Dear Readers

Fear not the Darkness, But What Lies Within, The recesses of our mind, The creepy cobwebbed corners,That lingers on and tickles us,With tingle feelings of alarm, The deep in the stomach, Pain we feel when we do warn, The fear is deadly it seeks, The deepest corner of our mind, It's just a story to alarm,Educate and provide entertainment for our minds. So read on dear reader, I hope you find the stories amusing and full of charm.






Wednesday, December 18, 2019

Sean the Leprechaun~ A Christmas Story

     

Going across some of my beloved mother's papers I found a surprising thing she too had written about the Christmas that stuck in my mind when I was young. I think it's my Christmas present from her and now you can read it.My story is included in my new paperback and e-book Visions of Sugarplums. http://amzn.to/1ROfgLL







In the story  she wrote of my imaginative nature;  she also included details I forgot.  It  did happen as she wrote them (in true fact I love her story)so I am going to give you another Christmas treat and post my mother's story for you.  The twist? It begins with a leprechaun. Yes, you read that right. Picture the Elf on the Shelf only dressed all in green and in my mind more magical. Read on and enjoy. 







Sean the Leprechaun~ A Christmas Story

             Sean was leprechaun. Actually to be completely honest he was just a stuffed doll. He’d been in the family for years and the children had never been allowed to play with him. He was hung in the window by a safety pin through his hat. Because of the children’s love of fairy tales over the years many tales had been made about him consequently the children began to believe he was a real leprechaun. In appearance he was quite ugly; about twelve inches tall; had long spindly legs, a sharp pointed nose and a tense disfigured face that had aged and discoloured to an ugly mahogany.

         For some unknown reason every time something bad was going to happen we would find him turned inward. I always blamed it on air currents but the children insisted he was warning us and that the pin hurt. Sean had tried to warn us when we travelled out to British Columbia that something was wrong by turning around in the car window and then we’d blown a tire. After that he also turned around when the car almost went over a cliff. My oldest son joked that the leprechaun was vengeful and the younger kids believed him.

            My husband insisted that the leprechaun wasn’t warning us Sean wasn’t vengeful or a savage, but a doll. That the tire had just blown and he’d made a mistake in geography getting too close to a cliff; but my young daughter, Sheilagh as she said her prayers that night said ...”and please tell Sean will get him a new suit if the car doesn’t break anymore.”
She then said to me. “We can, can’t we Mommy?” I reassured her we could; then realized he was faded. I promptly forgot about it.

                 Over the next few months we settled in and Sean was installed in the front window with a beautiful view of the mountains but he insisted on facing in. nothing went right the job my husband was offered caused allergic reactions and asthmatic attacks and then the old injury that had caused us to relocate reared again and my husband was hospitalized.

               During a family conference I explained how there wouldn’t be expensive presents and my oldest daughter blurted out to the younger ones there was no Santa and I had to admit that was true. My youngest daughter insisted with the surety of youth a child there was a Santa. That in fact she believed Daddy was sick because I hadn’t made Sean the suit I promised him and then of course she started crying about not getting a Chatty Cathy. She finished all of this with tears flowing down her face.

           The next day I took Sean down from the window and searching throw my scrap cloth and wool box. I found enough to make a new suit.
When the children came home from school they noticed right away that Sean was missing. Wanting to surprise them I told them Santa’s elves had the flu and Sean had gone to help him in return for a new Christmas suit. This made them happy and reaffirmed their belief in Santa. Even though they somehow understood even Santa didn’t have a lot of money either. They not only accept this idea but demanded bedtime stories of Sean and Santa.

         That Saturday I turned on a Santa television program for them and imagine my surprise when I heard Santa say,” All my elves are down with the flu and my friend Sean has come to help me.”
The camera panned to a doll that was the spitting imagine of Sean.
Muttering “I don’t believe it I went upstairs to look for Sean in my scrap basket. I took everything out piece by piece but I couldn’t find Sean. Following a sleepless night after sending the children to school I wondered where I could have lost him. I searched again and found Sean under a sock that needed darning. How I missed him the first second and gazillion time I don’t know.

         The next day my husband was released from the hospital came home and getting a licence shot a deer for Christmas dinner even though it hurt him to kill such a magnificent animal. We were happier. there was food for Christmas dinner.
Christmas morning Sean was back where he belonged in the window facing out, in his brand new suit. The doorbell rang at five a.m. and I found gaily wrapped presents outside the front door with the children’s names on them.  There had been a light snowfall overnight but the only tracks were hoof prints and two straight lines like those of a sleigh.

