Burt L. Standish, a pen name used by Gilbert Patten, was a popular 20th century writer of dime novels and short stories, with his best known work being the Frank Merriwell stories Views: 230
Every good girl longs for a chance to be a little naughty.Raw from an ugly divorce and wrung out from her demanding job, Haley Thorne needs a break. When Haley’s doctor urges her to take a vacation, she heads to her secret cabin in the woods.The very first night, Haley dreams of an erotic threesome that leaves her panting and aroused. When sexy police detective Jeremy Pickett shows up at her door, she’s shocked: He looks like the man in her midnight fantasy! Levelheaded Haley unleashes her inner seductress and has a little fun—handcuffs and all! Views: 229
In which the Hero makes his First Flash and Explosion. Somewhere about the middle of this nineteenth century, a baby boy was born on the raging sea in the midst of a howling tempest. That boy was the hero of this tale. He was cradled in squalls, and nourished in squalor—a week of dirty weather having converted the fore-cabin of the emigrant ship into something like a pig-sty. Appreciating the situation, no doubt, the baby boy began his career with a squall that harmonised with the weather, and, as the steward remarked to the ship’s cook, “continued for to squall straight on end all that day and night without so much as ever takin’ breath!” It is but right to add that the steward was prone to exaggeration. “Stooard,” said the ship’s cook in reply, as he raised his eyes from the contemplation of his bubbling coppers, “take my word for it, that there babby what has just bin launched ain’t agoin’ to shovel off his mortal coil—as the play-actor said—without makin’ his mark some’ow an’ somew’eres.” “What makes you think so, Johnson?” asked the steward. “What makes me think so, stooard?” replied the cook, who was a huge good-natured young man. “Well, I’ll tell ’ee. I was standin’ close to the fore hatch at the time, a-talkin’ to Jim Brag, an’ the father o’ the babby, poor feller, he was standin’ by the foretops’l halyards holdin’ on to a belayin’-pin, an’ lookin’ as white as a sheet—for I got a glance at ’im two or three times doorin’ the flashes o’ lightnin’. Well, stooard, there was lightnin’ playin’ round the mizzen truck, an’ the main truck, an’ the fore truck, an’ at the end o’ the flyin’ jib-boom, an’ the spanker boom; then there came a flash that seemed to set afire the entire univarse; then a burst o’ thunder like fifty great guns gone off all at once in a hurry. At that identical moment, stooard, there came up from the fore-cabin a yell that beat—well, I can’t rightly say what it beat, but it minded me o’ that unfortnit pig as got his tail jammed in the capstan off Cape Horn. The father gave a gasp. ‘It’s born,’ says he. ‘More like’s if it’s basted,’ growled Jim Brag. ‘You’re a unfeelin’ monster, Brag,’ says I; ‘an’ though you are the ship’s carpenter, I will say it, you ’aven’t got no more sympathy than the fluke of an anchor!’ Hows’ever the poor father didn’t hear the remark, for he went down below all of a heap—head, legs, and arms—anyhow. Then there came another yell, an’ another, an’ half a dozen more, which was followed by another flash o’ lightnin’ an’ drownded in another roar o’ thunder; but the yells from below kep’ on, an’ came out strong between times, makin’ no account whatever o’ the whistlin’ wind an’ rattlin’ ropes, which they riz above—easy.—Now, stooard, do you mean for to tell me that all that signifies nothink? Do you suppose that that babby could go through life like an or’nary babby? No, it couldn’t—not even if it was to try—w’ich it won’t!” Having uttered this prophecy the cook resumed the contemplation of his bubbling coppers.... Views: 229
Already devastated by loss, Bourne is shattered by a report that his last friend in the world, Martin Lindros has gone missing. A CI deputy director, Lindros was in Ethiopia tracking suspicious shipments of yellowcake uranium and atomic bomb weaponry. His last lifeline to humanity, Bourne will not let Lindros go. Despite his hatred for CI, Bourne sets out to rescue his friend and finish the job: dismantling a terrorist network determined to build nuclear armaments by cutting off their source of money. But Bourne doesn't realize that these men, Islamic supremacists, are leaders of an incredibly dangerous, technologically savvy group with ties from Africa, across the Middle East, and into Eastern Europe and Russia. They have predicted Bourne's every move, and are counting on his unwitting help in their plans to destroy America. Views: 229
* Alien hunting can get a girl killed. It can also get her a date.*
High school senior Camille Robins and her best friend are determined to snag the attention of their crushes before graduation next month. Armed with red-hot outfits and killer hair, they sneak into the hottest nightclub in town -- which caters to the rich and famous, both human and alien. They end up following Erik (who is human) and Silver (who isn't) through a guarded door and are soon separated and under attack...and not the good kind.
