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Lita Hoile hurried toward the Psychiatric Ward of Munson Hospital as her pager went off for the second time. The colors of mangled innocence were the hardest to endure… for both the victim and the healer. He came lumbering down the corridor: a hulk of a man reeking of old sweat and malt whiskey, features little more than a shadow in Lita's mind.
It happened so fast: Bill chugging past her in a blur, launching himself at a silhouette of fire.
The orderlies pulled Sarah's father to his feet and dragged him down the hall, security guard trailing warily behind them. Lita had known about the eclipse for weeks - vaguely, through half-heard conversations and snippets on the Evening News.
She gave up after a couple of hours and plopped down in front of the TV, ready to soak her brain in something tepid and mindless.
Lita lay awake in bed for a very long time, unable to escape the glow of her own ripening terror.
She remembered seeing it on the screen at the beginning of the interview - something foreign, Slavic perhaps. Allendale Lane lay nestled in a middle-class neighborhood less than a mile from the hospital. Lita walked around the side - past a row of scraggly hedges - saw a crowd gathered in the tiny back yard: men and women, boys and girls huddled together on a carpet of dead leaves.
She had her answer, as he stretched out ebony fingers to grasp her hand: Sceadu was no prophet of the Darkness. The old priest hunched in the doorway - more ancient than she remembered - hands quivering with palsy. Someone grabbed Lita's arm and yanked her into the room, pushing the door closed behind her. Papa Baxter flashed scarlet as the flames tried to burn through enshrouding darkness, but his Light shrank back to a line of burning blood.
Lita spent the rest of the morning working with Sarah, trying to heal the bruises Papa Baxter left behind… feeling her own spirit dim as she watched the little girl sink deeper into the jaws of the eclipse.
She stared at him - not his dying Light, but him - tousled hair and steel gray eyes, hawk nose and quirky grin. Fury kindled deep inside, burning through the fear, rising from that dark abyss into which she felt herself slipping… felt them all slipping. A new Light bloomed on the horizon: brighter, more glorious than any human mind could fathom. Light beckoned in the distance: a special kind of radiance, requiring a special kind of vision. Currently the Mayor of London, he previously served as the Member of Parliament for Henley-on-Thames and as editor of The Spectator magazine. Johnson was educated at the European School of Brussels, Ashdown House School, Eton College and Balliol College, Oxford, where he read Literae Humaniores. On his father's side Johnson is a great-grandson of Ali Kemal Bey, a liberal Turkish journalist and the interior minister in the government of Damat Ferid Pasha, Grand Vizier of the Ottoman Empire, who was murdered during the Turkish War of Independence.[5] During World War I, Boris's grandfather and great aunt were recognised as British subjects and took their grandmother's maiden name of Johnson.
Try as I might, I could not look at an overhead projection of a growth profit matrix, and stay conscious. He wrote an autobiographical account of his experience of the 2001 election campaign Friends, Voters, Countrymen: Jottings on the Stump. Johnson is a popular historian and his first documentary series, The Dream of Rome, comparing the Roman Empire and the modern-day European Union, was broadcast in 2006. After being elected mayor, he announced that he would be resuming his weekly column for The Daily Telegraph. After having been defeated in Clwyd South in the 1997 general election, Johnson was elected MP for Henley, succeeding Michael Heseltine, in the 2001 General Election. He was appointed Shadow Minister for Higher Education on 9 December 2005 by new Conservative Leader David Cameron, and resigned as editor of The Spectator soon afterwards. A report in The Times[22] stated that Cameron regarded the possible affair as a private matter, and that Johnson would not lose his job over it.
The Conservative Party hired Australian election strategist Lynton Crosby to run Johnson's campaign. Johnson pledged to introduce new Routemaster-derived buses to replace the city's fleet of articulated buses if elected Mayor.
I believe Londoners should have a greater say on how their city is run, more information on how decisions are made and details on how City Hall money is spent.
Ken Livingstone presides over a budget of more than ?10billion and demands ?311 per year from the average taxpaying household in London. Under my Mayoralty I am certain that London will be judged as a civilised place; a city that cares for and acknowledges its older citizens.
The Mayor’s biggest area of responsibility is transport, and I intend to put the commuter first by introducing policies that will first and foremost make journeys faster and more reliable. She spotted Bill Meltzer outside one of the examining rooms, face unusually grim, straw-blond hair mussed where he always ran his fingers through it when a tough case had him stumped. The brassy gleam of self-confidence suffused him, surrounding a sickly yellow core of doubt.
