Sunday, September 30, 2018

Schedule for October 1 - 5, 2018

Mon., Oct. 1 - Monday Morning Ramblings
by Carol Ann Kauffman

Wed., Oct. 3 - INTERVIEW: J.S. Burke
Science Fantasy Adventure Writer

Thurs., Oct. 4 - ART: I Love Stephen Morath
New Sunsets and Sunrises 
from the King of thSouthwest

Fri., Oct. 5 - BOOK: 
Through the Darkness, Stories of Hope
A Woman Named Hope by Carol Ann Kauffman

Thursday, September 27, 2018

BOOK: March Blues, A Cat Collier Mystery by Carol Ann Kauffman

Small-town red-head Cat Collier runs an private investigation service called Red Cat Investigation out of her office in the beautiful Palazzo Castellano with the help of her secretary, Nola White, an ex-client Cat took in because she had nowhere else to go, her boyfriend, Erick “Carter” Larsen, and Carter’s father, the wealthy, influential, and shady lawyer, Detrick Bittmor.

In this third installment of the Cat Collier Mystery series, after escaping from captivity in an abandoned train car, Cat stumbles upon a homeless man at the long deserted train station, who helps her get home to Carter. Detrick discovers he knows this homeless man as the one-time legendary saxophone player who played in the downstairs bar when they were both young and the family embarks on rehabilitating the sax player and reopening the bar, “The Blues.”


March Blues
A Cat Collier Mystery
By Carol Ann Kauffman

My name is Cat Collier. I run a research service called Red Cat Investigation. I have an office in Palazzo Castellano, the gorgeous Gothic architectural masterpiece in the center of Heaton Valley, Ohio. My office adjoins the office of Attorney Erick Carter Larsen, my incredibly sweet, handsome boyfriend. His newly found millionaire father is bankrolling us. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.
Mostly I do online research for private citizens of Heaton Valley. Now, you might not believe this, but privacy is a thing of the past. Death certificates, birth certificates, and real estate appraisals are all public record.  Credit scores, bank account balances, and employment records are a little harder, but not much. Social media is a treasure trove of free and easily accessible information about relationships, new babies, new jobs, and current location.  Friends of mutual friends can yield a ton of sought-after data. With an Internet connection, a little luck, and minimal hacking skills, I can find out almost anything without leaving the comfort and safety of my lovely new office.  
Mostly. But sometimes I have to do a more physical kind of investigating.

“Hey, Nola,” I phoned my secretary, “I’m tailing the same white unmarked full-size Chevy van that picked up Lark Fairpoint, Case #7, three hours ago at the corner of Sinclair Street and Fifth Avenue.  2013 Express model, Ohio license plate number M 1538 C,” I said as I whizzed down Route 169. It felt good having someone I could check in with, someone who would know what I’ve been up to and my last known location. I found the private investigation business attracted some pretty shady characters.
“Okay, got it,” said Nola. “Do you need back-up?”
“No. I don’t see anything suspicious. They stopped at McDonald’s drive through, then went to Dunkin’ Donuts. Lark may simply be on a mindless eating binge or skipping school to hang out with her friends at the mall. That seems to be where they’re heading now. Did you ever do that as a kid?”
“Me? No. My mother would have killed me, revived me, and killed me again. Did you?”
“No. I liked school. What are you doing?
“I’m supervising Detrick while he does his leg strengthening exercises,” answered Nola.
“Hello, Cat,” yelled Detrick in the background.
“And he’s doing very well,” added Nola. “And Carter’s making ham and scalloped potatoes. The aroma coming from the kitchen is making us crazy, so don’t be late for lunch.”
“I won’t. See you soon.”

