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Greg Bear - [War Dogs (Ares Rising) 03] - Take Back the Sky (retail) (epub) ALSO BY GREG BEAR ORBIT NEWSLETTER Navigation Begin Reading Table of. Eternity () is a science fiction novel by Greg is the second book in his The Way series, dealing largely with the aftermath of the. Vitals by Greg Bear standalone sci fi novel () Blending fierce, fast PDF, ePub, Mobi Download free read Vitals online for your Kindle.

Greg Bear Epub

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PDF, ePub, Mobi Download free read Hardfought online for your Kindle, The NOOK Book (eBook) of the Hardfought by Greg Bear at Barnes. Gregory Dale Greg Bear (born August 20, ) is an American writer and illustrator best known for science work has covered. Isaac Asimovs renowned Foundation Trilogy pioneered many of the familiar themes of modern science fiction and shaped many of its best writers. With the.

Still, John had to look around for a moment before he saw Lestrade. He was sitting at a two top, absently watching the footie replay on the telly as he sipped at his pint and picked at his fish and chips. John smiled as he approached the table and Lestrade turned his gaze to him. It was easy to see what drew Mycroft in during these softer moments, John thought as he approached his friend.

John shook his hand, clapping him warmly on the back and smiling. Greg gave him a sympathetic look as the waitress swiftly retreated behind the counter. John picked at his chips after the waitress swiftly set them down. Greg cocked his head in confusion, silently asking John to expand. John took a swig of his drink and sighed.

I mean, I guess not the day of, and not the actually getting married, being with them forever bit, but the planning? The way they get so consumed in it, all the millions of tiny choices?

Corona Bear Greg

How big it all gets for no reason? Honestly, the first time around, ok, whatever. I had a wife, she cared about the dresses and the flowers and all that other shite. Just, go on down to the courthouse and have it be done, exchange the rings, run off for a week to somewhere secluded and go at it like rabbits, change our names, call it good.

John nodded thoughtfully as they continued on chatting over their lunch as he debated how to broach the topic now, four months into planning. When he returned home, feeling much more relaxed and at ease, Mycroft was gone. It was so bizarre to no longer have to dance around Sherlock's chemistry sets. No strange body parts in the fridge, no dangerous chemicals left to be mixed into edible foods, no eyeballs in the mugs, just a neat, tidy kitchen.

Sherlock had taken a shine to the idea of having a privet room for all his experiments, though there was a small armchair in the corner reserved for John.

John smiled to himself as he took the two mugs into the living room, setting one at Sherlock's side table and curling himself around the other in his own armchair. After another moment Sherlock snapped the laptop closed and looked at him, assessing. Sherlock's mouth turned down in displeasure and he huffed in annoyance.

John scrubbed his face. Do we need it all? Just… suits and our closest friends and the officiant, you know?

Halo: Primordium

Big weddings with lots of people you never see coming into town? The… the planning and the party and rings and colors and bridal parties, and too many flowers? Johns' face softened at the vulnerable admission. So… let's compromise? That, I know, is what couples do, yes?

They rescinded the save the dates and invitations, something John felt a little bad about. Their guest list shrank and shrank until it was only the people that really mattered. John and Sherlock, naturally, Mr. Hudson, Mike Stamford if only to say thank you for introducing them , and, to Johns surprise, Mr. In the end, they chose to marry under a tree in the park John had met Mike on that day so many years ago.

Instead of a wedding date set more than six months ahead of time, they resent invitations with a date set for less than a month away. They spoke to Angelo, and he was more than ecstatic to close down his restaurant for a small reception after the actual ceremony. There would be no best men, no speeches, just friends enjoying a lovely meal. Angelo had, naturally, refused to allow John and Sherlock to pay him for closing down the restaurant for an entire night.

In fact, Angelo had gone so far as to gather a few members of his wait staff to play a little music. The day of, John found himself standing in front of their bedroom mirror admiring himself in the Oxford Blue suit Sherlock had selected and commissioned. He looked… good. Really good, actually. His eyes seemed a little brighter, his skin a little tanner, he stood a touch taller as he tugged on his matching tie.

He liked himself like this, if he was honest. He smiled at himself a little in the mirror, running a hand through his carefully combed hair one more time. Sherlock liked it longer like this, John knew. And Sherlock had taken to holding John in place by the greying strands in their bedroom. Something John was in no way inclined to argue. There was a small sprig of bluebells and a few individual light blue Hydrangeas wrapped together and pinned into the lapel.

The whole ensemble was so tightly fitted that John could see the fabric strain as Sherlock took a deep breath. He found himself unable to speak, only gaping at the man he was meant to marry. Sherlock smirked at him knowingly and stepped forward, presenting John with a small handful of flowers. A small bundle of pure white flowers with what looked to be a sprig of lavender in the center.

