial tricksters. Emphasis is placed upon learning how to detect early warning signs. Financial exposure can be minimized prior to situations deteriorating into bankruptcies. However, individual investors have to take specific actions after doing some homework. Otherwise, the alternative is to lose money by listening to “hot tips,” often involving publicly traded securities.
Some types of commonly seen but inappropriate financial reporting are permitted in certain countries (including parts of North America), even though they deeply aid the financial tricksters. Governments are seriously neglecting investors by not prohibiting certain reporting trickery. Overall, in some regions, investor protection is simply archaic (including allowing false advertising). Currently, investors face serious risks.
The book attempts to minimize technical language. Stress is placed upon encouraging investors to look for specific warning signs before opening their purses and wallets to the growing group of tricksters.
“Avoiding Swindlers” will change the way you look at Canadian investments.
This book was featured on Publisher Newswire’s 2022, “10 Books to Bookmark” list.
The book also received a glowing review from ReaderViews.
Read an Excerpt
Following 2011-2012, most Canadian public corporations (including many of those listed on the Toronto Stock Exchange, or TSX) introduced an entirely new income/profit concept for their investor financial reporting. In essence, hoped-for profits of future years were being recorded as income for today. What had really changed was the nastiness of financial reporting to investors had ballooned. Many companies began utilizing IFRS (International Financial Reporting Standards) in 2011-2012, which is hardly “international.” The IFRS regulations are generally far looser and judgmental in measuring “net income” than would be permitted to exist for U.S.-based corporations. Cause for investor concern should be especially high in Canada because governments have not prohibited nasty reporting that IFRS permits. For example, many real estate and infrastructure assets are being financially reported for Canadian companies based on barely-regulated management estimates of ill-defined “value.” Credibility should be a major investor concern. Bloated “income” causes serious consequences. Avoiding Swindlers 3 What becomes particularly scary for investors is that year-over-year estimated changes in these “values” are permitted under IFRS in certain industries to be reported as part of current year “income” before tax. The reported “value” increases do not arise from the pre-2011 rules that you have to actually have to have sold assets to third parties before declaring that income had been earned. Instead of requiring an actual asset sale to help prove the alleged increased dollar “value,” corporate managements (who could be receiving a bonus based on annual income before income tax figures) have been granted full “value” choice authority.
About the Author L.S. (Al) Rosen has combined being a university professor (holding a PhD) with several qualifications in the fields of investigative accounting and reporting (such as acting as a fraud examiner) for over 35 years. He has authored many reports for court cases, and has testified in courts in various countries in many large-dollar cases. Often the allegations are that investors have been deceived by materially misleading financial reports. He has co-authored two previous books, and articles, with his son Mark. They address how and why multi-million dollars of investor money essentially, and often quickly, vanished. Real situations are the subject of these writings. Money was stolen and hardships resulted.
https://www.amazon.com/Avoiding-Swindlers-Al-Rosen/dp/022888117X
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/avoiding-swindlers-al-rosen/1141888418
Al Rosen will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
BLOOD OF THE HUNTED Book Blast
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The Resistance Is Rising
Weylyn, Olwen, and other members of the marginalized and subjugated group known as the Tóráin are trying every day to gain equality and freedom. Their enemies, which consist of vile human monarchs, their soldiers, and a masked witch assassin known only as The Dove, continue to tighten their grip around the necks of the Tóráin.
Leading The Resistance, Weylyn and Olwen endure many trials that test them physically and mentally, relying on their loved ones to keep them from losing hope. They both wish to see a time of equality and peace, but to achieve that requires more than what they have. Desperation leads The Resistance to find new allies all across the continent of Kosavros with the goal of finally defeating their oppressive overseers.
Their fight for freedom and respect leads Weylyn and Olwen down paths that open their eyes to new dangers, both involving themselves and the rest of the world. However, they do not waiver. For the Tóráin are known for their resilience, and they have already endured much. What comes next will be hard, but they’re ready to fight for their lives. Together.
