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Tom Swift and His War Tank is the 21st book in the original Tom Swift series."Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading.""These spirited tales convey in a realistic way, the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion and other successful inventions. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good."This series of adventure novels starring the genius boy inventor Tom Swift falls into the genre of "invention fiction" or "Edisonade".
Past Memories
Ceasing his restless walk up and down the room, Tom Swift strode to the window and gazed across the field toward the many buildings, where machines were turning out the products evolved from the brains of his father and himself. There was a worried look on the face of the young inventor, and he seemed preoccupied, as though thinking of something far removed from whatever it was his eyes gazed upon.
"Well, I'll do it!" suddenly exclaimed Tom. "I don't want to, but I will. It's in the line of 'doing my bit,' I suppose; but I'd rather it was something else. I wonder-"
"Ha! Up to your old tricks, I see, Tom!" exclaimed a voice, in which energy and friendliness mingled pleasingly. "Up to your old tricks!"
"Oh, hello, Mr. Damon!" cried Tom, turning to shake hands with an elderly gentleman-that is, elderly in appearance but not in action, for he crossed the room with the springing step of a lad, and there was the enthusiasm of youth on his face. "What do you mean-my old tricks?"
"Talking to yourself, Tom. And when you do that it means there is something in the wind. I hope, as a sort of side remark, it isn't rain that's in the wind, for the soldiers over at camp have had enough water to set up a rival establishment with Mr. Noah. But there's something going on, isn't there? Bless my memorandum book, but don't tell me there isn't, or I shall begin to believe I have lost all my deductive powers of reasoning! I come in here, after knocking two or three times, to which you pay not the least attention, and find you mysteriously murmuring to yourself.
"The last time that happened, Tom, was just before you started to dig the big tunnel-No, I'm wrong. It was just before you started for the Land of Wonders, as we decided it ought to be called. You were talking to yourself then, when I walked in on you, and-Say, Tom!" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Damon eagerly, "don't tell me you're going off on another wild journey like that-don't!"
"Why?" asked Tom, smiling at the energy of his caller.
"Because if you are, I'll want to go with you, of course, and if I go it means I'll have to start in as soon as I can to bring my wife around to my way of thinking. The last time I went it took me two weeks to get her to consent, and then she didn't like it. So if-"
"No, Mr. Damon," interrupted Tom, "I don't count on going on any sort of a trip-that is, any long one. I was just getting ready to take a little spin in the Hawk, and if you'd like to come along-"
"You mean that saucy little airship of yours, Tom, that's always trying to sit down on her tail, or tickle herself with one wing?"
"That's the Hawk!" laughed Tom; "though that tickling business you speak of is when I spiral. Don't you like it?"
"Can't say I do," observed Mr. Damon dryly.
"Well, I'll promise not to try any stunts if you come along," Tom went on.
"Where are you going?" asked his friend.
"Oh, no place in particular. As you surmised, I've been doing a bit of thinking, and-"
"Serious thinking, too, Tom!" interrupted Mr. Damon. "Excuse me, but I couldn't help overhearing what you said. It was something about going to do something though you didn't want to, and that it was part of your 'bit'. That sounds like soldier talk. Are you going to enlist, Tom?"
"No."
"Um! Well, then-"
"It's something I can't talk about, Mr. Damon, even to you, as yet," Tom said, and there was a new quality in his voice, at which his friend looked up in some surprise.
"Oh, of course, Tom, if it's a secret-"
"Well, it hasn't even got that far, as yet. It's all up in the air, so to speak. I'll tell you in due season. But, speaking of the air, let's go for a spin. It may drive some of the cobwebs out of my brain. Did I hear you say you thought it would rain?"
"No, it's as clear as a bell. I said I hoped it wouldn't rain for the sake of the soldiers in camp. They've had their share of wet weather, and, goodness knows, they'll get more when they get to Flanders. It seems to do nothing but rain in France."
"It is damp," agreed Tom. "And, come to think of it, they are going to have some airship contests over at camp to-day-for the men who are being trained to be aviators, you know. It just occurred to me that we might fly over there and watch them."