         We all stammered “What? Where? Why? How?”, as we looked  at each other in wonderment at the lack of human footprints and the two long lines where something big had rested.
The parcels were opened and to sounds of delight as it revealed a Chatty Cathy doll cuddled tightly, a pair of figure skates, a Bowie knife and a make-up mirror, a large toy crane and a model airplane.

         I found out later that the toys were supplied by an elderly lady who befriended the neighbourhood children and who had given all the children a Christmas party’ but neither she, nor anyone else could explain the lack of human footprints. Sheilagh was sure that she was Mrs. Santa Claus and had brought Sean back with her and the presents. That is why she always wanted us to give generously after that to charity to assist Santa with Christmas presents for others.

        Was Sean really a magical leprechaun? I am no longer sure. some things maybe coincidence but others have no explanation . The only thing I’m sure of its that it was the best Christmas ever.
THE END

I hope you enjoyed my mother's story.  My daughter now has Sean and has promised him another new suit, not bad since his last one was so long ago.

Merry Christmas!! Happy Holidays!!

Tuesday, December 17, 2019

Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays Treat Excerpts

Happy Hannukuah starting Sunday December 22, 2019
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate and Happy Holidays to all others. this is your holiday treat, Please scroll down below the books for excerpts and two additional surprises.


The following are three excerpts from Christmas Is Calling 
and Visions of Sugarplums available at Amazon
and The Christmas Card  
 The Christmas Card

if you'd like to purchase the book or books just click the title it will take you to a link to do so.
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Angels We Have Heard On High

It was unseasonably warm a week ago and winter’s chill had come in a fury. Now the snow came down in not small clumps, but like someone throwing snowballs. I was cold hungry and I needed shelter for the night.

“I’m sorry; if only you’d come sooner, the shelter is full.” the person at the shelter called the Inn of the shepherd said as I looked in to see a Christmas tree burning brightly.

I had myself a bitter laugh. Here it was Christmas Eve and there was no room at the Inn. I looked around, no stable to be found, but a cardboard box from some large appliance someone was getting for Christmas lay before me.

How I remembered those Christmases of excesses, when money was plenty. When my life was different, and I had the love of my life by my side, but all of that was gone in the blink of an eye. I lost my job and then chased away my love, with anger and bitter words. Mary had then withered and died. Then I had lost my home and dignity, as I now walked the streets, living day to day on handouts.

I lay down to sleep on the cold ground, wrapped inside my box. The wind was bitter and bitingly cold. I pulled my ragged coat tighter round me. And still the cold battered me. I was almost asleep when I heard the heavenly music, the choir singing ‘Angels We Have Heard On High’. Before I had even thought about it my lips were singing the song too and I started wishing for an angel to take me out of the cold on this chilly night.

Suddenly before me appeared a woman, at least at first I thought she was a woman. I somehow knew without a doubt this was an angel. Her hair was dark, her wings hidden close to her back, small and almost invisible; until that is she bent forward and then the wings unfurled to their full size. They were majestic wings that from wing to tip each were six feet long and dark black in colour like a crow’s wings. I questioned why had I been sent a dark angel? Was I so unredeemable?
“Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings,” she admonished, as if she read my mind. Then she continued, “Lionel, I thought you were different and showed no prejudice.”

“Sorry,” I apologized, ashamed and suddenly frightened.

“Lionel, my dear man, and yes you are a good man; fear not for I have watched over you all your life. You need not dread me.”

“You’ve watched over me? Then where were you when I needed you?”

“I have been beside you. I have seen your best and your worst, and so has the almighty. You’ve learned much in the last week, and the almighty has seen your kindness, when you had so little yourself. He saw you give your last dollar to that teenager who was hungry.”

“Is that why the almighty finally answered my prayer?”
“Lionel, my dear man. Who stood with you when you needed shelter? Who found a meal for your empty belly? Who lifted your feet and made them light, when you felt you could walk no more?”

“The almighty was with me?”

“Yes, he made the unseasonable mild weather. He made the lady see that you needed money for food. Remember how surprised you were that she gave you a twenty?

“Yes.”

“Come Lionel. Come with me to your reward. There will be no more pain, no more trial, no more sorrow, only his light,” she said taking me by the hand and pulling me into glorious light.

Light, all-encompassing peace and joy, everlasting enveloped me and there just in front of me, my dear wish, my wife.

