She was getting so big so fast. I mean animal doctor. He stifled an inward groan. He half-turned and crouched down in front of her. As he did, he caught a flash of long, chestnut-colored hair from the corner of his eye. Seeing us might make them feel sad. Contemporary Category Word Count: Sasha Honeycutt has already been the wife of a small town policeman, and she knows it can involve sacrifice and heartbreak.
And, against her better judgment, Sasha is falling for the insufferably charming sheriff. And Remy is rethinking his dogged pursuit of commitment over passion. He wants more than a mother—he wants a wife. Can he convince the gun-shy Sasha to take a chance on another lawman? Sasha Honeycutt blamed her bold behavior on New Orleans and rum. Even in the ridiculously high heels, Sasha had to stand on tiptoes. The man was a freaking giant. She swayed and grabbed his upper arms to steady herself. Thoughts of bulging biceps and hot skin swirled through the fog in her brain.
His arms encircled her and rough calluses brushed her bare skin.
She shivered, unsure if she should rejoice or curse her open-backed dress. He groaned deep in his throat and those callused fingers tightened their hold and crushed her against his hard chest. Tanya Dawson Book Title: Harlequin Romance Word Count: Sadie Hampton enjoys a life of routine — until a photograph of a WWI couple surfaces and the woman looks exactly like her. She dives into researching the couple and begins to question her own relationship. Tyler Mason is a journalist in London who will get down and dirty for any story. When he receives an e-mail with a photo from WWI that bares his resemblance, his boss wastes no time sending him across the pond hoping this story will clear his bad boy reputation.
The words echo in her ear as she stares at the computer screen and taps her finger on her desk, completely zoned out of the conversation around her. Sadie Hampton was in a peculiar situation. Surrounded by her two best friends, being challenged to participate in their next crazy scheme, she re-reads the small paragraph of words in front of her.
Her stomach squirms and performs acrobatics that any gymnast would be jealous of, as the thought of hitting another button on her keyboard could possibly send her running to the bathroom. What would she be starting? Staring back at her was a woman, who looks exactly like her, and a handsome young man. Jade Chandler Book Title: Real estate developer, Gabriel Parker, lives for the win. He has scraped, gambled, and pushed for every bit of success. Trouble with his company means his next project in Sage Springs must not fail.
Battle lines are drawn and the stakes are higher than ever before. Harper has come to terms with the tragic loss of her husband and built a simple life she loves. Their overwhelming chemistry draws them to each other, but the fact he may be out to destroy her little town with his resort development drives them apart. Distrust simmers underneath the uneasy peace they forge when both find it impossible to resist the enemy.
Only when they learn to trust can the two find what they need — love beyond their wildest dreams. The bronchitis was gone, for now. The white paper lining the exam table crackled when Mrs. Gavney tried to find a comfortable position on the universally uncomfortable tables. The spry Southern lady harrumphed. The new developer, according to the Sherriff. Kirk Howard is heartbroken. A few years later, Fate gives the couple a second chance when their jobs bring them together.
Kirk plays along, hoping to win her over. She sees what a good guy he really is and starts to melt. I told you I found the most romantic hotel on the planet. I suppose since you and Darryl decided only a month ago to get married, you were lucky to find a decent place. But you guys are crazy! Planning a wedding is a huge deal. Harlequin Historical Word Count: Mary Hatter and many generations before her have lived on this earth as healers, until recently when the business of being a witch could have you swinging from a tree.
Of course the land they have accumulated in their searched is only a bonus. The sun slowly awoke that morning, warming up the cool air in the forest and every creature in it. Mary stopped for a moment as she caught a warm ray through the trees. It was magical to feel such warmth, yet see her breath flowing like a mythical creature out of her body and into the air. Fall was her favorite time of the year, the cold mixed with bursts of warmth covering her like a soft wool blanket.
This was the only time of the day where she can do her work safely. She clutched her red wool cloak close to her body, partly to cover the soot on her dress, and partly to keep the cold air at bay. The color made her feel different, it was a bold choice and she really only felt comfortable wearing this cloak on her secret trips into the woods. She felt alive when she wore it, and it made her stand a few inches taller than her normal dark clothing.
Dancing With the Best Man Genre: Even if it ends up giving her a nervous breakdown. Or a broken heart. Alejandro Rivera cares about two things. Dancing and his dance studio for underprivileged children. Women are something he enjoys only when he feels the need. Or keep his hands off her for that matter? Jade teaches Alejandro that women have a lot more to offer than he grew up believing, and he comes to appreciate his life is nothing without her in it.
As if… She jabbed the Door Open button as the man darted across the lobby and slipped inside. Jade gave him an incredulous look when he stayed directly in front of the doors, and suppressed a shudder at his proximity. She was standing right by the door at the control panel, so close his arm was in danger of touching her. She gave a mental shrug. Another weirdo in L. Her hand tightened around the strap of her purse. Only have it broken to pieces by the iceman. Misunderstandings-terrifying fears keep them apart but can love heal them? Staring down at her was the athletic figure of her boss, Nick.
Been reading a hundred and one ways on how not to chat up a women, again? Just wondered if you fancied going to get a coffee. As his PA, he relied on her to ditch his dates and even get his dry cleaning. He had a ruthless head in business, but his personal life lacked organisation. What do you need me to do this time? Melody bit on her bottom lip to keep from laughing at her own joke. Shuffling the stack of papers on her desk, she stood to put them in the filling cabinet. Suzanne Purewal Book Title: Sara Taylor is standing at a crossroad. Disillusioned with her love life and lackluster career, she searches for meaning in her life.
Change is on the horizon. Yearning to make his own life complete, he intends to reconnect with his soulmate. However, an unexpected event sets Sara on a journey. Outside forces intervene, and danger lurks in every shadow. An automatic meeting reminder popped up in the middle of the computer screen, accompanied by a loud dinging noise.
Sara Taylor positioned the mouse over the notice and clicked on it. The thirty-minute countdown started. She stared wistfully at the collection of pictures on her desk. These pictures, as well as a few irreverent, work-related cartoons, livened up the ugly, steel gray cubicle. A simple gold frame held a high school graduation snapshot of Sara with her best friend, Laura. Most people mistook the tall, thin girls as sisters. It was an easy mistake, considering they both had long brown hair and blue eyes. Sara remembered graduation day well—the excitement, the anticipated freedom, the endless opportunities.
Their grand plans had been filled with hope for the future and of making a difference in the world. Another picture, in a wooden frame with a grizzly bear etched in the lower right-hand corner, contained the happy Taylor family, posed in the foreground of the Grand Canyon at sunset. With her left hand, she picked up the picture. A fellow tourist had snapped the shot. It represented a minor photographic miracle for the Taylors—no bunny ears or weird faces. Thanks for this opportunity, Pippa and Carly! In medieval Denmark, the daughter of an assassin must choose between her father and his next target: With attraction flaring, but the gap between a lord and an outcast serf widening with every mile Thor rides closer to his birthright, can Britta and Thor stand together against betrayal and find a future for their people and their love?
She should move on, quickly. Robins or tits were worth the effort to keep alive, to sell on the market as songbirds for rich ladies. Magpies were wanted by their husbands, to do tricks. They walked down the table during a fest, stealing spoons and cursing people, flying off when an indignant guest tried to catch them, laughing at them from on high. The law even forbid their keeping, as their ominous roh-roh-roh was considered a portent of death.
Where the ravens gathered, prey was to be had. A wolf stood in the clearing, fixating her with his amber eyes. He inhaled the sweet scent of blood, and those eyes lit wit dead-on aim. Resistance only made them stronger. Rising From The Ashes Genre: He is still grieving for his dead wife. Five years ago Nick lost his pregnant wife in a car crash. Time has diminished his grief, but left a gaping hole in his heart.
His desire for Amanda burns hotter than the noonday sun, but guilt inflaming his soul is strong. He is running scared, terrified at wanting someone in his life again, yet drawn irresistibly to Amanda. Amanda needs financial security the way other people need air. One night spent with Nick leaves her carrying his baby, but safe, secure Nick has decided to leave his steady, well-paid job to start his own business.
Will Nick find the courage to step out of the shadow of his dead wife and take another chance at happiness? Can Amanda and Nick face their problems, overcome their painful pasts and together forge a united future? Nick Kent stopped at the large van blocking his drive. Inside, a small, pert denim-clad bottom bent over a pile of boxes. For only the second time in his life his world stopped spinning, but he was never going there again. Around five foot six, her tight clothes accentuated her curves.
Her hair, tied back in a ponytail, looked in danger of breaking free around her shoulders. She had a pretty face, but not just pretty. Behind hazel eyes predominantly green lay an interested intelligence — curious, and brimming with fun. And oh boy, did her mouth match her figure. Not too big, not too small. It sent a challenge zinging round his body to kiss lips tinged with a trace of red.
