MIRA Travel French Press lets you enjoy a cup of coffee while on the go. Easy to make the coffee and keep it warm. You will be able to enjoy café-quality coffee and tea every day, without paying café prices, and become your own barista with this French Press Travel Mug.
Sip café-quality coffee and tea on the go with the French Press Travel Mug from MIRA Brands. Skip the expensive coffee shop without giving up your favorite caffeinated treats with the French Press Travel Mug from MIRA Brands. Brew fresh tea or French press coffee on the go with this high-quality, insulated mug.
Mug keeps up to 12oz of liquid hot or cold for hours. Constructed of premium grade 18/8 stainless steel, this double walled mug will keep hot liquids steaming or cold drinks frigid for hours, while the outside remains cool and dry to the touch. A built-in plunger allows users to brew on the go and start drinking immediately, without having to remove spent coffee grounds or tea leaves.
Made of premium 18/8 stainless steel with vacuum insulated double walled chamber for superior temperature retention. With a capacity of 12oz and an easy to use flip-up lid, this mug is perfect for sipping in the office or while sitting in traffic. The spill resistant, airtight lid protects against splashes during a bumpy commute, while a slip and skid resistant silicone bottom ensures that this mug won't skitter off of a desk when jostled.
Contains a built-in, easy to use steeping plunger. All components come apart easily and are dishwasher safe for quick and easy clean up.
My Review
I received a free MIRA French Press Travel Mug byMIRA Brands for review, so I made a cup this morning. I used a small scoop of ground coffee with boiling water (do not microwave this mug) when I got up. It is now over an hour and a half later and the coffee is HOT! I am impressed, I have had a few different mugs (not a French Press mug) and they rarely stay hot for any length of time. This one definitely stays hot! Back to the coffee itself, after you put the coffee and water in the mug, the cover screws on and you keep the little plunger up, let your coffee steep for a few minutes. Push the plunger down and there you go, a perfect cup of cafe quality coffee without the cost. Yes it is convenient to get your favorite coffee at a popular coffee shop, but using this mug is so much cheaper and when you make it yourself you know what goes into your mug. You can make the coffee using this mug when you first get up and it will still be hot when you are ready to go. Plus, and this is important, you do not get any coffee grounds floating around in your mug. This mug is dishwasher safe and again, no microwaving. It has a non skid bottom and leakproof lid too. I would definitely recommend this mug if you are looking a quality product that will last a long time do not look any further.
You can get the MIRA French Press Travel Mug at Amazon.
Per FCC regulations, I received the MIRA French Press Travel Mug for review at no cost to me for my honest review.
Publication Date: September 2014
Mystic Harbor Press Formats: Ebook, Paperback Genre: YA/New Adult/Adventure/Suspense/Historical Age: Young Adult, New Adult
In 1845 200 gold coins were minted to commemorate Texas? entry into the United States. Slated to be given to all major players that helped Texas into the Union, the coins were loaded onto a wagon on a rainy night, near Dallas, Texas and never seen again. Over a century later, traces of the coins resurface, after a couple of kids stumble upon what appeared to be one, in a Southeast Texas creek. News of the find reach Parks Leslie and Stan Atcher, treasure hunters and historians, always looking for their next big find, and long-time seekers of these coins. Parks and Stan's interest proves to be an unexpected journey, tangled with blood history ties, new friendships and near-death experiences, calling for sacrifices no one could have predicted.
Jason Bradshaw has had a passion for adventure, history and writing for most of his life; culminating in the writing of his first novel, Beneath Creek Waters. Besides writing numerous articles for various newsletters and publications, Bradshaw is currently completing his second installment to his novel series, titled Beneath Gulf Waters, after which he will begin work for a new series, The Hobbyist, to be completed in 2015. Bradshaw has also co-written two screenplays in conjunction with Todd Rodgers, titled Red Eye and Shadow Ops.
Bradshaw is an avid diver, enjoys flying, hiking, surfing and has a general love for the outdoors. He currently resides in Texas with his wife and two young sons.
For more information please visit Jason L. Bradshaw's website. You can also find him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads. Sign up for Jason's Newsletter.
Parks dialed the number given him by Professor Duncan. The
phone rang many times and just as he was going to hang up, someone answered.
“Hello, Mrs. Johnson?”
“Yes, I’m Mrs. Johnson,” the woman on the other end
answered.