Bad boy Erik spares Camille's life, but the two are soon being chased by gun-toting Alien Investigation and Removal agents. Camille's more confused than ever because Erik's finally showing real interest in her, but the agents are accusing him of dealing Onadyn -- a drug that ruins human lives. Suddenly, with the heat of his kiss lingering on her lips, Camille has to decide whose side she's on...and whether she's willing to put her life on the line to save Erik's. Views: 229
This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. This text refers to the Bibliobazaar edition.
--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.
--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition. Views: 229
R.M. Ballantyne, in full Robert Michael Ballantyne (born April 24, 1825, Edinburgh, Scot.—died Feb. 8, 1894, Rome, Italy), Scottish author chiefly famous for his adventure story The Coral Island (1858). This and all of Ballantyne’s stories were written from personal experience. The heroes of his books are models of self-reliance and moral uprightness. Snowflakes and Sunbeams; or, The Young Fur Traders (1856) is a boys’ adventure story based on Ballantyne’s experiences with the Hudson’s Bay Company. Annoyed by a geography-related mistake he had made in The Coral Island, he afterward traveled widely to research the backgrounds of his stories. Views: 229
Revisit this classic tale of gripping suspense from New York Times bestselling authorLinda Castillo! Sara Douglas watched as Nick Tyson emerged from the heavy rain, broken andbattered. She'd returned to Cape Darkwood, and the cliff side mansion that held herfamily's secrets, to research her parents' murder--and stop the nightmares. As chief ofpolice, Sara knew Nick could help. But his mere presence had always left her breathless...Few people understood how much Nick had lost, but while Sara ran, Nick had nowhere else togo. Instead, he patrolled a divided town whose secrets lay dormant at the bottom of thecliffs. Nick wouldn't let that be Sara's fate, no matter how much it pained him to see heragain. Their pasts linked by tragedy, the truth would finally give them a fresh start. Butonly if the keeper of that truth allowed it...Originally published in October 2007 Views: 229
R.M. Ballantyne was a Scottish author who wrote over 100 books and was best known for children’s fiction. Ballantyne was also a famous artist. Views: 229
It was the old story of woman comforting man in his affliction; the trouble in this instance appearing in the shape of a long blue envelope addressed to himself in his own handwriting. Poor young poet! He had no more appetite for eggs and bacon that morning; he pushed aside even his coffee, and buried his head in his hands. Views: 228
An extraordinary debut, a story of passion and sacrifice in a city battered by war ... In Berlin, who can you trust? A story of passion and sacrifice in a city battered by war ... It is 1943 and each night in a bomb shelter beneath the Berlin Zoo an Australian woman, Vera, shelters with her German husband, Axel, the zoo's director. together, they struggle to look after the animals through the air raids and food shortages. When the zoo's staff is drafted into the army, forced labourers are sent in as replacements. At first, Vera finds the idea abhorrent, but gradually she realises that the new workers are the zoo's only hope, and forms an unlikely bond with one of them. this is a city where a foreign accent is a constant source of suspicion, where busybodies report the names of neighbours' dinner guests to the Gestapo. As tensions mount in the closing days of the war, nothing, and no one, it seems, can be trusted. the Zookeeper's War is a powerful novel of a marriage, and of a city... Views: 228
Chapter One. A traveller was making his way through the Black Forest in Germany. A pack was on his back, of a size which required a stout man to carry it, and a thick staff was in his hand. He had got out of his path by attempting to make a short cut, and in so doing had lost his way, and had been since wandering he knew not where. Yet he was stout of heart, as of limb, and a night spent in the depths of the forest would have concerned him but little had he not set a value upon time. “I have lost so much in my days of ignorance and folly,” he kept saying, “that I must make up by vigilance what has been thus misspent. I wish that I had known better. However, I am now ready to spend all, and be spent in the work of the Good Master I serve.” The ground was uneven, his load heavy, and the weather warm. Still he trudged bravely on, consoling himself