Helpless to resist, she grabbed his latent desire, slammed it to the floor and pinned it down. Shocked, his heart upped its beat. Her beguiling perfume cut into his senses. His mind made the instant jump to a warm bed, naked bodies, and the feel of cool flesh under his hands. Julieta Querol Book Title: Kings of Midnight Genre: From the day she was born every step of her future has been carefully planned.
At twenty-three, she is finally on a fast track to the top at the most prestigious ballet company in Buenos Aires. But his last name is also one of the most powerful and dangerous in Argentina. To Camila it means nothing. To the rest of the country it equals corruption, dark deals that happen during the midnight hours and total control of the Argentinean docks. A fascinating, heart-wrenching story that explores the deepest corners of love, erotic passion and obsession.
Life chuckled at me from above, nothing tipping me off on how it was about to mess with me, big time. I rushed down the streets of downtown Buenos Aires to another full day of rehearsals for Giselle. My body complained from the lack of rest, but being a professional ballerina was a dream come true. I stretched them as I walked, ignoring the familiar knot that settled in my stomach on the weeks before a performance. Dancing was my whole world. I loved it with all my heart, poured my life into it. But it was never enough.
There was so much talent around me. For the past year I had pushed myself harder than I ever thought possible. Needles of wind bit my cheeks. I shoved my fists deeper into my pockets wishing I had worn my parka instead of a hoodie. Humming to the beat of the Arctic Monkeys I dodged bodies in suits and heels, detached faces marching to work as if their hurried pace could make the weekend come sooner. Margo Bond Collins Title: All she wants is peace and a chance to heal. If a bride is the key to enlarging his empire, he knows he can make it happen with a snap of his fingers. None of the women in his world fit the part.
The golden Buddha statue stretching out in front of her probably should have drawn a gasp of wonder, or at least appreciation. It was bigger than a jet. The brochure in her hand, complete with illustrations, said so. She had nowhere else to go. Giving the giant figure an appraising look, she spoke quietly over her shoulder, amused at her daring in flirting with the stranger.
Rebecca Thomas Book Title: Her Alaskan Hero Book Genre: Contemporary Romance Book Word Count: After being left at the altar, California girl Sabrina Tate needs to make a fast getaway. With her famous overbearing parents and the paparazzi hot on her heels, where else is a jilted bride to go to lick her wounds but Alaska? With only her tropical honeymoon clothes in tow, she makes her escape. Zak Forrester is a man on a mission. He has no time for her yoga, vegetarian meal requests, or Scrabble. Soon, neither can resist the other, and two hearts collide.
With time ticking away, they have to decide where they belong. Is a life in a different world better than being a world apart? Now her sister had decided to interrogate her only minutes before walking down the aisle. Sabrina coached herself to take deep breaths. Finally the ceremony would begin. The course for her life had been set. Maybe now, her father would see her as a fully independent woman, able to make decisions on her own without consulting him. Heir to a Texas dynasty, Rancher Hayden Courtland had everything but children.
Actress Alana Austin should have never left her hometown cowboy. But Courtland money attracted deception that caused the loss of their unborn baby. As they struggle with the past and one man consumed by his lust for power,they give into one night of reckless passion. Her cowboy is not an actor, but will he step into the role of daddy? Just like her resolve, the wood beneath her began to weaken and wobble. She hesitated as tension squeezed her belly, warning her to turn back. It was too late to change her mind. A chill of uncertainty trickled down her spine when her gaze swept over the front door.
The once vibrant cherry-red paint was now barely noticeable on the sun-battered wood. The condition of the door triggered her anxiety, pricking goose bumps along her arms. What if more than just the door had changed? What if another woman lived here? Alana forced her worries aside. And maybe, she could use it as an excuse to right a terrible wrong. Your body may die, but your soul carries on…searching. The women in her family were different. On the night he asked her to marry him, a violent event caused dual spells to intertwine, sending them both out and into the Universe.
The first, a wish during the heat of a passionate encounter and the second — a curse after a horrendous crime was committed by an upstanding pillar of the community. Delivered by magic and reincarnation, their cursed souls travel, connected and parallel, searching through time. Her body emerged from the dark abyss from which it laid and reentered the thin surface of reality shivering.
An immediate sense of self-preservation heightened her mental awareness forcing her to synch with the strange surroundings, more noticeable with each passing second. Deep, cold sensations traveled with her, increasing in strengths through the thriving fibers of her small physique. Reluctant at first to wake, her muscles and nerves flipped about, jumping into action and adjusting to the foreign imbalance that had suffocated her during the deep slumber. She strained to understand and identify the odd but familiar noise infecting her sense of hearing.
It had begun as a constant and steady comforting tempo, but picked up pace and then slow off to a halt, leaving her to assume it had stopped. She counted the seconds of subdued silence, desperately begging it to restart again. She needed the sound; it gave her peace. Her chest felt heavy, submerged under pressure. The immense pain she felt inside of her body made its presence imminent, rising up into and between her shoulders.
It moved as an internal foreign alien, navigating around her collar bone and tearing through the multiple layers of pale skin. Sasha Kohl Book Title: A Very Sexy Delivery Genre: High school English teacher Sophie Black is ready for love… She thinks. Jake is instantly attracted to Sophie, and their relationship is too hot to handle. However, when a teenage girl accuses him of having an inappropriate relationship with her, Sophie decides the risk to her heart is too great and cuts Jake out of her life.
Soft warm lips brushed against her mouth, feathered down her neck, and whispered seductively over the curve of her breasts. Firm hands caressed their way up from her knee, sliding and delicately kneading the firm flesh they found. She closed her eyes, immersed in sensations, and hummed with pleasure.
Those questing hands continued their upward trajectory and found the lower curve of her full, plump breasts. His tongue thrust into her mouth, sliding erotically across hers, tangling, caressing. He nipped at her lower lip, then licked away the sting.
An arc of heat arrowed straight to her core, intensifying the ache rapidly building there. He was licking… her arm? She cracked open an eyelid to see a wet black nose heading straight for her face. That was just getting good. Gina Hagedorn Book Title: Now, on the eve of her thirtieth birthday, she is ready to retire from modeling, join forces with her mother, and claim what is rightfully theirs. The only obstacle standing in her way, it seems, is the same man she fled from all those years ago.
When Alexander died, he was loyal to Alexander and his memory. Jameson must keep Lexi close to him until he can unravel the decade-old mystery that ultimately destroyed his friend, and is now threatening Lexi and her mother. Goose bumps rose on her skin. Owner of the Paisley Hotel, owner of the Highland Casinos. Owner of his unreachable heart. They were supposed to meet at the airport, then leave for their planned vacation to Scotland.
The last thing Lexi wanted was to return to the Paisley — or face him again. It would dredge up memories of when her father owned the hotel. Before everything went to Hell. But she had no choice now. Her mother still lived there. Reagan Phillips Book Title: Harlequin Teen Word Count: Six years ago, after the death of her father, Julian Andrews escaped Spring Falls to live with her aunt.
Now, two days before the beginning of senior year, she is forced to return and deal with the emotions she left behind. Her mother suffers from depression. Her sister hates her for leaving. Her aunt is across the ocean in Europe. For added dramatics, I crossed my arms over my chest. Determined not to believe Bombi so heartless that she would A make me return to the place where my father died, and B desert me there. I could stay in Nashville with them. Bombi, with her Jackie-O sunglasses, clenched teeth, and persistent personality, managed an emotionless smile.
Her lips pushed up, and her too white teeth gleamed underneath, but the rest of her face stayed unreadable. Each a direct hit that destroyed any chance of keeping my carefully crafted plans for senior year at Briarwood Prep intact. It is an expression of doubt, and Harper McReynolds has all sorts of doubts about this bad-to-the-strings-of-his-guitar ex-rocker.
What is his interest in her? Besides being five years older, she has responsibilities, namely a tenacious teenaged daughter and one with special needs! She has read of all the wild Brody Reeds tabloid stories. He is the opposite of the stability she needs to heal a chaotic past. Yet looking into her violet lollypop eyes, Brody sees flickers of fear that may hold the key in knowing all of her.
If a bet is what it takes to peer over the walls of protection Harper has so carefully built, then Brody will take that bet…even if it means losing his heart. Kissing is an art form and right then I knew I was not kissing a man who doodled. I was kissing a da Vinci. His lips were soft yet commanding. He knew when to nibble and when to explore.
His tongue performed arabesques in my mouth, dancing to its own beat of pleasure. I moaned and whimpered and sighed and purred, all from his mouth on mine. When we came up for air, he leaned his forehead against mine, his deep breaths matching my own gulps of airs. His grey, wolf-like eyes stared back up at me through a jungle of light lashes. God he was sexy. New York socialite Brooke Hewes had it all until her husband died in a car accident along with his mistress.
