Selasa, 20 Oktober 2015

# Ebook Free Safe Harbor, by Luanne Rice

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Safe Harbor, by Luanne Rice

Safe Harbor, by Luanne Rice



Safe Harbor, by Luanne Rice

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Safe Harbor, by Luanne Rice

After every storm there is a place to return to—if you have the courage to follow your heart…

New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice has touched the hearts and lives of readers everywhere with powerful tales of love and loss...and love regained. In an unforgettable novel set on her beloved Connecticut seaside, she weaves a timeless story…

Artist Dana Underhill has always been a free spirit, traveling the world, filling her canvases with the mysterious colors of the seas she and her sister have sailed since childhood. Then on a calm, moonlit night an inexplicable “accident” occurs and Dana is called home to Hubbard’s Point to become a mother to her two young nieces, a challenge unlike any she’s ever known.

As Dana and the girls struggle to begin a new life—and to find the truth about what happened to Dana’s sister and brother-in-law—help comes in the person of an old childhood friend. Sam Trevor is now a tall, striking marine biologist, and he’s been in love with Dana for years. Although she can’t begin to contemplate opening her heart again, together Dana and Sam will discover that Hubbard’s Point is the center of endless mysteries—and endless possibilities. And as Dana rediscovers her passion as an artist and a woman, she will find more than a lifetime’s share of answers, magic, and love in the only safe harbor there is.

  • Sales Rank: #1260136 in Books
  • Brand: Bantam
  • Published on: 2003-01-01
  • Released on: 2003-01-01
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 6.86" h x 1.11" w x 4.16" l, .45 pounds
  • Binding: Mass Market Paperback
  • 432 pages
Features
  • Great product!

From Publishers Weekly
The sacred bond of sisterhood is explored in painstaking detail in Rice's newest offering (after Summer Light), a warm and weepy drama set in the picaresque seaside town of Black Hall, Conn. The novel sets sail slowly when a grief-stricken Dana Underhill returns home to care for her two nieces, Quinn and Allie, following the death of her sister, Lily, and Lily's husband, Mike, in a sailing accident. Dana, a professional painter, had intended to whisk her nieces back to France with her, but her plans are put on hold when she realizes that change may not be what's best for Quinn and Allie. Indeed, Quinn, a cigarette-smoking 12-year-old with a chip on her shoulder, is dead set against leaving, particularly since she's determined to uncover the circumstances surrounding her parents' deaths. The mystery of Mike and Lily's drowning and the state of their marriage before the accident weighs down the second half of the book, but the pace picks up when Dana's childhood acquaintance, oceanographer and Yale professor Sam Trevor, arrives to provide Dana with a shoulder to lean on and to help Quinn find the answers she seeks. While Quinn and Sam make plans to recover her parents' sailboat, Dana struggles to overcome her sister's death and to paint again. The affection between Dana and Sam is heartwarming and convincing, but the novel's finale involving the rescue of Quinn and Allie during a fierce storm with the aid of a little divine intervention is anticlimactic. Less a romance than a somber meditation on the importance of family ties, this saccharine read is buoyed by Rice's evocative prose and her ability to craft intelligent, three-dimensional characters.

Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
Dana was close enough to sister Lily to take on Lily's children when she dies. But there's no "safe harbor" here: both she and Quinn, her 12-year-old niece, have questions about Lily's death.
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Booklist
All their lives sisters Dana and Lily loved living near the ocean until Lily and her husband die on a sailboat. Almost a year later, Dana returns home to Black Hollow, Connecticut, for an exhibit of her artwork and plans to take her nieces with her back to France. At the show, Dana meets someone who shares her past, Sam Trevor, once a lonely youngster she and her sister took under their wing. A professor at Yale, Sam never forgot the sisters, especially Dana, but he enters her life just as she is leaving. Her nieces don't want to go, and during a heart-wrenching scene at the airport, Dana has a change of heart and decides to pay more attention to the increasingly attractive Sam. This paean to sisterhood and the joy of sailing is an excellent escape from the doldrums of winter, and readers who enjoyed Firefly Beach [BKL My 1 01] will happily reunite with some old friends. Patty Engelmann
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Most helpful customer reviews

1 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
Not up to Par
By Dorothy Bickar
I was rather disappointed with Safe Harbor. The characters were shallow and talked way too much. The story was a bit unbelievable and moved very very slow. It did not measure up to all Rice's other novels, and came nowhere near "Home Fires", "Cloud Nine" or" Summer Light". The story seemed to me like she was trying to crank out a story to get some spending money. Would not recommend it.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Another emotional story by Luanne Rice
By Kelley Hartsell
Courtesy of CK2S Kwips and Kritiques

Dana Underhill has just returned to Connecticut from years abroad in Paris. She is reeling from her recent divorce and now has to deal with the grief of losing her sister as well. She returns, planning to just take her two nieces back to Paris, but things have a way or turning out different than expected. Allie, the younger of the two children is taking everything in stride and working through her grief pretty well. The older of the two, Quinn is stubborn and resentful over everything, and is convinced there is more to the death of her parents then has been revealed.

Sam Trevor is an old friend of Dana who also has recently returned to town. He's always had feelings for her, even as a young boy when Dana was his sailing instructor. As he renews his friendship and makes plans with Quinn to recover her parents' sailboat, his bond to Dana grows stronger, resulting in a new love.

With Safe Harbor, once again Luanne Rice proves her talent for writing heart wrenching stories full of strong emotion and tender love. The author is skilled at representing all kinds of relationships in her stories and this one is no different. Readers will especially be drawn into Quinn's story, feeling her pain, her anger, her frustration at losing her parents. She is the rebellious preteen, but by the end of the story her behavior will be completely understood.

There were a couple flaws in the story though. The ending to the book was a bit too perfect, too predictable for readers to fully enjoy it. Also, the relationship between Dana and Sam, though well developed was a little too unbelievable. As much as one can understand and enjoy relationships between a woman and a younger man, there seemed to be too much of an age difference for this reader to totally buy it. Granted the abridged version of the novel was listened too, no actual numbers were given to show what the age gap was, but there was definitely the feeling that there was a significant difference in ages, too much possibly for some to find it believable.

