Friday, November 18, 2016

Friday's Film Adaption: The Professionals by Frank O'Rourke

Five against two hundred, They rode the trail to a showdown with death...

**Originally published as A Mule for the Marquesa in 1964 but after the film was released, new editions were issued with the movie title The Professionals**

A corrupt rancher hires four soldiers of fortune to rescue his wife from kidnappers.

Release Date: November 2, 1966
Release Time: 117 minures

Burt Lancaster - Bill Dolworth
Lee Marvin - Henry 'Rico' Fardan
Claudia Cardinale - Mrs. Maria Grant
Robert Ryan - Hans Ehrengard
Woody Strode - Jake Sharp
Jack Palance - Jesus Raza
Ralph Bellamy - Joe Grant
Joe De Santis - Ortega
Rafael Bertrand - Fierro
Jorge Martínez de Hoyos - Goatkeeper
Marie Gomez - Chiquita
José Chávez - Revolutionary
Carlos Romero - Revolutionary
Vaughn Taylor - Money-Delivering Banker

1967 Academy Awards
Best Director - Richard Brooks - Nominated
Best Writing(Adapted Screenplay) - Richard Brooks - Nominated
Best Cinematography - Conrad Hall - Nominated

J.W. Grant(Ralph Bellamy): You bastard.
Rico(Lee Marvin): Yes sir. In my case an accident of birth. But you, you're a self-made man.

Author Bio:
Frank O'Rourke was an American writer known for western and mystery novels and sports fiction. O'Rourke wrote more than 60 novels and numerous magazine articles.

Born in Denver, Colorado he attended Kemper Military School. A talented amateur baseball player, he considered trying out for a professional team, but was called up for service in World War II. At the end of the war he decided to become a writer.

Several of O'Rourke's novels were filmed, The Bravados (1958) was the first, and his novel A Mule for the Marquesa was made into a popular movie called The Professionals (1966).

Later in life, O'Rourke turned to writing children's literature. He committed suicide on April 27, 1989.



Cover Reveal: Brooklyn Blues by RE Hargrave

Title: Brooklyn Blues
Author: RE Hargrave
Genre: BDSM Erotica Short Story
Expected Release Date: December 1, 2016

**99cents Through December 1, 2016**
By day, Brooklyn Crenshaw goes to work and does her job. She doesn't make waves, simply follows orders and stays off the radar. Oh, and she might have a crush on WILLIAM K. BAXTER from across the hall. Each time she passes his office—with his polished name plate on the window—her gut clenches with desire at the sight of him. But he never looks up, can't possibly know who she is, and even if he did, her needs would send him running. Because they always ran.

At night, in private, she turns on her laptop so that her Sir can turn her on. Brooklyn’s never seen His face, but she knows His voice and the magic of His words. The arrangement works for her. Mostly.

As the office holiday party approaches, Brooklyn starts receiving Secret Santa gifts which suggest more than casual interest, Sir reveals his fondness for exhibition and voyeurism, and WILLIAM K. BAXTER finally looks up at her, and waves.

Brooklyn begins to question everything. Does she continue to follow the orders of a man who hides behind technology, but is always there, or does she take a chance on the man right in front of her who’s seen her at long last? Then there is the Secret Santa who seems to know what makes Brooklyn tick. So many decisions.

‘Tis the season… to be kinky.

Pacing a small path in her living room carpet, Brooklyn debated the merits of letting Him know about the package she’d gotten. Thankfully she’d brought it home before opening it. Inside had been a pair of shiny red Ben Wa balls and a note:

Because you give me balls of blue, here’s a Christmas set just for you.

Rereading it yet again, Brooklyn thought back to how she’d gotten to the point where it even mattered if she shared this secret with a man she only knew online. Her Sir.

When she’d first started working at Hinkmans, she’d accepted some of the offers in the breakroom to ‘grab a drink’ on a Friday. From men and women. Brooklyn had found the girl’s nights always filled with catty office gossip, and the ‘dates’ made her skin crawl, or vice versa. There’d been one date who’d had promise. They’d made it to a heated make-out session on the guy’s couch, but that went belly up when she’d pulled Tim’s tie off and put it over her eyes then asked him to spank her.

He’d called her a freak and told her to get out, that he wasn’t getting tricked into some kind of office place abuse scandal. Idiot. It was sad how misunderstood her desires were in the mainstream world.

Tired of the slimy propositions, and having given up hope the handsome guy across the hall she was interested in would approach her, she switched to playing the fraternization card to get out of accepting any offers. They’d still ask on occasion, but none of them felt right to her—and it was easy to remember the raw pain of Tim’s reaction.

She’d wanted something more.

Brooklyn just hadn’t known what until that fateful auto fill slip at work had opened her eyes. Half a year later Brooklyn no longer bothered with the chat rooms or the fetish sites. Though she’d dabbled with a couple of other Doms in the beginning, it was WillUBelong2Me who always got her blood pumping and pussy squirting. Granted, it was by her hand, but it was at His command, and as such, had earned her loyalty.

Brooklyn removed her shift and sat down at her laptop, bare as He liked her, then put through a call to his Skype. Their initial greetings done, she confessed the gift.

“Sir, I received a present today.”

“Of course you did, bunny. I let you orgasm at work.”

Brooklyn could hear the humor in his tone and smiled. One day she hoped he would turn the camera on so she could put a face to the voice. She had turned the camera on for him, after all. Though, to his point, he wanted to meet her for real and she kept refusing that. He was playing a game of wills with her, which she was letting him win.

“Thank you for that again, Sir. However, that wasn’t what I was referring to.”

“Oh? Do explain then.”

“When I returned from completing your… task,” she coughed, “there was a small package on my desk. Red, with a blue bow.”

