Sunday, August 19, 2018

Ham & Chaz – New Fiction Writing by Brower and Kruze

Ham & Chaz - New Fiction Writing by Brower and Kruze

Finding out you’re immortal as a teenager can set your world on fire.

But finding out at the same time that just getting angry could kill everyone around you can dampen that pretty quickly.

Who wants to live forever if you can’t get close enough to someone that they can piss you off and live to see the next sunrise with you?

Meaning – it was time to take a road trip to sort things out.

When my uncle offered a summer gig cooking out of his food truck for a big-city contract, I jumped at it.

But when he stopped to pick up another helper down the road, I was bummed. She was a looker, a great cook, but I didn’t know if I could trust myself with her – in every way…

Ham & Chaz – New Fiction Writing by Brower and Kruze


They were waiting for us before dawn.

Hungry people. Lots of them. Jean nudged my feet and I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

“No rest for the wicked.”

I rolled up our sleeping gear and stowed it while Jean went inside to make sure Hami was up – she was. And he came back out with a wad of her sleeping bag and pad for me to roll up and stow. Jean then went around back to start the generator. I heard Hami firing up the grill and soon got all the smells of it. Meanwhile, I unfolded the chairs again and set out the small condiments table. Hami opened up the screen window and passed out the napkins, salt/pepper packages, and plastic-ware.

Everyone was pretty orderly and started forming into lines. I heard some coughing, some sneezing, but nothing really serious. Of course, in the dark, it was hard to tell much beyond the yellow glow under our awning. I did see some white nurses and doctor’s outfits in the line out there.

The guys in front of the line just smiled at me when I gave them any attention. And I smiled back. Our work was cut out for us, but they were honestly happy to see us.

Jean was inside, doing a final check to see everything was in place. I pulled up a trash can and put a liner in it, one of many I could see filling today.

Then I headed inside the van to get started.

– – – –

The day rolled through with just enough breaks that we got our own meals in between. Jean showed up regularly, often riding up with someone’s delivery truck with more supplies.

Both of us got frazzled from working in the humid heat. And I had to take my “quick-counts” for “centering” myself often – just keep going on an even keel. Hami seemed to deal better with it than me. But she got to smile at the customers and seeing them smile back. Of course, I was focused right on the hot grill, while my bandanna kept my brow sweat wicked to the side and out of my eyes.

All I could see most of the time was the next order and the last one going out.

And Hami’s cute backside every now and then.

But mostly my mind had to stay on what I was cooking and my supply of hamburger and cheese. For our menu was simple. It had burgers and cheese in different combinations. And we never had any complaints.

By the lines, we didn’t have much competition, either. Jean had understated how much we were needed…

– – – –

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Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Hooman Saga: Book One – Fiction Writing: Brower, Kruze, Saunders

The Hooman Saga: Book One: C. C. Brower & J. R. Kruze & R. L. SaundersBefore the cities left, and plunged our world into a global dark age, there were stories that told that history.

Collected here are the works of three authors who have been telling scraps and pieces of what happened.

All through the eyes of the people (and animals) who lived it. Some are fantastic, others could be tall tales, perhaps some are downright lies. But that is all why they had to be published as fiction.

Because few people would believe it, even as a TV documentary.

All highly speculative. And that’s why it’s called Science Fiction. But its a very human telling. You may even find yourself in here…

This anthology containing:

The Lazurai Returns by C. C. Brower & J. R. Kruze
Snow Gift by C. C. Brower
When the Cities Left, I Danced by C. C. Brower
The Lazurai by J. R. Kruze
A Sweet Fortune by R. L. Saunders
Our Second Civil War by R. L. Saunders & C. C. Brower
Becoming Michelle by R. L. Saunders & C. C. Brower
Mind Timing by R. L. Saunders & C. C. Brower
When The Wild Calls by C. C. Brower
The War Bringeth by C. C. Brower
…and many more.

Hooman Saga: Book One – Fiction Writing: Brower, Kruze, Saunders


Each with a thundering roar, the cities took flight.

Cities — whole cities — roared into the atmosphere, their protective globes turned red and then yellow with the reflections of the exhaust.