“Mrs. Johnson, I’m Parks Leslie with AVHR Inc., Artifacts
Valuables Historical Recovery, and I understand that your son has come across a
coin or something similar in one of your local creeks?”
“Yes, sir, he sure did, about a week or so ago.”
“Does he have it in his possession by chance?” Parks knew it couldn’t be that easy, but he
had to ask. “Well, that’s the issue, Mr. Leslie. The boys were removed from the
area against their will by a couple of locals. I would have filed a police
report, but Cameron and his friend were actually near their property and I
wasn’t sure who was in the wrong or if they were trespassing, so I just left it
alone. Cameron’s friend was only slightly injured, but they were just really
shook up about it.”
“Would your son happen to be there?” Parks asked. “He’s at
work right now, but I will have him call you when he gets back in.” “Okay,
sounds great, Mrs. Johnson. I’ll be looking forward to his call.”
“Parks, was it?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is.”
“Mr. Leslie, Cameron did sketch a picture of what he found
if you would be interested in seeing it. I could fax or email it.”
“If it’s not a problem, faxing it would be the best way for
me to get it.”
“No problem at all. Just let me have your fax number and as
soon as Cameron gets home from work, I’ll send it over.”
“I look forward to seeing it and thanks again, Mrs. Johnson.
We’ll be down there in a couple of days.” Parks turned to Stan, “Maybe by the
time we get back to the warehouse, she’ll have sent it.”
A few of hours later, Parks and Stan rolled into the
warehouse driveway.
“Damn. The older I get the tighter and tighter my legs get
on these long trips”, Parks said, as he stumbled out of the Land Rover,
stretching to loosen fatigued muscles.
“What the hell would you know; you slept the whole way
back?” Stan responded.
“Let’s go see if anyone has stolen anything while we’ve been
gone. Not that there is anything in there worth stealing - anything worth a
damn is packed in this rolling heap.” Just as the two were opening one of the
bay doors, Parks’ phone started ringing.
“Parks Leslie?” The voice said over the phone. “Mr. Leslie,
this is Cameron Johnson, the guy who found the coin. My mom told me that I should call you,”
Cameron sounded uncertain.
“Yes, Cameron thanks for calling back. Is there any way you
can meet us near the site sometime within the next few days? I’d like to talk
to you personally.”
“I really don’t want to go back to the site if that’s cool
with you. But I will take you back to the old bridge, that’s pretty close to
where we were.”
Considering the beating that Cameron had taken earlier,
Parks wasn’t surprised that he did not want to meet at the location. “That’s no
problem at all. I just want to chat a bit and have you guide my partner and me
in the right direction,” Parks replied.
“Okay Mr. Leslie, just call me when you’re ready to meet up
and I’ll be there.”
“I’ll call you before we get there, Cameron. I look forward
to meeting you and thanks again for the help. Your mom told me that she would
fax me over your drawing so I will be waiting to check it out.”
“No problem, Mr. Leslie. I’ll see you then.” Cameron hung up
the phone remembering the coin he had held in his hand for a brief second. It must really be something to have someone
like Mr. Leslie interested in it.
The warehouse was one hundred feet width by fifty feet deep.
Inside, there was a small office where Parks and Stan stored all their
paperwork, computer gear and extra supplies. They had built a cleaning room
where all the treasures they recovered received the proper care.
Although Parks and Stan didn’t stay in the warehouse often,
there was a small room located in the back that held bunk beds and a tiny
bathroom. They used it to grab a few hours of sleep, while they worked on
cataloging, and in some cases, restoring artifacts in between locations. Each
time they returned, they both were surprised at how much the old place felt
like home—but it was far from that.
Parks was eager to check the fax machine hoping Mrs. Johnson
had sent the sketch that Cameron had made of the coin. Parks made his way to
the portion of the warehouse that contained the office equipment; flipping on
all the lights as he entered the area.
To his disappointment, there was nothing
from Mrs. Johnson on the fax machine. “Well, Stan, it looks like everything is
still here.”
Stan was tired and ready to relax. “Yep, it seems that way.
I’m going to go grab a shower in the RV and then get to work for a bit.”
Parks started digging through an old file cabinet that was
stuffed into the corner of the room. His office area looked as if someone had
ransacked the place, but that was of his own making. He knew where everything
was. Stan had cleaned it once, but it had annoyed Parks so much he vowed never
to try that again, recognizing a lost battle when he saw one.
