📘🎥Friday's Film Adaptation🎥📘: Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo by Ted W Lawson

Summary:
Ted W. Lawson’s classic Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo appears in an enhanced reprint edition on the sixtieth anniversary of the Doolittle Raid on Japan. “One of the worst feelings about that time,” Ted W. Lawson writes, “was that there was no tangible enemy. It was like being slugged with a single punch in a dark room, and having no way of knowing where to slug back.” He added, “And, too, there was a helpless, filled-up, want-to-do-something feeling that [the Japanese] weren’t coming—that we’d have to go all the way over there to punch back and get even.”

Lawson gives a vivid eyewitness account of the unorthodox assignment that eighty five intrepid volunteer airmen—the “Tokyo Raiders”—under the command of celebrated flier James H. Doolittle executed in April 1942. The plan called for sixteen B-25 twin-engine medium bombers of the Army Air Corps to take off from the aircraft carrier Hornet, bomb industrial targets in Japan, and land at airfields in China. While the raid came off flawlessly, completely surprising the enemy, a shortage of fuel caused by an early departure, bad weather, and darkness took a heavy toll of the raiders. For many, the escape from China proved a greater ordeal. Peter B. Mersky provides new information on the genesis of the raid, places it in the context of the early operations against Japan, and updates Ted Lawson’s biography.

General Jimmy Doolittle trains American troops for the first airborne attacks on Japan.

Release Date: November 15, 1944
Release Time: 138 minutes

Cast:
Van Johnson as Lieutenant Ted W. Lawson
Robert Walker as Corporal David Thatcher
Tim Murdock as Lt. Dean Davenport
Don DeFore as Lt. Charles McClure
Herbert Gunn as Lt. Bob Clever (as Gordon McDonald)
Phyllis Thaxter as Ellen Lawson
Stephen McNally as Lt. Thomas "Doc" White (as Horace McNally)
Spencer Tracy as Lieutenant Colonel James Doolittle
John R. Reilly as Lt. Jacob "Shorty" Manch
Robert Mitchum as Lt. Bob Gray
Scott McKay as Captain David M. "Davey" Jones
Donald Curtis as Lt. Randall
Louis Jean Heydt as Navy Lieutenant Henry Miller
William "Bill" Phillips as Lt. Don Smith
Douglas Cowan as Lt. Everett "Brick" Holstrom
Paul Langton as Captain "Ski" York
Leon Ames as Lt. Jurika
Bill Williams as Bud Felton
Robert Bice as "Jig" White
Hsin Kung as Dr. Chung (as Dr. Hsin Kung)
Benson Fong as Young Dr. Chung
Ching Wah Lee as Guerilla Charlie
Alan Napier as Mr. Parker
Ann Shoemaker as Mrs. Parker
Dorothy Morris as Jane (as Dorothy Ruth Morris)
Jacqueline White as Emmy York
Selena Royle as Mrs. Reynolds
John Dehner as Lieutenant Commander (uncredited)
Blake Edwards as Lt. Smith's Crewman (uncredited)

Awards:
1944 Academy Awards
Robert Surtees, Harold Hal Rosson - Best Black and White Cinematography - Nominated
Arnold A. Gillespie, Donald Jahraus, Warren Newcombe, Douglas Shearer - Best Special Effects - Won

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Author Bio:
Ted W. Lawson (1917-1992) was a native of California. He joined the Army Air Corps while working for the Douglas Aircraft Company in Santa Monica and received his wings in November 1940. After the attack on Pearl Harbor, he volunteered for a secret mission that evolved into the raid on Tokyo in April 1942. Random House published his account of the raid, Thirty Seconds Over Tokyo, in 1943. Lawson subsequently served as a technical adviser to MGM during the making of the popular wartime movie based on his book. After retiring from military service in 1945, he reentered private industry and worked on several projects that involved aircraft and space programs.

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Book Blitz: Sicarii by Adrienne Wilder

Series: Sicarii #1-3

Author: Adrienne Wilder

Genre: M/M Romance, Suspense

Release Date: April 28, 2020

Marcel isn’t going to save them.

He’s going to change them.

Because life is a gift.

Part 1
Summary:
Ben Corbin lost his parents then his uncle and clues to the man responsible take him to the small town of Spencer. While Ben is determined to get justice for the murder of his family, he finds himself drawn to Jacob Moser, an ex-prostitute with ties to the killer.

Jacob Moser owes his life to Marcel Serghi. A man forged into a killer under the most brutal conditions. A man who saved him when no one else would.

