Podcasts about Atwood

I denne episoden av Den Hemmelige Hyllen gir bibliotekansatte Lene, Hanne og Joanna sine beste tips for bøker som lånes altfor lite. Først snakker Lene om «Rapportar frå havet: loggdikt » av Hildegunn Dale - et dikt som til og med diktskeptikere kan like. Deretter forteller Hanne om «Alias Grace» av Margaret Atwood. Og vi avslutter med mørke og orginale «Jernlungen» av Kirstine Reffstrup.

When did freedom become something we assumed, instead of something we protected? In this searing episode of Sarah’s Thoughts, Sarah Grynberg unpacks the haunting truth behind The Handmaid’s Tale, a story that feels more like memory than fiction, and more like warning than entertainment. You’ll learn: *Why The Handmaid’s Tale isn’t about the future, but a mirror of the past and the present. *How real-world events have already played out the darkest chapters of Atwood’s novel. *The silent ways control creeps in. *What it means to move from fear to fire, from silence to strength. This episode isn’t about fear. It’s about awakening. It’s about seeing clearly the places where power is abused, where voices are silenced, where women are still being told to stay small, stay soft, stay silent. And it’s about saying: no more. Listen now. Then ask yourself the only question that really matters:Where in your life are you still waiting to be free? Purchase Sarah's book: Living A Life Of Greatness here. To purchase Living A Life of Greatness outside Australia here or here. Watch A Life of Greatness Episodes On Youtube here. Sign up for Sarah’s newsletter (Greatness Guide) here. Purchase Sarah's Meditations here. Instagram: @sarahgrynberg Website: https://sarahgrynberg.com/ Facebook: facebook.com/sarahgrynberg Twitter: twitter.com/sarahgrynbergSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

In a Sabado Sessions crossover, Jurins Kengamu, 6 Pack Lapadat, Taylor Atwood, Joey B, and Ade Omisakin discuss the 83s!Hosted by Jurins Kengamu 

A good rule of thumb is that whatever Margaret Atwood is worried about now, the rest of us will likely be worried about a decade from now. The rise of authoritarianism. A backlash against women's social progress. Climate change leading to social unrest. Advertising permeating more and more of our lives.We originally released this episode back in March 2022. But just like Atwood's work, it somehow only got more relevant with time. Atwood is the author of at least 17 novels, including the classic “The Handmaid's Tale,” as well as 20 books of poetry and nine collections of short fiction. When we spoke, she'd just published an essay collection, “Burning Questions.” And she has a new book coming out this fall, “Book of Lives: A Memoir of Sorts.”Mentioned:Art & Energy by Barry LordBook recommendations:War by Margaret MacMillanBiased by Jennifer L. EberhardtSecrets of the Sprakkar by Eliza ReidCharlotte's Web by E. B. WhiteLord of the Rings by J. R. R. TolkienThoughts? Guest suggestions? Email us at ezrakleinshow@nytimes.com. You can find the transcript and more episodes of “The Ezra Klein Show” at nytimes.com/ezra-klein-podcast. Book recommendations from all our guests are listed at https://www.nytimes.com/article/ezra-klein-show-book-recs.htmlThis episode of “The Ezra Klein Show” was produced by Annie Galvin, Jeff Geld and Rogé Karma. Fact-checking by Michelle Harris, Kate Sinclair and Mary Marge Locker. Special thanks to Kristina Samulewski, Coral Ann Howells and Brooks Bouson. Our executive producer is Claire Gordon. The show's production team also includes Marie Cascione, Rollin Hu, Elias Isquith, Marina King, Jan Kobal, Kristin Lin, Jack McCordick and Aman Sahota. Original music by Pat McCusker. Audience strategy by Kristina Samulewski and Shannon Busta. The director of New York Times Opinion Audio is Annie-Rose Strasser. Unlock full access to New York Times podcasts and explore everything from politics to pop culture. Subscribe today at nytimes.com/podcasts or on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.

Level 5 Donuts has taken the isthmus by storm. After getting started selling their vegan sweets at festivals and coffee shops around town, Level 5 is now leveling up its business with a brick-and-mortar store. We sat down with Caitlin Rockey, the co-owner and head baker at Level 5 to learn more about how their Atwood store came to be and what it's like to lead a donut cult. Join us every Thursday as we explore Madison's food culture, from the brewers and bakers to the chefs and cheesemakers. Wanna talk to us about an episode? Leave us a voicemail at 608-318-3367 or email madison@citycast.fm. We're also on Instagram!  Want more Madison news delivered right to your inbox? Subscribe to the Madison Minutes morning newsletter. 

This week we find out Sam's thoughts on Soccer Aid, the boys' plans for Liv Atwood's Birthday and Pete gets Sam ready for his next panel show... what could possibly go wrong!Listen by clicking 'Play' on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever it is you're listening now.Make sure to subscribe, follow, rate and review. Find us on Instagram, TikTok and Youtube - @stayingrelevantpodcastTo get in touch with the podcast, please email hello@srproductions.co.uk (great e-mail, we know)PO BOX:SR ProductionsPO Box 81681LondonSW6 9SW Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

This week on Late To The Party it's a dream link up with Olivia Attwood Dack. After originally meeting on a night out, Grace and Olivia bond over a love of martinis, crusty exes and feral behaviour.Brand new episodes released every Tuesday! Don't forget to follow, subscribe and rate the pod

In this compelling return to The Omni Show, Jason Atwood—now CEO of Arku...

Community DC Host Dennis Glasgow speaks with Ginny Atwood – co-founder of The Chris Atwood Foundation - a nonprofit in Northern Virginia dedicated to saving lives from opioid overdose and supporting recovery from addiction. And they have a really big event coming up called Hope Fest 2025 

John Ruskin (1819-1900) was a powerhouse of a man: writer, lecturer, critic, social reformer - and much else besides. From his five-volume work Modern Painters through his late writings about literature in Fiction, Fair and Foul, he brought to his subjects an energy and integrity that few critical thinkers have matched. His wide-ranging influence reached everyone from Tolstoy, who called him "one of the most remarkable men not only of England of our generation, but of all countries and times," to Gandhi, who wrote of the "magic spell" that Ruskin's works brought about. In this episode, Jacke talks to Sara Atwood (Ruskin's Educational Ideals) about the man whom Proust called "for me one of the greatest writers of all times and of all countries." PLUS Collin Jennings (Enlightenment Links: Theories of Mind and Media in Eighteenth-Century Britain) stops by to discuss his choice for the last book he will ever read. Additional listening: 649 Mind and Media in the Enlightenment (with Colin Jennings) 147 Leo Tolstoy 7A Proust, Pound, and Chinese Poetry The music in this episode is by Gabriel Ruiz-Bernal. Learn more at gabrielruizbernal.com. Help support the show at patreon.com/literature or historyofliterature.com/donate. The History of Literature Podcast is a member of Lit Hub Radio and the Podglomerate Network. Learn more at thepodglomerate.com/historyofliterature. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Fresh off his battle with Joe Borenstein, Taylor Atwood joins KOTL to discuss his experience at USA Nationals, the comeback, his side of the story, his future goals, and much more!Hosted by 6 Pack Lapadat

A big smile on a big fish having fun, what better for bedtime than another Quiet Journey with Professor Atwood.Check out the original episode here!! https://pod.link/1526404626/episode/69c1522e9d5722232dfb9f06e1670a4fStart a 7 day FREE trial of Sleep With Me Plus- The ultimate way to listen to show, based on how YOU listen! Get your Sleep With Me SleepPhones. Use "sleepwithme" for $5 off!!Learn more about producer Russell aka Rusty Biscuit at russellsperberg.com and @BabyTeethLA on IG.Show Artwork by Emily TatGoing through a hard time? You can find support at the Crisis Textline and see more global helplines here.HELIX SLEEP - Take the 2-minute sleep quiz and they'll match you to a customized mattress that'll give you the best sleep of your life. Visit helixsleep.com/sleep and get a special deal exclusive for SWM listeners!ZOCDOC - With Zocdoc, you can search for local doctors who take your insurance, read verified patient reviews and book an appointment, in-person or video chat. Download the Zocdoc app to sign-up for FREE at zocdoc.com/sleep PROGRESSIVE - With the Name Your Price tool, you tell Progressive how much you want to pay for car insurance, and they'll show you coverage options that fit your budget. Get your quote today at progressive.comACORNS - Acorns makes it easy to start automatically saving and investing so your money has a chance to grow for you, your kids, and your retirement. Acorns will recommend a diversified portfolio that fits you and your money goals, and you can get started with even just your spare change! Head to acorns.com/sleep to learn more. (Paid non-client endorsement. Compensation provides incentive to positively promote Acorns. Tier 1 compensation provided.Investing involves risk. Acorns Advisers, LLC, an SEC-registered investment adviser. View important disclosures at acorns.com/sleep)MARLEY SPOON - With their 15-Minute Express Recipes and Ready to Heat Meals, Marley Spoon takes the guesswork out of dinner with delicious meals that you can make quickly. Head to MarleySpoon.com/offer/sleep and use code SLEEP for up to 26 free meals! Learn about your ad choices: dovetail.prx.org/ad-choices

Jacob Shymanski and Red Szell unravel their impressions of what it means to experience a short story in all its intended brilliance. From gothic tales by Poe, to 20th-century icons like Fitzgerald and contemporary voices like Munro and Atwood, they explore the gamut of authors who've left lasting impact in this genre, sometimes with prose that take only twenty minutes of our time.Short stories mentioned in this episode are:The Mezzotint by MR James from ‘Collected Ghost Stories of MR James'Whoever Was Using this Bed by Raymond Carver, from ‘From Where I'm Calling From'The lesser Evil by Andre SapkowskiThe metamorphosis by Franz Kafka  The Lottery by Shirley Jackson AMI Audiobook Review is broadcast on AMI-audio in Canada and publishes three new podcast episodes a week on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.Follow AMI Audiobook Review on YouTube & Instagram!We want your feedback!Be that comments, suggestions, hot-takes, audiobook recommendations or reviews of your own… hit us up! Our email address is: audiobookreview@ami.caAbout AMIAMI is a media company that entertains, informs and empowers Canadians with disabilities through three broadcast services — AMI-tv and AMI-audio in English and AMI-télé in French — and streaming platform AMI+. Our vision is to establish AMI as a leader in the offering of accessible content, providing a voice for Canadians with disabilities through authentic storytelling, representation and positive portrayal. To learn more visit AMI.ca and AMItele.ca.Find more great AMI Original Content on AMI+Learn more at AMI.caConnect with Accessible Media Inc. online:X /Twitter @AccessibleMediaInstagram @AccessibleMediaInc / @AMI-audioFacebook at @AccessibleMediaIncTikTok @AccessibleMediaInc

Hey there, friendship buddies! This week, my guest is the fantastic, Bex Atwood. Bex is a wildly talented photographer, and a true kindred spirit. Bex has a long history of experiences, and interests in all things strange and unusual. We get into wonders of celebrating your local folklore, bigfoot, ABCs (alien black cats), mole enchiladas and a ton more, of course. Bex's photography is gothic, rural and high strange as all get out. She's really one of my favorite photographers out there these days. Please do yourself a favor, and check out Bex's wonderful work in the links below. Enjoy!!Love, Steve For Bex Atwood:https://www.patreon.com/bexintheliminal?fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAaZxVtpgcmH6-ablxvgE-BWYDpJLztrJt7hLKR3pojYCW2lWX3LnUzw_NEk_aem_aASnIBAtSPcN5LqPCphv7whttps://www.instagram.com/bexintheliminal/Steve Berg LInks:https://www.patreon.com/HiStrangenesslinktr.ee/stevebergPretty please subscribe and leave a review!

