Ill Give You The Sun

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I Ll Give You The Sun

Author : Jandy Nelson
ISBN : 9781101593844
Genre : Young Adult Fiction
File Size : 25.67 MB
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The New York Times Bestselling story of first love, family, loss, and betrayal for fans of John Green, Jenny Offill, Emma Straub, and Rainbow Rowell “We were all heading for each other on a collision course, no matter what. Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story.” At first, Jude and her twin brother are NoahandJude; inseparable. Noah draws constantly and is falling in love with the charismatic boy next door, while daredevil Jude wears red-red lipstick, cliff-dives, and does all the talking for both of them. Years later, they are barely speaking. Something has happened to change the twins in different yet equally devastating ways . . . but then Jude meets an intriguing, irresistible boy and a mysterious new mentor. The early years are Noah’s to tell; the later years are Jude’s. But they each have only half the story, and if they can only find their way back to one another, they’ll have a chance to remake their world. This radiant, award-winning novel from the acclaimed author of The Sky Is Everywhere will leave you breathless and teary and laughing—often all at once. Printz Award Winner Stonewall Honor Book "A wild, beautiful, and profoundly moving novel. Jandy Nelson’s writing is so electric, so alive, her pages practically glow in the dark." —Ransom Riggs, New York Times bestselling author of Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children and Hollow City "Jandy Nelson is a rare, explosive talent, and one of the best writers working today. Her prose is vivid, breathtaking, and drenched in passion, and her stories remind me why words can change the world." —Tahereh Mafi, New York Times bestselling author of the Shatter Me series. "I love this book. Jandy Nelson is my new writing hero. Read this book. She'll be your favorite author as well." —Holly Goldberg Sloan, New York Times bestselling author of Counting by 7s "Jandy Nelson’s writing is poetic and mesmerizing. More importantly, Nelson weaves a novel that seeps into your bones like fire on a cold day . . . I’ll Give You the Sun is a novel that promises a story like nothing else and then delivers it.” —Garret Freymann-Weyr, author of Printz Honor book, My Heartbeat "This is a stunning, artfully woven story. My heart burst open at the blazing, unforgettable end. Magnificent." —Nova Ren Suma, author of Imaginary Girls and 17 & Gone "An extraordinary book! I've never read anything like it. Lyrical-unique-passionate-magical-tragic-hopeful—Nelson's characters will fly off the page and into your heart." —Nancy Garden, author of Annie on my Mind From the Hardcover edition.
Category: Young Adult Fiction

I Ll Give You The Sun Nyp

Author : Jandy Nelson
ISBN : 1680655124
Genre :
File Size : 84.40 MB
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The New York Times Bestselling story of first love, family, loss, and betrayal for fans of John Green, Jenny Offill, Emma Straub, and Rainbow Rowell " We were all heading for each other on a collision course, no matter what. Maybe some people are just meant to be in the same story. "" " At first, Jude and her twin brother are NoahandJude; inseparable. Noah draws constantly and is falling in love with the charismatic boy next door, while daredevil Jude wears red-red lipstick, cliff-dives, and does all the talking for both of them. Years later, they are barely speaking. Something has happened to change the twins in different yet equally devastating ways . . . but then Jude meets an intriguing, irresistible boy and a mysterious new mentor. The early years are Noah s to tell; the later years are Jude s. But they each have only half the story, and if they can only find their way back to one another, they ll have a chance to remake their world. This radiant, award-winning novel from the acclaimed author of "The Sky Is Everywhere" will leave you breathless and teary and laughing often all at once. Printz Award Winner Stonewall Honor Book "A wild, beautiful, and profoundly moving novel. Jandy Nelson s writing is so electric, so alive, her pages practically glow in the dark." Ransom Riggs, "New York Times" bestselling author of "Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children" and "Hollow City " "Jandy Nelson is a rare, explosive talent, and one of the best writers working today. Her prose is vivid, breathtaking, and drenched in passion, and her stories remind me why words can change the world." Tahereh Mafi, "New York Times" bestselling author of the "Shatter Me" series. "I love this book. Jandy Nelson is my new writing hero. Read this book. She'll be your favorite author as well." Holly Goldberg Sloan, "New York Times" bestselling author of "Counting by 7s " "Jandy Nelson s writing is poetic and mesmerizing. More importantly, Nelson weaves a novel that seeps into your bones like fire on a cold day . . . "I ll Give You the Sun" is a novel that promises a story like nothing else and then delivers it. Garret Freymann-Weyr, author of Printz Honor book, "My Heartbeat " "This is a stunning, artfully woven story. My heart burst open at the blazing, unforgettable end. Magnificent." Nova Ren Suma, author of "Imaginary Girls" and "17 & Gone" "An extraordinary book! I've never read anything like it. Lyrical-unique-passionate-magical-tragic-hopeful Nelson's characters will fly off the page and into your heart." Nancy Garden, author of "Annie on my Mind" "From the Hardcover edition.""

