Contract Bleu: Jacques Barbosa Adventure

M. K. Jacobs
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Jacques Barbosa, now retired from the French Military, takes on more than he bargained for, returning to Ethiopia in search for two rogue militia who have shot his ex-wife, concert pianist Elizabeth Mallory. Recruited by British MI6 boss Sir Braxton Jerret, Barbosa and his partner Hendrik' Dutch' Palese reunite to unearth the secrets within a Malian Ore Mine, only to realise they may have been set up by their own country. Discovering the ore train destined for Senegal has been diverted, the team are assisted by Foreign Legion troops hastily summoned by the French Surete, to squash a rebel army and drive back a rebellion. But what is on the train so precious General Maddox renowned lawbreaker, who has taken over the official government in Mali will risk all to get it back. Contract Bleu is a thrilling adventure of trust and deceit, has Jacques Barbosa and the team been betrayed and if so, will he decide who is lying and who is telling the truth.
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About the author

ABOUT THE AUTHOR M. K. Jacobs grew up in South Australia. Considered an accomplished classical pianist, genealogist, explorer and fanatic cat lover, M K currently lives in country Victoria, sharing the property with two alpacas, a family of cats including one Bengal. In the last ten years with a background in Federal Law enforcement, MK's first series of novels are centred on historical military fiction with a French twist. Her writing has expanded to include MK's Historical Romance Trilogy focusing on her mother's World War II experiences. Contract Bleu is the first in a series of eight Jacques Barbosa Novels. Contract Rouge was released in January 2015 The Road to Tarascon, Book One of the Vera Lawson Trilogy. The Road to Saint Brieuc, Book Two of the Vera Lawson Trilogy. Historical Romance set in England and France during the Second World War. The Claire Lane Mystery Murder Series.
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Additional Information

Publisher
M. K. Jacobs
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Published on
Jul 13, 2014
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Pages
398
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ISBN
9781500365905
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Language
English
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Genres
Fiction / Action & Adventure
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Content Protection
This content is DRM protected.
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The extinction of humanity approaches…

Out of the jungles of South American stumbled an infected priest. 10 years later the zombie infection has seeped out of the shadows and gutters and has spread across the globe. Governments crumble as they decide who should live and who must die.

Out of this pre-apocalyptic world emerges Donavan Leeds, an ordinary man who dreams of becoming a Samurai. Paralyzed by loneliness after he is mysteriously abandoned by everyone he loves, Van wakes one warm night to find a figure holding a sword at the foot of his bed. Obligated by a profound debt, Van hires out his samurai sword and a river of zombie blood follows. To a desperate world, Van becomes a folk hero; to the secretly infected, he is ‘the beginning of a war’.

As humanity’s darkest forces gather on one side and the incurably diseased gather on the other, civilization is on the brink of its bloodiest war. And Van, blinded by love and a secret that could change the course of mankind, must decide who to kill to prevent the zombie apocalypse.

* This new twist on the zombie mythology is rated ‘WTF’ for its strong language, sexual situations and irreverent humor.

60,000 words.

sex, multiple orgasm, apocalypse, sword, men's fiction

Smashwords:
An infected priest stumbles out of the jungles of South American and 10 years later the zombie infection has spread across the globe. Out of this pre-apocalyptic world emerges Donavan Leeds, an ordinary man who dreams of becoming a Samurai. Van hires out his samurai sword and a river of zombie blood follows. Blinded by love, Van must decide who to kill to prevent the zombie apocalypse.

Excerpt:
Chapter 1
Sex and Zombies

“So I’m walking down West Silverlake Drive because like usual I have to park a fuckin’ mile from my place. I look across to that park on the corner and I see these fuckin’ tweaker kids chasing after this zombie bitch. And you would think the bitch is doing that zombie stroll they do, but she’s bookin’ it. And these kids are like 15 or 16 and you gotta think that they’re meth’d out, so when the zombie bitch gets ahead of ’em, you would think she’s free. But just as the bitch looks like she’s gonna get away, another tweaker pops out of nowhere and she has to change direction.

So I’m watching this shit go down and she starts running next to the street. And I’m 300 feet away so I’m like ‘This shit is real,’ ya know. And just when the guys are about to tackle her, this fuckin’ bitch cuts out into the street and this fuckin’ Ram, fuckin’ Dodge 4x4 truck smacks the hell out of her. And this fuckin’ bitch rolls across the hood of the truck and flies like 200 feet in the air.
And I’m standing there and I’m like ‘What the fuck,’ because this bitch is headed right for me and I don’t know if I should move left or right. But in the end I’m just frozen there and the fuckin’ bitch lands right on top of me and knocks my ass to the ground. And I’m like ‘What the fuck? What the fuck!’

And I’m looking right at her and she has an oozing wound on her forehead. And her face is all sunken in. And she’s all pale with those fuckin’ zombie dark circles under her eyes and she’s drooling. And I’m screaming, ‘Get the fuck off me! Get the fuck off of me!’
And I’m all shaking and squirming because this bitch is right on top of me. I mean her fuckin’ cooch is sitting on my nads, ya know. And I’m like ‘Get the fuck off me.’ And she’s like ‘Ahhh.’ I’m like ‘Ahhh!’ And she’s all squirmin’ and stuff.

But I finally push her off me and I get up to my feet. I look down at her - she looks fine by the way, because you know how these fuckin’ zombies are indestructible, right? - and I get right over her, look down and scream ‘What the fuck, bitch!’ And she looks up at me, smiles, points and says ‘Donavan.’