The van stopped abruptly and four people dressed in black wearing ski masks jumped out of the van and ran into The Big Cheese Pizza Shop on Route 169. 
Crap! My sweet little schoolgirl is robbing a pizza shop. I tapped some numbers into my cell phone.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Don’t you have someone else to bother? You won’t be happy until you get my ass fired. I’m already in enough trouble over you, Cat. What the hell do you want from me this time?” shouted Officer Kiernan Scott of the Heaton Valley Police Department.
I hung up. Scotty’s verbal barrage snapped me back to reality. Marina Fairpoint hired me to find out why her normally happy, pleasant, smart teenage daughter had suddenly become distant and moody with plummeting grades, not get her arrested and ruin her chances of ever becoming the president of the United States.
I snapped some photos as the foursome ran back to the van. I noticed all four were tall, husky body types, not petite like Lark. The van roared down the street, turned down a side street, and pulled into a driveway. I passed the driveway just as the garage door came down. I snapped more photos.
I hung around at the Burger King on the corner, where I had a clean sight of the driveway while I read about the latest innovations in water treatment facilities in Denmark. Two hours and four cups of coffee later, the white van slowly backed out of the driveway and made its way to the mall while I followed a few car lengths behind.
The driver parked the van near the main concourse door and seven people got out, four big, husky boys and three girls. I spotted Lark holding hands with one of the boys as they entered the mall.
I checked my watch. One thirty. Wow, this little girl had an exciting day. Start off at McDonald’s, then have a doughnut, be implicated in a pizza shop heist, and go to the mall.
I drove my falling apart 2009 red Chevy Cruze back to the Palazzo Castellano Hotel, parked in the private underground parking facility, and rode the elevator up to my office on the eighth floor. My secretary was nowhere to be found. I typed up a few notes on the events of the day. I cropped and balanced the light and color in the photos I took at the crime scene on my phone, while still keeping the originals in case I needed to check them for detail. 
Now what?
Time for ham and scalloped potatoes, I guess.

Amazon Buy Link:

    A review:
July 28 by V. R.
Format: Kindle Edition

Wednesday, September 26, 2018

BOOK: Dead To Writes by Author Karen Vaughan

Laura Fritz is back along with the characters I have come to love from this author's other books in the series. This time, Laura meets a couple of authors.Natalie, Silvie and Terri were close friends and struggling to be authors. When tow of the women die mysteriously, Laura gets involved and the adventure to solve a mystery begins. Karen Vaughan writes no-frills stories with amazing and believable characters. Grabbing a book by this author is like sitting down with an old friend and having a chat. Here novels are twisted mysteries with a cozy appeal and not to be missed!

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

ART: Abbott Fuller Graves

 Abbott Fuller Graves 

Abbott Fuller Graves was an American illustrator and painter who was famous for his paintings of open air garden scenes and floral still life work.

His paintings show the influence of European impressionism by the use of thick, bold brushstrokes, vivid colors, and natural light.

Abbott Fuller Graves was born in Weymouth, Massachusetts on April 15, 1859. He had hopes of becoming an architect and attended the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, but he did not graduate.

In 1884 he went to Paris, Frances to refine his skills as a flower painter. He spent times in Italy working with other artists on floral still life painting.

In 1885 he returned to the United States and took a position teaching art at the Cowles Art School in Boston, MA.

He returned to Paris in 1887, this time to study figure painting at the Academy Julian. He worked closely with instructors Paul Gervalis, Fernand Corman, and Jean-Paul Laurens.

Upon returning to the United States, he bought a house in Kennebunkport, Maine, where he taught classes in oil painting and watercolors. He painted coastal life in New England, as well as floral scenes. 

Abbott Fuller Graves died in
1936 in Kennebunkport.

Once again, I claim nothing here as my mine.  Please check out more information about the talented Mr. Graves on the worldwide web.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

September 24 - 28, 2018

Tues., Sept. 25 - ART:
Abbott Fuller Graves

Wed., Sept. 26 -  BOOK:
Dead To Writes by Karen Vaughn

Fri., Sept. 27 - BOOK:
March Blues by Carol Ann Kauffman
A Cat Collier Mystery Short Story

Friday, September 21, 2018

BOOK: MacKalvey House by Carol Ann Kauffman

MacKalvey House

by Carol Ann Kauffman

Young American Michelle Rosemont visits England after college graduation and decides to stay. She takes a job as photographer for a historical magazine and falls in love with the extremely unpopular Kenneth MacKalvey, an older British author with a shady past. 

Old families scars resurface and play havoc with Michelle and Kenneth's relationship, as she struggles to come to terms with her father's abandonment and unforeseen family issues, as well as a ruthless redhead.