Sherlock stepped forward and pinned it onto his lapel with gentle hands. With you, I am heard. I am a man who is loved and much more than tolerated.

Without you, I am cold, cut off from the world. Sherlock smiled at him with unyielding affection and dragged John's fingers over the sprig of bluebells. Sherlock's face smoothed out and he smiled in tandem. Sherlock just nodded distractedly. They kissed chastely, then separated and grinned at each other.

The wedding ceremony was short and sweet, they removed their engagement rings, then replaced them back on their respective fingers.

Their vows were simple, softly spoken so that they barely carried over the wind. For these words of promise and adoration and loyalty existed for none but them.

Greg Bear — The Forge of God

John promised to try, to always protect, to be faithful and patient. Sherlock promised to stay, to make things work, to love and never forget that John must always come first. The kiss was chaste, a sweet, slow, peck. They separated and grinned at each other, the light in their eyes was the same light they held after an exciting chase through London.

It was exhilarating, exhilarating and terrifying, they had the rest of their lives looming over them, a commitment that was not easily or cleanly broken. And so, they stood, eyes gleeful and bright in the face of danger, as they always had been, for there was nothing more dangerous than love.

They felt alive. They felt supernovas and suns exploding in their chest as they looked at each other, as they looked at their friends, as they looked at the rings on their fingers, now infinitely heavier for the significance they carried. Everything in the world felt right, perfect. When they got to the restaurant the middle section had been cleared off into a makeshift dancefloor.

There were three young men and one young lady tuning their instruments as the small party sat. Each of the tables had a bouquet of flowers, Sherlock murmured the meanings to him as they sat. Symbols of love, devotion, forgiveness, strength, knowledge, and rebirth surrounded them in a rainbow array of colors. John wondered vaguely how Sherlock had managed to get a hold of so many out of season and exotic flowers but decided not to push the issue, it seemed insignificant in the wake of their union.

He gave John a crooked smile, nervous but joyful, before turning to address their small crowd. Some nodded back or raised their glasses in acknowledgment. As many of you know, the original plan was to have a large wedding full of distant relations and friends of friends of friends in attendance. So, a few words for the few of you who were chosen. Since John was introduced into my life, however, things have changed significantly.

I did not see myself as a man with friends, with companionship or human connections. I thought myself above all that, but like many things in my life, Johns' mere presence has proven me wrong.

John flushed and grinned back at his husband.

Many years ago, John Watson, a man just returned from military service after being invalidated home, took a stroll through Reagents Park.

Unbeknownst to him, a man with a far-reaching gaze felt it prudent to set him on my path without my knowledge and set the wheels in motion for John to bump into an old friend during a stroll through Reagents Park all those years ago.

On the way to our first crime scene. Instead of disdain or anger, as I expected, John showed genuine awe. The second was later that day, I led him on a wild chase through London, departing from this restaurant.

It was, admittedly, just for fun. Partially to see if I was right about the cause of his leg pain, partially to see how he would react to the Work. This historical sequence continues with Heads—which may contain the first description of a so-called "quantum logic computer"—and with Moving Mars. This sequence also charts the historical development of self-awareness in AIs. Its continuing character Jill was inspired in part by Robert A. Bear is credited for the middle book. While most of Bear's work is science fiction, he has written in other fiction genres.

Examples include Songs of Earth and Power fantasy and Psychlone horror. Bear has described his Dead Lines, which straddles the line between science fiction and fantasy, as a "high-tech ghost story ".

He met Bradbury in and had a lifelong correspondence.

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As a teenager Bear attended Bradbury lectures and events in Southern California. Nielson; they divorced in In , he married Astrid Anderson, the daughter of the science fiction and fantasy authors Poul and Karen Anderson. They have two children, Erik and Alexandra. They reside near Seattle , Washington. He is a deist. The procedure included installation of a mechanical aortic valve.

The Forge Of God

Hull Zero Three was short-listed for the Arthur C. Clarke Book Award in Butcher-birds, I think. Area 2 Have you seen the signs yet? My grandmother was a fine Army wife and very smart. In Darwin's Radio and Darwin's Children, he addresses the problem of over-population with a mutation in the human genome making, basically, a new series of humans.

With twelve big Antag ships against our five, how can we put on any sort of offense? Gradually, as the three scientists pool their results, it becomes clear that Homo sapiens is about to face its greatest crisis, a challenge that has slept within our genes since before the dawn of humankind.

But then she opens her eyes and looks right at me.

GOLDA from Huntsville
I do love reading comics unnaturally. Review my other posts. I have always been a very creative person and find it relaxing to indulge in locksport.