“Hello Lionel. I’ve been waiting for you,” Mary said as she hugged me.

“Poor beggar, he died during the night.” I heard from far away.

But that life had no meaning for me anymore, I became light and felt nothing but peace and joy. So I had one request from the almighty. Let me share this love and joy at Christmas to all those deserving ones. And so God rewarded me. With Mary by my side, we are Christmas angels. We help the most deserving and see they get the Christmases they need. So if you feel that joy and that tug at your wallet this season, open it and share what you can. Make someone’s Christmas as special as mine.
©Sheilagh Lee December 6, 2012


******************************************************

Home Invasion

He crept swiftly passed the sleeping girl, checking to make sure she didn’t hear his footsteps on the threadbare carpet. She stirred slightly and he paused for moment, taking a huge breath hoping she wouldn’t hear him. He slipped passed the boys room, as the cat almost tripped him. He worried that his large frame would make more noise and awakened the family before this job was done. He continued down the hall past the parent’s bedroom.

Softly his feet patted on the carpet and then a little harder on the wooden stairs as he tiptoed down them.

He entered the family room and spotted some baked goods left on a plate. Tempted he took one off the plate and thought about eating it. He then looked down at his round belly and almost stopped but then he thought dieting for woosies. Besides he could diet in the New Year after this job. The baked good dry and appetizing almost made him not eat it. But he was hungry, or at least he thought he was, even as he felt it go to his stomach like a lead weight, he continued eating. When he finished the baked good, he walked around the living room. Where he looked was bare, hardly anything filled the room. A well-worn chair well-loved covered in duct tape to hold it together stood in the corner. A sofa long and looking saggy was there covered in a crochet blanket to hide its flaws.

In the corner of the dark room stood a Christmas tree; if you could call it a tree, calling it a tree would be kind. The tree looked like something out of Charlie Brown’s Christmas. He stared at it for a few moments, watching the twinkling lights. A single strand blinked at him. He then decided to get the job done before this family woke. He took out his bag looking for his tools. He found them and quickly completed the job. Placing the tools back in his bag, he packed up and snuck out of the house.

The girl woke first and as she went into the living room, she squealed waking the boy who came running in response. The parents came next, worried about the screaming from their child.

The parents stood their shocked and puzzled staring into the living room. The whole family gazed and looked in shock at their living room. Where once a duct taped chair stood;. its depilated state an eyesore in the room, a leather chair was now positioned.

And not just any chair, a La-Z-Boy chair that could recline. The sofa was leather too and matched perfectly. A rug, a beautiful tapestry of figures on horseback, and with golden threads, appeared under the furniture. And in the corner where their Charlie Brown Christmas tree had stood, a beautiful Douglas fir stood in its place. It fairly glowed with the five hundred lights strung around it. The ornaments they’d placed so lovingly on their tree were there, with many more new ones filling the branches. And underneath the tree a bounty of riches, many pretty packages layered beneath the tree.

“I don’t understand this,” retorted the father, shaking his head.
“Me either,” the mother claimed, covering her mouth in wonderment.

“It was Santa Claus,” insisted the children.

“It must have been,” mother agreed. “Thank you, whoever did this. Because of you, my children will have Christmas. God bless you ten-fold.”

“Yes, thank-you Santa and God bless you,” the girl child reiterated, opening a present and squealing to find a Justin Bieber doll.

The man who had crept into the house sat in his home, his feet in front of the fire warming them.

“Did they hear you?” asked his wife.

“No,” he replied.

“Did your brother, Paul help you with the furniture?” she enquired.

“Yes, we got it all in and I used my tools to make sure it was all put together right.”

“And the tree did it fit?” she wanted to know.

“Yes, and it was beautiful,” he commented “The presents are all under the tree?”

“Yes, dear, including the Justin Bieber doll, Ellen wanted,” he stated happily.

“They don’t know who did all this. Do they?”

“No, they’ll never know their neighbours got together and did this,” he answered.

“Good. I hope they believe Santa Claus did all this.”

“Of course after all it was Santa Claus,” he replied, with a wink and touched his nose.

“Santa needs to go on a diet,” his wife commented.

“Yes, a little treadmill and then his belly won’t be so jolly,” he laughed. “I need a couple of hours sleep then we can have our Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, come to bed Santa.”

“Merry Christmas, to you too honey, and to all a goodnight.”