A little girl crouched in one corner in a faded jumpsuit covered with leering images of Minnie Mouse. Sarah rose on spindly legs, held out the hand that did not have its thumb jammed in her mouth.
Lita steered her down the corridor toward the Cafeteria, scanning for the first glimmer of trouble. She grabbed a Diet Coke and a bag of stale pretzels, went straight to her Mac, and dove into the Net, surfing for anything she could find on the eclipse. A nightmare chased her out of fitful slumber well after midnight, snapped her eyes open as she struggled to untangle sheets grown clammy with her sweat. Lita passed them on the way to work: a parade of zombies with blank, black crescents slicing through their Inner Light.
A wedge of darkness curved along her side, leering at Lita like the sideways grin of some toothless demon.
That self-proclaimed prophet from the Evening News, he saw it too: the knowledge had been there, hidden in his spooky eyes.
She walked it, to give herself time to think about what she would say… about how crazy she would sound if this man's particular vision did not coincide with her own.
She stumbled past Sceadu's startled neighbors, past their barking dogs and squealing children. He peered at her from behind glasses ridiculously thick, making his eyes look like a pair of watery amoebas trapped beneath the lens of a microscope.
Lita spent most of it wrestling with blankets that offered no warmth at all, sobbing into the darkness… watching it eat away at her. Doctors, nurses, orderlies, patients all moved in a languid fog, as if the darkness had filled their limbs with sludge. A week ago he would have argued and cajoled, refused to give her peace until she surrendered. Lita swung her eyes toward the bed, saw the tiny figure buried in a nest of pillows: wide brown eyes staring blankly past both of them, little mouth sucking fiercely on a thumb. She worked through lunch, devoid of appetite, focused her remaining strength on breaking through Sarah's shell of silence while counting the hours - the minutes - until totality. Just before three, Bill Meltzer popped his head inside the door and tried to smile, his Light a mere flicker of blue and yellow. At least forty of the Hospital staff sat, stood, or lay up there already, with a few of the ambulatory patients sprinkled among them. You taste so very sweet, as I knew you would, but perhaps I'll start with the choicest morsel first.
She dragged the child after her, stumbled toward that lone, unblinking star, knowing there would be no other chance. It streamed from her in all directions, crackling through the void, sheathing other souls in incandescent armor. It swelled across the sky, boiling away shadows, chasing Darkness back into Its lesser Kingdom. In reference to his cosmopolitan ancestry, Johnson has described himself as a "one-man melting pot" — with a combination of Muslims, Jews and Christians comprising his great-grandparentage.[6] His father's maternal grandmother, Marie Louise de Pfeffel, was a descendant of Prince Paul of Wurttemberg through his relationship with a German actress. They have two sons—Milo Arthur (born 1995) and Theodore Apollo (born 1999)—and two daughters—Lara Lettice (born 1993) and Cassia Peaches (born 1997).[13] Boris Johnson and his family currently live in Holloway, North London. In 1999 he became editor of The Spectator, where he stayed until December 2005 upon being appointed Shadow Minister for Higher Education. He is also author of three collections of journalism, Johnson's Column, Lend Me Your Ears and Have I Got Views For You.
On 2 April 2006 it was alleged in the News of the World that Johnson had had another extramarital affair, this time with Times Higher Education Supplement journalist Anna Fazackerley. Yet Londoners have little confidence in the Mayor spending their money with care and prudence. It was here that David Cameron and all his supporters gathered to congratulate him on becoming Mayor of London.


Brown hair drooped across her face in greasy tangles, wide brown eyes oblivious to the presence of another stranger. A commotion erupted in the Admitting Area ahead, a gruff voice shouting obscenities; the little girl froze, squeezed Lita's hand so tight the knuckles ground together. Flames of orange and vermilion blazed inside him; she could feel the heat of his psychic fever spraying sparks of poison.
The Light of Sarah Baxter's father spat red and orange virulence in every direction… except one.
Their Inner Lights glowed in tainted harmony, and a shadow carved out sections of their souls. When they prattle on about nuclear Armageddon, they ascribe far too much power to the puny human species. Her aura glimmered above the covers: bright magenta now, with fresh streaks of violet, so much like that little girl's. She decided to visit Sarah Baxter in the Children's Ward right after her morning infusion of coffee, hopeful that they could make some progress. Lita tried to comfort the little girl, to paint the colors of her suffering with softer shades, but she could not heal that darker wound. She went to her office, grabbed a dog-eared phone book from beneath a stack of case files that looked like a badly shuffled deck of cards, fingers trembling as she turned the pages. The fresh air cleared her head: a crisp autumn day, not too cool, wind spiced with the aroma of burning leaves. She could see the mad tangle of Lights in the circle of Sceadu's congregation, each one defiled by its own vertical grin of darkness.