by giving forth, in rich full tones, a hymn of Hans Sachs of Nuremburg, the favourite poet of Protestant Germany in those days. Thus he went on climbing up the steep side of the hill, out of which dark rocks and tall trees protruded in great confusion. At last he got into what looked like a path. “All right now,” he said to himself; “this must lead somewhere, and I have still an hour of daylight to find my way out of the forest. When I get to the top of this hill I shall probably be better able to judge what direction to take.” He trudged on as before, now and then stopping to take breath, and then once more going on bravely. At length the sound of a woodman’s axe caught his ear. “All right,” said he. “I should not have allowed my heart to doubt about the matter. The Good One who has protected me hitherto will still continue to be my Guide and Friend.” He stopped to listen from which direction the sounds came. The loud crash of a falling tree enabled him better to judge, and by the light of the sinking sun, which found its way through the branches of the tall trees, he made directly towards the spot. He soon caught sight of an old man, stripped to his shirt and trousers, who with his gleaming axe was hewing the branches of the tree he had just felled. Not far off stood a young boy with a couple of donkeys, which he was beginning to load with fagots, near a pile of which they stood. “Friend woodman,” said the traveller, as he got up to him, and the old man stood for a moment leaning on his axe, with an inquiring glance in his eye. “Friend woodman, I have lost my way; can you help me to find it?” “Not to-night, friend traveller,” answered the woodman. “If I was to attempt to put you on your way, you would lose it again in five minutes. This is no easy country for a man ignorant of it to pass through without a guide, and neither I nor little Karl there have time just now to accompany you. But you look like an honest man, and if you will come with me to my cottage, I will help you as far as I can to-morrow morning.” “Thank you,” said the traveller. “I accept your offer.” “Well then, I have just made my last stroke,” said the old man, lifting up his axe.... Views: 228
It was midwinter. The owner of Willow Creek stood at his parlourwindow, smoking and gazing. There was not much to look at, for snow hadoverwhelmed and buried the landscape, fringed every twig of the willows,and obliterated the frozen river.(Illutrated) Views: 227
It's September 1811, and someone is killing the wealthy young sons of London's most prominent families. Partially butchered, with strange objects stuffed into their mouths, their bodies are found dumped in public places at dawn. When the grisly remains of Alfred, Lord Stanton's eldest son are discovered in the Old Palace Yard beside the House of Lords, the local magistrate turns to Sebastian St. Cyr, Viscount Devlin, for help. Ranging from the gritty world of Thames-side docks to the luxurious drawing rooms of Mayfair, Sebastian finds himself confronting his most puzzling--and disturbing--case yet. With the help of his trusted allies--young servant Tom, Irish doctor Paul Gibson, and his lover Kat Boleyn--Sebastian struggles to decipher a cryptic set of clues that link the scion of a banking family to the son of a humble Kentish vicar. For as one killing follows another, Sebastian discovers he is confronting a murderer with both a method and a purpose to his ritualized killings, and that the key to it all may lie in the enigmatic stanzas of a haunting poem...and in a secret so dangerous that men are willing to sacrifice their own children to keep the truth from becoming known. Views: 227
Frank Wilders is a bright, shining young star rising to distinguished heroism in the London Fire Brigade. No one is more proud of his accomplishments than his younger brother, Willie. As Frank battles the flames, Willie learns what the heart of a hero is made of. Through daring rescues, valiant hard work, plots of arson, attempted murder and winning the worthy hearts of virtuous young women, the best and worst of mid-19th century London is exposed. Fighting the Flames: A Tale of the London Fire Brigade is a masterpiece of fiction; a beautiful tapestry woven of adventure, heroism and the broad spectrum of human nature. R.M. Ballantyne expertly maneuvers his extensive and intricate cast of characters through a series of crossed paths, creating lively interplay between the wide varieties of human personalities and foibles that create the diversity of city life--all in the shadow of the great nightly battle with the flames. Views: 227
