Stories That Read You!

Stories That Read YOU Archives...

2011-12-20T17:40:00.000-08:00

Feature Post

Bombs, Love and Babies - My Mom Geneva Bradley
The Most Intelligent of Idiots The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)
____________________________________

Could I ask you to follow my blog?

I would love to have YOU as a follower!

Visit my online Book Store? Go To:

Click Here to Go to
Author Steven Clark Bradley's Book Store

http://www.authorstevenclarkbradley.info/

______________________________________

911 From Those Who Lived Through it...

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

_______________________________________

Four New Trailers from
The Most Intelligent of Idiots Trailer
The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

The Passing of a Giant - The Most Intelligent of idiots -
The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley
(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

________________________________

Don't you want to read books that
speak to the world we live in
and
the one that's coming?

Click Click here and take a look

at some stories that might just read YOU!

Click on the picture to learn more about
The Most Intelligent of Idiot
The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

LIKE US ON FACEBOOK:
The Most Intelligent of idiots - The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley
The Patriot Acts Trilogy
Author Steven Clark Bradley
Steven Clark Bradley

FAN US ON GOODREADS:
Author Steven Clark Bradley on Goodreads

_______________________________

This is a Trap - The Second Republic - Patriot Acts Part II

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

The Most Intelligent of Idiots

The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley
A Stranger Just in Time

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Patriot Acts - Border Insecurity

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

_____________________

Executive Order - Patriot Acts Part III
No One Is Immune!

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Available Now!!! Available Now!!! Available Now!!!

The Second Republic: E-Book version
Get it at: http://www.writewordsinc.com/serepaacvo2...

What would America do if we were faced with a horrendous terrorist attack that no amount of security could stop?

In “The Second Republic – Patriot Acts Part II,” the President of the United States is confronted with a radical underground secret cabal that has targeted America with a domestic bio-terror attack that dwarfs the assault unleashed on September 11, 2001.

This second book in the Patriot Acts trilogy takes the reader inside the White House where treachery and terrorism boils below its underbelly. While trying to avoid invoking emergency powers that could destroy American constitutional freedoms, a former Special Ops officer, now the President of the United States, races to stop a deadly virus, which has killed thousands of innocent Americans.

This Fisher Harrison saga, The Second Republic, is an action thriller that could appear on any of today’s headlines, on any given day with a plausible scenario for the death of humankind that is too frighteningly conceivable for comfort.

When Too Much Security Can Kill You!
Steven Clark Bradley

Click Here To Read An Excerpt From
The Second Republic
______________________

Author Susan Whitfield Interviews with
Author Steven Clark Bradley

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

On President's Day, What Do We Celebrate?

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

My Definition of the the modern

American Presidency

Four lessons For Willow Morgan
- Kassadia's Triumph

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Inclinations Speaks To

The Hidden World Only
Few Have Touched

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Take A Look At "Homeless Like Me"

by Donald James Parker

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

The Temples of Light
by Danielle Rama Hoffman

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Four Lessons For Willow Morgan Part Two
The Preservation Of The Neph

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Four Lessons For Willow Morgan

by Steven Clark Bradley & Selin Alicia Bradley

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Widow's Walk by Ken Weene

A Story That Might make
You Reflect On Your Life

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Flying Dead...
by Steven Clark Bradley

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

End Game - Are They Dismantling America

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Healthcare That Will Make You Sick
Key Facts About Obama's Sick Health Reform

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Obama's White House is Falling Down

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Is Barack Obama Just Another Jimmy Carter?

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

America's Condemner in Chief...

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Book Promo 201 Is A Writer's Required Reading

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Take A Look At The Dancing Valkyrie by Peter Kline

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

'More Deaths Than One' can Only Adequately Be Described As Superb

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Dan Fogelberg - A Retrospective Interview

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Interview with Donna Sundblad Author of
Beyond the Fifth Gate

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Introducing - Retribution by M. Flagg

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

United In Hate by Jamie Glazov
Is A Veritable Treatise on Global Terrorism

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Press Release - Cambridge Books Presents
Patriot Acts by Author, Steven Clark Bradley

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

ISBN-10: 1594316937 ~~~ ISBN-13: 978-1594316937

Watch New Stillborn
Video Book Trailer

Here's A New Book To Check Out
Ni'il - The Awakening

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

So, How Do You Feel, Just Now?

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

So, How Will You Feel Tomorrow?

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

(Click On Image To Enlarge)

Get Your Copy Today At:

Patriot Acts At Mobipocket.com

Introducing Patriot Acts by Steven Clark Bradley

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Revolutions Of Freedom & Terror

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Probable Cause - Tools Of The Trade

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Quality Of Life - Supreme Judgment Part One

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Quality Of Life - Supreme Judgment Part Two

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

America - A Tapestry Of Loose Ends

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Available Now At:
Patriot Acts at Mobipocket.com

Patriot Acts - Border Insecurity

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Stillborn! - Baby's Lost!

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Patriot Acts Prologue - Iran The Root Of Terror

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Is Nimrod Rising...?

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Nimrod Rising Tick Tock Part Two

(Click On Title Above Picture To Read Post)

Nimrod Rising - Tick Tock Part One

Dyan Garris Interviewed By Author Steven Clark Bradley

Steven Clark Bradley"s Exercise Your Freedom Newsletter

Coming Soon - Bloodstone Castle - Coming Soon

Nimrod Rising-Unsought Gifts Part Two

Nimrod Rising - Unsought Gifts Part One

Nimrod Rising Sincere and Dedicated Part Two

Nimrod Rising - Sincere & Dedicated Part One

Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part Two

Nimrod Rising-Legion of Ants Part One

Patriot Acts - Strategic Planning Part Two

Patriot Acts - Strategic Planning Part One

Book Promo 101: Learn the basics of Book Promotion (Paperback)

No Denying It...!

The Last Full Ounce Of Devotion Part One

The Last Full Ounce Of Devotion Part Two

The Last Full Ounce Of Devotion Part Three

New Nimrod Rising Book Review

Steps toward Gomorrah...Part One...

Steps Toward Gomorrah Part Two

And So It All Begins...!

Who Is This man?

From The Mind of Steven Clark Bradley

Controversial Nimrod Rising

Steven Clark Bradley On Writers In Sky Podcast

Nimrod Rising Video Trailers

Nimrod Rising - Politically Speaking

Yvonne Perry Reviews Nimrod Rising

Watch And Learn About Nimrod Rising - In Depth

Stories That read You!

The Characters Who Bring Nimrod Rising To Life

StillBorn - Chapter One

Nimrod Rising - Chapter One How the Mighty Have Fallen

Bombs, Love and Babies - My Mom Geneva Bradley

2011-12-03T20:29:00.000-08:00

Bombs, Love and Babies - My Mom Geneva Bradley - The Most Intelligent of Idiots The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

by Steven Clark Bradley on Friday, December 2, 2011 at 3:10pm

Bombs, Love and Babies

Geneva Wireman never served in the Armed Forces; she went to school tilll the sixth grade and she was the smartest and most clever and determined woman anyone could know. Geneva also did her part to defeat tyranny by working in the most dangerous part of the munitions complex at Kingsbury, Indiana, where the explosives were placed into the bombs. Geneva worked together at the plant with Hazel Winfrey, formerly Hazel Bradley. One night after work, Geneva Wireman went to Hazel Bradley’s home and she saw a photo of a big man with a very handsome and kind face. She asked who he was and after learning that he was her friend Hazel’s brother, Willis, Geneva looked at the photo and my mom blurted out, “I’m going to marry him!”

Geneva Bradley-The Smartest person everywhere she went!

Geneva Wireman, my mother, was born in 1925 and was a very sensitive, strong and determined woman. I cannot think of anything she started that she did not complete. She taught us kids that nothing was worth doing if we couldn’t do it to its completion. She was one of the best guitar players I have ever heard and determined to make sure that her kids had a better life than she had had and had the biggest heart I have ever seen in anyone. She was quite possibly the only person I had ever trusted completely, because of her integrity and her selfless love for her children. I think of her almost every day.

The reason why I have included the Kingsbury Munitions Plant in this adventure is because without that now historic place, I would have never been here to write this story. It was not long after my mother; Geneva Wireman shouted “I am going to marry him,” Hazel set up a blind date for Geneva with her brother and my father, Willis Bradley. I have always known that I have a lot of determination. I have come to realize that I got it honst, as my dad was known to say.

Though it may be hard to believe, it is true; they went out on their first date and were married the same night; only two weeks after my mom declared that she would marry that man in Hazel Winfrey’s photo. My dad went on to work at Studebakers for eighteen years, and my mom became the greatest babysitter in the history of the world.

Now, statistics do bear out that such marriages rarely last. In fact, though it’s a family secret, my mom and dad never realized that we kids knew that my father had already married once before he had ever met my mom. I do not know the woman’s name nor do I know why, but my dad’s first marriage was annulled shortly after they wed. Yet, my mother and father defied the odds, raised five kids and were married for fifty-three years before my dad’s heart disease finally overcame him in 1996.

In Back - From Left to right, Diann Hartz, sister, Gary Bradley, brother, Steven Bradley, brother

Front Row - Joann Bradley, sister, Mark Bradley, brother

My loving and selfless mother spent her last precious days here gathering all of her chicks under her protective wings. Her diabetes had taken its toll and she succumbed and joined my father in October of 2001. We loved them both and have a never ending respect and memories of two people who demonstrated unconditional love and determination to give us a better life than they had had. I remember you both, I love you both and one day, I will join you both as well. Thank you for the bombs, and the love you both showed to your babies.

We Will love you and miss you forever!