Hand Wash Cold

Author : Karen Maezen Miller
ISBN : 9781577319054
Genre : Body, Mind & Spirit
File Size : 48.56 MB
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It’s easy to think that meaning, fulfillment, and bliss are “out there,” somewhere outside of our daily routine. But in this playful yet profound reflection on awareness, the compelling voice of a contemporary woman reveals the happiness at the bottom of the laundry basket, the love in the kitchen sink, and the peace possible in one’s own backyard. Follow Karen Maezen Miller through youthful ambition and self-absorption, beyond a broken marriage, and into the steady calm of a so-called ordinary life. In her hands, household chores and caregiving tasks become opportunities for self-examination, lessons in relationship, and liberating moments of selflessness. With attention, it’s the little things — even the unexpected, unpleasant, and unwanted things — that count.
Category: Body, Mind & Spirit

My Cold Female Boss

Author : Mi MangXiaoDouShi
ISBN : 9781647620141
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 63.93 MB
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A peerless expert, hidden in the city, yet didn't want to be forced into marriage by the CEO of an ice mountain beauty. From then on, his luck with the flowers never stopped ...
Category: Fiction

Flaming Dove The Demon Angel

Author : Daniel Arenson
ISBN : 9780986602818
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 85.61 MB
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Outcast from Hell. Banished from Heaven. Lost on Earth.The battle of Armageddon was finally fought... and ended with no clear victor. Upon the mountain, the armies of Hell and Heaven beat each other into a bloody, uneasy standstill, leaving the Earth in ruins. Armageddon should have ended with Heaven winning, ushering in an era of peace. That's what the prophecies said. Instead, the two armies--one of angels, one of demons--hunker down in the scorched planet, lick their wounds, and gear up for a prolonged war with no end in sight.In this chaos of warring armies and ruined landscapes, Laila doesn't want to take sides. Her mother was an angel, her father a demon; she is outcast from both camps. And yet both armies need her, for with her mixed blood, Laila can become the ultimate spy... or ultimate soldier. As the armies of Heaven and Hell pursue her, Laila's only war is within her heart--a struggle between her demonic and heavenly blood.
Category: Fiction

A Little Star S Dream

Author : Patricia A. Dripps - Funkhouser
ISBN : 9781469106120
Genre : Juvenile Fiction
File Size : 54.59 MB
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This story is about a Little Star, his friends and family. Little Star only wants his parents proud of him. Unfortunately, Little Star he hasnt figured out yet, in order to get things we want, we must be willing to work hard and earn them. Little Star is too impatient to wait. But he finds out short cuts, lead to trouble. Little Star finds enough trouble along the way. Now he believes hell never feel his parents love ever again. He begins daydreaming, because in his dreams he feels safe. He decides maybe it is time for him to go out on his own, and become a great explorer finding something really big. Then his parents would have to be proud of him, and they could hold their heads high again in Stardust. Then Little Star decides hes going to run away things at home had spiraled out of control now. He is always in trouble. Little Star decides after a sequence of events he is going to run away. But first he tells his best friend, and asks his friend to come with him. From that point on many things happen. But you will see this story has a happy ending. And think its time to let you discover all of the laughter and tears for very happy a surprising ending.
Category: Juvenile Fiction

The Devastation To Greatness

Author : Chi Sun Rhee
ISBN : 9781622873142
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 33.79 MB
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Chi Sun Rhee’s work of four volumes, The Phantom of Greatness, is a masterpiece of twentieth century epic fiction. It consists of Book One (The Phantom of Greatness), Book Two (The Way to Greatness), Book Three (The Devastation to Greatness), and Book Four (The Triumph to Greatness). Like a thunderbolt in broad daylight, the tempestuous North Korean People’s Army (NKPA) roars down into S. Korea and pushes the U.S. Stationary Army and Republic of Korean Army (ROKA) to the surrounding Naktong Perimeter. Chief Police Kim Byunghong with his police troops must retreat to Pusan. He beseeches Mija to go with him because he forebodes Mija’s imminent danger, but his attempt fails. Being a wartime governor chosen by the People’s Committee of the S. Cholla Province, Changyul prevents people from bloody vengeance among civilians and cooperates with the Sixth Division Commander Pang of the NKPA. Mija works as a teacher at the Attached Middle School. Both the school principal and head of Chosun University Student’s Association force Mija to be in important leadership posts. She has persistently been resisting accepting their menace. The UN Forces’ Inchon Landing severs long supply lines of the NKPA and drives the NKPA out of S. Korea to the north, into the depth of a freezing snowy winter. UN Forces including the ROKA are trapped by the outnumbered ambushed Chinese Red Army. Gov. Rhee asks his trustworthy relative Mansin to find a hideout for Ilyoung and Mija at his place until the return of Chief Police Kim Byunghong. Sending all the communist leaders to the north, Gov. Rhee shares his lot with his sinking ship. Mansin, at the last minute, betrays Gov. Rhee and sells his soul for the price of Mija and Ilyoung’s life to the police. Author Chi Sun Rhee is a retired gynecologist/obstetrician. She is the mother of two sons and a daughter and is the author of several acclaimed novels. Her desire to write this unusual history of Korea in a four-part series of books, is a dream she has had for several years. A resident of Toledo Ohio, where she resides with her husband, John, she pursues gardening as her primary avocation. Keywords: Korea, History, Culture, Japanese, Invasion, Romance, Fiction, Documentary, Struggle, Education, Family, Youth, War, Korean War
Category: Fiction