And I’m like ‘How does this fuckin’ zombie bitch know my name?’ So I scream at her ‘How the fuck you know my name, bitch?’ And she laughs and mumbles out ‘Bar Bar bathroom,’ and then laughs some more.
And just then I look up and this 16 year old tweaked-out mother fucker pulls back this fuckin’ axe and cuts the bitch’s fuckin’ head off. That fuckin’ head rolled like 20 feet. So I ran into the fuckin’ street and got down over the head and yelled again ‘How the fuck do you know my name, bitch?’ But the thing is finally fuckin’ dead and it still has a smile on its fuckin’ face.

So I check myself out for scratches and bite marks and I’m fine. And instead of goin’ home, I now walk my ass back to the fuckin’ car and drive my ass down to Bar Bar because I know this fuckin’ place. This is where me and my two boys used to trail for tail. And when I get there it isn’t fuckin’ open yet because it’s one of these places that don’t even open til, like, nine. But I know the manager so I get in.
I’m like ‘What up,’he’s like ‘What up,’ and tell him about this fuckin’ zombie bitch and he starts to smile. But it’s not one of those ‘ha ha’ smiles. It’s one of those ‘I know something that you fuckin’ don’t’ smiles. And the fucka couldn’t even look me in the eye after that. But he says go ahead and I check out the men’s bathroom. After I couldn’t find anything I realize that the zombie bitch probably meant the woman’s bathroom.

So I go in and I look in the first stall and on the wall is this fuckin’ picture of me carved in the paint. And this is some fuckin’ Rembrandt shit because this fuckin’ thing looks exactly like me. Like, if I could take this home, I would hang it on my fuckin’ wall because it is like a fuckin’ picture. And underneath this fuckin’ picture are the words ‘For a really bad time in bed call…’ and it’s my fuckin’ phone number. Do you believe that shit?

So I scratch out ‘bad’ and put ‘mind-blowing’ and I leave with this shit stuck in my head. Do you believe that shit? Some bitch put that shit in the bathroom at my spot. But I start thinkin’ about this and the more I think about it, the more this shit is fuckin’ with my head. So I start to doubt myself. Because that is a whole lot of hate that it takes to sit in that fuckin’ stall for hours and carve that fuckin’ picture in paint. That fuck even shaded it in. I’m tellin’ you, fuckin’ Rembrandt!

So if that bitch could have so much hate in her to sit and do that, she must have been seriously pissed off at something that I did. And that’s not hard to believe because I have worked over some bitches in my day. But I started thinkin’, ‘I’m good in bed, right? Yeah I’m good in bed…’

But it plays on your head when you see shit like that. So I asked myself who would know for sure. So that’s why I called you. You had fun when we were doin’ it, right? I mean, it was good right?”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. Van raked his fingers through his dark brown wavy hair. His deeply tanned forehead shined with the sweat that formed on it. And his thick masculine chest twitched as the adrenaline coursed through him.
“Lucy?” Van asked, losing the nerve that the lather from his storytelling had allowed him.

Lucy sat dumbfounded on the other end. Her mouth hung open and her porcelain skin and red hair made her look like a blow up doll.
“Lucy?” Van asked again, wondering if she was still on the line. He pulled back his cell phone to make sure that the call hadn’t ended. “You still there?”

“Ummm… yeah.”

“So, ummm, when we were doin’ it, you had a good time, right?” Van asked again a little more scared at what the answer might be.

Percy was feeling himself until his mobile roller phone rang. hello. Perchy said. Wassam Big dog Donte said from the other end of phone. Tell me something good? Percy reply. Some dudes out the St. Bernard projects got a new dope spot popping and two females out the Lafitte projects got a new set too. Donte told Percy. Is that right? yep that right! I told you, your beef is my beef ya hear me Get it on then you have my blessing Percy told Donte Yeah, them niggas out the Bernard talking about how easy it was to jack a Cuban for 10 bricks Wait, wait, wait a minute. Percy said in a calm, cool but collective voice because he knew never told no one how much dope was missing and now dude saying to much. dont worry, dont worry my man. Percy told Donte before he hang up the phone. Percy leaned over and grab his rolled up 100 dollar bill and sniffed three lines of that dope then took a long swallow from his Hennessey bottle before laying back going into a finer nodded. Perchy didnt give a fuck but long as mother fucker was dying blood being spilled behind something he created, that is all that matter. All the pieces was coming together to do with his sister but he just couldnt put his hands on it. Percy was caught off guard as the F.B.I. surrounded him in the police boat. The two naked Cuban females ran down to the bottom of the boat. Percy leaned up and took another snip of the dope because he knew the feds had to have some on him. The murder of a two year old Cuban girl name Myia, sends blood spills in the streets of New Orleans, leaving every dope dealer with a price to pay. The only plan Donte has is to cover the blood on his own hands. Tonight was on of them night where the homeless people wish they had air condition in their card boad boxes under the bridge in the big easy. Then the humility is very high with dry heat no wind blowing and mosquitoes flying around your head. It be so much dry heat that if you walk one block your clothes will start sticking to your body from the tempter that the humility admits down here in New Orleans ya heard me. But that was the last think on Donte and Omars mind. They was driving down North Causeway Blvd. headed towards Metairie, LA. Man dont let that white Lexus out ya sight. Donte told Omar. They was following Mary home, Percy sister. Donte had her route down pack it couldnt get no sweeter then this ya heard me.
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