Richard Sharpe and the Talavera Campaign, July 1809. Richard Sharpe, bold, professional and ruthless, goes to war. Once a private, now he leads his men into action in the bloodiest battle of the war. The danger is as great from his enemies on his own side as from those across the battlefield. But through treachery and gunsmoke, through swordfight and bloody warfare, Sharpe saves his own life and the honour of the regiment.<

A Richard Sharpe and the Destruction of Almeida, August 1810 Bold, professional and determined, Richard Sharpe embarks on a desperate mission. He must recover the treasure, vital to the success of the war, now hidden behind enemy lines. The gold is in the possession of a powerful guerrilla leader, feared by ally and enemy alike. And he has no love for Sharpe, the man who has stolen his woman. But Sharpe′s fiercest battles lie with the British officers, ignorant of his deadly secret and mistrustful of his ruthless methods.<

SUMMARY: "It is 1810, and in Napoleon's determination to conquer Portugal -- and push the British back to the sea -- he sends his largest army yet across the Spanish frontier. But between the Portuguese border and Napoleon's seemingly certain victory are twoobstacles -- a wasted land, stripped of food by Wellington's orders, and Captain Richard Sharpe. But Sharpe is in trouble. The captain of the Light Company is threatened from inside and out: First by an incompetent British officer, who by virtue of family connections is temporarily given Sharpe's command. An even greater danger is posed by two corrupt Portuguese brothers -- Major Ferreira, a high-ranking officer in the army of Portugal, and his brother, nicknamed ""Ferragus"" (after a legen-dary Portuguese giant), who makes no claims to respectability, preferring instead to rule by crude physical strength and pure intimidation. Together the brothers have developed a devious plot to ingratiate themselves with the French invaders who are threatening to become Portugal's new rulers. Sharpe's interference in the first stage of their plan earns the undying enmity of the brothers. Ferragus vows revenge and plots a merciless trap that seems certain to kill Sharpe and his intimates -- battle-tested ally Sergeant Harper, the Portuguese officer Jorge Vicente, and a prickly but lovely English governess. As the city of Coimbra is burned and pillaged, Sharpe and his companions plot a daring escape, ensuring that Ferragus will follow on toward Lisbon, into the jaws of a snare laid by Wellington -- the massive lines of Torres Vedras, a daring and ingenious last stand against the invaders. There, beneath the British guns, Sharpe is reunited with his shattered but grateful company, and meets his enemies in a thrilling and decisive fight.<

Richard Sharpe and his company are part of a small expeditionary force sent to break a bridge across the River Guadiana. What begins as a brilliant piece of soldiering turns into disaster, thanks to the brutal savagery of the French Colonel Vandal who is leading his battalion to join the siege of Cadiz. Sharpe extricates a handful of men from the debacle and is driven south into the threatened city. There, in Cadiz, he discovers more than one enemy. Many Spaniards doubt Britain′s motives and believe their future would be brighter if they made peace with the French, and one of them, a baleful priest, secures a powerful weapon to break the British alliance. He will use a beautiful whore and the letters she received from a wealthy man. The priest will use blackmail, and Sharpe must defeat him in a sinister war of knife and treachery in the dark alleys of the city. Yet the alliance will only survive if the French siege can be lifted. An allied army marches from the city to take on the more powerful French and, once again, a brilliant piece of soldiering turns to disaster, this time because the Spanish refuse to fight. A small British force is trapped by a French army, and the only hope now lies with the outnumbered redcoats who, on a hill beside the sea, refuse to admit defeat. And there, in the sweltering horror of Barrosa, Sharpe finds Colonel Vandal again.<

Richard Sharpe and the Battle of Fuentes de Oñoro, May 1811 The Complete Sharpe Collection with a new introduction by the author In the spring of 1811, while quartered in the crumbling Portuguese fort of San Isidro, Richard Sharpe and his men are attacked by an elite French unit commanded by the formidable Brigadier Loup, and suffer heavy losses. Sharpe has already clashed once with Loup, and the Frenchman has sworn to have his revenge. After the attack, Sharpe is faced with the ruin of his career and reputation, as the army′s high command tries to blame him for the disaster. With thousands of French troops massing at a tiny village nearby, Sharpe′s only hope is to redeem himself on the battlefield. To save his honour, Sharpe must lead his men to glory in the narrow streets of Fuentes de Oñoro.<