All she has to do it turn it around and only one man can help—the man she walked away from. The Hewes family has destroyed the man who was the only father he had known. No matter, that Brooke Hewes, the woman who stomped on his heart, is still arouses him. When the deal leads to seduction then a baby, he wants his family and her in his bed. Aidan and Brooke must decide what do they value more status or their love…. Brooke stepped inside the bar. This slickly designed place was the wrong spot to meet with Aidan Grant. From the outside, this place appeared a pleasant after-business bar where a drink and some business talk could happen.
What she had taken as shade was actually dim corners, made even dimmer by the Scotch, cognac and brandy decor and blackened windows. Every eye turned on her. All that was needed was the needle scratching across the record player. She tucked her purse under her arm and made her way to the bar. The men gawked, sitting on the edge of the chair or craned their neck to watch her. Her husband—brought her down a notch—had a good career—Daddy gave her a job. Her steps were measured.
Heel to the ball to her toes. Clara Quinn, Classics Teacher at an all girls boarding school is livid to hear while on holiday in Rome that her small town library is to be sold for land. It was her refuge when times with her famous parents became tough. Despite hating confrontation, thanks to her parents constant bickering, she confronts the man in charge who claims to be from Maryton and still wants to destroy it.
In this battle of wills, who will triumph? First Words of MS: There was no turning back now! Clara scrunched up the scrap of paper whose blue ink was melting into her panic dampened palm and threatening to leave a tattoo print of the name of her nemesis on it. Its contents had been going round in her head as she made the journey here, to his office. It had circled in her head like a vulture; like the vulture that he was. The name of one Mr. She sucked in a determined breath and reached up to push the heavy blackened glass door, unprepared as it swung wide beneath her hovering palm, her fingertips dropping, closely followed by her feet then her body in their momentum, onto a crisp light blue shirt and tie housing a decidedly well muscled, male torso.
The scent of fresh, non-humid, air conditioned clothes whooshed up her nose, a low humming buzzing through her from the top of her head to her toes, for some reason stopping to concentrate in her fingertips and where they were still pressed against him. Taking some risks and trying not to hate her body so much seems like a good place to start.
On her eighteenth birthday at the club, YOLO, she risks it all by dancing with Danny Rivera, the sexy Puerto Rican guy from school who inhabits her dreams. She never imagines her dreams would become reality as they begin a passionate relationship that challenges all her plans for the future. My day always begins with me standing in various forms of nakedness in front of the full-length mirror, twisting my head around to see how fat my ass looked.
At the moment, all I wore was a black miniskirt. There was no way I could wear this out dancing tonight without a long shirt to cover my bulges. Next up was a view from the side to see how far out my stomach was protruding, depending on what I had eaten the night before. Hmmm, not too bad. Now, the front view: Holding my head high, I put my shoulders back and stared at my reflection.
My bangs were too long and needed a trim. As for the rest of my face—wait, oh no. There was a zit brewing on my chin. I poked it with my finger and groaned. This one would be ripe soon since it already hurt. What a great birthday present. Muna Sheik Book Title: Instead she finds support in the least likely of persons, with quasi-family friend Saimon Hajime. Erika is happy for the extra hands, but the more she works side-by-side with the brooding billionaire, the more she wishes for a less professional relationship….
Now a politician, too, Saimon gives Erika access to all wealth can buy. At first he does it to distract himself from the family scandal ruining his career. But playing business partner to Erika catches up with him when their feuding fathers make their disapproval plain. Saimon Hajime folded his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket to avoid strangling the man in front of him. Defense General Hayato Murakami surveyed him with his usual coolness. The older man was in his element, surrounded by bodyguards, his hair and shoes polished to glossy blackness as he occupied one of the dining chairs across from him.
Flight for Love Genre: Arabian horse trainer and single mother, Lacy Yarborough has worked seven days a week to qualify her mare for National competition and salvage her career after being unjustly suspended for abuse. But when his niece insists he hire Lacy, he learns he has a bigger problem than confronting the woman who destroyed his family. Can he convince Lacy that love and family are a far greater reward than winning? Trainer Lacy Yarborough set the emergency brake on her three-horse rig. Although rain often dampened the Ohio show held every Memorial Day weekend, today bright sunshine reflected off the trucks and trailers parked behind the main horse barn.
Nickers of nervous animals filled the air. Uneasy, Lacy pulled her baseball cap low over her eyes. Her colleagues would recognize her soon enough. After lowering the ramp so she could lead her horses from the trailer to the pavement, Lacy entered the shadowy interior infused with the strong scent of horse urine and sweat. Restless, Sinny chuffed her impatience to escape the cramped space. Although her bay mare had been in the trailer multiple times, today her horse moved in jerky motions.
Lacy tightened her grip on the lead rein. She knew tight quarters and large animals could lead to disaster. Her best friend, Joanie, had suffered a permanent brain injury during a freak trailer accident—and Joanie had unloaded a seasoned horse. Sinny was only three and considered green. A Vintage Romance Genre: After a savage beating, Anthony Jackson is forced to leave his home on the Conti family estate. Leaving his first love behind, starting a new life in Walla Walla and building his own winery.
When his daughter, Pavia, inherits ten acres of valuable vineyard land from the Conti patriarch she learns about the secrets and lies that tore the Conti and Jackson families apart. Determined to redeem her father from past betrayals, Pavia leaves her home for the Sierra foothills, to claim her inheritance.
Alex Conti is shocked to learn that his grandfather has given away a parcel of land that has been in their family for generations. Alex and his brother Nick are determined to keep Pavia from making a success of the small winery she plans to build until Alex meets her face to face. One look at the African American beauty throws him into turmoil, as he begins to question everything he thought he knew about love and his family.
Can Pavia trust the family that betrayed her father? Or, can they overcome secrets from the past to create a future together? Pavia sat in stunned silence while her hands turned to ice. She turned to her father with wide eyes, her voice trembling. Anthony Jackson reached over, the warmth from his large hand enveloping her own.
A comforting gesture that helped steady her. He stood abruptly facing the lawyer. I understand this is a lot to take in. Two-and-a-half million dollars and ten acres of some of the finest vineyard land in Saint Helena is an impressive inheritance. Conti made his wishes clear. Anyone contesting the will forfeits their inheritance. Conti wanted to make sure you received this gift. Conti made for Miss Jackson. Now I understand this has come as a complete surprise.
News anchor Carolyn Reynolds books a vacation at the luxurious Bronze Diamond Hotel in New York, but instead of finding relaxation, she encounters a passion that heightens all her senses. Surrendering to her intense attraction with Nick Clarke, the man providing her room service, is a moment of pure pleasure. But is it a risk he is willing to take? Everything in preparation for four nights of relaxation.
Yet her body felt tense. She always loathed the idea of paying to hire out a room when she was happy to sleep in the car. After making it through the mind numbingly slow traffic, she entered the parking lot outside the Bronze Diamond hotel. A barrier gate stopped her from driving any further. As she slowed to a stop, a man emerged from the adjacent booth, smiling widely. She lowered the window as he approached. And to make matters worse, before getting his wings back he must attend anger management classes. Wanting to escape the media frenzy near his home base in Texas, he heads to his family home to Rocky Harbor, Maine to fulfill his punishment.
But can she settle for a long-distance relationship filled with constant worry and loneliness? Or will Graham clip his wings and confine himself to the life he never wanted to live? Graham Riley packed a duffle with the bare necessities and tossed it in the back of his jeep before sliding behind the wheel and turning on to Interstate He was looking forward to a few days of solitude, open road, and sunshine. Unfortunately he hit construction, detours and torrential downpours.
A metaphor for his life. An impeccable record, scratched only because he defended a flight attendant. Policy demanded Graham be grounded until internal affairs and TSA did a thorough background check. So here he sat, with the top to his jeep on in the middle of July, escaping Texas and heading home to his large, eccentric family in Rocky Harbor, Maine. David is the leader of a little-known segment of the U. All she wants is a good paying job and to see her beloved, but flighty sister to the altar.
Until she finds herself in the middle of a mental tug of war — one that has her reeling from nightmares, resisting the enemy, and fighting for her life. Are her feelings for David authentic or is she a victim of his mind-altering abilities? The bell over the antique door chimed as she opened it. She smelled the familiar scent of fresh coffee and muffins and heard something else familiar, too — a dry laugh.
Grace glanced to the left sharply as she looked for a seat in the crowded end of the coffee shop. She had heard that sound before and recently, too. She searched for the source, her eyes alighting on a couple nearby. As she had thought, it was HIM, the Job Crusher — the name she had privately given him after the fiasco that was her morning. The jerk who had watched her presentation with unblinking eyes and then jotted something in his notebook. The high-profile advisor who she was certain had swayed her client into ending her lucrative contract.
