Tag: feminism

The Christmas Murder (Hilda Mystery Series) by Mike Nevin. Book cover with Father Christmas (aka Santa Claus) on cover of book, winking mysteriously at reader.
Brief Humor & Check-Ins

Book Review: Christmas Murder: Book 7 (Hilda Mystery Series) (Free on Kindle Unlimited)

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork

Please see my review for Mr. Nevin’s (HowCaring.com) next installment in his wonderful series, starring none other than Hilda. I’ve come to love Hilda and her best friend Pearl, who often accompanies Hilda (mostly unwillingly) in cleverly solving bizarre mysteries alongside hilarious adventures. They’ve become dear friends of mine and I’m sure you’d enjoy getting to know them too. Enjoy.
***

My review: 5/5 stars
Amazon Link: Purchase a copy here (also free on Kindle Unlimited)

Thoroughly enjoyed this next installment in the Hilda Murder Mysteries by Mike Nevin. As an American reader, it was fun to go back in time to post-WWII England and get to walk the foggy alleyway of the crime and see what Hilda, Pearl and Arthur were up to all those years ago. Found myself smiling at the cleverly arranged, subtle humor that’s sprinkled throughout the story, feminism smiling knowingly from behind the narrative while poking fun at some of the bumbling characters, and of course Hilda’s wonderful dancing. After all, what’s a murder mystery without some dancing to clear one’s mind to think? Get yourself a cup of hot cocoa and snuggle up. Cheers.

P.S.– And don’t worry–the real Father Christmas isn’t the one murdered in this book, as Hilda reassuringly reminds us throughout the story. The real Santa Claus is alive and well up at the North Pole.

The Christmas Murder (Hilda Mystery Series) by Mike Nevin. Book cover with Father Christmas (aka Santa Claus) on cover of book, winking mysteriously at reader.

Short Stories & Poetry

A Very Short Story: Millennial Worker Bee

Peregrine Arc: An Author's Scratchwork

There once was a Millennial girl. She worked real hard, got good grades, and went out into the world. Every deadline, every good deed she sought–done.

That is, until the Waylayers came.

They came, armed and ready with their excuses, surrounding her at every turn: “I need more time!” and “I didn’t know I needed do that!” hung from their every orifice, the words bitter and broken, trailing over their lips.

Deadlines passed, expectations rose, foolishness ensued. And still, the little Millennial girl–branded by these Waylayers and naysayers as part of a lazy, decrepit generation–continued to see them disrupt, hem and haw, and delay progress. Fires broke out; chaos ensued. And still the little Millennial girl turned in her work on time, working dutifully at her desk, surrounded by the fires of Waylayers who burned it all to the ground. All efforts, ash, dust and must.

Until one day, the little Millennial girl stood up from her desk and leaned to crack her back. She took up her keyboard, broke it in two over her knee, and calmly picked up her purse and notebooks after tightening the bow around her ponytail. She said:

“That’s enough of this crap; I’m off to be a writer.”

And that was all she wrote.