Look for the show notes at AnokaCountyHistory.org

Join the conversation by letting us know what you think about the episode!Welcome to the 2nd installment of our Banned Books Series! This month's book is Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake, a 2003 novel that Atwood described as speculative fiction rather than pure science fiction because it doesn't deal with things we can't yet do but goes beyond the amount of realism she associates with novels. Oryx and Crake is one of the most-banned books by school officials in the U.S. due to its adult themes and occasional pornographic material. Tune in to our discussion and read the book for yourself - Oryx and Crake, in our opinion, is a very well-crafted story that is incredibly thought provoking. Support the showBe part of the conversation by sharing your thoughts about this episode, what you may have learned, how the conversation affected you. You can reach Raquel and Jennifer on IG @madnesscafepodcast or by email at madnesscafepodcast@gmail.com.Share the episode with a friend and have your own conversation. And don't forget to rate and review the show wherever you listen!Thanks!

Two heavyweights of Canadian culture, acclaimed soprano Measha Brueggergosman-Lee and literary giant Margaret Atwood, have come together for an exciting new collaboration. On her new album, “Zombie Blizzard,” Measha sings musical interpretations of seven Atwood poems. She joins Tom Power to talk about the project and what she thinks it might be able to tell you about the future.

This week we are joined by the wonderful, Liv Atwood!Liv and Pete discuss the highs and lows of Liv's career, her worst moment in the industry and Liv probes Pete on a few HIGHLY REQUESTED listener questions... Listen by clicking 'Play' on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever it is you're listening now.Make sure to subscribe, follow, rate and review. Find us on Instagram, TikTok and Youtube - @stayingrelevantpodcastTo get in touch with the podcast, please email hello@srproductions.co.uk (great e-mail, we know)PO BOX:SR ProductionsPO Box 81681LondonSW6 9SW Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Join Kelly in an engaging conversation with renowned author Margaret Atwood, known for works like "The Handmaid's Tale" and her impressive bibliography of 60 books. In this wide-ranging Medium interview from a few years back, Atwood shares her insights on societal changes over the past century, the evolution of publishing, women's roles and marriage, environmental concerns, and cultural fragmentation. A lightning round of personal questions shows Atwood's playful side. This is a conversation that, for obvious reasons, feels very timely. To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Listen to Trevor Atwood Sermons: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/city-church-murfreesboro/id460933111 nobigdyl. link in bio: https://ffm.bio/nobigdyllielisten to nobigdyl. on all streaming platforms

Bobby interviews Nick Atwood, a trial lawyer with Ritchie Rock & Atwood in Shawnee, Oklahoma. Bobby and Nick discuss the procedural process for ED cases in Oklahoma, a protracted and unique six-year case that Nick recently tried against the Oklahoma Turnpike Authority, attorneys' fees issues under OK law, and how to work with clients. Throughout, Bobby asks Nick detailed discovery, procedure, and trial strategy questions, including how to prepare clients for taking the stand, how to handle a landowner client whose valuation is higher than the appraiser, and negotiating with opposing counsel even when those efforts fail.  The cross exam includes a personal view into Nick's first car and life in outer space.  Links: https://www.rrmalaw.com/team/nick-atwood

