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"Linda, dozing in the light of the campfire, jolted awake. She sat up, stretched, willed herself to wakefulness. It was her first duty on watch-she'd insisted on a stint-and she'd dozed. How reliable of her. She peered into the woods, listening, wondering why she'd awoken. The campfire crackled and whispered. A spark popped. She thumbed open the cylinder release of her revolver and counted bullets. The gun looked ancient, like a long-barreled cowboy weapon. As if she would know. She eased the cylinder shut with a click. She settled back again, grateful she hadn't shot anyone. Something rustled in the darkness of the nearby forest. She should be accustomed to this by now. Rainforest nights were deathly quiet in comparison to Boston nights, but that was just the problem. It would take a gunshot or a siren to jar her awake back home, but mere whispers did the trick here. They signaled movement. The jungle was alive, teeming. Jaguars would be about, prowling. The big cats had killed and eaten grown men on occasion. Man-eating jaguars. Nice. No chance of sleep now. Grant slumped in his chair opposite the fire, sound asleep, snoring softly, reassuringly. Not quite enough to set her at ease. The others had gone to bed. He preferred to stay with the watch, a visible, armed backup. What would be more comforting than Indiana Jones sound asleep would be Indiana Jones wide awake. She coughed, gently. Grant slept on. "Grant," she said. No response. "Hey, Grant!" He stirred and rubbed his eyes. "What?" "I didn't say anything." "Hm. Okay." Linda glanced about. "I'm hearing things in the woods. Maybe those sounds woke you." Grant sat up. "What kind of sounds?" He picked up his rifle. "Something moving." They sat in silence for long moments, listening. At last, Grant said, "The alarms haven't tripped. That's a good sign. Anything big would have set them off." He looked at his watch. "Why don't you get some sleep? You've only g

"Linda, dozing in the light of the campfire, jolted awake. She sat up, stretched, willed herself to wakefulness. It was her first duty on watch-she'd insisted on a stint-and she'd dozed. How reliable of her. She peered into the woods, listening, wondering why she'd awoken. The campfire crackled and whispered. A spark popped. She thumbed open the cylinder release of her revolver and counted bullets. The gun looked ancient, like a long-barreled cowboy weapon. As if she would know. She eased the cylinder shut with a click. She settled back again, grateful she hadn't shot anyone. Something rustled in the darkness of the nearby forest. She should be accustomed to this by now. Rainforest nights were deathly quiet in comparison to Boston nights, but that was just the problem. It would take a gunshot or a siren to jar her awake back home, but mere whispers did the trick here. They signaled movement. The jungle was alive, teeming. Jaguars would be about, prowling. The big cats had killed and eaten grown men on occasion. Man-eating jaguars. Nice. No chance of sleep now. Grant slumped in his chair opposite the fire, sound asleep, snoring softly, reassuringly. Not quite enough to set her at ease. The others had gone to bed. He preferred to stay with the watch, a visible, armed backup. What would be more comforting than Indiana Jones sound asleep would be Indiana Jones wide awake. She coughed, gently. Grant slept on. "Grant," she said. No response. "Hey, Grant!" He stirred and rubbed his eyes. "What?" "I didn't say anything." "Hm. Okay." Linda glanced about. "I'm hearing things in the woods. Maybe those sounds woke you." Grant sat up. "What kind of sounds?" He picked up his rifle. "Something moving." They sat in silence for long moments, listening. At last, Grant said, "The alarms haven't tripped. That's a good sign. Anything big would have set them off." He looked at his watch. "Why don't you get some sleep? You've only g

"Stanley Swanson-Breed of a Werewolf" I've lived an extraordinary life to say the least. I started out in journalism and found myself located in Kansas City, KS working for the largest output of the newspaper known as the Kansas City Star. Born in 1974 and currently living in Stull, KS is where I have ended up and have retired at a young age of almost forty years old. I retired because I happen to be paralyzed from the waist down as a drunk person who ran a red light had t-boned me while on my motorcycle on my way home from work. That happened only a few years ago. I am not here to write about my life, but let me introduce myself. My name is Kain Edward. There were many things I wrote about in my time as a journalist, but found the most intriguing to me was that of paranormal existence, sightings, vampires and werewolves. Something I found I could exaggerate in my mind freely and always wanted to believe in them. During my life as a young boy, I loved anything to do with 'mythology' or those creatures that had certain powers. I grew up watching a lot of movies that involved Vampires and Werewolves and I believe that is why I had grown to be so time consumed in the research of such. One thing that always stood out to me was the fact that there never really ever seemed like there was a book or movie that gave great details of 'Werewolves', which would become more fascinating to me as I began to lose a slight interest in Vampires. "Surely there has to be more to Werewolves then just being some hideous beast that kills humans?" I would say to myself many times over. I had to do a lot of traveling and research as one might imagine. I had spoken to so many people from all parts of the world that claimed to have seen such subjects of interest or heard of someone who had. It only grew my interest that much more. Unfortunately, nothing ever turned out as a positive result as I often ran into dead ends. I soon became a laughing stock to co-workers and even

The Harry Potter franchise has its last hurrah on Friday, and fans like me are facing a forcible graduation from the protection of a fictional universe we've always known. I was 7 when Harry began, but I'm 21 now, and it's time to broaden my horizons beyond Hogwarts. But what to pick up first? To me, the perfect post-Potter book isn't an imitator, but rather something entirely different (darker, perhaps, or less padded with childhood optimism) that's laced with threads of familiar territory. Through striking and unexpected lenses, these three books give new life to my favorite foundations of Harry's literary magic.

Another marriage is under attack. Will this one survive? As time goes by Brian and Betty drift further apart, wrongly assuming their Christian values will keep them safe. Based on a true story, the dialogs from this feature film screenplay are a breeze to read as an ebook. The role of the children is not ignored - sometimes adding their own selfishness to the drama - sometimes having to step in and behave like grown-ups. Deliverance comes and people's mindsets change for the better.