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Overview
The extraordinary prequel to the Rosie Ewing Spy Thrillers and their final instalment.
Late autumn, 1942. A group codenamed Countryman are briefed by London to get a certain German out of Vichy’s hands. What they don’t know is that they are being sold out to the Gestapo.
Of course they are constantly aware of betrayal as a looming danger. All too many SOE networks had been ‘blown’, with agents disappearing into the Gestapo cellars and extermination camps: the dread every agent lives with every minute of every day.
In amongst them is Rosie Ewing, about to start a series of extraordinary life-or-death adventures.
The final Rosie Ewing Spy Thriller takes us back to the beginning; to how Rosie became an SOE agent at the very forefront of the War.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781788630399 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Canelo |
| Publication date: | 11/04/2022 |
| Series: | Rosie Ewing Spy Thrillers , #5 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 327 |
| Sales rank: | 468,039 |
| File size: | 646 KB |
About the Author
Alexander Fullerton was a bestselling author of British naval fiction, whose writing career spanned over fifty years. He served with distinction as gunnery and torpedo officer of HM Submarine Seadog during World War Two. He was a fluent Russian speaker, and after the war served in Germany as the Royal Navy liaison with the Red Army.
His first novel, Surface!, was written on the backs of old cargo manifests. It sold over 500,000 copies and needed five reprints in six weeks. Fullerton is perhaps best known though for his nine-volume Nicholas Everard series, which was translated into many languages, winning him fans all round the world. His fiftieth novel, Submariner, was published in 2008, the year of his death.
Read an Excerpt
Luna
By Julie Anne Peters
Little, Brown Childrens
Copyright © 2004 Julie Anne PetersAll right reserved.
ISBN: 0-316-73369-5
Chapter One
It was the feel of her presence in my room that woke me - again. I rolled over in bed and squinted at the clock on my nightstand. "What time is it?" My voice slurred. The blurry numbers came into focus. Two thirty-three. "Two thirty-three? Don't you ever sleep?"She didn't respond.
I scooted my pillow against the headboard to sit up, see what she was doing. "What is that?" I asked.
"Like it?" She shimmied in front of the mirror. The layered fringe on the dress she was wearing swayed in waves. "It's an old flapper dress I found at Goodwill," she said. In her stockinged feet, she performed a little Charleston for me. "It's vintage. Totally retro. Don't you think? I'm wearing this baby to prom."
I snorted. Her eyes met mine in the mirror and sobered me fast. She couldn't be serious.
Examining the length of herself, she hooked her long hair over her ears and wiggled her hips again. She'd chosen the blonde wig tonight. It wasn't her favorite, since she thought it made her look cheap. Like a slut. It did go well with the red dress, though. She caught me looking at her and smiled. "I'm going to run for prom queen, too."
I burst into laughter, then clapped a hand over my mouth to smother the sound. Wouldn't want to wake the parental units upstairs.
She wasn'tlaughing.
She was joking. Wasn't she? "Lia -"
"Luna," she said. "I've taken the name Luna." Her eyes fixed on mine. To gauge my reaction, I guess. Or seek my approval. What did it matter what I thought?
"Why change?" I yawned. "You've always been -"
"Lia's too close. Lia Marie. It's just too close." She crossed my bedroom, blazing a trail through the layer of clothes and other crap on my floor. As she passed under the window, she stopped and pivoted. The moon cast an eerie glow through my basement window. A spotlight. A spray of luminescent beams.
"Luna," she repeated softly, more to herself than me. "Appropriate, wouldn't you say? A girl who can only be seen by moonlight?"
Exhaustion overwhelmed me suddenly. Or my weariness of it all. "Go to bed, Luna." I snuggled down into my comforter and punched my pillow, willing myself back to sleep. It'd take me hours to drift off again, especially if she stayed to do her makeup. And she would.
I studied her through a slit eye. Something was different. A change had come over her. Nothing physical. More a shift in her cosmos - or maybe a crack.
"I can see your bra straps," I told her. "You need to buy a strapless."
"Really?" She twisted her head to peer over her shoulder. "Do you have one?"
"Get real. Even if I did, you're not wearing my underwear."
"It wouldn't fit anyway. I'm at least a C cup."
I blew out a puff of air. "You wish." Rolling over, I muttered, "You're such a freakshow."
Her hair splayed across my pillow, tickling my face. "I know," she murmured in my ear. "But you love me, don't you?" Her lips grazed my cheek.
I swatted her away.
As I heard her slog across the floor toward my desk - where she'd unveiled her makeup caddy in all its glory - a sigh of resignation escaped my lips. Yeah, I loved her. I couldn't help it. She was my brother.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Luna by Julie Anne Peters Copyright © 2004 by Julie Anne Peters. Excerpted by permission.
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