Whatever was he doing here, now, in her small corner of the world? She studied him carefully under the guise of perusing the drink list. He was dressed in charcoal gray slacks and a black shirt. His dark brown hair looked exactly as it did in the morning — perfect. Except now she noticed there was a slight curl on the right side. She Laughs in Pink Author: Two things keep her from falling into a deep, dark place— dancing and her best friend, Ben.
Away from her past and looking forward to her future with Ben, nothing will stand in the way of winning his heart. Being at college together will make things that much easier. Until she meets his roommate, Chase, who greets her with intense, purple eyes and an attitude that makes her insides twist. For him, their connection is instant. I put Gram in a cab to the airport and kiss her goodbye, then weave my way through the city streets hauling the two duffel bags I packed for college.
I hope New Jersey moves a little slower. I need the break. As I push towards the stairs that lead underground to the station, I notice a hot brunette a few yards in front of me pulling a suitcase with one hand and holding a phone in the other. The beautiful girl, new to the city, searching for Broadway, dreams alive and hope shining as brightly as Times Square. I check out her form as I follow her, admiring her entirely too long legs shrouded in entirely too tight yoga pants. Her tan arms flex as she lifts her giant suitcase and carries it down the stairs. Her Replacement Groom Author.
Her solution is to get married.
The groom is immaterial as all relationships turn sour eventually so Chloe proposes to her ex boyfriends. Silas, her twenty ninth choice, accepts so nobody else can. Once women get you hooked, they introduce unwelcome lifestyle changes Chloe dumped him twice for being naive, intense and romantic so he guarantees their third attempt is also unlucky. Attraction sizzles as they cancel her wedding.
If Silas trusts her and Chloe follows her heart rather than gossip, fourth time might be a charm. It was unfair to contact him but he was the final name on her list. Silas Lowry emerged from under a car bonnet with startled brown eyes half covered by chin length curls. My car is fine. He looked good, even more gorgeous than she remembered. Tall and lean with eyes that made her feel she was focus of his entire world. When they locked briefly with hers,her emotions stirred for the first time that week. He towered over her height challenged five foot five inches plus designer heels.
His presumption was logical when she taught his teenage brothers. A romantic restaurant came into her mind. Sharon Cavanaugh is an interior designer who finds herself homeless after walking in on her boyfriend with his pants down. Sharon was shown a seemingly abandoned house sitting in the woods and she enlists new friend, Luke, to walk through the house with her.
Disastrous blind date, a hurricane and a house fire bring Sharon and Luke closer together. The garage door was already up as Sharon pulled her car into the driveway. She spotted the Chevy Tahoe and smiled, pleased he beat her home from the construction project they were both currently working. She stepped out of her car and her high heels landed in a crack, bobbling the car keys and almost dropped her cellphone.
She got closer and closer to the door and heard peculiar sounds. Uncertain she wanted to know what was making the noises she hesitantly twisted the door knob. Her eyes widened and she dropped here keys making a loud clanging on the tile floor. The young blonde with her skirt around her waist screamed. Sharon scooped her keys from the floor and walked past the pair. Her first clue that all may not be well in paradise is the band of Highland warriors dragging her to their castle.
What starts out as a reluctant adventure quickly turns into a fight to survive that has Gwen questioning everything she thought she knew about the world she lives in and the power of true love. Gwen Howard inwardly sighed as she rolled her eyes, thinking not for the first time today, that she was well on her way to sainthood due to the supreme amount of patience she was forced to exude on a daily basis.
Try turning it on now. What was it about men and gadgets? Clearly he knew on some level that he needed help considering he called the customer service number of the national software company where she worked. But every step of the way the guy managed to belittle and snap at her. Rolling her shoulders while she waited for Mr. After this call, she would be F-R-E-E! Love in the Fall Semester: Kate and Rory Genre: Ten seconds earlier he was on top of the world as he strolled into the office and sat down for the first time as Mid-South University President. The quaint little college town daily Terre Haute Herald headlines in front of him read: His quiet, peaceful world had just been blown apart.
Regaining control, he sat down and tapped his fingers on the warm surface of his favorite coffee mug and inhaled the nostril clearing vapors of the midnight black liquid. Everyday mafia members and unscrupulous business persons approach universities with questionable business proposals to solve budget shortages. Surprisingly these proposals are occasionally accepted which ultimately leads to scandal, media frenzy, loss of University mission, and the President being fired. This a love story of a former military commander who inherits such a mess. The task is complicated by a pesky, ponytailed, smart and beautiful female ace reporter charged with digging up the dirt and reporting the scandal.
The conflicting challenges of their roles, their personal demons, and an undeniable attraction to each other present many obstacles to their mutual desire to put the university and their love lives back on course. First Two hundred words: I think I see escaped murder Luther Booth in the food court. Call my editor at the Chicago Times daily and tell him to hold the evening addition, then call the police. A three hundred pound big bertha blocked the path. Carla slipped up beside Kate. Kate flashed by her, bumping the oversized woman in the process. Fatty stumbled backward, slammed into a customer behind her and both tumbled to the floor.
The whining child was pulled on top of his mother, screaming. Sun Chara Book Title: The ultimate betrayal… Maryana Baskov, waif of the underground gaming clubs made a heart-wrenching decision and ditched Greek heartthrob, Nikos Santinis for his older, wealthier archenemy to save her family from ruin. The ultimate revenge… Twelve years later, Nikos Santinis, now owner of a string of resort casino hotels is hellbent on bringing the Russian beauty to her knees.
Not by a flicker of her mascara-laden eyelashes did she clue what was going through her female head—her scheming mind. A raindrop meandered down his nape from his rain-spritzed hair, but he ignored the distraction. A siren sounded in the distance. He chuckled, the sound empty even to his own ears.
When anglo-saxon king Penda of Mercia died an organisation was founded in his name. One night Ronnie dreams that one of their housemates is being murdered. When she wakes up it has already happened. Spencer is determined to find the killer. She struggled to move her feet, to keep him from crossing the road.
She tried to shout out to him, to warn him, to do anything to get his attention. No sound came out. She stood rooted to the spot, silently reliving her dream. Like in the dream, the gigantic beast rushed out of the alleyway. Panic clawed at her chest, her breath came in short gasps as she realised the inevitability of what was happening. Evi, former host of the hit travel show Urban Nomad, understands the appeal of the whitewashed houses and blue shutters of the tiny Cretan seaside village where she grew up.
As Evi and Mathaios get to know each other, she finds out that their pasts are intertwined in ways she never could have imagined. The driver turned up the volume on the radio, lit a cigarette, and slammed on the brakes just in time to prevent a flock of sheep from suddenly turning into street souvlaki. Screw the spoon, I thought. The taxi driver, current host of this nightmare, turned and looked at me over his shoulder. Clark's Field Infants School David bottom right.
I can remember my first day at school in the classroom with other children. The ceilings were high and there were things like sandpits and black board easels and old fashion classroom desks and tables. The girl next door, Vivian Butler, began school with me and I can remember her crying for her Mum. I can remember not feeling the need to cry and I tried to comfort her and assure her all would be well.
My Auntie Edith was very good to us boys and we would visit her every Saturday. She was called Auntie Alice. Auntie Edith would take us out to a great park in Oldham and on the way home we would call in at the chip shop. In those days chips were real chips, cooked in real fat. One of our favourite meals she would cook was potato pie, with red cabbage. In the house there was a cellar that I always liked to visit. I think at one time washing was done in the cellar.
At that time my brother was probably the only close friend I had, although we were not too close. He was just there. This type of swimming baths was typical of old-fashioned baths of the time. They were small, the water green, and walls tiled cream. At the side of the pool there were slipper baths where you could sit up to your chin in hot water and carbolic soap supplied to wash with.
It was very cosy. In fact the whole atmosphere was warm and cosy, not like the cold clinical swimming baths of modern times. Next-door was the washhouse where mum used to go at the same time to do washing. One Saturday morning I nearly drowned and was saved by the attendant called Norman. I had tiptoed backwards and as the pool got slowly deeper and deeper I found I could not touch the bottom. It was through the providence of God that the attendant turned to see me reaching upwards out of the water.
He dived in to rescued me and I can still feel the fear today of nearly drowning. Across the road from the swimming baths was a slaughterhouse, next door to inhabited houses. We were very curious and would look through the slatted windows and see the men kill the pigs, sheep and cattle. This was awesome and ghoulish and a fearful thing but we were very curious and wanted to see how the men slew the animals. There was blood, animal intestines, animal heads bones and blood. The smell was awful and not pleasant at all and it seemed as though the pigs knew they were going to be slaughtered and their end was come.