Parks, not realizing he was talking to himself, voiced, “Where ya at in here, folder? I know you’re
in here somewhere, and I remember making it a point to stuff you way back here.
There ya are!” He pulled out a folder labeled “S Coin” and started flipping
through the old notes.
Parks quickly found what he was looking for; a drawing with
some writing on it that had been sketched in the late 1800s hundreds making the
claim that there were a couple hundred of these coins stolen immediately after
they were minted. The paper alleged that production was stopped because the
expense of making such a valuable coin was too high. The coin measured two
inches in diameter with a star in the middle and was said to be made of solid
gold with a small jewel in the center that appeared to be a diamond. The sketch
made it hard to tell.
The lettering across the bottom read Union Strong – 1845 and along the top in bold letters was the word TEXAS.
Parks had wasted eight years of research concerning these coins and
never came up with anything concrete. Legend told that in 1845 when Texas
became part of the United States, two hundred coins were made. The coins were
to be distributed to the major players who were instrumental with the birthing
of Texas and its joining into the union. Parks had also heard rumors that
immediately after these coins were finished; they were loaded into a wagon to
never be seen again. After production, the mint supposedly destroyed all of the
molds, and it seemed that once the coins left the Dallas area, they had just
completely vanished.
Stan showered, finished a report to the investors and
returned to the warehouse office. He was refreshed, but ready to take a much
needed break.
“Hey Parks, I am getting
some paperwork ready to send out to our investors showing them that
we’re not just out playing games with their money. I finally had a few minutes
to get some stuff done for them. I’ll finish the rest of it later and then
shoot it over.”
“Wow, you’re handier than a pocket on a shirt, Stan. I’m
glad you’re so good at it; hopefully it is all positive stuff, right?” Parks
answered, thankful that Stan was gathering all the information for the investor
reports. When Stan noticed that Parks had the folder containing the “S” coin
information in his hand, he just smiled and shook his head, without saying a
word.
Parks was again reviewing the papers when he said to Stan,
“I’ve tried putting this to rest so many times, but it just seems to keep
popping back up. I’ve run into scores of dead end stories and scouted out way
too many locations. It just makes me weary to think about wasting our time and
money.”
Not hearing all that Parks just said, Stan replied, “Parks,
what are you ranting about in there?”
“Nothing… nothing at all. I just want to start being sure
about what we take on in the future. I’m tired of chasing these bogus claims
and sketches and maps and family and friends and…” suddenly becoming aware that
he was tired, dropped the subject and said, “You know what? Let’s pour a drink,
Stan.”
Stan swirled the clear amber liquid in his glass, the ice
making a tinkling sound against the side. “You’re too late, Parks. I mixed me
up a whisky and water after my shower.” He sipped the rather strong drink. Stan
knew he would get the sleep he needed this night. Because of the busy schedule
over the past few weeks, he and Parks hadn’t rested much and they both now,
desperately needed it.
Parks tossed the folder onto his desk and went to the RV to
mix himself a cocktail. The notes could wait until morning. “Alright Stan, this
one is for Houston,” Parks sounded in a loud voice.
Stan raised his empty glass. “I could care less about going
to Houston but here’s to finding those gold coins that have never existed!”
“You nailed it, Amigo. Now let’s get ready and head out
first thing tomorrow morning.” Stan
looked perplexed, “Seriously? I thought we were going to give it a couple of
days, Parks.”
“Professor Duncan hasn’t called me in a very long time,
Stan, and he just called out of the blue to give me some info on that coin. The
professor doesn’t usually give out that kind of information, so that’s enough
to for me to get my ass down there to check it out.”
“Okay, Parks,” Stan said, raising his glass. “Here’s to
finding something that might still exist.”
Parks and Stan continued to pour whiskey with the paperwork
that Stan had intended to finish tossed aside. It was late into the night when
Stan leaned over to pour his last shot for the evening. He tipped over the
bottle of Jim Beam, spilling what little was left all over an investors update
sheets. Aware that he probably had a few too many, Stan said, “Well Parks, if we’re
gettin’ up early, I’m gonna retire and sleep this off.”
“Yep, to brothers,” Parks slurred a bit grabbing the folder
off of the desk. He flipped through the folder, going over every page in his
head. “I’m going to bury this damned folder once and for all.”