Read an Excerpt
I considered myself a fair-sized lycan. It wasn’t common for others to be taller or stronger than me, so fighting someone who was both of those by a wide margin was a difficult task. We wrestled on the floor for only a moment before he threw me off him, sending me down the hallway we had come from earlier. Quickly recovering, I kept my eyes on Greagoir as he got to his feet and growled. Both of us charged at each other this time, the hallway wide enough for Greagoir’s large frame. Right before we collided, I pounced on the wall and leapt off it, bringing my arm under Greagoir’s chin and dragging him down to the ground. He roared as he fell onto his back, clearly unhappy that he was bested. Foolishly, I had admired my good work too long, and Greagoir spun around, swiping at my legs with his massive arm. I fell, landing on my ass. Now on all fours, the large lycan clawed at me. He just missed my thigh as I pushed myself back and away from the small knives he called claws. I tried to get to my feet, but before I could, Greagoir leaped from his crouched position and caught me. He pinned my arms down with his massive hands and reared his head, showing off his teeth during a thunderous growl.
“A good try, but you can’t kill me. Around here, I do the killing.”
About the Author:
Marc R. Micciola lives in Ontario, Canada with his two dogs Rielly and Ace. He has a great passion for hockey, movies, and books. He possesses a book collection consisting of a multitude of fantasy stories. Many of these novels are from his favorite authors: Mark Lawrence, George R. R. Martin, Tom Lloyd, and J. R. R. Tolkien. His prize possessions are his two replica swords from the Lord of the Rings films and his growing number of fountain pens. When Marc isn’t writing, he’s spending time with his dogs, his family, and his friends. Photography and wood art are other things that Marc enjoys doing. Marc’s goal when writing any book is to put together a story that is enjoyable, emotional, and intriguing. If the words on the page make you feel something, then this author feels he’s done his job.
Buy the book at Amazon.
Marc Micciola will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
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THE ADVENTURES OF A SOUTHERN (BAPTIST) BUDDHIST Book Blast
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Pamela McConnell will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
This true story is about a girl who is born up north; into a conservative, fundamentalist/evangelical family—but then becomes a Liberal Buddhist.
Her family moves back to their roots in the Appalachian south, where Pam is molested by her grandfather. She later owns her sexuality by becoming promiscuous; beginning a pattern of serial dating, marrying, and divorcing.
She is first married at 18 to another 18-year-old, who gives her a beautiful son—but he is a redneck and they have nothing else in common. Her second husband is a talented musician but turns out to like sex with men. Her third husband speaks five languages and is a Pakistani, but he beats her up. Her fourth husband is a chef who makes delicious meals but turns out to be a felon and a crackhead. Finally, the love of her life neglects to tell Pam for seven years that he is married.
In the meantime, Pam completes two degrees and works as a counselor, and then 20 years as a hospice social worker. She begins her hospice career in Southern California, where she has moved to get away from the DEEP South. That is where she converts to Buddhism. From that point, she begins to look inward for the answers to her questions about life’s meaning.
Pam leaves the country after two failed relationships, some years apart. She spends a year teaching English in South Korea and goes from there to Pakistan with her third husband. In between, her dad dies and Pam reconnects and bonds with her mom, backpacking on the Appalachian Trail. When she leaves the love of her life, she goes on Pilgrimage to India and Nepal. The meaning of her life is coming into focus.
At the end of the book, Pam goes on a trek in the Himalayas, on the Annapurna Circuit. Just over the three-mile high pass is a magical Pure Land in Muktinath, with a Buddhist temple that is dedicated to the female Buddha Vajrayogini. With a new perspective, Pam has the realization that her Enlightenment is ensured; she WILL become a Buddha someday.
Read an Excerpt
Our fathers worked at farming factories, making things like Farmall and John Deere tractors. Although we all lived in the suburbs near the Mississippi River, I remember still: mile after mile of corn fields, as far as the eye could see. The North was flat with black dirt and straight roads, while the southern mountains were very steep with curvy roads and red dirt.