~0~
©Sheilagh Lee December 6, 2012


The Christmas Card


    She remembered the Christmases of long ago; the smells of cloves and clementines, the taste on your lips of sweet candies, mints and striped candy canes. She wanted to see the interactions of people at the stores this time of year. It was almost like she could pretend she hadn’t gone through hardship her entire life and that she was one of those happy shoppers. That she wasn’t invisible in this life. That she didn’t spend every day cleaning offices at night, seeing no one.

Grace Philips made a decision she would go home grab her mad money, get some breakfast and then shop for some foods for Christmas, maybe she’d even buy a small present for herself. As she walked to the nearby dinner she saw her mailman hefting his brimming mail bag.

“Hello, Grace. I have some mail for you,” he said handling Grace what appeared to be some bills, then he continued delivering his load of mail and parcels.


Grace continued onto the diner, opening bills as she walked. When she reached the diner she sat down and ordered and began to open her mail. Opening an envelope out popped a Christmas card. Who would be sending her a Christmas card? Inside the card tied with a lovely red ribbon a ring with a small diamond and a matching wedding ring. She read...,

Dearest Grace

Forgive me for not writing to you sooner, I’ve not had time to write, as the war drags on, and we try hard to kill the enemy and keep ourselves alive. Suffice to say, I can’t even tell you where I am right now, or what I am doing. I can’t tell you much more than this as loose lips, sink ships and campaigns in this war. But know that you dwell in my heart and mind.

The night we met was the greatest night of my life. The room crowded and warm, everyone disappeared as I looked at you. Dance after dance, I felt your body, warm and inviting next to mine, as the music played. When the music ended, I never wanted to let you go. I fell in love that night and I longed to spend all my time with you and did so every chance we got.

I want you to know I have enjoyed your beautiful letters and your stories of your everyday life. They have kept me sane, when bullets reined over my body and the sounds and echoes of rockets burst over my head. I look at your picture every day and carry it close to my heart. I love you with all my heart. I know the ring enclosed isn’t large, but it’s all I can afford. I’ll be home for Christmas and if you feel the same as I do meet me in the diner where we first met on December twenty-fourth wearing my ring and tell me yes. I can hardly wait for you to be mine. If you agree we will be married on Christmas day.

If you don’t show, I’ll understand and take that as a no, and never bother you again.

Love your, Roberto


She didn’t know any Roberto. This card wasn’t meant for her. She glanced at the envelope, it said Grace; but the last name was smudged. In the corner of the envelope she read December thirteenth, nineteen forty-two. How was this possible? It was twenty fourteen. The card had been lost in the mail. Obviously the first place to look was at the address.

It was the same as hers. This Grace had lived in her apartment. Poor Roberto, had he sent this ring to be rejected because it was lost in the mail. And what about Grace had she still found her Roberto? Grace decided then a there she would look into this mystery and return this ring to Grace. As she entered her apartment building, she found herself happy and looking forward to the future. Maybe, just maybe, she could find out who this Grace was. Then at least she could let Grace know Roberto loved her.


It had been eons though since this Christmas card had been sent, what if the recipient had died? Or Roberto died? It was time ago. What if she told Grace or Roberto and detonated a long term marriage? Maybe she shouldn’t be looking into this? No, if she were Grace, even if she’d moved on she’d want to know that once Roberto loved her. Who could she ask? The first person to ask was the lovely old lady in 3 G. Mrs. Donnelly had been here since the thirties. Of course, Mrs. Donnelly, her landlady, the woman had lived her a long time. She was ninety-five years old, but spry and very aware. Maybe she could tell Grace where she could look? Mrs. Donnelly might know Grace of the Christmas card. She had a Christmas present for Mrs. Donnelly; she’d take it to her and ask about the mysterious Grace who had the same first name.

( read the rest of the book by buying in either kindle or paperpack with link   The Christmas Card

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Finding Christmas Spirit 
“I have no Christmas spirit this year,” I commented, The rouleau on the tree even bores me.
“Rouleau you sound so pretentious just call it trim.
The point it the orphic symbol of Christmas doesn't excite me.
“ Using pervious words doesn't change the fact that, that makes two of us, Holly,” my brother Zach answered, “I miss them too.”
“I’m so selfish forgetting you lost them too. You saw through all my silly words. How do you do that?”
“I have an idea what will make us happy,” Zach answered.
“What have Christmas… just the two of us? You’re always full of ideas, but it’s the follow up that’s the problem. I’ll be cooking the dinner.”
“Come with me to the mall,” Zach begged.
“You’re crazy; the mall is zoo this time of year, a week before Christmas.”
“Just follow me Holly. Come with me and you won't be sorry.”