Dear Gentle Readers,
If you read Echo of Heartbreak, A Recipe for Life, then I think you will enjoy this one, too. It is not a sequel. In. fact, Echo of Heartbreak was a prequel.
In preparing to write this book, I needed a clear picture in my mind of Michelle's mother, Melina Valentina Rosemont, because she is paramount to the formation of Michelle's persona. Her fears, strengths, and personality are strongly tied to her mother.
In the end, I had so much information on Melina, I thought she deserved her own little book, with recipes, tips on housekeeping and wardrobe planning, and insights on life. So, Echo of Heartbreak, A Recipe for Life came into being.

Amazon Buy Link:
Echo of Heartbreak 

What others say about MacKalvey House:
Amazon Buy Link:
MacKalvey House


Kenneth MacKalvey is a wealthy man. He inherited the family business, he has written many books, he is an artist and owns a art gallery. But most of all, he is known for his rude, bad mouth, nasty self. His reputation on a scale of 1-10, is a 0.
Michelle Rosemount has only been in England for a short time. With a degree in Early Childhood Education, she left the states to start a new life. Working as a photographer for a historical magazine, she loves taking pictures of the manors, castles and ruins.
Michelle has read every book Mr. MacKalvey has written. She feels like she knows him , really knows him. She wants to be with him in every way possible. She deep down loves him. Kenneth heard her voice for the first time and knew that they belonged together and always have and always will. He is drawn to her.
Carol Ann Kauffman puts together the perfect English gentleman meets the beautiful American, but what she doesn't do is make it sappy. She shows how a true drawl to a connection can be, that opposites do attract. Come on you two, get it together!
The love story of Kenneth and Michelle isn't much different then most, on again, off again. But theirs has an evil red head to come between them and make matters way worse then expected. This red head relishes in all of it. All she wants is his name, money, house and children. Will she get any of it?
At one point when Michelle is swearing Kenneth off and needs a break from life, she heads to Italy with her best friend and aunt. She is enjoying the beautiful land around her, until there is a man set up for her. She gets very drunk, insults everybody and runs to the olive trees. This man follows and well. lets say they see the olive trees in a different way. This man stays in her life as a very good friend. He helps her start her own business and helps her to forget Kenneth by having her live with him, far away from Kenneth.
Who does Michelle end up with in the end? Well the ending was a huge surprise! I never saw that coming at all. Carol did a good job with subtitle hints along the way that I didn't see until after I read the ending. Another fantastic story in the Time After Time Series! This series is a must read!





Thursday, September 20, 2018

ART: The Belgian Artist Fernand Touissant

 The Belgian artist for Fernand Toussaint was  born in 1873 to a cultured, upper-middle class family in Brussels.

His artist talent was recognized at an early age and cultivated by his family He was encouraged by his parents to develop his skills.

He began studying art with the famous Jean Francois Portaels, and attending the Academie Royale des Beaux-Arts at the age of fifteen.

At the age of 18, he left home to study in Paris, France, where he studied with many famous artists. 

He made a living as a landscape painter and worked making commercial posters for official events and celebrations.

But his passion was female portraits, both oils and watercolors. He presented the female form in a rich and elegant manner. 

He was commissioned by the wealthy families to paint portraits of the women of the family dressed in expensive clothes in the latest of fashion. The gazes of these women are honest, barely provocative and dreamy.

He is famous for his post-impression paintings of women. Commercial posters of his work were in high demand at the turn of the twentieth century. 

He died in 1956 in the Brussels suburb of Elsene.

Belgium won its independence from The Netherlands in 1830 and 1831, but its artistic links to that country and France remained strong. However, between 1890 and the First World War Belgium showed a rich blossoming of artistic talent that was distinctly its own. While Toussaint, as other young student painters, accepted a solid grounding in the traditional academic techniques, he, as his fellow students, was encouraged to move away from a limited or narrow understanding and use of those techniques. Toussaint’s brushwork in A Portrait shows this independence as well as the role the use of color played in his training. Toussaint has rendered this work in loose, skillful brush strokes creating wonderful color harmonies that convey an intimate mood. He was a careful handler of flesh tints and costume and drapery. The face posse’s wonderful naturalness. The influence of Alfred Stevens, the Belgium portrait painter, is seen in the quiet charm, depth, and sensitivity Toussaint has brought to the portrait of this lovely woman. Her gaze is clear and open and suggests a person who enjoys the company of others. 