I have wondered about my brother since then, as he was two and half years older than I, how this may have affected him. Later on in life he demonstrated a callous way, which was characteristic of killing without mercy just like these slaughter men. About this time I can remember coming home from school and in the dusk of that day the house seemed unusually quiet. My brother had fallen down a basement stairway shaft at school and landed on his back.
He was concussed and I can remember then feeling how precious life was and my brother could have died through the fall. I still had no recollection of God during this time. Oldham is a town in the north of England not far from the city of Manchester and during the 19th century was an industrial community famous for its cotton mills. In fact, my grandfather was a great supporter of the Trades Unions. As a child I can remember the old mills, red brick built with huge chimneys towering high above the buildings. I remember also the water reservoirs, which we were always warned to stay away from.
My mother had spoken about children being drowned in them and this was sufficient for me to obey her. Typical Mill at Oldham. My Mum took me to my first day at school. I was in the second year of the infants. My mum had arranged for me to walk home with a girl called Vivian who apparently lived in Coates Way, which was where we lived. When it came to walking home I had to follow Vivian but she took me by a way that I had never been before.
A completely different way and across a park to what was the other end of Coates Way. She left me there and I had no Idea where I was, as I did not recognise anywhere at all. Feeling uneasy about all this I realised I was now lost. So I made my way back towards the school and began to ask people where Garston Road was. There was no such place but I insisted I lived in Garston Road.
A man with a Bedford dormobile offered to take me back to school to find out where I lived, so off we went. The man took me back to Coates Way but I could not recognise where I lived. He drove from one end to the other. It was quite a long Way with a Council estate on one end and private houses at the other end. This was where I lived, Coates Way. I saw my Mum in the front garden - so I arrived home after being lost on my first day at school. My classroom teacher was a German woman called Miss Kitchinger.
She spoke with a German accent and I spoke with a broad Lancashire accent. We did not hit it off and I was hopeless at reading the flash cards. It seemed as though I was singled out and proved to be a dunce, as I could not really read. Being small I think I would mess about. One day when I arrive at school I found a pair of pumps they called them plimsolls on my desk and I did not like them being there.
Feeling rather indignant I place them in the dustbin. The caretaker said he had found them and placed them on my desk. When I was questioned I was in trouble and Miss Kitchinger said my mum would have to buy Vivian a new pair as I had thrown them away. I felt this unfair and really picked on. I know my mum came to the school and had an argument about the pumps and the fact that a German teacher was trying to teach English.
At that time my mum had to work late and it was arranged for me to wait in the classroom after school until my mum came to pick me up. This was shortly after the event with the plimsolls. The class had a pet hamster and this little creature got all the attention from every one. I was the one that got no attention but rather got into trouble. One evening whilst I was waiting in the classroom for my mum to collect me the teacher left the classroom for a short while.
I went towards the hamster cage and thought to my self why do you get all the attention. I know what I am going to do with you. I took the hamster out to the cage and closed the door. I sat back in my chair before the teacher returned and went home with mum as though nothing had happened. The next day I went into class as quiet as I could and keeping out of the way.
I waited patiently for the eruptions then suddenly, Oh Miss, screamed Vivian; the hamster is in my desk. It had weed and messed everywhere through out the night. Every one gathered around the desk to see at the same time I felt very guilty. One boy tried to suggest the hamster had escaped and climbed up the table leg and got through the whole drilled at the bottom to let spilled ink to drain.
A good ideal I though keep thinking that. Then some one asked how did it get out of the cage as the door was closed. I was feeling very, very guilty now and wondered if Miss Kitchinger was thinking had I done the deed the night before. I kept quiet and to this day they do not know how that hamster got there. During this time my brother was attending the Lea Farm Junior School, the school I was to attend the next year or so.
One day about on the way home from normal school I would walk past the Congregational church building, rather a modern one and the vicar lived in a Gypsy stile caravan in the church grounds. The church was always left open and we often went in the church on the way home. I could not understand this. Why where things left unlocked for anyone to steel from.
One day after school I met the vicar when I was looking around the church and I asked him why is the building left open and why is the collection box not locked. His reply puzzled me. He said the church should be always open for people because God was like that and that if people fell they need to steel the collection then they must need it badly. He did not feel the box should be locked. I was puzzled and said by why? The vicar was sure it was the right thing to do. That stayed with me to this day and people get angry some times with me for not looking up my house.
At this same church I can remember the Easter services. I had no Idea what the gospel was nor did I understand the Easter story. I knew the story about his death and resurrection but did not know what it all meant. I never did find out until 14 years later when I was 21 years old when I learned to read the bible for my self. It was then I learned that Jesus had to die to take away my sins. That he died in my place to set me free from sin, self and death. It was about this time that my mum encouraged me to play the piano. This was July The sort of music, which was popular in those days, was.
Also the Hula-Hoop was a craze. My brother and I lived at Coates Way, Garston and our house was the last private house next to the Council housing estate on the same road. There was a boy who lived with his mother in a council house just along the road from us and my brother nicknamed Cecil, as this sounded like a suitable name for a sissy.
He was a cripple in the sense that his feet were curved inwards and he walked awkwardly and he must have been about 10 years old. My brother poked fun at him and I too soon followed suit. He would try and avoid us. As I write about it I feel bad and if I were to catch my son or daughter saying such things I would deal with them severely. One day Cecil came on his bike down to the woods that we called the dell. We were playing up the trees and had made a catapult out of one of the branches of the trees. One person would sit in the branch and two or three other kids would pull on the rope till the branch was fully bent.
The rope would be released and the person would be catapulted up in the air. They would have to hold on tightly other wise they would end up in the other trees. On this day my brother had it in for Cecil. He had come to play in the dell and we took his bike from him putting into or catapult. We released the rope and his bike went up, over and into trees and then left Cecil to recover it. We thought this was great fun but Cecil did not and was very unhappy.
His mother then came to our house and complained to my mum about our bullying Cecil but she seemed to have no mercy. She said Cecil had got to learn to look after himself and he was a sissy. She said he would have to learn to stand on his own two feet. I felt mum was wrong as I knew how bad we were and my mum seemed to have no mercy. I felt guilty at that time but kept quiet.
Shortly after this incident my brother encouraged me to take our newly acquired air pistols to school and Cecil was the one who my brother bullied and threaten to shoot in the playground. In fact it was at the Lea Farm Junior School and during the morning break Cecil was in the playground hiding behind the wall and Michael had the GAT air pistol and took pot shots at him. Fortunately for Cecil he missed but that is the way it was.
On reflection my brother seemed to have no mercy at all. David at Lea Farm Junior School. This was because one of the other boys had taken it from my desk, after the assembly that day, and was caught by a teacher running around the classroom with it. Of course I was in trouble again with the Headmaster and I got the cane for bringing a dangerous weapon to school.
Michael and I must have been about 10 and 12 years old and Mum and dad had renovated an old Ford convertible whose number plate was BBU. Our mum had bought this car whilst we were living in Oldham and dad was working in Watford. Our parents were able to buy our house at Coates Way, Garston and it was mum who decided to buy the car to get Michael and I down from Oldham to Watford. I was proud of my mum for doing this at it was a long way to travel from Oldham to Watford in those days.
In fact on two or three occasions it stopped on the way and mum had to get help from garages to blow air down the fuel pipe to clear the stoppages. It was this car that I often fell out of when the breaks were hit. It causes me to move foreword and push open the door look. The doors opened the opposite way round the cars of our days. I would end up on the road outside the car. Dad eventually was able to put a safety chain on the handle to stop this happening. I was also proud of my dad as he rebuilt the engine and painted the car black and green.
Mum made a new convertible top using her sewing skills. It was a bit like Noddy's cars it was really good. It was in this car we went to Brixton for a holiday and it was there mum and dad bought Michael and I a fishing rod each. I had a wooden cane one and he had a metal rod. I remember I was always jealous of what he had because I always thought his things where better than mine.
However we were very keen to try out the rods out in the sea harbour. Michael rushed to the waterside just around the corner and soon came back crying with part of his rod in hand. He said a man had took his rod and thrown it into the sea and rod of on a bike. Dad rushed around but no on could be seen. We looked for the man on his bike but one on was to be seen.
It is only now as I look back that I believe Michael had quickly put the rod together pretended to fish by casting an imaginary line and the rod top had gone straight into the see. He probably felt he would have been told off by our dad and be in trouble. So he invented a story about a man on a bike. When I look back it is incidences like this that I learned about the way Michael thought and the way his mind worked and in latter life able to stretch a story. Every year the fair would come to Garston and I really looked forward to ride the dodgem cars.
