Man from U.N.C.L.E. Section VII

I should apologize for using this community to promote a non-MFU agenda. But I'm not going to.
I would like to proudly announce the uploading of the 2nd edition of my novel to Kindle. It is available for $9.95, free for Kindle prime members and can be "borrowed" like a library book as well.
I am not apologetic, however, about promoting the incredible cover art by none other but our good friend Glenna, who has managed to capture the main character so well, I'm awed by her work. Posters of her artwork will be available when interest demands.

The premise of the novel:

    By all the means of measuring a man, David Kjell had more than a few reasons to feel good about himself. He was a college professor with a bright future; a beautiful wife adored him; at thirty, he was in the prime of health. He was intelligent, respected and admired.
    David Kjell was also living a lie. Like a time-bomb ready to explode, the flawless veneer of his perfect life was destined to shatter, exposing his existence for the desolation it was, casting him into a state of anguish and despair.
    How does one survive a world falling apart around them? Who is to blame for the hell that descends upon an undeserving individual?
  
Tempered in the Fire is the story of a man’s physical, emotional and spiritual journey to discover who he is, to realize his purpose and to find the courage to do what both demand of him.

So Much for the Groundhog

By WendieZ

Read More...
( Read more... )

There Are Holidays and Then There Are Holidays

By WendieZ

Manhattan, New York City: A blustery day in early February

"You know," Napoleon said, pulling his overcoat more snugly about his body in deference to the wind. "I've just about had it with winter. Seems like all of our assignments since December have been in the Northern Hemisphere."

His partner, Illya Kuryakin, blew a pale white cloud into the air. "Oh, I don't know. In Russia, we'd be calling this early spring."

"As I recall, out of the four seasons in Russia, three of them have the word 'winter' in them."

Illya smiled at his partner's grumbling, but secretly he agreed with Napoleon. Winter had been cold and dreary and he too was ready for the warmth of spring. He followed Solo down the concrete stairs leading to Del Floria's.

The tailor shop was warm and humid from the steam press, the contrast encouraging the two agents to hurry to the dressing room and the entrance to HQ. As always, a lovely receptionist greeted them with ID badges ready. The shapely brunette on duty this morning had been one of Solo's "regulars" for the past six months and as she pinned the badge on his lapel, the dark-haired agent found her provocative smile the very thing he needed to melt his midwinter blahs.

"Thank you, Brenda. You're like a breath of spring."

"Of course, Mr. Solo. Spring is just around the corner; it's Groundhog Day."

"That's right. How thoughtful of you to remind me," Napoleon grinned.

Kuryakin heaved a small sigh at the interplay, held out his hand to receive his yellow badge and followed Napoleon through the steel door leading into the HQ complex. As they currently had no assignment pending, and Waverly had not commanded their appearance in his office, the two agents took the opportunity to have breakfast in the commissary.

"Are you familiar with Groundhog Day, Illya?" Napoleon began as he laid his tray on a back table.

Kuryakin sat opposite. "Very much so. It's a quaint little ritual celebrated in the United States, Canada and much of Europe. In reality, the reaction of a rodent to sunlight or the lack thereof has little to with the return of warm weather."

"You know, you can really take the fun out of the whole idea of celebrating the end of winter."

"It's just an excuse for the greeting card manufacturers to sell more cards and the retailers to tempt people into their stores by holding a so-called special sale."

"I'll have you know, the quaint little ritual as you called it, is well-over a hundred years old, brought to America by German settlers who settled in Pennsylvania. Haven't you ever heard of 'Punxsutawney Phil', the official groundhog? It's a big event in Punxsutawney, PA, wherever that is."

"It happens to be in western Pennsylvania, northeast of Pittsburg. I had a mission there a number of years ago, before we were partners." Illya chuckled. "A couple of low-level THRUSH operatives had actually stolen the silly groundhog and were holding it for ransom. The whole town was in an uproar."

Napoleon looked at his partner with skepticism. "Come on. You're lying. I never heard of a mission like that."

"Look it up in the files if you don't believe me. I was relatively new to the United States and I couldn't believe how the theft of an ill-tempered, oversized rodent could cause such a stir. It was a good thing I was with an agent from Pittsburg because I probably would have been lynched for not taking the whole thing as seriously as the people up there thought I should."

Solo was still suspicious of his partner's story, but asked anyway, "Did you get the Groundhog back?"

"The THRUSH who stole it were actually quite happy to be rid of it. Punxsutawney Phil is a rather pampered animal and didn't take very kindly to being manhandled. That and the fact that he's much larger than the average groundhog, he turned out to be more than they could handle. He also had very sharp teeth which one of the THURSH discovered firsthand."

Napoleon shook his head at the grinning Russian. "I think you're putting me on."

Illya shrugged. "Suit yourself. I can give you the name of the Pittsburg agent who was with me on the case."

Solo sat back in his chair. "Well, I might just have Connie in Filing help me look up that Affair. What name did Coding put to it?"

"I never bothered to check."

"The Soviet Union doesn't have a Groundhog Day, I take it."

"Actually, there is a National holiday in March that we are very proud of."

"Isn't that Lenin's birthday or something?"

Illya stood up with his tray. "Lenin's birthday is in April. No, Napoleon. March eighth. It is the day we honor women; all women, but especially those who fought for women's rights. International Women's Day."

Napoleon stood up as well, smiling. "I'm all for honoring women."

"It's certainly more noble than honoring a groundhog in my opinion."

The pair carried their trays back to the counter and exited the commissary. "International Women's Day, huh? I might have to look into that, just as soon as I check out that fishy groundhog story of yours."

"You should. The event that spawned the holiday is from American history. Women came to New York to protest working conditions and inequitable pay. I try to attend every year if I am in a country where it is celebrated and I am able."

Solo looked pensive. "It does seem to fit in with the goals of UNCLE, doesn't it?"

"Indeed."

"Well, I think perhaps, if you're willing that is, I should accompany you to this event, wherever we may be."

"I think the women would be happy to see you."

Napoleon grinned. "Well, that is the idea, isn't it?"