By Craig Johnson
It’s vacation season in Absaroka County and Sheriff Walt Longmire will get own during this pleasant selection of 4 brief tales from long island Times–bestselling writer Craig Johnson.
Readers glimpse a softer part of Sheriff Walt Longmire as he grapples with the loss of life of his spouse, Martha, and his occasionally turbulent yet ever-loving dating together with his daughter, Cady. In those 4 stories—“Ministerial Aid,” “Slick-Tongued Devil,” “Toys for Tots,” and “Unbalanced” (three of which were despatched to Johnson’s enthusiasts through the years within the author’s “Post-it” e-mails)—Walt is alternately at his top and his worst. He is helping a a little bit delusional aged sufferer of household abuse whereas wearing a bathrobe and a median hangover on New Year’s Day. He’s sidelined by means of grief whilst his wife’s obituary reappears within the paper and there’s an unforeseen knock on his door days sooner than Christmas. He strives to aid even those that don’t wish it while he selections up a tender lady hitchhiker, and he’s compelled into a few last-minute Christmas buying via the best criminal brain of Our Time, in which he may perhaps simply prove saving a tender military chaplain’s Christmas.
Full of Longmire’s dry wit and sturdy middle, Christmas in Absaroka County is a vacation must-have for each Longmire and Craig Johnson fan, and it's also the 1st bankruptcy of The chilly Dish, the 1st novel within the Walt Longmire secret sequence. Amazon evaluate
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Extra info for Christmas in Absaroka County (Walt Longmire, Book 8.1)
I wish we knew what the voice was,” said Ellen. ” She felt a fleeting uneasiness. Henry waved the question away as he sat down to eat. “Something to do with the way the brain and the ears are hooked up,” he said with his mouth full. “Plenty of time to find that out. ” said Ellen. ” Henry shrugged. “I don’t think it’s God, and I don’t think it’s the Voice of America. Why not ask Confido? ” “Not according to Confido,” said Henry, standing and kissing her. “Then I guess we haven’t after all,” she said absently.
He was a tall, rustic man, ordinarily as shy as a woods creature. But something had changed him, made him fiery and loud. ” “Happiness, certainly! ” “Religion? Security, Henry? ” “You tell me, Henry. I give up,” Ellen had said helplessly. “Somebody to talk to! Somebody who really understands! ” He’d waved Confido over his head. ” Now, on the morning after, Ellen turned away from the window and gingerly slipped Confido’s earphone into her ear. She pinned the flat metal box inside her blouse and concealed the wire in her hair.
Fuzz jumped. He heard the great, echoing ka-boom of the entrance door slamming shut upstairs. He assumed that the new girl had entered the building, since not another soul in the world had any business there. It was not necessary for Fuzz to guide the new girl across the basketball court, past the bowling alleys, down the iron stairway, and over the duckboards to his office door. The buildings and grounds people had marked the way with arrows, each arrow bearing the legend GENERAL COMPANY RESPONSE SECTION, PUBLIC RELATIONS DEPARTMENT.