Posted in Books, Life Around Here, Uncategorized, tagged authors, Books, Christians, ethics, human dignity, language, pro-life, society on April 1, 2011|
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The following is a chapter from my book Not Exactly Innocent. It’s a chapter where I detour a bit to have some fun with regional language, and with men sitting around giving each other a hard time – but it’s also one in which I toss some pro-life activism into the mix. I am pro-life, pro-marriage, and pro-family, and I hope that comes out in all my books. But in Not Exactly Innocent, much of the book revolves around bioethics, from the questions of the proper boundaries of scientific research, to the dangers of being disabled in a world awash in euthanasia advocates. The book is now available on Kindle. I’m aiming to have a trade paperback edition available soon, after we get some design details worked out.
This is the second book in the MI5 1/2 series, but I wrote it so it should be fine as a stand-alone book. It is crawling with spoilers for Not Exactly Dead, though, just so you know. The third book in the series is Not Exactly Allies.
25 – The Coffee Break
Leandre Durand and Henry Rochester rendezvoused at a coffee shop downtown, if you could call it a coffee shop, to swap notes. You could get coffee there, certainly, and pastries, not to mention cholesterol-drenched sandwiches, but it somehow didn’t seem to rise to the title of coffee shop. By some odd chemistry, it drew almost all men. Being temporary-bachelors-by-assignment, they found it surprisingly comfortable. And since the locals called it a coffee shop, they called it that, too, somewhat against their better judgment.
They didn’t have many notes to swap, unfortunately. Durand’s uncle was not turning up as hoped. Other leads were not panning out. New leads were not coming in at an encouraging rate. The FBI’s Harold MacAvoy still wished that they would go home, and was probably petitioning various governments to that effect. All in all, they’d had better investigations.
But they’d been at the game a long time and had long since learned to relax and stay hopeful. So they ordered coffee plus a cinnamon roll, nearly plate-sized, to split between them, and settled in for some mental gymnastics to keep their minds sharp. Sometimes a little bantering jarred something loose. And if it didn’t, it left a man feeling up to the task ahead of him. That was the theory, anyway. (Or the most believable excuse. (more…)
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