Da Margaret Atwood begynte på mesterverket The Handmaid's Tale (Tjenerinnens beretning) i 1984, var hun på et skriveopphold i Vest-Tyskland, bare et steinkast fra muren mot Øst-Berlin, med sitt allestedsnærværende hemmelige politi. Verdenen på den andre siden av jernteppet var en klar inspirasjon for den verdenskjente framtidsdystopien hennes, der hun lagde seg en regel om å ikke legge til noe i Gileads univers som ikke allerede har skjedd på et tidspunkt i vår historie.På den andre siden av muren, i DDR, vokste Jenny Erpenbeck opp, og var vitne til både republikkens storhetstid og dens fall og det kapitalistiske Vestens seier bare få år senere. I sitt prisvinnende forfatterskap har Erpenbeck utforsket Tysklands og det øvrige Europas komplekse historie, der vanlige mennesker blir fanget av sin tids grandiose ideer og omveltninger.Både Atwood og Erpenbeck har befattet seg litterært med totalitarisme, med historien og hvordan den former nåtiden og framtiden, med den skjøre virkeligheten vi lever i, og hvor lett den kan vippe over i brutalitet. De skriver begge lyrisk og nyskapende skjønnlitteratur, og tar i bruk mytologi, annen litteratur og filosofi, men forbindelsene til verden rundt oss - enten det er fortiden, nåtiden eller mulige framtider vi er på vei mot - er aldri langt unna.Margaret Atwood står bak mer enn 70 utgivelser av romaner, poesi, noveller, barnebøker og essaysamlinger. Fortellinger som The Handmaid's Tale og MaddAddam-trilogien har gjort henne kjent verden over, og en rekke av bøkene hennes har blitt adaptert til film, TV, opera og ballett. I likhet med Erpenbeck trekkes hun ofte fram som en av de store favorittene til å vinne Nobelprisen i litteratur.Jenny Erpenbeck er forfatter av en lang rekke kritikerroste og prisbelønte romaner, novellesamlinger, skuespill og essays. Hennes seneste roman, Kairos, vant tidligere i år den gjeve internasjonale Booker-prisen.Denne podkasten er fra da disse to fabelaktige forfatterne møttes på en scene for første gang, til en samtale om historie og samfunn, erindring og framtidshåp. Samtalen ble ledet av Helge Jordheim, professor i kulturhistorie ved Universitetet i Oslo.Arrangementet foregikk i Universitetets Aula 2. November 2024. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Of Funerals and Families; Part One In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “Victory is neither pointless, fleeting, nor soon forgotten. It is yours.” I have been warned that my Uncle wants me dead. My Aunts want me for; other things." "What do they want?" E asked. It was the whole 'men as a true asset' problem for her. "The whole repository of nefariousness;” Pamela started to explain, but then, "Double Word Score!" Pamela and I exclaimed excitedly then 'high-fived'. Yes, you spiteful Cosmos, I had found my soul-mate and she was a near-octogenarian with a macabre sense of humor; who also had a telepathic ability to know my mind. E looked totally lost in the exchange. "Yes; the whole repository of nefariousness was created to be sterile," Pamela picked up the conversation. "Which makes the very existence of Cáel here very noteworthy; virtually inexplicable," she mused. "What have the labs at Havenstone think of this?" Rachel worried. "I refused to go back in for any more tests," I met her gaze. "But it could be important," E joined in. "I will make it easy on you both; I'm a horrible person. I'm the Head of House Ishara and I elect to not put my fate in the hands of the same people who leaked my very existence to the Illuminati during the first set of tests," I stated. "Which is why I'm here in Chicago burying my Father, in case any of you missed it." "Certainly knowing what is going on is more important than the risk of further exposure," E persisted. She got kudos for sticking to her guns. "Esmeralda, I work for Katrina Love, Head of Executive Services," I responded. "By that I mean I have this nifty little glass table in a corner of her office. Me stressing over my genetics isn't really important. Katrina is on the case and I haven't been out of college for two months yet. If the difference between Havenstone getting in a fight with the Illuminati and keeping the truce is my blood sample, she'll let me know," I added. "As far as Ishara is concerned, Havenstone had an information leak that got a house member killed." "Do you have other family?" E inquired hesitantly. "Blood kin? Not in this country and certainly not anyone I could name," I sighed. "I case you are wondering, there are a grand total of three members on Ishara's roster." "Is the rest of your family safe?" E was trying to sound upbeat. "Safe? Of course they are not safe. They both work for Executive Services, Esmeralda. They were 'Runners' who I inducted into Ishara. They are Amazons of the Host and that means never being safe this side of the cliffs. Friday morning I presented them to our ancestors and they were welcomed as equals; as sisters to those who have the blood of Mycenaeans on their hands," I turned to look out the window. "What was it like?" Tiger Lily inquired. "The induction." "If you are looking for a vision of a stone hall with thousands of war-like Amazons holding me in judgment, you'll be disappointed," I recalled. "I had to create the ceremony from scratch; ash, tears and blood. "I felt strong enough about that instinct I let Desiree slap me until I cried enough tears. With Desiree's knife, I cut myself, they cut themselves and our blood mixed," I finished. "That is not how it is done," Rachel corrected me. "No," I stopped. "It is not how you do it. House Ishara has come back from the void that waits for all those who are dead and have no one living to recall them," I explained. "We are not the other Houses. We are both Love and Oaths and there is a lack of respect for each of those virtues in this World." "I never considered Amazons as overly romantic, but we are true to our oaths," Esmeralda was starting to bask in the openness of the exchange. "I do not doubt the integrity of anyone in this vehicle, except for me," I gave her a weary grin. "The failure of oaths is mine. Ishara was bound by an Oath and has failed in her pledge. You are wrong about the romance and I am sure you have misunderstood my definition. I live for the day when no sons are sent to the cliffs as newborns; Love, Esmeralda. Love." The hush pressed upon us until Tiger Lily pulled up in front of the Hotel Burnham. Rachel, E, Charlotte (from the second GL) and I went in. I wave the others back as I went to the desk. Rachel and Charlotte had grey duffel bags with 'stuff' inside. E had my minimal kit. "Cáel Nyilas with Havenstone," I introduced myself. Yes, I was in 'prison' gear. "Director Nyilas; welcome to the Burnham," he recovered quickly. "Which rooms do you wish to use?" Thank you, Helena, no I'm a damn Director. He twisted the screen so I could see the list. Eleven doubles and a Lakeview Executive Suite with two adjoining Deluxe Suites. "We'll use those," I indicated the Executive/Deluxe/Deluxe. "Very good, Sir," he nodded. "Will you be ordering room service? I'm afraid the Atwood restaurant has closed for the evening." "Sounds like a plan," I looked at his name tag, "Steve, or do you prefer Mr. McCabe?" "Steve will do fine, Director;” Steve started. "I will make it easy on you Steve," I sighed. "Call me Cáel. All this Director crap is for the benefit of people I barely know. I am here, in my hometown, to bury my Father; who was murdered yesterday." Steve paled. "The FBI gave me these spiffy duds. If any law enforcement shows up asking for me, give me a ring first." "Nyilas; from Burnham? I read about that," Steve seemed bemused. "The day shift Assistant Manager is from Burnham too." How wonderful, I thought sarcastically. Steven sensed my waning interest. "Your keycards, Sir; Cáel and my sympathy for your loss." "Steve, never miss a chance to tell your loved ones how you feel," I took the cards. "That is my biggest regret with my Dad. I didn't think about it the last time we talked." Steve gave a final nod. I rejoined my group and headed for the elevator. The rest was a tired blur. The rest of the group showed up, including Pamela. I called Nicole to tell her the situation then called Timothy despite the late hour to make sure he was okay. Timothy informed me that two 'psycho-chicks' stopped by as a kind of 'meet and greet'. I hit the small hotel fitness center with Mona, the fourth member of Rachel's team. It helped. What helped more was the constant reminder that I worked with smart people. Mona's mother was dead as well, killed on an undisclosed mission with the SD when she was ten. She could understand my sense of grief and confusion. We didn't cry and hug. It wasn't something she could do with a man. Give a decade, or two and she might come around. Instead, "Thank you for Constanza," Mona said quietly to me as we exited the center. "I measure a person's life in the lives we save; as well as the ones we take," I enlightened her. Before that moment, I didn't really consider killing people to be all that praiseworthy an endeavor. Today I had been in a situation where my life had been in immediate danger. I was glad the other guy ended up dead. Since I was prepared to keep acting stupidly, I was grateful for those who would murder people so that I could remain both noble of purpose and alive. "She is close to me; she helped me grow up after Mom was gone," Mona opened up a tiny bit. "Aren't you a bit angry with me?" I asked. "Initially, I was very angry. Then I heard your words and I knew you spoke the truth of the matter," Mona exhaled. "She should have died. She deserved death for what she said." "No one;” I started to comfort Mona. "For a member of a Faith that exults in the harshness of martial conflict, you spend an inordinate amount of energy struggling to keep people alive," Mona noted. "I'm glad I helped deal with those Latin Kings now. It was a mission worth doing." "What?" I stumbled. "Didn't Buffy tell you?" Mona regarded me. She smirked. "Yeah, we hunted them down late Sunday night and into early Monday morning. I doubt the few who escaped will ever be back." "Why haven't I; anybody heard about this?" I worried. Mona looked at me somewhat perplexed. "Cáel of Ishara, we always take the bodies of murder victims, cut them up, place them in large drums of acid and ship them to Canada," Mona informed me. "Ah; thanks for telling me that. Let's both agree to not let Buffy know that I know, okay?" I requested. "She'll get an inordinate thrill thinking she knows something I don't." "As you wish, Cáel of Ishara," Mona nodded gravely.  (Tuesday Morning) Sexual addiction is somewhat like military service. It requires you to be alert to your surroundings, think on your feet, follow procedures and; most crucial to me; shows you how to remain functional with minimal sleep. In this case, five hours sufficed to clear out my cobwebs and make me incredibly horny. All of that was despite the layers of upsetting news being placed before me. Executive Services had gone over the feed from the four SD members. Inadvertently, Dad had fought on the 'right' side. The team leader died first. Her back-up put two men in the grave and wounded a third before they tossed a grenade on her. I looked at Charlotte as she gave me the news. We both had a 'what the' expression on our faces. Grenade? I kept doing my calisthenics. The second two-Amazon group killed three attackers on their side of the building then charged the back door. I wondered if Mom's Garden Dragon was okay. It was like a Garden Gnome, except it was a Dragon. Mom was odd that way. The attacking group had blown the front door and entered the first floor. The Amazons in the back decided to shoot out the lock instead. While transiting the kitchen moving forward, the second group took fire; from a Zastava M 21. I was confused. "It is a modern Serbian weapon," Charlotte filled in the blanks. "Dad was killed by Serbians?" I muttered. "No," Charlotte sighed. "No he wasn't." Another look from me as I started my standing push-ups. "That team member was wounded. The shooter was taken down by both of our teammates. At this point, three other attackers moved from your front room to the dining room, pinning our team down. That was when your father broke cover and assaulted the attackers. He had this large lamp and cracked it over the right shoulder of the closest man," Charlotte stated. I knew that light fixture Charlotte was talking about. It was a floor lamp, nearly two meters tall, made of glass and bronze. My physique was from my Father; broad shoulders and powerful arms. That 'large lamp' weighed over 30 kg and, powered by my father's upper body strength, I was betting the guy who was on the receiving end had have some of his bones snapped. "The man screamed in Bulgarian, his two companions turned to see what was happening and the Amazons advanced by fire toward your father," Charlotte continued. "Your father swung again," she looked at me, "connecting with the man's chest. In response, the other two shot him three times. He fell. The second team pressed forward, killing the man your Father wounded and wounding another. The last unhurt Amazon was killed trying to get to your Father while the survivor was concussed by the use of a second grenade. We don't have the video of what happened in the interim. When the last Amazon began moving again, the two remaining attackers had dragged your father out the front door. She pursued and fired. She wounded the undamaged attacker; and one of her bullets ended your Father's life. She was wounded in this last exchange of fire. The two men helped each other to a vehicle and left." I kept working out as I made an acceptable collage of my misery. "Does she know?" I whispered. "Does she; the Amazon? Her name is Sabina. I don't think she's been informed yet," Charlotte answered. "Unless it becomes necessary, don't tell her that her bullet killed my Father," I sighed. "The only thing that is important to me; to Ishara; is that she gave her all as did her sisters. My Father was killed by the men who first shot him. Had they escaped with my Father, they weren't taking him to a hospital, so he was as good as dead anyway. That is all that matters." "Yes Ishara," Charlotte responded with quiet reverence. Knowing nothing of Security Detail's procedure and tradition, I had tossed out an excuse to spare a valiant woman a terrible piece of news. Charlotte's demeanor suggested to me that it would be a kindness conveyed. A few minutes later, Rachel and Tiger Lily came in from their suite. Mona had been my guardian while I slept so she slept now. This was our signal to shower and put on some clothes before the group went downstairs for breakfast. Pamela presented herself as I was getting dressed. Esmeralda's arrival signaled our migration to the ground floor Atwood restaurant. As everyone glided into the elevator, I had a nostalgic moment for Odette. A normal, non-lethal, happy young lady. This all-encompassing seriousness around me was crimping my efforts to find the silver lining in this personal calamity. Ten seconds after exiting the elevator, Nicole angled toward us then we proceeded to breakfast. It took a little jockeying and refereeing by me to get the seating arrangements set. Nicole was on my left then Pamela. Rachel and E were on my right. Charlotte and Tiger Lily were across from me as orders were taken. "How are you holding up, Cáel?" Nicole put a hand on my lap. I had no immediate reply. "Lonely. Sad. Alone. Bereft of anger; it is pointless. I want to scream, rage, tear things up, throw things across the room and hear them shatter; but not really," I confessed. Suddenly, a strange essence infused my core. "No, that's wrong. I am not alone. We have suffered more, lived through worse and never wavered even in the face of death," I said in a ghostly whisper. That was really the last thing I wanted to say. Its origin was from an enigmatic corner of my mind I was resisting venturing into. 'Taking oneself to the cliffs' made a whole lot more sense suddenly. The Amazon prepared her daughters and granddaughters for her absence. She volunteered to make that trek. In her heart, she called out to her Ancestors to prepare them to accompany her on that final journey. That all sounded like comfortable spiritual mumbo-jumbo, safely quoted by a rational man under duress. The abyssal rift in that psycho-babble, makeshift patch over my emotional pain was I felt Vranus and Ishara standing at my shoulders. Vranus because his seemingly endless quest was finally resolved and he and his descendants would at last be welcomed into the halls of their kin. With me, he had succeeded and brought his people home. There was still the matter of the rest; the three sons of Arinniti and the elder warrior. Holy Crap; they were still out there, waiting to be shown the path home. My 'Evenly Holier Crap' moment was feeling the weight of the eyes of Ishara upon me. Not Ishara, the matron goddess of this; my House, but that ancient Amazon who had surrendered her personal name to oblivion to give her followers a sense of unity. No female was solely 'her' daughter; all the women of the house were equal in birth and station. It was that Ishara who stood at my shoulder and, beyond some perverse desire to look behind me to see how sexy she was, I felt I had her; not approval; her mandate. We had to be held to our oaths and would die to a woman (and man) for them. We were to give the Host a second chance to make things right. There would be no retreat. It was not in the Amazon psyche to fight the relentless, remorseless and bloody battle; to risk everything on victory with no thought of failure. It was not something guys were accustomed to, but had been the doom of men down through the ages. Whether too romantic, too stubborn, or too bound to our brother's in arms, men had embraced hopeless causes before; mostly perishing without fanfare yet with the exceptional impossible victory to give us hope. From time immemorial, male kin of the flesh and spirit had piled their corpses one upon the other, refusing the verdict of combat for the sake of brotherhood and every imaginable ideal. It was hardly a trait worth sharing with the sisters. They would understand the pieces; not the result. My lack of political ability would not be disability. I simply had to learn to fight; a lot better than I did at that moment. The echoes of this message inside my head, the chilled air that filled my lungs and balance restored to my heart was bizarrely unfrightening. It would be an affirmation of the 'first directive' oaths all the houses had sworn. It wasn't my place to raise all the 'Runners', or even a single one. It was my duty to initiate the 'Worthy', no matter their number. My actions were mine. I would not shame the other houses. I would not consider their prestige at all. It was not my place in the same way it was not their place to tell me what I could and couldn't do. It was a divine 'Go get 'em' and it felt pretty, freaking awesome. "Cáel, are you okay?" Nicole asked in a worried tone. She squeezed my thigh. I looked down at my hands. I was okay. "Nicole, I have the blood of Ahhiyawa champions on my hands. I feel it's sticky, sickening ichor and smell the copper-laden, metallic odor," I smiled. "I think I'm going to be just fine." "Who?" Nicole was even more concerned. "Someone who screwed with me a long, long time ago. They are all dead, but don't worry about the bodies showing up to bother anyone," I grinned. All the full-blooded Amazons had been very still. The word 'Ahhiyawa' appeared to scare them even more than my haunting actions. To the Amazons, the Ahhiyawa were the Mycenaeans in the time of the Iliad. The problem seemed to be that I had never heard any member of the Host use that term and I was suddenly curious as to why. "You seemed to have went away for a few seconds," Nicole joked lightly. "You do appear better rested, which is good. What is on the agenda for today?" "Get my Father's body, prepare for his cremation, arrange for the last Roman Catholic Church we attended to send somebody to the service and prepare my parent's plot," I ran down. "I imagine the police and feds will want to contact me again," I piled it on. "I want to see my home if the forensic guys let me. What do you think will be aimed at me?" "We'll check up on any family attorney you may have had along with probating your father's Will, if he had one," Nicole assured me. "As for the authorities, let's see what kind of warrants they are asking for before we move beyond a 'denial' defense." "Denial, as in me claiming I didn't do anything because, ya know, I didn't do anything," I gave her a sleepy smile. "How about we eat first?" We ordered, drank our coffee, tea and juices while remaining largely non-communicative. It wasn't until the food began arriving did I realize I'd 'misplaced' Pamela once more. As I tore into a big slab of ham, I looked over my surroundings for the first time. I gave myself a mental pat on the back when I spotted Pamela then the 'big picture' kicked me in the nuts. Pamela was dressed as a server, coasting about the room, filling drinks, getting appetizer and performing the tedious little chores that waiters and waitresses had to pull off flawlessly. The other wait-staff noticed Pamela, but since she was making their jobs easier and not taking their gratuities, they ignored her. They probably thought she was some industry expert. The plates were being cleared away when Pamela returned, back in normal clothing. She dumped a pile of ID's on the table. Nicole picked them up. "Chicago PD; Organized Crime Taskforce," Nicole read off then glanced to Pamela. "ATF, Homeland Security, FBI, FBI, Chicago PD; Homicide, Federal Marshall and Federal Marshall." "What?" Pamela said between bites of her veggie omelet. "I took their identification, not their wallets. Do you want me to go back for those too; and their keys?" "No. We have risked Mr. Nyilas' freedom enough for one meal," Nicole shot back. She took Tiger Lily's empty plate, dumped the ID's on it then covered the pile with her handkerchief. "Hello," this officious young lady greeted us. I'd been distracted by Nicole's malfeasance so I missed the hotel's new Assistant Manager's approach. It was turning out to be a great morning for visitations from my past. This ghost was much younger than the last ones. Our eyes met. It was easy to see that I was the man in charge being the only man at the table. "Director Nyilas, I hope everything is going well for you and your staff this morning," she smiled. "I would also like to convey the Hotel Burnham's condolences at the passing of your father. I too was born and raised in Burnham." I already knew where she'd lived most of her life. Most critically, I very strongly recalled where she'd gone to school; all 12 grades plus K. "Cameron Sanders," I stood and extended my hand across the table. "You look familiar." Of course she looked familiar. Cameron had publically ground my soul into the grit that ants stepped upon. Her verbal rejection had been a pivotal moment in my life. After that day, I had taken responsibility for my life both anatomically and academically. Recall how I had said I was once a 'nobody'. Here was living proof. Cameron and I had gone to the same schools from Kindergarten through our senior years. We'd even shared classes and it wasn't like I could be confused with all the other 'Cáels' we'd gone to school with; because there weren't any. The same goes for 'Nyilas'. I'd been shifting the boner in my pants for three solid years because of Cameron. She had been hot in high school and she was even better looking now; Brooke hot. For a second, my confidence wavered. In that heartbeat, I realized she was just another woman and I was no longer that guy. "Where you an upperclassman at Thornton Fractional North High School?" she queried. "Hmm; do you recall Jenny Forrester?" I countered. Cameron knew her African-American rival, no doubt. The tweak in her smile said as much. "I'm going out on a limb; you look like a DePaul girl." Cameron's eyes twinkled. Her eyes flitted down to where her class ring normally held court. She had taken it off for work neutrality. "How did you guess?" Cameron tilted her hip suggestively. Sex. "So I'm right?" I reposed. I had 'guessed' right because Cameron crowed about her decision to go to DePaul over all her other offers. "I have some family business to take care of, Cameron," I nodded. "Can we catch up later today and figure out where we've intersected before this morning?" Translation: I'm going to screw you. Not 'I want to', but 'I will'. I could normally figure out a woman in an evening. I had a three year backlog of data on poor Cameron. My Pivotal Goddess was an 'upfront' girl. Her façade was bravado backed by the fear of not measuring up; not being good enough. My mistake in High School was approaching her, hat in hand. Cameron felt best when someone took the tough choices away from her. If she didn't lead, she couldn't fail by her way of thinking. Dad had stood by me that night when he came home from work. I was a broken wreck of a teenage boy. Dad hadn't told me to toughen up and he hadn't been sympathetic. All he wanted to know was what I was going to do about it. What was 'I' going to do, as if I could be the master of my own fate. That was my Dad. The next day I started working out, eating better and taking better care of myself. He was dead; still dead yet my feelings over that had evolved. He was with my ancestors now, waiting for me and my sons and daughters. Looking at it that way, he wasn't really gone at all. "I'll see what can be done," Cameron smiled. I was going to eat her up. "Oh yeah, this plate was mistakenly delivered to my table," I indicated Pamela's illegal haul. "Could you see that it gets where it needs to go after we are gone?" Cameron shot me a sultry smile without even giving her task a casual glance. A hideous tip (kudos to Odette) was added to our over-priced bill and the ladies and I retired to our rooms. It was routine heading to our room. Mona waved us to silence. Then the 'bug hunt' began. Like every Amazon persecution of opposing 'life forms', they didn't play fair. The Amazons had placed electronic surveillance in the room before they left so when unwelcomed guests showed up while we ate and Mona 'slept' we could watch where they placed their goodies in our rooms. This was not a matter of throwing a fit and tossing the electronic devices down the garbage disposal. Oh no, not in Amazon battle lore. They found out what frequency your device was broadcasting on and backtracked it. According to Tiger Lily you can use a source point and a handheld device to triangulate the receiver. Then the fun begins. First, keep the original signal going. Put a subroutine of; oh, all kinds of credit card fraud in this case with the video file then call the appropriate law enforcement agency to bust the place. The subroutine would have no point of origin, so the Amazons would be safe. The spying agency would have a headache on their hands. Credit card fraud would require them to confiscate all the equipment because the threat posed was real, even if the tip was now suspect. This was the Amazon equivalent of fixating the enemy at one point; surveillance; while making their real move on another; the funeral. The average Amazon funeral was a private affair. My Security Detail was modifying plans for an Amazon dignitary's attendance of another Society member's funerary rites. Halfway through the deception plan, Special Agents Brock and John showed up at our door. With two law firms (Pratt's and Nicole's) dancing on their foreheads, they were being polite today and inviting me down to be questioned. I asked for Detective Lisa and Investigator Horace to be there. One: I didn't dictate who investigated me. Two: they were under Internal Affairs review. I agreed with 'one'; I would say 'nothing' to any number of highly qualified law enforcement operatives. I might give answers to the two I had mentioned. 