          Holly reluctantly followed her brother.  He took her to the toy department and she felt like a kid again as they laughed and played with some of the toys. Zach put some of the toys in a cart. Then he went to the toiletries department and bought things that Holly could use. But why was he buying all of these things in front of her she wondered? Zach laughed and whispered in her ear and Holly understood.


        Holly picked up toys and some men’s toiletries and put them in her cart. Then she and Zach split up Zach going to the women’s clothing her to the men’s department. When they were all done they met at the front of the store laughing and smiling they paid for the goods. Them they went into the mall and in the centre of the mall near Santa they placed all their gifts. They had found Christmas after all.

©Sheilagh Lee December 12, 2017



Wonder

The wonder of Santa Claus
Seen through children’s eyes
Brings back treasured memories
Of Christmases long ago
The anticipation of Christmas morning
The family gathering too
Seen through rose-coloured glasses
The bittersweet remembrance
Siblings gone too soon
Of parents gone too
Forgotten for a moment
Lost in the anticipation
Of the celebration
So long ago.

©Sheilagh Lee December 5, 2017






Merry Christmas, Happy Hanuakah,Happy Holiday whatever you celebrate I hope you have fun.

Monday, December 2, 2019

Wake


                                            WAKE
  The funeral began promptly at 2 p.m., people stood up and said glowing tributes which made me laugh and smile instead of cry.. My wife accepted all the condolences with grit and composure that no one would have expected of her; but she loved me and she wanted those who mourned me to have comfort before her own.
I couldn’t stand in anymore and I stood up from the back of the funeral home room.
“You bastard!! You’re not dead!!”Yelled a number of people.
“You should be dead!!”yelled my sister.
““That would be a sight worth seeing,” my grieving wife stated.
“I can explain,” I offered.
“Let’s hear it,” my twenty-one year old son insisted.
“I’m dying I have about six months but I wanted to see if anyone would care if I was gone.”
“You jerk! We’re you just going to take yourself off somewhere for the next six months while we grieved? ”asked my son.
“I hadn’t thought that far,” I admitted.
“We’re going home we’ll have the wake today everyone is invited back to our house for a party that is if you can forgive my husband,” my wife stated.
We had a rip roaring party that rocked the neighbourhood.  Then the doctor called the next day it seems he got the results mixed up with another patient and he claimed I could leave for another fifty years.  My wife says not if she can help it. she still hasn’t forgiven me but I’m working on it.

©Sheilagh Lee  December 2 , 2019

Monday, November 11, 2019

Kith and Kin Remembered ~ We remember your sacrifice

 

Kith and Kin Remembered 

       My dad was a born storyteller. Some of his stories I took with a grain of salt, except those that were also confirmed by my grandmother. My grandmother confirmed this story, so I feel safe confiding in you. My dad was always fascinated by war and the strategies of war. This began at early age when my dad met relatives at the Timothy Eaton estate in Owen Sound when a young child. 

     What relatives did my dad meet you ask? The two flying aces of World War 1, Billy Bishop and Henry John Burden who he met at the family party. You see Billy Bishop is related to me sort of; let me explain, he was married to my dad’s cousin (you figure out how many removed) Margaret Eaton Burden. Therefore so is her brother, Henry John Burden. Their grandfather was Timothy Eaton,( yes, those well known Eaton's in Canada, related to Timothy Eaton the department head king) . My great-great-great grandfather was Timothy’s brother. Have I confused you yet? 

       When young, my dad went to picnics and summer retreats at the Eaton’s estate in Owen Sound, This particular summer he met the two flying aces. Billy Bishop's home was in England at the time, but he had come home to Canada and met with relatives at this party. 
       Now to a young boy so interested in military history, just being introduced to them made him think he was in seventh heaven, but when they found the boy so knowledgeable about military history they were happy to talk to him of their service as flying aces. My dad thought the two men intelligent articulate and was thrilled that he was related to the pair( if only one distantly and one by marriage).  They were kind to the young boy and his older brother who craved male attention since their parent’s divorce. Dad and his older brother Gordon spent that day just enjoying the stories and soaking in all the information they imparted. This time they spent with him had an impact on my Dad, he wanted to join the air force when he got older or at least some part of the military.  It made his interest in military history come alive even more so and you’d often find the boy with his nose in his book, when he wasn’t hunting and fishing. It may have also made his older brother, Gordon join the war effort as a soldier as soon as the Second World War began. Uncle Gordon became a leader and worked behind the lines in special forces efforts in the Second World War. It didn't hurt that my Uncle Gordon had a genetic ability that assisted him. He had an eidetic memory meaning that he saw something and he could remember it all in vivid images.I'm sure that was difficult for him after the war and part of the reason he never spoke of what he did during the war. As I told you reader once before Uncle Gordon was believed killed at one point and his family grieved for him for months only to have a miracle happen finding out he was severally injured but alive. While my father tried to sneak off to war at thirteen years old but my grandmother retrieved him in Halifax before he boarded a troop ship that later was torpedoed. (see http://sheilaghlee.blogspot.ca/2011/11/three-word-wednesday-second-world-war.html)

