Books with author John Mason Brown

Excerpt:My name is John Brown. How I came to take it, I will explain in due time. When in Slavery, I was called Fed. Why I was so named, I cannot tell. I never knew myself by any other name, nor always by that; for it is common for slaves to answer to any name, as it may suit the humour of the master. I do not know how old I am, but think I may be any age between thirty-five and forty. I fancy I must be about thirty-seven or eight; as nearly as I can guess. I was raised on Betty Moore's estate, in Southampton County, Virginia, about three miles from Jerusalem Court house and the little Nottoway river. My mother belonged to Betty Moore. Her name was Nancy; but she was called Nanny. My father's name was Joe. He was owned by a planter named Benford, who lived at Northampton, in the same State. I believe my father and his family were bred on Benford's plantation.

Daniel Boone opened up the American west; more than 200,000 settlers poured into Kentucky on the Wilderness Road he helped establish. John Mason Brown's classic biography brilliantly depicts Boone's life and times, delving into all the complexities of this fascinating man as well as the landmark historical events he lived through--including the Revolutionary War and Louisiana Purchase.

Mokad’s most deadly sleth killer has arrived. And he’s coming to clean house.Argoth and Shim have only a short season before Mokad comes to annihilate them. If they’re going to survive, they will need to raise an army of dreadmen and fell-maidens and train them in the lore. Argoth sends out a call to Groves throughout the western lands and begins to train Talen, Sugar, and three hundred others. But Mokad isn’t waiting. It’s sent its Guardian—a terrifying sleth killer who quickly infiltrates Shim’s organization. Outnumbered and outmatched, humankind is about to lose its first chance in an age to fight against those who enslave them. Unless, of course, this new Grove can find a way to do what no other has ever done before.

Tough, Brave, and Likely to Die The adventure continues. Ferran and the rest of the crew try to slip away from Pencoy’s lands unnoticed and head for the Blight. Of course it’s madness—five boys, two older men, and a dog driving a herd of cattle through that place. Who knows what twisted evil resides there? Or whether they will make it through alive.But who’s to say the little band will even reach those dark borders when there are rough men on their trail seeking revenge?The drovers have no idea what awaits them. And they’re going to have to pull together if they want to survive.The Drovers is a coming-of-age, epic fantasy series. Fans of Rangers Apprentice, The Brotherband Chronicles, and Percy Jackson will enjoy the action, suspense, and delightful characters.

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She started to turn toward the door, red cane over her arm, when Alphonso grabbed her hand. She turned and looked at him, and then he did something totally unexpected. He turned his chair toward her and patted his lap. “Sit down, lady,” he said softly. Marge looked at him, then at his lap, then, with a delicate move for a large lady, she gently sat on the big man’s lap. He turned her face toward him to kiss her on the lips. First, they heard the tall, adjustable base of the over-priced chair crack loudly. Then they heard the four wheels splay flat out, then they heard their own laughter as they fell on top of each other onto the floor. A loud crash echoed through the big office as four hundred pounds of human beings and the big chair hit the floor. Alphonso laughed a deep, hearty laugh and then turned toward Marge whose sweat shirt had pulled up, showing her bra, and whose face was slowly turning red. Alphonso looked at that face, smiled, turned toward her and gave her a sweet, gentle kiss on the lips. Marge kissed him back. Way to go.

The Editor is conscious that the following Narrative has only its truthfulness to recommend it to favourable consideration. It is nothing more than it purports to be, namely; a plain, unvarnished tale of real Slave-life, conveyed as nearly as possible in the language of the subject of it, and written under his dictation. It would have been easy to fill up the outline of the picture here and there, with dark shadows, and to impart a heightened dramatic colouring to some of the incidents; but he preferred allowing the narrator to speak for himself, and the various events recorded to tell their own tale. He believes few persons will peruse it unmoved; or arise from a perusal of it without feeling an increased abborrence of the inhuman system under which, at this hour, in the United States of America alone, three millions and a half of men, women, and children, are held as "chattels personal," by thirty-seven thousand and fifty-five individuals, many of them professing Ministers of the Gospel, and defenders of "the peculiar institution."

The Editor is conscious that the following Narrative has only its truthfulness to recommend it to favourable consideration. It is nothing more than it purports to be, namely; a plain, unvarnished tale of real Slave-life, conveyed as nearly as possible in the language of the subject of it, and written under his dictation. It would have been easy to fill up the outline of the picture here and there, with dark shadows, and to impart a heightened dramatic colouring to some of the incidents; but he preferred allowing the narrator to speak for himself, and the various events recorded to tell their own tale. He believes few persons will peruse it unmoved; or arise from a perusal of it without feeling an increased abborrence of the inhuman system under which, at this hour, in the United States of America alone, three millions and a half of men, women, and children, are held as "chattels personal," by thirty-seven thousand and fifty-five individuals, many of them professing Ministers of the Gospel, and defenders of "the peculiar institution."