'Two' was none of my affair. They could hope for some answers when they chose the review would be over. I was more than happy spending a lifetime not talking to them. Legalize was tossed around to the point Nicole yawned, pointed out none of them were attorney's with the United States District Court of the Northern District of Illinois; damn, that's some letterhead, and they could make no deals, grant no immunities, on their own. There was no talking to be done except for the ass-reaming the Court of Appeals was going to give both the Federal attorney who applied for the surveillance warrant and the judge who signed it. Low and behold, phones began ringing. As a patrol unit was making a raid on a room three floors down, a series of shots rang out. A gun battle ensued between the three armed men in the room, the two patrolmen (women actually) and the entire misfortunate event was caught on NBC Channel Five news. Occasionally I forget I work for fundamentally viciously sick fucks. My 'team' had sent the cops and the news crew to the spot and even supplied the ignorant housekeeper with the room card-key for the cops to break in with; a hotel room is not a private dwelling. Cops break in, do their 'freeze, we are the police' thing, but before the three feds in the room could reply, 'their' computer audio equipment let off a sound of bullets firing and ricochets echoing across the room. Nature took its course after that. The feds drew and both sides began shooting. No one died, but one ATF guy was going off to surgery. They would have all earned Purple Hearts if they had been in the military and a commendation no matter what; had two law enforcement agencies not shot each other up. The chase was on for the news crew who was desperately trying to get their station to show the footage before the feds grabbed the memory cards. Despite having had no part in that fiasco, Nicole immediately clued in that the moment our two feds ran off to help their comrades it was our time to leave. Did we go to the vehicles we came in? No. That would have exhibited a lack of paranoia my guardians would have found appalling. Two new car waited a block away. Had I been better at this game, I would have noticed the lack of functioning traffic cameras around us. Instead, I went begging to the local diocese of the Catholic Church. I plead my case. Mom and Dad were devout, raised me to be a devout Catholic yet when my Mother died, my father had never gotten over the trauma and me, being a young man, hadn't explored my spirituality yet; but I promised I'd get right on it when I returned to New York. The priest who handled the end of life stuff for the Church was sympathetic. He gave me the name of a local priest near my home I could talk to on my return. He also told me that he'd received a moving letter from a nun in Uganda about a deeply spiritual moment she had shared with me years ago, so he was onboard with giving my Dad a Catholic send-off. I wasn't sure if that was a sign to never touch a wannabe Nun again, or a reminder that nun's gave incredibly positive feedback on their sexual misadventures. I went with the latter. A few more calls, the choosing of the proper crematorium and I was through with the first part of that ordeal. Next came the funeral notification and invites. The Union would send some of Dad's closest co-workers and several neighbors said they'd show up as well. Flowers, clothes, wake; well, it couldn't be in my family home. The forensic team was gone and it was free for me to wander through, but the bullet holes and blood might put a damper on the ambience. In the midst of my worries, I got a call. A polite man named Winchell Sokolowsky offered me the Marshal Fields Jr. Mansion for my personal use. If there is any doubt, Chicago is Not the city of good Samaritans, the overly polite, or even the casually kind. Chicagoans pride themselves on being tough. We have plenty of good people who help out, volunteer and try to make life easier for their fellow man. That does not encompass giving a random stranger use of a multi-million dollar mansion. If I hadn't already been living in fantasy land, I'd have been busy figuring out which one of my few male friends was pulling this prank of on me, but no. "Can I inquire about the source of this largesse, Mr. Sokolowsky? Take in mind the incredible likelihood of a government agency most foul listening in," I cautioned him. "A family friend," he responded with an amused snort. Yeah, cause my Father's funeral was all chuckles for me. Since crab-women weren't likely to know owners of mansions, this had to be my aunts. Woot. "Thank you sir. My security people will be over to sweep the place before the city, state, or federal governments can crank out another search warrant. Thank you again." "That is not unexpected," Sokolowsky replied. "Until then." Rachel looked at me as if I'd done something absurd. She may have been right. "Did you just accept shelter from an individual we do not know; except that he is certainly part of the Protocols?" she stared at me. "Come on now," I chastised her. "It's for a funerary wake. I'm not taking three hundred of the lads out for a stroll, chasing savages up the Little Big Horn, or an Irishman deciding that Oliver Cromwell is a man of his word." I leaned in and winked to Rachel. "Besides Charlie; I got an angle." Pamela, who just happened to be walking by, gave me another high-five. Rachel was really learning to hate/dread those moments of synergy between Pamela and I. "I am not allowed to kill you and I am afraid I can't kill Pamela, but please don't think I don't want to do both," Rachel ratcheted up her displeasure. "Torn into itsy-bitsy pieces;” Pamela started. "And buried alive!" I finished. Another high-five. "You two are both insane," Rachel despaired. "That's the spirit," Pamela and my comeback to Rachel was in synch once again. To prove I wasn't heartless, I hugged Rachel. She froze, arms at her side, caught between warring impulses. I maneuvered her arms around until her hands rested on the back of my hips then rested mine on the small of her back. "Rachel, I cannot go back to a safe, faceless existence," I whispered as I planted tender kisses on her forehead. "To do so would be a betrayal of; me; Ishara." Rachel let go of her emotions and rested her head against my shoulder. "Why couldn't I be tasked to do something sane; like fight drug cartels, Maoist insurgence, or corporate hit squads in the Amazon?" she sighed. I moved my hands to her ass and gave them a nice fondle making sure to slowly grind her waist against my hips. Humping her would have been a mistake. That was sexual. I was giving her a bit of physical appreciation and nothing more. Rachel tilted her head up, I brought mine down until we were nose to nose. "Promise me you will try to stay alive, Cáel," she sounded almost mournful. "I will make a deal with you," I stated. "If I make it back to New York alive, you will consent to have sex with me." Rachel was confused, suspicious yet aroused. "None of this 'one hour' in some dormitory, or nunnery cell. I want everything; a light meal, some quality touching time and a minimum of two rounds of orgasmic sex." "Ah; not a scratch," Rachel counter-offered. I nodded, kissed her nose and she felt as if she'd won something. Rachel got ready to take us to our next stop. Pamela slipped past me. "Like shooting fish in a barrel," she whispered. I had never used that term out loud before. "That's what I would say," she clarified. She was my evil psychic twin grandmother. It was through a tireless group effort that I made it back to the Hotel Burnham at 4 p.m. Cameron made a show of being busy when I first came back. I was willing to be patient. While she puttered around, I flirted with the desk clerk and one of the baggage attendants; pale skin, blonde hair with freckles and light brown skin, black hair in a Nubian weave. This was the 'professional' lure. By presenting myself as a 'Man's Man' and garnering female adoration, I was clearly not (yet) that into her. The pressure was on her and Cameron didn't like pressure because pressure equated to the possibility of failure. Her advantages which were obvious to every other observer were not certainties to her. Contest time. "Director Cáel Nyilas," Cameron interrupted my joke to the two ladies, "I'm finished up for the day." I gave a quick smile to the women I was about to leave then turned on my personal demon. "Should I wait in the lounge until you change?" "No," I waved off her objections. "You can come up to my suite and then we can go to your domicile for you to change for a night out." Quick visual clue update: she lived at home with her parents yet dated enough that it wouldn't be awkward. It also showed me that she was uncomfortable about going to my room. She wasn't so enchanted she would do something stupid. I had the answer to that. I had made it a public declaration. Not only did my hovering troop had the news, so did her front desk. Nothing bad could happen to her if everyone knew where she was; right? On the elevator ride up it was just me, Cameron, Pamela and Esmeralda. The rest travelled on ahead. She took one rear corner so I took the other. I then let my leather-soled shoes slide down the carpet, lowering my overall height compared to Cameron. At some point, I began back-spinning my feet, pretending to be on the edge of falling on my ass. I smiled at Cameron and her eyes sparkled at the vaudevillian gesture. Know your prey and I knew way more about Cameron than was healthy for any girl. For instance, she loved Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton; more of a Keaton girl. She giggled then came to my rescue. She was wrapping me up in her arms while mine stayed safely away. "You are a bit of a joker," she teased me. "Your beautiful smile makes all that effort worthwhile," I truthfully pledged to Cameron. She sighed so contentedly. Behind her back, Pamela was loading a two-barreled hunting device, aiming at some surface-based, above ground structure with an open top and gave it both barrels while avoiding the imaginary back-splash. 'Looks like herring for dinner,' she mouthed with a wicked grin. Esmeralda was soaking it in. Hadn't I pounced on Rachel a few hours earlier? I was definitely hooking Cameron and reeling her in for some sexual deviant purpose; and Pamela was mocking the whole situation. E turned and faced the doors. "You seem like a really nice guy," Cameron murmured. "I mean that in a good way." "I can't see you as any way, but truthful and kind," I met her cherished countenance. "I imagine even harsh lessons are difficult for you to deliver." There; she had one last chance to figure out the poor schlub she'd crushed at the start of our senior year was me. "Being a leader can be very tough," she moped as she pressed into me. My mumbled offerings of affection and her savage reprisal had never registered with her. I was going to eat her alive. "How about I take care of you tonight?" I requested. She hesitated, not out of fear, but confusion. "Completely relax and I'll make the decisions for this one night. Your mind will be free to enjoy and discard at your pleasure." On most levels, Cameron was seeing this as a date. She was a 'dating' girl. She didn't give up the goodies until date three, if I was exceptionally good; date four, or five otherwise. I was about to dispose of that with a clever case of role reversal. My two staffers vanished as I entered my lakeside executive suite. A splendid view I thought I'd never be able to afford the last day; The 28th of December. I had enough money for a flight and a date picking me up at the airport. Bolingbrook had an inordinate amount of students stay the holidays and, by tradition, the graduating class hosted a New Year's Eve party for those students and the staff. I had told Dad about Havenstone and my infinitesimal chances of that kind of job. That was it. He patted me on the shoulder. There was no pressure to come back to Burnham after graduation if I didn't have a job lined up. It was my home if I needed it. So much was unspoken between us. I could tell he was proud; college; good grades; popular; happy. I shouldn't have taken for granted we'd get a chance to talk later. Back to the joy at hand. "So, what's it like working with your Dad?" I dropped into our causal conversation. I was in the bedroom, door open; really? Why do they put doors on those things? The 'Daddy' question could be taken two ways and I trusted Cameron to take it the worse way; and to be pissed. "My Father didn't get me the job here!" Cameron stormed in and insisted with a nice spirited mare stomp of the foot as emphasis. I 'just happened' to be naked, half turned away and a nice, highly suggestive pair of men's underwear in my hands. "What do you mean?" I was clearly confused. I turned a bit more toward her. Now she could almost see everything. "You; you have scars all over your body," she moaned. "I am a warrior, Cameron. This is the kind of man I am," I gave her a fierce, dominating gaze. "I fight for what I want and I brutally defend that which is mine. Who did you think I was?" Had Cameron been a fighter, that would have been the point she left the room. She was all up-front, bravado and a superior façade over an insecure, parentally driven trophy for their mantel place. My anger faded. It wasn't her fault I couldn't read her signs four years ago. I was still going to fuck her to the afterlife and back, but this time I'd be doing it as an informative journey. "I don't know anymore," Cameron tried to rally some sort of coherent rampart. "Come here," I beckoned her with one hand (the one without the underwear). Cameron shook her head. "Cameron, please believe me, there are things my staff would let me get away with; rape is not one of them. I won't touch you anywhere unless you give me permission." If you are a girl in the room at this point, you are toast. I just made it safe to touch my naked body. Sure, you have clothes on; for now, but not for long. Why? Women desire sex about as much as men do. Unless you are a vapid fashion model with substance abuse issues, men with non-disfiguring scars are an aphrodisiac. Add to that a hard-forged physique and men, sex is there for the taking. "I; uh;” she kept taking baby-steps forward. "I; Pam; Pamela is it?" "Yo," Pamela answered in a bored manner, knife in hand, then, "Whoa now!" she pointed her knife at my equipment. "Sheath that, young man. Put it under wraps right now." "I'm grown man, Pamela," I griped. I also put on my underwear. "Pluck the freaking pebble out of my hand, bitch, and then I'll call you an adult," Pamela sneered. Looking to Cameron, "Anything else Miss?" "No, thank you; no, wait. What do you do for Mr. Nyilas?" Cameron asked. "I'm his psychic medium," was Pamela's sage reply. That supernatural bogusness made Cameron happy. It shouldn't have. "Yeah, I kill his enemies then interrogate their souls," Pamela added with a nod. "It is highly rewarding work." Cameron's mouth gaped. "How about I shut the door and give you two kids some privacy." "What does she really do?" Cameron whispered to me. Part of me wanted to say 'she told you'. "She's my masseuse," I lied. I started putting my pants on (forgetting my socks) then fell/sat on the bed. Cameron came to my bedside. I rolled on my back and highly exaggerated the effort it took to pull them up. Cameron began giggling. "Hey, these are my 'skinny' slacks. I wouldn't laugh at you if our positions were switched." "Really?" she teased me. I laughed and she laughed along. "Cameron, think about it. I'm shirtless and definitely bra-less. I'm pretty sure I'd be too distracted by a multitude of your other assets to snicker," I countered. Cameron blushed and smiled. Ah, the visual image in Cameron's head was her, with jeans, racy panties and nothing else on while I hovered over her, relishing her attempts to conceal her charms. I shuffled back on the bed and resumed pulling my slacks up. Cameron followed, right into the danger zone. "Wait;” she put a hand on my abdomen. "What caused that scar?" So I told her. Okay, I gave her an abridged version of the truth. Fine, I lied like a big dog. I had the amazing habit of stumbling across women in need of saving. I bled for their virtue and honor, racked with intense pain before a violent victory was seized by my masculine hands. I was sure that Pamela and Rachel were hiding just outside the door, retching into waste baskets over the layers upon layers of my tripe. Around wound twelve, I was sure if I had asked Cameron to wear little lamb ears and a bell around her neck, she would have; had one been handy. To be fair, I wasn't fighting off legions of Green Beret. I was doing one better. I was using thinly-veiled caricatures of her High School enemies and nemeses. I was revealing their wickedness and pummeling them for their evil ways. There is a precious look a woman has when she miraculously discovers she is going to have the intercourse she's wanted yet somehow not recognized that need for until that moment. Cameron had that look, straddling me, skirt hiked up to her waist and vulva riding my cock (two layers intervening). We were out of wounds. "The rest are covered up," I explained in a predatory voice. Yes, Cameron was going to have sex and she had no control of events whatsoever and I hadn't even laid a hand on her yet. "Where?" she was suddenly baffled. "Pants," I kept it short and to the point. Cameron looked over her shoulder She reluctantly started to dismount so she could get to them so I made my move. I grabbed her hips in mid-dismount and rotated her around to reverse-cowgirl. Cameron began tugging off my pants with my legs raised high. My stomach crunches kicked in and I leveraged my torso up as well. I deftly moved her skirt up and went straight to the ass massage. Cameron's head shot around, eyes fearful. I had broken my word to not touch her without permission. Yes, I had lied to a girl; Now, I kissed her right on the lips, expertly delivered a delving French kiss and moved one hand to her right breast for an aggressive fondle. Cameron was really getting into it. Her nipples were highly sensitive. Her ass was humping like an over-eager sorority girl pole-dancing on Amateur Night. On cue, Cameron broke free and flew off the bed. "What; you; I thought we were going out?" she whined. She was horny as hell and didn't want to be held accountable at it. "Why are you running away?" I reclined back, solely in my underwear now. I was using my 'I'm disappointed in you' voice. Yes, I was 'guilting' a girl into having sex. Duh. I would never coerce a woman, or take one not in her right mind; that's using forces beyond her control. Guilt? Guilt has a foundation squarely in a woman's mind, just like humor, romance, common interests (feigned or not) and horniness. Girls can control guilt just like any other psychological trigger. It is called being shameless and I ought to know. Remember guys, it cuts both ways. Don't think so? You've had a girlfriend three whole months to the point she's staying over a night or two a week. One night, after your (hopefully) second round, you both discover it is that time of the month. 'Babe (or whatever pet name she has saddled you with), can you run to the store and get me some tampons and pads?' That, by the way, was not a question. She, for hygiene reasons, can't put her clothes on and go out herself. So, you go out to the Quick-Mart at 2 a.m. praying to God that none of your buddies are on a late night beer run and see you with your; stuff. You are not doing this for sex. She's not feeling 100% at the moment. Why are you? Guilt. She was at your place, making your Baloney Pony happy and this happened. You could send her out to the store. Not only is she not the only woman out there, many women understand guys getting freaked out about menstrual products. No, you feel guilty and risk the ridicule of your peers because it is your fault and you are not a dick-wad. And why did she ask you to do something that has nothing to do with you? Women are equally aware that guilt works, Baby. Back to our tale; "I'm not running away," sounded empty coming out of her mouth. "You said; touching." "I think you gave that option up when you crawled on top of me," I leered. "I clearly want to be with you, Cameron. You have given every indication you want to be with me, so I ask you again, why are you suddenly running away?" I kept after her. "I don't want to have sex; right now," again, she sounded weak. "Whatever happens, I go back to New York in two days," I met her shaky gaze. "You can set a time table if you like. The actuality of my life is relentless. I have things to get back to. If you are going to go, then go. I'll head out alone tonight, get a few drinks, come back early and grab some shut-eye," I shrugged. I went searching for my pants. See, she wasn't some random fuck. I wasn't leaving to replace her; making her a failure. I was hemming her in. I had the timeline. I had made my desires clear. There was no negotiation so while she appeared to have choices, she didn't and she knew it. For a girl who had spent so much effort working hard to not disappoint the main masculine figure in her life there was only one thing to do. "I don't want you to think I ever do anything like this," she propped up her morals while stutter-stepping back to the bed. "I feel I have a connection with you." Ah; the 'I have a connection with you' excuse. It would have been so appropriate if she actually remembered me. I pulled her onto the bed, went through the obligatory trying to push me off then we were back to the kissing and humping. Cameron turned out to be a 'use me' girl. That does Not mean abuse, it means she gets off being a responder to her partner's sexual directions. Caress her cheek, jaw and throat and she'd cup my chin, or massage my chest. Cameron was smart and a quick-learner. Her problem was a lack of a sense of adventure and an aversion to taking the lead. With the phantom applause of a hundred other male 'losers' who went to Fractional North High School, I ‘did' the queen who had been beyond us all only four years ago. The erotic twist to all that was with every sense of triumph and pleasure, Cameron mimicked me. Certainly we were both having a memorable time. I had to touch, lick, knead, and fondle every inch of Cameron's body. We both explored our nipple fetish, sixty-nined and engaged in some anal play; no penetration. I completed my first sojourn with the removal of the condom and the blowjob that had been the fantasy of countless hours in my home's upstairs bathroom. Cameron didn't just swallow; she savored and looked like she wanted more. Normally I cuddle beside my partner post-coitus. With Cameron, I lay on top of her at eye level. I put enough weight on her to let her feel pinned without real discomfort. "I have a confession," I gave her a sweaty-faced grin. "What?" she asked then gave me a peck on the lips. "We went to school together; same grade and everything," I enlightened her. "We even talked once." Cameron didn't know what to make of that. "I'll put that in perspective though. Do you believe that if you do something you do your best? Do you believe in craftsmanship?" "Cáel, you are scaring me," Cameron frowned. "Fifteen seconds and you can go," I conveyed with as much calm as I could. "Answer my question." "Okay; yes, I believe in doing your best. I believe in craftsmanship," Cameron played along. "Your words; 'never in a million years'." I related and waited. First there was the uncertainty and fear of the odd course our relationship had taken. It took a few seconds because so few pieces of the puzzle fit. "Cáel Nyilas; it was you; start of senior year; I had been," she muttered. Then came the real fear. "You must hate me." "I thought about it," I said, "but that isn't really me. See, you helped create me. Truth be told, you were only the catalyst. I did all the work." "A great many women helped. They were never a replacement for you. I was taught better than that by my first lover," I continued. "Still, I would be totally different if you hadn't casually annihilated my self-worth that September day." Pause. "Do you like the results?" "You really don't hate me;” Cameron was coming around. "It was high school. We all screw up in high school. According to a few studies, if you don't make a mess of high school, you are destined for failure," I related some real information. "You are getting hard again," Cameron gasped back to being okay with things between us. "Perhaps I should have warned you," I grinned wickedly. "I'm a sex addict." "Hey, Sex Addict!" Pamela shouted into the room. "There are some people out here to see you." "Good people, or bad people?" I shouted back. "Worse," Pamela replied. "The kind of people that want something from you." That was vaguely unpromising. "Cameron, take a shower and we'll talk about dinner when you get out. I think I need to take care of this," I sighed. Off went Cameron to the shower and on went my robe. In the main room, with a variety of levels of sexual tension, were sixteen women I didn't know. The Hotel Burnham has very nice suites, but they are not ballrooms. The room was pretty crowded, with not enough chairs and wall space getting sparse. They were all Havenstone women and I was willing to bet the average age was thirty-five; not my normal crowd. At least I knew why they were all there. Pamela suspected. Rachel and her team were clueless. "Hi, I am known as Cáel Nyilas," I greeted them. "A short history lesson and things will make a great deal more sense, so please be patient." The crowd was not pleased. I was a male and to a woman, the ladies had repudiated the world of men. They were all 'Runners'. It was the presence of Rachel's group that was keeping them civil at this point. "Twenty-five hundred years ago, as the Second Betrayal was ending, there was a small group of males who had proven themselves to the Amazon Host, taken into houses and their names were written on the Amazon Rolls," I started off. "Two of those males and three male children of one of the houses survived the massacre the female Amazons inflicted on their kin." That bought me a moment. Slaughtering your own babies, even male babies, wasn't something they would shrug off. "Well, if you know your Amazon politics, you know that the children of an Amazon who dies while in service of the Host becomes a member of the Host; so on and so on." The implications were sinking in as was the nervousness. "One of those men was a young warrior named Vranus of House Ishara. I am the sole surviving heir of Vranus. We are also here for the burial of my Father, who was murdered Sunday night. The next bit of Amazon politics. House Ishara was an extinct First House," I continued. "Oh shit," was uttered from half-dozen lips as they moved to the next, obvious step. "The succession to the Head of House for any House is elevation by your peers, accepted ritual combat and; the oldest surviving member of the House," I added. "By the Seven Martial Goddess; don't you have to be female? I mean; We are Amazons!" one of the 'Runners' yelled in disbelief. "Do you plan to add more males to your House?" one of the senior members growled. "Two things; it should not bother you one way, or another, and it is not MY House. It is the House of my Ancestor, Ishara. If this is going to be a problem, you are in the wrong room," I met her hostile glare ember for ember. That one headed for the door. "Wait," a fellow 'Runner' grabbed her arm. "You can't be going along with this Marsha?" the departing Amazon snapped. "I don't know this one, but I trust Buffy," Marsha countered. "Ok ladies, so that we are clear," Pamela sighed. "The next one of you to insult the Head of House Ishara, I am going to drag into the other room, kill you and cut you up into giblets for room service to take away," Pamela sounded positively disinterested. "I am not afraid of you," the departing one glared. "That would be a serious mistake," Rachel interjected quietly. Deep breath from me. "Listen, this is a highly improbable incident. I am not asking anyone to embrace the society you have rejected. In fact, I admire you for the strength it took to transition. I also ask you to accept the fact that I DO NOT want to be here, doing this, with any of you," I made one last effort. "Quite frankly, you man-haters scare me; being a man and all. You seem to think I have a choice in any of this. I don't. I am the heir of Vranus. I am the last known living descendant of the Amazon who chose the name Ishara for the sake of her house's unity," I stated. "I don't want to do this, but I'm not the kind of human being who runs away from my responsibilities." "Okay; Cáel of Ishara, why are we here?" Marsha said as she kept the other one from leaving. "Sixty years ago, the Amazon Houses swore an oath to the women who joined their cause. They lied to you. They have not kept up their side of the bargain. They have refused virtually all of you entry into the status as true, full-blooded Amazons," I explained. "And now you are going to rectify that; injustice?" the senior one kept mocking me. "Fine; you and me; one last chance," I sighed. "Look around you. Who do you see? The prettiest, the most pliable, the most power-hungry? If you can point out one woman in this room that doesn't deserve to be a Full-Blooded Amazon, leave now." "You didn't choose any of us," she responded. "Exactly!" I shouted. "I didn't choose any of you to be in House Ishara. Buffy Ishara and Helena Ishara did. Why? Because I don't know any of you, or your sacrifices and worth to Havenstone. I gave that duty to the two; and only two; member of House Ishara who would know who was the most worthy to be in a First House." "We are here to be inducted," one of the silent Amazons voiced with a dream-like quality. "Yes. Barring being rejected by Ishara, you will be inducted at my Father's graveside tomorrow morning," I stated clearly. "How many?" Senior questioned. "This time; twenty," I answered. "I have no agenda and no set number of 'Runners' to be inducted into House Ishara. It doesn't work