Friday, September 14, 2018

BOOK: The Baslicato by Carol Ann Kauffman

When Dr. Brook Wilson agreed to take on celebrity Italian race car driver Jason Maxwell, known as"The Baslicato," as her patient, little did she realize their relationship would turn her calm, pleasant, well-ordered, on-track life upside down, sending her on dangerous adventures in southern Italy, Utah, and northern Ohio. 

As she prepares him for his big race, she must deal with his demented wife while driving her boyfriend, Dr, Garrett MacEgan into acts of criminal desperation in a attempt to hold on to her.

When tall, handsome British actor Richard MacKenzie wakes up in the hospital after an accident, he discovers he's a short Italian race car driver named Jason Maxwell, known as THE BASLICATO. And someone is trying to kill him.



“Brook, would you look in on Thad Maxwell’s wild, crazy, daredevil kid? Thad has done so much for us. I really can’t refuse him my best doctor, now can I? And I know how much you love to patch up the soldiers of the world and send them right back into battle.”
“Of course, Garrett,” she laughed. “I never turn down a head injury. I just love a man with brain fog. Let me at him! I was done with my rounds anyway, so I’ll take a look at him now.”
“Here is his file,” said Garrett. 
“Meet you in your office as soon as I’m done,” she said. “Think swaying palm trees, sweetie. Oh, did I tell you about the little red bikini I bought for our trip? Hmm?”
“Oh, you’re evil. Hurry up. I can barely contain myself.”

Brook walked down the hall to her new patient’s room. Okay, just this one more patient, and then she’d be off on that well-deserved, long overdue, one-month long vacation, thought Dr. Brook Nicole Wilson, humming and thinking of sunshine, turquoise blue water, and that slight island breeze, steel-drum music, palm trees, and a soft, sandy beach. She looked at the file in her hand and put her hand on the doorknob of Private Room 517.

Nicole! Nicole! I need you!

The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She got the shivers and a flutter in her stomach. Damn, she hoped she wasn’t coming down with something right before her long-awaited vacation. She’d been planning it for over a year now. She looked at the file, stamped Privacy, Mr. John Johnson. Written on the inside flap was ‘Jason Maxwell, head injury, amnesia, internationally known Italian race car driver, kidnap victim, son of Thaddeus Maxwell.’

“Dr. Wilson,” said Dr. Joe Mathews, “I thought you were done.”
“I was, but Dr. MacEgan asked me to look in on Mr. Johnson here.”
“Do you want me to take him, so you can start your vacation right now?”
“Oh, that’s a very tempting offer, but no, thanks, Dr. Mathews.  I’m familiar with his type of head injury. It’ll only take a few minutes. Then we’ll be off for one long awaited vacation.”
“And where are West Memorial’s Dynamic Duo Doctor Pair going?”
“Bermuda,” laughed Brook. “Dynamic Duo. Batman? Oh, no, Joe, he thinks of himself more along the line of Superman than Batman.”
“No, Brook, you’re being far too kind. He thinks of himself as the Almighty Brain God. But we love him and do whatever the Great One wishes.”
“Well, ‘the Brain God’ reserved a room with no phones, no machines, no monitors, no pagers, no electronics of any kind. Garrett even asked for a room with no television or radio and he’s bringing his wind-up clock. Joe, I can’t wait. We’re both so exhausted. Maybe this vacation is what he needs to bring him back down to earth and be happy to just be a human being again. He puts himself under such huge pressure. He never rests. And we both know what a fantastic job he does day in and day out, and he has never lost a patient. I’ll do all I can to help him to relax and feel merely mortal again.”
“You need this vacation as much as he does, so relax and have some fun. Do you remember what that is?”
“Fun? No. All I want is beach and sand and warm water, and Garrett, of course, and one of those drinks with the little umbrella in it. Maybe two. Okay, three.”
“Have a great trip, Brook. You two deserve it. Come home with a whole collection of those little umbrellas, okay? I’ll do my best to keep the place running while you two are gone.”
“Thank you, Joe. And don’t worry. You’ll do a great job.”
“That’s only because The Great One has this place running on automatic.” They both laughed and nodded.
She opened the door to find her patient resting. She closed the door and approached the bed. His eyes were closed.