Ben and Jacob, two men from completely different worlds, who have no idea how much they need each other until a killer brings them together.

Part 2

Summary:

Ben Corbin has been swept up in a vicious game of revenge. A pawn to be sacrificed in a life or death game of chess.

In order to survive, Ben must make a deal with the devil, Marcel Serghi.

A mistake from Jacob’s past is brought into the game. And it could cost Jacob more than his pride.

It could cost him Ben.

Ben and Jacob, two men from completely different worlds, who have no idea how much they need each other until a killer brings them together.

Part 3

Summary:

Marcel Serghi lives by the rules of his House Sicarii where he was honed into the perfect killer; merciless, emotionless, incapable of remorse.

Jacob Moser has always had undying loyalty to Marcel for saving his life.
Until Ben.

Now Jacob must make a choice, to love or live. Because breaking a vow with Marcel means returning what he gifted Jacob.

A chance to live.

Ben and Jacob, two men from completely different worlds, who have no idea how much they need each other until a killer brings them together.

Part 1
Chapter I
The killer watched.

Light bled from Sam Water’s window, backlighting his silhouette. The pencil danced in his hand. Whatever drove him from his bed must have been important. He was up early, even for a school day.

Marcel leaned against the porch railing and coaxed a cigarette from the package in his hand. The momentary flame from the lighter outlined the web of scar tissue across his palm and three and a half fingers. The car bomb had also spared his thumb. A good thing. Learning how to write with his left hand would have been a bitch.

Not that an old dog couldn’t be taught a new trick. He was no old dog, but the teachings ingrained in him had been done so under conditions leaving no room for change.

The cherry of his cigarette flared in the darkness.

Night in this suburban neighborhood was nothing like where he’d grown up. Tucked in the mountains, there were only the stars, the moon, and the occasional candle. There the darkness wasn’t just a state of being. It was a living thing. All-consuming and unforgiving, conspiring with the wilderness to kill those too weak to survive.

Here the darkness was just a veil; once lifted, life returned, shattering any chance of reaching such perfection.

The storm door to the house opened, and the wooden slats on the porch creaked.

Mild green tea and aloe mixed with the honeysuckle blooming along the split rail fence nestled between the houses. The heat left over from the shower clung to Jacob’s skin.

“I wish you wouldn’t smoke.” In the darkness, there was only the sound of his breathing, the rustle of his clothes, the weight of his body pressing against the space around Marcel. A space that shrank to nothing with another small step.

Jacob’s caress traced the line of Marcel’s jaw. Layers of scars disrupted the gentle movement.

“Did you find your money?” Marcel exhaled a stream of bitter smoke.

“You gave me too much again.”

“It is a tip. For…you know. Good service.”

Jacob teased his fingers down the back of Marcel’s neck. There was more in his touch than physical contact. There was longing, yearning, endless want. But Marcel would never be able to give the man what he yearned for.

“You don’t need to tip me. You already give me so much.”

“I make you live in a motel.”

“Only because it’s close.”

“I could buy you a house.” The tip of the cigarette flared. Jacob was right, he shouldn’t smoke. Damn things never tasted like anything but shit.

“I don’t want a house.”

“You should. You are young. Young people should want a house. A family. A car. You have nothing.”

Jacob rested his cheek on Marcel’s shoulder. “I have you.”

“Nothing.” Marcel snuffed out the cigarette between his finger and thumb, then slid the butt into his shirt pocket. “You should go. Get some sleep.”

“I napped.”

Marcel cupped Jacob’s chin. He didn’t need the light to know how Jacob pleaded with his eyes.

Marcel saw it every time they were together. “No. I have told you many times.”

“Maybe I keep hoping.”

“It is a waste.”

“I don’t see it like that.”

“I could let you go. I could give you enough to go wherever you wanted. Back to school, maybe. What was it you wanted to do again?”

“I don’t want to go to school.”

“You should.”

“I’m happy.”

“You need more than an old man’s cock in your ass. You could go back and get your degree.”

“It takes years to be a doctor, and that dream sailed a long time ago.”

He was young enough to catch up to it. Or simply change direction altogether. All Jacob needed was motivation. A reason to want more. Someway for him to see there was more.

Marcel leaned down, and Jacob tipped his face up, leaving his mouth an inch, maybe less, but definitely not more, away from Marcel’s.

“You need to save those for someone you love.” Marcel traced the bow of Jacob’s lips with his thumb.

“Maybe I have.”

“No, Jacob. I fuck you. That is all.”

