In this young adult adaptation of the acclaimed bestselling Just Mercy, which the New York Times calls ´´as compelling as To Kill a Mockingbird, and in some ways more so,´´ Bryan Stevenson delves deep into the broken U.S. justice system, detailing from his personal experience his many challenges and efforts as a lawyer and social advocate, especially on behalf of America´s most rejected and marginalized people. In this very personal work--proceeds of which will go to charity--Bryan Stevenson recounts many and varied stories of his work as a lawyer in the U.S. criminal justice system on behalf of those in society who have experienced some type of discrimination and/or have been wrongly accused of a crime and who deserve a powerful advocate and due justice under the law. Through the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI), an organization Stevenson founded as a young lawyer and for which he currently serves as Executive Director, this important work continues. EJI strives to end mass incarceration and excessive punishment in the United States, working to protect basic human rights for the most vulnerable people in American society. ´´A deeply moving collage of true stories . . . .This is required reading.´´ -- Kirkus , Starred Review Praise for Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption : ´´Important and compelling.´´ --Pulitzer Prize-winning author TRACY KIDDER ´´Gripping. . . . What hangs in the balance is nothing less than the soul of a great nation.´´ --DESMOND TUTU, Nobel Peace Prize Laureate ´´An inspiring and powerful story.´´ --#1 New York Times bestselling author JOHN GRISHAM
I was sent here to keep me safe. From horrors I wasn´t supposed to know about. But they didn´t understand the first thing about arriving in a female body with raging hormones and a genius beyond understanding of myself and anyone around us. Of course, they wiped my memory. That didn´t mean I couldn´t figure out that I didn´t belong. Then I met someone that I could almost trust. Not to give me away. Because if anyone really found out who I was - including me - then the universe would literally collapse on itself. Seriously. Not just another teen-angst romance. This was deadly serious. Deadly for everyone, including me. And somehow, he eeemed to actually care... Excerpt: First day of school for that second year of torture. And since we had roughly the same last name, we were assigned seats in order and wound up in the back of the room by each other. And that meant we had to collaborate on class projects. Chemistry. Another yawning class to endure. Until what? Until the day was over. Then we had homework and then we went to sleep and then woke up and started over. A gigantic baby-sitting service to raise their kids to get jobs like they did. And have kids. And let them get raised like us, like our parents were. ´´Some gigantic conspiracy.´´ That guy sitting in the next row over mumbled. ´´What?´´ I asked. ´´Just a way to keep us all amused until we get our scrap of paper saying we did wrote our dots and dashes just so and can go out and now be carbon copies of what they want us to be, good little boys and girls.´´ Clearer this time. A full run-on sentence. ´´Kinda grumpy today?´´ I said. ´´Maybe. But thanks for noticing.´´ He replied. ´´I´m Harriet - but please call me Hari.´´ Introductions were best cut short. ´´Sal - short for Salamon.´´ To the point, but with a smile. ´´Nice to meet someone else who was saddled strangely right out of the gate.´´ I had to smile at this. The guy was colorful. I tended to be reticent, quiet. ´´So what do you think of this lab work we´re assigned?´´ Maybe curious, maybe polite small talk. ´´Sucks. As usual. Teacher does the lecture, makes us do something so we can parrot the answer back. It´s called ´learning.´ Could be worse, I imagine.´´ Now I started to warm to the subject. ´´Yea, well. You´re probably right, could be worse.´´ He slid down into his seat so his shoulders were on the backrest and elbows on the laminated top. ´´Stuff gives me nightmares as it is.´´ ´´Nightmares?´´ I turned to him. This struck a chord. ´´Sure - am I in the right class, do I have the right books, am I dressed like I´m supposed to. What about that cutie in the front row - is she going to ask my something and I won´t know what to say? And then I wake up and see that I still have hours to go before I´m supposed to get up and show up at the circus again.´´ He frowned at remembering. ´´Yeah, I know about that. Except the cutie in the front row. She´s an air head. Don´t worry about her asking you anything. She´s into getting top grades.´´ I frowned on my own. ´´Just another trap to catch you.´´ He gave a wry grin out of the corner of his mouth, half turned toward me. ´´Lots of traps here. But I´m beginning to figure them all out. They might have a pattern.´´ I turned more toward him to see his response... Scroll Up and Get Your Copy Now.