All the kid would go to the fair and spend lots of time watching. I can remember two brothers who worked on the fair and these were like heroes and we would wonder who was the strongest and speculate, which on could lift a dodgem car above their head. We would also listen to the latest pop music, which played through large loudspeakers. This was before any one had personal radios or cassette players. There was no Top of the Pops on TV.
So the fair was the place to hear pop music. I felt guilty and bad at the time and I still feel the shame as I write about it now and this hard earned money of my mum was spent at the fair. At one time I was at the fair on my own trying to get a free ride on the dodgem cars and a man in a suit offered me a number of free rides. He then asked me to help him fix his car that had broken down which was along the St Albans Road.
Within a short while the CID came and asked me all sorts of questions about this man and I was able to help them all I could. It just shows how youngsters can be caught off guard. Thankfully I had listened to my mum and got away. My brother at that time had a paper round and use to get up early each morning, which means of course he now had his own money.
I can remember him obtaining all sorts of new things like writing cases, pens, pencils, ink cartridges, etc. I soon realised that my brother was not buying them but stealing them from the shop that he worked at. On the odd occasion I would go and help him deliver the papers.
I enjoyed this as it took me to places I had never been before. On this first occasion we had to deliver papers to a hospital or residential home and around the back of the building we could see the kitchens and we could help our selves to the cakes, which had been freshly cooked. I learn from my brother how easy it was to get things I wanted. I always looked up to my brother and often envied the things he did and had.
I remember him going to Switzerland with the school and him coming home with all kinds of good, like a walking stick, flick knives, badges etc. Flick knives were illegal and to have a flick knife was a good thing. Michael soon got in to bow and arrows, air rifles, pistols, swords and sheath knives, all of, which seemed good to me. In fact we use to hide all these weapons under the floorboards in our shed, which our dad had built at the bottom of our garden. At this time I remember my mum and dad buying me a new bike.
It was a red Californian with curved crossbars etc. I thought it was great and was ever so pleased with it. One day the bike went missing and I knew some one had taken it so I was very upset. When I went out looking for it I noticed up the main road that an accident had taken place as there were cars stopped and people milling around.
To my horror I saw my nice new bike crumpled and just lying at the side of the road. The boy who had taken it had been knocked off the bike and was lying in the road awaiting an ambulance and every one was trying to take care of him. I thought to my self never mind about him, as he had stolen my bike, look at my new bike all bent. I was very upset. No one however took any notice of me, neither were they concerned about my bike being damaged. I seem to remember he had broken his leg or legs in the accident. His mother later said he had not stolen my bike but rather I had left it at their house and he was just returning it to me.
My interest in radio, which we now call electronics, started the day I heard a crystal set operate. I must have been 11 or 12 years old. We were members of the Camping Club of Great Britain and every weekend we would go camping to Chertsey where we had a tent pitched. One weekend my brother stole a crystal set from one of the other campers. It consisted of a small tuning capacitor in a blue plastic case and a crystal diode together with a set of headphones.
I was intrigued and was amazed as it worked. From that day I became to be interested in radio and electronics. Soon after this I sent away for a set of parts to build a two transistor, radio reflex receiver, and put the thing together, as best I could. I wired the circuit as I thought the diagram showed and crushed it all together to fit inside its plastic case. He was a radio technician in the Royal Air force and he rebuilt the receiver and showed me how to wire circuits up.
From that time I began to learn about how things worked and taught my self-many things with the help of others. Another friend of mine had a dad who had a radio workshop and I was very envious of all the equipment he had in his garage. I remember the boy being confident enough to take apart out of an old radio for me, without any sense of fear.
I was quite impressed. From then on I taught my self quite a lot and began to learn about transistors. There were valves, tuning condensers, transformers etc. Another friend of my parents was an ex Air force radio technician and he taught me all about diodes and rectifiers, half wave and full wave rectifying circuits and AM demodulators.
This was at the age of This hobby was to last me a lifetime and helped lead me to a job in radio and television servicing and also to Luton College of Technology. During this time whilst living in Garston I had no sense of or knowledge of God and I had stopped going to Sunday school. My first senior school was in Garston as I had failed the 11 plus. Michael had already started at this school and did well at cricket, Boxing and Basketball.
I was not good at any of these things but rather was interested in my radio hobby, which led me to trips to London, on the train, from Watford Junction, to buy components. It was towards the end of my first year at Francis Coombe Secondary modern school that I ventured out to London, on the train, with a friend of mine, Paul Dorrington. This was to visit the second hand electrical shops, to buy radio parts. I loved visiting Tottenham Court Road for this purpose and it was on one of these visits that we stumbled across Soho and noticed the strip clubs.
These aroused our curiosity. Paul and I plucked up courage and paid to go in and sit at a table. We could see a nude lady sitting on a chair and were given a sketchpad and pencil and encouraged to draw her picture. I felt I was growing up. Afterwards we paid one or two more visits and became wiser. When we moved to Wilstone, a village near Tring in Hertfordshire, my radio and television hobby helped me pass the time and kept me out of too much trouble. Towards the end of our parents had decided to buy a village shop in Wilstone, a village near Tring, Hertfordshire.
I can remember feeling we were different as we had come from Watford to a county village. They were just different and even I thought they were stupid. I suppose they felt threatened. It was during this time that I taught myself more about Radio and amplifiers and became absorbed in this hobby. I met a man in the village called Cluk Turney who was the man to know about televisions and radios and he gave me a lot of help.
He taught me about valve amplifiers and allowed me to build a power amplifier from all the spare parts that he had. It was a push pull amplifier using two PX4 valves and a triode driver. I had to rewind the driver and output transformers in order to get it working. I learned a lot from Cluck Turney. On one occasion I was able to connect a microphone up to the amplifier that I had made and direct the speaker out of my bedroom window. I then spoke to people out side our shop from my bedroom window.
On this occasion I saw a woman in her rear garden, just opposite the shop and I called Ethel, Ethel as loud as possible saying. I heard many years latter that she thought it sounded a bit like God speaking from the sky. I later had a visit from the local policeman as I had found a 12 bore shotgun in an old barn and brought it home. When I showed it to my next-door neighbour he recognised the gun and realised who it belonged too and so he informed the local policeman to get it returned to its owner.
Whilst at Tring School a friend of mine Duncan Miller found a baby fox cub in a wood and I wanted to keep it so I took it home. Unfortunately my Grandma who had come to stay freaked out when she saw it as she was frightened and to my dismay my brother killed it and to this day I felt he was callous. He had made a knuckle-duster at school, in the metal work class, and tried it out by hitting some boy in the village. What happened was some lads had found our mopped in the field and had a go at riding it without our permission.
Not that they would know whom to ask but my brother felt he would sort them out for riding it. I think it was an excuse to use the knuckle-duster that he had made. When the police were called in he made out the knuckle duster was made as a part for the moped and my mum was certain this was true and she defended my brother to the hilt. His reputation spread and the schoolteachers began to identify me with me with him and I think they began to be wary of me too. Unfortunately Michael used to mixed with all the lads who had bad reputations and no one would dare upset them.
Village life proved too much for my mum and she became depressed due to they way things were and the trouble Michael had gotten into so it was decided to sell up and move to a new house in Aylesbury. Once we had sold the village shop mum and I moved to Oldham whilst Michael and dad moved into lodgings in Aston Clinton.
This was while the house they had bought off plan was being built. We moved to live with my aunt Edith at 26 Fleet Street, in the town where I was born and had to go to school. It was here that I first heard of the Beatles as they were playing in Oldham at that time. During my time in Oldham we were there for about three months, I built a balsa wood, controlled line, aeroplane, a radio transmitter for a remote control aircraft and learned to ice skate.
We had a very cold winter, the coldest on record and the snow fell and the streets froze over. My mum bought me a pair of second hand ice skates and I learned to skate on the frozen streets in Oldham. On this occasion I had to go back to Francis Coombe Secondary School and I renewed acquaintances with my former friends. It was during this time I made my first transistor radio set.
It was a two transistor reflex receiver and I was very proud of it, as it was the size of a matchbox. I also missed riding the moped and so I got up very early one morning and walked into Watford where I knew a motorbike was parked and took it. I drove several miles to a secret place and parked it up and went home. I later used it for joy riding with my friends. I walked miles that morning and my mum never knew about it. Michael also would visit us at Watford and see his old friends who played in a pop group and on one occasion he gave me a pair of bell-bottom trousers and a shirt, with a long pointed collar.
Michael and his friend wanted to take me to the dance that was held at Leavesdon, on a Friday or Saturday night. I really enjoyed myself there and wanted to go again. I met some of my friends from school there and one boy noticed my clothes and said that I was a Mod. Unfortunately for me after this I began to get bullied at school by a group of boys who were what you might call Jack the Lads. I learned afterward the reason and it was to do with Michael.