Get a copy at:

Amazon

http://www.amazon.com/Most-Intelligent-Idiots-Memoirs-Bradley/dp/1451278888/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpi_5

Barnes and Noble

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-most-intelligent-of-idiots-steven-clark-bradley/1031177068?ean=9781451278880&itm=1&usri=steven%2Bclark%2Bbraldey

Goodreads

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/11547021-the-most-intelligent-of-idiots?utm_medium=api&utm_source=blog_book

Read The Most Intelligent of Idiots - The Love of God in Chandraghona by Steven Clark Bradley

http://undergroundcontroversy.blogspot.com/2010/09/most-intelligent-of-idiots-love-of-god.html

The Consortium - Don't Be Afraid To Fight This War...

2011-10-09T19:01:00.000-07:00

The Consortium finishes the Patriot Acts Trilogy...

In Part One we saw an evil plot between Iran and right-wing radical American Nazis to destroy the nation. In Part II, the plausible scenario of a biological terror attack ruthlessly is hatched by enemies of the state. In Part III of the Patriot Acts series the world banking and global power brokers are explored.

In September, 2008, The Fed and the treasury came to President George W. Bush and issued him a suicide threat. Secretary Henry Paulson walked into the Oval Office and put a gun to his own head and said, $800 Billion or in 24 hours we die and 5 trillion dollars would disappear with the entire world economy. President Bush said yes. What if he had said NO?

Chapter Fifteen

The White House,

Washington, D.C.

March 11, 2012 3:42 p.m.

“I am placing the nation under emergency powers effective upon my signing of this document. The authority of the Emergency Powers Act will not be enforced until tonight, but the temporary powers of the moment do immediately grant the president the power to appoint anyone to vital vacant seats in the Executive Branch. Technically, the speaker has not officially recalled Congress back from recess. I love that word recess; it suits them perfectly.” Fisher chuckled.

Michelle handed Fisher the document and he placed his signature in the appropriate place. Then, Michelle gave President Harrison a second document. Fisher read it out loud.

“By the powers under the State of National Emergency act of 1977, the president has the power to appoint any vital vacant seat and it shall not be automatically removed when and if emergency rule is lifted, and only shall the president’s appointments be removed by resignation, end of life issues or impeachment for high crimes and misdemeanors, as prescribed by law and the Constitution of the United States of America.

“Therefore, I hereby appoint Hamilton W. Smith to be Vice President of the United States.” Fisher signed the appointment letter and looked at Hamilton. Fisher thought he looked excited and terrified at the same time.

“Hamilton Smith, would you raise your right hand?” Fisher asked.

Hamilton raised his hand and slightly pulled it down two times before Fisher recited the words and Hamilton repeated them. Secret Service came to the door and Fisher, Michelle and Vice President Hamilton Smith all walked out of the Oval Office and headed to two different escorted cars which would depart for two different escorted places.

Hamilton’s destination was in hiding in an undisclosed location, while Fisher’s destination was for the whole world to see. Fisher leaned over to speak to Hamilton as they walked down the White House hallway.

“Hamilton, way back in time, at Iron Mountain prison in Alaska, you remember.” They stood in front of two different limousines and Fisher took his new vice president’s hand and congratulated him. “Well, Hamilton, I just wanted to take back some words from way back when I said in a moment of foolish jesting. Because you’re not just a Smith; you are Vice President Smith.”

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 3:52 p.m.

“Approach, I need assistance. This is Captain Ray Jerrod; the coordinates you have sent us do not work. You are taking us into the wall of the mountain.” Jerrod pulled and banked left. Jerrod was a good pilot, and he knew this was not an error. Such errors don’t just happen.

A mountain wall appeared before the pilot and he heaved the yoke back all the way. He feared a stall as he had aimed the nose almost straight upward. Margaret and Nate were strapped in, but both had passed out from forces that neither this plane nor human bodies were built to withstand.

“Control, this is GB1 taking evasive action maneuvers and …”

“We’re gonna make it.” The pilot screamed out and straightened out the airplane. “Get back there and check on them.” The navigator specialist got out of his seat and opened the cockpit door. He saw the First lady slumped over and her baby had started crying.

He quickly walked over and called out her name. “Mrs. Harrison … Mrs. Harrison, are you alright?” Margaret’s eyelids began to move and her eyes blinked and finally, she moaned and cried out,

“Where’s my baby?”

Over Iceland,

the Atlantic Ocean

March 11, 2012 7:55 p.m.

Roger, GB1.” The control officer passed his microphone to a tall man with wavy hair in a nicely knitted suit. “He’s all yours Mr. Berkowitz.”

“Well, Peter, so you are a man of character, whatever that means, but I like you. You’re the other side of me.”

“You lie; I am nothing like you. I breathe air not money and power.” Peter suddenly shouted into Berkowitz’s ear piece, making him wince a bit.

"Well, it lives. I thought you had found Jesus or something and were on your way to paradise. Very well, here goes nothing.”

Berkowitz took a card from his pocket and swiped it and his screen came up. He logged onto the same channel that Peter Barlowe used to control his forces. Then he punched in his personal code and a signal was instantly sent to the pilot of the GB1. As the code streamed it found the command to find the micro-circuit lying dormant in the back of the scalp of one Captain Ray Jerrod, the pilot who was now trying to fly the First Lady and her son to safety. The subject was found and it instantly sent the command to obey Berkowitz’s command. It also registered inside the data crunching computers of Homeland Security, the Pentagon, the NSA and the CIA.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 3:57 p.m.

Pilot Captain Ray Jerrod felt Berkowitz’s commands overtake him slowly. He thought it was air sickness then it was like an instantaneous bout of the stomach flu and then just before he was sure he was going to die, he went calm and felt fine. It was the strangest feeling he had ever had.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

First Lady’s Cabin

March 11, 2012, 3:57 p.m.

“It’s OK honey, we’re OK now,” Margaret told her baby, which she knew was a lie.

“Mrs. Harrison, I want to stay here with you and help, but I have to assist the pilot. Are you OK?”

“Thank you; my son is OK, so I’ll be fine.” Margaret had the greatest urge to scream out for her husband and only let it resonate in her head. Fisher, where are you? Fisher, I love you.

Over Iceland, the Atlantic Ocean

March 11, 2012 7:57 p.m.

Berkowitz spoke to the pilot. “Captain, you are a true patriot, full of everything our money could buy, and that’s a hell of a lot. The problem is, I am not, and I don’t need to be. These are your orders.”

En route to Joint Session of Congress

Washington, D.C.

March 11, 2012 4:05 p.m.

President Fisher Harrison rode in his limousine for the just over a two mile ride between 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW and 100 Constitution Ave NE. He looked out the windows and the two most prominent things he saw were throngs of people with great distress stretched across their faces waving and shouting out well wishes to their a president they trusted. He also saw throngs of soldiers as far as the eye could see. They were all there in battle fatigues and seemingly ready to fight a war or to start one. Of course they all think I ordered them out here.

Fisher saw one man in particular holding up a large sign with the map of the United States prominently displayed with drops of blood dripping down. It read, ‘Is America’s Democracy Bleeding?’Another sign showed a flag shaped into the United States with all the colors running into each other. The words across it read, ‘Why are these colors running?’

They all spoke to him and he knew these fine people loved him, but not as much as they simply needed him, and it gave Fisher great fear and trembling to imagine three hundred million Americans thrown to the dictatorial rule of whatever political charade the Consortium would raise up to hide behind.

Fisher’s motorcade continued on and stress seemed to form all over Fisher’s body, and he felt a trembling inside his arms, hands and legs. He knew it was all far too big for his feeble arms to carry. Fisher waved and didn’t know if the people outside could see him or not, but he caught a glimpse of an old man in a Air Force uniform and holding a sign that was plain and simple, but which bore words that were just like a ray of light in a dark and frozen world to Fisher Harrison. He had needed to read its message before taking on a great nemesis such as the Consortium.

“Driver, I want you to stop the car for a moment. Do you see the big plain sign behind us?”

“Yes, sir, but that against protocol.”

"I realize that, but I need you to ask him, not tell him, but ask him if the president could see him for just a moment.”

The driver radioed to one of the cars behind the president’s to talk with the man. A moment later, a Secret Service agent was standing by the president’s door with the older gentleman. Fisher lowered the window and looked at the sign that told him how to proceed. It gave him hope and told him God had heard his pleas. Fisher read the words. He had heard President Tate use them before. Then Fisher spoke them out loud. “Don’t be afraid to fight this war.”

Fisher looked up at the man standing by Fisher’s window and the old man saw that the president had tears in his eyes. His face had taken on a deep shade of red due to the adrenaline woven together with sorrow.

“Please forgive me for accosting you this way, but your sign touched me so much and it is a direct answer to me from God through you. We need direction, my brother.”

“Mr. President, the honor and privilege is all mine. Would you like to have it, sir? The sign I mean.”

”That’s really generous of you, but it is of much greater value right where you are. Right now, you just might be more powerful than I am, in this awful situation; and isn’t that the way it’s truly supposed to be?”

“Here, let me sign it and that means I will follow your advice, my friend.” Fisher said and placed his signature on the poster.

“I will never forget this day, Mr. President.”

“Please don’t, and remember how your simple message gave a president great resolve. What a truth and stress reliever to know someone is bigger than our feeble abilities to control the deeds and intents of evil men and women.”

Fisher put his arm out the window and shook the elderly man’s hand. “I wish I could get out and thank you appropriately, but these guys might kill me trying to protect me. I will do my best to preserve that you have worked so hard to have and to pass on to your children. Thank you for letting God employ you, sir. ‘Don’t be afraid to fight this war.’ I really love that. Pray for America.”

President Fisher Harrison had no idea how his resolve would soon be placed under maximum danger.

In Route to Raven Rock

Mountain Defense Base

March 11, 2012, 4:12 p.m.

The Navigator Specialist reentered the cockpit and strapped himself in for what he knew would be a rough landing.

“Ray, did they radio you?”