Anne's and wondered if the priest she remembered from Sundays long past would still be there, face as cracked and faded as the church itself. His Inner Light glowed blue, a welcome shimmer of compassion… except that half of him was gone.
Panic danced in his eyes, a spark of violet in his aura: maybe for the first time, the man was scared.
For an instant, Lita stared into the depths of a shadow ripped from the body that had cast it. Somebody had smuggled a stash of leftover doughnuts from the Cafeteria and spread them out on a bedsheet like a hobo's buffet.
She could no longer recognize any of the auras, spectral lines tracing perimeters of shadow. Lita could barely feel Sarah's little hand clenched in her own; all sense of physical contact was fading like the Sun. A nightmare landscape now stretched toward infinity - barren, rocky plains of obsidian and coal, frozen crust of black layered upon black. She collapsed, tumbled into darkness, stretching out her fingertips to touch that fleeting star. She could see it - oh yes, she could see it - flaring and flickering around her, wrapping her in a halo of radiance.
He sank his fangs into the child's tender spirit, ravaging without mercy, ripping open wounds that had never been allowed to heal.
Coronas of white and blue and gold blazed into view, scattering across the rooftop like a galaxy of newborn stars.
Phantoms drifted aimlessly through the gloom like wayward comets deflected by the whims of gravity.
Through Prince Paul, Johnson is a descendant of King George II, and through George's great-great-great grandfather King James I a descendant of all of the previous British royal houses. His comic first novel Seventy-Two Virgins was published in 2004,[16] and his next book will be The New British Revolution, though he has put publication on hold until after the London Mayoral election.[17] He was nominated in 2004 for a British Academy Television Award, and has attracted several unofficial fan clubs and sites. In 2004 he was appointed to the front bench as Shadow Minister for the Arts in a small reshuffle resulting from the resignation of the Shadow Home Affairs Spokesman, Nick Hawkins. And something she rarely saw in Bill - bubbles of lavender floating through the rest, flashes of pastel fireworks.
A line of darkness nibbled at the edge of him, curved across the molten surface of his soul like the shadow of some invisible moon. A chuckle turned into a groan: Channel Eleven was running a fluff piece on myths surrounding the eclipse.
Lita felt like a trespasser at the scene of some pagan ritual - she could smell the tang of a nearby barbecue, hear the sizzle of roasting meat. She leaned against a mailbox on Fifth Street, gasping for air, ignoring the stares of passersby who could not see their own souls slipping into oblivion. Bill always shot her a smile in the mornings - something between a smirk and a leer, usually accompanied by some crack about waking up his libido. She looked down at the little girl clinging to her - saw darkness spreading through the child's tormented Light like a tumor - and knew her tears could not wash away the stain.
She watched in awe as the black disc edged further into the last vestige of the Sun; the sliver of yellow fire seemed to brighten, fighting in desperation to repulse the final charge of shadow armies. Sceadu's roar battered her from every side - she could feel him closing in, breath hissing against her neck like blasts of arctic wind. Light, shimmering and liquid, flowing into every chamber of her soul, covering her like another layer of skin. In 1995 a recording of a telephone conversation was made public revealing a plot by a friend to physically assault a News of the World journalist. The only total eclipse that will hit Munson in our lifetimes; the umbra will pass over us almost dead center. Not too little information, but too much: Celtic dragons swallowing the Sun, Mayan gods demanding bloody sacrifice, Chinese emperors cowering from celestial omens of their own demise. Lita sank into the crumb-filled cushions of her couch and listened to the reporter interview some crackpot who claimed to have the gift of prophecy. For centuries, shamans from your local Pottawatomi tribes have predicted that a day would come when Gitchi Manitou would place His hand over the Sun and send the wendigoes into a Night That Is Not Night to eat the souls of the unworthy. Part of her had vanished in a smooth, black arc, as if the night had loosed invisible piranha to gobble her essence with geometric precision. Friends she had known for years at the Hospital seemed remote, disoriented, floating through the halls like the ghosts of the recently departed. Is this how the cancer patients feel, watching the tumor grow larger on every x-ray, knowing there's no way to stop it? She dialed Directory Assistance, already feeling the sinking sensation in her gut, the certainty that he would not be listed.