A Collection Of Poetry

Author : DeEtta Turner
ISBN : 1467871834
Genre : Poetry
File Size : 76.86 MB
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I have been writing poetry since I was a teenager. My ability to write is a God given talent. My poetry was inspired by perhaps by a serene scene in a park, or something as simple as a picture on a greeting card, and at times, just my imagination. I married young, had three beautiful chrildren, who gave me seven precious Grandchildren,and three just as wonderful Great Grandchildren. I have been blessed. In my collection of poetry, by collection I mean these are my favorite ones.You will always read a story in my poems,and will find rather humorous subjects which could be read to a child. and then you will find purely nostalgic poems that relate to the era I lived in. You will also find some rather deep ones, and some religious poems. I think and hope you will be delighted with this book so I would suggest you find a favorite place to be, grab a cappachino and enjoy! DeEtta Turner
Category: Poetry

Too Bright The Sun

Author : Lazlo Ferran
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 49.12 MB
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*** Get 3 BOOKS FREE > *** Book 1 Running: The Alien in the Mirror is FREE on Google Play. A man hell-bent on revenge for the death of his friend, in battle! Seeking revenge for the death of a friend ten long years ago, Major Jake Nanden has pursued his own personal demons with an almost religious fervour through life and through battle. He is a soldier so highly decorated that his fame reaches far beyond the desolate moon Io where he is stationed. His victories in the Jupiter Wars are hollow though, for he is a man scared of his own soul. His life seems to be a trap from which he cannot escape. His is the Replicant Company, and replicants are despised by all. Likened to a cross between Blade Runner and Paths of Glory, you simply must read this beautifully constructed, intensely dark and powerful Science Fiction tale-with-a-twist if you love Phillip K. Dick and Isaac Asimov. From the author: I have long had a soft-spot for noir films so I decided to write a noir science fiction novel. I also love Isaac Asimov, Arthur C Clarke and Phillip K Dick - particularly Blade Runner, all for their quirky stories but deep-rooted scientific authenticity. The result is Too Bright the Sun, which I am very proud of. Ultimately, I think it is a very beautiful story of one replicant struggle for identity and the surprising outcome. If you love character-driven science fiction, you will love the twist at the end. Volume III in the Iron Series: Worlds Like Dust will be published early in 2014 Categories: fiction, science fiction, thriller, first contact, clones, starship, mlitary. Sample It’s been over ten years since Gary Enquine sent my friend Przeltski to a certain death. Not one day has gone by without the memories of that battle prowling my mind like a waking nightmare. Many times I have woken in a cold-sweat thinking about it. I will not rest, cannot rest, until Gary Enquine has been brought to justice and been forced to pay for his cowardice. Ten years; it’s a long time but I can be patient. Personal journal entry of Jake Nanden for 2101, Feb 3. 1. *** Chapter One The little voice asked, after peering out of another portal at an earlier moment in his life, “Is it possible to time travel for I perceive that I can?” “Only after you leave this life,” said a voice, high and mighty. Then the little voice changed its tone for it was angry. “But that’s not fair! For, the one thing I wish I can’t have.” “Until you leave this life,” said the high voice. “Yes.” “Then now you can see advantages to moving beyond this life you have.” And the little voice perceived that all his previous angers, about matters of the flesh and daily living were not proper angers. A proper anger is the anger that desirable things lay beyond the portal of death. And so from that moment on his struggles to survive, to fight against the current, seemed improper to him and yet he could not help himself. Two of the Ionian Militia sat on top of Przeltski, ripping his helmet off, while another aimed his laser at his eyes. In the vacuum of Io’s atmosphere, Przeltski was mouthing the words, ‘save me’ but it was too late. I knew I couldn’t and had to try and save myself. I was turning to get away but I could still see his eyes half closing, then looking up and his mouth rapidly shaping the words of the ‘Hail Mary.’ The IM would turn their lasers down to the lowest setting and first shoot out the eyes, then take off the arms and if he was lucky then they would aim for his heart. If he was not lucky, the dismemberment could go on and on for as long as they wanted. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t. I struggled and struggled and then I was awake and knew it was the nightmare. *** An eye opened. It was mine. The blurry horizon crystallised into the edge of the pillow as I realised where I was: Io. Being a commander has its perks, one being your own private cabin, but it was small and cramped. I closed my eye, reached up for the ledge of the sill above me and hauled myself out of bed. Feeling for the sanicube-handle opposite the bed, I released the cube from its folded position against the wall, selected ‘L’ and stepped in but then had to open my eyes to use it without spilling. A tube dispensed a sterilising solution onto my hands and the stream of water became hot air to dry them. Yawning enough for tears to clear my eyes, I took one step over to the n-gen, on the white work surface above the bed. I selected ‘Fried,’ then ‘Coffee, black’ and clicked on, the com centre. I had disabled the voice but I could see the display said, “2101, Feb 4. 