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The Conscripted Man
The Conscripted Man
The Conscripted Man
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The Conscripted Man

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After trying on an authentic WW2 paratrooper's uniform--a present bought for his granddad, who's a war veteran--Christian Smith soon finds himself following in the old man's footsteps ... but for real! He's somehow transported back to Holland, 1944, hours before the start of Operation Market Garden.

But that's not all. Christian has a book in his rucksack--a book his granddad lent him: The Memoirs of Field Marshal Montgomery. And once ol' Monty gets his hands on that, you can be sure he's going to rewrite history, any way he can...

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 2, 2017
ISBN9781370706952
The Conscripted Man
Author

Robert Appleton

Robert Appleton is a British science fiction and adventure author who specializes in tales of survival in far-flung locations. Many of his sci-fi books share the same universe as his popular Alien Safari series, though tend to feature standalone storylines. His rebellious characters range from an orphaned grifter on Mars to a lone woman gate-crashing the war in her biotech suit. His sci-fi readers regularly earn enough frequent flyer miles to qualify for a cross-galaxy voyage of their choosing. His publishers include Harlequin Carina Press, and he also ghost-writes novels in other genres. In his free time he hikes, plays soccer, and kayaks whenever he can. The night sky is his inspiration.He has won awards for both fiction and book cover design.

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    Book preview

    The Conscripted Man - Robert Appleton

    THE CONSCRIPTED MAN

    A Novella from The Little Shop of Wonders

    By Robert Appleton

    Copyright @ Robert Appleton 2016

    Smashwords Edition

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

    This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    * * * *

    I loved the old Twilight Zone episodes and the best description I have for this book is that it is similar to those tales. If you are a fan of these kind of offbeat, unusual but intriguing stories then you will enjoy the Esther May Morrow tales. -- The Romance Studio

    Once you open the cover, you won't be able to turn pages fast enough to read through this exciting collection of short stories, all involving the mysterious Esther May Morrow. Mr. Appleton writes with such description and reality, you'll be swept into each chapter and experience the story along with the characters. If you learn anything from his creative genius, it's... be careful what you wish for. -- The Examiner

    This first collection in [Appleton]'s short story cycle pulls the reader in easily, incorporating the character of Esther as a background fixture with enormous impact. Each story is both unique and complete yet allows Esther to appear in subsequent tales with ease. This reviewer looks forward to reading more about this intriguing character. -- Bitten by Books

    Now available: The Little Shop of Wonders: The Complete Anthology...

    No matter how hard you try, no matter how far you look, you will never find this shop.

    It will find you.

    Dreams, desires, the most outlandish wishes: all are for sale at Esther May Morrow’s timeless antiques and sundries store, for the bargain price of...well, that would be telling. You’ll have to see for yourself. So come on in. Don’t be shy. Make her an offer. She never refuses anyone.

    There’s just one thing I should mention: each purchase comes with an absolute guarantee—no one who leaves her shop will be ever the same again.

    Features nine* irresistible tales of mystery, intrigue and the paranormal:

    CRETACEOUS

    GIN RUMMY

    LOT 62

    SPELLBOUND

    THE CONSCRIPTED MAN

    PHENOMENAL

    MISS OLIVIA

    HAPPY MEAL

    THE TEMPORAL MAN

    *Stories also available separately

    * * *

    The Conscripted Man

    Table of Contents

    Title Page

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    About the Author

    Chapter One

    He was a Prima Donna. Couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag. The well-dressed Welshman’s words slurred as he sat askew on his barstool. Without them Yanks, he’d have been up a creek doin’ the back crawl. Aye, take it from me, Monty was overrated. He wasn’t fit to lick Waterloo off the bottom of Wellington’s Wellingtons. He chuckled either side of a belch, before gulping down another half pint of Stella Artois.

    I’ll agree he wasn’t a messiah or nothin’, added an old gentleman wearing a flat cap to the Welshman’s right, but you have to give it to ol’ Monty—he always came through in a pinch. Can’t deny him that.

    The Welshman scoffed into a cough. Middle-aged, gaunt, prematurely grey, he doubled up until his bushy sideburn tickled the bar, while his gaze didn’t leave the old man in the flat cap. There was clearly something besides phlegm on his chest this afternoon.

    Easy, Jimmy. A tall man sitting to the Welshman’s left, who’d been quiet throughout the conversation, now slapped his friend on the back. Remember…drink in, breathe out…drink in…

    Yeah. Shut it.

    The tall man laughed.

    As I was about to say, the Welshman continued, "he’s got this reputation for never losing a major battle, but if you look at each of them closely…there’s no way he should have lost. There’s not one single great victory anywhere in his whole campaign. He was at best a jumped-up mediocrity. Yet the British people needed a hero, so guess what, Churchill gave them one. Compared to Rommel or…what was his name…George C. Scott, um, Patton, our Monty was nothing but a stuck-up quartermaster with a turtleneck fetish. And you can quote me on that."

    With it only being four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, the Black Dog was half empty. But a thudding of glasses around the pub’s smokey perimeter signalled a concerted unrest, as though the bar were No Man’s Land and the patrons had heard enemy fire through the mist.

    In a quiet corner, Christian Smith nervously rotated a pound coin with his fingertips as he looked on, willing his granddad not to get involved. Kind of like willing a volcano not to spit. Eighty-six, his white-whiskered angular jaw jutting defiantly as though he was twenty-six again, Tom Smith took a quick sip of his lager. Somebody’s speakin’ out of his arse.

    Eager applause broke out.

    That’s your version. Pity it ain’t the truth. The Welshman wiped his mouth.

    A chorus of boos.

    Come back and say that when you’ve done any fightin’ worth a shit. Granddad’s hands, pale and frail and covered with liver spots, shook as he let go of his pint. Otherwise keep it to yourself.

    Despite the sickening invisible anchor rooting him to his chair, Christian half rose to meet the Welshman and his friend as they stormed across to Granddad. Chairs all around the room scraped across the wooden floor, protests rivalled only by the sparking clash of glares between Christian and the obnoxious Welshman.

    Try anything and I’ll kill you. Trembling as he readied his fist, Christian saw nothing but the two thin, sickly-looking figures stalking across the old hardwood floor. What he really wanted to do was grab hold of his granddad and get the hell out.

    The Welshman slapped his palm down on the table, then spluttered a giggle. Don’t get so jumpy, fellas. I get carried away a little is all. He slumped into a chair and pulled out another for his

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