? Kelley A. Hartsell, December 2005. All rights reserved.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Reading a Luanne Rice book is always a safe harbor!
By Nancy R. Katz
At a recent book signing I asked an author who were her favorite authors. She answered by saying Alice Hoffman and Luanne Rice and I shook my head in total agreement. From the first book I read by Luanne Rice, Crazy in Love in 1988, till now Ms Rice remains a very favorite author of mine whose books generally always make my top ten list at the end of the year. I even met my first online friends in a book folder on AOL when she mentioned an earlier Rice title, Blue Moon. And now my most recent read, Safe Harbor is a perfect example of why I love and look forward to any book by Luanne Rice. Combining the bonds of family life with personal needs, Ms Rice presents a portrait of characters finely etched in the minds of her readers. Characters we hate to leave at the end of the book and think about for some time afterwards.
Returning to Hubbard's Point, Conn. the scene of an earlier book, Firefly Beach and the recently published True Blue, we meet the central character, Dana Underhill, as she returns home after many years living abroad. An artist living in Paris, she is still reeling from her husband's recent affair with a model and their subsequent divorce. She claims to love her independence and few family ties but fate has something else in store for her. Several months before, her beloved sister died with her husband during a boating accident. Her nieces are now being raised by their grandmother but now Dana realizes that her mother is no longer able to care for the girls especially Quinn, a difficult and unhappy 13 year old. While Dana expects to return home and then bring her nieces back to Paris to live with her, circumstances conspire against her plans. Dana's arrival at her family home, her niece's unhappiness and the appearance of a younger man from her past, may force her to make a decision she never thought possible.
Ms. Rice captures the many moods of this book completely and perfectly. The longings of young children for their deceased parents, the needs of a woman unaccustomed to raising children and love between an older woman and a younger man. But Ms. Rice is always best at family relationships and in Safe Harbor, you will cry as I did when this authors writes about the relationship of Dana and her sister and ultimately Dana`s grief at her loss. We finish this book on a hopeful note as new relationships are forged and the characters become safe harbors for one another. And the best part is that we can visit with them once again in the third and final book in this trilogy, True Blue. I wholeheartedly recommend this book to any reader who enjoys a wonderful story and characters.

See all 39 customer reviews...

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Sabtu, 17 Oktober 2015

>> Ebook Download Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific, by Robert Leckie

Ebook Download Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific, by Robert Leckie

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Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific, by Robert Leckie

Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific, by Robert Leckie



Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific, by Robert Leckie

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Helmet for My Pillow: From Parris Island to the Pacific, by Robert Leckie

Here is one of the most riveting first-person accounts ever to come out of World War II. Robert Leckie enlisted in the United States Marine Corps in January 1942, shortly after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. In Helmet for My Pillow we follow his odyssey, from basic training on Parris Island, South Carolina, all the way to the raging battles in the Pacific, where some of the war’s fiercest fighting took place. Recounting his service with the 1st Marine Division and the brutal action on Guadalcanal, New Britain, and Peleliu, Leckie spares no detail of the horrors and sacrifices of war, painting an unvarnished portrait of how real warriors are made, fight, and often die in the defense of their country. 

    From the live-for-today rowdiness of marines on leave to the terrors of jungle warfare against an enemy determined to fight to the last man, Leckie describes what war is really like when victory can only be measured inch by bloody inch. Woven throughout are Leckie’s hard-won, eloquent, and thoroughly unsentimental meditations on the meaning of war and why we fight. Unparalleled in its immediacy and accuracy, Helmet for My Pillow will leave no reader untouched. This is a book that brings you as close to the mud, the blood, and the experience of war as it is safe to come.



Now producers Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg, and Gary Goetzman, the men behind Band of Brothers, have adapted material from Helmet for My Pillow for HBO’s epic miniseries The Pacific, which will thrill and edify a whole new generation.

  • Sales Rank: #18123 in Books
  • Published on: 2010-02-02
  • Released on: 2010-02-02
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 8.00" h x .69" w x 5.17" l, .53 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 305 pages

Review
“Helmet for My Pillow is a grand and epic prose poem.  Robert Leckie’s theme is the purely human experience of war in the Pacific, written in the graceful imagery of a human being who—somehow—survived.”—Tom Hanks


“One hell of a book! The real stuff that proves the U.S. Marines are the greatest fighting men on earth!”—Leon Uris, author of Battle Cry

About the Author
Robert Leckie was the author of more than thirty works of military history as well as Marines, a collection of short stories, and Lord, What a Family!, a memoir. Raised in Rutherford, New Jersey, he started writing professionally at age sixteen, covering sports for The Bergen Evening Record of Hackensack. He enlisted in the United States Marine Corps on the day following the attack on Pearl Harbor, going on to serve as a machine gunner and as an intelligence scout and participating in all 1st Marine Division campaigns except  Okinawa.  Leckie was awarded five battle stars, the Naval Commendation Medal with Combat V, and the Purple Heart.  Helmet for My Pillow (Random House, 1957) was his first book; it received the Marine Corps Combat Correspondents Association award upon publication.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One


Boot

A cutting wind slanted up Church Street in the cheerless dawn of January 5, 1942. That day I departed for the United States Marines.

The war with Japan was not yet four weeks old, Wake Island had fallen. Pearl Harbor was a real tragedy, a burning bitter humiliation. Hastily composed war songs were on the lips of everyone, their heavy patriotism failing to compensate for what they lacked in tune and spirit. Hysteria seemed to crouch behind all eyes.

But none of this meant much to me. I was aware of my father beside me, bending into the wind with me. I could feel the wound in my lower regions, still fresh, still sore. The sutures had been removed a few days earlier.

I had sought to enlist the day after Pearl Harbor, but the Marines had insisted that I be circumcised. It cost me a hundred dollars, although I am not sure to this day whether I paid the doctor or not. But I am certain that few young men went off to war in that fateful time so marked.

We had come across the Jersey meadows, riding the Erie commuter line, and then on the ferry over the Hudson River to downtown New York. Breakfast at home had been subdued. My mother was up and about; she did not cry. It was not a heart-rending leave-taking, nor was it brave, resolute—any of those words that fail to describe the thing.

It was like so much else in this war that was to produce unbounded heroism, yet not a single stirring song: it was resigned. She followed me to the door with sad eyes and said, “God keep you.”

It had been a silent trip across the meadows and it was a wordless good-by in front of the bronze revolving doors at Ninety, Church Street. My father embraced me quickly, and just as quickly averted his face and left. The Irish doorman measured me and smiled.

I went inside and joined the United States Marines.

The captain who swore us in reduced the ceremony to a jumble. We all held up our hands. We put them down when he lowered his. That way we guessed we were marines.

The master gunnery sergeant who became our momentary shepherd made the fact plainer to us. Those rich mellow blasphemous oaths that were to become so familiar to me flowed from his lips with the consummate ease of one who had spent a lifetime in vituperation. I would meet his masters later. Presently, as he herded us across the river to Hoboken and a waiting train, he seemed to be beyond comparison. But he was gentle and kind enough when he said good-by to the thirty or forty of us who boarded the train.

He stood at the head of our railroad car—a man of middle age, slender, and of a grace that was on the verge of being ruined by a pot belly. He wore the Marine dress blues. Over this was the regulation tight-fitting overcoat of forest green. Green and blue has always seemed to me an odd combination of colors, and it seemed especially so then; the gaudy dark and light blue of the Marine dress sheathed in sedate and soothing green.