Richard Sharpe and the Siege of Badajoz, January to April 1812 The Complete Sharpe Collection with a new introduction by the author It was a hard winter. For Richard Sharpe it was the worst he could remember. He had lost his command to a wealthy man - a man with money to buy the promotion Sharpe coveted. And from England came his oldest enemy - the ruthless, indestructible Hakeswill - utterly intent on ruining Sharpe. But Sharpe is determined to change his luck. And the surest way is to lead the bloody attack on the impregnable fortress town of Badajoz, a road to almost certain death - or unimagined glory...<

The bitter rivalry between Sharpe and the ruthless Frenchman Colonel Leroux is brought to life against the vivid canvas of the Peninsular War. Richard Sharpe is once again at war. But this time his enemy is a single man - the ruthless, sadistic Colonel Leroux. Sharpe's mission is to safeguard El Mirador, the spy whose network of agents is vital to the British victory. So Sharpe must enter a new world of political and military intrigue. And in the unfamiliar surroundings of aristocratic Spanish society, his only guide is the beautiful Marquesa - a woman with her own secrets to conceal...<

This is a stand-alone short story -- It is the summer of 1812 and Richard Sharpe, newly recovered from the wound he received in the fighting at Salamanca, is given an easy duty; to guard a Commissary Officer posted to an obscure Spanish fort where there are some captured French muskets to repair. But unknown to the British, the French are planning a raid and Sharpe is in for a fight!<

A classic Sharpe adventure: Richard Sharpe and the Defence of Portugal, Christmas 1812. Newly promoted, Major Richard Sharpe leads his small force into the biting cold of the winter mountains. His task is to rescue a group of well-born women held hostage by a rabble of deserters. And one of the renegades is Sergeant Hakeswill, Sharpe's most implacable enemy. But the rescue is the least of Sharpe′s problems. He must face a far greater threat. With only the support of his own company and the new Rocket Troop - the last word in military incompetence - to back his gamble, Sharpe cannot afford even to recognize the prospect of defeat. For to surrender - or to fail - would mean the end of the war for the Allied armies...<

A classic Sharpe adventure: Richard Sharpe and the Vitoria Campaign, February to June 1813. Major Richard Sharpe awaits the opening shots of the army's new campaign with grim expectancy. Victory depends on the increasingly fragile alliance between Britain and Spain - an alliance that must be maintained at any cost. But Sharpe's enemy, Pierre Ducos, seizes a chance to both destroy the alliance and take a personal revenge on Sharpe. And when the lovely spy La Marquesa takes a hand in the game, Sharpe finds himself caught in a web of deadly intrigue and becomes a fugitive, hunted by enemy and ally alike.<

Major Sharpe should be fighting the French - but his worst enemies are in England. Major Richard Sharpe's men are in mortal danger - not from the French, but from the bureaucrats of Whitehall. Unless reinforcements can be brought from England, the depleted South Essex will be disbanded, their troops scattered throughout the army. Determined not to see his regiment die, Sharpe returns to England and uncovers a nest of well-bred, high-ranking traitors, any one of whom could utterly destroy his career with a word, or a stroke of the pen. Sharpe is forced into the most desperate gamble of his life - and not even the influence of the Prince Regent may be enough to save him.<

SUMMARY:Sharpe's Christmas: "...This is a stand alone book with two short stories --Richard Sharpe, commanding the Prince of Wale's Own Volunteers, finds himself in a high, hard place with an enemy brigade on one side and a desperate force of Frenchmen fleeing their defeat in Spain on the other. Common sense suggests that he must avoid a fight, but it is Christmastime, and miracles are supposed to happen at the dark heart of the year, and so Sharpe makes a stand, and in doing so ends up giving the enemy an unexpected gift."<

