Taking the desire of themselves and others, the publisher and the organizer, collaborated again. This time they discussed lessons learned from the first book and established guidelines to make the creation and crediting process move smoother. Together, Ethics Trading and The Writing Network have pushed forward with two additional anthologies and plan to continue the project indefinitely. The anthologies continue to support Doctors without Borders and the people who are touched by their services.
Below is a sample from returning contributor, Stuart Nager’s - Trolling for Love – from the anthology, After Dark
"TONIGHT! I AM GOING OUT WITH LIANNE TONIGHT!"
***** ***** *****
Lianne le Troll had followed the newscasts and read the headlines: "Troll Munches Lady Who Lunches!" It was Dave, posing by his Troll Booth. This lady, Doris Fletcher of Westport CT, did the unthinkable. Not only did she make Dave wait while she searched for the toll fee and flip him off (according to Dave, said the paper and the newscaster) she tried to drive off without saying "Thank you."
You don’t do that to a Troll, especially one who was getting mildly perturbed as it was. Dave ripped the Suburban door off, told her in a quite normal Troll voice (which sounds like shouting to humans) that she had not said "THANK YOU!", and he bit her head off. Literally. He chewed 29 times, for best digestion, as his mother had told him to. Then he threw the Chevy into the levy (well, Hudson River, but levy sounds better).
Ms. le Troll had followed the proceedings with great interest. "Don’t Munch a Motorist" became the mantra of the masses-and a headline from The Daily Examiner-but in the end…what were they going to do to a Troll? They had moved in, so to speak, and that was that. The Bridge and Troll Authority (BTA, formally ‘…and Toll’…) had repeatedly warned drivers about saying "Thank You!" all over the place.
The newscasts and publicity weren’t the only things that interested Lianne. Dave did, Trollself. He was a fine specimen of a Troll, tall, strong, green, and he sent shivers through her when he spoke. It had been a very long time since she felt any stirrings other than guarding her bridge. She was interested in what happened, and the proceedings and trials and tribulations he was going through affected her and her kind as well.
Things had changed the day that the greater metropolitan area New York toll booth collectors went on strike. The first things to clog up were the bridges. Horns blaring, voices shouting, accidents left and right; the noise level was intense. Too intense for those that dwelled under those same bridges. En masse, the Trolls rose up from their lodgings, saw what was going on and their chant "NOT ON MY BRIDGE!" quieted down even the most obnoxious SUV driver.
It was, overall, a peaceful exchange. The Trolls moved into the booths and set up SECOND HOME. Everything they did was in BIG CAPITALS, but was not shouting, from what they told the BTA. The BTA were ecstatic with this new arrangement. The Troll Collectors did not have to go for pee breaks; didn’t smoke, so no smoke breaks; never called in sick-they lived there-they were not union, so all the rigmarole of union dogma went out the window, or over the railing, as the case may be. They always were on time, and there was always another Troll waiting to take over when the main Troll went on a break (they kept that rule) or went back down to the underside to sleep.
Some union reps learned the hard way. You don’t get in a Troll’s face. Well, they couldn’t literally do that, since the smallest Troll still towered over the tallest union rep. Mike Molotov, Bonnie Taylor and "Big" Joe Delanco, major honchos all, were tossed over the side of Dave de Troll’s Bridge (once the Tri-Borough, then the RFK, now the DTB, so named by the press) after trying to "strongly convince" the Trolls that they were in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing.
Bonnie survived, barely, as she had once been almost accepted onto the Olympic diving team (the "almost" a scandal that was hushed up by Daddy). Once over the rail, she immediately went into a closed pike position, judged her diving flight with impeccable precision, did three perfect somersaults, an uber-perfect kick-out into two twists, and her rip entry into the water was a thing to make you cry. This had all been caught on tape. An elderly ex-Olympic swimming judge, Ben Forthwright, supposedly died while watching the replay, uttering "A perfect Ten!", then clutched his chest and passed away with a huge smile on his face.
Mike and "Big" Joe were not as lucky, or in good shape at all. They went splatter-splash. Neither had any training in diving, and it showed in their poor form. They did get points from one bar on 32nd Street for Synchronized Falling, but the points didn’t really count. They both had a smack down that did not leave much room for interpretation, or modifying of scores.
After that, the union reps were much more cordial to the Trolls, and they all learned to say "Thank You." Concessions were made, none in their favor, and the Toll Collectors Union was forced to play a different tune. The Trolls agreed to pay more dues than the human workers, and in the end, the union went for the cash.
To date the ongoing project has donated 50 vaccinations for common illnesses that can be prevented, to those who need it. Help us continue our efforts and grow the support for those in need around the world.
You can find After Dark on Amazon, Smashwords and most other ebook retailers worldwide.
Amazon – After Dark, With Love
Smashwords – After Dark, With Love
To find the first book in the anthology series, visit Ethics Trading’s page: With Love, by Indie Writers United