“And I’m okay with that. I—”

Marcel stopped him with a press of his finger. The tremor running down Jacob’s body was nothing more than a flutter of his pulse.

Jacob swallowed. “Please don’t send me away.”

One day Marcel would. But not today. Or tomorrow. Jacob wasn’t ready. “Friday. Ten o’clock.”

Marcel went back to tracing Jacob’s lips. He deserved to be kissed, to be loved. But that part of Marcel had been stripped away those nights on a mountain ledge when he was a boy.

“Go home.” He patted Jacob’s cheek. “Rest. You will need it.”

The whisper of tennis shoes against wooden slats faded into steps of rubber soles on concrete. Then those too were gone, leaving Marcel to the darkness.

In the window of the house next door, the boy finished writing whatever had pulled him out of bed. He folded the piece of paper in careful movements. Then he disappeared from view, and the patch of light coming from his lamp winked out.

And the killer watched.

Author Bio:
I am a writer of contemporary and speculative fiction and artist of all things monster. I live to create new worlds and the people in them. Several of my books have been best sellers both nationally and internationally.

I do my best to write original stories with powerful characters and emotion as well as a fast-paced plot. My goal isn't just to deliver a good story but to take the reader into the story and let them experience the characters as if they are right there with them.

While almost all my books have a romantic element, I will be the first to admit, they are not traditional romance. In fact, I'd like to think there is nothing traditional about them. And the stories I paint are done so way outside the lines of traditional genres.

One of my favorite things to do as a writer is push the boundaries of what makes a story and to deliver the unexpected and maybe even change the perspective of the reader.

My characters are more often than not, beautifully flawed, not always the good guy, and make mistakes. Their stories will take dark turns which, in the end, make the light at the end of the tunnel all the brighter.

If you're looking for something different, exciting, and unique, my books are for you.

Check out my website for updates and how to contact me. I love hearing from fans.

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Blog Tour: Nailed by KM Neuhold

Title: Nailed

Author: KM Neuhold

Series: Four Bears Construction #2

Genre: M/M Romance

Release Date: April 28, 2020

Summary:
My new neighbor is a total tool

He hated me from the second he laid eyes on me, and I don’t have the first clue why…

But, if he wants to hate me, I’m happy to give him a few reasons: mowing the lawn at dawn on the weekend, leaving garbage cans in front of his driveway, renting a petting zoo for my backyard...making a list of ways to drive him crazy is half the fun.

He deserves it with the way he’s driving me crazy right back without even trying— walking around without a shirt on, sweaty rippling muscles on full display, well-worn denim jeans perfectly molded to his...well, you get the idea.

My point is, if he wants a war, I’ll give him one.

***Nailed is an enemies to lovers, neighbors who can't stand each other, omg the anger banging, drool worthy, low angst story, which happens to be the second in my Four Bears Construction Series. It CAN be read as a stand alone. There are NO shifters in this series, only the OTHER kind of bears.

I feel like I’m living in a never ending loop of torture, brought to me by my neighbor who’s clearly Satan in the flesh. Did I die and go to Hell? Is that what happened? Because, at this point, I’d believe it. 

“What the hell?” I mutter as I step out onto my back porch, once again in nothing but my underwear. My half asleep brain is sure for a few seconds that I’m dreaming. There’s no way there are goats and sheep and fucking donkeys wandering around in his backyard right now, right? Rudy barks excitedly and tries to rush past me, but I manage to snag his collar. 

“You an ass man?” Stone calls with a grin, and I’m surprised I don’t give myself a stroke for how much effort it takes not to go over there and punch him. “Get it, ass?” he says, pointing to the donkey he’s holding on a leash.

“What the fuck is going on? Why do you have a whole zoo in your backyard?” Rudy whines and tugs as I hold tight to his collar.

“It’s my goddaughter’s eighth birthday, I rented her a petting zoo.”

“You can’t just rent a bunch of farm animals,” I argue.

Stone looks around pointedly at the menagerie. “I’m pretty sure I can.”

“Hey, quit it,” I shout at one of the goats who has wandered over onto my property and is now helping himself to the lavender bush I planted. “Shoo.”

“Edgar, come back over here,” Stone scolds the goat.

“Edgar? You know the names of every one of these animals?” I ask skeptically.

“No, but doesn’t he look like an Edgar?”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” I mutter. “Keep them off my lawn and out of my bushes or your ass will be over here planting all new ones for me,” I warn. A few butterflies flutter past, one of them resting on my lavender bush for a beat before floating away again, but even that isn’t enough to lower my blood pressure.

