Okay, I understand that nobody was thrilled with the description of this novel. That being the case, let's say you find it on Amazon and click on the link to the first page. If you read the following, would you want to read further?
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]TSALAGI TALES[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif](A modern warrior’s Journey)[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]CHAPTER ONE[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Smoke rolled across the rice paddy from the burning Muong village. Greg Daniels turned his head to glance at his platoon sergeant, seeking advice as what to do next.
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“[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]We gotta get outta here, lieutenant!”
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Greg nodded and Sergeant Martinez rose to signal the squad to withdraw.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]A withering fusillade came their way from Charlie entrenched to one side of the flaming huts. Greg heard the dreaded sound of metal slamming into flesh. Mentally checking himself first, he turned to his platoon sergeant. Martinez lay curled up against the rice paddy’s levee, hands clutching his throat. Scarlet blood pumped between his fingers. Greg sucked in a breath to scream for a medic - and gagged.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Greg awoke. A cough almost doubled him over. Damn! Forty years and I still smell that stinking place. He opened his eyes. They watered. It’s not a dream!
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]He turned to his wife. “Madge, get up. I smell smoke.” As he stepped from the big four-poster, he tensed. The floor felt warm. Greg slid his feet into his worn slippers, pulled on his robe and hurried to the window. His first thought was that the barn or the stables, the most vital part of The Daniel’s Horse Farm, had caught fire.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Nothing. No sign of anything burning.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]He turned and saw, in the dim light coming through the windows, his wife of more than thirty years rise from the bed. “The floor’s warm,” she said, worry creasing her brow.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Greg went to the door. Without thinking, he turned the knob as he had thousands of times before and opened the door.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Smoke and heat enveloped him, forcing him back into Madge who’d come up behind him. “Omigod!” he gasped.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Smoke-filled air trapped in the hall blasted past them to escape through the open bedroom windows. More thick smoke billowed up the stairwell.
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Both heard ominous sounds coming from the first floor. Even worse, when they pushed forward, tongues of flame licked at the newels at the bottom of the stairs.
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“[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]The house’s on fire,” Madge gasped, terror filling her words.
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“[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Get Rosy!” Greg yelled. “I’ll get Jimmy.”
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[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Thick smoke filled the hall. But, after decades of living in the old farmhouse, neither had to guess which way to go. Madge pushed past Greg and gasped in relief to see the little girl in her pink bunny jammies in the doorway to her room, clutching her worn puppy dog doll. Madge rushed forward and lifted Rosy into her arms.
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“[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Damn!” Greg swore as he found Jimmy’s bed unslept-in. He didn’t see the boy’s backpack. “He’s gone again,” he grumbled.
The adopted Vietnamese boy often sneaked out at night.[/FONT]