“Yes, they did.”

“And … what’d they tell you?” The navigator looked out ahead and saw the well hidden runway. “Great, Captain, you did it.”

Captain Ray Jarrod looked over at his Navigation Specialist and pulled out his side arm.

Jarrod said the words exactly as he had been instructed. “Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?”

The navigator laughed “Yea Captain …” He looked at the pilot and saw his friend and comrade, Captain Jarrod’s sidearm staring back at him. “Yea I have been told that a few times. What are you doing, Captain?”

“Well, they’ll never tell you that again.” Captain Ray Jarrod squeezed the trigger and unloaded three shots into the navigator’s head. Then, his next orders flashed through his mind.

He switched on the intercom and spoke to the First lady. “Mrs. Harrison, we have the runway in sight...”

Could I ask you to follow my blog?

I would love to have YOU as a follower!

Visit my online Book Store? Go To:
http://www.authorstevenclarkbradley.info/

Click on the picture to learn more about
The Most Intelligent of Idiot
The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

911 From Those Who Lived Through it...

2011-09-10T22:47:00.000-07:00

9/11 Remembered:

The Voices of 9/11

INSIDE 9/11 : ZERO HOUR

Four New Trailers from The Most Intelligent of Idiots Trailer - The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

2011-08-06T08:22:00.000-07:00

The Most Intelligent of Idiots Trailer 1

The Most Intelligent of Idiots Trailer 2

Introducing The World Traveling Author: Steven Clark Bradley

Introducing The World Traveling Author

To Purchase A Copy of The Most Intelligent of Idiots: The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley Please Visit http://storiesthatreadyou.com

There is nothing greater than writing & creating something from nothing. It's the closest thing to the divine! I have lived in many cultures and it has given me a love for the differences amongst us. I am a student of American culture and write about the changes in our society. Take a look at my Novels and find some stories that might just read YOU!

Read An Excerpt from The Most Intelligents of Idiots

The Passing of a Giant

Buy Your Copy at Amazon.com

The Passing of a Giant - The Most Intelligent of idiots - The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

2011-06-21T11:31:00.000-07:00

Willis Bradley, was a man of great humor and deep thought, as with me, his son, there was an ocean of imagination waiting to be tapped. I realized that not so much from his words, but rather from his actions. My patriarchal father was a very fair man. He made tons of mistakes with us kids, and we deserved them all. Yet, my father taught me two very power lessons in my life. He taught me how to say, ‘I’m sorry’ and to forgive even when pardon was not sought. Willis Bradley was the most common great man I have ever known.

Steven Clark Bradley

Knox. Indiana

June, 1997

The Passing of a Giant

I read somewhere once that you know you are not a child anymore when you realize that one day, you are going to die. One of the most wonderful things about childhood is that everything is lived for the future. Children generally never look back and always look forward. They think about the next day off school, the next holiday and the upcoming summer vacation.

I had lived in the rough and tumble world of Middle East Asia and Africa where death was a constant reminder of one’s mortality. So, with death and fighting and war and all that goes along with such societies, death became, for me, something that touched others and left me alone. That make-believe idea that everything would always be good and that those I loved would always be there was shattered on June 16, 1997.

My father, Willis Bradley, was a man of great humor and deep thought, as with me, his son, there was an ocean of imagination waiting to be tapped. I realized that not so much from his words, but rather from his actions. My patriarchal father was a very fair man. He made tons of mistakes with us kids, and we deserved them all. Yet, my father taught me two very power lessons in my life. He taught me how to say, ‘I’m sorry’ and to forgive even when pardon was not sought. Willis Bradley was the most common great man I have ever known.

The only thing that I wish my father had done, in his life, was to share more of what made this serious, jovial, loving, very strong tempered and completely merciful man who he was. My dad suffered from a serious inability to see how much god had used him. He was my greatest example of a great man seeking forgiveness and giving it to others so freely. Willis Bradley was the greatest man I have ever known.

Since his first heart attack in 1981, he had suffered several heart related problems and medical procedures. In 1987, while I was living in France, my father suffered another very serious heart attack. I was forced to fly home. My daughter, Amber, wouldn’t speak to me all day, when she knew I was leaving. I swear I tried to hug that girl at least ten times that day, and she just would not respond. That night, I was leaving home to take a train to Paris and then board a plane to Chicago, where my very sick father was going to have bypass on his heart. I will never forget how when I picked up my bags to walk out to my taxi, Amber ran to me and jumped in my arms and hugged me and told me four times, “You’re my daddy.” It was an unforgettable moment.

My dad was about to have his heart stopped and have new veins attached to his heart and implanted with a defibrillator and have his heart restarted when his heart began to flutter and get of rhythm. This wasn’t the first time he had been hospitalized, but it was definitely the worst one. Every child our father had raised stood around his bed. He knew we loved him and cherished him, and no matter what happened, we were there with him. I recall my dad looking into each of our faces and said, “I want you all to forgive me. I am sorry for my mistakes. I love you all.” We all cried, of course, and I looked at my brother Gary. “It should be us who asked his forgiveness.” Of course Gary agreed. We all watched him disappear into the operating room, and we saw him when he came out. That was a strong old man and I was proud to be his son. That operation helped my father live more than ten years longer.

In 1997, my father’s heart was just tired. He had fought the good fight with his uncooperative body and now simply put, he was weary. His defibrillator, which normally would erupt in his chest about once a month, was now going off at least four to five times a day. He was as terrified of the large dose of electrical current, which had always kept the beat of his heart steady. He told me he feared that jolt with painful increasing frequency and almost as much as actual death.

By the time Nuran had left for Turkey, for two months, in May of 1997, it was obvious that my father was tired and weakened beyond the point of recovery. I am thankful for the chance I had to stay with him for almost five weeks before his heart gave way for the last time. For me, there it is nothing short of amazing to see how God cares for even the smallest of details. I had already driven three hundred miles to bring my children up to my mom’s and dad’s house and they had been able to get to know their grandfather and to spend Father’s Day with me and their grandfather.

I recall my father’s face, on what would be his last father’s day. He looked gaunt, weak and worn. His frazzled look spelled only one thing in my mind, my seventy-five year old father was going to die very soon. He really did his best to be strong and seemed to love his day with the family he knew loved him, but it was easy to see that his time was short and I wanted to live it all with him.

I can still see and hear my conversation outside with my sister Diann and her husband, John. I just could see it all in my head and the most amazing realization of my dad’s soon passing filled my mind and was as clear as the sun that was shinning. I looked at my sister and brother in law and spoke what I knew would come true.

“You all should be here tomorrow, because Dad’s going to die tomorrow.”

Neither of them responded, but they looked at me with expressions of slight disbelief. I cannot say I had a vision or a bright light. It was just a point of understanding that had fixed itself firmly in my mind. My whole family gathered around our father for what would become an amazing family portrait that would become his last one with all of us together. I wished Nuran was there. She loved my dad and indeed he loved her back. I knew the whole situation would have torn her up, so I didn’t say too much to her, since she was so far away. My children seemed oblivious to the whole sad situation, and I was glad. Death does not mean much to children since they have their whole lives out ahead of them.

On June 16, 1997, my father was having a very bad day. He had felt dizzy all day, and in the afternoon I heard him fall to the floor. I rushed to his room and lifted him to his knees and there, at the side of his bed, with my arm wrapped around his shoulder, my father prayed to Jesus to take him home. He told his Lord that he was tired and that he was ready, but I certainly was not.

Over the past five weeks, I don’t think I had left my father’s side once except to run to the store for my mom. It would be my oldest daughter, Crystal’s thirteenth birthday, in a few days and I wanted to do something special for her. I took all three of them to the park and we had a wonderful time together. I found it to be a very difficult juggling act to be daddy and son to an expiring father at the same time. We spent about three hours together to celebrate Crystal’s birthday and returned home.

I noticed immediately that there were several cars parked in my parents’ driveway and several people outside. I parked my car and knew something terrible had happened. I recall distinctly looking at the front door when my brother’s pastor walked out and saw me, he shook his head to the left and right and the expression on his face had said it all. I had not left my dear dad’s side for several weeks and I took the chance to spend some time with my children and he had died while I was gone.

I truly cannot remember all that happened to me, at that very moment, but simple took off running and fell to the ground in disbelieve and sat there and wept a million tears. I had so wanted to spend his last moments with him, when he passed, but had missed it. My children gathered around me and comforted me and I was so glad they were there to live that awful moment with me. When I saw my mother, who had just lost her husband of almost fifty-four years, was stricken and broken and sat in her chair with tears streaming down her face.

When my father had collapsed onto the living room floor, she called my brother Gary and then she got down on the floor with my father and cradled his head in her arms. She told him she loved him and hugged him. She told me he opened his eyes once and smiled at her and then looked up and smiled, and he was gone. Gary came and did CPR on him but it was to no avail. My dear, godly and beautiful father had met the one who had given him life in the first place. I knew where he was, but I wanted him back. Instead, one day I shall go to meet him in a place much better than the one he left.

The whole very terrible situation was very difficult for my beautiful wife, Nuran. My dad and she had developed a very close relationship, and she loved my dad very much. For the past two years almost, my father had picked her up at work and brought her home and she loved his personality and his character. When I called Nuran in Turkey and told her that dad was gone, she couldn’t even speak. She asked me if we could talk later and before we hung up, I heard her start to sob and her heart broke. I will never forget the love Nuran showed my parents, at all times, even when it was not easy. She rests in my heart as one of my heroes because of her love and concern for the special people in my life.