“Where you are going it will not be easy,” the gunnery sergeant said. “When you get to Parris Island, you’ll find things plenty different from civilian life. You won’t like it! You’ll think they’re overdoing things. You’ll think they’re stupid! You’ll think they’re the cruelest, rottenest bunch of men you ever ran into! I’m going to tell you one thing. You’ll be wrong! If you want to save yourself plenty of heartache you’ll listen to me right now: you’ll do everything they tell you and you’ll keep your big mouths shut!”

He could not help grinning at the end. No group of men ever had a saner counselor, and he knew it; but he could not help grinning. He knew we would ignore his every word.

“Okay, Sarge,” somebody yelled. “Thanks, Sarge.”

He turned and left us.

We called him “Sarge.” Within another twenty-four hours we would not dare address a lowly Pfc. without the cringing “sir.” But today the civilian shine was still upon us. We wore civvies; Hoboken howled around us in the throes of trade; we each had the citizen’s polite deprecation of the soldier, and who among us was not certain that he was not long for the ranks?

Our ride to Washington was silent and uneventful. But once we had arrived in the capital and had changed trains the atmosphere seemed to lift. Other Marine recruits were arriving from all over the east. Our contingent was the last to arrive, the last to be crammed aboard the ancient wooden train that waited, puffing, dirty-in-the-dark, smelling of coal—waited to take us down the coast to South Carolina. Perhaps it was because of the dilapidated old train that we brightened and became gay. Such a dingy, tired old relic could not help but provoke mirth. Someone pretended to have found a brass plate beneath one of the seats, and our car rocked with laughter as he read, “This car is the property of the Philadelphia Museum of American History.” We had light from kerosene lamps and heat from a potbellied stove. Draughts seemed to stream from every angle and there was a constant creaking and wailing of wood and wheels that sounded like an endless keening. Strange old train that it was, I loved it.

Comfort had been left behind in Washington. Some of us already were beginning to revel in the hardship of the train ride. That intangible mystique of the marine was somehow, even then, at work. We were having it rough, which is exactly what we expected and what we had signed up for. That is the thing: having it rough. The man who has had it roughest is the man to be most admired. Conversely, he who has had it the easiest is the least praiseworthy.

Those who wished to sleep could cat-nap on the floor while the train lurched down through Virginia and North Carolina. But these were few. The singing and the talk were too exciting.

The boy sitting next to me—a handsome blond-haired youth from south Jersey—turned out to have a fine high voice. He sang several songs alone. There being a liberal leavening of New York Irish among us, he was soon singing Irish ballads.

Across the aisle there was another boy, whom I shall call Armadillo because of his lean and pointed face. He was from New York and had attended college there. Being one of the few college men present, he had already established a sort of literary clique.

The Armadillo’s coterie could not equal another circle farther down the car. This had at its center a stocky, smiling redhead. Red had been a catcher for the St. Louis Cardinals and had once hit a home run at the Polo Grounds off the great Carl Hubbell.

There was no measuring the impact of such a celebrity on our group, composed otherwise of mediocrities like myself. Red had been in the big time. He had held daily converse with men who were nothing less than the idols of his newfound comrades. It was quite natural they should ring him round; consult him on everything from pitching form to the Japanese General Staff.

“Whaddya think it’ll be like at Parris Island, Red?”

“Hey, Red—you think the Japs are as tough as the newspapers say they are?”

It is an American weakness. The success becomes the sage. Scientists counsel on civil liberty; comedians and actresses lead political rallies; athletes tell us what brand of cigarette to smoke. But the redhead was equal to it. It was plain in his case what travel and headlines can do. He was easily the most poised of us all.

But I suspect even Red’s savoir-faire got a rude jolt when we arrived in Parris Island. We had been taken from the railroad station by truck. When we had dismounted and had formed a motley rank in front of the red brick mess hall, we were subjected to the classic greeting.

“Boys,” said the sergeant who would be our drill instructor. “Boys—Ah want to tell yawl something. Give youah hearts to Jesus, boys—cause youah ass belongs to me!”

Then he fell us in after our clumsy civilian fashion and marched us into the mess hall.

There were baloney and lima beans. I had never eaten lima beans before, but I did this time; they were cold.

The group that had made the trip from New York did not survive the first day in Parris Island. I never saw the blond singer again, nor most of the others. Somehow sixty of us among the hundreds who had been aboard that ancient train, became a training platoon, were assigned a number and placed under the charge of the drill sergeant who had delivered the welcoming address.

Sergeant Bellow was a southerner with a fine contempt for northerners. It was not that he favored the southerners; he merely treated them less sarcastically. He was big. I would say six feet four inches, two hundred thirty pounds.

But above all he had a voice.

It pulsed with power as he counted the cadence, marching us from the administration building to the quartermaster’s. It whipped us, this ragged remnant, and stiffened our slouching civilian backs. Nowhere else but in the Marine Corps do you hear that peculiar lilting cadence of command.

“Thrip-faw-ya-leahft, thrip-faw-ya-leahft.”

It sounds like an incantation; but it is merely the traditional “three-four-your-left” elongated by the southern drawl, made sprightly by being sung. I never heard it done better than by our sergeant. Because of this, and because of his inordinate love of drill, I have but one image of him: striding stiff-backed a few feet apart from us, arms thrust out, hands clenched, head canted back, with the whole body following and the great voice ceaselessly bellowing, “Thrip-faw-ya-leahft, thrip-faw-ya-leahft.”

Sergeant Bellow marched us to the quartermaster’s. It was there we were stripped of all vestiges of personality. It is the quartermasters who make soldiers, sailors and marines. In their presence, one strips down. With each divestment, a trait is lost; the discard of a garment marks the quiet death of an idiosyncrasy. I take off my socks; gone is a propensity for stripes, or clocks, or checks, or even solids; ended is a tendency to combine purple socks with brown tie. My socks henceforth will be tan. They will neither be soiled, nor rolled, nor gaudy, nor restrained, nor holey. They will be tan. The only other thing they may be is clean.

So it is with it all, until one stands naked, struggling with an embarrassment that is entirely lost on the laconic shades who work in quartermaster sheds.

Within—in the depths the psychiatrists call subliminal—a human spark still sputters. It will never go quite out. Its vigor or its desuetude is in exact proportion to the number of miles a man may put between himself and his camp.

Most helpful customer reviews

258 of 269 people found the following review helpful.
Profound and unique insight into the WWII Pacific experience
By Lori D. Smith
First, I must admit a particular regard for this book as the granddaughter of Bill Smith (whom Leckie refers to as 'Hoosier'), who served with Leckie in How Company. Leckie offers nuanced insight into the ways in which he and his friends understood national military service, the `enemy', and the war more generally, and how these perspectives or ideas evolved among the men from North Carolina to Guadalcanal, Australia, and New Britain. Leckie steers clear from prototypes or cliches; there is no enblematic enlisted man or officer. Rather, these men are treated as real people coping (or not) with the profound uncertainty of their situation.