She was different - and could be mankind´s savior, or it´s worst enemy. The third generation born after a freak accident, her kind were shunned by humanity. Because they meant walking death. Until one human showed her compassion. Then her gifts came to view. Her parents and their parents only knew death, could only give death. But they only wanted to be understood. Rochelle was searching. For the one thing that could save all of mankind from itself. To find it, she would have to live among them as one of them, in disguise. As she still could wipe out an entire city through her touch. If she wanted to. But she didn´t know what she was supposed to want. So she came here, to surround herself with strangers. Some her natural enemies, but maybe some friends. It was up to them, for she didn´t really care whether they lived or died. But she knew she needed to find out ´´something´´ and only in these massive crowds was where she could her answer. And what she looked for might even be her own cure... Excerpt: I had just one day. Her trail went to ´Cagga and she´s probably here already. One day to find her and - do what, exactly? I didn´t know. Couldn´t be killed. Only long stretches in isolation seemed to have any effect. One day of isolation, even if I had her in my hands now - that´s just a joke. More like the plan had to be getting a positive ID on her and then re-group with some more resources. But by then she could have moved on. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I found my meds bottle. It rattled with the few doses I had left. A mental note to see if their free clinics would help a visiting law enforcement type. Maybe, maybe not. Next to the wanted posters were some floor-to-ceiling bulletproof glass, tinted with reflection on the outside. I was watching the two-bit hustlers operating right in front of what passed for police in this town. One redhead caught my eye. Kinda strawberry blond in a faded jeans jacket - too large with rolled up sleeves. The three-card hustlers I could figure out. But she looked like she was handing out money to the little kids. Dimes and quarters. They´d come up as a rag-tagged bunch, and bring her rocks. She´d put close her hand over their rock and then make a pass - the rock would be gone from her open hand. But then would close her palm and make another pass - and then hand them a coin. All depended on how big a rock they gave her. But I didn´t see any half-dollars go anywhere. Probably smart. The littlest kids would get rolled for it, and the big kids didn´t deserve it. Funny how only the smallest could approach her. Adults and teens kept a distance from her, making funny faces if they got too close. I could see how the coins for rocks gimmick could be slight-of-hand, but the perimeter trick was something that simply didn´t make sense. Still, it kept her safe. Giving out money was something only politicians could do with any safety - and then never from the street, never in person. At last, the mob of kids got their quarters or dimes and moved along. As well as the people who couldn´t get into her perimeter. Now she stood alone on the sidewalk, a light rain falling. Alone in a crowd of people, But then she turned toward my glass. From her side she couldn´t see me, but the way she was looking, she seemed to know I was standing there looking at her, looking at me. That´s her, I thought. As I moved toward the door, some sidewalk people moved in between us. And by the time I was through their security and outside, she had vanished... - - - - Scroll Up and Get Your Copy Now.