Kanadiske Margaret Atwood er en levende legende. Siden debuten i 1961 med diktsamlingen Double Persephone, har hun over 70 utgivelser bak seg, av poesi, novellesamlinger, romaner, barnebøker, essaysamlinger og opera-librettoer, inkludert verdenskjente titler som Tjenerinnens beretning og MaddAddam-trilogien. Atwoods har særlig markert seg med sine utforskninger av totalitarisme, patriarkalske strukturer og miljøødeleggelse, og er kjent for sin nærmest profetiske spekulative fiksjon, der hun har skildret temaer som innsnevring av kvinners rettigheter, en verdensomspennende pandemi og klimakollaps.Litterært er Atwood fabulerende, uredd og original, med tydelige referanser til litteraturhistorien, enten det er klassiske tekster, eventyr, eller forfattere som William Shakespeare og George Orwell. Litteraturen hennes inneholder ofte elementer fra historiske hendelser, og peker samtidig framover mot nye verdener og nye muligheter.Atwood møtte journalist og forfatter Karin Haugen til samtale om sitt omfangsrike forfatterskap, om historie, samtid, og profetiske fortellinger.Denne samtalen ble arrangert av Litteraturhuset, og foregikk 31. oktober 2024 på hovedscenen til Den Norske Opera og Ballett. Litteraturhusets podkast presenterer bearbeidede versjoner av utvalgte samtaler og foredrag fra Litteraturhusets program. Musikk av Apothek. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Canadian author Margaret Atwood is a living legend. Since her debut in 1961 with the poetry collection Double Persephone, she has published more than 70 books of poetry, short story collections, novels, children's books, essay collections and even opera librettos, including the world-renowned novels The Handmaid's Tale and the MaddAddam trilogy. Atwood has truly made her mark with her literary explorations of totalitarianism, patriarchal structures and environmental destruction, and is known for her almost prophetic speculative fiction, set in societies curbing women's rights or experiencing a worldwide pandemic or environmental collapse.In her literature, Atwood is mischievous, fearless and original, frequently incorporating elements from classical texts, fairytales and works by writers like William Shakespeare or George Orwell. While her books often include elements from historical events, they also suggest new worlds and possibilities for the future.Atwood was joined by journalist and writer Karin Haugen for a conversation about the past and the present, prophetic stories and her unique body of work. This conversation was hosted by The House of Literature in Oslo and took place on October 31st, 2024 at the Oslo Opera House. LitHouse is a podcast from The House of Literature in Oslo, presenting adapted versions of lectures and conversations featuring international writers and thinkers. Music by Apothek. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Multiple times World Champion Taylor Atwood returns to KOTL to discuss his big comeback performance, his arrival as an 83 kg lifter, the battle of the 83s to come at US Nationals, Joe Borenstein's bold rise, Ade's inclusion to Sheffield, DMs him and Russ exchanged, his new goals in his new weight class, and much more! Hosted by 6 Pack Lapadat