2 – 06.30 I. 2 messages. Download?” I waited for the ding that would tell me my breakfast was ready. I knew I had just had another weird dream but I couldn’t quite remember it now. I tried. The n-gen dinged and I opened the white door to reveal the plate of hot, fried food and a mug of black coffee. I looked at the food dubiously and lifted the dark blue mug to my lips. The caffeine rush to my head felt good. Putting my left hand on my hip, I arched my back and then looked down at the pallid skin stretched over my late-twenties belly. ‘Bigger,’ I thought. ‘But only slightly.’ I picked up the plate of fried – bacon, eggs, potatoes, beans, fried-bread and mushrooms – all preselected as my personal preferences and lifted some mushrooms and potatoes to my mouth with the forkette. My buds tested the taste; it had that slight hint of mint or something metallic about it. “Damn,” I said out loud. For a few days now breakfast had tasted like this and I wasn’t sure if it was a fault with the n-gen or this batch of plasma. My n-gen was civvy and another one of the perks allowed to commanders; I’d had it for nearly five years and it had been everywhere with me. Normally they didn’t last longer than three years. Balancing the plate in my left hand, I picked up the remote, pressed ‘Monitor,’ chose ‘North elevation,’ then ‘R’ for recording and ‘Dec 9, 11.00,’ morning on the day we had arrived, a date I chose out of habit. I then pointed it at the panel, shaped like a window, on the narrow wall behind the pillow of the bed and it was filled with the image of the ground to the north of the command-post. Just like a window, you could even see ‘around’ the window frame if you wished to put your head that close to it. Yellow and reddish sulphur stretched away between the rocky silicates, to a jagged horizon a few hundred yards above the level of the command-post and perhaps two miles away. In places the silicate rock was white and in others a beautiful emerald green. If it hadn’t been for the bright purplish glow of the morning aurora above, I could have believed I was in the Mojave Desert on Earth, which was in a memory I had of visiting my grandparents once. Taking bigger mouthfuls, with my nostrils closed to avoid the nasty after-taste, I downed the breakfast and alternated my gaze between the landscape on the wall and the contents of the room. I took in the half-finished bottle of vodka next to the empty glass on the narrow table across the gang-way from my bed and the open notepad next to it with a few scrawled lines at the top of a new page. Writing pulp crime-novels was my weakness, or my hobby, depending on one’s generosity. I had finished the fried so I continued sipping black coffee and put on the Trion head-band, activating it by flicking a tiny black switch next to my left temple. “Record,” I said. Most company commanders, at least in USAC, were obliged to record their activities for viewing by paid subscribers; part of a deal USAC had made with the Amtel branch of RA. Most hated doing it but at least you could choose what to record and I never gave the leaches anything of real interest. The recording was made by a cam in the comms centre so a leach couldn’t see what was on my heads-up. “Download,” I said. A red light flickered once on the com centre. On the heads-up display in front of my left eye scrolled the first of two messages: Contact: Jena Ω “Hi Jake. I know you’re trying to make me jealous by not replying to my last messages but then again you could just be under attack and I’m supposed to be the rational woman so I can deal with that. I might just be too busy this week to record anything for you too. My boss wants me to prepare a legal-briefing for our merger with a company which has connections with Riccard-Amtel! Can you believe it? Oh I know we try not to bring business into our relationship but I couldn’t help myself. The consequences could be so far-reaching. Promotion, relocation. Who knows? Umm. In answer to your question last time; okay I’ve held out for quite a while haven’t I but yes, women do feel that sometimes. I suppose... Tell me more about what you do... Not during the day (with the boyz and grrls) but after. Are you still writing? Chloe misses u too. xx” End. Contact: Mary “Hi darling Mum here. How’s the (censored) winter? I know this will probably be censored but I don’t care. There’s lots to tell you but I'll keep it short for now. I’m just off to a local council meeting and later there's an art exhibition, Raccauld, which Justine and I are going to. Actually I’m meeting her for coffee at lunchtime. I think she wants to do some shopping. You know what she’s like. You cannot stop her once hubby has been paid. The Gazette had a nice photo of you the other day which I have stuck in the photo album. You’re a hero around here. The young boys talk of nothing else but the Iron Cross, I hear them when we go for picnics by the river. Oh yes and Robert O’Flannery has been elected Mayor again and has approved redevelopment of the area by the river. Office