Willis Bradley was not wealthy. He had only attended school until the fourth grade. He was loved and respected, but he had done nothing that would put him into history books. Yet, in my eyes and in the eyes of anyone who knew him, he was a giant. He had a heart full of love, wittiness, compassion and faith in his God. There is no one who stands in my mind today as the perfect example of Christ more than Willis Bradley, my father. I find that I am more like him than I had ever thought, and it is a wonderful complement every time someone compares me to him. Willis Bradley left behind two daughters, three sons, a house full of grandkids and hearts that truly admired and loved him. His was not just the death of a man. To us, and to anyone who knew him, his was the passing of a giant.

Get a copy at:

Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Goodreads

Steven Clark Bradley's Amazon Author'sPage:

A Bridge To Cross - The Most Intelligent of Idiots - the Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley

Read The Most Intelligent of Idiots - The Love of God in Chandraghona by Steven Clark Bradley

Read The Most Intelligent of Idiots - A Stranger Just In Time

This is a Trap The Second Republic - Patriot Acts Part II

2011-06-15T23:07:00.000-07:00

You’re the President of the United States and your nation is confronted with a virus that kills upon contact and you have information that the terrorists are holed up in an apartment in Downtown Los Angeles. Your Intel says it’s real. Your human advisors are split on whether to strike or to wait. You have to make a decision and it has to be now. Read this excerpt from The Second Republic Patriot Acts Part II. It will give you a glimpse of what the Commander in Chief must do to save his nation.

_____________________

This is a Trap

Washington, D.C.

March 6, 2011, 3:04 p.m.

“Are you sure, Sam; downtown LA?” President Tate asked Secretary Blake who appeared on the screen from inside the Homeland Security Department, not far from the White House.

“Yes, Mr. President. We have a large force ready in the Los Angeles area awaiting your word. I think we can get the bastard.”

Fisher was troubled and wanted to explain. “Sam, I think the President needs to know, first of all, how you got the info. Because you’re telling me a simple trace yielded you this much information? God is great and good, but He seldom gives up adversaries so easily, not impossible, but unlikely.” Samuel said, “Sir, it is our only lead. We have to take action.”

“Thank you both. I always come away knowing more about how you guys think.”

“Could I please add something?” Fisher asked. “We should not forget that this is the man who, in less than twelve hours, has possibly killed more people in a single terrorist attack than any other in recorded history and orchestrated the assassination of the Vice President. So, I am supposed to believe that this perverted genius simply forgot to protect his call? It doesn’t work that way; I know something about it. Sam, please don’t get angry at me, but it is my recommendation that we not pursue this lead. It was way too easy, and it feels like a trap. We should give the President some time to consider this.”

“I will call you back in ten minutes, Sam.”

“Certainly, Mr. President.” The call ended.

* * *

Downtown Los Angeles

March 6, 2011, 3:18 p.m.

“Sir, we’re rather exposed here. Should we stand down?” Captain Mitch O’Connell asked.

“No, this is how he works, but he always makes the right decision,” the Secretary answered.

“Just like HR 8791?”

“The President has not decided on that.” Blake added, “I’m going to pretend I did not hear that. Now, you give me ten, and you’ll have your orders.”

“Yes sir.”

Captain O’Connell peered down the corridor of the old apartment building that had more whore houses than he’d seen anywhere else in Los Angeles. All fifty of his men stood in line and waited for ten minutes that felt like weeks.

Washington, D.C.

March 6, 2011, 3:09 p.m.

“Fisher, we have to do something. Every lead must be pursued.”

“Mr. President, do you remember what you said about feeling something in your gut before they killed Bill? I get that same feeling about this raid. We’re dealing with a crazy man, but also a very smart man who’s so pissed he’s ready to take the entire human race with him into oblivion.”

Tate’s face took on a look of great anxiety. “I have the lives of Americans, possibly the entire world, in my hands right now. This is the decision of my lifetime; I know that. That’s how it works. We’ll see how much the American people want me if I do what it takes to end this crisis. The medicine is often as bad as the disease … this time worse.”

Secretary Blake’s face appeared on the large screen again. “Sam, I’m uploading.”

Sam pressed the send button and an order appeared on Tate’s screen. Using a small digital pen, he wrote his name on a plastic pad, and it appeared on the document. Tate then saved it and sent it back to Blake.

“Let’s hope we’re right, Sam.”

Downtown Los Angeles

March 6, 2011, 3:14 p.m.

“Captain O’Connell, engage.”

“Copy that.”

O’Connell flashed a thumb up, and his men eased up the stairs. Two of them carried a bar and heaved it two times before the door flew open. At that moment, a heavy deathly stream of smoke burst out of the room with the smell of burnt flesh that flowed through the air. The attack force rushed in and couldn’t make out anything clearly through the haze, and their eyes felt hot.

Their flashlights caught a scene that made several huge, macho men throw up their guts. Around them piles of gooey, grayish slime covered the floor. Full heads of long hair lay twisted in the center of each deathly scene.

“We’ve got a massacre here.”

“Sir, it’s hard to tell, but there appears to be about twenty dead illegal aliens here, and you called this a safe-house?”

O’Connell stepped across the threshold and covered his mouth and nose as his men spoke.

“Sir, look at that.”

“They’re all dead … melted, I mean wasted away … no more.”

“No one deserves this … no one.”

“Are you all right?”

“Don’t send anyone here. I am sealing the door. I repeat, send no one. Lord, please help us.”

“Captain O’Connell?”

“This is President Tate. How can we help you?”

“Sir, don’t send anyone here. It is a setup. We are sealing the perimeter, Mr. President and trying to stop outside contamination. You have to stop this or it’ll kill everyone.”

The assault team shut their radios off.

“O’Connell, are you there?”

The attack force members searched the apartment until they found an old mattress and some sheets. They threw them against the door and then sealed it with duct tape.

One, then three felt the internal affects of the virus almost immediately. The infection quickly spread to each one of them. Their lungs burned from having breathed in the biological death. They each pulled their guns and pointed them at their own heads.

“Live free or die,” they all shouted and pulled the triggers. Each of them fell to the ground. Several had already started to dissolve before deciding what death they should endure. The thick evil material engulfed each of them, who had already mercifully ended their own lives.

Washington, D.C.

March 6, 2011, 3:17 p.m.

“Sam, no one can leave that building,” the President demanded. “Anyone who attempts to flee is to be warned and shot if they do not comply. Activate the LAPD police network to consolidate their coverage. Their top priority is to facilitate the CDC in any manner requested.”

“Sam, you’re their boss now. I want helicopters overhead shining lights down there to make sure no one leaves. Get the army in there. We have a catastrophic event, and we must respond with catastrophic measures. Lincoln did it in a crisis not nearly as cataclysmic as this. Habeas Corpus is suspended until this order is rescinded, by the President. This order is in effect immediately at the sound of my voice, and a signed order will be forthcoming.”

“Yes sir, I will call out the all available National Guard and Reserves,” Secretary Blake said.

“I want restraint and demand fairness without neglecting to remember that these are our American brothers and sisters. In addition, Sam, all forces are now activated. This is a National Peril Alert. Any person, not stationed abroad, whether on leave of any kind, should report for duty immediately. Any member the United States Armed Forces who has not reported for duty by the end of April 7, 2011, without prior authorization, will be reported as AWOL. Get the hard copy to me as soon as possible.”

“Yes sir, as we speak, Mr. President.”

Tate switched off the screen. He pressed a button on his phone. “Michelle, are the documents ready? And everyone in place?”

“Yes sir, everything is in order. Mr. President …”

You can read these excerpts as well from The Second Republic:

The Second Republic - Patriot Acts II "This is an EMERGENCY!"

Flying Dead... The Second Republic Patriot Acts Part II

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Take A Sneak Peek at Patriot Acts III The Consortium

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif

Get a copy of The Second Republic E-Book NOW!

Pre-Order your copy of The Second Republic Print Version NOW!

_________________________________

Get Your Copy of Patriot Acts Part I

_________________________________

Steven's Amazon Author's Page

The Most Intelligent of Idiots - The Memoirs of Author Steven Clark Bradley - A Stranger Just in Time

2010-09-06T23:09:00.000-07:00

Recently, I was a approached by a former publisher of mine to write my memoirs. I was, to say the least, surprised that anyone was interested, and who know, they may not be!I told my publisher that the problem with writing an auto biography was that I had to tell the truth. This has become a real adventure in itself and I have come to realize that if you are one of those who is smart and who still does stupid things at times, then you'll love my story. I hope you read this excerpt and let me know what you think.

This is a work in progress

(Have mercy on any typos you may find :>)

Steven Clark Bradley - Author of
Patriot Acts Nimrod Rising StillBorn! Probable Cause

A Stranger Just in Time

Knox, Indiana,

May, 1974

It was going to be a great day. I got out of school early and started a journey that would totally change my life. I always find it strange today how a four hundred pound, fourteen year-old boy could actually look in the mirror and think he looked good. Yet, until I was almost fifteen, that’s exactly what I did.

(Steven at 8 years old)

I have developed the theory that the human brain has some kind of mechanism that makes the eyes inside of a fat body not see the real person reflecting back at them; at least, that was my case, after the expanse of my guts got bigger than it had ever been intended to be and when I took up more space than I was ever allotted to take up, I still thought I looked great. But, back in 1974, at the age of fourteen, going on fifteen, at four hundred something pounds, I felt just fine, until my mom stuck her nose into my fat problem. I thank God she did, and she knew how to get each of us kid’s attention. Geneva Bradley was definitely the smartest person everywhere she went.

One day, I was walking out of the high school and my mother was waiting outside to take me home. I was happy and bounded down the school steps. I got in the car and my mother looked at me and said, “Steven, you shake like a bowl of jello when you walk.” It was those words that had hit me like an arrow through my heart, and I had

( Steven 12 Years Old)

repeated them over and over and they made me angry and determined which was why today, I was leaving school early on this May afternoon in 1974. The result of

that afternoon appointment at the doctor’s left me with a bottle of diet pills that would eventually take me from a forty eight inch waist to a thirty-two inch belly in the short space of three month and it almost killed me.