Host Marcia Franklin talks with author Margaret Atwood about her work, which includes the bestselling novel, “The Handmaid's Tale” and its sequel, “The Testaments.” Atwood also shares her thoughts on whether the United States could head towards totalitarianism. The conversation was recorded at the 2024 Sun Valley Writers' Conference.

Greg Marchildon talks to Ken McGoogan about his book, Shadows of Tyranny: Defending Democracy in an Age of Dictatorship. Shadows of Tyranny by Ken McGoogan explores how figures like Donald Trump reflect the authoritarianism of the mid-20th century. Drawing on thinkers like Orwell and Atwood, McGoogan examines how paranoia and demagoguery contributed to democracy's decline and argues these same forces are fueling a far-right movement in the U.S. that threatens democratic values. In this cautionary work, McGoogan warns of a dark future while urging action to prevent it. Ken McGoogan is a Canadian author of seventeen books, primarily nonfiction, including bestsellers like Searching for Franklin, Fatal Passage, and Canada's Undeclared War. His latest book, Shadows of Tyranny, examines how figures like Donald Trump reflect mid-20th-century authoritarianism. McGoogan has received numerous awards, including the Pierre Berton Award for Popular History. He is a fellow of the Explorers Club and the Royal Canadian Geographical Society and works as a resource historian with Adventure Canada. Originally from Montreal, he now lives in Guelph, ON. Image Credit: Douglas & McIntyre If you like our work, please consider supporting it: bit.ly/support_WTY. Your support contributes to the Champlain Society's mission of opening new windows to directly explore and experience Canada's past.