Stan was already snoring by the time Parks made his way to
the other small bed. They were both sound asleep when the fax machine came to
life, the paper printed and then slowly fell off the tray; silently drifting
underneath the adjacent file cabinet. The fax was the sketch that Cameron
Johnson had made of the coin he found. It was close, if not a perfect match, of
the Texas “S” coin.
It is my pleasure to feature on Celticlady's Reviews the new release Healed by Love, by author Melissa Foster!!!! Plus Five lucky winners will each receive the Taken by Love ebook, see below for entry form!
NEW BOOK RELEASE........ Book #1 The Bradens of Peaceful Harbor, Book #13 The Bradens series, Love in Bloom #25 Meet the Bradens of Peaceful Harbor and fall in love with Nate Braden & Jewel Fisher in Healed by Love. Nate Braden has loved his best friend’s younger sister Jewel for as long as he can remember, but between their age difference and his respect for Rick, he’s always kept his feelings at bay. Now he’s back in Peaceful Harbor, and Jewel is no longer sixteen years old—but there’s an even bigger obstacle standing in his way. Nate and Rick joined the military together eight years earlier. Nate came home a hero, but Rick didn’t make it out alive. THE BRADENS AT PEACEFUL HARBOR are one of the newest additions to the Braden series and the LOVE IN BLOOM family. **CONTENT WARNING: Due to mature content, recommended for readers aged 18+**
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes contemporary romance, new adult, contemporary women’s fiction, suspense, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Her books have been recommended by USA Today’s book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café and Fostering Success. When she’s not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success. Melissa has been published in Calgary’s Child Magazine, the Huffington Post, and Women Business Owners magazine.
Melissa hosts an Aspiring Authors contest for children and has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Melissa lives in Maryland with her family.
Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa at The World Literary Cafe
or her personal website.Never miss a brand new release, special promotions or inside gossip again by simply signing up to receive your newsletter from Melissa.
Publication Date: July 14, 2015 Publisher: St. Martin's Press Formats: Ebook, Paperback Pages: 320 Genre: Historical Fiction We know her name. We know of her naked ride. We don't know her true story.
We all know the legend of Lady Godiva, who famously rode naked through the streets of Coventry, covered only by her long, flowing hair. So the story goes, she begged her husband Lord Leofric of Mercia to lift a high tax on her people, who would starve if forced to pay. Lord Leofric demanded a forfeit: that Godiva ride naked on horseback through the town. There are various endings to Godiva's ride, that all the people of Coventry closed their doors and refused to look upon their liege lady (except for 'peeping Tom') and that her husband, in remorse, lifted the tax.
Naked is an original version of Godiva's tale with a twist that may be closer to the truth: by the end of his life Leofric had fallen deeply in love with Lady Godiva. A tale of legendary courage and extraordinary passion, Naked brings an epic story new voice.
"Redgold's variation on this enticing legend is often lyrical and offers a satisfying blend of history, lore, and romance." (Booklist)
"Breathes new life into the story of the woman who would stop at nothing to protect her land and people." (Romantic Times)
"NAKED delivers far more than the famous ride of Lady Godiva. It's a beautifully woven story of love, loyalty, and the determination of a young woman trying to protect her people and their way of life, no matter the price. Godiva is a wonderfully strong woman in an age of dangerous men, and in NAKED, she certainly meets her match!" (Amalia Carosella, author of HELEN OF SPARTA)
"A wonderful, romantic retelling of the Lady Godiva legend. There is the colorful Anglo-Saxon backdrop, warriors, battles, peacemaking, desire, revenge and love - everything a fan of medieval romance could desire - plus a strong-willed heroin. Written with a lyrical lilt to her prose, Redgold adds realism to the myth and love to the lusty tale, allowing readers a glimpse into what might have been." (RT Book Reviews)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ELIZA REDGOLD is based upon the old, Gaelic meaning of her name, Dr Elizabeth Reid Boyd. English folklore has it that if you help a fairy, you will be rewarded with red gold. She has presented academic papers on women and romance and is a contributor to the forthcoming Encyclopedia of Romance Fiction. As a non-fiction author she is co-author of Body Talk: a Power Guide for Girls and Stay-at-Home Mothers: Dialogues and Debates. She was born in Irvine, Scotland on Marymass Day and currently lives in Australia. For more information visit Eliza Redgold's website. You can also find her on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, Pinterest, and Google+.