Corn was the view, as the two families all took the trip every summer, back to the brothers’ beloved mountains in the DEEP South. We stayed with both sets of grandparents. We kids usually slept on the floor with feather beds that made me sneeze. Mom’s parents still had an outhouse in those days, with actual Sears & Roebuck catalogs to wipe with.
Mom told a story about how after she got saved, “I was ‘convicted’ about wearing make-up and jewelry. Because of that, I threw my wedding band down in the outhouse potty. Your dad fished it out and wouldn’t give it back to me until decades later!”
I inherited that band several years after dad died, and still wear it today, but I’ve promised to pass it along to my niece.
About the Author:
Pamela McConnell, MSW, LCSW was raised in a fundamentalist/ evangelical Christian church and family. At age 34 she converted formally to Buddhism. She has recently completed a Pilgrimage in India and Nepal. Earlier, she spent two years in Asia: a year teaching English in S. Korea and a year in Pakistan with her 3rd husband. She worked as a counselor after earning a B.S. in Psychology. She worked as a hospice social worker for the last 20 years of her career after earning an MSW degree and becoming licensed as an LCSW. She is an avid backpacker and trekker, having done 500 miles on the Appalachian Trail and more than half of the Annapurna Circuit in the Himalayas.
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SILHOUETTE Book Blast
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On the night of a blue moon, while walking his dog, middle-aged widower Jim sees Gladys on the roof of a neighboring apartment building and is inspired to speak with her. There’s just one problem: she can’t hear him.
Indeed, Jim isn’t even sure that Gladys truly exists—that she isn’t just a rooftop patio umbrella silhouetted against the moon. Hampered by debilitating social anxiety, he cannot work up the courage to even wave.
Yet Jim returns to the same spot night after night, and Gladys—who is indeed real—sees him and becomes equally interested. She even contributes to their “conversation,” though he cannot hear her either. And while Gladys struggles with her own demons—self-loathing and depression—she is lifted by Jim’s attention, even as she describes how difficult her life has been.
Two characters, driven by sadness and a longing to connect. Will they?
Read an Excerpt
Tonight, I saw a rooftop patio umbrella move. Or was it a woman? It’s May 31, the night of the blue moon. I was taking my dog Gus for his nightly walk. On the rooftop of a building across the street from my apartment, against the light of the huge moon, I saw the silhouette of a patio umbrella. I’d been seeing that umbrella on that roof for weeks—months, maybe. Every time I walked the dog or snuck a puff on my cigar, it was there. Immobile and static. Always in the same place, always visible against either the daytime sky or the city-lit night. I had thought nothing of it, other than wondering if anyone ever used that patio. But tonight, I saw the umbrella silhouette move. “Son of a bitch,” I said. “What the hell is that? Was it the wind?” Startled, I tried to shake off an eerie feeling. Had the umbrella really moved? I don’t care for rooftop patios myself. I’ve been to 4 a few. You have to drag yourself up the stairs, hoping no one else is there when you arrive, so you can have a bit of solace. I always forget something downstairs.
About the Author:
Dr. Paul G. Swingle can be considered one of the founding fathers of Clinical Psychoneurophysiology, one of a select few, directly responsible for bringing Neurotherapy out of university labs and clinics to the general populace in the 1980’s.
His academic positions include, Professor of Psychology at the University of Ottawa from 1972 to 1997, Lecturer in Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School from 1991 to 1998, Associate Attending Psychologist at McLean Hospital (Boston), Head of the Clinical Psychophysiology Service McLean Hospital (Boston). Professor Swingle was also Clinical Supervisor at the University of Ottawa from 1987 to 1997 and Chairman of the Faculty of Child Psychology from 1972 to 1977. Dr. Swingle is a Registered Psychologist in British Columbia and is Board Certified in Biofeedback and Neurotherapy. He is actively involved in research and practice. His numerous publications include nine books and numerous peer reviewed journal publications.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Silhouette-Paul-G-Swingle/dp/B09C3D527K
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/Paul-G-Swingle/e/B09F2518KP/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_book_1
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AVALON Book Blast
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Avalon is now also available in French!
Some cats need nine lives to make a difference. Avalon only needed one.