"Fine!" cried Mr. Damon. "That's the very thing I should like. I'll take a chance in your Hawk, Tom, if you'll promise not to try any spiral stunts."
"I promise, Mr. Damon. Come on! I'll have Koku run the machine out and get her ready for a flight to Camp. It's a good day for a jaunt in the air."
"Get out the Hawk, Koku," ordered the young inventor, as he motioned to a big man-a veritable giant-who nodded to show he understood. Koku was really a giant, one of a race of strange beings, and Tom Swift had brought the big man with him when he escaped from captivity, as those will remember who have read that book.
"Going far, Tom?" asked an aged man, coming to the door of one of the many buildings of which the shed where the airship was kept formed one.
"Not very far, Father," answered the young inventor. "Mr. Damon and I are going for a little spin over to Camp Grant, to see some aircraft contests among the army birdmen."
"Oh, all right, Tom. I just wanted to tell you that I think I've gotten over that difficulty you found with the big carburetor you were working on. You didn't say what you wanted it for, except that it was for a heavy duty gasolene engine, and you couldn't get the needle valve to work as you'd like. I think I've found a way."
"Good, Dad! I'll look at it when I come back. That carburetor did bother me, and if I can get that to work-well, maybe we'll have something soon that will-"
But Tom did not finish his sentence, for Koku was getting the aircraft in operation and Mr. Damon was already taking his place behind the pilot's seat, which would be occupied by Tom.
"All ready, are you, Koku?" asked the young inventor.
"All ready, Master," answered the giant.
There was a roar like that of a machine gun as the Hawk's engine spun the propeller, and then, after a little run across the sod, it mounted into the air, carrying Tom and Mr. Damon with it.
"Mind you, Tom, no stunts!" called the visitor to the young inventor through the speaking tube apparatus, which enabled a conversation to be carried on, even above the roar of the powerful engine. "Bless my overshoes! if you try, looping the loop with me-"
"I won't do anything like that!" promised Tom.
Away they soared, swift as a veritable hawk, and soon, after there had unrolled below their eyes a succession of fields and forest, there came into view rows and rows of small brown objects, among which beings, like ants, seemed crawling about.
"There's the Camp!" exclaimed Tom.
"I see," and Mr. Damon nodded.
As they approached, they saw, starting up from a green space amid the brown tents, what appeared to be big bugs of a dirty white color splotched with green.
"The aircraft-and they have camouflage paint on," said Tom. "We can watch 'em from up here!"
Mr. Damon nodded, though Tom could not see him, sitting in front of his friend as he was.
Up and up circled the army aircraft, and they seemed to bow and nod a greeting to the Hawk, which was soon in the midst of them. Tom and Mr. Damon, flying high, though at no great speed, looked at the maneuvers of the veterans and the learners-many of whom might soon be engaging the Boches in far-off France.
"Some of 'em are pretty good!" called Tom, through the tube. "That one fellow did the loop as prettily as I've ever seen it done," and Tom Swift had a right to speak as one of authority.
Tom and his friend watched the aircraft for some time, and then started off in a long flight, attaining a high speed, which, at first, made Mr. Damon gasp, until he became used to it. He was no novice at flying, and had even operated aeroplanes himself, though at no great height.
Suddenly the Hawk seemed to falter, almost as does a bird stricken by a hunter's gun. The craft seemed to hang in the air, losing motion as though about to plunge to earth unguided.
"What's the matter?" cried Mr. Damon.
"One of the control wires broken!" was Tom's laconic answer. "I'll have to volplane down. Sit tight, there's no danger!"
Mr. Damon knew that with so competent a pilot as Tom Swift in the forward seat this was true, but, nevertheless, he was a bit nervous until he felt the smooth, gliding motion, with now and then an upward tilt, which showed that Tom was coming down from the upper regions in a series of long glides. The engine had stopped, and the cessation of the thundering noise made it possible for Tom and his passenger to talk without the use of the speaking tube.
"All right?" asked Mr. Damon.
"All right," Tom answered, and a little later the machine was rolling gently over the turf of a large field, a mile or so from the camp.