block I believe. Such a shame. One thing I was going to mention. A peculiar thing happened the other day...” There was a loud banging on the cabin-door which made me flinch. “Stop record,” I said and ignored the rest of the message in the heads-up. I took two steps to the door and opened it. Sergeant Stone’s chiseled face, topped with a brown flat-top and with shaving foam around its cheeks, confronted me. He was dressed only from the waist down. “Yes Sergeant?” I tried to sound patient. “Sir. Seismic activity detected 700 yards east of perimeter. About 100 feet down.” “Okay. Pick four men and get packed. I’ll be with you in five.” “Sir? We can investigate if you want. You don’t need to come.” “No but I want to come. I need the exercise.” “Sir.” There was no salute. I was informal with my troops most of the time in combat situations, especially the officers and Stone in particular, who had been with me a long time. *** “Lieutenant Osei, you have the comm.” We were in the port airlock five minutes later, myself unshaven, all in full-combat gear and Sergeant Stone handed me a Trion X.50. As the red light moved to ‘Gravity-local,’ we all grabbed the hand rails. Gravity on Io was about one fifth of that on Earth or about the same as the Moon and without the S-Grav, the rocking motion of the lift as it took us down to the surface would throw us about. The hatch opened and I led the team out into the moonlit night. I could feel the crunch of sulphur and silicates under my boots but all I could hear was my breath and the steady beep, every two seconds of the uplink indicator. We used a two-step canter to move over the terrain in a defensive pattern of two columns of three, ten feet apart. It was enough distance to give covering fire in all directions without hitting each other if needed. What we were looking for was any sign of a drill rig at the indicated distance of 700 yards. The Ionian Militia (see Appendix for more on the Ionian Militia) normally didn’t have the resources for automated rigs so there would be two or three poor bastards manning it, armed with A.M. 27s most probably. They would be targeting our S-Grav singularity, 1000 feet below the MCS – a known Mob. Command Station weakness. Our MCS was fitted with S-Grav Type 4 which was a lot more stable than the Type 3; its governor was accurate to 14-10 Volts, which it had to be to keep the singularity weak enough to be safe but strong enough to work effectively. *** Database download on the Ionian Militia: The Ionian Militia (IM) was formed by miners on Io, moon of Jupiter on June 1 2089. Their living conditions were already touch but falling iron prices led to smaller pay-rises and longer hours. They went on strike and in the long summer of 2080 Earth News bulletins were full of items about iron shortages and skirmishes between USAC troops and miners on IO. Led by Richard Ortega, the miners demanded some concessions, most prominent being that their families could live with them. This was granted but shortly after their families arrived, the miners were subjected to further pay-cuts and reductions in supply of essential equipment. From the Ionian Iron Miners Union was formed the Ionian Miner's Union, led by Ortega. This powerful union then began receiving equipment and other supplies directly from the Rebel Alliance on Earth, a move that was seen as highly provocative by the USAC forces, then in administrative control on Io and then attempted to block these supplies and suppress resistance using overpowering force. From the Ionian Miner's Union Ortega then formed the Ionian Militia, a small but highly trained and well-equipped force which operated using guerrilla tactics against USAC. The force gradually grew in size and strength until, ten years later, they are a significant force on Io, controlling one half of its surface. Only a few mines remained loyal to USAC, raising Solar System prices of iron and putting an end to the building of the great J stations. End Download. *** Micro-singularities were inherently unstable anyway for safety reasons but the governor itself was the only real vulnerability in the Type 4. By necessity it was located in the column only a few inches from the singularity and if it could be damaged by a small explosion, then there was a good chance the singularity would run away and if it grew rather than shrank, the result would be a massive explosion. Several MCSs had been knocked out this way. The militia squad wouldn’t be a problem but I wanted to be fully alert. My vision was still a bit blurry and I blinked a few times and squeezed my lids shut to lubricate my eyes. My stubble itched on the fabric inside the helmet. 