In This Fateful Hour (Sixty Five Hours)

Sixty Five Hours
N.R. Walker

Seriously you can never go wrong with N.R. Walker. And if you want just a small taste of an excellent author, via the stand-alone variety (or rather almost stand-alone, as this one has a short Christmas story companion) – “Sixty Five Hours” is a good place to start. (Though I’m still drooling over “Taxes and TARDIS,” because really, any mention of David Tennant triggers my Pavlovian response.)

There’s just something about the way Ms. Walker writes that keeps me reading and rereading her stories. This woman makes me smile. I liken her to Queen Latifah, who always makes me smile. I’ve no idea why. It’s not just that Ms. Walker does the whole chapter title thing for this story, which she does. (And did I forget to mention how much I’m a real sucker for chapter titles—L’Engle ruined me for all others in a “fateful hour.”) That aside, “Sixty-Five Hours” is captivating, from the countdown clock, to the photo shots, to the socks and definitely Lucas strutting his stuff at club. For Cameron and Lucas I smiled even when I was choked up and tears pooled in my eyes.