Before Tom and Mr. Damon could get out of their seats, a man, seemingly springing up from some hollow in the ground, walked toward them.
"Had an accident?" he asked, in what he evidently meant for a friendly voice.
"A little one, easily mended," Tom answered.
He was about to take off his goggles, but at sight of the man's face a change came over the countenance of Tom Swift, and he replaced the eye protectors. Then Tom turned to Mr. Damon, as if to ask a question, but the stranger came so close, evidently curious to see the aircraft at close quarters, that the young inventor could not speak without being overheard.
Tom got out his kit of tools to repair the broken control, and the man watched him curiously. As he tinkered away, something was stirring among the past memories of the inventor. A question he asked himself over and over again was:
"Where have I seen this man before? His face is familiar, but I can't place him. He is associated with something unpleasant. But where have I seen this man before?"
Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good." This series of adventure novels starring the genius boy inventor Tom Swift falls into the genre of "invention fiction" or "Edisonade".
Tom Swift and His Air Scout is the 22nd book in the original Tom Swift series."Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading.""These spirited tales convey in a realistic way, the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion and other successful inventions. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good."This series of adventure novels starring the genius boy inventor Tom Swift falls into the genre of "invention fiction" or "Edisonade".
Tom Swift and His Photo Telephone is the 17th book in the original Tom Swift series."Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading.""These spirited tales convey in a realistic way, the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion and other successful inventions. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good."This series of adventure novels starring the genius boy inventor Tom Swift falls into the genre of "invention fiction" or "Edisonade".
High-spirited young Tom Swift is off on another of his many exciting adventures. This time he's in search of gold in an underground lost city. Tom finds the lost city in a remote area of Mexico, and he finds the gold. Getting into the city was difficult for the adventurers, but when they try to get out, then their real adventure begins. Tom and his companions find themselves trapped in an underground city which contains as many traps and mazes as an Egyptian pyramid.
Tom Swift in the Caves of Ice is the eighth book in the original Tom Swift series."Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading.""These spirited tales convey in a realistic way, the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion and other successful inventions. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good."This series of adventure novels starring the genius boy inventor Tom Swift falls into the genre of "invention fiction" or "Edisonade".
Tom Swift and His Wireless Message is the sixth book in the original Tom Swift series."Every boy possesses some form of inventive genius. Tom Swift is a bright, ingenious boy and his inventions and adventures make the most interesting kind of reading.""These spirited tales convey in a realistic way, the wonderful advances in land and sea locomotion and other successful inventions. Stories like these are impressed upon the memory and their reading is productive only of good."This series of adventure novels starring the genius boy inventor Tom Swift falls into the genre of "invention fiction" or "Edisonade".
"Never let anyone treat you like shit!" I learned that the hard way. For three years, I lived with my in-laws. They didn't treat me as their son-in-law but as a slave. I put up with everything because of my wife, Yolanda Lambert. She was the light of my life. Unfortunately, my whole world came crashing down the day I caught my wife cheating on me. I have never been so heartbroken. To have my revenge, I revealed my true identity. I was none other than Liam Hoffman—the heir of a family with trillions of dollars in assets! The Lamberts were utterly shocked after the big reveal. They realized what fools they had been for treating me like trash. My wife even knelt down and begged for my forgiveness. What do you think I did? Did I take her back or made her suffer? Find out!
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
“You need a bride, I need a groom. Why don’t we get married?” Both abandoned at the altar, Elyse decided to tie the knot with the disabled stranger from the venue next door. Pitying his state, she vowed to spoil him once they were married. Little did she know that he was actually a powerful tycoon. Jayden thought Elyse only married him for his money, and planned to divorce her when she was no longer of use to him. But after becoming her husband, he was faced with a new dilemma. “She keeps asking for a divorce, but I don’t want that! What should I do?”
"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.
Joelle thought she could change Adrian's heart after three years of marriage, but she realized too late that it already belonged to another woman. "Give me a baby, and I'll set you free." The day Joelle went into labor, Adrian was traveling with his mistress on his private jet. "I don't care whom you love. My debt is paid. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other." Not long after Joelle left, Adrian found himself begging on his knees. "Please come back to me."