From Amazon bestselling author Vanessa Morgan, Avalon is the heartwarming and once-in-a-lifetime love story of a girl and her neurotic Turkish Van cat.
With humor, the author details how Avalon made other creatures cringe in distress whenever he was around, how he threw her dates out by means of special techniques, and how he rendered it almost impossible for her to leave the house. Avalon was so incorrigible that even the landlord ordered to get rid of him. But beneath Avalon’s demonic boisterousness, Vanessa recognized her own flaws and insecurities, and she understood that abandoning Avalon would be the worst she could do to him. Thanks to her unswerving loyalty, Avalon transformed into a tender feline and even landed a major role in a horror movie. In turn, Avalon made it his mission to be there for his human companion.
Avalon is a memoir for anyone who has ever been obsessively in love with a pet.
Read an Excerpt
Ignoring the neighbors’ cats had diminished Avalon’s jealousy, but with four more beings in the apartment demanding my devotion, Avalon’s reality was still a far cry from his personal utopia, and new pet peeves were routinely added to his usual problem-seeking behavior.
Small changes often caused major disturbances. When we removed a DVD from the cupboard, or put a pen on the living room table that he wasn’t used to seeing there, Avalon pitched himself near the problem area and vocalized his complaints as if he was a muezzin calling to prayer. He only stopped if the space returned back to normal.
Intelligent and calculating as he was, Avalon had also developed a technique to prevent Ballon and Tigris from using his litter boxes. Each time he heard the scratch scratch scratch in the litter, he settled into attack mode behind the bathroom wall, wiggled his behind, and leapt onto the other cat as soon as it emerged, making it jump. It worked every…single… time. Proud, Avalon walked away from the crime scene with his nose pointing airwards.
Borat, our guinea pig, was initially the best one off, but ended up the most miserable. What kept him safe at first was Avalon’s fear of rodents. Cats may be considered deadly predators, killing a median of 2.4 billion birds and 12.3 billion mammals a year in the United States alone, but whenever Borat had free range inside the apartment, Avalon went in a large circle around him, avoiding him at all cost.
Eventually, Avalon ferreted out a way to make Borat twinge in distress whenever he approached. It started when I taught Avalon not to throw up on the bed and carpets. Those lessons must have been meaningful, because Avalon didn’t vomit in those places anymore. Instead he aimed for the guinea pig’s head. As soon as he felt a hairball mounting, Avalon ran as fast as he could toward Borat’s cage, leaned in, and puked his heart out.
About the Author:
Vanessa Morgan is the editor of the movie reference guides When Animals Attack: The 70 Best Horror Movies with Killer Animals, Strange Blood: 71 Essays on Offbeat and Underrated Vampire Movies, and Evil Seeds: The Ultimate Movie Guide to Villainous Children. She also has had one cat book (Avalon) and four supernatural thrillers (Drowned Sorrow, The Strangers Outside, A Good Man, and Clowders) published. Three of her stories have been turned into movies. She has written for myriad Belgian magazines and newspapers and introduces movie screenings at several European film festivals. She is also a programmer for the Offscreen Film Festival in Belgium. When she’s not working on her latest book, you can find her reading, watching movies, eating out, or photographing felines for her blog Traveling Cats.
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The French version of the book can be purchased at Amazon for only $0.99.
Vanessa Morgan will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
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BLACK MAGIC MURDER
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Careful what you wish for!
Graduating to a fully-fledged witch on my upcoming birthday should be a momentous occasion, but when a local hairdresser turns up dead, I know it’s going to be one hell of a week.
Saltwater Cove’s resident infuriating fae looks like a good suspect for the murder, but insists she’s innocent and reveals a huge secret too amazing to be a lie. But if she didn’t do it… then who did?
The murder triggers the return of a dark force… dark enough to send even the most experienced witches into panic mode. Harriet, Jordi and Tyler join me as I try to find the culprit, putting my magical abilities to the ultimate test.
When the killer strikes even closer to home, I need to up my game if I’m going to keep evil at bay.…or have I finally met my supernatural match?