     So on this Remembrance Day one hundred years after the start of World War 1, I remember the men who give their lives for their countries,and also the flying aces, Billy Bishop and Henry John Burden and my Uncle Gordon who served in Special Forces, and who were lucky enough to survive the war. Thank you all for you service.

My Uncle Gordon and some friends
      

     And thank you to my father who told me about all the military battles and made me see the sacrifices that these men had made for our country. He made me see that period of time through his eyes, those living through those turbulent times and how hard it truly it was.



NB: Billy Bishop officially credited with 72 victories thus making him Canada’s First World War flying ace the top Canadian ace of the war.  Billy Bishop was a touted as a Canadian hero and used as a morale booster to the Canadian people. Ordered to return to England and organize our flyers by June nineteenth, nineteen seventeen he couldn’t resist one last chance to take out more enemy planes flying behind enemy lines he took down five planes in fifteen minutes.   On August 5th, he was promoted to Lieutenant-Colonel and was given the post of "Officer Commanding-designate of the Canadian Air Force Section of the General Staff, Headquarters Overseas Military Forces of Canada." During the Second World War, Billy Bishop became instrumental in instructing and setting up pilot training for the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan. Billy Bishop received the Victoria Cross, Distinguished Service Order with Bar, Military Cross, Distinguished Flying Cross, 1914–1915 Star, and British War Medal 1914–1920. Margaret’s brother and Billy’s brother-in-law also a flying ace had 16 victories and received a Distinguished Service Order award and a Distinguished Flying Cross award. (source wikipedia)

To read more of Billy Bishop got to http://www.billybishop.net


    



                                    




 We remember and we honour our beloved soldiers. Thank you

Friday, June 7, 2019

Secrets



For my story Secrets

The first day at my government job so I was happy when my supervisor said he wanted to show me something not too many employees knew about.

“I shouldn’t let you into these secret government files,” Alfred stated.
“That’d be no fun; I’d love to know everything they’ve been hiding.”
“You can’t see everything but maybe I could show you this one file about our parents.”
“Our parents…huh?”
“You know that vaccine, the one that left them with a huge scar?”
I nodded. I read the file expecting maybe that the manufacturer goofed making the needle too big.
“Pretty wild huh.”
“It says that our parents were imprinted with a DNA scanner tracker that the government can track any citizen that got this. Holy cow everyone should know about this.”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“But I have to this is big,” I protested.
Just then the big boss came in the room and sounded angry, “Alfred, vaccination are important, if people believe your scam then they won’t vaccinate.” Then turning to me he said, “I have the scar, see Randy?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Do you think I’d still have one if the government could track me with it?”
“No.”
“Alfred you are officially on leave. Randy can handle your job until you come back next week.”

Alfred didn’t come back. I’m still on the job and although the vaccination story wasn’t true I could tell you a few stories that could raise your hair; but I won’t I love my job.
©Sheilagh Lee  June 6, 2019

Saturday, May 4, 2019

#New Release Untraceable #kindle #Paperback









Sheriff Bullet is devastated when Desk Sergeant Penny Ambercrombie is critically injured responding to a plane crash. Wanting to find the people responsible Bullet delves into only to find himself neck deep in Feds and cyber-warfare. One of the victims may be a Driftwood resident, the daughter of a computer magnet. Sheriff Bullet soon learns his own daughter and aunt have been kidnapped and maybe in greater danger if the Feds find out. Walking a fine line between withholding information and helping the Feds, he must trust that his Uncle Tommy can find his family members before the kidnappers find them useless. Before he’s done, Sheriff Bullet may find a conspiracy that reaches into the heart of American democracy and coming full circle, back to Driftwood once again.


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