One of the boys was from Australia and was the ringleader of this gang and he had a girl friend at the school called Pat Petty. She was very boys dream of a girl. Well Michael had met her at the Leavesdon dance and chatted her up. I was interested in amplifiers and one day, when walking home, I was curious to take a look around a catholic church on the North Orbital Road, near Garston when I noticed a Public Address amplifier, sitting on a shelf, which was obviously used as their PA system. This amplifier became my first guitar amp, which I used in our first rock group, at a later date. My first matchbox radio.
It was during this time I obtained a circuit diagram of a two transistor reflex receiver and with the components I obtained from Tottenham Court Road, London, I built this on a small paxolin board. This was before printed circuit boards were readily available. I was very pleased with this as it had good sensitivity and selectivity and was about the size of a matchbox.
Our new house was situated on the Bedgrove estate in Aylesbury and was ready for us to move in, in April of However before we left Wilstone I had enjoyed riding a moped in an old orchard, in the village. It belonged to a friend of Michael and I was allowed to ride this moped. It was a 50 cc NSU Quickly and was kept in his orchard. Once we had moved into out new house in Aylesbury I was able to return to Wilstone and take the engine from the moped frame and put the engine in a home made go kart. I then began to ride this machine around the new roads on the housing estate.
However I was eventually stopped by the local police and warned that it was illegal to ride this Go Kart on the roads and soon after that the local newspaper came and gave me a write up in the Bucks Herald. David's do it your self-kart May On Sunday of last week a friend gave David pictured above and old moped. As he was unable to ride it he - he is too young he dismantled it.
He then made a Kart frame from some pieces of wood, four old wheels and a set of handlebars and the moped engine. Within three days it was in working condition and David estimates it will do 20 miles and hour. Incidentally David, who has lived in the town for only a month has very little real interest in engines. His main hobby is in radio construction work and one of his proudest possessions is a transistor radio, which he built that is slightly larger than a matchbox.
It was during this space of time, before starting my new school; I met another lad called Ian Morttam. We encouraged each other to steel pushbikes. In fact the first day I went to school I stole a bike to come home from school. I eventually got a Francis Barnet CC motorbike, which my brother had stolen from Aylesbury College, with some other lads. I kept this in a field on the Bedgrove estate near our home. It was great fun to have a motorbike and I would ride across the fields to school and return home during my lunch hour.
However one day some one stole my motorbike and Ian Morttram informed me that he thought he knew the person that had taken it. I went to this person's house early one morning during my paper round and found a motorbike in his garage. This ended up in me being charge with garage breaking and being put on probation for two years. My first recollection of any religious person having any effect on my life was when I was about to leave school, at the age of 15 years. My mother had spoken to a Mr K H Knight who was the proprietor of Central Bucks TV and had arranged for me to have a part time job working after school and on a Saturday.
This was until I left school and took up full time work as an apprentice to Mr Knight. I am told years latter that my letter of job application was so badly written and the spelling so awful it was laughable. However I was taken on despite my ability not to write, spell or use correct grammar, or read properly.
This was during my last year at school. She was in hot pursuit of her husband and shouting at him for doing some thing she disapproved of. I was in the workshop, with Norman Garret the other apprentice, and I thought- wow what and awful dragon of a woman and pitied Mr Knight from that moment on. I spent many hours with Ken going to people homes and soon learned that he was not faithful to his wife. Not that it bothered me, as I knew what Grace was like from our first meeting.
The idea of sexual promiscuity was very attractive to me. When we went out enjoying our selves Mrs Knight would be left at home or in the workshop minding their two children Allison and Mark. They also had a big dog called Rufus. By this time I had left school and was interested in our band, as we wanted to make music.
Ian Myers was the bass guitarist and he built his own guitar amplifier from a circuit design and published in Practical Wireless. He built the amplifier I helped him with the speaker cabinet and it was used in all our future gigs. I soon began to realise the things I enjoyed were not the things Mrs Knight approved of, or found interesting.
She was a Christian what ever that meant and I soon realise her values were not the same as mine. What I considered good and enjoyable she would call it sin and sinful. She would also complain to her husband that I was always with him and he gave her no time. It seemed she was often driven to despair by him never being in on time and being very unreliable. He would often leave her for hours whilst we were at work out on jobs. I heard this conversation over the shops intercom. Mrs Knight said yes I was a nuisance and she did not like me one bit and it was not good that I should be out with her husband all the time.
Upon hearing this I felt angry and went down the stairs to where they were and confronted them both saying that I had heard what they had said about me. They were embarrassed and I am sure did not help our relationship. I really thought Mrs Knight was an ogre. I began to memorise the verses. At that time I had no idea of the meaning of these texts of scripture but found it amusing to quote them to Mrs Knight at any in appropriate moment thinking it would embarrass her.
Well Michael had met her at the Leavesdon dance and chatted her up. Determined not to believe Bombi so heartless that she would A make me return to the place where my father died, and B desert me there. He became the company Managing Director of "Tudor Charm", a manufacturing company, in Milton Keynes and enjoyed the success of business for a season. It was a two transistor reflex receiver and I was very proud of it, as it was the size of a matchbox. Roman Catholic Church Building.
On one occasion I can remember being dressed in an old blanket made into an undercoat from an army anorak. I was standing on the corner of the street near to the workshop one Saturday morning with Mr and Mrs Knight. I quoted at the top of my voice these two scriptures in order to embarrass Mrs Knight. I am not sure how they felt about it but little did I know that one day I would learn the truth of these texts and become a preacher of the Gospel myself.
I enjoyed working for Mr Knight because he seemed to appreciate my help and abilities and would trust me to drive the van at 15 years old. On one occasion he was short of a driver and had to deliver a television so he dressed me up in a sheepskin coat and gave me dark glasses to wear with instructions to deliver a TV to a house in Quarendon. I was very pleased to do this even more when it turned out that I was delivering the TV set to one of my school friends called Gillespie. On another occasion I was given the job of replacing a complete I.
A qualified engineer in a workshop setting normally would have done this but this unconventional approach was normal to me. Mr Knight had complete confidence in me at the age of 15 or 16 years old. I am sure the customer was not at all happy at this 15 year old repairing their lovely brand new Television.
During this time I was still making music in the group and when I was 16 Mr Knight's business failed and went into liquidation so I found myself another job. I worked her until I got trouble with the police when I was dismissed at the age of 17 years. It was shortly after this time that I got into trouble with the police for breaking into a garage and stealing a motorbike. I had a Francis Barnett CC, which had been stolen from the field where I kept it and a friend of mine told me that it was in this garage, along the Tring Road.
At first I was just interested in getting my bike back but when I opened the garage door I was disappointed not to find it - just a BSA Bantam. I thought well its better than nothing so I decided to take it any way and wheeled it out of the garage and back to our field, to use it later. The police later caught me and for this first crime I was charged with garage breaking and put on probation for two years. It was after this that decided I wanted to play the electric guitar and I can remember a lad called Alan Lawrence, from Tring Secondary Modern School, having an electric guitar and bringing it to school.
He plugged it into the schools record player and it sounded great. I wanted to learn to play like him. The first guitar I owned was an electric Hofner Futurama II and a friend called Steve showed me how to play Twist and Shout and it was this that got me really interested to play properly. I put together my own guitar amplifier, using the PA amplifier that I had stolen from the Catholic Church.
I had inherited a prejudice against the Catholic Church, from my mum, and so when I took the amplifier I ignored my conscience by saying to myself they were wrong any way. I then began to get more interested in making music and during my last year at school we formed a band and we played at the end of term school dance. Our Gym teacher, Mr Pottinger, organized this event. Ian Myers was the base guitarist and later Robby Woods became our lead guitarist. On that occasion though, at the school do, Willie Barrett was lead guitarist. He was the only one of us to make musical fame. We played, "My Generation", but I knew it was not quite right and I never did find out how to play the right cords to this day.
I always thought if ever I met Pete I would ask him to show me how play those opening chords.
I really enjoyed playing with the band but was eventually sacked and it was then that Malcolm Kirkham and I began to knock around with each other. Our favourite band The Who. My favourite band was The Who. This group introduced something to music that was new. My Generation was the real hit that made the Who. I can remember hearing them, at the Grosvenor Dance Hall, in Aylesbury. There was not a band to touch them they were brilliant. We saw them on a number of occasions including places like Borehamwood and the Bedford Corn Exchange. I can remember the amplifier line up being interest in amplifiers Pet Townshend had 2X Vox guitar amplifiers, connected in parallel and John Entwhistle had 4 X 60 watt Vox bass amplifiers and their PA system was Vox columns and Shure microphones.