To enter to win a copy of Naked: A Novel of Lady Godiva & a $50 Amazon Gift Card, please enter via the GLEAM form below.
Rules
? Giveaway ends at 11:59pm EST on July 28th. You must be 18 or older to enter.
? Giveaway is open internationally.
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? Winner has 48 hours to claim prize or new winner is chosen.
Naked: A Novel of Lady Godiva Book Blast
The Book A woman and her young son flee to a convent on a remote island off the Breton coast of France. Generations of seafarers have named the place Ile de la Brume, or Fog Island. In a chapel high on a cliff, a tragic death occurs and a terrified child vanishes into the mist.
The child’s godmother, Maggie O’Shea, haunted by the violent deaths of her husband and best friend, has withdrawn from her life as a classical pianist. But then a recording of unforgettable music and a grainy photograph surface, connecting her missing godson to a long-lost first love.
The photograph will draw Maggie inexorably into a collision course with criminal forces, decades-long secrets, stolen art and musical artifacts, and deadly terrorists. Her search will take her to the Festival de Musique, Aix-en-Provence, France, where she discovers answers to the mystery surrounding her husband’s death, an unexpected love—and a musical masterpiece lost for centuries.
A compelling blend of suspense, mystery, political intrigue, and romance, The Lost Concerto explores universal themes of loss, vengeance, courage, and love. The Author Helaine Mario is the author of two novels of suspense, Firebird (Amazon 2012) and The Lost Concerto (Oceanview Publishing, July 2015).
New York City born and raised, Helaine is a Boston University graduate. She married in 1969 and moved to CT to raise her two children, volunteer at Save the Children, and write for the local newspaper.
In 1985, Helaine’s life took an unpredictable turn when her husband’s career brought her family to Potomac, MD. For all eight years of the Clinton Presidency, she was a White House volunteer for Tipper and Al Gore, and continues to be a passionate advocate for public service and women & children’s issues.
Because Helaine believes strongly in “giving back,” she has worked on several non-profit boards and, in 1998, founded The SunDial Foundation, Inc., which benefits our most vulnerable women, children and families. She also created Project PJs, offering new books, bears and pajamas to under-served children in the community.
Helaine and her husband, Ron Mario, now spend their time in Arlington, VA - where she continues her advocacy work - Longboat Key, Florida, and Cape May, NJ. She is grateful to be a twelve year cancer survivor and is most proud of her two children and four beautiful grandchildren. Her son, Sean, is the pianist who inspired the classical music background in The Lost Concerto.
When it comes to writing, Helaine wants, more than anything, to tell a good story, create characters with depth, and paint pictures with words. To make people feel. She wants to be a storyteller forever. http://helainemario.com/ Goodreads
My Review
The Lost Concerto starts out on a late August night in Brittany France, where a woman and her little son are on the run. They hide at Norte-Dame du Sauf Retour, Our Lady of the Safe Return, she thinking that this would be a safe place until she figures out what to do next. Unfortunately their hiding place is not safe from the hunter and the woman dies and the little boy flees hoping to get away.
Maggie O'Shea, a classical pianist, has not played since the death of her husband in a boating accident. Her husband, Johnny O'Shea, a journalist is on a mission to see what happened to Maggie's best friend Sofia and her little boy Tommy. Maggie is still grieving but often feels Johnny's presence urging her on and to continue through her grief because she blames herself for his death as she was the one who asked him to try to find out what happened to her best friend and who now has Tommy.
Maggie has a close friend in the FBI and he enlists Maggie's help because picture surfaces that links a lost love to little Tommy.. The reason? Well it turns out that the murder of her friend Sofia could be part of an investigation into stolen art, music and terrorism. The person that the FBI needs to find turns out to be a former lover and father of her son Brian, who is also a pianist, Zachary Law was reported MIA years back. Zach is the one who may hold the key to this entire mystery if he is alive. Through the FBI agent, Maggie is to have a man by the name of Beckett who just wants to be at home in the Blue Ridge Mountains, a kind of crusty person with baggage of his own along with her as she travels to France. Together they need to see if they can find Zach Law and figure out who and why Sofia Orsini was murdered and what about the musical masterpiece that has been missing for years.