500 yards out I raised my hand and we stopped. I pointed to the Sergeant and two of the corporals in their tan-coloured combat suits and motioned for them to move south of the target location which appeared to be behind a slight bluff. I motioned to the other two officers to follow me north. I was sure Stone would spread his men out a little, standard procedure, and I did the same as we flanked the bluff. I thought I could see a faint plume of yellow dust rising, the usual tell-tale sign of a drill-rig, but it was very faint and I wasn’t sure. I crouched down and tapped the shoulder of the soldier in front of me. I pointed at the faint plume and he turned to face me and he nodded. We tried not to kick up any dust ourselves as we rounded the shoulder of the bluff and the soldier in front held up his hand and stopped. This was it. They were there. His gloved fingers counted down three, two, one and then he moved forward, aiming his X.50 at something as I followed him, pointing mine in the same direction. As I emerged into the dip behind the bluff I saw what I had expected, a low wall of sulphur-dirt around a square dugout, perhaps ten feet along each side, with a cover slung over it to collect the dust. There was one helmet peering through the gap, straight at us. I saw the red beam from his A.M. 27 strike the helmet of the corporal and then the sighting beam turned green as the plasma shot was fired. But he was too slow. The corporal had already jumped, done a one-eighty and was coming down with his X.50 blazing green. I fired too. The poor armour of the Ionian’s helmet couldn’t withstand the X.50 rounds. It split and little globules of red blood floated out from under the cover. The intercom crackled. It was Stone. “Our man taken down sir. Going in for a look.” That meant there had been another guard on the south-side and he was now disabled. The rear guards stayed back as the leading four of us reached the entrance to the dugout, on its east-side and Stone poked his X.50 inside. He immediately backed out, saying “Two grubs,” over the intercom. By now I could barely see the dugout entrance for yellow dust and we waited for the two miners to emerge from the cloud. They came out with their hands up and Stone made them turn through 360 degrees before making them sit up against a rock a few yards east of the entrance. While Stone, recognisable by the over-sized dagger he usually wore, stood with his X.50 pointing at the two prisoners, one of his team dipped into the entrance to check all equipment was switched off before placing a small charge. During daylight hours you could not normally see the faces of other men through the visors because the filters would give off glare from the sun but I could see the two faces of the Ionians. One looked full of hate but the other looked strangely sullen, scared even. I decided to question him and not the other. I tapped his wrist, where intercom units used to be, and drew 220 in the air with my finger, the standard Red Cross frequency. Of course he had to activate this inside the helmet verbally and might not choose to do so. I turned my frequency to 200 and waited patiently. After a minute or more the intercom crackled and I heard a sullen, “Yes.” “Greetings Ionian,” I said jovially. “It’s your lucky day. You are definitely going to live and you might retain all your limbs if you answer a few simple questions.” “Smith, Corporal, 00001,” he said. His name, rank and serial number included the obligatory 00001. All Ionians used the same serial number. In effect they had no serial numbers which they felt confused USAC. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the other Ionian glanced nervously at Smith, several times. Is he afraid this one will reveal something? “Well Mr. Smith, Corporal Smith if you prefer...” I was digging and waited for a response. “Smith will do.” “Mm. You don’t seem so attached to the Militia as your friend there. How long have you been mining?” “A few months,” came the terse reply. The other Ionian winced. “Uh-huh. Have you targeted a Type 4 before?” The other Ionian looked surprised. “I dunno. Maybe.” “Maybe? It’s the latest type. What sort of charge were you planning to use?” “What do you mean? I don’t have to answer these questions. Look, if you want to get it over and done with that’s fine by me.” “What charge?” I made it sound angry and pointed my X.50 at his upper right arm. “Hey! Wait. I dunno. Four pounds, maybe. We hadn’t decided.” “Oh. I don’t think so. Okay sonny. So I know you are not a miner so that raises a serious question. What are you doing here?” Interesting. Is he an observer? A news reporter? Not sure. “No. Listen. I am just a miner. Okay so I have only been doing it a week. This is my first time. Training courses are hard to come by these days.” He laughed. “An ironic sense of humour... I like it! Shows intelligence. Maybe too much intelligence for a grub.” My men were gathered around now, tuned to 220, listening in. I could hear their breathing and their smirks from time to time. I tapped the shoulder of the nearest to me. “Stay on the proper frequency, corporal.” “He’s undercover sir,” said one of the other corporals. I recognised the voice; Opinnskey. A bit of a joker by all accounts but clever. “Undercover Opinnskey? Why do you say that?” “Look at those arms sir. He hasn’t ever lifted an A.M. in his life. Daddy is probably a high-up, I reckon.” He squeezed Smith’s scrawny arms and the others laughed. The other Ionian looked scared now. “Maybe he is. Maybe he is. Maybe his Daddy is high up in the army.” I thought I saw just the slightest flicker of his eyelid through the visor. “Did you want to see some active service? Blow up an MCS to impress a girl? I bet that would get you a few nights in bed with that pretty girl.” He looked uncomfortable. “Okay Stone. Take care of the other one.” Stone turned the dial on his X.50 to minimum ballistic charge and pulled back on the trigger. He aimed the red bead at the Ionian’s right shin. He pulled back further on the trigger and a green shot of plasma pierced the Ionians shin, leaving a neat black hole for a second which quickly ejected red