Perhaps this appreciation says more about my own lack of experience with combat/warfare. Thinking of Guadalcanal from a macro or military history perspective, it is easy to take for granted that marines' objectives - and the most efficacious means to pursue them - were always apparent to those involved. In this context, Leckie's account of warfare as a learning process was deep, reflexive, and fascinating. For example, he describes: 1) the marines' first reactions to air battle and subsequent adjustment to air battle as a simple process of attrition; and 2) the uncertainty confronted by officers at various stages, against the backdrop of the US' limited military experience in the Pacific or in jungles more generally. In this way, Leckie also makes apparent the need - and efficacy - of severe hierarchy. For this reason, I think that reviewers' arguments positing a lack of regard for officers deserve qualification.

***UPDATE/REFLECTIONS***
Hoosier was wounded and evacuated early in the Battle of Peleliu; I believe that Chuckler and Runner were wounded later and evacuated with Leckie. Leckie and his friends stayed in touch - in the summer of 1985, my grandfather and his wife, as well as Runner (Juergens) and his wife, went to visit Leckie in New Jersey. There Leckie decidated a park in their honor, in honor of all marines who fought in the Pacific Theater (I uploaded a photo of the dedication plaque in the 'customer image gallery').

Although Hoosier never liked to share his experiences from the war, my father considers the book to be true to his character. And, while the HBO miniseries diverges considerably from the book, Hoosier's sense of humor appears true to form (the book provides far greater nuance and depth, different dialogue, and events unfolded differently). This edition of the book also includes a few photographs of Leckie, Runner, Hoosier, and others - some taken in their dress blues, and others on Guadalcanal.

148 of 157 people found the following review helpful.
That was victory
By wogan
`Helmet for My Pillow" is a reissue from 1957. My one and only complaint is my usual one with reissues...please put in an updated introduction...tell us what has happened with the author or life, don't just reissue it and do nothing else. This will be made into a mini series which is probably the reason for the reissue. No matter what the reason it's definitely worth reading. Robert Leckie's descriptions create a picture; from his drill sergeant..." but above all he had a voice" to the exultation of leave in Australian after the battle of Guadalcanal. There are black and white pictures throughout the pages of the men he served with and of Leckie which definitely helps with the mind's pictures.

But most of all this book is remarkable. I have heard men describe their experiences with jungle warfare, both from WWII and Vietnam, but never with the awful clarity that is done in these pages. I grew up in the army and have been with the military all of my life and can agree with so much of what is said here, and said with far more ability than almost any other book I have read.
Leakie pulls no punches, not in the way many of the enlisted were treated by their officers or in his own `mistakes' that landed in him the brig.
Historically there is much in here that I have never read before, and I have read and listened to much. There are stories of the hunger the fighting men felt during battle and how Japanese forces would try to sneak into their camps at night for food. Then there are the descriptions of the `widow makers', trees that were weakened by artillery fire that killed 25 men as they broke and fell on them.
This is truly an incredible account, eye opening and worthy of your time and effort to read.

116 of 125 people found the following review helpful.
Absolutely spellbinding. Couldn't put it down.
By R. KELSEY
One of the best personal memoirs of war I have ever read. Leckie is brutally honest about anything and everything to do with his experiences in the 1st Marine Division during WWII. Incredibly impressed by his sensitive candor and philosophical reflections on the impact of war on human beings. Having been an officer myself, I was truly shocked to read his descriptions of Marine officers blatantly stealing from enlisted men. I guess in wartime, they were willing to let anyone become an officer. Leckie pulls no punches but shows remarkable understanding, forgiveness, and mercy towards all his comrades and even the enemy. This book is a classic and a must-read for anyone interested in what combat in the Pacific theater was really like and about young men's reaction to war. Rest in peace, Robert Leckie. For those who fell, there is no hell. I thank God knowing you have been reunited with your comrades. Thank you for writing this book. It was a privilege to have read it. A great gift to those who have never known the horrors and sacrifice of war.

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Jumat, 16 Oktober 2015

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Babylon Rising: The Edge of Darkness (Babylon Rising (Paperback)), by Tim LaHaye

Tim LaHaye’s most exciting series ever, Babylon Rising, continues with this explosive new installment, including more revelations than ever before. In The Edge of Darkness, LaHaye reveals the meaning behind some of the most carefully guarded Biblical prophecies to expose a conspiracy with terrifying consequences for our modern world.

This time Michael Murphy sets off in search of the Lost Temple of Dagon and the dark secrets of the strange god once worshipped by the ancient Philistines. His quest will lead to a final confrontation with an old enemy and uncover one of the Bible’s most feared warnings–a prophecy of false miracles, false messiahs, and ultimate evil that will be fulfilled in our time...and that not even Murphy can stop once it’s begun.

Once again Tim LaHaye combines his unmatched insight into Biblical prophecy with his unique skills as a master storyteller to deliver a suspense thriller of nonstop action with a thought-provoking message for our troubled times.

  • Sales Rank: #436676 in Books
  • Published on: 2008-04-29
  • Released on: 2008-04-29
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 6.90" h x 1.20" w x 4.20" l,
  • Binding: Mass Market Paperback
  • 448 pages

About the Author
Dr. Tim Lahaye is a renowned prophecy scholar, minister, and author. His Left Behind® series is the bestselling Christian fiction series of all time. He and his wife, Beverly, live in southern California. They have four children and nine grandchildren.

Bob Phillips, Ph.D., is the author of more than eighty books. He is a licensed counselor and the executive director for the Pointman Leadership Institute.


From the Hardcover edition.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One


Call it instinct, intuition, or just plain street smarts–whatever it was sent a tingle down Murphy's spine. The clicking noise caused him to leap off the seat of the roller-coaster car as fast as his six-foot-three-inch frame would allow. He sailed over the back, clutching the seat with both hands. As his feet landed on the bumper that ran around the car, he hunkered down and held his breath.

It was not a moment too soon. A rush of wind tousled his hair as two eighty-pound blocks of cement smashed into the seat where he had just been sitting.

Another millisecond and I would have been dead, he thought. How do I keep getting into things like this?

***

It was one of those days when everything inside of Murphy said Don't go to work. It was too beautiful a day to be inside a classroom teaching biblical archaeology. As he reluctantly gathered his papers and stuffed them into his briefcase, the words of Mark Twain echoed in his mind: Do something every day that you don't want to do; this is the golden rule for acquiring the habit of doing your duty without pain.

Murphy never tired of the scenic drive to school and the campus of Preston University. There was something deeply attractive about the lush greenery of the South and the beauty of the magnolia blossoms. Parking his car in the teachers' lot, he meandered up the tree-lined walkway toward his office near the Memorial Lecture Hall. The smell of jasmine in the air filled his senses.

Students were sitting under the trees. Some were studying, but most were just talking with their friends. One group tossed a Frisbee back and forth. Murphy recalled his days as a student. Life was so much simpler then. They don't even realize how great these years are.

The unbidden image of Laura swept across his mind, the moments of joy and laughter they had shared during their marriage. Those happy years before she had been murdered by Talon. The pain tore at his insides, and a sigh escaped his lips. He shook the memories away, unwilling to let the grief overwhelm him.

