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O Sol Brilhante Demais
Um homem determinado busca vingança pela morte de um amigo, em batalha!
Em busca de vingança pela morte de um amigo há dez anos, Major Jake Nanden tem combatido seus demônios pessoais, com um fervor quase religioso, tanto em sua vida pessoal como em batalha.
Ele é um soldado tão altamente condecorado por bravura que sua fama o precede mesmo além da desolada lua em Júpiter, Io, onde seu batalhão está posicionado. No entanto, suas vitórias nas guerras Jupiterianas lhe parecem vazias, pois ele é um homem que teme sua própria alma.
Sua vida parece ser uma armadilha da qual não consegue escapar. Sendo de um pelotão replicante, que assim como clones, são odiados por todos.
Ataque ao Bunker de Hitler! – A invasão secreta da RAF para bombardear o Bunker de Hitler em Berlim que nunca aconteceu – provavelmente.
Rudolph Eineger foi deixado com o dedo dentro de um corpo morto. Repulsado, retirou-o e limpou-o na túnica preta da SS.
Richard Earlgood, um piloto de caça rebelde da RAF, e Michael Dorfmann, um ambicioso agente duplo da Luftwaffe, planejam um ataque audacioso a luz do dia usando caças Hurricane, carregados nas costas do bombardeiro quadrimotor Stirling para alcançar o quase completo… inexpugnável… Bunker do Führer neste livro de ficção ambientado na Segunda Guerra Mundial.
Anna Styles, uma decodificadora da Estação X, tinha um romance com Dorfmann em Oxford e está sendo forçada a “cuidar” do agente duplo. Ela ainda ama Dorfmann, mas se apaixona por Richard também. Esta invasão singular para bombardear o Bunker de Hitler pode vencer a Guerra, mas apenas um homem pode ganhar o coração de Anna Anna.
A maioria do pessoal de Hitler simplesmente não acredita que tal invasão seja possível, mas um oficial cruel da SS não vai descansar até pegar Dorfmann e derrotar os Britânicos.
Only the Vampire Priests understand the Blood Moon Prophecy: “A drop of His blood fills the cup and brings the Blood Moon Dawn.”
Water makes people forget.
For seven ages They have walked the Earth, seeking a cave of Vampire Priests. For only the Priests know the meaning of the riddle, believed to hold clues to an extremely ancient device that can restore purity to water.
The seventh age will be Their last chance.
Watch the YouTube video trailer below!
“Lots of cool action and drew me well in.” – AHF Magazine.
Excerpt from Orange
After perhaps an hour, during which time Tom began to believe his carriers had unlimited strength, the leader stuck his hand in the air and the column stopped. The snow seemed to ease and then stop altogether. While the strange leader laid out thick, flatbreads and salted rinds of meat on plates, the clouds cleared, and the sun began to warm Tom’s cheeks.
“Not so bad after all!” he joked.
His rescuers crowded around Tom while their leader, the only one wearing a white fur coat, raised a water-bottle to his patient’s lips.
“Good to drink?” Tom asked, feeling nervous.
The leader nodded. Tom tried a sip and found it to be water, clear and refreshing. He waited for any side-effects but only felt better. After eating some bread and meat, he felt better still and grinned. The leader raised Tom up by his shoulders and showed him the terrain ahead. The mountain path dipped down to a dry valley and then rose to a line of green hills. These lacked the icy caps of those Tom could see either side of the mountain they were on, but beyond these, far beyond and just poking through a haze of cloud, he could make out a single peak, rising much higher than any other hill or mountain. Upon its tip he could see no snow but only two jagged peaks, one white and one black.
“Where are we?” Tom asked.
The leader of his rescuers pointed to himself. He said, “Inyan! Inyan!” and pointed to Tom, who replied:
“Tom. Tom Merriweather.”
Inyan shook his head and pointed to tom. “Omacron! Omacron!”
“Omacron!” Inyan’s men echoed.
“No! Tom!” Tom repeated, but Inyan only laughed and moved to Lucky. He repeated his introduction.
“Alan!” Lucky replied. “But everyone calls me Lucky.”
“Alan Lucky!” Inyan replied, laughing. “Tallana!”
“Where are we?” Tom asked.
Inyan shook his head and furrowed his brow. Tom swept his arm around to encompass the whole landscape before them.
“Ah!” Inyan replied. “Atalan’Tea Llantu.”
“Okay. Nice.” Tom asked, “And that?” pointing to the high peak in the far distance.
“Tpatam t’akalliyan,” Inyan replied.