Sub Junior Worlds Best Lifter Elliott Sykes joins KOTL to discuss his big performance at Worlds, comparisons to Perk and Atwood, his future goals, avoiding burning out before he reaches his peak, rivals, dealing with the pressure as a teen, and much more. Hosted by 6 Pack Lapadat

Trailer - https://www.youtube.com/watch?si=Lbo8hMbt6c47XwvH&v=TvOnFbXoqxE&feature=youtu.be Filmmaker Meosha Bean interviews Jensen Atwood plays- hakeem baylor FBI detective who has been around and seen a lot of things happen even to his own family. Bio Historically, Atwood played Wade Robinson in LOGOs cable series Noah's ARC.Steven RHO plays - Daniel Montrose booksmart Guy, who is learning the ropes of fieldwork under agent. Baylor, very observant and his keen sense is what guides him Bronsonn Taylor plays -Booda the muscle for Ramirez Ponce they grew up together, has always been by Rez side, but his mama's voice keeps playing in his headmVanessa Tamayo plays Valentina ponce, the wife of the bad guy Ramirez Ponce. She has an affinity for finer things, including art, but also very deep and does not like when others are in pain.Bio Vanessa Tamayo - Colombo-Brazilian actress and producer. Grew up in theatre as part of the cast of Cenicienta (Cinderella) in Colombia, Marat Sade in Canada, and Shakespeare is a White Supremacist in Miami among others. Vanessa has also been part of different Netflix productions such as Sin Senos Si Hay Paraiso, Ingobernable, Lady La Vendedora de Rosas, and Cien Días para Enamorarnos. Vanessa's big screen debut was in the film Out of the Dark working alongside Julia Stiles and Scott Speedman. Her most recent work can be seen starring in The Attack of the Meth Gator (Prime Video) and Monster Grizzly (Tubi). And also looking forward to the release of the Tubi series Spilled Paint, and the films View From the Edge and A Time to Dance.About show : A sinister figure in the underground art world forces talented artists to paint fakes and passes them off to influential players to make him rich, then kills them until a famed artist, thought dead, resurfaces. Meosha Bean Films on Plex https://watch.plex.tv/person/meosha-beanWatch Meosha films on Tubi -- https://tubitv.com/person/b00c45/meosha-bean Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/creator-to-creators-with-meosha-bean--4460322/support.

In The Odyssey, Penelope is mostly a side character who exists to be faithful to Odysseus (and clever enough to be compatible with him). Atwood's Penelopiad asks: what was Penelope up to? What did she want? What if the Homeric version of Odysseus' story isn't the true one? And what if Penelope's version isn't either? This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at betterhelp.com/overdue and get on your way to being your best self.Our theme music was composed by Nick Lerangis.Follow @overduepod on Instagram and BlueskyAdvertise on OverdueSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

74 kg GOAT Taylor Atwood returns to KOTL to discuss his plans to return to competing, who the current pound for pound King is, recent upsets in Powerlifting, past situations he found himself in, the next generation on the rise, women's division progress, and much more! Hosted by 6 Pack Lapadat

On this episode of Anchored, Soren is joined by Preston Atwood, head of school at Westminster Academy in Memphis, Tennessee and author of Cantate Domino: A Liturgical Songbook for Classical Christian Schools. They discuss the difficulty and the necessity of figuring out how to flourish as a human being while serving as an administrator. Preston explains music as a liberal art and his belief that education without music is no education at all. They close by discussing his book, Cantate Domino as the classical education movement's songbook, as well as the value of repetition and liturgical music for educational formation. 

My friends Jessica Salter and Jett Atwood (gay Latter-day Saint women in a same-sex marriage, attend and believe in Church) join us to share their stories. Jett & Jessie (who were married on June 15, 2024) talk about their supportive ward in Utah County (including their bishopric attending their reception) and being so fortunate to have many in their ward “catch” them. Jett (who is older than Jessie; Washington DC South RM, gifted cartoonist) talks about her journey to accept that her sexual orientation is part of her divine nature. Jessie (mother of 3 kids, former adjunct professor at BYU) also talks about accepting her sexual orientation and how they found each other. Both women talk about their supportive ward, principles to better support queer Latter-day Saints, the resurrection, focusing on what is in their control, their love of the church, and the beauty of their marriage and family. Thank you, Jessie and Jett, for sharing your story. You are two wonderful women—doing much to bless and help others. I'm glad the two of you found each other. Links: Instagram account: @headedtonineveh

In this episode of Frictionless Marketing, host Paul Dyer welcomes chats with Amy Atwood, Vice President of Regional Communication and Philanthropy at Takeda Pharmaceuticals. With over 25 years in corporate communications, Amy shares her journey, insights on the evolving pharmaceutical industry, advice for communications professionals, and perspectives on purpose-driven work and DEI. Together, Paul and Amy recap key themes from the Fierce Pharma PR Communications Summit East, including the impact of AI, storytelling, health equity, and the significance of having communicators at decision-making tables. Moreover, Amy discusses the importance of wellness and reverse mentorship in the workplace.00:00 Introduction to Frictionless Marketing00:01 Meet Amy Atwood: A Journey in Corporate Communications01:01 Key Themes from the Fierce Pharma PR Communications Summit01:44 The Role of AI in Communications03:59 Health Equity and DEI in the Pharmaceutical Industry06:15 The Importance of Communications in Business Strategy20:20 Crisis Communications: Best Practices and Insights22:19 Embracing Failures and Learning from Them23:07 The Future of Communications: Measurement and Analytics29:10 Wellness and Work-Life Balance for Communicators32:10 Conclusion and Final ThoughtsFrictionless Marketing is a production from /prompt, the leading earned first creative marketing and communications agency. Grounded in the present, yet attuned to the future. To learn more about how to make marketing frictionless, purchase Friction Fatigue by /prompt CEO Paul Dyer online and at booksellers worldwide.Frictionless Marketing is a production from /prompt, the leading earned first creative marketing and communications agency. Grounded in the present, yet attuned to the future.Produced and distributed by Simpler Media Productions.

This week, forever friend of the pod Grace Atwood stopped by to talk about her Three Things!   Grace's Things Streaming audiobooks while needle-pointing All-white outfits with black accessories Liz Adams' Cottage Cheese Ranch Dip  Grilled Peaches (that she had at Le Great Outdoor)   Bonus Things: These Target sandals Becca loves, this Amazon shorts set we love, No One Tells You This: A Memoir by Glynnis MacNicol    What Grace is Reading Four Seasons: The Story of a Business Philosophy by Isadore Sharp  James by Percival Everett The Art of Small Talk by Casey Wilson, Jessica St. Clair   Obsessions: Olivia - Real Housewives of Orange County  Becca - On Cloud sneakers   Books: Becca - Husbands and Lovers by Beatriz Williams (check content warnings!)  Olivia - Middle of the Night by Riley Sager   This Month's Book Club Pick - Margo's Got Money Troubles by Rufi Thorpe (have thoughts about this book you want to share? Call in at 843-405-3157 or email us a voice memo at badonpaperpodcast@gmail.com)    Join our Facebook group for amazing book recs & more!  Buy our Merch! Join our Geneva! Order Olivia's Book, Such a Bad Influence! Subscribe to Olivia's Newsletter! Order Becca's Book, The Christmas Orphans Club! Subscribe to Becca's Newsletter!  Follow us on Instagram @badonpaperpodcast. Follow Olivia on Instagram @oliviamuenter and Becca @beccamfreeman.  

This week we are listening to an Exhortation from Bro. Chris Atwood titled “The Formula of Faith" that was given at the Simi Hills Ecclesia on July 24, 2009. We hope this strengthens your Faith and brightens your day! Thank you for listening, God bless, and talk to you next week. Send talk suggestions or comments to: ⁠⁠GoodChristadelphianTalks@gmail.com⁠⁠ For Show Notes, visit our website: ⁠⁠GoodChristadelphianTalks.com⁠⁠ Social Media: ⁠⁠Facebook⁠⁠ | ⁠⁠Instagram

Hear sermons from Trevor here: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/city-church-murfreesboro/id460933111 nobigdyl. link in bio: https://ffm.bio/nobigdyllielisten to nobigdyl. on all streaming platforms

In a harrowing case out of Pasco County, Florida, Rory Atwood, 25, is facing four counts of first-degree murder for the deaths of Rain Mancini, 26, Phillip Zilliot II, 25, and their two young children, Karma Zilliot, 6, and Phillip Zilliot III, 5. According to the Pasco County Sheriff's Office, the family was killed in the early hours of June 13 following an argument at Atwood's home on his 10-acre property in Hudson. A newly-filed probable cause affidavit details a grim narrative. On June 17, a friend of Atwood told deputies he was summoned to Atwood's house on the morning of June 13 with a bottle of bleach. Upon arrival, he found the porch washed and Atwood asleep in a recliner. Atwood claimed he had killed Mancini and Zilliot II in self-defense after they attacked him following the murder of their own children. Atwood said he disarmed them of a 9 mm gun and shot them. The friend later discovered Mancini's body near a firepit, wrapped in a rug, with her legs protruding. A child's foot, adorned with pink and purple nail polish, was visible in the debris. In a subsequent interview on June 20, the friend revealed that Atwood admitted to finding the children in the laundry room hours after he shot their parents. He confessed to shooting the 5-year-old boy in the head because he “felt bad” seeing him convulsing. The Pasco County Sheriff's Office conducted a welfare check on June 13 after a report of a disturbing FaceTime call showing what appeared to be bodies. Although deputies noticed a smoldering burn pit, they initially found nothing suspicious, and Atwood denied knowledge of the family's whereabouts, claiming they had been evicted on June 1st. The investigation intensified when deputies, prompted by a tip from another of Atwood's friends, returned with a cadaver dog on June 14. The dog uncovered human remains, including a child's foot and bone fragments, in the fire pit, which showed signs of an intense blaze. Investigators also found evidence that the porch had been cleaned with chlorine. At a press conference on June 15, Sheriff Chris Nocco expressed his sorrow, particularly for the children, whom he believed to be dead. The affidavit states that Atwood initially denied killing the family but later confessed, claiming self-defense. However, deputies found no injuries on Atwood that supported his story. He eventually admitted to burning all four bodies in the fire pit. Atwood is currently held at the Pasco County Jail without bond. Want to listen to ALL of our podcasts AD-FREE? Subscribe through APPLE PODCASTS, and try it for three days free: https://tinyurl.com/ycw626tj Follow Our Other Cases: https://www.truecrimetodaypod.com The latest on The Downfall of Diddy, The Trial of Karen Read, The Murder Of Maddie Soto, Catching the Long Island Serial Killer, Awaiting Admission: BTK's Unconfessed Crimes, Delphi Murders: Inside the Crime, Chad & Lori Daybell, The Murder of Ana Walshe, Alex Murdaugh, Bryan Kohberger, Lucy Letby, Kouri Richins, Malevolent Mormon Mommys, Justice for Harmony Montgomery, The Murder of Stephen Smith, The Murder of Madeline Kingsbury, and much more! Listen at https://www.truecrimetodaypod.com