She rang the doorbell half a dozen times, heard the harsh electric buzz reverberating inside the house. She could not see him, but she felt him even before he spoke, his words as chill and merciless as winter wind. She lay in bed well past the piercing reveille of her alarm, wondering if there was any point to going in. Lita shuddered with relief… and anger, rising in a molten tide, overflowing the black barriers that squeezed her soul like a vise. Bill had several extra pairs of glasses distributed by the Munson Science Club for viewing the eclipse; he gave her and Sarah each a pair. The Lights of those around her joined in the battle, losing ground to an enemy they could not even see. She saw something at the edges of her vision: a microscopic spark, a single pinprick in Sceadu's suffocating shroud.
Still she chased the star, pulling Sarah with her; she could see it pulsing in the darkness, heartbeat of a lost and distant world. Lita grabbed the little girl and held her tight as the Light of terror screamed silently around them. A disheveled Bill Meltzer crawled off the man's chest - huffing and puffing, angrier than she had ever seen him - and tried to straighten his unruly mop of hair.
Even Bill Meltzer - hyperactive Billy Boy - barely said good-morning to her in the Cafeteria, his smile as bland and lukewarm as the eggs. Sarah's father glared back at her, chest heaving like a man in the throes of a coronary, meaty paw brandishing a very nasty knife. He glared at the security guard, who pointed his pistol between the orderlies, trying to look like he had the situation under control. Lita wandered familiar corridors made strange by the unnatural way light mixed with shadow, chased by the echoes of her own footsteps.
Then the wall of bodies parted and Sceadu strode toward her, a smile splitting his dark features. She stumbled around the corner, not quite able to catch her breath, not quite sure where else to go. Anne's scowled down through the gloom as she climbed the stone steps to the massive oaken doors, pushed. The last precious breath of light died in a blackness more dense and inescapable than anything Lita had ever known. Joy warmed her like the kiss of Summer, filled her with so much Light she felt that she might burst. Anne's in years - not since she was a fidgety child ruffling the pages of her hymnal - but she needed help.


Papa Baxter still burned, but no longer a feverish inferno - more like a campfire sputtering as the last log splinters into embers.
As she stared into that lonely star - Sceadu's laughter ringing in her ears - she realized something else: Sceadu could not see it. She has great conformation, exceptional movement and is the happiest dog I have ever owned.
Her job as a therapy dog for an 83 yr old woman that had is stroke is one she takes very seriously. We continually have Home Health therapists in daily and she greets each of them then quietly goes to her spot to watch everything that goes on.
She accompanies me into the chicken coop and is great with the chickens as well as with her cat ( yes her cat that she found in a ditch).
She passed her Herding Instinct testing at 5 months of age and now working on her Canine Good Citizen certification. I have owned and worked with many breeds of dogs and Arya is by far one of the most intelligent, willing and trainable. I would totally recommend PATCHWORK SHEPHERDS and have friends now that have bought puppies from here as well and all of them are as wonderful as Arya.
A He said, "she is really a love," and described her gentleness and cuddling even from the get-go. A She is very playful with her 'brothers' (two older choc labs), but is extremely responsive to me and is my 'watcher.' A No matter where I am, she is A watching over me.
A When we settle in the evening to watch a movie, she will quietly peruse the house, coming back to my side after she has checked everything out. A If she could, she would hop up on my lap and sit there, just as she did when she was a fuzz-ball pup! It was serendipity that brought you all the way over the mountains on Monday so we could get her!Also a couple of short videos if you're interested.
I was just getting to the serious stage ofshopping for a black coated GSD to raise for my own pet and protection dogwhen my nephew T.J. BlackJack (Zoey x Drake 2009) is doing fine, being a good boy that loves to be around us (Right now he is under my desk sleeping at my feet). We had many family gattering and other partys and he is always good around people in the house.
When my kid gets around to it she will send you pictures, sorry Ia€™m not the computer savvy one. Thank you again for Morgan, she is a gem, here is her 9 week picture (the ear did come down). I think he will excell, and it will be good for the boys to learn how to deal with him (other than play). We purchased Pruett (black collar male from Zoey x Doc August '08 litter) and were so thrilled with him that we had to get another! A few weeks later we welcomed Daphne (hot pink collar female from Anna x Doc August '08 litter) into our lives.