“Jack will be happy to,” Stone assures me with a serious nod before breaking into another grin. “Get it? Jack ass?” The donkey brays as if he’s in on the joke.

I hate to admit it, but that’s almost funny. But I’ll be damned if I give him the satisfaction of getting a smile from me. Not after he woke me up with some kind of weirdo Old McDonald role play at eight in the morning on a Saturday.

Author Bio:
Author K.M.Neuhold is a complete romance junkie, a total sap in every way. She started her journey as an author in new adult, MF romance, but after a chance reading of an MM book she was completely hooked on everything about lovely- and sometimes damaged- men finding their Happily Ever After together. She has a strong passion for writing characters with a lot of heart and soul, and a bit of humor as well. And she fully admits that her OCD tendencies of making sure every side character has a full backstory will likely always lead to every book having a spin-off or series. When she's not writing she's a lion tamer, an astronaut, and a superhero...just kidding, she's likely watching Netflix and snuggling with her husky while her amazing husband brings her coffee.

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Monday's Memorial Moment: Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail by Charlie Cochrane

Summary:
Somebody appears to be lacing certain Cambridge dons' food with laxatives. When they appear to have turned to stronger poison Jonty Stewart and Orlando Coppersmith get on the trail. Only Jonty's laid up in sick bay with a rugby injury so he'll have to wait for the clues to come to him...

I've said it before and I'll say it again, whether the author writes 100 full length novels or only one 2-page holiday coda, I will always be on board and it will never be enough.  Jonty and Orlando are quite possibly my favorite fictional sleuthing duo, and trust me I read a lot of mysteries and I have a long list of faves😉.

This time around, has a nasty prank led to dire unforeseen consequences or well thought out mayhem?  You know my answer to that is to read for yourself and as this is mystery novella entry in the series I'll be spoiling even less😉.  Trust me, if you love Jonty and Orlando than you already know this is a fantastic gem and if you've never read Cambridge Fellows Mysteries before, you need to.

As for Jonty and Orlando themselves, I think Poisonous Trail actually conveys how much they mean to each other more than almost any of the other entries.  Considering they spend so much of the story apart that seems like an odd thing for me to say but as the old adage goes, "absence makes the heart grow fonder", not being able to bounce ideas off each other instantly they each come to appreciate the other that much more.  Don't get me wrong, there was never any doubt how they felt for one another it's just you get the idea that they maybe took their proximity for granted and with Jonty in the sick ward on campus that proximity is not there at the moment.

Talking about Jonty, Orlando, and their "proximity", if you've been a fan of the series then you already know most of the heat is off page.  Now, some prefer to "see" the hot-and-heavy, Lord knows I'm no prude but sometimes it's nice to have the story concentrate more on the mystery and the relationship leaving the heat to the imagination.  Personally, when done right I think off-page can strengthen the readers' bond with the characters because the author has to convey the romance more deeply.  Just another reason why I love this series so much.  I should add that I really loved seeing Dr. Panesar get to scratch his sleuthing itch this time around, he's not one to often aid them in their cases so I think it adds to the boys finding themselves in unwanted territory of Jonty not being able to "pound the pavement" as it were in regards to doing the leg work.

Cambridge Fellows is a historical mystery series which I know isn't everyone's cup of tea. As a history buff I really appreciate the author's obvious respect for the era with her attention to detail, from phrases to clothing to regulations and everything in between.  Just because the details are there if you are one who shies away from the genre because they don't want to read a school lesson, don't worry the author never lets the details get so heavy that they screw with the reading experience.

One last thing: if you are new to the series and wondering about reading order because I believe Poisonous Trail is the 17th published work, I highly recommend checking out the chronological timeline on the author's website because some stories "go back and fill in".  Would you be lost if you read them willy-nilly?  No.  As each entry is a new mystery, you could make a case of them being standalones but as it's also a journey of Jonty and Orlando's relationship, there is a certain level of growth in each one so I highly recommend reading them chronologically if you can but it's not a must.

RATING:

A bright afternoon, with a gentle breeze. St Bride’s rugby pitch, the home team turning out against St Thomas’s college. A tight game, hard fought. Jonty, arms raised to charge down a drop kick from the opposition, stumbled over a churned-up piece of turf, found himself diving headlong towards a boot and took evasive action. It wasn’t his best decision.

*******

“What are you?” Orlando Coppersmith frowned so hard that his entire forehead resembled a linen shirt that had just been wrung.