This is one of those mysteries that you have to keep turning the pages because you just have to know what happens next. Lots of twists and turns to keep the reader interested. Lots of suspense, political intrigue and lost love. This novel has elements of vengeance, loss and courage. There are lots of good and enough bad guys to keep the reader interested. I enjoyed the authors way of telling a story with a fast paced, page turning theme and well thought out characters. I recommend this book to anyone who loves a well written, compelling story. This is the author's second suspense novel, the first was Firebird published in 2013.
I received a copy of the book for review and was not monetarily compensated for said review.
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Aimee
...was cruelly yanked away from her first and only love. She's never gotten over him and watched from afar as he rose to superstardom. She's let fear control her and never reached out to him no matter how much she wanted to. This time is different. This time, she's determined to see things through to the end. Will he still want her?
Brent
...tried to get over the woman who shattered his heart. If she wanted to find him she could. He never stopped hoping she would come back into his life, but after all this time he knows it's highly doubtful he'll ever see her again. What would he say to her anyway?
I live right in the middle of California's Central Valley - so I am a Valley Girl! I have four great kids and a husband who believes in supporting my dreams, no matter how crazy they are. I have a passion for writing about challenging men and the women that take them on. And yes, I love a good glass of wine!
I'd love to hear feedback from my readers. You can reach me at chelseadroy@gmail.com and can visit me on Goodreads at https://www.goodreads.com/chelsearoy.
Happy reading!
Malcolm Carter and Ryan Boone, two New York City friends whose lives have been dominated by the financial markets, are about to exchange their charts and reports for guns and survival supplies—but not because they want to. When China and Japan decide it’s time to dump U.S. Treasury Bonds, an economic nightmare plays out in America. The Federal Reserve watches helplessly as the dollar is decimated and the resulting food shortage spreads lawlessness across the land like a virus.
Malcolm is a successful day trader who always needs to make one more score before he’ll listen to Ryan and diversify some of his assets into real estate or gold. He figures an impressively-larger bank account might be the only way he can lure his Secret Service agent ex-wife back. Malcolm finally hits it big by aggressively shorting bonds when the market crashes, but waits too long to invest in tangibles. All that newfound money suddenly won’t by him a bar of gold, a pint of beer, or a minute of Hannah’s attention—especially when she’s in the field chasing down a former counterfeiting gang.
As luck would have it, Ryan turns out to be a closet doomsday prepper. The two of them attempt to escape the chaotic Big Apple and reach Ryan’s land in West Virginia, supplied only by the contents of Ryan’s bug-out bag. But it’s not going to be an easy journey. Travelling has become difficult and dangerous. Malcolm learns he must redirect the same tenacity which helped him beat the markets towards staying alive on the road …and, hopefully, finding Hannah.
About the Author
Ken Benton appears to be your run-of-the-mill city slicker at first glance, blissfully playing with his iPhone at the bar of the local barbeque joint while sipping on craft-brewed IPA. But he has a secret passion: doomsday survival prepping. And if you ever snuck up behind him to see what he was reading, it would likely be one of those apocalyptic-survival stories set after the collapse of modern society. Yes, he’s one of those nuts. But someday soon, Ken believes, those nuts may become the new upper class in society. Until then, we’ll just have to make do with story-telling. And preparing. Cheers.
Read an Excerpt
The constant smell of smoke validated the
continuous sound of sirens on 8th Avenue. Foot traffic was busy.
Malcolm reached inside his coat and felt his pistol, extremely grateful to have
it. Ryan didn’t have a holster, so kept his weapon in the front pocket of his
bag. For that reason he carried it loose over one shoulder. Still, Malcolm
would be faster on the draw, and thus the probable first line of defense if
they had any trouble.
Malcolm noticed he and Ryan weren’t
the only ones bugging out of New York. The street was full of others also
wearing backpacks, or else carrying travel bags of varying shapes and sizes. No
one moved slowly. Most people headed north. Many looked no better prepared for
the chaos than confused tourists would be.
“They’ll have a tough time going
that way,” Ryan said.
“Why’s that?”
“There’s a ‘black bloc’ happening
on the west side of Central Park. Pretty big, from what I hear. So the park
isn’t exactly the safest place right now, either.”
Malcolm strained to see up the
street. “What in the world is a black bloc?”
“This way,” Ryan said turning west
on 52nd Street. Malcolm was happy to follow. The last place he
wanted to pass was the alley two streets north.