“Mr. Maxwell? Mr. Maxwell, I’m Dr. Wilson. I’m a neurologist. Your father called me in as your specialist.” He stirred. He opened his eyes and gave her the most beautiful smile she had ever seen in her life. It was heart stopping. And those eyes! And just where have YOU been all my life, she thought to herself, surprised by her own reaction to him.
“Hello, my love, I am so glad you’re here. I’ve been calling you. Did you hear me?” He reached for her and pulling up toward her, hugged her middle tightly, burying his head in her breasts, and leaving her momentarily stunned. 
“Oh, my head hurts. Nothing makes any sense. What happened to me, do you know? Did they tell you anything? They won’t tell me a damn thing. They just tell me to rest,” he said. 
She hugged him back just enough to hit the button on the other side of his bed. Her two assistants came in and pulled him off of her.
“Nicole, love, what’s the matter? What’s wrong?”
“Mr. Maxwell, listen to me carefully. I am afraid you have me confused with someone else. I am your new doctor, Dr. Brook Wilson. Now, are you going behave and keep your hands to yourself or do I need to restrain you?” 
He looked at her and blinked. He became very agitated.
“Nicole? Keep my hands to my… What’s the meaning of this? You know me! You know who I am. Richard. Richard MacKenzie, your husband, not some… Mr. Maxwell. And you are my wife, Nicole,” he said unwaveringly. He paused and thought a moment and began to doubt himself. “Oh, what’s the matter with me? Nicole, why don’t you know me? My God, will this bloody nightmare never end?” He held his head with both hands, visibly shaken. She very gently injected him with something to calm him down, to make him sleep a little, and give her some time to figure out what was going on here. She didn’t let him see the needle. Somehow, she knew he hated needles. She noticed he was dehydrated. What had happened to him? What had they done to him? She checked his chart. He didn’t come in through the regular emergency room route and he had not been given any kind of preliminary examination. And she wanted a thorough one.
“Where are his personal belongings?” 
She was handed a bag. Inside were a bloody long sleeved white shirt, good quality, and a pair of jeans.

“This is it? This poor man has experienced more trauma than a bump on his head. Take off his jogging suit. Dell, record my observations for Dr. MacEgan.

Thursday, September 13, 2018

Silver Species by Texas Collage Artist Parker Kaufman

In this long forgotten work from 2010-2011 from the talented Texas collage artist Parker Kaufman, this imaginative art piece is a culmination of Parker's love of sci-fi and surrealism. 

It is a complication of cardstock and computer crafted images. It measures 5.5" x 8.5". Parker has not titled this piece, but it reminds me of Doctor Who, so I call it Silver Species. 

What do you think?

Sunday, September 9, 2018

September 10 -14. 2018

Wed., Sept. 12 - BOOK:
Demons and Thieves by Brae Wyckoff

Thurs., Sept. 13 - ART:
Silver Species by Texas Collage Artist
Parker Kaufman

Fri.,. Sept. 14 - BOOK:
The Baslicato by Carol Ann Kauffman

Friday, September 7, 2018

BOOK: Blue Lake by Carol Ann Kauffman

When British actor Richard MacKenzie entered the diner, all he expected to find was a cup of hot tea. Not his soulmate, the love of his life, the woman who had been wrenched from his arms so long ago in another lifetime. He knew her immediately. But would she recognize him?

While finishing up some business paperback after lunch in the local diner, Nicole, a widow from Ohio, felt someone watching her. When she looked up, she saw him. Him. 

When Nicole decided to step back into life in beautiful Albuquerque, New Mexico with Richard, a young handsome British actor who professed his undying love for her on a daily basis, she mistook his devotion for little more than youthful enthusiasm. 

She had no idea where their relationship would take her physically or emotionally. She would find herself in many dazzling international locations, putting her own life on hold, simply to be with him. She had no concept how strong her commitment to him would grow and to what extent she would go to protect him and ensure his safety and wellbeing.

And she certainly had no idea the depth of his devotion to her, an unlikely but undeniable love that would span continents and a decade of their lives, entwining them closer and closer, while their careers, families, and other relationships pulled them farther and farther apart. 

“This series of novels is different than anything else out there. Set in exotic and in some cases unusual settings, these characters are thrown together by random chance...or is it?

