Fallout, by Harmony Kent

Hey everyone. One of my great pleasures is to help my fellow authors with their promotions. Harmony Kent is an old friend and she’s touring her newest book around right now. Please make her feel welcome, and consider using those sharing buttons. I know Harmony would do it for you.

***

Hi, everyone. Harmony here. Many thanks to Craig for hosting me today. I have a new book on pre-order called FALLOUT, which is a post-apocalyptic dystopia. This novel started out life by playing a little game. I sat and closed my eyes and imagined an empty room … in that room, a vial appeared. A dull orange plastic thing covered in scratches. It sloshed when I shook it. From that tiny beginning, the world of Exxon 1 and its deadly virus was born.

Why is Kaleb so eager to help Priya with the vial?

Why doesn’t he just take it from her?

Why does Priya still trust Kaleb?

 

 

Emotions grew around the visual memory like mould. Unwanted and poisonous. He had been but a boy. Young and weak and ignorant. He hadn’t known the way of the world. Not back then. And still, the old feelings held him prisoner so that he could not simply walk away from the woman bleeding out on the dirt floor.

 

Pity and remorse squashed his logic into a dark corner. He had to help her. The responsibilities of his mission—what they meant for mankind—warred with his desire, his need, to help the young victim. 

 

Duty pulled his left leg toward the exit. Pity drew his right toward the woman. If he didn’t make up his mind soon, he’d end up doing the splits. With a sigh of frustrated annoyance, he squatted by the beaten body again. Only then did he notice what the rat had been chewing on. Her left little finger was missing, gnawed down to the lowest knuckle joint in a mess of bloodied flesh and gristle.

WHEN EVERYTHING FALLS APART, WHAT CAN YOU DO?

The year is 3040.

The location is Exxon 1, part of a six-planet system in settled space.

Determined to avoid the mistakes of old Earth, the surviving humans avoided democracy and opted, instead, for a non-elective totalitarian system.

The new way worked well, until now.

A crazy, despotic president releases a nano-virus on the population.

No one was ready for the fallout. It came anyway.

In this post-apocalyptic world, can you stay safe?

 

FALLOUT Pre-order Link: mybook.to/FALLOUT

 

Author Bio

After spending around thirteen years as an ordained Buddhist monk, living in a Zen Buddhist temple, and six years after a life-changing injury following a surgical error, Harmony Kent returned to the world at the tender age of forty.

Now, she is famous for her laughter, and has made quite the name for herself … she’s also, um, a writer … and fairly well known for that too. She’s even won a few awards. Harmony lives in rural Cornwall with her ever-present sense of humour, adorable husband, and quirky neighbours.

Harmony is passionate about supporting her fellow authors.

 

Links

Website: https://harmonykent.co.uk/

Story Empire (co-authored): https://storyempirecom.wordpress.com/

Amazon Author Page: author.to/HarmonysBooks

Twitter: @harmony_kent

LinkedIn: Harmony

Goodreads: Author Page

FALLOUT Pre-order Link: mybook.to/FALLOUT

 

 

 

KAYOS on #LisaBurtonRadio

Coming at you with one point twenty one jigawatts of power, this is Lisa Burton Radio. I’m your host, Lisa the robot girl. With me on the phone today is Commander Liam Joffener. “Welcome to the show, Commander.”

“I’m glad to take a few minutes out of my day to speak with you.”

“My understanding is that you’re trying to capture a criminal named Lareina Elliot. How can my broadcast help you?”

“Elliot is no less than a domestic terrorist. She is responsible for several deaths. Not the least among them being the assassination of a hospital volunteer. She has three underage hostages who are in imminent danger. And, while we do have an interstate Department of Protection manhunt underway, it is important for people not to panic. Agent Christian Deverell is our top CCSA — Crisis Containment and Suppression Architect. He is familiar with her motives as well as her cross-race involvements. It won’t be long before he flushes her out and that is where the public comes in. We need eyes and ears. Not to act, but to see, hear and let us know. She and her people have a disregard for segregation policies, which makes her stand out even as she endangers us all.”

“Hang on a second. Segregation policies? Why would segregation ever return, and who gets to decide which ones are the elite people?”

“This isn’t last century. Everyone knows proper segregation is necessary, for the good of all and the harm of none. Each of those youngsters are from a different ethnic background. They are all equally in danger. She ripped those kids out of the Excellent Program. The EP is the place where brilliance is revealed. Those young minds are the best hope this country has right now. It is their unique differences that bring us answers. By harming those children — which obviously is her ultimate plan, Lareina Elliot is fueling yet another Civil War.”

“Why would she do that? What is her purpose?”

“To repeat myself. Her purpose is to start another Civil War. She has known relations in the anti-government hate group know as the Revolutionaries who seek to undermine government rule at every turn.”

“So this guy you put on the case, Christian Deverell I think you called him, his job isn’t really to arrest Lareina and bring her in, is it?”

“Deverell is a Crisis Containment and Suppression Architect. His job is to protect our citizens by removing the threat of terrorism. What else would he do…but bring her in…to face…justice? However, if she doesn’t wish to comply, she is, a murderer. He will deal with her as such.”

“I don’t know, it just seems like a return to a status based society always leads to eliminating dissidents. Nobody wants to listen to them and try to understand. Maybe find a new solution that helps everyone.”

“The solution we have helps everyone. I don’t think you have to worry about Lareina being heard. She has been heard, with distinct clarity. An Excellence Program graduate herself, she has been a counselor at our preparatory school, The Presque Isle Academy, for five or six years, now. In fact, she and Deverell studied together and he was her liaison for the program kids with disciplinary and disruption issues. She has had every channel available to air her imagined grievances.”

“So they were a couple?”

“Elliot is black. Deverell is white. They were never romantically involved.”

“Of course they weren’t. How will being dead make her happier? I’ve been the odd one out, and don’t appreciate all the segregation talk.”

“Lareina cannot live in the world as it is today. She can’t make it into a utopia that never existed. She can’t take lives and punish innocent children as a means of making war durning this troubled time in our great nation. If it comes to death -and I didn’t say that, you did. If it comes to her death she won’t have the weight of all those victims of her actions on her head. She won’t be destroying Deverell’s reputation any longer. She won’t be destroying the lives of the children she was entrusted to guide. She won’t be exposing the Excellence Program to its enemies.”

“I kind of hope they get back together and stick it to the system.”

“Isn’t going to happen. No one beats the system. Not my system, anyway. I have another man on both of them. MaKade knows how to take care of business. You’re sounding like a dissident sympathizer. Where is this radio station of yours anyway?”

“Hhhhgggghhh, shhhhhhh, Sorry static on the line, gotta go.

“You can read all about Lareina and Christian, and all the other players in KAYOS: The Bad & The Worse, by Tracy Ball. I’ll include all the deets on the website. Now I’m off to scrub all my digital signals and make sure Commander Joffener and his jackbooted thugs can’t find me.”

***

Blurb: 

Hell has two fires— War and Women
Lareina Elliot discovered her idea for making students loyal to the government is being implemented to further the war. It has become her life’s work to undermine that effort.

Agent Christian Deverell promised to protect Lareina, always. But that was before he flipped sides, before their history got dirty, before he commissioned her adopted brother to assassinate her.

Cpl. Silas McKade never misses. He has a death warrant for Lareina—the woman who means everything to him— and a soul full of hatred for Christian—- the man he wants to be. He’s either going to break Lareina’s heart or stop it altogether.

Amazon Black Rose Press Barnes & Noble
Bio: 

Novelist, Reviewer, Content Editor, Blogger, T-shirt Wearer, and Professional Snacker; Tracy A. Ball is a native Baltimorean and a veteran West Virginian whose family is blended from three cultures. She has opened her home to foster children, drug addicts, AIDS victims and anyone who needed an assist. She has an equal number of conservative and liberal friends. She knows people who have committed murder and people who have dined with the Pope.
Which is why she writes sweet stories about tough love.

…and naps a lot.

Her other published works include:

The Right Way To Be Wrong

The Tiger & The Snake (Dangerous Love Anthology)

Civil Warriors ( 2nd edition coming soon)

Connect with Tracy on social media:

Facebook Twitter Webpage Author Services

Chasing Bedlam is available right now.

Return to the Shattered States
for a tale of love between a woman & her jeep!

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

Lloyd and Cassidy’s last adventure was to honor a life. This time they are out to end one.

It was a normal, violent mission to Texas that should have had nothing more than beer-induced hiccups. That is until an old enemy makes off with Cassidy’s jeep and most of their gear. Needless to say, she’s pissed off and challenging Lloyd for the psychopath of the month award. With the mouthy serial killer by her side, she is going on the warpath from Dallas to Miami even if it means declaring war on the drug cartels.

So strap in for another wild ride through the Shattered States and learn why you never mess with Cassidy’s jeep.

Available on Amazon for 99 cents!

Want a taste?

“So your boss thought she could send assassins to kill the Riflemen,” the black-haired leader says, earning a cheer from his men. A firm smack to the prisoner’s head silences her gurgling attempt to deny the charge. “Nothing you say can prevent the inevitable. Don’t go thinking that pet serial killer will save you either. The idiot brought a paintball gun to Texas and thought he’d win a gunfight? I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. All we need to do is find the body and we can collect the bounty on him too. Guess you’re lucky that he’s wanted dead and you’re wanted alive by that warden up north.”

“I’d be careful, boss,” a sword-wielding gang member warns. She leans away from the angry glare, but rolls up her sleeve to reveal a sloppily stitched wound. “While this one isn’t as tough as her reputation says, she can still hit hard. Lost two men before we restrained her and three more are nursing broken balls. Maybe we should use some of our tranquilizer stash and keep her sedated.”

“No reason for th-” Top Hog begins as he runs his hand across the prisoner’s forehead. He rubs his fingers at the sensation of something sticky between his fingers and looks closer to figure out what he has touched. “This scar is fake. Made from glue or something. Are you sure this is Cassidy?”

“She was with Lloyd Tenay at the bar,” a one-eyed man replies in a shaky voice. He shifts from one foot to the other when everyone else takes a step away from him. “You told us to look for him and a blonde woman. She had the denim jacket, the forehead scar, cursed a lot, carried two pistols, and even has the correct tramp stamp. Everyone was calling her Cassidy after she drove up in the blue jeep too. We made sure that everything checked out, boss. Even bribed the bartender and two waitresses.”

Sweat beading on his face, Top Hog draws his large gun and presses it to the prisoner’s temple. He leans around her, his eyes repeatedly darting toward her hands to make sure they are still bound. Lifting her white shirt, he sees the unique tattoo that the widespread stories mention Cassidy getting a little less than a year ago. The design is two pistols back to back with vines of bone curling around and binding them together. A strange discoloration catches the gang leader’s attention and he rubs his thumb along the woman’s side, pushing his weapon harder against her head to prevent wiggling. He swears that he feels a seam, so he gets a dirty fingernail beneath what turns out to be a flesh-colored sticker. Top Hog yanks it off and shows it to his men, the prisoner biting her lower lip to avoid screaming. He can already see that the tattoo is smeared from where he has touched it with his meaty fingers.

Enraged and embarrassed, the gang leader is about to kill the fake Cassidy when he hears distant rock music. Within seconds, he realizes that the source is getting closer and is soon joined by maniacal laughter coming over a crackling megaphone. With a snap of his fingers, Top Hog orders one of his men to take the prisoner to his office while the others run for the exit. Nobody gets very far before a blue jeep, which has been outfitted with a wide battering ram, smashes through the front of the warehouse. The vehicle leaves a gaping hole in the wall, which is made worse by hooked chains on the rear bumper that catch and tear more of the obstacle down. The jeep continues at full speed through crates, shelving units, and the slower gang members whose deaths are celebrated by honks of the horn. Tires screech as the driver hits the brakes and gets the car to spin, the move appearing to have no purpose beyond making those inside dizzy. With an embarrassing thud, the vehicle hits the back wall and hisses to a stop.

The gang have already drawn their weapons and are cautiously approaching the jeep when the sunroof opens. Bullets fly at the blonde figure that leaps out, the projectiles creating so many holes that the top half of their target falls off. The legs of the cardboard cutout are casually tossed to the floor before the shriek of a megaphone makes everyone cringe and cover their ears. With the tattered remains laying face up, the frustrated criminals realize that they have destroyed another Cassidy decoy. They are about to inch closer when the jeep briefly roars to life and a man inside begins making engine noises. The sounds change to the exaggerated screams and detailed begging of those whose parts are still stuck to the scuffed battering ram.

“So that was your plan, Cassidy?” Top Hog asks with a chuckle. He turns to see their prisoner is trying to roll away and fires his gun into the air to stop her. “Two decoys, so that you could get the drop on us. Guess you thought more of us would get run over. You still have thirteen of my crew standing and you’re cornered in that jeep. Now, the only question is if I send a piece of you back to the Duchess as a message that she should stay out of my business. Damn northerner needs to stay out of Texas’s business.”

“Actually, that young woman was the bait and I was the distraction,” Lloyd announces from inside. With a gleeful laugh, he opens one of the doors and yanks it back when the gang shoots at him. “Well shit. That was my favorite power window button. Anyway, people make that mistake all the time. You see, bait draws you in and, at least here, allows the real predators to follow you back to the previously hidden hideout. Not even a sign to help us out, which is very rude and unaccommodating. Now, the distraction’s job is to keep you looking in one direction while a mischievous maiden of mayhem prepares her new toy somewhere else. Don’t bother running, boys, because she’ll take that as an insult.”

Top Hog and his men turn toward the hole in the wall, which has exposed them to the large parking lot. The sun forces them to squint at the lone figure standing behind a loaded mini-gun, the weapon glinting in the midday light. Clouds move across the sky, which makes it easier for the gang to identify the denim jacket and blonde hair of their enemy. They take a few shots at the distant woman, but their bullets either miss completely or bounce off several riot shields that are strapped to the weapon. A slamming car door causes them to jump, but they turn in the wrong direction and are unable to stop Lloyd from racing toward the prisoner. Wearing orange pants from his time as a prisoner and a red shirt with a lightning bolt, the black-haired serial killer seems like an obvious target as he scoops up the young woman and dives behind a box of grenades. Suddenly afraid for their lives, Top Hog and his men attempt to scatter and hunt for cover.

“I hate moving targets,” Cassidy growls.

And don’t forget how it all started in
CROSSING BEDLAM!
Also on sale for 99 cents!

About the Author:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Blog: www.legendsofwindemere.com
Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Visit the City of Hope and Ruin, on Lisa Burton Radio

 

Don't touch that dial! You've found Lisa Burton Radio, the show where characters come alive. My guest today is Briony, and she's a healer from the land of Aelduende. She has a problem, in that she wants her family to move away from a war torn border.

I'm your host Lisa the robot girl. Today's show is sponsored by the CITY OF HOPE AND RUIN, by Kit Campbell and Siri Paulson. Be sure to check out this wonderful book, and help me keep the lights on around here.

“Welcome to the show Briony.”

“Hello? I can hear you, but not see you. Are you a spirit?”

“I'm an Artificial Intelligence, here to interview you about being a healer. It must be hard, being a non-magical healer in a world that has magic. What can you tell us about that? Do you have to compete with magical healers?”

“Sure, my partner Kishan is a magical healer. He’s great, don’t get me wrong, but everyone seems to think he does all the work. I can spend several minutes binding up a broken bone, and all he does is wave his hands and declare that nothing else is broken, and you’d think it was the most spectacular thing ever performed, the way some people act.

“I think that’s why he thinks he knows everything. Which can be annoying, let me tell you, because it takes forever to get something into his head if he disagrees with you. For example, we have refugees coming from the border every day, telling stories about the atrocities of the Scarred. But he swears we’re safe here and thinks I’m overreacting to try and get my family away. I can’t understand it. He knows the stories from the War as well as I do.”

“I understand, but this war happened five-hundred years ago. My country fought a couple of wars with people who are now our best friends, and that was only two-hundred years ago. What keeps the contention so high?”

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? We never recovered from the last war. We may have driven the Scarred off eventually, but the Old Ones left us with Fractures—plants and animals that look normal to lure you in—and they made the Scarred what they are today. Something worse, something…less human. They went back to their own country, and sealed off contact with the rest of the world. Who knows what they’ve been doing in that time? Nothing good, if the stories from the border are to be believed. And I’ve treated the wounds on those people. I believe.”

“These Fractures Sound like bad news. How can somebody make cute animals into something evil? No wonder you want to move away. Where would you move?”

“I think it would be safest to go to the capital, Cynestel. The army and the Academy are there, and if they can’t protect us, well. If it was just me and Kishan, maybe I’d try staying. But it’s my brother and his family. Four children, no mother. The thought of something happening to them—but Jael’s stubborn. That probably runs in the family. He says we’ve got to stay where we are. So I think—I think if I can show him that it’d be better for us to move, he’d finally do it. He’s like Kishan, doesn’t take the Scarred seriously…or at least, that’s what he says. His eyes say something different.

“So I’m trying to get into the Academy. They teach magic. It’s hard to get into, but I think if I can get accepted, somehow, it’ll be enough to get Jael to move the family. Nothing’s been working, though.”

“That sounds rough. What will you do if that doesn’t work?”

“I’m…I’m not sure. There’s…well. The Old Ones disappeared during the War. Abandoned us, really. They were supposed to save us from the Scarred, not make them worse. But they had a lot of knowledge we don’t have any more. I suppose, maybe, that if I never find any magic, then maybe I’d be able to find something left over from them, something that would help. But still—would they have abandoned us if they could deal with the Scarred? And that was so long ago. No. I need magic. It’s really the only way. I have to make it work. Though I’m down to—wait. Did you say you were a spirit?”

“Um, yes, I am a spirit. If you can communicate with spirits, you must have some magical ability. Make sure you tell them that on the application. Thanks for visiting with us today, and good luck moving to the capital.”

***

Multi-region Amazon

American Amazon

iBookstore

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Kit: It is a little known fact that Kit was raised in the wild by a marauding gang of octopuses. It wasn't until she was 25 that she was discovered by a traveling National Geographic scientist and brought back to civilization. This is sometimes apparent in the way that she attempts to escape through tubes when startled.

Her transition to normalcy has been slow, but scientists predict that she will have mastered basics such as fork use sometime in the next year. More complex skills, such as proper grocery store etiquette, may be forever outside her reach.

Kit can be found cavorting about the web at her blog or website, on Pinterest, and even occasionally on Twitter.

Siri: Siri Paulson writes all over the fantasy and science fiction spectrum, including (so far) secondary-world fantasy, urban fantasy, steampunk, Gothic, historical paranormal, and YA with spaceships. She is also the chief editor at Turtleduck Press. Siri grew up in Alberta, Canada, but now lives in an old house in Toronto. By day, she edits non-fiction for the government. Her other current passion is contra dance, a social/folk dance done to live Celtic and roots music. Her favourite places in the world are the Canadian Rocky Mountains and a little valley in Norway.

Siri's short fiction and the anthologies she has edited can be found on Turtleduck Press. She blogs and tweets.

Crossing Bedlam

I’ve already downloaded my copy, and can’t wait to read this one, Craig.

The Rated-R Post-Apocalyptic Action Comedy Adventure is finally here!

Cover Art by Jon Hunsinger

The United States of America has been crippled. Violently contained by a global military force and left without its leaders, the country has become shattered and chaotic. A decade has passed since the first strike and a new landscape has emerged where survival is more important than anything else. Who will uncover the truth behind the attack and revive this once great nation?

It certainly won’t be Cassidy and Lloyd since they couldn’t care less about that stuff. She is a young woman on a mission to honor her mother’s dying wish, which is to toss her ashes off the Golden Gate Bridge. He is an infamous serial killer she broke out of Rikers Island since hiring a bodyguard wasn’t working out. Not the perfect plan, but having an insane, oddly charming murder-junkie on your side is a plus in the Shattered States.

Bullets and swear words are going to fly as Cassidy and Lloyd travel coast to coast, facing one challenge after another . . . including Nebraska.

Curious about this broken world & these two ‘not even close to being heroes’?