Read an Excerpt
“I cannot believe you’re not going to have a birthday party!” Harriet said, dropping on the edge of my bed, disgruntled. “It’s not every day you turn twenty-five and become a full-fledged witch. Why would you not want to have a party? It’s a milestone to celebrate.”
“Parties are over-rated,” I blurted, holding a pink and black blouse against my chest and checking out the vintage look in the full-length mirror in the corner.
Not bad, if I say so myself. Lookout, Tyler, here I come.
“Harriet’s right.” Jordi joined her on the bed. Both my best friends stared blankly at me. These two women meant the world to me, and that was precisely why I was not having a party.
“I’m sure lover boy has a great night planned this evening, but what about the rest of us?” Harriet giggled. “How are we going to celebrate your birthday?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, choosing my words carefully. “Do you remember what happened when we hosted our last party at The Melting Pot?”
They glanced sideways at each other, and then Harriet piped up, “Please don’t tell me it was New Year’s Eve?”
My forehead tightened. “It certainly was.”
A grimace turned Jordi’s expression upside down. “I remember. Prudence McAvoy turned up dead in your pond. But when you think about it, that’s no great loss.”
“Jordi!” I said, three octaves higher. “That is a terrible thing to say.”
She shrugged. “Sorry, but we all know she was not at the top of my Christmas Card list. She made my life hell at school and after. She made my life hell…period.”
About the Author:
Polly Holmes is the cheeky, sassy alter ego of Amazon best-selling author, P.L. Harris. When she’s not writing her next romantic suspense novel as P.L. Harris, she is planning the next murder in one of Polly’s cozy mysteries. She pens food-themed and paranormal cozy mysteries and publishes her books solely with Gumnut Press.
As Polly Holmes, Cupcakes and Corpses was a finalist in the Oklahoma Romance Writers of America’s 2019 IDA International Digital Awards, short suspense category. Cupcakes and Curses claimed second place and Cupcakes and Cyanide gained third place making it a clean sweep in the category.
She won silver in the 2020 ROAR! National Business Awards in the Writer/Blogger/Author category and for the second year in a row, she was a finalist in the 2021 ROAR! National Business Awards winning bronze in the Writer/Blogger/Author category with Gumnut Press taking out the gold in the Hustle and Heart category.
2022 saw Polly Holmes’ books Muffins & Magic and Mistletoe, Murder & Mayhem long-listed in the Davitt Awards, a prestigious award run by the Sisters of Crime, Australia. Muffins & Magic also placed in the finals of the cozy mystery category in the Nashville Silver Falchion Awards.
She lives in the northern suburbs of Perth, Western Australia, with her Bichon Frise, Bella.
Polly Holmes will be awarding a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
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DAUGHTER OF BELIAL
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Some Family Trees Should Be Burned. . .
Greer Girls are special. Greer Girls are rare. Greer Girls are central to the secret Order of Belial.
Sophie Greer knows none of this. All she knows is that her now ex-boyfriend cheated on her, she’s alone working in Paris, and her mysterious billionaire boss, Edward Hughes, is way too interested in her life.
But when Sophie is kidnapped in Moscow while on a business trip, she’s plunged into the dark underbelly of the global elite and a sinister secret society with deep ties to her family; ties that lead to revelations darker than anything Sophie could have imagined.
Betrayed by the man who raised her, and targeted by the illustrious Hughes family, only one thing is certain—family history can be deadly. If Sophie is to survive, she must decide who to trust and what to believe, or risk being crushed beneath the weight of the all-powerful secret Order of Belial.
Read an Excerpt
The front door slams behind me with a clamorous thud. I jump, frightened. Marcella Belleville’s ominous laughter sails through the air while the cloaked beings descend the steps to encircle me. Turning to and fro, I try to slip through an opening in their ranks, but they close in so that not even a hairpin could find a fissure for escape. A low chanting starts up, like a rumble from some vile private inferno.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
The primal beating of the drums grows louder, drowning out Marcella’s maniacal laughter. Blood rushes to my face. I hear a whirring in my ears.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
All I see is darkness. My heartbeat keeps time with the pulsing of the drums.