bubbles before the suit sealed itself. I could see the Ionian was screaming but we couldn’t hear him. Stone repeated the shot on the other shin and then on both forearms. We couldn’t take prisoners and the Ionians wouldn’t take prisoners. But we didn’t want to kill so we just disabled the soldiers. Most of them would never see active service again so we were doing them a favour really. Their medics would pick them up quite quickly once we had broadcast the standard Red Cross distress signal for them. Of course some of the other USAC Companies were less lenient. I could see Smith was grimacing in anticipation of the pain that would surely come. Perhaps he thought he could get a lighter punishment. “Well?” I asked. “Well, what?” he said. “What's the explanation for you being here?” “I've told you everything. Just get it over with.” I crouched down and looked into his eyes. I could see a different kind of fear there now. It wasn’t fear for his physical safety. “Take the other one away Stone.” I gestured for the rest of our men to go with him and I waited while the writhing Ionian was dragged around the corner of the bluff. I spoke to Smith. “Okay now we are alone. Anything you tell me will have been extracted under duress. You won’t have been responsible. I used a dose of SPA on you okay? Now all I want do know is; who's your father?” “Okay. I will tell you something, something big but you gotta give me something. Leave my arms okay. I heard some guys lose the use of their fingers. I need them, you know?” “Okay. I tell you what. I will just lightly graze one arm but I better hit the other one or people will be suspicious. Don’t worry. I know just where to hit it. I can reduce the pain too. Deal?” I looked at him. “Deal.” He already looked like he regretted it. “Shit. Okay. My father is Anatolian Smith.” “And who is he?” “You haven’t heard of him?” He seemed astonished. “He is the the General, effectively, of the Ionian Militia for the whole of the northern hemisphere of Io. Nothing happens up here without his say-so” I forced myself to breathe deeply. This was a supreme stroke of luck and I was having trouble breathing. Sounding calm, I asked, “So what is it you were gonna to tell me?” “You want to know something big. I will tell you. There is an offensive planned. We have twelve new SU 401s and they are going to hit your mines at Ruwa Patera. Soon. I think maybe next month.” “SU 401s?” “You didn’t know that did you?” “Twelve? When did you say? In March?” “As far as I know.” “How? What weapons? Will there be ground troops? What is the strategic objective in all this?” “I don’t know all that. I told you what I know.” “Okay. I am going to give you a little ‘general.’ I’ll put it in your feed now. Relax.” I took a small plastic container out of my Medi-pouch and took off the lid. I screwed the end to the connector of the emergency intake on his respiratory unit and pressed the button to release the general anaesthetic into his system. I waited for a minute. Then I stood up, aimed my X.50 at his shin and fired a shot through his tibia. A neat black hole was filled with little red bubbles which drifted out into the thin Ionian atmosphere. Then a silver liquid, the sealant, trickled into the hole before it finally sealed the suit, leaving just a few red and silver bubbles floating away. He moaned but he didn’t scream. “Are you right-handed?” I asked. After a moment he answered, “Yes,” through clenched teeth. I fired a shot through his left forearm and then, as I had said I would, I grazed his right arm with the final shot. There was a lot more blood so I called Stone to get one of his men over to put a tourniquet on him. I stood up. Well. This is a turn-up. At last a real piece of luck. A chance for real glory, this is. With this I get promoted another rank, maybe two, and then we will see. A cold thrill ran through my spine but for fear of it reaching my finger tips and making me dance around like a fool, I confined it to quarters. We detonated the charge, after dragging the two casualties a safe distance away, and started back for base. There was some commotion off to my right; it looked as if two of the officers were arguing on a private link, one of them stamping his foot and shaking his X.50 but I ignored them. I wondered what the landscape would look like with trees, or even some grass. Riccard was rumoured to be working on a strain of grass that could grow in these conditions. For a moment I fancied myself as the governor of Io, with plans to geo-form it in some way but I caught myself. My life’s path had been decided for me a long time ago and creativity wasn’t a big part of it. The rest of my waking hours that day were spent communicating with USAC Command, first through my superior officer, Lieutenant Colonel Roanald, and then with Central Intel. Of course at first they were all skeptical about the provenance of my information but they had to admit it was brilliant if thought up on the spur of the moment. They confirmed the identity and rank of Anatolian Smith. Finally, around 20.00 hours, a decision was taken. I was to lead a task force of three companies in a covert mission to prevent the taking of Ruwa Patera, close to Anderstown, capital of the USAC territories on Io; covert because it was hoped we could surgically remove much of the cream of the Ionian Militia in this one operation if they weren’t expecting us.
Category: Fiction