Their fusion reactors scarred the skies with fume trails. Any place on earth you could see them rise. All the 50 United States and all the major countries who could afford the technology had cities flying that day.

They turned their major cities into a one-species “Noah’s Ark” to save humanity from itself. Take the best and brightest, and all who could fit, up past the atmosphere and beyond it. Seek a “new life in the stars.”

This statement came from the last international broadcast. And it played out at its end with a great symphony chord.

Unstated was the little-hidden fact that the richest corporate heads and their families and investors all traveled on-board as well, first class.

The Arks took temporary station along the “ring of pearls” – those satellites in orbit protected by the same shield as the cities. For a while, their glow added to those pearls. But one by one, those pearls extinguished. Some, with powerful enough Earth telescopes, could see them absorbed into the cities.

Around two weeks later, the cities one by one moved out as a string of their own towards the moon.

Later, a hail of meteors followed in their wake. We didn’t know what those were at first. The last radio transmissions we could receive said they were falling into desolate areas. We couldn’t check this as the cell phones and land lines had all quit working at that point. The towers still worked locally as long as they were solar powered. But just as quickly as the Internet had died, all intercontinental communications ceased.

Because that “ring of pearls” they’d taken with them were all the major satellites that still worked. While they were also in orbit, they were scooping up all the other “non-vital” satellites and orbiting debris as some grand ecological gesture. These either burned up when they ran into the Arks greater power fields or were just absorbed into them…

– – – –

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Case of the Forever Cure: Fiction Writing – Cruze, Brower

Case of the Forever Cure: Fiction Writing - Cruze, BrowerWhy I was brought in to solve a mystery of people getting and staying healthy was a bit curious on its own. 

They were all terminally ill. And in quarantine. Yet one nurse and her student “angels of death” had been able to reverse this deadly disease that modern “medicine’ had created through their own negligence.
Most of the big city hospitals had these outbreaks, and had sent their worst cases out to live their lives in suburban hospices – often unknown to those locals. And if their quarantine security failed, an incurable plague could spread and decimate the human population by at least half – to start with.
Whoever had hired me wanted to know what those healed people were going to do – for anyone could see a huge litigation potential from being cured. But not if they died. For dead people can’t talk – or sue.
At least to stay anonymous, my financiers had to stay off my radar and out of my hair.
Or the head nurse would help me find out how they created this mess that she was solving without their help…

Case of the Forever Cure: Fiction Writing – Cruze, Brower


It wasn’t any real surprise to me that these patients started getting better.

But my methods were unorthodox, and had been kept a secret for nearly half a century at this point. I was called in as a last resort by some very insistent, and very connected family of one of the patients.

And now he’s fine, but neither I or him or anyone else can talk to anyone outside.

Well, I’ve got this detective fellow named Johnson who somehow wangled a way into my over-booked schedule. 30 minutes a day. Uninterrupted. And that’s a miracle all on its own.

Typically, we are understaffed. And all volunteer. None of us were expected to ever return from the quarantine. But all their doctors and nurses had gotten ill as well, so they’d asked – no, begged for people to basically suicide in order to help these people live out their last days with some sort of dignity.

They got half the number they wanted, which was twice what they actually expected.

But they were city folks. Pretty cold and pessimistic. Hard to get a smile out of them.

And that was our secret weapon – infectious smiles. Works every time. Because you have to heal from the inside out, not just pile on more drugs and pills.

The main trouble was with the quarantine security equipment. The technicians to fix it were also sick. If it failed before we got this outbreak under control, it would roll through all the population of this suburb and those beyond it like no plague before it. And the infected would spread it further, all within a few hours of contacting it. All innocent carriers.

What was worst, it left babies alone. The ones that needed help the most. That was why we were here, originally. To solve why the babies weren’t getting sick – and feed them and change them and cuddle them meanwhile.

But when the last of the nurses collapsed, we had to break into the worst areas and sacrifice ourselves. Because the walls were all glass, and we could see the entire ward from the maternity section. Damned if we were just going to stand there and watch them all die…

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