Those days were the moments when I first really started to work on writing out my experience of trying to stop looking like a giant human ball. I was taking three times more each day than the doctor had prescribed, and it gave me an overdose of energy and I could not sit still. So, I wrote down almost everything I did when my self-prescribed two pills a day regimen seemed to be doing the trick.

(Steven In Little League)

I literally stopped eating. Often, I got hungry, made something to eat and found it the next morning where I had sat it down because I was too busy racing around doing things to remember to eat it. I stayed in my room, away from my mom, because if I hung around her, she’d know for sure what I was doing, but I was determined to lose more fat.

Sometimes in the morning, I could not remember if I had slept or not. I have always hated to sleep anyway. I have never slept more than five hours a day anyway. I didn’t care; the weight was melting off of me. I talked nice to my mom, and I was genuinely happy, because I liked what I was changing into. I stayed in my room and exercised, wrote everything in my journal and listened to some awesome Pink Floyd and Grand Funk Railroad, and then there was Emerson, Lake and Palmer, Steve Miller…

(Me after I lost all my weight)

I did some writing at home, but I did most of the recording of my experience at the library at school and downtown or wherever I could write about everything that had happened that day. I wrote it all down, from the day I went to the doctor to the day I replaced the pills with weed. I had a growing field of it, just growing wild and just waiting to be loved. I loved it and fertilized it and never had the Jones’ one time. I wrote it all in my

(My High School Graduation Day)

journal, which I had appropriately titled ‘The Happy Loser Diary,’ in tribute to all the weight I was losing. I recorded my movements, many of my thoughts, the excitement of beginning to finally looking human until the first day back at school right, after my fifteenth birthday. It was my way of making truth stranger than fiction. Here are some entries from my journal, The Happy Loser Diary.

Happy Loser Diary (301 pounds)

Entry 17

Friday, June 28, 1974 11:32 a.m.

Knox, Indiana

It was summer school. I’m not attending; I can’t be bothered with all that. I did have permission though to use the library in the mornings. I really liked the school library. The books cases are lined up in domino formation, or at least they were. The arrangement made it easy to see all the books. Earlier this morning, I was surprised to see the library full of students. There wasn’t an empty seat in the whole place. So, I just hung around.

(My Mom & Dad -

Willis & Geneva Wireman Bradley)

At one table, to my right, there were four boys laughing it up, big guys, Juniors or seniors and much bigger than me. They were all looking into the end of a pen at some kind of dirty pictures.

(My Dad, Mom and Sister Joann)

Then, suddenly, they all got up and walked out. That was my queue, and I sat down in the seat at the end of the table just as the scholastic thugs returned and walked up to me. One of them had long brown hair. He walked up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. He said, “Get out of chair.” I turned around to see who he was, to size him up and get an idea of what it would take to bring him down. Negotiation always buys time.

There would be no negotiations today; only reactive fury. I had been on the pills for two weeks at that time. My mind worked fast and I was used to giving off energy and I had a mother lode of it mixed with rage this morning.

(My Brothers and Sisters, Left to Right Back Row: Diann, Gary, Me Front Row: Joann & Mark)

I turned my head toward the high school big boy and he hit me in the face. That just could not be allowed and left me no choice. The pills were coursing through me now and forcing adrenaline through my head. I stood up fast and just let the rage rising up inside me propel me to almost want to kill the boy. I grabbed that big bad boy by all of his long hair and wrapped his girly locks

(My Dad's Studebaker's ID card 1944)

around my arm and pulled his face down on my knee. He was screaming and yelling. “My hair, let go of my hair.” I had to shown him that it was not wise to judge others by appearance. But that was not enough for the most intelligent of idiots. Then, I literally picked him up in the air and threw him against the bookcases in the library. One by one, every bookcase fell to the floor and thank God, no one was in the aisle. They were all watching me kick that bad boy’s butt.

I heard the noise of at least twelve rows of cases tumbling downward, one by one. I put my hands to my side and looked at the devastation and said, “Oh, No!” Everyone laughed, except for the librarian. I was kicked out of the upcoming first week of the new

(My Mother, Geneva Wireman 18 years old)

school year. That was a deal of a lifetime. I must have scared the stupid boy’s male anatomy to death, because every time he sees me at school, he goes the other way. For me, I was of a mind to apologize, which I never got to do.

Magazine featuring my campaign

for Mayor of South Bend, Indiana

The Happy Loser Diary (292 pounds)

Entry 26

July 21, 1974 4:35 p.m.

Knox, Indiana

It was four-thirty; was it morning or this afternoon? I can’t be sure. I remember checking my watch. I felt like I had just awakened, but I had actually realized that I was outside, downtown in an alley and pacing back and forth. I couldn’t remember where I was, barely knew who I was or how to get out of the alleyway and back on the street. My brain still feels like it’s on fire. I couldn’t sit still and walked my reducing body of 292 pounds around in circles.

About the only thing that can get me to sit still for a while is sitting in the library reading World book Encyclopedias. I am devouring them and reading through them with almost religious ferocity. Reading through the volumes of information gave me a taste for the beyond, out of my realm of activity, to worlds so different than my own. The thought tantalizes me as an almost fifteen year old thinning boy who wants significance.

Then there was politics; I remember loving politics since I was a young boy in 1968 when Nixon was running against Hubert Humphrey. I crave information on the president, Watergate, the history and documents of the republic. During campaign season, I watched it all, followed each state and read every word of Time Magazine, Newsweek and US News and World reports. I have to know, to see it, to be able to speak to it and understand the way the rest of the world thought.

I remember sitting in the Knox Indiana City Library reading about Bangladesh. “It’s the poorest country in the world, and one day, I will see it with my own eyes.” I told myself. I opened the B volume to read the rest on the famished land of the Bengalis. I heard something and felt the library table shaking. My eyes glanced up and there was such a pretty face looking back at me.

Though, I truly cannot remember her name, a beautiful girl was smiling at me and said, “You know, you’re looking great.” That was nice. So, I smiled and looked at her and said, “You too.” She smiled and then frowned. I was not implying she had gone from fat to slim like I was doing. She looked down at the time magazines I had spread around me and the Newsweek magazine and three different World Book volumes open before me.

You’re smart aren’t you?” She said. All I could respond was, “I don’t know.” I had truly never thought or wondered about that. I just liked what I liked and hated what I hated, but it made me think. I was a boy who hated to hurt people and wanted to make them laugh, and to reach out and to do something significant.

I looked at the pretty face of this unnamed creature that was very wonderful to behold. I thought about my words and then said, “I don’t know if I’m smart, I might just be the most intelligent of idiots.” She smiled nicely and I think truly coolly turned around and said, “Is that going to be the name of your biography?”

Happy Loser Diary (207 Pounds)

Entry 27, Knox, Indiana

August 4, 1974, 5:49 p.m.

There was also another face I recall seeing in my drug-induced stupor. I can still see it looking down at me as I opened my glossy speeding eyes while sprawled out on the sidewalk. Earlier today, I was reeling and so nervous I thought I’d shake all my bones lose. I can see it all now so clearly. I kept trying to figure out how to get out of that cursed alley. It had crossed my narcotic-Laced brain a few times with the notion that maybe I had died and I was in hell; cursed to wander to and fro for eternity in that dark and gloomy alleyway. That was ridiculous since I do not even believe in God.

What if I walked to the end of the alley, if I can get to the street?” Nothing seemed real and my mind felt like it was suddenly in slow motion. My body was reeling from hyper activity for days on end and then a sudden shutdown of the energy made me feel like the medicine felt stronger than usual, probably because I had most likely messed up and taken three. There I was walking in circles but forced myself to move in one direction and I found the end of the alleyway and ended up on the city sidewalk, right in front of Chuck’s tavern. Everything looked hazy and my hands and feet were tingling and my legs felt like rubber. I sat myself down on the sidewalk just before everything went black. I remember, everything was gone except mere echoes.

I could feel someone breathing on me; someone was watching me as I lay on the cement sidewalk. My eyes opened and I caught a glimpse of someone, a him or a her, as my eyes flashed open and closed several times. Whoever it was grabbed me under my arms and lifted me up and walked me all around town to keep me awake and use up some of the mother lode of excess energy that three of the pills at the Franke time had produced. I felt like everything was jumbled and somehow real but not. The bundle of nerves and thoughts and words I was no longer able to get out had induced a panic inside me that I was fading away. The stranger made sure I had revived, sat me down and let go of my arms.

“He was a stranger just in time.”

Happy Loser Diary (147 pounds)

Entry 32, Knox, Indiana

August 19, 1974, 6:32 p.m.

My first day back to school today was one of the most enjoyable days of my childhood. I had traveled from the world of the fat and ugly four hundred and twenty three pound me to the world of skinny and still ugly one hundred forty-three beautiful pounds.

Just yesterday, I saw my fifteen year old brother, Gary for the first time in two months. He had been caught doing a legal no-no and had been on a two-month retreat behind bars. My mom actually went to talk the judge. The honorable someone told her that he was going to put Gary on probation. My mom asked to lock Gary up for two months, which the judge approved. When I walked into the house, earlier today, Gary saw me but had no idea who I was. He had been … away while the pounds rolled off me. When I spoke and he heard my voice, he knew immediately who I was and his mouth dropped open. And, it got better.

When I walked into the school, after having almost hidden out for the whole summer, no one knew who I was. I was just learning about my new self as well. I remember one of my best friends, Peggy back, looked at me and realized it was me and started crying, hugged me and she said, “Are you dying?” My response was perfect. “Dying? I just started living!” The moment was and is precious.

Without a doubt, the most memorable part of the day is when I went into Mr. Ostreiker. He was for sure one of the very best, and his demeanor made me always want to go to his class. I walked in and found a seat close to the front. There would be no backseat numskull anymore. The Teacher walked up to me and looked up at the class.