Why I was brought in to solve a mystery of people getting and staying healthy was a bit curious on its own. They were all terminally ill. And in quarantine. Yet one nurse and her student ´´angels of death´´ had been able to reverse this deadly disease that modern ´´medicine´ had created through their own negligence. Most of the big city hospitals had these outbreaks, and had sent their worst cases out to live their lives in suburban hospices - often unknown to those locals. And if their quarantine security failed, an incurable plague could spread and decimate the human population by at least half - to start with. Whoever had hired me wanted to know what those healed people were going to do - for anyone could see a huge litigation potential from being cured. But not if they died. For dead people can´t talk - or sue. At least to stay anonymous, my financiers had to stay off my radar and out of my hair. Or the head nurse would help me find out how they created this mess that she was solving without their help... Excerpt: It wasn´t any real surprise to me that these patients started getting better. But my methods were unorthodox, and had been kept a secret for nearly half a century at this point. I was called in as a last resort by some very insistent, and very connected family of one of the patients. And now he´s fine, but neither I or him or anyone else can talk to anyone outside. Well, I´ve got this detective fellow named Johnson who somehow wangled a way into my over-booked schedule. 30 minutes a day. Uninterrupted. And that´s a miracle all on its own. Typically, we are understaffed. And all volunteer. None of us were expected to ever return from the quarantine. But all their doctors and nurses had gotten ill as well, so they´d asked - no, begged for people to basically suicide in order to help these people live out their last days with some sort of dignity. They got half the number they wanted, which was twice what they actually expected. But they were city folks. Pretty cold and pessimistic. Hard to get a smile out of them. And that was our secret weapon - infectious smiles. Works every time. Because you have to heal from the inside out, not just pile on more drugs and pills. The main trouble was with the quarantine security equipment. The technicians to fix it were also sick. If it failed before we got this outbreak under control, it would roll through all the population of this suburb and those beyond it like no plague before it. And the infected would spread it further, all within a few hours of contacting it. All innocent carriers. What was worst, it left babies alone. The ones that needed help the most. That was why we were here, originally. To solve why the babies weren´t getting sick - and feed them and change them and cuddle them meanwhile. But when the last of the nurses collapsed, we had to break into the worst areas and sacrifice ourselves. Because the walls were all glass, and we could see the entire ward from the maternity section. Damned if we were just going to stand there and watch them all die...
Hunted by evil, her only escape was to find the light, but her broken wings couldn´t carry her to safety. Why this tiny, suffering pixie was hunted by a monster troll seemed to be a simple urge - he needed to feed off her energy to keep living. Only a few hours to daylight, when the troll had to sleep to avoid the burning rays of sunlight, or being found by Truth-Seekers and forever imprisoned in stone. After the sun rose, she could heal herself by bathing in sunlight and escape forever. But why was this troll out of his territory and why was he hunting her? Not just his hunger, that much was certain. The hungry troll could smell her, was close. And both were frantic to survive.The troll needed food, but she had a secret message to deliver. And that one message could prevent humans as well as fairies from being enslaved to troll masters after losing the coming war... Excerpt: Lori the pixie ran through the forest, because her wings wouldn´t carry her anymore. They were broken, useless until they healed. Broken by Glum-Dun the troll, who continued to hunt her trail. It wasn´t her size that mattered, it was how good she tasted, the power within her. That´s what he fed on. Sheer power. Trolls wanted power, control. And they were bullies in their own world. If he could make a fast snack of her, he´d get her power in one gulp. Here, away from other High forces, the fairy was in his element. He knew these dark forests and woods. All her folk were in the glades, the clearings, what humans called pastures. Where the sun shone through. Eventually, without sunlight, pixies simply fade away to nothing. Forever. Already she was starting to fade. Too long away from her kind. Too long running and hiding. At least now it was becoming light. Trolls hated light and would themselves hide as tree trunks or dead trees, fallen to the ground or maybe still standing. Light burned their skin and blinded them. Lori could travel during the night, but she was tired. So very tired. All last night´s running had taken its toll on her. She could hardly keep her eyes open. Even with this coming daylight. For the moment, she had found a hollow tree that was still very alive on the outside. Within it, she climbed up to where a hollow limb had fallen away. There, she could see out and secret her self away from the world of trolls and dangers. If she made no sound, gave no sign, the troll could not smell her as well. Especially in this walnut tree. The reek of walnut made a troll´s nose sneeze. Allergies. And so this tree covered her smell that way. Sure, one sweep of his blade could bring this hollow tree down, shattering worse than a high wind. And often these storms were only cover for trolls and their destruction. But all that energy trolls used to dance and smash through the trees during the storm took its own toll. They would be tired, need to eat. Trolls ate spirits. That´s why trolls wanted pixies. Lori knew the stories of old. How Darkness was separated from Light. How they shared the worlds of humans and animals, living plants and sleeping rock. Lori felt faint, so faint. And the thumping whumps of Glum-Dun´s massive feet and his dull ax striking trees to scare her, all just kept her awake, kept her hidden away from him. But it also meant she was deep in this hollow tree, out of the light, out of the one source of healing power she needed. Just a little while until daybreak. If she still had enough energy to move by then, she might survive.