In a harrowing case out of Pasco County, Florida, Rory Atwood, 25, is facing four counts of first-degree murder for the deaths of Rain Mancini, 26, Phillip Zilliot II, 25, and their two young children, Karma Zilliot, 6, and Phillip Zilliot III, 5. According to the Pasco County Sheriff's Office, the family was killed in the early hours of June 13 following an argument at Atwood's home on his 10-acre property in Hudson. A newly-filed probable cause affidavit details a grim narrative. On June 17, a friend of Atwood told deputies he was summoned to Atwood's house on the morning of June 13 with a bottle of bleach. Upon arrival, he found the porch washed and Atwood asleep in a recliner. Atwood claimed he had killed Mancini and Zilliot II in self-defense after they attacked him following the murder of their own children. Atwood said he disarmed them of a 9 mm gun and shot them. The friend later discovered Mancini's body near a firepit, wrapped in a rug, with her legs protruding. A child's foot, adorned with pink and purple nail polish, was visible in the debris. In a subsequent interview on June 20, the friend revealed that Atwood admitted to finding the children in the laundry room hours after he shot their parents. He confessed to shooting the 5-year-old boy in the head because he “felt bad” seeing him convulsing. The Pasco County Sheriff's Office conducted a welfare check on June 13 after a report of a disturbing FaceTime call showing what appeared to be bodies. Although deputies noticed a smoldering burn pit, they initially found nothing suspicious, and Atwood denied knowledge of the family's whereabouts, claiming they had been evicted on June 1st. The investigation intensified when deputies, prompted by a tip from another of Atwood's friends, returned with a cadaver dog on June 14. The dog uncovered human remains, including a child's foot and bone fragments, in the fire pit, which showed signs of an intense blaze. Investigators also found evidence that the porch had been cleaned with chlorine. At a press conference on June 15, Sheriff Chris Nocco expressed his sorrow, particularly for the children, whom he believed to be dead. The affidavit states that Atwood initially denied killing the family but later confessed, claiming self-defense. However, deputies found no injuries on Atwood that supported his story. He eventually admitted to burning all four bodies in the fire pit. Atwood is currently held at the Pasco County Jail without bond. Want to listen to ALL of our podcasts AD-FREE? Subscribe through APPLE PODCASTS, and try it for three days free: https://tinyurl.com/ycw626tj Follow Our Other Cases: https://www.truecrimetodaypod.com The latest on The Downfall of Diddy, The Trial of Karen Read, The Murder Of Maddie Soto, Catching the Long Island Serial Killer, Awaiting Admission: BTK's Unconfessed Crimes, Delphi Murders: Inside the Crime, Chad & Lori Daybell, The Murder of Ana Walshe, Alex Murdaugh, Bryan Kohberger, Lucy Letby, Kouri Richins, Malevolent Mormon Mommys, Justice for Harmony Montgomery, The Murder of Stephen Smith, The Murder of Madeline Kingsbury, and much more! Listen at https://www.truecrimetodaypod.com

Today, you'll be hearing from Margaret Atwood, whose work has been published in more than forty-five countries, is the author of more than fifty books of fiction, poetry, critical essays, and graphic novels. Perhaps most notably, she authored The Handmaid's Tale, now an award-winning TV series. In this episode, Atwood offers tips on writing without expectation, the importance of a surprising plot, generating ideas, saying no, and much more.   5x #1 Bestselling Author and Motivational Speaker Erik Qualman has performed in over 55 countries and reached over 50 million people this past decade. He was voted the 2nd Most Likable Author in the World behind Harry Potter's J.K. Rowling.   Have Erik speak at your conference: eq@equalman.com   Motivational Speaker | Erik Qualman has inspired audiences at FedEx, Chase, ADP, Huawei, Starbucks, Godiva, FBI, Google, and many more on Focus and Digital Leadership.   Learn more at https://equalman.com

As the CEO of Arkus, Inc., Jason Atwood is the epitome of a leader who has embedded GTD in his company culture. Beyond the basics of productivity, he educates employees on how to communicate effectively, including advice on when to change the channel to a more suitable means of communication. His company is built on trust, with clear expectations and metrics, rather than tracking where and for how long someone sits at a desk or is in front of a webcam. He emphasizes that in addition to the accountability of GTD, there is a larger culture of accountability that supports all in doing their best work. You can listen to the entire conversation from July 2023 at GTD Connect®. -- This audio is one of many available at GTD Connect, a learning space and community hub for all things GTD. Join GTD practitioners from around the world in learning, sharing, and developing the skills for stress-free productivity. Sign up for a free guest pass Learn about membership options Knowing how to get the right things done is a key to success. It's easy to get distracted and overwhelmed. Stay focused and increase productivity with GTD Connect—a subscription-based online learning center from the David Allen Company. GTD Connect gives you access to a wealth of multimedia content designed to help you stay on track and deepen your awareness of principles you can also learn in GTD courses, coaching, and by reading the Getting Things Done book. You'll also get the support and encouragement of a thriving global community of people you won't find anywhere else. If you already know you'd like to join, click here to choose from monthly or annual options. If you'd like to try GTD Connect free for 14 days, read on for what's included and how to get your free trial. During your 14-day free trial, you will have access to: Recorded webinars with David Allen & the certified coaches and trainers on a wide range of productivity topics GTD Getting Started & Refresher Series to reinforce the fundamentals you may have learned in a GTD course, coaching, or book Extensive audio, video, and document library Slice of GTD Life series to see how others are making GTD stick David Allen's exclusive interviews with people in his network all over the world Lively members-only discussion forums sharing ideas, tips, and tricks Note: GTD Connect is designed to reinforce your learning, and we also recommend that you take a course, get individual coaching, or read the Getting Things Done book. Ready to start your free trial?

I recently returned to my old hometown, Winston-Salem, NC, for a live podcast at Lot63 in Old Salem. There, I was joined by two of my old Profs at Wake Forest University Divinity School, Dr. Bill Leonard and Dr. Craig Atwood,  the brand new Dean of the Divinity School, Dr. Corey Walker, and music from… Read more about Craig Atwood: Getting Ziggy with Zinzendorf

I recently returned to my old hometown, Winston-Salem, NC, for a live podcast at Lot63 in Old Salem. There, I was joined by two of my old Profs at Wake Forest University Divinity School, Dr. Bill Leonard and Dr. Craig Atwood,  the brand new Dean of the Divinity School, Dr. Corey Walker, and music from a fellow alum Kyle Caudle. In this half of the live show, I talk with my former historical theology Professor, Craig Atwood. Not only did I take historical theology with him, but he facilitated one of the most fun and intense independent studies on the thought of Friedrich Schleiermacher. Dr. Craig Atwood is the premier Moravian historical theologian. He is best known for his books Community of the Cross: Moravian Piety in Colonial Bethlehem, which won two major awards, and Theology of the Czech Brethren from Hus to Comenius. He is also the author of over 50 academic articles, chapters in books, encyclopedia articles, book reviews, and church publications.  If you're considering a future in theological education, Wake Forest University's Divinity School is a top choice. My family and I are proud alumni, and we all cherish the education and experiences we gained there. With the dynamic leadership of Corey Walker as the new Dean, the future of the school is bright! If you live in Winston-Salem, you can join us LIVE at Lot 63 for a zesty podcast recording. Info here. JOIN our current class, GOD AFTER DECONSTRUCTION with Thomas Jay Oord Come to THEOLOGY BEER CAMP. Follow the podcast, drop a review, send feedback/questions or become a member of the HBC Community. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Dale Earnhardt Jr. sits down with a driver from NASCAR's past, Tennessee's own Casey Atwood. After rapidly making a name for himself in the late model stock division at Nashville Fairgrounds, Atwood made a big splash in the NASCAR Xfinity Series, becoming one of the youngest winners in history. Casey explains that while his family grew up watching racing, he would become the first driver in his lineage after convincing his father to buy him a go-kart. The father-son team would start out at the Nashville Fairgrounds before entering the World Karting Association ranks and finding championship success.Upon graduating from the karting world, Casey entered into the four-cylinder ranks at Highland Rim Speedway in Greenbrier, TN. It was there he forged a friendship with Bobby Hamilton, a relationship that would help pave his entryway into NASCAR. A successful season in late model stock competition propelled his name into the NASCAR garage, and after turning heads in 1999 by becoming the youngest winner in Xfinity Series history at the time, Casey was sure he would have a spot in the sport for many years to come. Unfortunately though, a career gamble on a new team and a year of rookie struggles in the Cup Series would leave Casey Atwood in the “what could have been” category of NASCAR's past drivers.21+ and present in NC. First online real money wager only. $10 Deposit req. Bonus issued as non-withdrawable bonus bets that expire 7 days after receipt. Restrictions apply. See full terms at fanduel.com/sportsbook. Gambling problem? Call 877-718-5543 or visit morethanagame.nc.gov To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Dale Earnhardt Jr. sits down with a driver from NASCAR's past, Tennessee's own Casey Atwood. After rapidly making a name for himself in the late model stock division at Nashville Fairgrounds, Atwood made a big splash in the NASCAR Xfinity Series, becoming one of the youngest winners in history. Casey explains that while his family grew up watching racing, he would become the first driver in his lineage after convincing his father to buy him a go-kart. The father-son team would start out at the Nashville Fairgrounds before entering the World Karting Association ranks and finding championship success. Upon graduating from the karting world, Casey entered into the four-cylinder ranks at Highland Rim Speedway in Greenbrier, TN. It was there he forged a friendship with Bobby Hamilton, a relationship that would help pave his entryway into NASCAR. A successful season in late model stock competition propelled his name into the NASCAR garage, and after turning heads in 1999 by becoming the youngest winner in Xfinity Series history at the time, Casey was sure he would have a spot in the sport for many years to come. Unfortunately though, a career gamble on a new team and a year of rookie struggles in the Cup Series would leave Casey Atwood in the “what could have been” category of NASCAR's past drivers. 21+ and present in NC. First online real money wager only. $10 Deposit req. Bonus issued as non-withdrawable bonus bets that expire 7 days after receipt. Restrictions apply. See full terms at fanduel.com/sportsbook. Gambling problem? Call 877-718-5543 or visit morethanagame.nc.gov To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices