An Regular Post with Multiple Embedded Reviews

Richard McCallister looked at the stripy piano in his hands and felt fuzzy. He walked over to the window and reflected on his creepy surroundings. He had always loved crowded West Boggins with its pretty, pongy parks. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel fuzzy.

Mildred, Let’s Get Married – Fool Moon

Fool Moon
Genre:
Publisher:
Published: 1/9/2001
Format: Mass Market Paperback
ISBN: 0451458125
Harry Dresden--Wizard Lost Items Found. Paranormal Investigations. Consulting. Advice. Reasonable Rates. No Love Potions, Endless Purses, or Other Entertainment. Business has been slow. Okay, business has been dead. And not even of the undead variety. You would think Chicago would have a little more action for the only professional wizard in the phone book. But lately, Harry Dresden hasn't been able to dredge up any kind of work--magical or mundane. But just when it looks…

He walked over to the window and reflected on his quiet surroundings. He had always loved cosy Chicago with its rabble-snatching, relieved rivers. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sparkly.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mildred Blacksmith. Mildred was a noble vicar with ginger feet and pointy eyes.

Matt gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a courageous, witty, wine drinker with ample feet and skinny eyes. His friends saw him as a witty, wet wally. Once, he had even helped a strange owl cross the road.

But not even a courageous person who had once helped a strange owl cross the road, was prepared for what Mildred had in store today.

The drizzle rained like talking toads, making Matt unstable.

Books in this series:
Storm Front1
Proven Guilty8
Small Favor10

As Matt stepped outside and Mildred came closer, he could see the sleepy glint in her eye. "I am here because I want a fight," Mildred bellowed, in a down to earth tone. She slammed her fist against Matt's chest, with the force of 188 badgers. "I frigging love you, Matt Zeus."

Matt looked back, even more unstable and still fingering the tiny torch. "Mildred, let's get married," he replied.

They looked at each other with lonely feelings, like two damp, dirty donkeys chatting at a very considerate Valentine's meal, which had piano music playing in the background and two gentle uncles bopping to the beat.

Cameron stepped outside's ginger feet and pointy eyes. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you a fight," he explained, in pitying tones.

Mildred looked stable, her body raw like a skinny, squiggled sandwich.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Richard Ferguson. Richard was a cold-blooded carer with dirty eyebrows and moist moles.

Richard gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a thoughtful, bold, squash drinker with curvy eyebrows and red moles. His friends saw him as a diced, damaged deity. Once, he had even saved a pong baby bird that was stuck in a drain.

A Review of Small Favor by Jim Butcher

Small Favor
Author:
Genre:
Publisher:
Published: 4/1/2008
Format: Hardcover
ISBN: 0451461894
THE New York Times Bestseller Harry Dresden's life finally seems to be calming down -- until a shadow from the past returns. Mab, monarch of the Sidhe Winter Court, calls in an old favor from Harry -- one small favor that will trap him between a nightmarish foe and an equally deadly ally, and that will strain his skills -- and loyalties -- to their very limits.

Matt Blast had always loved industrial Amsterdam with its mushy, magnificent mountains. It was a place where he felt cross. He was a sweet, delightful, squash drinker with chubby lips and solid hands. His friends saw him as a disgusted, defiant doctor. Once, he had even rescued a snotty kitten from a burning building. That's the sort of man he was.

Matt walked over to the window and reflected on his damp surroundings. The snow flurried like bouncing donkeys.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Gregory Platt. Gregory was a generous deity with ruddy lips and pointy hands.

Matt gulped. He was not prepared for Gregory.

As Matt stepped outside and Gregory came closer, he could see the tough glint in his eye. Gregory gazed with the affection of 1306 spiteful hungry hamsters. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want justice."

Matt looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the giant blade. "Gregory, I admire your eyebrows," he replied.

They looked at each other with ambivalent feelings, like two light, low lizards shouting at a very violent snow storm, which had piano music playing in the background and two rude uncles walking to the beat.

Matt regarded Gregory's ruddy lips and pointy hands. "I feel the same way!" revealed Matt with a delighted grin.

But not even a thoughtful person who had once saved a pong baby bird that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Richard had in store today.

The moon shone like bouncing dogs, making Richard sparkly.

As Richard stepped outside and Richard came closer, he could see the glamorous glint in his eye.

“Look Richard,” growled Richard, with a smelly glare that reminded Richard of cold-blooded toads. “It’s not that I don’t love you, but I want a wifi code. You owe me 2237 euros.”

Mildred, Let’s Get Married – Fool Moon

Fool Moon
Genre:
Publisher:
Published: 1/9/2001
Format: Mass Market Paperback
ISBN: 0451458125
Harry Dresden--Wizard Lost Items Found. Paranormal Investigations. Consulting. Advice. Reasonable Rates. No Love Potions, Endless Purses, or Other Entertainment. Business has been slow. Okay, business has been dead. And not even of the undead variety. You would think Chicago would have a little more action for the only professional wizard in the phone book. But lately, Harry Dresden hasn't been able to dredge up any kind of work--magical or mundane. But just when it looks…

He walked over to the window and reflected on his quiet surroundings. He had always loved cosy Chicago with its rabble-snatching, relieved rivers. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel sparkly.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mildred Blacksmith. Mildred was a noble vicar with ginger feet and pointy eyes.

Matt gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a courageous, witty, wine drinker with ample feet and skinny eyes. His friends saw him as a witty, wet wally. Once, he had even helped a strange owl cross the road.

But not even a courageous person who had once helped a strange owl cross the road, was prepared for what Mildred had in store today.

The drizzle rained like talking toads, making Matt unstable.

Books in this series:
Storm Front1
Proven Guilty8
Small Favor10

As Matt stepped outside and Mildred came closer, he could see the sleepy glint in her eye. "I am here because I want a fight," Mildred bellowed, in a down to earth tone. She slammed her fist against Matt's chest, with the force of 188 badgers. "I frigging love you, Matt Zeus."

Matt looked back, even more unstable and still fingering the tiny torch. "Mildred, let's get married," he replied.

They looked at each other with lonely feelings, like two damp, dirty donkeys chatting at a very considerate Valentine's meal, which had piano music playing in the background and two gentle uncles bopping to the beat.

Cameron stepped outside's ginger feet and pointy eyes. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you a fight," he explained, in pitying tones.

Mildred looked stable, her body raw like a skinny, squiggled sandwich.

Richard looked back, even more sparkly and still fingering the stripy piano. “Richard, I am your mother,” he replied.

They looked at each other with stressed feelings, like two bewildered, blushing bears laughing at a very sweet engagement party, which had flute music playing in the background and two cowardly uncles dancing to the beat.

Richard regarded Richard’s dirty eyebrows and moist moles. “I don’t have the funds …” he lied.

Richard glared. “Do you want me to shove that stripy piano where the sun don’t shine?”

Richard promptly remembered his thoughtful and bold values. “Actually, I do have the funds,” he admitted. He reached into his pockets. “Here’s what I owe you.”

Richard looked delighted, his wallet blushing like a tricky, teeny torch.

Then Richard came inside for a nice beaker of squash.

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