Inyan’s words sounded strange to Tom, guttural, with lots of glottal stops and sudden sounds that surprised him. But he found Inyan’s face reassuring. The stranger had a long face and doleful eyes that seemed sad in some way. His cheeks converged with his mouth in jowls that would make him look more and more like a bulldog as he grew older. But when Inyan smiled, he did so with his whole face, the creases in his cheeks disappearing as if a sun radiated from within. It was a simple, innocent smile that Tom had never seen in anybody, except children, during the war. And in Inyan’s eyes, as well as the apparent sadness, there lay a stillness that seemed like lake that had lain undisturbed for centuries. These features made Tom smile, so that he decided that he liked Inyan. Without thinking Tom reached out and took Inyan’s hand. At first the strange man from this strange land seemed unsure of Tom’s touch, but seeming to come to a decision, he clasped Tom’s fingers within his own and shook Tom’s hand heartily.
“Peroturnakar!” Inyan said, pointing to the sky.
“I’ve heard that word before!” Tom replied, not understanding the significance of the sky.
“Peroturnakar!” Inyan said, looking sad.
Tom looked up again and thought he saw something strange through the clouds. It seemed to him that high up there, above the clouds, the sky consisted of rock, faint but hanging impossibly over them and mountainous landscape.
Excerpt from Blue My brother had a ball. When you tried to kick it, it moved away from you. I grew tired trying to hit the thing. “Don’t think about kicking it,” he told me. “The ball is designed to read your intentions. Think about nothing.” It felt very satisfying when I finally got a foot on it and sent it into the back of the net. A ‘beeping’ interrupted his memories. So I have been asleep?
He tried to open one eye, but it felt gummed up. Screwing his face up to make tears, he eventually managed to open one, only to see a panel, which proved to be the source of the ‘beeps.’ A sign flashed, ‘Hello Omah,’ in in red letters. You’re in waking up phase. I’m administering stimulants. Please drink the water.’
“Oh great! Thanks! I hate cryo-sleep!”
A distant hum occurred at the same time as his cryo-chamber began to incline. The glass-lidded container, little more than a box, began to raise at his head’s end and continued inclining until he lay at a forty-five-degree angle. The lid opened and straps released his arms and legs. He felt sharp stabs of pain as a needle retracted from each arm, but didn’t have the energy to say:
Omah remembered the water and tried to reach for a cup in a tray section of the chamber’s rim. But his arm wouldn’t move. And then he noticed how black the water in the cup looked, blacker than ink. It seemed warm and inviting and seemed to expand as he looked at it. He felt he could jump right into it, Deep within the liquid, far, far away, there seemed to be a faint light.
It came as a relief to see an attractive, blue woman approaching him in a white jumpsuit. But when she smiled he saw that her eye sockets looked completely empty, not empty as in the eyes are covered over, but as in a black depth, like a liquid, filled her sockets, a depth so fathomless that Omah lost his balance trying to find their bottom. He slid out of the chamber, teetered for a moment on numb feet and began to fall forward, onto a glass cabinet of surgical instruments. A moment stretched out for what seemed minutes, allowing Omah to think:
“What a strange place to die!”
Omah had no control of his feet, so it came as a complete surprise when the trolley, upon which the cabinet sat, rolled out of the way just before his face hit the pane of glass. The trolley crashed into a wall shattering the cabinet and sending glass shards skittering across the floor while Omah fell in a painful heap on the floor.
“Oh shit!” the blue woman cried, hastily turning Omah over. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I think so!” Omah gasped. “I … don’t know how that happened!”
“I know how you fell – toxins in your muscles making them unusable. I don’t know how the hell you kicked that thing out of the way!”
“Well, it didn’t move on its own! Your foot must have kicked it. Freakiest thing I ever saw! I better let the others know what happened. Let me get you into a chair!”
Excerpt from Red
Omah’s head-up display on the visor of his helmet indicated to him the likelihood of criminal activity with a coloured halo around each citizen; blue for law-abiding, white for untouchables, red for Scum. He had always had a visceral tendency for violence:
His mother thought he had a look like a, “Whipped dog.”
His father told him to, “Keep his collar clean.”
The funny thing was that he had never seen a dog.
He took another look at the row of columns under the Hall on the far side of the street and suddenly couldn’t remember what he had just been thinking. Not only that, but he had the feeling something had changed irrevocably.