He quickly learns new commands and we are currently practicing, "seek", where we will tell him to "sit and stay" and then we go hide his ball and tell him to "seek" and he finds it. She loves to play in the snow!!She has been doing really well in the house, she is a very quick learner.
I know the "puppy stage" lasts for awhile, but if it continues to go as smoothly as it has been going, it will definitely be a breeze.
She loves to play fetch and she is really good at it, which is surprising to me for her age. She is such a sweet puppy, she is always trying to make friends with all the animals she meets, most which unfortunately haven't been too fond of her.
Miah is starting to be a little friendly, not much, but like I said, Tymber is a persistant little pup and I believe that eventually they will be pals.
We will be taking her on her second fishing trip tomorrow, which is always very exciting for us.
She loves playing with any kind of plants and grass- we are hoping she grows out of that stage for our landscape's sake! Anywho, I just wanted to let you know what a great pup she is and how much Tyler and myself enjoy having her.
He is everythingA I could have ever hoped for in a German Shepherd and I am really happy that I got him.
Several people in our training class have commented on his lovely conformation as he trots across the room while playing with the other pups. He's a great dog!A Anyway, hope all is well in your part of the world and that you are enjoying the holiday season.
Although I had some concerns on how Gracie would react, from the first walk that we did on the way home from Patchwork, she has been wonderful.
Already they play together, with Gracie laying down so that she is on Argus' level, letting him crawl all over her. He already knows his name, figured out how to negotiate the step up the deck, and how to run from me when he picks up something I don't want him to have. He follows us around from room to room and always sleeps next to us when we are in the room.
I do have a crate and have used it but not very much, mostly I just watch him and when I catch that certain look I just take him out and tell him to go potty. When I was in shop he would play under my bench and when he was tired he would sleep under my stool. He and Gracie had a good time exploring and finding just about every kind of poop there is out there. Everyone that meets her is in awe of not only her beauty and structure, but even more so of her super sweet and willing disposition.A  I cannot say enough about her. She is very gentle, smart, intelligent, super athletic, and just wants to please and love everyone.A  She loves to crawl into our laps and pretend she is a tiny lap dog. A His big brother Jackson and he are the best of buds, they have really bonded into something special!
A Also, wea€™d like to thank you for letting us come out and see him when he was a puppy, and for giving us little updates on how he was doing when he was just a lila€™ guy.A  (10lbs when we picked him up to take him home seems little compared to the size he is now! After working for a vet for more then 10 years my husband had to really talk me into getting a GSD.
She has gone though a basic and advanced off leash obediance class and this comming year brings more fun with tracking and agility classes signed up.
We are now thinking of getting her a little brother and look forward to coming out to visit and meet more parents. He is adapting quickly to his new home on Orcas Island, WA A and after 3 days already knows his new name. We have had him for two days now and he has already learned his name, learned how to come when called, walks great on a leash, has learned the command "gentle" for when he takes things with his mouth, is completely potty trained and sleeps all night long in his crate with no problems. We have never seen such a loving, well behaved, intelligent puppy before and we feel so lucky that he is now a part of our family. John and I were so pleased to see the safety measures that you take prior to letting anyone be near or handle any of the puppies. Because of your loving care for your dogs we now have two of the greatest puppies that anyone could ever ask for in life! I am grateful for the time that we were able to spend with the puppies getting to know each and every one of them. You are wonderful about keeping everyone informed through your website just as you did while we were waiting to be able to take the Sebastian and Kasia home. We were also very impressed that you were so willing to let us come visit and you even encouraged us to do so.
We thoroughly appreciate that you allowed us to be a part of the puppies lives even before they were in their new home.
Through your attentive behavior to each and every one of your puppies we new the silly things they did, what they liked to play with all the way down to their little itchy spot that they liked to have scratched. Because of all your love and attention we have two beautiful, healthy puppies that we will get to love for years to come.A A Thank you so much for our beautiful puppies!
A  I got hopeful when I found your pages, with your dog Penny, who reminded me so much of our Isis, who was a beautiful, athletic,and loving black and red blanket pattern longcoat. You DID say on your page that your goal was to find the right dog for people, right down to the color. The way you described the parents of different litters, and later the pups themselves, was exactly right.A  Patiently, you discussed all the little characteristics of each pup in a way that just about made up for our never being able to actually see the pups in person or hold them in our arms.
Pashi learned every trick all of my other dogs know in one 10 minute session at age 11 weeks, and never forgot them.A  She and Itta (9 weeks) both sit at the door automatically now, better than any of our other dogs who have been working on it for ages.



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