“Well, to give me my full title, I’m the Kildare Fellow in Tudor Literature.” Jonty Stewart put on a brave front but he knew that he would not stand a cross-examination. Especially when he was at the disadvantage of lying on a bed in the St. Bride’s college sickbay with the twin intimidations of his lover’s scowling presence in the room and the college nurse outside the door, cleaving her prow-bosomed way en route to the rest of her charges.

“I don’t refer to your paid employment, Dr Stewart, I allude to your conduct today. The conduct that brought you here.”

Jonty sighed. “I know. I’m an idiot.”

Orlando’s mouth almost tweaked into a smile but he managed to restrain it. “I would have thought the Kildare Fellow would have been able to produce an adjective to go with the noun.” He sat back in the little wooden chair provided for visitors, his arms folded, awaiting the answer.

“I’m a complete and utter idiot.”

“That’s nearer the truth. I can think of a few more terms but I’ll excuse you them. Given your condition.”

“I thank you for such small mercies.” Jonty changed position, easing his leg. Only a patchwork quilt covered his lower regions, hiding the fact that he wore neither shoes nor socks or indeed anything below the waist. Not that he’d been wearing trousers when the mishap had happened. His right calf had been bandaged up to within an inch of its life after his rugby shorts had been cut off him quite mercilessly by Orlando and the nurse, who had decided that, despite being baggy, they’d never come off in the normal way without causing more pain and damage.

Jonty suspected that Orlando would have been happy to suggest that was exactly what they should do to teach him a lesson. He had huffed and puffed and complained all the way through the process, probably to cover up the fact that he was worried. Jonty could only hope he’d enjoyed it just a little bit. Getting their hands on each other’s flesh was usually a treat without comparison and one unlikely to be repeated any time soon, given the state of Jonty’s leg.

Mercy had eventually triumphed over justice, so now he had been made comfortable, propped up with pillows to await the arrival of the doctor.

“I bet you’re enjoying this.” Orlando had risen, to stare out of the small window across the college rooftops. “Being borne on a stretcher from the rugby pitch, into an invalid carriage and through St. Bride’s, like Queen Victoria in her pomp. Now having the prospect of being waited on hand and foot, with everyone fussing round you.”

“That may appeal, but my leg hurts like billy-oh.” Jonty carefully smoothed over the quilt, which was said to be the product of Ariadne Sheridan’s fair hands. Back in the days she’d been Ariadne Peters and the chatelaine of the master’s lodge at the side of her brother, she’d crafted a series of beautiful covers for the sick bay. To provide, she’d said, a little touch of home comfort for the students—or fellows—who found themselves ensconced there.

“One might say it served you right to be suffering.” Orlando, still in his muddy rugger jersey, kept his gaze fixed outside, possibly afraid that if he contemplated Jonty’s stricken frame his mood might soften. “What exactly did you do on that pitch?”

“I scored one magnificent try and made another. Both of the kicks beautifully taken by—”

“No Jonty. That wasn’t the question. What did you do to get yourself laid up like this?”

“Ah. Yes. Well.” The dreaded question to which the questioner knew the answer and was using it to make the recipient squirm. Jonty took a deep breath. “Well, I started to charge down this drop kick and then I saw a boot coming straight for my face. At which point I thought Mama wouldn’t want to see her lovely boy disfigured so I twisted out of the way and…” He tailed off. The rest must have been obvious at the time, from the awful way his leg had gone awry as he hit the ground to the howl of pain that he had given. He was sure he’d heard a breaking noise, as well, but perhaps best not to mention that at present. “It was better that my leg copped it, surely, rather than me lose my good looks?”

Saturday Series Spotlight

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Lessons in Playing a Murderous Tune

Author Bio:
As Charlie Cochrane couldn't be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice - like managing a rugby team - she writes. Her favourite genre is gay fiction, predominantly historical romances/mysteries, but she's making an increasing number of forays into the modern day. She's even been known to write about gay werewolves - albeit highly respectable ones.

Her Cambridge Fellows series of Edwardian romantic mysteries were instrumental in seeing her named Speak Its Name Author of the Year 2009. She’s a member of both the Romantic Novelists’ Association and International Thriller Writers Inc.

Happily married, with a house full of daughters, Charlie tries to juggle writing with the rest of a busy life. She loves reading, theatre, good food and watching sport. Her ideal day would be a morning walking along a beach, an afternoon spent watching rugby and a church service in the evening.

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Lessons in Following a Poisonous Trail #12.9

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