Posts Tagged ‘Thanksgiving’

Last Minute

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November 23rd, 2022 Posted 7:06 am

Peanut oil? Check. Propane? Check. All systems go. Or at least some. Meanwhile, here’s an Amazon reader yesterday on Bark To The Future, the most recent Chet and Bernie novel:
“This one WAS literally and figuratively a cliff hanger. Love the Bernie Chet series. They never let you down! A great read.”
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Thanksgiving

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November 22nd, 2022 Posted 7:27 am

Thanksgiving comes up from time to time in the Chet and Bernie series. Here, from Dog On It, is what I believe is the first mention.

A guy with big shoulders and a gun on his hip led us across vast green lawns to a huge swimming pool. On a deck chair by the pool lay a fat old man in a tiny bathing suit. His skin was oiled and deeply tanned, just about the color and texture of a turkey Leda had left too long in the oven one Thanksgiving. I tried not to look.

 

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(Not) Beginnings

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November 21st, 2021 Posted 8:16 am

Normally on Sunday we do beginnings, taking a look at a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker™. But we’ve got a special week coming up, so here, from Dog On It (first in the Chet and Bernie series – which can be read in any order!) is the first mention of Thanksgiving in C&B:

Albie Rose lived in the biggest house I’d ever seen, more like a palace, surrounded by high walls. A guy with big shoulders and a gun on his hip led us across vast green lawns to a huge swimming pool. On a deck chair by the pool lay a fat old man in a tiny bathing suit. His skin was oiled and deeply tanned, just about the color and texture of a turkey Leda had left too long in the oven one Thanksgiving. I tried not to look.

 

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Thanksgiving …

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November 25th, 2020 Posted 8:00 am

… comes up from time to time in the Chet and Bernie series. Here, from Dog On It, is one of the earliest references:

Albie Rose lived in the biggest house I’d ever seen, more like a palace, surrounded by high walls. A guy with big shoulders and a gun on his hip led us across vast green lawns to a huge swimming pool. On a deck chair by the pool lay a fat old man in a tiny bathing suit. His skin was oiled and deeply tanned, just about the color and texture of a turkey Leda had left too long in the oven one Thanksgiving. I tried not to look.

 

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The Books



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