Posts Tagged ‘beginnings’

Beginnings

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December 11th, 2022 Posted 7:21 am

Sunday is when we do beginnings, taking a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker™. Since the holidays are in the offing, how about It’s A Wonderful Woof, the Chet and Bernie Christmas/holiday novel? And this will get you started – when you open the book you’ll be able to skip right to the second paragraph.

The Muertos throw the best Christmas party in the whole Valley. The Valley’s where we live, me and Bernie. It goes on forever in all directions, and is almost certainly in Arizona, based on things I hear from time to time. That’s not important. Is it important that the Muertos are the roughest, toughest biker gang around? Maybe to you, but not to us. The Little Detective Agency deals with the roughest and toughest every day. Little is Bernie’s last name, I’m Chet, pure and simple, and the agency’s just the two of us. Why would we need anyone else? That’s the important part.

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Beginnings (Not)

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December 4th, 2022 Posted 7:56 am

Sunday is when we do beginnings, taking a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker™. But today how about an excerpt from Santa 365, a Chet and Bernie short story some folks like to read at this time of year? It’s available on digital and audio form, and this little passage seems relevant.

“Remind me of your sentence, again?” Bernie was saying.

“Four years,” Plumpy said.

“We can’t be even close to that.”

Plumpy nodded, one of those enthusiastic nods that make jowls wobble on humans that have them, which Plumpy did. “Paroled after eight months,” he said, “on account of overcrowding.”

“So you did eight months – “

“Less six weeks on account of good behavior.”

“ – for stealing one point two million dollars?”

“Stealing puts it in such a harsh light, doncha think?”

“But that’s what a Ponzi scheme is,” Bernie said.

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Beginnings (There ain’t no sanity clause.)

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November 27th, 2022 Posted 7:24 am

Sunday is when this small business takes a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker™. Since we’re in the holiday season for sure – satellite radio tuned at the moment to the Country Christmas channel – how about we go with Santa 365, the C&B Christmas e-short story, perhaps a good way to introduce a newcomer to the series? (As some of you may have noticed, this small business likes turning out dialogue from time to time.)

“There’s no Santa Claus,” Charlie said.

“Who told you that?” said Bernie.

“Esmé.”

“Who’s Esmé?”

“At school.”

“Well,” said Bernie, “everyone has their own opinion.”

“It’s not an opinion, Dad,” said Charlie. “It’s a scientific fact.”

“Oh?”

“From a scientist.”

“Any scientist in particular?”

“Groucho Marx.”

“Esmé told you that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Know much about Groucho Marx?”

Charlie shrugged his skinny little shoulders. “He was a scientist and he said there ain’t no Santa Claus.”

“What do Esmé’s parents do?”

“Drive her to school. Pick her up.”

“I meant for a living.”

“Like you’re a private eye?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

“I don’t think they’re private eyes,” Charlie said.

“Why not?”

“They’re rich.”

 

 

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Posted in Chet The Dog

Beginnings (Not)

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November 20th, 2022 Posted 7:16 am

On Sundays, we do beginnings, taking a look at the start of a Peter Abrahams novel, including those written under the Spencer Quinn moniker™. But today I’m going with the post I meant for Veterans Day. This is from Into The Dark, third in the middle-grade Echo Falls series. Unlike the Chet and Bernie series, Echo Falls should probably be read in sequence – Down The Rabbit Hole, Behind The Curtain, Into The Dark. So let’s get to Mr. Sidney, the old school bus driver who endured some of the worst that WW2 had to offer, talking to Ingrid and her friend Ty about Bataan, which of course is all new to them.

“Very next morning they had us on the road to the prison camp. Not going to talk about the Death March – you can look it up. Not going to talk about the starvation, or the disease, the heat, or what happened to anybody who lagged behind, even to drink from a mud puddle.”

“What happened to them?” said Ty.

“What did I just say?” said Mr. Sidney.

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