Bad Boy: Sometimes It Takes a Bad Boy To Do Good

Fiction & Literature, Action Suspense
Cover of the book Bad Boy: Sometimes It Takes a Bad Boy To Do Good by Mike Whitworth, Mike Whitworth
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Author: Mike Whitworth ISBN: 9780463100820
Publisher: Mike Whitworth Publication: December 27, 2018
Imprint: Smashwords Edition Language: English
Author: Mike Whitworth
ISBN: 9780463100820
Publisher: Mike Whitworth
Publication: December 27, 2018
Imprint: Smashwords Edition
Language: English

Orphaned thirteen-year-old Sam is alone after a huge earthquake flattens Memphis, Tennessee. A critically-ill, six-year-old girl pleads with him to take her and her cat to safety. It is not a responsibility Sam welcomes.

Excerpt

In due course, which is French for a long frigging time, they loaded us onto big helicopters. I made sure to get a seat as close to the open door as possible, right next to the Marine. As soon as we were in the air, I shouted at the Marine. "Hey, Dude. Cut me loose, will Ya. Where can I go now?"
The Marine shrugged, pulled out a wicked-long blade and cut me loose. I thought his knife was so ace I forgot to watch through the door. But then I got my wits, well maybe wit singular, about me and looked out the open door. Ms. Bitch often said I was a member of the forty-watt club. Right now, I figured she might be right. I hoped the pilot kept it low.
After what seemed like forever, there it was--a shiny lake. Soon we were flying right over it.
I jumped.

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Orphaned thirteen-year-old Sam is alone after a huge earthquake flattens Memphis, Tennessee. A critically-ill, six-year-old girl pleads with him to take her and her cat to safety. It is not a responsibility Sam welcomes.

Excerpt

In due course, which is French for a long frigging time, they loaded us onto big helicopters. I made sure to get a seat as close to the open door as possible, right next to the Marine. As soon as we were in the air, I shouted at the Marine. "Hey, Dude. Cut me loose, will Ya. Where can I go now?"
The Marine shrugged, pulled out a wicked-long blade and cut me loose. I thought his knife was so ace I forgot to watch through the door. But then I got my wits, well maybe wit singular, about me and looked out the open door. Ms. Bitch often said I was a member of the forty-watt club. Right now, I figured she might be right. I hoped the pilot kept it low.
After what seemed like forever, there it was--a shiny lake. Soon we were flying right over it.
I jumped.

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