Suddenly I feel another presence. Ephemeral. Sinister. It also laughs. Its guttural wails blend with Marcella’s tinny falsetto as it, too, encircles and envelops me. No one is touching me. I know that. And yet…
It feels like hundreds of hands are caressing my body. Sliding up and down the sides of my torso. Untucking my shirt. Unfastening my trousers. Cupping my breasts. Pulling my hair. Wrapping icy, tentacled fingers around my throat…
It feels awful—delectable—disgusting—delicious, all at once. I hate it. The chanting grows louder.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
Testor ad sanguinem. Respondendum est in sanguinem.
“Stop!” I cry out, finding my voice at last. “Please. Stop!”
But it’s too late. Wispy black smoke fills my nostrils. My mouth freezes into a silent scream as the smoke fills every orifice in my head—eyes, nose, ears, mouth. The sound of babies crying mixed with horrific images of children laughing and playing in blood assault my senses. I know it can’t be real, must be a trick of some sort, an illusion, but I’m powerless to stop it.
About the Author
JENNIFER JUVENELLE is a Native American/French author born in Hollywood, raised in Detroit, and fashioned in France. Formerly an actress and model, Jennifer now splits her time between crafting psychological thrillers and the magic of motherhood. A survivor of childhood sexual abuse, Jennifer made healing from trauma a priority when her life became untenable. Daughter of Belial is the unexpected product of her journey from trauma to triumph. An eager explorer, she currently lives in a remote Mexican seaside-jungle village with her debonair Aussie author husband and their young son.
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FOREVER ASKOLE
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
My name is Ella McAllister, I’m a psychic witch and a healer. My life is kinda nuts. Not only do I have the Coletti hunters chasing me, but now I also have a very determined Askole High Commander after me. Why? I shot his ship down and it crash landed, and it blew up. Yep, itty-bitty pieces everywhere. My bad, but his ship was a dead ringer for a Rodan Marauder, and it was my civic duty to blow the enemy spacecraft out of the sky. Wasn’t it? Any hoo, I healed his owies and boogied.
I thought that was the end of it, but oh no. For some unknown reason, Sariel, the Askole High Commander, decided I would make him the perfect mate. As if. I think the blow to his head made him completely bonkers.
Sariel informed me the mating dance had begun and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The idiot had obviously never dealt with a witch before. I didn’t have the time to play games with him, so I did a little abracadabra alakazam and ran.
Sigh. The persistent Askole found me. Now I have a decision to make. Keep running or surrender to the High Commander. He is a damn good kisser.
Would the mating dance bring two lonely souls together? Who knew?
Read an Excerpt:
“He was your lover?” Sariel queried in disbelief.
I cringed with embarrassment. “Briefly. I fell for his lies and didn’t see his true nature until he tried to sell me to the hunters.”
“I will never betray you or lie to you,” Sariel stated.
“So, you keep saying, but I’m not looking for a mate nor do I need one.”
Sariel’s tentacles stood out from his head. “A lie. Your loneliness drove you to bed a traitor.”
Ouch! “Okay, fine. I’m lonely, but…”
“I.”
“Am.”
“Not.”
“Mating with you,” I enunciated clearly.
“As a warrior, you can challenge me to combat to stop the mating dance.” Sariel’s rather toothy grin was alarming. “Do you dare duel with me?”
In hand-to-hand combat I wouldn’t last ten seconds. “How about I teach you a little-known fact?”
Sariel’s helmet formed over his head, and he asked warily, “What would that be?”
“Never mess with a witch. It doesn’t end well.” I shouted my power word, “Sufflamine!” A thunderous cracking boom rent the air. A second later, a shockwave of energy hit Sariel and flung him out into the ocean.
He hit with a big splash and sank beneath the surface. “Excellent tactical move.”
Seriously? He sounded almost proud of me. “Stay away from me or next time I won’t be so gentle.”
“There is no where you can run that I cannot find you,” Sariel replied.
About the Author:
I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea what a real emergency is. Take this for example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone I took up writing.
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C.A. Milson 