Book Announcement: 'Bildung's Roamin' by Ross Barry Schwartz (paperback) available for purchase May 15, 2024 on amazon.com
In the vast landscape of literature, certain books transcend traditional genres, inviting readers on a journey that defies categorization. Today, we’re thrilled to introduce you to an exciting new release that seamlessly blends storytelling, poetry, philosophy and art.
Bildung’s Roamin’ – A Novella of Inquiry and Observation, authored by the talented Ross Barry Schwartz, promises to take readers…
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In a world where reality is in doubt, is doubt the only reality?
My new book, Lotus, will go on sale on 28 November but is already available for preview on Smashwords http://bit.ly/lotusswds and Amazon http://bit.ly/amlotus
Lotus eBook cover
Here is the refined blurb:
In a world where reality is in doubt, only doubt is real
Robert Lath dies in the trenches of World War One. But he wakes to find himself on a never-ending flight of stone steps. No matter how…
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im sorryyyy when bi people online act like bi women with boyfriends who go to pride are being like ostracized and shunned by the mean gays i’m like either you guys are going to different pride events than me or you’re secretly embarrassed of your straight boyfriends and projecting it onto other people… straight couples where both partners are straight literally bring their 4 year old kids to pride here no one caresssss
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The anachronistic feel within the House of Lamentation is neat and has so much potential to explore.
Leviathan has a multi-screen PC setup and virtual reality games that feel indistinguishable from reality. Beelzebub has to reheat food in a cauldron over a wood burning stove.
The lights in all the common rooms are either lamps or candles, including in the bathroom, but Asmodeus has a modern-looking crystal chandelier in his bathroom. The shared bathtub has a modern faucet but the kitchen sink is a hand pump.
Mammon has a surround sound stereo system and everybody can use the FabSnap app but they don't know what a slow cooker is.
Facilities in the Devildom as a whole can probably range from ancient to next generation futuristic. You never know if the building you're walking into will look like a historical museum exhibit or a contemporary upscale business.
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Half the jobs Fox is sent on are not within his jurisdiction. This certainly isn’t.
Planetary protection unit, they said. Military police. Orbital security force.
And now Fox is being pointed at Count Dooku on some backwater planet and told to fetch. How the mighty have fallen.
He’s pretty sure Kenobi, Skywalker and their units could’ve karked this all up perfectly fine on their lonesome; they don’t need three Guardsmen there to watch them do it. But the Chancellor says jump and Fox surpressed the urge to bash his head in with a durasteel chair. So it goes.
Which is when things start going terribly, terribly wrong, of course.
“Is that Spinder?!”, Skywalker exclaims, arms wheeling out in the air wildly to try and catch his balance. “The Count fucks?!”
Across the room, Cody rips his helmet off, several shades redder than a baseline human should be. “The Count fucks my brother?!”
Two lightsticks hover uselessly in the air, Skywalker’s zig-zagging in a relentless hum with his gesturing. Fox stands stock-still, in the hope that maybe he’ll spontaneously turn invisible if he does. Around them, 501st and 212th troopers gape through helmets. Behind him, Nuisance gasps for air amidst screaming laughter.
Ping, went Fox’s comm unit, in that unmistakeable lascivious jingle sound. Ping, answered Count Dooku’s within a split second. Match found close by.
For a moment, Fox considers what it would be like to run at the Count’s lightsaber at full speed.
…not like that.
“Count”, Kenobi says, with a face like he’s bitten into a rotten fruit. Not that Fox knows what fruit tastes like. “This is a highly… unexpected development.” He fwoosh-es his lightsaber shut, obviously having given up on fighting. “I’d call it a conflict of interest, but I’m not sure that applies?”
“Oh, it’s gonna be a conflict of something, for sure”, Cody hisses, fists clenched at his sides. He looks about ready to boil over, with Crys and Waxer inching closer in preparation. “What have you done to my brother, you monster?!”
“I don’t think you want to know that, Commander”, Nuisance gasps out between barks of laughter, proving why he’s eternally Fox’s least favourite. Cody’s splotchy red complexion slowly fades into ghostly white as a sheen of horror settles over the room. “Thanks for the fancy chocolate bouquet last week, Count!”
Dooku, who has been thus far staring at the floor with an empty thousand-klick stare, looks up at that. Fox has seldom seen a man that defeated outside of the mirror, he has to admit - but shudders when he remembers exactly what the chocolates were for.
Oh Force, he’s sexted Count Dooku into buying him gifts. Does that make him a Seppie spy? Traitor by proxy?
“I feel”, says the Count, gravely, still holding his long red laserknife in a white-knuckled death-grip, “that I have been taken for a fool.”
“Uh”, says Fox, nervously. All eyes snap to him. Oh Force, oh Force, oh Force. They’re going to invent a whole new kind of decommissioning for this and name it after Fox.
“Is it really scamming if you actually get what you pay for?”, asks Grids, considering. Fox slowly pulls off his helmet just for the comforting feeling of burying his head in his gloved palms. The sounds of a struggle ensue, and Kenobi makes a choked-off noise. Maybe if he’s embarrassed enough he’ll give himself an aneurysm.
“Grandmaster, why are you paying people for naked pictures of themselves on the holonet?!” Kenobi asks, despairingly. “Aren’t you a little old for that?”
“Oi, no one said I was naked!”, Fox exclaims, head whipping up.
“So naked”, Nuisance laughs, palm thumping against the floor. He might be crying.
“I’m not decrepit”, the Count blusters, and Skywalker makes a gagging noise. “I have - there are needs, and they are perfectly natural!” It takes three troopers to restrain Cody from launching himself at the Count.
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