Let me have your attention, we have a new student with us.” He looked at me and said my name wasn’t on the roster. “Welcome, what’s your name, young man?”

I could scarcely hold my laughter. “Steven Bradley.” I said. Mr. Ostreiker looked slightly befuddled. It was obvious he was having a moment of where his brain was deciphering conflicting information from the previous year; he smiled. “We have another Steven Bradley.”

I inhaled so not to kill the moment with laughter. He walked closer to me and looked at me. “Stand up, young man.” He told me. “It is you; everyone, give Mr. Bradley a hand.” It was embarrassing and perfect.”

As I read a new these early records of my life, I can see place after place where God placed his protecting hand on me and saved me from arrest, from danger, and that day, from certain death. I never learned who this stranger just in time was, but I have a good idea where he came from, but why send a stranger in time to save the most intelligent of idiots?

Steven Clark Bradley's Blogs http://www.stevenbradley.net/ http://stevenclarkbradleyspatriotacts.blogspot.com/

Available Now!!! Available Now!!! Available Now!!!
The Second Republic: E-Book version
Get it at: http://www.writewordsinc.com/serepaacvo2...

What would America do if we were faced with a horrendous terrorist attack that no amount of security could stop?

In “The Second Republic – Patriot Acts Part II,” the President of the United States is confronted with a radical underground secret cabal that has targeted America with a domestic bio-terror attack that dwarfs the assault unleashed on September 11, 2001.

This second book in the Patriot Acts trilogy takes the reader inside the White House where treachery and terrorism boils below its underbelly. While trying to avoid invoking emergency powers that could destroy American constitutional freedoms, a former Special Ops officer, now the President of the United States, races to stop a deadly virus, which has killed thousands of innocent Americans.

This Fisher Harrison saga, The Second Republic, is an action thriller that could appear on any of today’s headlines, on any given day with a plausible scenario for the death of humankind that is too frighteningly conceivable for comfort.

When Too Much Security Can Kill You!
Steven Clark Bradley

The Second Republic (E-Book)

When Too Much Security Can Kill You!

Click Here To Read An Excerpt From
The Second Republic
______________________

Steven Clark Bradley

Patriot Acts
by
Steven Clark Bradley

Where is Patriot Acts available?

This new exciting novel is easy to find and available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you secure you own copy of Patriot Acts.

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Amazon,com

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Cambridge Books

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Ebooks on the net

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Amazon.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Fictionwise.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Mobipocket.com

I hope everyone who reads this will not just think
it is entertainment or the irrational rambling of a scared
American. I am not afraid; I am convinced that no one
will secure our future except us.
That is why I declare the main theme of Patriot Acts
in one key phrase:

No unconditional Talks
Just patriot Acts!

Check Out Steven Clark Bradley's
Free E-Book Offer Here!

You can read more of
Steven Clark Bradley's
work at any of these blogs
listed below:

Author Steven Clark Bradley
From The Mind of Steven Clark Bradley
Steven Clark Bradley @ Inspired Author
Steven Clark Bradley - Nikki Leigh Virtual Book Tours
Steven Clark Bradley @ The Power of The Written Word
Steven Clark Bradley @ Communati.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Blogtalk Radio.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Facebook
Steven Clark Bradley @ Twitter.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Xanga.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Amazon.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ yuku.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Bookmarket.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Published Authors.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Word That Work
Steven Clark Bradley @ Goodreads.com
Steven Clark Bradley @ Myspace.com

The Consortium - Patriot Acts Part III

Is Paris Burning?

The Consortium - Patriot Acts Part III - No One Is Immune!

2010-04-10T23:53:00.000-07:00

In September 2008, The Fed and the treasury came to President George W. Bush and issued him a suicide threat like Secretary Henry Paulson walked into the Oval Office and put a gun to his own head and said, eight hundred Billion dollars or in 24 hours we die and 5 trillion dollars would disappear with the entire... world economy. President Bush said yes. What if had said NO? Take a look at

The Consortium
Patriot Acts Part III
No One Is Immune!

Chapter Twenty Six

The European Union
March 13, 2011 5:56 a.m. G.M.T.

The European Union was now a complete misnomer. In the space of mere minutes, the artificial bonds became fragmented the moment Warren Berkowitz had pressed the button and made Europe’s Children’s futures change forever. Even before this continent’s people opened their eyes for the day, a new medieval-like dark age had already descended upon the peoples that made Europe classic in its taste, its music, its lovemaking and its laissez-faire disregard for the security of the continent. Now, there would be no more four or five week holidays, because there would be no more work.

Many of the nouveau poor wouldn’t have even learned it at all until much later in the day if the sudden shaking in the windows had not started; rattling down streets in Berlin, Paris, Madrid, Rome, and in every major city of the world that had been awakened from sleep and from their false sense of security that had never really existed, by the sound of thousands of military vehicles taking control of the streets.

The caravans were so large and long that their movement down the highways, the boulevards and avenues, onto the streets where millions of eyes peered out their windows in shock and awe at the sounds of tanks and transport vehicles menacing the people who had bought and paid for it all. Europe’s world had come to an end and no one had a gun to safe their families from certain death.

Earlier in the evening, alarms blared throughout cities as automatic warning sirens ignited when bank computers told the system there had been a robbery simply because instantaneously registering and calculating that three quarters of the world’s funds were simply and utterly gone.

Yet, it was not the alarms all wailing in the night that had set the people on edge. Almost none of them even had the slightest idea that their comfort zone no longer existed. Europe, Asia and Africa had become global prisons.

Before their people even looked at or even knew that their own situation was rolling headlong over the edge, the windows had begun rattling because the sound of hundreds of large European troop transport vehicles heading down every European highway and taking up positions to enforce the Martial Law that the European continental powers had just declared.

Executive Order

Patriot Acts Part III Unimaginable?

Raven Rock (Site R)
March 12, 2011 10:57 p.m.

“We’ve got incoming.” One of the escorting chopper pilots shouted. “We’re coming in tight and we’re hovering over motorcade One.” The four black hawks came in close and formed an overhead shield over President Harrison’s convoy, as best they could.

“Site R munitions. We’ve got a hot big boggie headed our way. You gotta get something in the air; whatever you got, you need to get it up and ready to blow the bank man away.” Hamilton said with urgency in his voice.

“Copy that. Sir, we want that as bad as you do, but nothing’s ready to launch, and it’s at least all thirty years old. What is the condition of Law and Order?”

“I’m ready to inflict some pain, but seems we don’t have much pain to give.” Fisher said into the radio.

“Mr. President, we are readying the doors and unafraid to fight this war. It is an honor.”

“You give me courage, Major. Take us in.”

“Set a heading of 020 and follow your waypoint once you enter the tunnels to our lovely mountainous cavern home” The Major shouted over Hamilton’s radio. Then he felt a trembling at first in his hands then it ran all over his body and he lost complete voluntary control of all his faculties. He was under control.

Executive Order- Patriot Acts III - Inevitable?

“Presidential rescue one entering caverns. We are switching to alternate fuel.”

When the convoy had fully entered the tunnels, the four choppers veered off in four different directions and sat hovering for distance measurements and precise hits with thirty year old munitions.

“Sir, we got an incoming and no way to hit them.” The chopper pilot reported.

“We need your waypoints into the base and are crossing into tunnel F1.”

“Mr. President, you would have been a splendid head of state, except that I’m going to kill you.”

“Who the hell is this?” Hamilton shouted. “Where’s my waypoint to Site R., dam it.” Hamilton shouted again.

“It’s Berkowitz.” Peter said lowly, but everyone heard him and understood.”

“Did you lead them here, Barlowe?” Hamilton asked sharply.

“You both know as well as I do, that the Major at the base is the link to bring this incoming beast that wants to devour us.” Fisher said. “It could be a nuke. So, we’re on our own again gentlemen, but has it not been this way?

“So, we stick together and take this Major down, but remember he’s chipped and it is all innocent blood being compelled to kill against his own will. If he tries to kill us, even appears to want to do so, then take him down, but I would like to save him, to take him down, not take him out.” Everyone agreed.

Peter took out a blackberry and hit some preprogrammed buttons. “He’s got a bomb!” Hamilton shouted.

“Mr. Vice President, you’re a little jumpy, don’t you think?” Peter said respectfully. “I understand it’s hard to trust me, just now, but you will. I’ll make sure of it. So, let’s start here.”

Hamilton looked at Peter and his face softened. “OK, I’m gonna roll the dice here and my gut says yes; so, carry on.”

Peter clicked on the link and a list of two hundred Army and Air Force bases around the world appeared on the Blackberry’s screen. Peter clicked on Brookfield and clicked again on the link that read, ‘Brookfield Launch, match altitude and go boom.’

He had set up some quite elaborate defenses at Brookfield base. He had already known that he’d never work beside Berkowitz. They would kill each other, which Peter was pretty sure was going to happen anyway. Peter clicked on the link and the earth moved in four different locations where Peter had set up his surface to air missile batteries.

Sliding doors were activated and opened across the surface of the Earth and four launch vehicles rose up out of the ground. There were a lot of Brookfield residents still at the defunct military base at the late hour trying to get a feel for the place where history was made. They saw the four launchers with eight modern guided missiles rise up out of the ground and come to life, all of them had been purchased with Consortium money.

Peter saw a red button appear on his blackberry. He clicked on the button and the residents of Brookfield, Ohio saw four rockets leap off the launcher and into the air. Everyone shrouded their ears from the deafening sound as the rockets hurdled into the air.

“I’m gonna kill the bastard, Mr. President.” Peter shouted as Hamilton maneuvered the convoy through the tunnels.

