Books with author J S Fletcher

Bassett Oliver, the famed actor, has gone missing. When Oliver fails to show for a rehearsal, aspiring playwright Richard Copplestone finds himself sent to the small village of Scarhaven on the northern coast of England to track down the actors movements. What he finds is mystery. What has become of Bassett Oliver? Has he had an accident? Or was it murder? And if so, who killed him? The poacher? The estate manager? The squire? Find the answers as Copplestone unravels the mystery of Scarhaven Keep.This classic book was handcrafted by Resurrected Press. Resurrected Press is dedicated to bringing high quality classic books back to the readers who enjoy them. These are not scanned versions of the originals, but, rather, quality checked and edited books meant to be enjoyed!

Joseph Smith Fletcher was a British journalist and author who wrote more than 230 books, both fiction and non-fiction, and was one of the leading writers of detective fiction. Any profits generated from the sale of this book will go towards the Freeriver Community project, a project designed to promote harmonious community living and well-being in the world. To learn more about the Freeriver project please visit the website - www.freerivercommunity.com

As a rule, Spargo left the Watchman office at two o'clock. The paper had then gone to press. There was nothing for him, recently promoted to a sub-editorship, to do after he had passed the column for which he was responsible; as a matter of fact he could have gone home before the machines began their clatter. But he generally hung about, trifling, until two o'clock came. On this occasion, the morning of the 22nd of June, 1912, he stopped longer than usual, chatting with Hacket, who had charge of the foreign news, and who began telling him about a telegram which had just come through from Durazzo. What Hacket had to tell was interesting: Spargo lingered to hear all about it, and to discuss it.

A secret organization wants to help her. An ancient order wants her dead. And she doesn't even know what she is...Kaylee Richards just blasted her first date with lightning. She has no idea how, but when the creep pulls a sword on her, what’s a girl to do? Turns out Kaylee is a dragon-kin, a half dragon/half human with the rare power to summon storms. The problem? Her newly-discovered magic has attracted the wrong kind of attention: Slayers, a murderous ancient order dedicated to eradicating all dragon-kin. They’re planning something big. Something deadly. And they need Kaylee to do it.A fast-paced young adult urban fantasy with an awesome heroine, full of magic, wizards, and dragon shifters!“This reader cannot wait for the next book in this series to be released!” ~Elissa Rogers ★★★★★“This book is absolutely amazing. I found it hard to put down to sleep or go to work” ~Jennifer, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★“This book was so good. I had a hard time putting it down!” ~Cassie, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★“Read the whole book in one sitting. Can't wait for the next one” ~Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★"Awesome characters. It kept me drawn in from beginning to end!" ~Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

All this led up to the appearance of Mr. Aylmore, M.P., in the witness-box. And Spargo knew and felt that it was that appearance for which the crowded court was waiting. Thanks to his own vivid and realistic specials in the Watchman, everybody there had already become well and thoroughly acquainted with the mass of evidence represented by the nine witnesses who had been in the box before Mr. Aylmore entered it. They were familiar, too, with the facts which Mr. Aylmore had permitted Spargo to print after the interview at the club, which Ronald Breton arranged. Why, then, the extraordinary interest which the Member of Parliament's appearance aroused?

As a rule, Spargo left the Watchman office at two o'clock. The paper had then gone to press. There was nothing for him, recently promoted to a sub-editorship, to do after he had passed the column for which he was responsible; as a matter of fact he could have gone home before the machines began their clatter. But he generally hung about, trifling, until two o'clock came. On this occasion, the morning of the 22nd of June, 1912, he stopped longer than usual, chatting with Hacket, who had charge of the foreign news, and who began telling him about a telegram which had just come through from Durazzo. What Hacket had to tell was interesting: Spargo lingered to hear all about it, and to discuss it. Altogether it was well beyond half-past two when he went out of the office, unconsciously puffing away from him as he reached the threshold the last breath of the atmosphere in which he had spent his midnight. In Fleet Street the air was fresh, almost to sweetness, and the first grey of the coming dawn was breaking faintly around the high silence of St. Paul's.