The volume added depth to the music and none of us had experienced anything like it before. The Who our favourite Band. Malcolm Kirkham use to be one of our singers which made 5 in the band and we use to go out together on our scooters. He had been sacked from the group because he messed about. Malcolm would always arrive late and never be in time to set up the equipment. He would always comb his hair or having to press his trousers and he general fooled around. He was nicknames CoCo the clown.
I was one of the boys. I recalled the times my brother had told me of the parties they use to have and I began to want to get involved in all the fun. Pep pills, scooter, Mod fashions, dances, girls and permissive sex. All of which I found positive and attractive as we were looking for a good time in the world. The image I had of my brother was that he was quite a character and had a way with girls. I remember that was how I wanted to be and follow him in fame.
One Saturday night out side the Grosvenor he came dressed in brightly coloured trousers and a black plastic mac wearing girls make up around the eyes. This was the in thing to do and I thought this is good and liked it. The normal mode of transport was either a Lambretta or Vespa scooter with crash bars, back rests, spare wheel carriers and mirrors. The scooters would be custom sprayed and generally a world war green Parker or black plastic cape was the uniform. All of this became the world I wanted to be in. I remember my brother coming to see us at Rockley Sands, in Bournemouth when I was away with my parents on holiday.
I must have been 15 years old. He came dressed in a brown suit with 22 inch, Oxford Bag trousers, with small turn-ups. His top was a white crew necked and red stripped tea shirt. Also brown brogue leather shoes. This was some fashion that I had not seen before. It was the Mod fashion. He told me he had to return to Aylesbury to do some repairs and tidy up mum and dads house as they had a party and the place had been wrecked. Apparently all the Aylesbury Mods and from the district had been to his party held at Mum and Dads house.
They had rolled up the carpets and put them in the garage but the bathroom sink had been pulled off the wall as some girl had got drink and sat in it. He told me of the promiscuity and it all seemed good fun. This was the year or 4 when the Beatles and Rolling Stone came to fame. I met Susan, at a Friday night dance being organised at the Aylesbury College, she was 15 and looked great.
She had blond hair in a Bob style. I was 16, wearing my navy blue Mod suite and I had arrived on my Lambretta. I asked her to dance and later asked if I could take her home. I was feeling great when she agreed and so I covered up my learner plate, which was just under the rear, number plate and took her home. This was the beginning of my first love, which only lasted a few months. When she told she wanted to finish the relationship I was heart broken and she sought to encourage me by saying I would find some one else.
I never did and had no interest in finding any one else. My only interest in girls after that was for sex alone- not friendship or anything else. During this time Malcolm and I mixed with the Mods in Aylesbury we were both 16 years old and we began to meet with these older lads and were curious to try pep pills purple hearts, black bombers and Dexedrine and smoke hashish, or grass, so we began to make some inquiries where to get some. In the mean time we would experiment smoking crushed codeine tablets and dried banana skins.
This was purely to satisfy a curiosity and to experience new things. However at 16 I went in this pub and became very embarrassed as on the wall behind the bar were displayed ladies knickers in various styles and colours. I felt embarrassed because the sight aroused me as at that time there was very little pornography and the sight of a women in a short skirt and legs was very provocative for a 16 year old, On reflection I had a very high libido. Which led to a very promiscuous life style.
Shortly after this I remember my brother coming home about 9. He had not long been released from Detention Centre. Our parents were away and I had a girl friend there. In came my brother and told me of his narrow escape from the police. About six of his friends had been out in a stolen car, not taxed or insured, when the police had stopped them along the Tring Road.
They had all jumped out and made a run for it. It was soon after this that my brother got sent to Borstal Training for some crime or other. Never the less it all seemed a good life style and I wanted more of it. I had discovered I could buy chloroform from a chemist and this was much better than sniffing carbon Tetrachloride or the glue substances people began to experiment with.
Shortly after this Malcolm Kirkham after trying something like this took it in his head he could fly on his scooter. He broke his arm and smashed his scooter in the process but fortunately not his head as he was wearing a dear stalker crash helmet he had stolen a few days before. The names of some of the lads we knew and come to mind were: They wanted fun and were the lads of Aylesbury. At that time after being sacked from the group we began going to a nightclub called the Banbury Gaff.
Here we would stay up all night taking pep pills we use to say getting blocked dancing and talking and in the morning end up in a cafe eating toast before driving back to Aylesbury. Soon after this Malcolm began to mix with the lads from Oxford and he was later sentence to some time in prison, for some crime or other. He told me at the time he had a gun and all this type of living impressed me as it seemed rather exciting.
We would spend time at the Gaff talking with other lads about the crimes we had done and planned various schemes and bragged and boasted about things we had done. Shortly after my brother came out of Borstal a form of transport was required for two. A solution to this came through my brother who persuaded me to swap my scooter for a two-seated Issetta cc bubble car.
I had inherited the scooter from my brother when he was sent to Borstal but by now it had been renovated. I had rebuilt it in the spare bedroom at home and re sprayed it British racing Green. It was a Lambretta cc. The fuel tank and tool compartment was stove enamelled gold. It had a dual seat with a passenger back rest with very little extras. There had been crazes whereby crash bars, wing mirrors, wheel racks and anything made of chrome were generally attached to such machines, but not mine.
I was proud of this Lambretta. It had to go to make way for the sky blue Bubble Car. Before this time we had to thumb lifts, to get to where we wanted too, if the scooter was out of action. We were dressed in our Mod mohair suits and carried a small suitcase with our night things in. We got as far as Ampthill and were stuck at the corner of the Ampthill to Bedford road and were about 20 miles from Bedford.
We were stuck and Michael went into a pub to get a drink whilst I stayed on the corner trying to thumb a lift. To my relief and just after Michael had gone to the pub, a two seater red coupe Jaguar pulled up to offer me a lift. I rushed up to the window of the car, carrying our small suit case, feeling very relieved that I had a lift, but at the same time anxious as my brother was still in the pub. I said to the driver cheekily would he mind waiting a minute, as my brother needs a lift as well.
The driver was fine and said OK. How ever to my surprise and amazement I realised whom the driver was it was Pete Townshend, the lead guitarist of The Who. Of course that made our day. By this Time Michael had arrived and we both squeeze into the front seat of Pete's Jaguar. We told him who we were and that we were off to Bedford to their gig at the Corn Exchange. As we drove into Bedford we stopped and Pete asked me to ask some girls the directions to where The Who were playing. Sure enough they knew and pointed us in the direction of the Corn Exchange.
It was a great evening. The bubble car belonged to David Ness of Chiltern avenue in Aylesbury, who had been given it by his brother. There was only one thing wrong with it. We had to bump start it as the starter motor did not work. Push it and the put it in gear as it was moving. David's Issetta Bubble Car. In this vehicle we had many adventures because we were liberated from the two-wheeled scooter and could cram four people in this vehicle, if we wanted. Neither of us had passed our driving test to drive a normal car but I had past my test to drive a motorbike and my license allowed me to drive the three-wheeler bubble car.
We were able to carry blankets spare clothing etc. We carried all that we needed for a night out in that case. It was ideal for catching girls. The front opened up and it could be driven with the front door open. All we did was drive up to the bird we wanted to catch and stop in front of her. Open up the door and drive forward. She had no option but to fall in and we would drive off. It was questioned was any girl safe with us around.
On one occasion we set off to Margate, on one Bank holiday. This was a custom amongst our generation of Mods. We all seemed to migrate to Yarmouth or Margate or Brighton. This was Whitsun bank holiday and Mod and Rocker riots were common. On this trip to the coast my brother was true to form he had borrowed a 0. This was not what I would have normally done because I remember how shocked I was at 11 years old a boy having air gun fights in the woods on the way home from school. I thought then how dangerous and stupid it was. However her was my brother older than I acting fearlessly. I just went along with it suppressing my natural cautiousness.
As we past through the various towns in London the air pistol was used to cause alarm. As I write I shrivel up at the thought of what was done We found it amusing to shoot at ladies bottoms as their reactions of shock was funny. As we passed through Lewisham several people must have reported the mystery air gun shooter and at least one lady was wounded. Traffic police on route to Margate stopped us. These men briefly searched our car but found nothing suspicious and let us go. My brother had hidden the pistol just in time and we did not allow this close shave stop to stop our adventure.
Persons girls bathing at night were targets for our folly and we found it amusing to see and her scream from a female. It was not intended to wound or harm but that really was inevitable. During this weekend we moved on to Ramsgate and again moved with a spirit of naughtiness decided to steel a tray of peaches from a fruit and vegetable shop. The bubble car was to be used as the get away car. The shop was half way down a hill with houses on either side of the road, it was decided I should take the peaches and my brother to drive the get away car.
I lifted the tray of peaches and jumped in the car as it rolled down the hill making a chug, chug, noise-attracting attention. Naturally we were spotted and reports were made to the police but we did not know this.