“Peter, you do what you feel will save the most lives. We don’t agree with what you did, but the same action had crossed my mind in a day far back. Now, I believe you want to get rid of this devil and his influence, forever. So, it’s redemption time, for all of us.” Fisher replied.

Peter watched the rockets’ progress as they locked onto their targets, one by one.

Inside B1 Bomber over Site R
March 12, 2011 11:07 p.m.

“Sir, we’re making our final run and beginning our de … scent." The pilot froze for a second when he realized that four missiles had locked onto him.

“Sir, we have a situation here.”

Copenhagen, Denmark
March 13, 2011 6:12 a.m. GMT

“Hell, there are situations all over the place right about now. Tell me about yours.” Berkowitz said, ever so slightly unnerved. He looked around his office and counted ten physicians, eight armed guards and three photographers. “I’ll never feel my solitude again.” Berkowitz thought out loud. He realized that he could get rid of them any time he wanted. “I think I’ll keep’em right here.” he told anyone who listened.

Inside B1 Bomber over Site R
March 12, 2011, 11:12 p.m.

“Sir, we have four inbound bogies on a direct path to us. What do you want us do?”

Against his better judgment, Berkowitz started to laugh. “Oh my goodness, it sucks to be you right now, doesn’t it?” he laughed again. “You sound really screwed. I’ll see you in hell before too long. Then you can claw my eyes out.” Berkowitz pressed a button.

“Sir …”

Raven Rock (Site R)
March 12, 2011 11:12 p.m.

Peter punched in the coordinates for their destination. The blackberry ran the application that connected to the convoy’s current location and mapped it out on the screen.

“Left at the next tunnel.” Peter bellowed out. Hamilton saw the tunnel ahead and radioed all the vehicles following and the escorts ahead. They all made the tunnel and a light was visible up ahead.

“Everyone, stop fifty feet ahead.” Hamilton ordered. Each of the vehicles in the Presidential convoy hit their brakes and everyone piled out.

“We’re deep in inside this rock. That means the slightest noise will echo all the way to Beijing.” Fisher said. “Everyone fill your ammo and take as many weapons as you can carry and still use them.”

Hamilton took the radio off his belt and tried to hand it to President Harrison. Fisher refused. “You’re running this show, and doing it right, so I’ll let you lead, so you can die first.”

“That is mighty kind of you, Mr. President. You may have just lost my vote.”

They started fanning out when they felt a little tremor from above, so they knew it wasn’t an earthquake. Then they heard a loud blast, and it was clear to all that the plane that was trying to bring Raven Rock Mountain down on top of the Fisher and his rebels had in fact gone down.

“Great work, Peter.” Michelle Oh said with sincerity.

“Thanks, but my rockets didn’t have anything to hit, by the time they reached the target. They collided into each other, and went boom, that’s all.” Peter said.

“Berkowitz remotely blew them up. He is one heartless bastard.” Fisher said

“I knew Professor Yang really well.” Peter announced. “No one was closer to Berkowitz than he was, and Yang told me everything about this maniac. That is how I was able to use him more than he did me.” Peter looked at the walls of the mountain lair and then at all those gathered around him.

“He’s his father times ten.”

Brookfield Military Base
March 12, 2011 11:18 p.m.

The residents of Brookfield refused to return to their homes, despite the late hour. The security teams that had linked up with Hamilton to rescue the president heard it first and knew what it was. They had already seen the trail of white smoke in the air heading slightly northeast. Then the white trail of smoke became a yellow and orange flash of light overhead, and it began to rain metal fragments about six minutes later. They all ran for cover, as did the residents who had actually set up tents to camp out at the now historic site. They all ran in any direction to find a spot to shield them from the falling debris.

Raven Rock (Site R)
March 12, 2011 11:19 p.m.

“OK, the plane is down.” President Fisher Harrison told his comrades. “Let’s go rescue our Major.”

_________________________

Available Now!!! Available Now!!! Available Now!!!
The Second Republic: E-Book version
Get it at: http://www.writewordsinc.com/serepaacvo2...

What would America do if we were faced with a horrendous terrorist attack that no amount of security could stop?

In “The Second Republic – Patriot Acts Part II,” the President of the United States is confronted with a radical underground secret cabal that has targeted America with a domestic bio-terror attack that dwarfs the assault unleashed on September 11, 2001.

This second book in the Patriot Acts trilogy takes the reader inside the White House where treachery and terrorism boils below its underbelly. While trying to avoid invoking emergency powers that could destroy American constitutional freedoms, a former Special Ops officer, now the President of the United States, races to stop a deadly virus, which has killed thousands of innocent Americans.

This Fisher Harrison saga, The Second Republic, is an action thriller that could appear on any of today’s headlines, on any given day with a plausible scenario for the death of humankind that is too frighteningly conceivable for comfort.

The Second Republic - Patriot Acts II
Now Available
Get it at:
The Second Republic (E-Book)

When Too Much Security Can Kill You!

Click Here To Read An Excerpt From
The Second Republic
______________________

Steven Clark Bradley

Patriot Acts
by
Steven Clark Bradley

Where is Patriot Acts available?

This new exciting novel is easy to find and available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you secure you own copy of Patriot Acts.

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Amazon,com

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Cambridge Books

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Ebooks on the net

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Amazon.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Fictionwise.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Mobipocket.com

No unconditional Talks
Just patriot Acts!

Check Out Steven Clark Bradley's
Free E-Book Offer Here!

You can read more of
Steven Clark Bradley's
work at any of these blogs
listed below:

Author Susan Whitfield Interviews with Author Steven Clark Bradley

2010-03-29T13:27:00.000-07:00

My guest today is Steven Clark Bradley. Steve, it’s nice to have you here. Fill us in on who you are and what you’ve been writing.

Visit Susan Whitfield's blog at:
http://susanwhitfield.blogspot.com/2010/03/interview-with-author-steven-clark.html Steven Clark Bradley

Author of Patriot Acts Nimrod Rising StillBorn! Probable Cause
My work and life in 34 countries include some of the most dangerous places in the world: the Middle East as a journalist in Pakistan, Iraq, Israel, Palestine and West Africa where I interviewed former Palestinian President Yasser Arafat in Ramallah Palestine, Muammar Qaddafi of Libya, and former Turkish President Turgut Ozel.
Additionally, my involvement in American politics, gives me a profound, first-hand knowledge of the political winds of change that constantly sway the American republic to the left and the right. Since I have been able to travel so widely, I write about things I have seen firsthand, which gives me a very vivid ability to tell a story that is both riveting and realistic. As a published author with four fast-action novels already on the market and as an educator, I have developed an active marketing ability as well as an extensive fan-based presence on the Internet.
Probable Cause
Yes, you have a huge Internet presence and your background is incredible. Steven, when did the writing bug bite, and in what genre(s)?
I have always been a storyteller. I was writing my dreams and my ideas when I was as young as ten. I have a need to express

the things I believe and want to tell in a manner that uses real-life issues to tell a story that can wake people up. I have always had a fear of one day dying and no one would know I had been here. I realized that the best way to be remembered is to do something memorable. A book, a story, fiction or otherwise leaves eternal footprints in the sands of time and that drove me to write. I think about the homeless and those incarcerated. Many of them will live, die and be used for science and I wanted it to be said I left behind me something to make men and women ponder.
StillBorn!
When you started writing, what goals did you want to accomplish? Is there a message you want readers to grasp?
I have always said that my works are like treatises on the life and potential destruction of America. I look at my work perhaps the way Josephus, the great Hebrew historian’s work. Though my work is fiction, the basis of my books is set in stone
and is being lived at this very time. I believe we are losing our freedom; freedoms that were never granted by any government, but by God. There are forces at work today that place all of us in the cross-hairs of totalitarian treatment. One of the biggest mistakes we are making today in our seeming delight in playing the part of the Ostrich. We have our heads in the sand and think our enemies cannot see our hinder parts.

Nimrod Rising
My stories go a long way in showing that going softly and politically with nations like Iran and North Korea, letting the fundamental transformation of America go unwarned will only embolden them and give our enemies the idea that we will not react to their behavior that endangers the peace of the world.

Unfortunately, they may be right. I try to show what will happen if left unchecked.
Patriot Acts
Briefly tell us about your latest book. Series or stand-alone?
My newest work is a series that originated from my first book in the trilogy, Patriot Acts. In this series, I have created a world that is sinister and ruthless where it is nearly impossible to tell your friends from your enemies. Sound familiar to the day in which we live? My newest book, which is just about ready to
come out in the e-book edition is a continuation to show what lurks below the political world that we all see on the news. It is about a deadly, biologically manufactured virus that threatens the whole world.

In The Second Republic, the President of the United States is confronted with a radical underground secret cabal that has targeted America with a domestic bio-terror attack that dwarfs the assault unleashed on September 11, 2001. Set in 2011, this character-driven 67,000 word suspense/thriller weaves a tale that is as plausible as it is exciting. This second book in a trilogy takes the reader inside the White House where treachery and terrorism boils below its underbelly, and a former Special Ops, now the President of the United States, races to stop a deadly virus, which has killed thousands of innocent Americans, without invoking emergency powers that could destroy American constitutional freedoms.

What’s the hook for that expressed e book?
The hook is how these stories immediately take the reader out of the realm of fiction and directly into the world in which we actually live. I am currently writing Patriot Acts part 3 titled, Executive Order. It takes off right where Part Two finishes. It takes the reader even more deeply into the financial master’s plots to control the money supply and to use their unlimited wealth to control the nation. When the president threatens to reveal their plots, the nation is taken to new depths of woe. All three books are so real and riveting that the hook is a natural captivating effect that captures the reader and instills a real fear of how much it is like the day in which we live. The emergency powers referenced in this novel are real and could be invoked in the event of a massive terrorist attack upon the American homeland. Research sources from the Center for Disease Control, Homeland Security, and the Defense Department validate that the threats described in The Second Republic are ripped from today’s headlines and too frighteningly conceivable for comfort.

