"It is always sunrise somewhere..." But what happens when the earth suddenly stops rotating? Eternal sunrise, eternal heat! Temps are rising; crops are failing. Mankind is doomed unless they band together physically, emotionally, and sexually! Radio talk show host Jillian Graves takes the lead and forms a delightfully passionate commune where steamy no-holds-barred groupsex is the perfect solution!~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~"No, Dad. The sun, it's all wrong." She swallows, trying gallantly not to panic."What do you mean the sun is all wrong?" Knowing of his daughter's innate sense of nature, he gives credence to her alarm and to her words without question."It's pushing one o'clock but the shadows on my patio look like eleven in the morning. And I'm just now waking up. I always wake at eleven, you know this.""You mean the shadows on that great big, honking porch?" He attempts levity."Yes, that great big honking porch you like so well," she catches her breath and runs her fingers through her long, blonde hair similar to a lion's mane. "Daddy, is anything strange happening on the ranch?"Silence, then the man of forty-eight years clears his throat, "A-hmm. Now that you mention it, the horses are out of sorts today. Every last one of them, even Blaze the mule, came in from the fields and are in their stalls. That, and the dog's kind of extra clingy today, but Bascom is always under foot."From his venue on the tractor, which he had turned off when his phone vibrated, he turns sideways in his seat to take a look back in the direction of the barn although it's out of sight, adding, "The horses weren't asleep the last time I checked on em. Just acting odd is all."She had been listening attentively, but now redirects the discussion, "Daddy, I know, go look at the sundial I gave you last Father's Day, the one outside Mamma's garden. And say hello from me to Bascom."Without objection, he trots over to his ATV parked nearby, scrubs the ears of the maple syrup colored Labrador Retriever nearly asleep in the passenger seat and hollers, "Jillian says hello, boy. Hold on."He turns the key that was left, as always, in the ignition, guns a little gas through the motor then wheels toward the main house. The noted sundial is in the back yard, near the entrance to Katy's garden. Inside a minute, he is on the ground and walks up to the seven-foot-high Gothic sculpture. Drawing near, but mindful to not let his shadow fall on the ground level dial, he observes where the shadow from the high, vertical needle strikes the scale.XI. The sun is still at eleven am.Waves of practical explanations and possible courses of action sweep over him like a zephyr."You there, Pumpkin?""Yes, Daddy. What does it say?" she exclaims, a victim of building anxiety over the past minute."It says eleven o'clock! How is this possible? It's almost one, like you said." He checks his watch. Ideas begin to race through his mind and he doubts his own spoken words.Eventually, Jillian breaks the flustered quiet by speaking in vacant thoughts, "I best be getting on in to work. There'll be lots to do.""Do us both a favor, Jillian," he rarely uses her given name. "Don't let things get too crazy in San Francisco before you hightail it back home. I feel like things are going to get bad, real bad, with people panicking and all. You always have a place here at home. We'll take good care of each other."

In the dystopia setting of a killer heatwave, people cling desperately to their loved ones. Drissa discovers new depths of her marriage through role-playing. Karen, Ally, and Tracy form amazing lesbian bonds with each other. After the heatwave breaks, couples find their heightened love affairs still have the fire. Amazing romantic scenes and humor. ~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~ "Ladies and gentlemen, if we can all gather in the lounge again, we are going to continue our discussion on the sun." The intercom clearly carried Senator Hastings' voice. Members of his staff and five passengers filter in from various spaces of the plane, some from the restrooms but most just needed to stretch their legs and clear their heads. John has removed his dress jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt attempting, as Melody had advised, to level the playing field thus reaching his people more efficiently. Although the lounge only appears half-way occupied, apparently everyone is present. He is even doing his best to sit in a casual style. He perchance observes Gena sitting down rather slowly, holding her back with one hand like she's in pain. Without the immediate need to interrupt the talk, he makes a mental note to keep an eye on her. "I want all of you to forget that I'm the Senator for a while. I want us to talk like people talk because there's a lot of important information I have that you are going to need. So I'd like all of us to be in on this session, together. But, keep in mind I do not have all the answers." "Is the corn genetically modified?" Came a question without a raised hand. John did not seem to mind, answering, "Well, yes, it has to be otherwise it wouldn't grow like it does. The bigger question you're going to have to ask yourself is Are you hungry?'." "You see," came Barry from the middle of the room where the group members petered out, "crops are the most sensitive, temperamental plants we have. Sometimes, the least little thing can bring about a poor yield. They need the dark at night to perform vital functions. Not to sound glib, but there's no point in telling you what all those are unless you are an agriculture graduate like me. What I want to know, John, is where can I get some of the super corn seed?" "I know this one," John announces proudly. "The corn has such a penchant for growing that kernels taken off of the cob will grow. You have to twist the cob in your hand to remove the whole kernel, then there you are. But, you won't have to wait for it to hit the shelves. I have some sample bags to give you folks, more than enough to start your own patch." "Yes, Paige," he answers to her raised hand. "Are lots of people really going to die from this?" She is not shy, but painfully unaware of the interconnectedness of things. "We looked real hard at the numbers," John says, holds his hands in his lap. "If the weather does not do something phenomenal to keep us from overheating, most everyone in America will die from the heat in about one half of a month. Now, that being said, our weather experts strongly believe the earth's atmosphere will save us. Then comes the hard part, starvation." "Based on behavior models, we anticipate most people are going to just sit around and wait to be fed by supermarkets alone. We've lost our ability to be self-sufficient when it comes to growing our own food. During the second world war, most everyone who had access to dirt was planting Victory Gardens for food. Our dependence on the industry of agriculture has done away with that tenacity. If people are smart then maybe they will read the writing on the wall."