“It’s best if we walk a few feet
apart from each other.” Ryan used his arm to space himself from Malcolm. “I’ll
scan the left, you watch the right. A black bloc is a street protest, a form of
demonstration that originated in Germany. Thousands of protestors take over an
entire street, or any large public area, all of them dressed in full black.”
“That’s how the anarchists dress.”
“Right,” Ryan said. “They’re
usually in the mix pretty heavy in a black bloc. But so are other kinds of
rebels. Word gets around and every nut on the tree shows up. Those things
always end badly—with vandalism, violence, and the inevitable but wholly
necessary use of excess police force.”
As they crossed 9th Ryan
added, “I can’t think of anything more absurd than desiring anarchy. Well,
those idiots might get their wish this time. Would serve them right. I don’t
imagine many of them being trained in survival tactics.”
“Just don’t tell them that,”
Malcolm said.
Ryan gave him a curious look.
They increased their pace. Soon
they were past 11th, almost to the Hudson River, alongside De Witt
Clinton Park.
“Let’s jog across the park
diagonally,” Ryan said.
“Wait a second. You said parks
weren’t safe, and that we shouldn’t go north.”
“I said Central Park wasn’t safe.
And we’re only going a couple streets up. Come on!” Ryan nudged him and they
began running through the trees.
A couple streets up? He must not
have said that right. The ferry crossing was all the way at 39th
Street. That’s where Malcolm figured they were headed. If the ferry was still
running, it did sound like a good way to get off the peninsula. Unless they
were taking a water taxi instead—but it seemed unlikely those would be
operating today.
The two of them came out of the
trees on to the baseball field at De Witt Clinton Park. Malcolm heard a dog
growl. He looked in the direction of the sound. A bald man held a large pit
bull by the collar, at the edge of the trees. The dog must not like people
running. Malcolm decided to keep an eye on them.
The man then crouched beside his
dog, shouted something, and let go of its collar. The dog broke into a sprint
towards Malcolm and Ryan.
Was this really happening? That son
of a bitch just ordered his pit bull to attack them.
“Ryan!” Malcolm said stopping. He
drew his pistol. Ryan turned and saw the dog coming. He cursed and swung his
bag around, fumbling for the front pocket zipper. But the dog was much too fast
for him.
Not for Malcolm. He quickly had his
pistol aimed at the bounding canine. Its owner must have noticed, because he
whistled for the dog. But it was too late. The pit bull was committed. It
picked Malcolm as the first target. Malcolm fired one round just as it leapt at
him. The impact of the 5.7x28mm slug into the dog’s chest sent it spinning
backwards. It landed on its head and crumpled, making no further sound.
Ryan finally got his gun out. The
dog owner shouted in anger and began running towards them. Malcolm and Ryan both
aimed their weapons at him in response. He stopped, held up his hands, and
walked backwards.
Malcolm and Ryan resumed jogging,
slowly, while holding their weapons and keeping an eye on the would-be
attacker.
When they reached the third base
line they stopped. Malcolm re-holstered his gun. Ryan put his safety latch on,
and then tucked the 9-millimeter into his jeans, pulling his shirt tail over
the bulge.
“I guess you were right,” Ryan
said. “I’ll keep my weapon handier. Nice shot. That thing fires those little
rounds impressively. Kind of wish we’d gotten the scumbag owner as well.”
“Me too. Now where are we going?
The ferry landing?”
“No.”
They came out of the park on 54th
Street. Ryan pointed to the river. “Pier 96, right there. We better keep
moving.”
“What, the kayak place?”
Ryan didn’t answer. He started off
in a trot again. Malcolm ran to keep up with him. As they crossed 12th
Avenue, Malcolm looked to the air. Several helicopters circled to the north.
They must be over the black bloc.
A car horn blared, startling
Malcolm, instantly drawing his eyes back to the street where a taxi sped by in
front of them, easily doing 75. The crazy driver had a fare in the back seat.
Must be someone important—or rich.
Malcolm and Ryan finished crossing
the wide street, ran through the short section of the Port Authority parking
lot, and continued on to the Greenway Lawn. Several homeless people were
camping there. Malcolm tried to see if any of them were Dion, but it was
difficult while running. He also kept an eye out for dogs.