A puddle near his feet dragged his attention away from the display in his visor. The more he looked, the more he felt as if he were being sucked into the black water. It seemed endlessly deep, but a dim light, like a lantern lost at the bottom of the sea, seemed to beckon him down. Without thinking Omah stretched his gloved hand toward the puddle, but a boot stepped in the puddle, sending ripples out across its surface. It was only water. Omah looked up, feeling angry, and stared into the empty eye sockets of a man. Where his eyes should have been, only endless, dark emptiness could be seen. There was no light at the back of the eyes at all. It’s repulsiveness shocked Omah, making him jump back.
“Look out!” the man screamed.
A car’s horn blared, somewhere close behind Omah. He heard the screech of brakes as he leaped for the sidewalk. An instant later, the fender of a black car entered the space where his body had been. The car accelerated away before Omah could get its license plates.
“Thanks!” Omah said, scrambling to his feet and stretching out his hand to the stranger.
“No problem! You nearly got hit! I just wanted to ask the way to the Mayor’s Office?”
“Oh.” Omah couldn’t think for a moment, because the man’s eyes now looked completely normal. “Back that way, second left. It’s on your right, about two blocks down. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks! Take care.”
Shalto Denner leaned as casually as he could against the side of the brick column buttressing the City Measurers Hall under the colonnade. Shaded from the main street he lit the rollup he had stuck above his ear. He had thought about giving up many times, but it marked you out as Void scum; an emblem that could save your life in tight situations. This was one.
He recalled that his good looks had often caught him out, so he slipped on a pair of dark shades. He still looked handsome; silver hair above a craggy face, cross-hatched by age lines and azure eyes. A girlfriend, more generous than most, had described his face as like a crystalline rock face, carved into the likeness of a man.
‘Can’t keep it up long enough to satisfy a woman anymore,’ he mused.
His thoughts were interrupted by a sparkle of light in the crowd. Looking more closely he saw the distinctive black helmet of a Municipal Policeman’s helmet and slipped round the corner to hide down Subaltern Street.
Omah could see a sea of blue, flecked with white in his display, no red. This made him suspicious. From the corner of his eye he thought he saw a single flick of red vanish round the corner of the old Measurers Hall.
“Ah ha! Got you!” he muttered. The midday heat made sweat seep into his collar. He slowly shook his head once to sooth an itch. He decided to pass Subaltern Street and double back, round the block.
“Something’s going on, Sector 4, corner of Subaltern Street and Main. Falcon 2 requesting back up.”
“Roger 2. Falcon 3 right behind you, half a block, on the right.”
“Crossing to right now. Stop on the intersection and wait. I’m gonna circle round and flush him out. Suspect he’s the lookout for something. These buggers always have complex crimes in mind these days.”
If you can’t get to a book store, you can still get 2 eBooks free by ordering December Radio paperback online at Amazon or Barnesandnoble.com. Simply email me the receipt!
But if you are near a book store, here’s the deal for 2 eBooks:
1. Call or go into any book store in the USA or Waterstones in the UK and order or buy my book (B&N: $16.19, Waterstones: £15.50). This is the cheapest option but you can order online at Amazon or Barnes & Noble and pay delivery costs if you wish!
December Radio by Lazlo Ferran. ISBN-13: 978-1942981473
My other eBooks are priced at up to $9.99 and you can choose any of these formats: pdf, ePub, pdb, lit, html, kindle format. So you can’t lose!
2. And either:
Go to my Facebook page and post a selfie of you with the book there with the title “I bought December Radio” (or on your Instagram or twitter page) and message me.
Or email me a photo of your receipt: email@example.com
Don’t forget to specify which 2 books and formats you want!
Read Chapter One of December Radio in FREE eBook Inchoate: (Short Stories Volume I): on Amazon or Google Play (pdf version only), or start reading the preview at top of the right hand column.
NB. I am sorry but the December Radio eBook is not included in this offer.
The paperback will follow on 29th January. Watch the trailer below the description.
What would have happened if the Nazi’s developed ‘THE BOMB’ first?
Based on real events. If German scientists had developed nuclear fission first, the world would be changed.
What if? Actually, German scientists were far ahead of the United States in creating the first atom bomb. It was only through the daring exploits of brave men and women that the US succeeded in obtaining the first nuclear weapon and saved the world from being subject to German Nazi rule. Hitler, driving his scientists to extraordinary means, almost achieved domination over all mankind. The thought of such a ruler is chilling, yet could well have come to past.
Based on actual events, Ferran draws the reader into the frightening concept that such a possibility did in fact take place and a few men and women were faced with the ultimate sacrifice. Could such a possibility exist today?
