Huck Finn’s Greatest Adventure
by Andrew Joyce
My name is Andrew Joyce and I write books for a living. The Empress has been kind enough to allow me a little space on her blog to promote my new novel RESOLUTION: Huck Finn’s Greatest Adventure. I think it’s a good book, but what do I know? Anyway, I’m kinda shy about tooting my own horn. So I think I’ll turn things over to my dog Danny—Danny the Dog. He always has an attitude and usually does not speak highly of me. But please understand that we co-exist as the old Soviet Union and the United States once co-existed. We tolerate each other. So without further ado, here’s Danny.
Andrew begged me to come along with him today so that I could help him out. For a person that works with words for a living, he has very little to say in real life. He wants me to tout his book for him, but I don’t think I will. Instead, I think I’ll tell you about my latest adventure. I’m always having adventures. I like to write about them and what I write is 100% true.
I want to talk about two of my most favorite things in the world. First, I would like to introduce myself,I’m Danny the Dog. I live on a boat with my human, Andrew. He’s okay for a human.
So, now down to business.
I want to tell you about my love of hot dogs—chicken hot dogs in particular. Every morning when I take Andrew out for his walk, after we come back he’ll give me a hot dog. This is something new in our relationship, but I’m not complaining. The thing is that Andrew is so malleable, I have conned him into giving me a second hot dog.
Allow me to explain. I have it down to single-bark commands. The way it works is that I’ll bark once if I want Andrew to do something for me. If he doesn’t hop to within thirty seconds, I bark again, just once. That usually does it. I seldom have to bark a third time. So after I finish my morning hot dog, I give the command and Andrew brings me another one. I always try for a third, but Andrew isn’t that well-trained . . . yet.
Now on to my next great joy—chasing anything with wheels on it. Don’t you just love to bark at and chase cars? Well, I do. I must admit, I don’t always do it, but when I do, I do it with a vengeance. Once Andrew had me tied to a tree while he was communing with nature or whatever he does when he’s around trees (I use trees for a completely different purpose). We were behind this building and a big truck, an eighteen-wheeler, came by. I couldn’t resist. I went after it full force. But wouldn’t you know it? The damn leash stopped me two feet from the damn truck! The driver slammed on his brakes and had a pained look on his face, so it wasn’t all for naught.
The last thing I want to tell you about is the time I bounced off the wheel of a truck. Somehow I connived to get off the leash Andrew insist I be tethered with; as he was distracted by something, our neighbor Beth came by in her truck. It was too good to pass up and I tore out after the offending vehicle. Well, I’m embarrassed to say so, but I misjudged my trajectory and hit the front wheel. Poor Beth thought she had run me over. Andrew had a heart attack. And I just stood there with a dazed look . . . and a grin on my face. After all, when Beth stopped, I won. I had captured the truck.
That’s about it for now. If I hurry, I might be able to catch a few cars before Andrew finds out I’m not on the leash.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot—go out and buy Andrew’s book.
About RESOLUTION: Huck Finn’s Greatest Adventure
It is 1896 in the Yukon Territory, Canada. The largest gold strike in the annals of human history has just been made; however, word of the discovery will not reach the outside world for another year.
By happenstance, a fifty-nine-year-old Huck Finn and his lady friend, Molly Lee, are on hand, but they are not interested in gold. They have come to that neck of the woods seeking adventure.
Someone should have warned them, “Be careful what you wish for.”
When disaster strikes, they volunteer to save the day by making an arduous six hundred mile journey by dog sled in the depths of a Yukon winter. They race against time, nature, and man. With the temperature hovering around seventy degrees below zero, they must fight every day if they are to live to see the next.
On the frozen trail, they are put upon by murderers, hungry wolves, and hostile Indians, but those adversaries have nothing over the weather. At seventy below, your spit freezes a foot from your face. Your cheeks burn—your skin turns purple and black as it dies from the cold. You are in constant danger of losing fingers and toes to frostbite.
It is into this world that Huck and Molly race.
They cannot stop. They cannot turn back. They can only go on. Lives hang in the balance—including theirs.
This is Andrew again. On behalf of Danny and myself, I would like to thank The Empress for having us over. It’s been a real pleasure.
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