Author Bio:
Domestic engineer. Author. Burgeoning editor. And quite possibly certifiable. Believing every story can shine bright with a bit of tenacious tough love, R.E. Hargrave is thorough and to the point. An international bestselling author, she takes storytelling and manuscript polishing seriously, working with her authors and on her own creations to ensure they come to life, crawling from the pages and into the reader’s souls.

Hargrave lives on the outskirts of Dallas, TX and is married to her high school sweetheart; together they are raising three children. A native 'mutt,' she has lived in New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Alabama, Texas, and California. She is fond of setting her stories—which range from the sweet to the paranormal, to the erotic and horrific—on location in South Carolina and Texas.


**99cents Through December 1, 2016**

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Measure for Measure by EM Denning

Title: Measure for Measure
Author: EM Denning
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: November 13, 2016
Millicent Hughes—Millie—is an author on the brink success. As a former foster child, her past wasn’t a bed of roses, making her current success even sweeter. But despite her skyrocketing career, she knows something is missing: him.

When her best friend is killed and she’s attacked by what police believe is an obsessed fan, her life is thrown into turmoil. Even her publisher comes under scrutiny. Can her former foster brothers keep her safe or will they have to take drastic measures to catch a killer?

The footsteps in the hallway meant one thing.

She was here.

I’d pictured this moment a million times. Everything was perfect for her. Candles. Flower petals. The atmosphere was perfect. Today was the first day of my happy ending. I was supposed to have that before, but Rachel took everything. Millie will give it all back. My one regret about today was that I had to come here straight from work to get everything set up in time. I wanted to look nice for her, to have a chance to shower and clean up. But we could also do that after.

I smoothed my shirt as her key scraped in the lock. I checked my breath. My watch. She was early, but only by a few minutes. I grabbed a long stemmed rose in one hand and the bottle of wine in the other. I heard her relock the front door and start down the hallway.

I waited for her to come into her room, but I heard the guest bedroom open and close instead. Slightly irritated, I exhaled and then squared my shoulders. I couldn’t wait anymore. I had to go to her. My skin tingled with anticipation. I’d waited so long for this moment that even one more minute felt like torture.

I crept down the hallway and opened the guest bedroom.

“Surprise!” A female voice called when I opened the door. She jumped out from around the corner. Her black ponytail swung behind her.

“You’re not Millie.” I said, instantly angry. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not today. This intruder was going to ruin everything.

The smile on the woman’s face quickly faded. “Neither are you?” She took a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise Millie on her big day.” I took a step toward her. I had to try and convince her that this was not a good night for company. “Well, I’m her boyfriend actually. I had sort of a special evening planned for us. What are you doing here?” She wasn’t supposed to be here. She didn’t even live here.

The woman frowned. “Millie doesn’t have a boyfriend, and if she did, she would have told me.” She pulled a phone out of her back pocket. “So I’m going to give you one more chance to tell me what you’re doing here, or I’m calling her.”

“That’s really not necessary. I promise.” I smiled at her.

The woman arched an eyebrow at me. “How’d you get in?”

“I had the superintendent let me in so I could surprise Millie. Her big signing was today and I thought we could celebrate after.”

“People don’t just let themselves into other people’s houses. That’s creepy as fuck.”

I felt my smile fade. This woman was going to be a problem. That was unfortunate. Usually women weren’t a problem for me at all. “You let yourself in.”

“That’s different. I’m her sister.”

“Then you know how important today is for her. I want to help her celebrate. I’ve made everything special for her.”

The woman’s eyebrows slammed down and her face twisted in disbelief and confusion. “I don’t think so.” She said as she started to dial.

I didn’t think. My arm swung and the wine bottle met the side of her head with a sickening thud. The phone clattered against the floor as crumpled into a heap.

I checked the phone. She never got a chance to dial.

The heap of girl on the floor moaned.

Adrenaline surged through me. This bitch. This bitch ruined everything. Time was ticking. I had to get rid of her. I hovered over the woman and as she started to stir I brought the wine bottle down against the back of her head again. And again. When the bottle struck a third time, bones crunched. When the bottle struck a fourth it came back bloody. When it struck a fifth time, she stopped breathing.

I stood up. My entire body shook as I stared down at the corpse on the floor. I’d killed people before, that wasn’t new to me. But never like this. Never with my bare hands. Never before had a death been so personal, or satisfying.

But I didn’t have time to dwell on this new development. I had a body to dispose of.

I washed the wine bottle off in the bathroom sink—why waste perfectly good wine? Millie and I could drink it after I took care of this small inconvenience.

I eyed the corpse and gave it a little kick with my foot. Idiot bitch. She ruined everything. I heard the door open. Keys clattered on the counter. A cork popped. Then she started down the hallway.

Shit. I put the wine bottle down on the bed and listened at the door. Keys clattered on the counter. A cork popped. She walked down the hallway and into her room. I couldn’t breathe as I listened for her reaction.

Something hit the floor, then a moment later I heard her yelp. It sounded as if she hit the floor too.

Shit. No. She was scared. She wasn’t supposed to be scared.

Everything was falling apart.

I heard her race for the door. I had to stop her.

I ran after her. Too overcome with desperation to speak. I grabbed her arm as she reached for the door. An elbow flew back and caught me in the stomach right under the ribcage. My breath rushed out of me and she shook my grip and vanished into the hallway.

I grabbed her keys and cellphone off the counter on impulse and shoved them in my pocket. They might come in handy later. I didn’t run after her.

I’d get her later.

I already had a new plan.

Author Bio:
E. M. Denning is a writer from British Columbia. She loves her family and her animals and anything cute and fuzzy. She was born a hopeless romantic and when she’s not writing romance, she’s probably reading it. She loves love.


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