Fighting off a rampaging troll in the woods just to rescue her milk cow wasn´t the first thing on her list today. Neither was finding a male wood nymph who needed her help. What didn´t help was his attitude of being ´´Nature´s gift to women´´, but his broken leg meant he was going to perish out there when the next troll came along. Come to think of it, maybe that troll was after him , and not her Bessie-cow? Regardless, she just couldn´t leave him out there. And in spite of his attitude, he was kind of cute, pointy ears and all. If only she didn´t have to now fend off her farm from other very real fairy-tale creatures, like goblins and witches, and of course, more trolls... Excerpt: She was running toward me, just as I hoped for. Of course, I couldn´t move to get out of her way, not with that busted leg the troll had just given me. And I don´t know if she could see him like I could, but that troll was right behind her - and gaining. So I did the only thing I could - I made her trip. And she landed right next to me, in the soft ferns and leaves. Not that it helped her landing too much. She groaned at her landing, then rolled over to get back to her feet. That´s when she saw me. Laying there. Eye to eye with her. Of course I was only three foot tall and had pointed ears, so it was a bit of a shock. I put my finger on her lips and pointed over her shoulder. There was the troll. All nine ugly feet of him, carrying a huge stick made out of a tree stump root ball. He´d beaten most of the dirt out of it, as well as most of the roots that stuck out. But it was scary nonetheless. He seemed to have lost where she went. But right as I thought that, he sniffed the air and turned in our direction. And saw us both. Then Mr. Troll started stalking toward us, an evil grin on his face. My only move was a desperate one. I grabbed her hand and pointed it to the troll. Nothing happened at first, but then the troll appeared to slow down, and just as slowly, he got perplexed about why he couldn´t move at his normal speed. ´´Thought so.´´ I said to this human. ´´You´ve got talents you didn´t even suspect. Here - this might seem strange to you, but imagine that troll as a cloud of smoke.´´ But nothing happened. He was still moving toward us like a glacier, but still would be here sooner than we could get out of his way. ´´OK, try not to think of a pink elephant.´´ And poof, the troll now had big pink floppy ears and a long pink nose. But he still held that huge stick in his hand, still moving slowly toward us. ´´Now - think of him as a cloud of smoke.´´ And the troll was just a cloud. The stick also disappeared. ´´Next, make the wind disperse him into the clouds.´´ And a gust of wind dissipated that cloud into nothing. At that, she looked back at me - and fainted. But I looked her over and saw she looked just fine. A very cute fine. Of course, I still had a broken leg and now had a fainted-but-gorgeous human woman next to me. Still, things could be worse. The troll was gone anyhow. But he was only the beginning, an advanced scout. This lady´s life had just taken an unexpected turn. And I was probably her only hope of living through it... - - - - Scroll Up and Get Your Copy Now.
The ´Brat´s Cream Lactation Bundle 3´ includes books 17 to 24 of the naughty breast-feeding series that sees alpha males milk their brat counterparts in sinful fashion. This collection will leave you dripping, just like the udders of these bountiful beauties. Stories include : ´Milked By Two Men,´ ´A Squirt of Milk in His Mouth,´ ´His Milking Subject,´ ´She Catches Him Milking Me,´ ´Milk Swap,´ ´The Rough Lactation,´ ´Milk My Big Chest, Mister´ & ´Milked By My British Boss.´