He reached his office, opened the door, and groaned. His desk was stacked high with student test papers and book reports that needed to be reviewed. I think I'll delegate those to Shari. She'll hate me, but isn't that what assistants are for? Doing all the jobs you don't like?

***

Shari had been in the laboratory for almost an hour. She was peering through a microscope at an envelope when Murphy entered.

"I know, I know. You're wondering what I'm doing here so early."

Murphy smiled a Cheshire cat grin as he looked at Shari. Her very light complexion and sparkling green eyes contrasted her black hair. The ponytails coming out from each side of her head were hanging down, almost covering the microscope. She had on her favorite white lab coat.

"I know you love it here," he said. "Maybe I should move in a bed and then you won't have to go home at night."

She looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. "Like you don't get involved in your work!"

"Who, me?" Murphy set his briefcase down. "What are you looking at?"

Shari sat up with a guilty look on her face. "Oh, just something that came in the mail for you."

"For me? Why are you looking at my mail through a microscope?"

She smiled, with a twinkle in her eye. "I'm just trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From what I think might be inside."

"This all sounds very mysterious. What are you talking about?"

"I think it's a letter from your admirer," she said with a smirk.

"Let me guess. Does my admirer's name start with an M?"

"Not bad, Doc, for so early in the morning."

Shari handed the letter to Murphy. "I was comparing this handwriting with some of the other letters you've received from your deranged admirer. They're the same."

Murphy held the envelope up to the light and saw what looked like a three-by-five card inside.

"So why don't you open it?"

Murphy smiled. Shari was forever curious about anything that might be mysterious. He opened the envelope, took out the card, and began to read.


Row, row, row your boat gently around the lake
Walk and talk and have a piece of cake

Ride, ride, ride the trolley
Be sure to stop and visit Molly

Dance, dance, dance the choo-choo
Visit the zoo and casino too

Round, round, round you go
Don't be depressed by the big tornado

Search, search, search and find
Be sure not to lose your mind

Seek, seek, seek, like a mouse
You may even find a fun house


"So much for poetry!" said Shari. "What in the world do you think he means? Maybe he's finally lost it."

"Well, Methuselah is strange, eccentric, even sadistic . . . but he's not crazy. His clues and riddles have led us to many archaeological finds in the past." Murphy stroked his chin, lost in thought. "He must have some new trophy for us to search for."

"Can you make heads or tails of this one?"

Murphy ran his fingers through his brown hair and paced around the room. Shari just smiled and watched her boss. She knew it was best not to disturb him once the mental wheels were in motion.

Murphy went to his computer and got on the Internet. Shari stepped behind him and watched dubiously as he typed in the words "Amusement Parks." After another fifteen minutes of searching, he turned to her.

"I think I may have the answer to the riddle."

"Well, pray tell, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Don't keep me in suspense."

"The first clue for me was the word 'trolley.' At the turn of the century, one of the main modes of transportation in larger cities was the electrical trolley line."

"So? What does that have to do with the rest of the riddle?"

"Hang on to your ponytails. It says here: Electrical companies in the early 1900s charged the trolley companies a straight fee for the use of electricity. Regardless of the number of people that rode the trolley, the electrical fee was the same. Owners of the trolleys tried to devise a way to get more customers to ride. The plan they settled on was to build amusement parks at the end of the trolley lines. This would encourage more travel and generate more revenue. Not a bad idea, huh?"

"I think maybe you're off your trolley this time."

"Cute, Shari. Just hear me out. The phrase 'visit Molly' is the key to the riddle. In 1910, Lakewood Amusement Park was built at the end of the trolley line in Charlotte, North Carolina. At that time it was three miles west of the city. Its design was similar to that of Coney Island and it became one of the most attractive parks in the South."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Genevieve Murphy."

"Who is Genevieve Murphy?"

"My grandmother. She used to live in Charlotte and I would visit her in the summers. She would tell me stories about growing up in the South. One of her stories was about a trolley park with a lake. I remember her talking about riding on a roller coaster. She loved it. She would ride it two or three times each time she visited the park."

"Go on, I'm still listening."

"Lakewood Park had a lake with rowboats–Row, row, row your boat gently around the lake. Walk and talk and have a piece of cake. The lake had a walkway around it with concession stands. They also had a half-mile-long roller coaster formerly called the Scenic Railway. Its nickname was Molly's Madness. My grandmother sometimes referred to it as 'riding old Molly.' The park also had a merry-go-round that could seat a hundred people. They had a shooting range. They had a petting zoo. They had a dance hall that was over part of the lake, and they had a casino. All of those attractions tie in with Methuselah's riddle."

"What about being depressed by the big tornado?"

"I think that's the clincher, Shari. In 1933, the Great Depression bankrupted Lakewood Park. People didn't have money to spend on rides and games. In 1936, a large tornado hit the area and trashed the park. The heavy rains that followed washed out the dam and caused the lake to overflow. Repairs were never made, and the park closed for good."

"Bummer. Is there anything remaining from the original park today?"

"No. I believe they built over that area years ago. There is one thing, however. There were rumors that the owners of the park were in the process of constructing an underground amusement area in the form of a fun house. It was supposed to have rolling barrels, slides, roller bridges, a human roulette wheel, a maze of mirrors, and a ride called the Tunnel of Fear."

"And all of that was going to be built underground?"

"That was the rumor. Maybe they did build it but didn't open it to the public. Maybe that's what the phrase Seek, seek, seek like a mouse–you may even find a fun house means. Methuselah is telling me to look for something. Probably old building records that date back to the 1930s. The fun house may still be there somewhere underground in Charlotte."

Shari recognized the glint in Murphy's eye. "You're not really going to try and find out, are you? Need I remind you that Methuselah has tried to kill you on a number of occasions?!"

"I know, I know. But his clues have helped us find the golden head of Nebuchadnezzar, Noah's Ark, and the famous Handwriting on the Wall. I'm curious as to what new archaeological find he might lead us to."

"That's just the problem. You're too curious."

She might as well have been talking to the wall. His mind was already made up.

***

Murphy's alarm sounded at 5:00 a.m. He moaned a little and shut it off.

Well, time for a new adventure.

He wanted to get up early enough to have breakfast and make the two-and-a-half-hour drive from Raleigh to Charlotte. He had called the day he received Methuselah's riddle and found out that the Hall of Records opened at nine in the morning.

No telling what the old coot has in store for me, he thought. I'd better be prepared.

Murphy loaded his backpack with water, a knife, a hatchet, a first-aid kit, a compass, some rope, and a few other items. He looked around the room trying to think of anything else he should bring along.

Laser, he thought.

He went to the closet and pulled out a black, five-foot-long by one-foot-wide, impact-resistant case that contained Laser. He opened the case and smiled. His hand glided across the laminated carbon-fiber-compound bow. Instinctively he checked the draw system of cables and eccentric pulleys mounted at the limb tips. They gave him the power to shoot an arrow, as straight as a laser, at up to 330 feet per second.

This may come in handy. Who knows what Methuselah is up to this time?

Ever since Murphy was a teenager, he'd been interested in archery. It was a precise discipline and he had become a serious bow marksman. His perfectly aimed arrows would shoot like tiny guided missiles at their target. Laser had helped him on more than one occasion–even against one of Talon's falcons in the Pyramid of the Winds.

A dozen arrows, he thought. That should be enough.

***

The trip to Charlotte gave Murphy time to think. He cringed as he remembered how Methuselah pitted him against a lion in the warehouse building in Raleigh. He still had the scar on his shoulder as a reminder. Then there was the Cave of the Waters, where he'd almost drowned trying to save the two German shepherd puppies. And the time when Methuselah cut the cable he was walking on over the Royal Gorge in Colorado. Oh, yeah, and the rattlesnakes that dropped on him in the Reed Gold Mine.

Methuselah is one very strange man, he thought. He must sit awake nights dreaming up these traps for me. And I just keep playing the game his way, risking my life to try to solve his riddles. So who's the crazy one?

Murphy stopped first at the main library. He spent an hour looking through old newspaper clippings from the Charlotte Gazette. He was about to quit when he saw a small article dated April 12, 1929.

TUNNEL OF FEAR

Jesse P. East and Roland Kalance, owners of the Lakewood Park and Trolley Company, have planned a new attraction at their park. It is to be called the Tunnel of Fear. It will be a ride only for the brave of heart. It will be part of a new underground fun house. Construction will begin in September and should take no longer than a year and a half to complete. This reporter has been told that the construction cost may mount to an astounding $53,000.

Floyd Cornford–Reporter


Murphy took a deep breath. Well, Methuselah said to "Search, search, search and find."

Murphy spent the next four hours in the county Hall of Records, mostly working his way through the endless red tape and the frustration of government bureaucracy. He had to invoke the Freedom of Information Act with a number of different people before he finally got to look at some plans.

He gradually realized that the names of streets on the old maps were not the same as the current ones. He asked one of the clerks to assist him.

"Mr. Murphy, as far as I can tell, Lakewood Park used to be located between what is now called Lakeview Street and Norwood Drive to the north, Parkway Avenue to the east, and Parkside Drive to the south."

"Do you have any idea what is now in that area?" asked Murphy.

"Well, my map indicates an electrical substation and what looks to be about ten warehouse units where the lake was. They are north of Parkside Drive. There are now four large warehouse buildings south of Parkside. They would have been outside of the lake."

Murphy smiled. "I get the impression from these old building plans that the fun house that Mr. East and Mr. Kalance were supposed to build would be located under one of those new warehouses. Right?"

The clerk examined the 1929 plans. "I think you may be correct. Look over here on the west side of the fun house. It looks like a shaft was to have been dug into the ground. If they did build it, that's how the workers got in and out while they were digging out the area. It was to become the entrance from the casino down to the fun house."

"Do you have any idea if they ever completed the project?"

"That was about sixty-five years ago. I wasn't even born yet," said the clerk as he sifted through some old and yellowing papers.

"Here's a note from one of the inspectors, a Mr. Fritz Schuler. He indicates that most of the project was completed. All they had to get was a final inspection, but it was put off due to insufficient funds to complete the project."

Murphy smiled to himself.

"That seems to be all the information we have. I hope this has been helpful to you, Mr. Murphy."

"Yes, you've been a great help. Thank you for your time and patience."

From AudioFile
Paul Michael narrates Book Four of this prophetic fiction series in a mellow voice. This episode reveals the meaning behind biblical prophecies that predict a worldwide conspiracy. Archaeologist Michael Murphy's first meeting with the mysterious Methuselah ends the life-threatening riddles he used to draw Murphy into each adventure. A softly accented Irish brogue characterizes Michael's depiction of Isis, Murphy's friend and research partner. Many characters are portrayed with soft Italian accents in this Indiana Jones-style adventure. Michael skillfully captures the tension and personalities of the mysterious Seven and their goals of world dominion. Fast paced, well-plotted, and filled with rich characterizations, this thriller won't disappoint. G.D.W. © AudioFile 2006, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine

Most helpful customer reviews

29 of 31 people found the following review helpful.
Great Book, Just don't start here
By Amazon Customer
I have been introduced to the writing of Mr. Lahaye in this Babylon Rising series, and have found that I do enjoy his writing. this is a series about an archeologist named Micheal Murphy and his race against evil forces to find biblical treasures and keep them out of the hands of a mysterious group called the seven who want to launch a plan that will begin the end times.

This book is what I would call a transitional piece in that series and therefore I would highly recommend that the reader read the begiining of the series first, altough books 2 and 3 could read as a stand alone this book requires one to know the characters and the story line. I love this series and after reading this title can't wait for the next book in the series.

31 of 35 people found the following review helpful.
riveting thriller
By A Customer
At Preston College, biblical archeologist Michael Murphy receives another letter from Methuselah that contains a riddle. After figuring out what it means, Michael travels to the underground funhouse in Charlotte where he battles and defeats Ninja killers. He finds another riddle that he deciphers that focuses on Aaron's Rod and the Golden Jar of Manna that was in the Ark of the Covenant before it was lost to the Philistines.

Michael's friend Isis, also an archeologist, researches where those items might be found and determines the most likely spot is the Temple of Dagon in Israel Murphy, who loves finding artifacts that prove the genuineness of the bible sets off to make his latest discovery, but is unaware that an old adversary is following him with the intent of killing him before he interferes with the powerful plans of the Seven, a group who manipulates, from behind the scenes, world events; they want the False prophet brought to the attention of the globe in preparation for the Antichrist to rise tom power. Michael knows of the Seven from Methuselah, but refuses to let them scare him off his quest to prove that everything written in the bible is fact.

Book four of the Babylon Rising series provides deep explanations about the enigmatic Seven and their goals, who Methuselah is, and why he assists Murphy, and how the false prophets are fooling people. Murphy is an Indiana Jones type adventurer with strong beliefs in God that sustain him; he is flawed and prone to doubts when he makes difficult decisions as a modern day Diogenes hunting for the truth. Readers will enjoy his exploits as THE EDGE OF DARKNESS is a riveting thriller.

Harriet Klausner

8 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
Prior fans won't be disappointed!
By Midwest Book Review
Book 4 of the 'Babylon Rising' series requires prior familiarity with the series for smooth entry into this story, with its vivid reading by Paul Michael and its new installment which blends a conspiracy with Biblical interpretation and drama. Here Michael Murphy's quest leads to a revelation that one of the Bible's most dangerous prophecies is about to come true. It's hard to stop listening to this riveting thriller: prior fans won't be disappointed!

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Kamis, 15 Oktober 2015

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Louis L'Amour Gift Set: Long Ride Home, Borden Chantry, Californios, Son of a Wanted Man, to Tame a Land, by Louis L'Amour

  • Sales Rank: #5737744 in Books
  • Published on: 1990-09
  • Format: Box set
  • Original language: English
  • Binding: Paperback

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Minggu, 11 Oktober 2015

~ Free PDF Fields of Fire, by James Webb

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Fields of Fire, by James Webb

They each had their reasons for being a soldier.

They each had their illusions. Goodrich came from Harvard. Snake got the tattoo — Death Before Dishonor — before he got the uniform. And Hodges was haunted by the ghosts of family heroes.

They were three young men from different worlds plunged into a white-hot, murderous realm of jungle warfare as it was fought by one Marine platoon in the An Hoa Basin, 1969. They had no way of knowing what awaited them. Nothing could have prepared them for the madness to come. And in the heat and horror of battle they took on new identities, took on each other, and were each reborn in fields of fire....

Fields of Fire is James Webb’s classic, searing novel of the Vietnam War, a novel of poetic power, razor-sharp observation, and agonizing human truths seen through the prism of nonstop combat. Weaving together a cast of vivid characters, Fields of Fire captures the journey of unformed men through a man-made hell — until each man finds his fate.

  • Sales Rank: #82332 in Books
  • Brand: Webb, James H.
  • Published on: 2001-08-28
  • Released on: 2001-08-28
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 6.85" h x 1.10" w x 4.17" l, .52 pounds
  • Binding: Mass Market Paperback
  • 496 pages

Review
“In my opinion, the finest of the Vietnam novels.”
— Tom Wolfe

“Few writers since Stephen Crane have portrayed men at war with such a ring of steely truth.”
— The Houston Post

“A novel of such fullness and impact, one is tempted to compare it to Norman Mailer’s The Naked and the Dead.”
— The Oregonian


Look for these other Bantam novels by James Webb:

The Emperor’s General

and on sale now in hardcover:

Lost Soldiers

From the Inside Flap
They each had their reasons for being a soldier.
They each had their illusions. Goodrich came from Harvard. Snake got the tattoo -- Death Before Dishonor -- before he got the uniform. And Hodges was haunted by the ghosts of family heroes.
They were three young men from different worlds plunged into a white-hot, murderous realm of jungle warfare as it was fought by one Marine platoon in the An Hoa Basin, 1969. They had no way of knowing what awaited them. Nothing could have prepared them for the madness to come. And in the heat and horror of battle they took on new identities, took on each other, and were each reborn in fields of fire....
Fields of Fire is James Webb's classic, searing novel of the Vietnam War, a novel of poetic power, razor-sharp observation, and agonizing human truths seen through the prism of nonstop combat. Weaving together a cast of vivid characters, Fields of Fire captures the journey of unformed men through a man-made hell -- until each man finds his fate.

From the Back Cover
They each had their reasons for being a soldier. They each had their illusions. Goodrich came from Harvard. Snake got the tattoo -- Death Before Dishonor -- before he got the uniform. And Hodges was haunted by the ghosts of family heroes. They were three young men from different worlds plunged into a white-hot, murderous realm of jungle warfare as it was fought by one Marine platoon in the An Hoa Basin, 1969. They had no way of knowing what awaited them. Nothing could have prepared them for the madness to come. And in the heat and horror of battle they took on new identities, took on each other, and were each reborn in fields of fire....

Fields of Fire is James Webb's classic, searing novel of the Vietnam War, a novel of poetic power, razor-sharp observation, and agonizing human truths seen through the prism of nonstop combat. Weaving together a cast of vivid characters, Fields of Fire captures the journey of unformed men through a man-made hell -- until each man finds his fate.

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110 of 115 people found the following review helpful.
Outstanding War Novel
By Charles W. Houseworth
I read Jarhead on a whim earlier this past week. Anthony Swofford, the author, is a gifted young writer. But the book left me feeling empty, even angry. There was an attitude about Swofford and many of his Marine Corps buddies that just rubbed me the wrong way. Whiney might be the right word. Furthermore, Swofford through the course of the book seems to have been in a serious, depressive state that probably required professional help. It does not appear that he received that help prior to being discharged from the Marine Corps. Based on several of the Jarhead reviews I read on Amazon, I then read James Webb's Fields of Fire. Granted, it was a novel and it was based on the Vietnam war, not the first Iraq war. But the book was much more satisfying. In fact, it was a terrific read. Webb's description of war, and how Marines of various backgrounds experienced and dealt with it, was unforgettable. Until now, I thought that Anton Myrer's epic Once and Eagle was the best war novel I had ever read. Fields of Fire rivals it. It is not nearly as lengthy as Myrer's novel, and the characters are not developed quite as well, but the prose and the realism are absolutely first rate. So, here's my recommendation. First read Jarhead. Its an easy read, its popular, and you can appreciate a great young writer from whom we will be hearing much in the future. Then read Fields of Fire. Webb, like Swofford, has also been there and done that. Together the books provide two very interesting compares and contrasts of the Marine Corps infantry in wartime situations. My bet is you will be much more satisfied with the latter.

49 of 49 people found the following review helpful.
Best Vietnam War Novel, Bar None
By Mouthpiece
I started reading novels about Nam when I got home from the Army in 1977 and have read a lot of them. Without a doubt, this is the best one I have read - over and over again through the years. James Webb brings a squad of grunts at the end of the pipeline in Vietnam to life. Every man in the squad has a nickname: Snake (you will come to love him), Phony, Senator, Cannonball, Bagger, Waterbull, Wild Man, Baby Cakes, Ogre, etc. Each character is developed and the background of the main characters before they became part of the Corps is flashbacked to. The squad is commanded by a newly commissioned 2nd Lt. named Robert E. Lee Hodges, a real grit as Snake says, but one who knows how to call in artillery support when needed in a hurry. The utter futility of patrolling endlessly through the An Hoa valley as "bait", trying to draw an elusive enemy out to fight comes through loud and clear. The firefights are breathtaking and the sheer terror of having the perimeter overrun by sappers or being on an LP and hearing movement is unbelieveable. This book brought back so many memories of the 1960s it is like going into a time warp: from the popular music, to the figures of speech used, to the thoughts of the men as they count down their time before they can go back to The World. Unlike many other Nam novels this actually goes into the experiences of a couple of the men when they return to the States only to discover that no one acts like there is even a war on, treating them like outcasts. The incredible camaraderie of men in fighting holes protecting each other in battle as well as the racial tensions of the time in the rear areas comes through loud and clear. I have read all of Webb's novels and this one is his best. Two Nam books come to mind that are close to, but not quite as good as this one: Body Count and Close Quarters.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful.
Fiction but Real
By Donna J. Runnels
I have read a number of books about Viet Nam and seen most of the movies. My husband served in the Marine Corps in Viet Nam 1966-67. His platoon has yearly reunions so I know many of the Marines he served with. Most Viet Nam movies are garbage with the biggest exception I've seen being "We Were Soldier Once and Young". Most of the books are much better, and I would include this as a very good book about the Nam. Even though it's fiction, it is very much based on real people and real events. I think it really captured the reality the way it has been described to me. I will be passing this on to one of my husband's friends at the next reunion.

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An Accidental Goddess, by Linnea Sinclair

Raheiran Special Forces captain Gillaine Davré has just woken up in some unknown space way station, wondering where the last three hundred years have gone. The last thing she remembers is her ship being attacked. Now it seems that while she was time-traveling, she was ordained a goddess…. Gillaine’s only hope of survival rests with dangerously seductive Admiral Mack Makarian, who suspects her of being a smuggler—or worse. But he can’t begin to imagine the full extent of it. For Gillaine is now Lady Kiasidira, holy icon to countless believers, including Mack—a man who inspires feelings in her that are far from saintly…feelings she knows are mutual. But when their flirtation is interrupted by a treacherous enemy from the past, Gillaine’s secret—and secret desires—could destroy them both….

  • Sales Rank: #1311356 in Books
  • Brand: Sinclair, Linnea
  • Published on: 2005-12-27
  • Released on: 2005-12-27
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 6.88" h x .96" w x 4.19" l, .46 pounds
  • Binding: Mass Market Paperback
  • 464 pages

Review
"This is exquisite storytelling that combines delicious romance, a spellbinding plot, and vivid characters into a powerful drama that transcends genres." ---RT Book Reviews

From the Publisher
A fantastic Science Fiction/Fantasy Romance that's sure to please lovers of both hard core Sci Fi, Fantasy, and romantics! This far-future sequel to the award-winning WINTERTIDE is superb!

About the Author
Winner of the prestigious national book award, the RITA, science fiction romance author Linnea Sinclair has become a name synonymous for high-action, emotionally intense, character-driven novels. Reviewers note that Sinclair’s novels “have the wow-factor in spades,” earning her accolades from both the science fiction and romance communities. A former news reporter and retired private detective, Sinclair resides in Naples, Florida with her husband, Robert Bernadino, and their two thoroughly spoiled cats.

Most helpful customer reviews

32 of 33 people found the following review helpful.
A hybrid Romance that works both ways.
By Mfitz...
It's about time they got someone writing this sort of hybrid story who understands both parent genera. Most of the books out there sold as futuristic, or SF, romances are so bad that I'm embarrassed for the authors. They are lame romances, horrid SF, and something of an insult to the readers they are marketed toward.

Ms. Sinclair's work does not fall into that category. This book works as a Romance and a Space Opera, although the SF setting does not work quite as well as the settings in Finder's Keepers or Gabriel's Ghost. Sure this is brain candy, but it's really good brain candy, a fun read and a wonderful escape from the stress of the real world.

I've put Sinclair on my A list of writers. I'm looking forward to reading her future works.

29 of 30 people found the following review helpful.
Wonderful Sci Fi Romance!
By Silmarwen
Captain Gillaine Davre of the Raheiran Special Forces, the Kiasidira, had just barely escaped the Fav'lhir attack by traveling through the Rift. The Fav'lhir followed her and were destroyed, decimating the Fav'lhir's mageline or line of sorcerers. So when she woke up in a sick bay, she wasn't too surprised. After all, she did get a pretty nasty bump on her head. However, Gillie quickly discovers that she is 342 years in the future. Somehow the conflict between her ship and the Fav'lhir projected her into the future. And, even worse, the Khalarans, the people she was protecting, have made her a goddess! Gillie knows that she needs to keep her head down, repair her ship and beat it out of there before anyone discovers who she is, but Admiral Rynan Makarian already seems a little too interested...

Admiral Rynan "Make It Right" Makarian, Mack to his friends, is the youngest and newest Admiral in the Khalaran Fleet. His reputation for perfection and excellent track record land him on Cirrus One, the preliminary project for the Rim Gate Project, or a gate that will link the remote corner of the galaxy with the rest of the Khalaran Confederation. Everything that could go wrong seems to, from the civilians refusing to cooperate with the Fleet personnel, the magefather having delusions of grandeur - and the dratted parrots that no one can seem to get rid of! The last thing he needs is the beautiful Gillie, whom he mistakenly assumes is a smuggler, distracting him from his duties.

Mack first hangs around Gillie because he is suspicious of her, but quickly falls in love with her. When Mack proposes to Gillie after she has been on Cirrus One for a week, Gillie is shocked - but very, very tempted. For the first time in her life, Gillie starts to imagine what it would be like to be just plain old Gillie - not the Kiasidira, not a Raheiran sorceress, but just a woman who loves a man. For a short time, it seems that Gillie's dream will come true, but then Gillie discovers that the magefather is Melandan, the ancient enemy of the Khalarans. When Carrick Blass, a mageline sorcerer of the Melandan people arrives on board Cirrus One, Gillie knows she has to make a choice - protect the Khalarans, as she swore an oath to do and risk losing Mack's love or to let the Khalarans be destroyed, which is no choice at all...

An Accidental Goddess is the far future sequel to Wintertide, Baker's excellent fantasy novel and is just as entertaining. Gillie was a great character and I could totally empathize with her tough decisions. If she revealed who she truly was, the Kiasidira, she would disrupt centuries of religious worship in the Khalaran culture and knew that the people would never look at her the same. Mack was a great hero, very intelligent and able to figure out a lot of Gillie's history on his own, but not really wanting to believe what he found out. Mack's crew were also wonderful characters, as was Simon, Gillie's sentient computer/ship who was one of my favorite characters - I would love to see him in a story of his own! Anyway, the characters were fabulous and well developed, even the wretched villains, and the setting was great. I felt that the story had a good sense of history (because I read Wintertide first, I understood a lot of the religious connotations better, but it is not necessary to read Wintertide first) and a very developed world with all aspects of life covered - food, healing, religion, military, politics, etc. The cost is a bit steep for Megan Baker's books, but I can assure you that they are well worth the cost! (If you want a cheaper copy, look to buy them in ebook format.)

2 of 2 people found the following review helpful.
A Romance, Time-Travel Action Adventure novel
By K. Maxwell
Captain Gillaine Davré of the Raheiran special forces and military advisor to the Khalaran people is both an unwilling time traveller and much to her surprise, also a goddess. After an epic military battle where she 'sacrificed' her life and became the symbol of all that is good to the Khalari she was accidentally thrust through a time warp 342 years into the future and into the life of Admiral Rynan "make-it-right" Makarian on the run down space station of Cirrus One.
This is a romance novel, not usually the sort of thing I read, but the Sci-Fi aspects of the story drew me to it. It turned out to be a well written story that didn't let the romance elements overwhelm the action and the world building of the story. Gillie and Mac are both strong and well written characters that you easily and quickly like.
AN ACCIDENTAL GODDESS successfully mixes a number of different genres and is both an enjoyable and worthwhile read and romance that is not too soppy or too reliant of bedroom scenes to tell its story.

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