Night Of The Sun

Author : Mike McAndrew
ISBN : 9781304627674
Genre : Biography & Autobiography
File Size : 45.94 MB
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From the first days of his life, Mike begins to doubt and question authority. From Santa Claus to the Catholic Church to the Selective Service. His quest eventually leads to a dramatic ending in the courts.
Category: Biography & Autobiography

Midnight Sun S Magic

Author : Betty Neels
ISBN : 1459205189
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 84.48 MB
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Finding romance didn't seem likely in a place like Spitsbergen, so close to the North Pole. Yet when Annis went there for a short time to work, she found herself falling in love with a handsome Norwegian. But the romance was brief and disappointing, so when Dutchman Jake van Germent asked her to marry him, Annis was more than pleased to accept. He wasn't handsome, but he was everything else she could possibly want! Jake knew about her recent affair, though, and Annis found she couldn't make Jake believe that she had married him for love....
Category: Fiction

How I Feel

Author : Horace Harun Arrad
ISBN : 9781477115961
Genre : Poetry
File Size : 50.99 MB
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Category: Poetry

Sun Signs

Author : Shelley Hrdlitschka
ISBN : 9781554695447
Genre : Young Adult Fiction
File Size : 30.61 MB
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Unable to attend school while she battles cancer, fifteen-year-old Kaleigh Wyse tries to complete her classes online by correspondence. Developing a science project on astrology, Kaleigh enlists other online learners as study participants. What starts as a collaborative and supportive project based on the scientific method, slowly becomes unwieldy and then flawed when it is apparent that all the project participants are hiding vital clues about their identities. As Kaleigh struggles with the effects of chemotherapy and radiation, she is forced to examine the assumptions she has made about others and the manner in which she presents herself to the world.
Category: Young Adult Fiction

Sun Kissed Baby

Author : Patricia Hagan
ISBN : 9781459240278
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 51.15 MB
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ARE YOU THE DADDY? Tragedy had left Carlee Denton to raise her best friend’sbaby, and her search for the little boy’s father had led straight to Nick Starke. But she couldn’t risk telling the handsome, wealthy orange grove owner that her new baby was his, too, until she knew what he wanted…. And everything, from the soulful way he touched her—kissed her—to the way he played with little Scotty, told her that this man wanted her. He wanted them. But was he really Scotty’s dad? Carlee wondered if she’d found—fallen for—the wrong man. Whatever the truth was, Carlee knew it was too late to turn back from the one man who could open her heart….
Category: Fiction

Dark Of The Sun

Author : Chelsea Quinn Yarbro
ISBN : 9781429996716
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 84.28 MB
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Chelsea Quinn Yarbro's vampire hero returns to Transylvania in Dark of the Sun, a novel in the Count Saint-Germain series It is the 6th century of the common era. The vampire Saint-Germain, known in this time as Zangi-Ragozh, is peacefully doing business in Asia when the island of Krakatoa explodes in a massive volcanic eruption. Tidal waves swamp harbors hundreds of miles away, destroying trade ships and their cargoes; tons of ash and dirt are flung into the air. In the months to come, the world grows colder and darker as the massive volcanic cloud spreads across the globe, blocking sunlight. Sea trade is ravaged. Crops fail. Livestock, and then people, begin to starve. Disease spreads. Panic rises. As always in times of trouble, foreigners-and the vampire is always a foreigner-become targets. Fleeing toward the West, where he hopes to find safety and sanity, the vampire travels with a nomadic tribe led by Dukkai, a female shaman who soon becomes Zangi-Ragozh's lover. But Zangi-Ragozh's problems are far from over. His vampire nature is discovered by an enemy; he begins to starve; he is betrayed by one he cared deeply for; he loses everything, even his last sack of his native soil. With the True Death looming, Zangi-Ragozh tries to reach sanctuary in his ancient homeland. Transylvania. At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
Category: Fiction

Death Under A Tuscan Sun

Author : Michele Giuttari
ISBN : 9781408706022
Genre : Fiction
File Size : 41.30 MB
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In his dark and fetid prison cell, serial killer Daniele de Robertis plans his retribution. The betrayals he has suffered haunt his dreams until, one night, he escapes. In a small, beautiful village in the Tuscan countryside a prominent lawyer and his wife are murdered. As the police inspect the scene they find nine terrifying photographs: nine women, slaughtered. It is Florentine Police Chief Michele Ferrara's worst nightmare: a case involving the untouchable men and women at the top of Italian society, a dark and powerful cult which knows no bounds, and mounting victims. Amongst a web of obsession, manipulation and violence, Ferrara must face his demons. Death Under a Tuscan Sun is an incredibly gripping and atmospheric work of detective fiction, written with incomparable authenticity by former Florentine police chief Michele Giuttari. Originally published in Italian as Il Cuore Oscuro di Firenze.
Category: Fiction

Land With No Sun

Author : Ted G. Arthurs
ISBN : 9780811741491
Genre : History
File Size : 59.37 MB
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A no-holds-barred, straight-in-your-face account of combat in Vietnam.
Category: History

What I Learned Under The Sun

Author : Kyle L. Coon
ISBN : 145351502X
Genre : Biography & Autobiography
File Size : 73.32 MB
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About the Book Filled with numerous important insights about life and decision-making, What I Learned Under the Sun is a unique memoir that relates the author’s journey in life. In this book, he shares about his life, love, marriage, and various experiences. Along with imparting the bits and pieces of his day to day existence, he also reveals the wonderful lessons he learned to help anyone make the best out of their lives. This book will inspire readers to learn to understand the basic realities of life, how to make the right decision, and how to have faith to be able to face and triumph against the seemingly insurmountable odds. What I Learned Under the Sun will take readers to the unbelievable true life of the author where morals and significant insights await.
Category: Biography & Autobiography