How do you develop characters? Setting?
There is nothing greater than writing & creating something from nothing. It's the closest thing to the divine! I have lived in many cultures and it has given me a love for the differences amongst us. I am a student of American culture and write about the changes in our society. God created us with free will. He wants us to obey from our hearts. A Writer is a book's world's creator, and you are your characters' creator as well. Give your characters free will as well. Let them guide you and don't force them to do anything. It's an amazing phenomenon when, as I am fond of saying, the book begins to write itself.

Do you have specific techniques you use to develop the plot and stay on track?
I think actually, I try to stay on track too much. I started Part Three of Patriot Acts and had three chapters written and it felt flat, more like part two. Then I got my literary epiphany and I redid the whole thing and what has happened, because I let the story guide me, is a story that is the most powerful tale I have ever woven, and it serves as an excellent finale to the series and wraps up the loose ends so well. I do not outline my stuff and I start with a quite general theme and main idea. I leave a lot of open ground to plant my seeds of excitement, stress, love, mercy, revenge and plausible scenarios. I find it quite easy to stay on track simply because I am in the world of the story so richly and deeply that my biggest problem is coming out of it after I finish for the day. My wife often tells me, “come home Steven.” And, I know what she means precisely.

How does your environment/upbringing color your writing?
It is true that I have and played a great part in had a very diverse career, politics, journalism and world travel, but I do feel that my upbringing in rural Indiana did have a powerful effect on the views I hold as dear, such as family and faith. All of those activities in my life have given me a real understanding of what is out there and the dangers we face. I write stories that are only scary because they are so very plausible. I can say that the scenario of Patriot Acts and Patriot Acts Two, which is now in publishing, are both very real and related to the things and issues and dangers we now face in a world gone mad and gone weak. That is why I have striven so hard to make what I write so real and something that serves as a warning of the future that we face without realizing that freedom is not free.

What are your current projects?
My newest works are very different from each other. As I mentioned earlier, Part Tree of the Patriot Acts series, Executive Order is going really well, and I am very excited about that book. During the civil war, President Abraham Lincoln wrote, "The money powers prey upon the nation in times of peace and conspire against it in times of adversity. It is more despotic than a monarch, more insolent than autocracy and more selfish than a bureaucracy. It denounces, as public enemies, all who question its methods or throw light upon its crimes. I have two great enemies, the southern army in front of me and the financial institutions, in the rear. Of the two, the one in the rear is the greatest enemy..... I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me and causes me to tremble for the safety of my country.” It is obvious he was right.
In September of 2008, The Secretary of the treasury and the Federal Reserve Chairman came to President George W. Bush and told him, if he did not release $800 billion dollars to them, that in two hours, five trillion dollars would be siphoned from the American economy and cause the collapse of the US economy and our standard of life forever. They further stated that in twenty-four hours the whole world monetary system would fall, which has been widely called a suicide threat. George Bush capitulated and said yes. Executive Order asks the question, what if the President had said no?
I and my daughter are also writing an older children’s story called, Four Lessons for Willow Morgan. There is nothing more important than imparting strong values into the lives of our children. It is getting tougher and tougher today, with parents giving up more and more of their authority and responsibility to the schools and the government, to be faithful to the call of bringing up our children with examples of mercy, confession, fairness and conviction. Yet, nothing can do more for a child's future than teaching them about honesty, good choices and hard work when they are still young. That is why I have started this little book called Four lessons For Willow Morgan.
This is a story a story about decisions, wise judgment and strong convictions, about that which is right and that which is wrong. I am writing this a bit differently than I have in the past. This time, I am writing it together with my 9-year-old daughter, Selin Alicia Bradley. She is a bright, sweet and very smart young lady and loves to read. So, this is a two-fold project that gives my little girl lessons in creativity and this story can stimulate lots of children to seek more than their own self-interests, if they venture to read it.
Willow is a little girl who is growing up and who feels urges of rebellion, disobedience and disrespect starting to take hold in her life. Her mother and father recognize it and want to instill some true life lessons in her young heart.
Where can folks learn more about your books and events?
If anyone wants to learn more about my books or about my writing in general:
Stories That Read You: http://stevenbradley.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-so-it-all-begins-by-steven-clark.html Underground Controversy: http://undergroundcontroversy.blogspot.com/ Steven Clark Bradley’s Patriot Acts: http://stevenclarkbradleyspatriotacts.blogspot.com/ Steven Clark Bradley’s Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Steven-Clark-Bradley/e/B002BLJKI4/ref=sr_tc_img_2 Steven Clark Bradley Facebook Profile Page: http://www.facebook.com/#!/StevenClarkBradley?ref=profile Steven Clark Bradley Facebook Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Steven-Clark-Bradley/58795732010?ref=ts Steven Clark Bradley @ Twitter http://twitter.com/StevenBradley Steven Clark Bradley’s Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Steven-Clark-Bradley/e/B002BLJKI4/ref=sr_tc_img_2 Steven Clark Bradley @ Barnes and Noble: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/results.asp?ATH=Steven+Clark+Bradley Steven Clark Bradley @ Fictionwise: http://www.fictionwise.com/servlet/mwsearch Steven Clark Bradley @ Mobipocket: http://www.mobipocket.com/en/eBooks/searchebooks.asp?Language=EN&searchType=All&lang=EN&searchStr=Steven+Clark+Bradley I hope readers will take a look at my writing and see the depth and research that I have put into each story. I am sure they will find some stories that read them! Thanks for the interview, Steven. Continued success!

Patriot Acts
by
Steven Clark Bradley

Where is Patriot Acts available?

This new exciting novel is easy to find and available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you secure you own copy of Patriot Acts.

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Amazon,com

Patriot Acts (Print Version) at Cambridge Books

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Ebooks on the net

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Amazon.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Fictionwise.com

Patriot Acts (Electronic Version) at Mobipocket.com

No unconditional Talks
Just patriot Acts!

Check Out Steven Clark Bradley's
Free E-Book Offer Here!

You can read more of
Steven Clark Bradley's
work at any of these blogs
listed below:

On President's Day, What Do We Celebrate?

2010-02-15T01:00:00.000-08:00

My Definition of the the modern

American Presidency

"An office sought and achieved by a candidate according to the rules set out in the US Constitution who, once elevated to high office, proceeds to ignore, disavow, repudiate, deviate from and misappropriate the powers and limitations prescribed, declared and demanded therein."
-Steven Clark Bradley

Here are the well-written words from an email of one of my friends on Face Book and my response. Please read them from my friend and myself and consider both points of view.

Email: You have every right to your opinion, but I have the right to reject your Anti-American revolutionary babble. Your citations and quotes couldn't be less applicable to a great man, a man who has done everything possible to bring jobs back to a brutal economy. The administration he inherited - the tyrant known as Bush between his illegal war-mongering, and his use of the 4th amendment as toilet paper as privacy and rights from unreasonable searches were crushed - you want to vent, there's your boy. Even just after leaving Office - Bush is considered one of the top five worst president's of all time. Furthermore, your beef with our association with China is about 30 years too late as we have been a slave to their cheap goods and labor decades before Mr. Obama came to office. We may be struggling, but we are still the greatest country on the face of the earth. Unlawful, unjustified revolution is not the answer to your issues....have patience.

My Response: So, you consider Bush a tyrant, and I see Obama as one. Are we not both exercising our civil and devinely inspired right to freedom of speech? So, I applaud your very vibrant and and hearty response to what I believe to be a man determined to destroy the nation.

I am not a Bush supporter either. Yet, I will say to you, it is not Anti-American to say your mind and to speak what you regard to be the truth. In contrast, it is un-American though to condemn those who do. I celebrate your speaking out as you see it, please celebrate my right to do the same. Greatness is a very relative term. There are those today who regard Jesus as a savior and Lord of Creation, as i do. There are still those who praise Hitler for his exploits in evil. Though viewing Hitler in any light other than evil is to praise a devil, everyone has the right to think what they want and say what they believe.

You regard Obama as a hero, and that is your right to feel so. Though I may regard you visually impaired and logically challenged in your perspective and your rationale for it, it remains your right to think so and to say so as you please. In fact, I may not agree with your view of Obama or Bush, but I would lay down my life to defend your right to believe it. For such descent is the essence of freedom itself.

So, you should not get upset when someone attacks your beloved leaders. It happens to me everyday. Instead, you should thank God we can still muster the courage to stand up, speak up and never shut up! I hope you also will never cease to say what you think.

In our own special way, you and I are keeping Liberty alive. But, if we shut up or are forced to keep quiet, that we in our own way will have helped bring the American experience to an end. Thank you for telling me what you think. I think you are a great American!

Steven Clark Bradley

I Do Solemnly Swear...

That I will faithfully execute The office of President of the United States...

and will to the best of my ability...

Preserve...

Protect...

and Defend...

The Constitution of
the United States...

So, help me God...

Want to Read A Great Book?

Have you ever felt that the world was guided in ways that are beyond man’s control? The constant changes in the world since the time of Nimrod 4000 years ago until today and all the events that have shaken the world have been to bring the universe back into the hands of the Prince of Darkness, Lucia, a world that he had ruled with his Watchers before it was all ripped from his grasp when man was created. Nimrod Rising paints a diabolical picture of how the Prince of Darkness executes his evil plot to take the world back by force and destroy civilization in the process. From the Great Builder Nimrod in 4000 BC to today, 666 generations later, you can ride the storm of Nimrod Rising and experience the death of a world and the birth pangs of another. You will swear it is really upon us!

amazon.com barnesandnoble.com bordersstores.com booksamillion.com powells.com copperfields.com

Watch Nimrod Rising Video Trailer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sKHofQi2pRI

You can read more of Steven Clark Bradley's work

at any of these blogs listed below: