Charles Block has escaped his holding cell, and no one seems able or willing to find him…
The pattern of Block’s previous criminal activities revealed a clear progression. He started with smaller, albeit complex, financial crimes, gradually escalating to more ambitious heists that required intricate planning and the manipulation of multiple systems. The move towards physical logistics, as evidenced by his presumed involvement with the Crimson Syndicate, was a logical, albeit terrifying, evolution. It was the ultimate expression of his ability to control and manipulate the flow of resources, to operate with impunity in the arteries of global commerce. Corbin felt a chill crawl up his spine. Block wasn’t just a thief; he was a logistical architect of illicit trade, a man who could render entire borders invisible.
A look at the town of Glennville. Bobby, Moon and Lois are the central points of this book, but they will also introduce you to their parents, the Sheriff Kyle Stevens and some of the other town locals that make Glennville, Glennville. They are trying to spend the summer enjoying the beauty of the upstate New York town, camping, adventures, all the things three eleven year old kids could do for a summer in 1969. However, Glennville is no ordinary town and there is always something else going on… #Summer #Glennville #Adventure #1969 #DellSweet #Readers #KU
Glennville A look at the town of Glennville. Bobby, Moon and Lois are the central points of this book, but they will also introduce you to their parents, the Sheriff Kyle Stevens and some of the other town locals that make Glennville, Glennville. They are trying to spend the summer enjoying the beauty of the upstate New York town, camping, adventures, all the things three eleven year old kids could do for a summer in 1969. However, Glennville is no ordinary town and there is always something else going on… #Summer #Glennville #Adventure #1969 #DellSweet #Readers #KU https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FM8VC719
The email arrived on a Tuesday, nestled amongst press releases about a new city ordinance and a celebrity chef opening a pop-up restaurant. Its subject line, “Assignment: Blackwood Creek Disappearances,” was bland enough to be ignorable, but Clara’s editor, a man who subsisted on a diet of caffeine and sensationalism, had flagged it with a rare “URGENT” and a single, emphatic exclamation mark. Just another ghost story peddled by a town desperate for attention, or perhaps a clever cover for something far more mundane, yet equally grim, like serial killings or human trafficking… #Horror #Readers #KU #DellSweet #Thriller #Mystery #Kindle
The air hung thick and heavy, a miasma of stale cigarette smoke, cheap weed, and something else… something indefinably rotten. It clung to the peeling wallpaper, to the stained mattress shoved against the wall, to the very fabric of the room itself. This wasn’t just a dilapidated apartment in Harlem; it was a tomb, a suffocating cage built from neglect and despair. Rose-Lee, her eyes sharp and assessing, took it all in, the grime, the shadows, the sense of impending doom that settled like a shroud. Across the room, Alice huddled beneath a threadbare blanket, her eyes wide and fearful, a stark contrast to Rose-Lee’s steely gaze… #Crime #Thriller #Psychological #Readers #Urban
Easy Crime 04 Kindle Edition Book 4 of 4: Easy Crime Jenna clutched the strap of her worn messenger bag, her knuckles white. Her gaze was fixed on the two figures illuminated by the erratic neon. One was a burly man, his face obscured by the deep shadow cast by a baseball cap pulled low, his frame hunched as if carrying the weight of the world, or perhaps just the heavy duffel bag clutched between his hands. #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible #series
Jenna clutched the strap of her worn messenger bag, her knuckles white. Her gaze was fixed on the two figures illuminated by the erratic neon. One was a burly man, his face obscured by the deep shadow cast by a baseball cap pulled low, his frame hunched as if carrying the weight of the world, or perhaps just the heavy duffel bag clutched between his hands. #Crime #Fiction #KU #Readers #Thriller #Kindle #Audible #Series
The engine coughed, sputtered, and then died with a pathetic wheeze, leaving them stranded in an oppressive silence that felt heavier than the humid night air. The last vestiges of their carefree laughter evaporated, replaced by a chilling stillness that pressed in on them from the suffocating darkness of the surrounding woods. Their joyride, a reckless escape from the mundane anxieties of teenage life, had abruptly ended at Witches’ Bend – a name whispered in hushed tones by the locals, a name that now held a terrifying weight.
Liam, the driver, slammed the steering wheel in frustration, his youthful bravado dissolving into a palpable fear. “Great,” he muttered, his voice tight with anxiety, “Just great. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but creepy trees and even creepier legends.”
Sarah, ever the pragmatist, reached for her phone. No signal. A wave of icy dread washed over her; the comforting hum of technology, their lifeline to the outside world, had been severed. They were truly isolated, utterly alone in the heart of this forsaken place.
The others – Maya, the quiet observer; Jake, the perpetually sarcastic jokester; Chloe, the fiercely independent one; Ben, the nervous wreck; and Emily, the ever-optimistic – shared the same sense of growing unease. The air crackled with an unseen energy, a palpable sense of dread that seeped into their bones, clinging to them like the clinging mist that hung heavy in the air. Witches’ Bend wasn’t just a location; it felt like an entity, a malevolent presence that had chosen them as its prey.
Seven friends break down on Witches Bend. An area spoke of in whispers because of the horrors that are believed to be there. But horror cannot touch you if you don’t believe in it… True? Maybe not in this horror thriller that celebrates all of the horror genre. The car is dead. As of now, they are not. But the coming hours may change that completely. It may, in fact change that forever…
Her mother… Jaquan couldn’t find her mother. The frantic searching only intensified the growing terror. The air filled with the stench of blood and the chilling metallic tang of death. The Cro-Magnons, with their superior weaponry and seemingly ruthless efficiency, moved like a tide of destruction, their spears flashing in the darkness. They were taller, leaner, and faster. Their weapons were more advanced; longer spears, sharper flint blades – weapons that seemed designed for efficient killing. The Neanderthals, while possessing immense strength, struggled against the Cro-Magnons’ relentless assault and superior strategy. Their close-quarters fighting style, which had served them so well for generations, was overwhelmed by the range and precision of the Cro-Magnon spears.
The sounds of the attack were horrifying – the sickening thud of bodies hitting the cave floor, the sharp crack of bone, the choked gasps for air, the desperate cries for help. Jaquan pressed herself against the cold cave wall, her small body trembling violently. She watched, helpless and terrified, as her world crumbled around her.
The fight was short, brutal, and utterly one-sided. Within minutes, the struggle ceased. The cave, moments ago alive with the sounds of fighting and fear, fell silent, an unnatural stillness settling over the scene. Only the crackling of the dying fire and Jaquan’s ragged breathing disturbed the heavy silence. The smell of blood hung thick in the air, a suffocating blanket that clung to her nostrils and choked her lungs…
A young Neanderthal girl is orphaned in a brutal attack and left to survive on her own. This is her story of how she survived, set on the European continent 45,000 years ago…
The Brass Hand Frank Morgan is headed to a small New York town to find out what has happened to a reporter friend of his. A small thing, in the scheme of things. He is not even sure there is a real need to be concerned… At first anyway… But it seems like there may be much more to his friend’s disappearance that it seemed at first. Murder greets him and the mystery deepens from there. #Mystery #Crime #KU #Readers #DellSweet #Amazon #Thriller
A look at the town of Glennville. Bobby, Moon and Lois are the central points of this book, but they will also introduce you to their parents, the Sherif Kyle Stevens and some of the other town locals that make Glennville, Glennville. They are trying to spend the summer enjoying the beauty of the upstate New York town, camping, adventures, all the things three eleven year old kids could do for a summer in 1969. But Glennville is no ordinary town and there is always something else going on…
The Black River was more than just a geographical feature; it was a whispered legend in the hushed corners of Glennville, a dark, sinuous promise on the edge of their ordinary lives. For Lois, Bobby, and Moon, it represented the untamed, the exhilarating unknown that lay just beyond the familiar streets and the oppressive normalcy of their days. Summer had settled over Glennville like a thick, humid blanket, but beneath the languid heat, a different kind of energy was building – a shared hunger for adventure, a yearning to push the boundaries of their small-town existence. The river, with its murky depths and shadowed banks, beckoned with an irresistible allure.
It was a place where the predictable rhythm of Glennville seemed to break, where the rules that governed their lives felt distant and irrelevant. The hushed reverence with which the older kids spoke of its hidden coves and treacherous currents only fueled the younger ones’ fascination. They’d seen glimpses of it from the dusty backroads, a dark ribbon weaving through overgrown trees, hinting at secrets the town couldn’t contain. Lois, ever the observer, had always felt its pull. She’d imagine the smooth, cool water against her skin, the quiet murmur of its flow as a counterpoint to the constant hum of her mother’s worries or the distant roar of the mill. It was a space that felt entirely their own, a canvas for the adventures their limited world couldn’t otherwise provide.
Bobby, with his boundless optimism, was the first to voice the nascent plan. He’d arrived at Lois’s doorstep one sweltering afternoon, his face flushed with excitement, a hastily drawn map clutched in his hand. The map, sketched on the back of a discarded flyer for a long-forgotten town picnic, depicted a rough, ambitious route to the furthest reaches of the Black River accessible by foot. “Lois,” he’d panted, barely containing his enthusiasm, “We have to go. To the end of it. The real end.”
