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A Personal War

by Rik London

267 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #05-1707; ISBN 1-4120-6796-0; US$23.50, C$29.38, EUR19.09, £13.23

Vividly written, A Personal War is a dramatic, touching novel that tugs at every emotion. A story of hope, suffering and ultimate tragedy for orphans witnessing the atrocities of war.


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About the Book      About the Author      Excerpts      Catalogue Information

About the Book

Set in the fictional war torn country of Karrall, A Personal War follows the adventures of two volunteers who risk life, limb and sanity to rescue orphans from the battlefield.

Told through the eyes of our main character Rick, himself just a teenage boy, A Personal War gives the reader an insight into the hope that aid brings to war torn nations, reveals the heartache and the personal loss of those caught in the battle, and ultimately brings us the dreadfulness and tragedy of death. Rick, together with his friend Nigel, witness suffering and tragedy first hand as they are given the thankless task of plucking children from between the wreckage and horror that war brings with it. With so much atrocity, Rick also suffers the guilt of survival.

The novel is vivid and dramatically written, taking the reader on a tumbling roller coaster ride of emotions.

This, Rik London’s first novel, took almost 10 years to complete, not because of its complexity but because of the emotional turmoil that his writing brings to the surface. Rik London expects the readers to actually feel that they are truly enveloped in the story. He wants them to be wrapped up and feel like a part of it. With so many books written without any feeling, this one reaches out and touches your very soul. With more novels in the making, Rik London is one to watch out for.

Walking amongst a hail of rockets and frequently dodging the bullets of war, unseen angels tread very lightly.



About the Author

Born in the UK, Rik now resides in Oklahoma and, when he isn’t clicking the keys on a typewriter, he is out on a soccer field as an established youth soccer coach.

Rik has been writing for many years on a wide variety of topics, including his beloved soccer. With a range spanning motorcycling, air travel and community programs to name just a few, he has the ability to adapt his writing style for his targeted audience. At one time, he even found time to write lyrics for friends in a rock band.

Growing up in a harsh inner city background, and now globally travelled, Rik has a broad knowledge base from which to draw his ideas.

This, his first novel, took almost 10 years to complete, not because of its complexity or for lack of time devoted to it, but because of the emotional turmoil that his writing brings to the surface. In the descriptive imagery of his writing, Rik delivers a powerful tale of hope, heartache and ultimately of terrible tragedy. “I cried myself to sleep, more times than I can remember while writing A Personal War, he said. “I know my readers will be moved by it.”

Rik wants the readers to feel that they are truly enveloped in the story and feel as though they are part of it. With so many books written without any feeling, this one reaches out and touches your very soul. With more novels in the making, Rik London is one to watch out for.



Excerpts

The air seemed thick with noise now. The drone of the jet engines reverberated around the valley and echoed around the mountainside. As if joined by a string, the group of aircraft swung northwards; and, as they banked away, the morning sun glinted on their silvery metal backs; and the shimmering, deadly triangle merged into a single shape of white diamond light. I watched as the fire in the targeted building began to catch, and soon black, sooty clouds replaced the red dust in the air. It wasn’t long before the aircraft were screaming towards me across the desert basin, rising for a second run. The city beyond was waiting for the inevitable second wave and seemed to hold its breathe like a rabbit in the headlights of an oncoming car; the victim waited for another blow.

Tanesh was upright in his bed with his legs against his chest, his back and head leaning back against the clay wall. He lifted his head, and his eyes glistened in the way that moonlight does on a still pond. Deep and dark but, oh, so bright. For a moment my heart lifted, a smile swept across my face, elated that the boy had risen. I felt the presence of Nigel and Sultan behind me in the doorway, and then Tanesh spoke in perfect English. “I don’t want to live anymore.” His words hit me like a wave crashes against rocks on the shore. My heart burned in my chest, and I felt sickened in my gut. I watched as he closed his black eyes, placed his head against the wall; and, in a moment, he was gone. Gone.



Catalogue Information




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