A classic Sharpe adventure: Richard Sharpe and the Winter Campaign, 1814. The invasion of France is under way, and the British Navy has called upon the services of Major Richard Sharpe. He and a small force of Riflemen are to capture a fortress and secure a landing on the French coast. It is to be one of the most dangerous missions of his career. Through the incompetence of a recklessly ambitious naval commander and the machinations of his old enemy, French spymaster Pierre Ducos, Sharpe finds himself abandoned in the heart of enemy territory, facing overwhelming forces and the very real prospect of defeat. He has no alternative but to trust his fortunes to an American privateer - a man who has no love for the British invaders.<

It is 1814. After a long and exhausting series of battles the British and Spanish armies are pushing into south-western France from Spain. Rumours abound that Napoleon has surrendered, been murdered, or fled. But before the French are finally defeated, and Sharpe can lay down his sword, one of the bloodiest conflicts of the war must be fought: the battle for the city of Toulouse. Sharpe's war is not over with the victory. Accused of stealing a consignment of Napoleon's treasure en route to Elba, Sharpe must elude his captors and track down the unknown enemy who has tried to incriminate him. Accompanied by his comrade, Captain William Frederickson, Major Richard Sharpe pursues with energy, venom and unflinching resolve an ingenious and devastating revenge.<

Richard Sharpe and the Waterloo Campaign, 15 June to 18 June 1815. It is 1815. Sharpe is serving on the personal staff of the inexperienced and incompetent Young Frog, William, Prince of Orange, who has been given command of a large proportion of the Allied force. More concerned with cutting a dash at a grand society ball in Brussels, the Young Frog refuses to listen to Sharpe's scouting reports of an enormous army marching towards them with the lately returned Napoleon at its head. When the Battle of Waterloo commences, Sharpe has to stand by and watch military folly on a grand scale. But at the height of the conflict, just as victory seems impossible, he makes a momentous decision. With his usual skill, courage and determination he takes command and the most hard-fought and bloody battle of his career becomes Sharpe's own magnificent triumph.<

Five years after the Battle of Waterloo, Sharpe's peaceful retirement in Normandy is shattered by a plea for help. An old friend, Don Blas Vivar, is missing in Chile, reported dead at rebel hands - a report his wife refuses to believe. She appeals to Sharpe to find out the truth. So it is that the reluctant Sharpe and his constant companion in adventure, Patrick Harper, find themselves bound for Chile via St Helena, where they have a fateful meeting with the fallen Emperor Napoleon. Sharpe and Harper are convinced that they are on their way to collect a corpse; neither can imagine the dangers that await them in Chile.<

From Booklist

Starred Review Shelter Mountain continues the story introduced in the author's [Virgin River], and introduces Paige, who, after fleeing her battering husband, arrives at Jack's bar in the midst of a downpour with her three-year-old son, Christopher. Preacher, big and scary looking, shows his tender and nurturing side as he and others protect Paige from her drug-crazed husband. Once again, Carr's fully dimensional characters carry the tale. Her heroes are strong, kind, and smart, and the heroines are determined, capable, and intelligent. Happily, Whispering Rock, the third in Carr's wonderful series, will be out in June. Diana Tixier Herald
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

A fierce and unseasonably cold September wind blew chilly rain against the windows. Preacher wiped down the bar, and while it was only seven-thirty, it was already dark. No one in Virgin River would be out on a night like this. After the dinner hour was past, people tended to stay in on cold, wet nights. The campers and fishermen in the area would be locked down tight against the storm. It was bearand-deer hunting season, but it was unlikely any hunters would pass en route to or from lodges and blinds at this hour in such weather. Jack, his partner and the owner of the bar and grill, knowing there would be little if any business, was tucked away with his new wife at their cabin in the woods. Preacher had also sent home their seventeenyear-old helper, Rick. As soon as the fire burned down a little more, Preacher planned to switch off the Open sign and lock the door.

He poured himself a shot of whiskey and took it over to the table nearest the fire, then turned a chair toward the hearth and propped up his feet. Quiet nights like this were to his liking. He was a solitary kind of guy.