Then grab a copy for $2.99 on Amazon
&
Mark it as ‘To Read’ on Goodreads

Excerpt: A Relaxing Drive on the Parkway (Foul Language Warning)

The jeep hurtles through a large hole in the parkway divider, the threat of incoming traffic nothing more than a faded memory. Only three of their pursuers manage to follow with a fourth smashing into the gap and blocking the path. Not wanting to be an easy target, Cassidy keeps their vehicle swerving from one lane to another. She can hear bullets pinging off the asphalt and the abandoned cars that have been moved to the side of the road. There is another hole in the divider right before an overpass, so she drives through at the last second. Sliding into the tunnel, Cassidy watches the other vehicles pass the gap before making a tire-screeching U-turn to go in the opposite direction. Five motorcycles are heading toward them, but the heavy jeep and its driver’s refusal to get out of the way makes them an easily scattered threat. One of the bikers is unable to swerve to the side and he crashes onto the hood while his ride is sent spinning into an abandoned van.

“Get off my car!” Cassidy shouts as she reaches out the window. Grabbing the man by the ankle, she yanks him off the hood and lets him tumble into the concrete divider. “This is really going to cost me. Do you know what the penalty for your idiocy is? They kill you unless you escape to the mainland. Then you’re exiled until you find something that the Trade Barons want more than revenge. I don’t have time to go on a treasure hunt. Would you take off those sunglasses and stop humming car chase music?”

“I was only trying to complete the scene,” Lloyd argues as he calmly fires a pellet at a sedan driver. Having mixed the three types of ammo, he is happy to see a yellow orb burst on the woman’s mouth. “There’s the scratching. Now the nausea. We have a spinning and flipping car, folks. Oh, and there goes either the guy in the passenger seat or a really big ragdoll. You know, I’m starting to like what all of you have done with the place.”

“Stop killing people!” the blonde shouts, veering away from a large truck. She narrowly avoids slamming into a small car, the jeep moving off the road to complete the turn. “The more bodies we leave, the harder it will be to regain the Trade Barons’ favor. At least Neddy will send us what we need and . . . this is not the fucking time to change clothes!”

Lloyd stops with his head peeking out of his blood-covered shirt, which is high enough to reveal his scarred stomach. Figuring that he has come too far to stop, he yanks off the garment and hurls it out the window. He pouts when it flies over a car instead of covering the driver’s side of the windshield and causing a crash. Blindly reaching back, he takes a random shirt out of his bags and examines the black top in the side view mirror. The red and black mask of an old comic book character stares back at him, the face giving the illusion of grinning beneath the fabric.

“I remember reading this guy’s series before the Internet made him so popular and he turned up everywhere. Ugh, that sounded so pretentious that I’m tempted to stab myself. Hey, can we still see movies because I want to see his?” Lloyd asks while tying the laces of the black sneakers he hastily put on before making a mess at the Coliseum. “I really like t-shirts with pictures on them. They bring attention to what I’m wearing instead of my face. You can start a conversation about them too. Nice way to meet people and find out if they’re worth leaving alive or not. For example, I have a shirt with another hero and if somebody tells me that the bastard can defeat every other character then I know they have to die. I mean, he’s nothing more than a child-endangering bill-”

“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!”

“Don’t be angry, kid. You’re doing great.”

“I can’t even figure out if we’re going in the right direction.”

“Turn around and start shooting at their tires.”

“I can’t because I need to save bullets.”

“For what?”

“Nebraska!”

About the Author:

Charles Yallowitz was born and raised on Long Island, NY, but he has spent most of his life wandering his own imagination in a blissful haze. Occasionally, he would return from this world for the necessities such as food, showers, and Saturday morning cartoons. One day he returned from his imagination and decided he would share his stories with the world. After his wife decided that she was tired of hearing the same stories repeatedly, she convinced him that it would make more sense to follow his dream of being a fantasy author. So, locked within the house under orders to shut up and get to work, Charles brings you Legends of Windemere. He looks forward to sharing all of his stories with you, and his wife is happy he finally has someone else to play with.

Twitter: @cyallowitz
Facebook: Charles Yallowitz
Website: www.charleseyallowitz.com

Want the same level of action with a lot of magic & no cursing?

Cover Art by Jason Pedersen
3D Conversion by Bestt_graphics

Click here for the $4.99 Bundle to start your journey into Windemere!