The Manhattan Community Boathouse,
a nonprofit organization, came into view. Most New York City residents knew
about the free kayak rentals on Pier 96. On weekends during warm months you had
to get there early or late if you wanted one without waiting for hours. Malcolm
and Hannah came on a Tuesday evening once, and had no trouble acquiring a
tandem kayak. Starting in May the boathouse opened at 5:00 pm on weekdays. It
was only about 3:30 now.
But they looked open, judging by
the half-dozen or so kayaks on the water. The kayakers didn’t seem to be
flitting about, as was normal. Rather, they all paddled towards the west shore
of the river. One was just leaving the floating dock.
As Malcolm and Ryan drew closer, it
became apparent the kayaker leaving the pier wasn’t doing so with the well
wishes of the staff. A man and a woman stood on the dock shouting angry voices
at him.
That didn’t slow Ryan down. He ran
onto the pier and down the upper ramp that led to the covered shed where all
the kayaks were stored.
“We’re closed!” a stressed female
voice shouted. “Go away!”
Malcolm looked to the voice and saw
a petite, dirty-blond twenty-something behind a counter. She pointed back up
the ramp with a purple fingernail.
“Where’s Tim?” Ryan said. “I’m here
to see Tim.”
“Oh, are you here to help us?” The
girl came around the counter. “Thank God! People are just coming and taking the
kayaks by force, pushing us away when we try to stop them. Can you believe
that? We’re a nonprofit group! I called the police three times and they still
haven’t arrived.”
She then turned to the launching
barge and shouted.
“Tim! Some friends of yours are
here!”
The man down on the dock heard her.
He walked up the lower ramp, shaking his head of curly black hair and stepping
carefully in his flip flops. Malcolm felt a little out of place in jeans and a
sport coat. But he noticed some of the kayakers out on the Hudson were also
fully dressed.
Tim instantly recognized Ryan when
he got to the shed.
“It’s gone,” he said raising his
hands up. “Someone took it. Sorry. You should have gotten here a couple hours
ago.”
Ryan tilted his head. “What do you
mean, someone took it? I paid you a hefty sum to keep it on hand for me.”
The girl spoke. “What’s he talking
about, Tim?”
“Man, I couldn’t hold it! Thugs are
taking our kayaks! Tough guys—some of them armed, no doubt. There’s nothing we
can do here. The city is in chaos, in case you haven’t heard.”
“Well, then give me back my $300.”
Ryan held his hand out.
Tim looked down and muttered, “I
don’t have it.”
“What?” the girl said. “You took a
bribe, Tim?”
Tim turned to her. “I sold him the
leaky green one. It’s been patched too many times now, and we needed to get rid
of it anyway. He said he only wanted it for getting across the river.”
“That’s not what we do here, Tim—”
“You don’t have my money,” Ryan
said glancing around the shed, “so you owe me one tandem kayak. Any of these
will do.” He began reaching towards one on a rack.
“No!” the girl said.
“No.” Tim stepped in front of Ryan,
blocking his path. “You can’t have one of these.”
Ryan only stared back.
At that moment, two more men
arrived in the shed. They definitely didn’t work there. One was bald and wore a
black leather vest and black jeans. The other had a spikey haircut and lots of
piercings. He carried a duffel bag.
Malcolm didn’t take his eyes off
the bald one. Was that the guy who had the pit bull in the park? Malcolm
couldn’t tell. He studied Malcolm longer than was comfortable and sneered
before grabbing a kayak.
“What are you doing?” the girl said
to him.
“Going kayaking.”
“No you’re not. We’re closed.”
“Grab that end,” the bald one said
to his friend. His friend slung the duffel bag over one shoulder and picked up
the front end of the kayak.
“I said no!” The girl ran at them.
The one in front swung his bag so
it smacked her on the side of the head. The girl shrieked as she fell. Tim then
came at the guy, but wisely stopped and reconsidered when his adversary assumed
a combative stance. Tim ended up bending down to help the girl, who was now
crying and whimpering.
The bald guy stared at Malcolm
again. Malcolm instinctively reached inside his coat. The bald guy didn’t care
for that movement, and reached inside his vest in reaction.
Ryan moved his hand under his shirttail.
The punk with the duffel bag then set his end of the kayak down, unzipped his
bag, and put his hand inside. The four of them stayed in that position for the
longest fifteen seconds of Malcolm’s life.