But the peace was not to be. Someone pulled on the door, causing him to frown. It opened a little bit. The wind caught the door and it flew open with a bang, bringing him instantly to his feet. Entering and then struggling to close the door was a young woman holding a child. The woman wore a ball cap and had a heavy quilted bag slung over her shoulder. Preacher went to get the door. She turned, looked up at him and they both jumped back in surprise. She was likely startled because Preacher looked intimidating—he was six foot four, bald with bushy black eyebrows, a diamond stud earring and shoulders about as broad as an ax handle was long.

Under the bill of the baseball cap, Preacher saw a pretty young woman's face bearing a bruise on her cheek and a split lower lip.

"I'm! I'm sorry. I saw the sign!."

"Yeah, come on in. I wasn't expecting anyone to be out tonight."

"Are you closing?" she asked, hoisting up her burden, a little boy, not more than three or four years old. He was asleep on her shoulder, his long legs dangling limply. "Because I! Are you closing?"

"Come on," he said, stepping back for her to pass. "It's okay. I don't have anyplace better to go." He extended an arm toward a table. "Sit by the fire there. Warm up. Dry off."

"Thanks," she said meekly. She went to the table by the fire, and when she saw the drink, said, "Is this where you're sitting?"

"Go ahead. Take it," he said. "I was having a shot before calling it a night. But there's no hurry. We don't usually close this early, anyway, but with the rain!"

"Did you want to get home?" she asked him.

He smiled at her. "I live here. Makes me real flexible on the hours."

"If you're sure!"

"I'm sure," he said. "If the weather's decent, we usually stay open till at least nine."

She took the chair facing the fire, the boy's gangly legs straddling her lap. She let her quilted shoulder bag drop to the floor and pulled the child closer, hugging him tight, stroking his back.

Preacher disappeared into the back, leaving her to warm herself for a minute. He came back with a couple of pillows from his bed and the throw from his couch. He put the pillows on the table next to her and said, "Here. Lay the kid down. He's probably heavy."

She looked up at him with eyes that seemed to want to cry. Oh, he hoped she wouldn't do that. He hated when women cried. He had no idea what to do. Jack could handle it. He was chivalrous; he knew exactly what to do with a woman under any circumstance. Preacher was uncomfortable around women until he got to know them. When you got down to it, he was inexperienced. Although it wasn't intentional, he tended to scare women and children simply because of how he looked. But they didn't know that underneath his sometimes grim countenance he was shy.

"Thanks," she said again. She transferred the child to the pillows on the table. He immediately curled into a ball and put a thumb in his mouth. Preacher stood there, lamely holding the throw. She didn't take it from him so he put it over the boy and tucked it around him. He noticed the boy's cheeks were rosy and his lips bright pink.

When she reclaimed her chair, she looked around. She saw the stag's head over the front door and flinched. She turned full circle, noting the bear skin on the wall, the sturgeon over the bar. "Is this some kind of hunting place?" she asked.

"Not really, but a lot of hunters and fishermen pass this way," he said. "My partner shot the bear in self-defense, but he caught the fish on purpose. One of the biggest sturgeons in the river. I got the buck, but I'd rather fish than hunt. I like the quiet." He shrugged. "I'm the cook here. If I kill it, we eat it." "You can eat deer," she said.

"And we did. We had a great winter of venison. Maybe you should have a drink," he said, trying to keep his voice soft and nonthreatening.

"I have to find a place to stay. Where am I, anyway?"

"Virgin River. Kind of out of the way. How'd you find us?"

"I!" She shook her head and a small laugh escaped.

"I got off the highway, looking for a town with a hotel!."

"You got off the highway a while ago."

"There aren't many places wide enough to turn around," she said. "Then I saw this place, your sign. My son!I think he has a fever. We shouldn't drive anymore."

Preacher knew there wasn't anyplace to get a room nearby. This was a woman in trouble; it didn't take a genius to figure that out. "I'll fix you up with something," he said. "But first—you want something to drink? Eat? I've got a good soup tonight. Bean and ham. And bread. I made the bread today. I like to do that when it's cold and rainy. How about a brandy to warm you up first?"

"Brandy?"

"Or whatever you feel like!"

"That would be good. Soup would be good, too. I haven't eaten in hours. Thanks."

"Sit tight."

He went to the bar and poured a Remy into a snifter— fancy stuff for this place. He hardly ever used the snifters on the usual crowd—but he wanted to do something special for the girl. For sure she was down on her luck. He took her the brandy and then went back to the kitchen.

The soup was put away for the night, but he took it out of the refrigerator, ladled out a scoop and put it in the microwave. While it warmed, he took her a napkin and some utensils. By the time he got back to the kitchen, the soup was ready and he got out the bread—some of his best: soft, sweet and hearty—and nuked it for a few seconds. He put that and some butter on a plate. When he came out of the kitchen he saw her struggling out of her jacket, like maybe she was stiff or sore. The sight of it stopped him briefly and made him frown. She threw a look over her shoulder, as if she was caught doing something bad.

Preacher put the food in front of her, his mind spinning. She was maybe five foot five and slight. She wore jeans and her curly brown hair was tucked through the back of the ball cap like a ponytail. She looked like a girl, but he guessed she was at least in her twenties. Maybe she'd been in a car accident, but it was more likely someone had smacked her around. The thought alone got him a little hot inside.

"That looks great," she said, accepting the soup.

He went back behind the bar while she ate. She shoveled the soup in, smeared the bread with butter and ate it ravenously. Halfway through with her meal she gave him a sheepish, almost apologetic smile. It tore through him, that bruised face, split lip. Her hunger.

When she'd sopped up the last of her soup with the last of her bread, he returned to her table. "I'll get you some more."

"No. No, it's okay. I think I'll have some of this brandy now. I sure appreciate it. I'll be on my way in a—"

"Relax," he said, and hoped he didn't sound harsh. It took a while for people to warm up to him. He transferred her dishes to the bar, clearing her place. "There isn't anywhere around here to get a room," he said when he returned to the table. He sat down across from her, leaned toward her. "The roads aren't so good out this way, especially in the rain. Really, you don't want to head back out there. You're kinda stuck."

"Oh, no! Listen, if you'll just tell me the closest place! I have to find something!."

"Take it easy," he said. "I got an extra room. No problem. It's a bad night." Predictably, her eyes widened. "It's okay. It's got a lock." "I didn't mean!"

"It's okay. I'm kind of scary-looking. I know it."

"No. It's just—"

"Don't worry about it. I know how I look. Works great on guys. They back right off." He gave her a small smile, not showing any teeth.

"You don't have to do this," she said. "I have a car!."

"Jesus, I couldn't stand to think of you sleeping in a car!" he said. "Sorry. Sometimes I sound as bad as I look. But no kidding—if the kid's not feeling so good!"

"I can't," she said. "I don't know you!."

"Yeah, I know. Probably makes you wonder, huh? But I'm way safer than I look. You'd be okay here. Better here than at some hotel on the freeway, guaranteed. A whole lot more okay than out in that storm, trying to deal with those mountain roads."

She looked at him hard for a minute. Then she said, "No. I'm just going to press on. If you'll tell me how much—"

"Pretty rough-looking bruise you have there," Preacher said. "Can I get you anything for that lip? I have a first aid kit in the kitchen."

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head. "How about if we settle up and—"

"I don't have anything for a kid's fever. Except a room. With a lock on the door so you feel safe. You don't want to pass up an offer like that in this weather, with a kid who might be coming down with something. I look big and mean, but I'm about as safe as you get. Unless you're wildlife." He grinned at her.

"You don't look mean," she said timidly.

"It can make women a...

Marcus Williams and Francis Ackerman Jr. both have a talent for hurting people. Marcus, a former New York City homicide detective, uses his abilities to protect others, while Ackerman uses his gifts to inflict pain and suffering. When both men become unwilling pawns in a conspiracy that reaches to the highest levels of our government, Marcus finds himself in a deadly game of cat and mouse trapped between a twisted psychopath and a vigilante with seemingly unlimited resources. Aided by a rogue FBI agent and the vigilante's beautiful daughter -a woman with whom he's quickly falling in love- Marcus must expose the deadly political conspiracy and confront his past while hunting down one of the most cunning and ruthless killers in the world.<

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