To celebrate the release of December Radio, I am offering Attack Hitler’s Bunker! FREE here! http://bit.ly/amzattack
Watch the trailer below the description.
Rudolf Eineger was left with his finger inside a dead body. Repulsed, he withdrew it and wiped it on the black SS tunic.
Richard Earlgood, maverick RAF fighter pilot, and Michael Dorfmann, an ambitious Luftwaffe double-agent, plan a daring daylight attack on Adolf Hitler using Hurricane fighters, piggy-backing on 4-engine Stirling bombers to reach the almost completed… impregnable… Führer Bunker in this WWII fiction book.
Anna Styles, a Station X decoder, had a romance with Dorfmann at Oxford and is being forced to ‘handle’ the double-agent. She still loves Dorfmann but she has fallen for Richard too. This single raid to bomb Hitler’s Bunker could win the war, but only one man can win Anna’s heart.
Most of Hitler’s staff simply don’t believe such a raid is possible but one ruthless SS officer will stop at nothing to catch Dorfmann and defeat the British.
Men, machines and passions will be stretched to the limits,
in a raid…
that will shape…
Attack Hitler’s Bunker! The RAF secret raid to bomb Hitler’s Berlin Bunker that never happened – probably.
Fans of 633 Squadron The Dam Busters, Valkyrie, The Eagle has Landed Where Eagles Dare or even the WWII simulation game War Thunder will love this white-hot roller-coaster wartime action thriller through the streets of Wartime Berlin on a bombing mission that will make your hair stand on end!
Short post this weekend because I am hard at work on the June Newsletter. This month: no less than 3 chances to win free books and one of those gives you the chance to spend an hour with me onlie for an interview and keep a copy of the interview to share with your friends! There is still time to sign up for the Newsletter here – If you sign up before Friday 10 July, I will send you a copy of this month’s Newsletter. After that, no dice!
Two other things to mention for this Independence Day in the USA:
Lotus is Free from today 3 July until 7 July at 8am EST.
Lotus is an encounter between a soul and Satan. Satan uses every trick possible to torture the soul, who is reincarnated at Satan’s whim but eventually Game Theory proves the undoing of one of them! Click here to get the deal!
Attack Hitler’s Bunker!
This wartime thriller has just been accepted for translation and distribution in China so to celebrate, I am offering it in an Amazon Countdown Deal. This means it will drop to 99 cents from 8am on 4 July and gradually climb back up to its usual price of $2.99 by 11 July 12am PST. So hurry because it will only be at 99 cents for a day or two! Click here to get the deal!
I see that BP (British Petroleum) stocks are up in the UK and USA so maybe now is a good time to invest in petrochemicals.
Fuel has always been expensive, and more importantly during wartime, heavy. In September 1943, when the heroes of Attack Hitler’s Bunker! were trying a precision bombing attack on Hitler’s Bunker in Berlin, that latest Hawker Hurricane, the MKII, required all of its 97 gallons of high-octane fuel, 34.5 gallons each in wing tanks and 28 in a small tank ahead of the cockpit, to achieve a range of 600 miles. It could carry 2 x 500 lb canisters or bombs but would barely be able to reach Berlin from Norfolk, let alone carry out the attack and return.
Drop tanks were not yet available for Allied aircraft and in fact even the German Luftwaffe had limited use for them. Not until October, did the first P-47 Thunderbolts arrive in the European Theatre of War, equipped with drop tanks. But P-47s were to big to negotiate the streets of Berlin in the sort of precision attack required to hit the Bunker and the attack had to be made in September.
What could the answer be?
Richard Earlgood comes up with an almost unique solution; piggy-backing the Hurricane fighters on 4-engine Short Stirling bombers. I say ‘almost’ unique because Short had achieve the same thing before the War with the Mayo Flying Boat. In this way, the Hurricanes could, in theory, reach Veluwemeer in Holland, a large body of water, which had a strong resistance presence, from Berlin.
The Stirling could carry roughly the weight of a Hurricane in bombs and, suitably modified, carry a Hurricane on a framework above its fuselage. For the Hurricane, this arrangement would not be unique either. The Hurricat had been a short-lived version of the fighter modified to be launched by catapult from cargo ships in order to defend them against U-boats.
This all looks great on paper to the Air Ministry but, in practice, the fully-loaded fighters prove too heavy for the bombers to take off and the Hurricanes cannot manoeuvre or make the distance with the fully loaded canisters.
If you love aircraft, especially old aircraft, you will love this post but if not, look away! This is necessarily going to be a long post! I went to Duxford on the Sunday, drawn by the prospect of seeing two Avro Lancasters in formation. As all flight buffs will know, this is probably the last time more than one Avro Lancaster will be seen flying together and the crowds were huge. I arrived before 9 am and the queues were already long. By the time I left, I knew that many hadn’t got in. I saw people standing on bridges, miles down the motorway, hoping to see something. They probably weren’t disappointed.
Apart from the First World War crates, most aircraft were fast enough that their displays were spread over miles of the countryside around Duxford. Indeed, one of the highlights was a display but a Boeing 727, which has recently retired from passenger carrying and been converted to an environmental disaster response unit by a consortium of large oil companies. The red and silver jet was piloted by a first time diplay pilot who clearly had no idea about constraint because he proceeded to come in low over the airfield many times and climb away with both engines roaring at somewhere near full power. He was not that far from the onlookers, possibly flouting UK air traffic laws, but who could blame him?
The two Lancasters came early on, at about 3.15, and rumbled elegantly back and forth over the grass runway for us all to enjoy. Two Spitfires and a Hurricane, which turned up unexpectedly, joined them at the last moment.
I went for a short walk and took a turn in a Battle of Britain flight simulator, along with about ten other people. The simulated flight was of a Bf109E. The bumps and tight turns were faithfully reproduced but, of course, we felt no G-Force.
I also found the Blenheim Society hangar and spoke to one of the engineers who has been working to get the crashed Bristol Blenheim ready for flight again, this time with a Mark I short nose. If you have read Ordo Lupus and the Temple Gate, you will know that the later Mark IV features in the book.
I also attended a re-enacted Bomber Command briefing where I asked how on earth they launched the pigeons, which were used to carry coded information about a downed bombers location back to England. They told me that the pigeons were kept in biscuit tins while in flight and only released after the crash landing or ditching
Shortly after, we were treated to a display of American Naval power from WWII; a Grumman Hellcat, a Chance Vought Corsair and a Grumman Bearcat. While the two former aircraft rumbled slowly back and forth, the Bearcat executed a dazzling display in the background, sometimes going into loops which took it way beyond our vision, up into the clouds.
A Consolidated PBY Catalina (see photos below) took off twice and chugged around, keeping its nose wheel off the ground for an extended landing run, just to compete with the B-17 pilot who made a speciality of this maneouvre, we were told.
Then the B-17 Sally B fired up, sending clouds of black/brown smoke into the air. This B-17, actually a G model, distinguished by the chin gun, was painted to look like Memphis Belle, the first B-17 to survive 25 missions and return to the states, as filmed in the eponymously entitled film. Still in those colours, she rumbled past the crowd and took off for a short, but elegant display, showing her wide belly to the crowd each time.
I happened to be looking for lunch when I saw a Sally B stand and enquired whether I could actually get inside the aircraft. To my complete surprise, I was able to get a ticket to go inside for only £10; apparently a special deal for the day. I paid my money and climbed inside this old aircraft. If you want to see the photographs inside B-17 Sally-B (Memphis Belle) and find out more, take a look at my post two weeks ago.
Just before I sought lunch, I made a quick tour of the military vehicle hanger. If you like this sort of thing, you won’t be disappointed. I saw a Jagdpanther, a Conqueror and an Honest John missile launcher (I had a Dinky Toys one as a kid), to mention a few.
The hanger containing American aircraft had an SR-71 blackbird, a B-29 Superfortress, another B-17G a U-2 and many other interesting aircraft.
Most of these aircraft feature in the photographs below. I apologise about the layout but I have struggled all day to get it as good as this; I didn’t know that the WordPress ‘Gallery’ mode for posts does absolutely nothing and took a while to find out that you can’t easily fit three photos on one line. Anyway, enjoy the photographs, click to enlarge, and please leave a comment.
If you are interested in aircraft, you might like one of my Wartime aviation novels.
Screaming Angels explores the causes of the MiG-15s superiority at the beginning of the Korean War and includes a chapter about the De Havilland Mosquito.
Attack Hitler’s Bunker! is about a raid using composite Hawker Hurricane and Short Stirling aircraft in a daring raid on Hitler’s Bunker in Berlin.
December Radio is about secret German technology during WW2 and features detail on Eugen Sanger’s Orbital Bomber, sometimes called the Amerika Bomber, which could skip along the Earth’s atmosphere to reach New York and reach Japan, making it the forerunner of the American Space Shuttle.
Explore these books under the main menu item Wartime (Aviation) Series.