An intriguing turn of events can change the whole dynamic of a relationship. The destination is certainly worth the journey these novels take you through.”
-Amazon review of Time After Time series


After a grueling day on location, with stunts, dust, and heat, Richard showered and dressed at the studio, picked up the bouquet of pink sweetheart roses he had delivered to the studio lobby and, humming, headed over to Nicole’s hotel with papers in his inside pocket, papers that he hoped would make her happy. And that would make him happy, no, actually, happier, because he was happy just to be with her.
Nicole was packing when Richard came in.
“What’s all this? Where are you going?” said Richard as he threw the flowers aside and rushed to her.
“Back to Ohio. The house is sold. Are those for me?” eyeing the beautiful small pink roses. “Or is it a late apology to the maid for Happy Couch II?”
He picked up the flowers, gave them a little shake, and presented them to her.
“For you, My Love.” Nicole looked at him and softened.
“Oh, Richard, they’re lovely! They’re my favorite flower.”
“I know.” Richard said with a smile and wrapped her in his arms.
“They’re really hard to get here.”
“I know.” He squeezed her and kissed her neck.
“You are really incredibly sweet. Do you know that?”
“I know,” he said softly, shyly.
She giggled and he nuzzled up against her as he inhaled the delicious scent of her perfume, Bulgari. He was lost in her. Moments passed.
“I have a surprise for you. Come on. Let’s go.”
They drove off in a loaner car from the studio. The restaurant was crowded, but they were seated immediately. After ordering, Richard took her hand and took in a deep breath.
“Now for the surprise.” He produced the papers from his pocket and slid them across the table to Nicole.
“Ah, you brought me papers to fill out for you, insurance forms from the studio again?” Nicole unfolded them and began to read. 
“Richard, what is this?
“Keep reading, Love.”
“You bought the house? You are the mystery man who outbid us all? Richard, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure how high he would go. I wasn’t sure I would get it. My money is in London and it’s in the pound, not the dollar. I wanted you to have this house. If I told you what I was doing and I didn’t get it, you would be even more disappointed, and I couldn’t bear that. Aren’t you happy? You have the house.”
“No, Richard. You have the house. I hope you’ll be very happy there. I’m going back to Ohio.” Nicole left the table and headed outside.
Richard followed her out. 
“Ohio? What’s in Ohio?”
“Exactly!” responded Nicole, as she walked toward a taxi. Richard ran after her.
“Nicole, slow down, let me take you home, or let’s go back in and have some dinner, and let me explain. I did it for you. I bought the house for you, Love. Come on, Nicole, please, just let me explain!”
She stopped. They returned to their table and Richard slid in next to her instead of across, so she couldn’t run off again. He put his arm around her. 
 “Okay,” whispered Nicole, “explain.”
“I called Teresa and told her I’d do anything to outbid this bloke who made you sad. And if she could facilitate it in any way, I would appreciate it. She suggested a cash transaction would speed things up, and leave the old bloke in the dust because his cash was tied up in the Mideast. So, she ran the papers over to me at the studio, I signed them, and gave her my banker’s number to set up the wire transfer. I wanted the deed in your name only, but Teresa said that would make you responsible for taxes, insurance, and so forth. That is why the deed is in both our names. I was only trying to make you happy.”
“Let me get this straight. We’ve known each other for a little over a month and you bought me a house. Not just any house, but a fantastic house. My dream house. Cash. Without discussing it with me. Just to make me happy.”
“Yes. That’s the long and short of it. “
“Are you crazy?”
“Nicole, be serious. The house is perfect for you. You love the house. I love you. You couldn’t counteroffer. I stepped in. To make you happy.”
Silence. He hung his head. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t happy with him. He ate, not because he was hungry, but to crunch away the silence. Salad done, he glanced toward her to see, of all things, a faint smile.
“You’re not angry with me?”
“Oh, yes, I am,” she said softly. “You should’ve told me. And just because I couldn’t make a counteroffer, that doesn’t mean you need to assume the whole expense. I’ll write you a check when we get home. I don’t like surprises, really, shocks in this case. But, Richard, that was an incredibly sweet and generous thing for you to do.”
“In that case, in the spirit of full disclosure, I need to tell you something else, Love. We move in tomorrow.”
She let out a scream and hugged him, kissed him, crying, laughing, sniffling, and in shock. Richard smiled. Mission accomplished.