Blood Ties

by Warren Adler

Overview

An arms-dealing family confronts a moral dilemma in the nuclear age.

During a family reunion at their ancestral castle, the famed Von Kassel family - arms dealers for over a hundred years - suddenly find themselves in possession of stolen plutonium capable of creating the most destructive weapon on earth.

Previously aloof from the moral implications of their business, the family is torn apart by the deadly potential of their recent acquisition. Family conflicts are ignited that had long been avoided in order to maintain solidarity and the insulation of wealth and power.

Through fascinating and startling familial relationships, the reader is drawn into the web of power and intrigue that motivates people who once believed they were above moral or ethical considerations.

The reviews are in for Blood Ties!

"Mr. Adler... is more than capable of fashioning truly riveting tales of suspense and intrigue." - King Features Syndicate

"Gripping."- Asheville Citizen-Times

"Pride, ambition and ethics are involved in this highly readable novel."- Pensacola News

"Another superb mystery fiction book."- Daily Press, Newport News, VA

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781532982347
Publisher:	CreateSpace Publishing
Publication date:	06/28/2016
Pages:	362
Product dimensions:	5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x 0.81(d)

Read an Excerpt

Spears of orange from the morning sun poked through the patches of mist that clung to the mountain peaks. From his poor vantage in the speeding Daimler, Albert von Kassel waited for the castle’s watchtower to appear. Beside him Dawn dozed, her head resting on the red velvet pillow that Garth had provided after he had tucked away their baggage. Now Garth’s bovine bulk in the front seat created further obstructions to the impending view. It was there, up there, Albert knew, waiting for the car to reach just the right position. “Slower,” Albert commanded, replicating his father’s inflection. It was not arrogance, merely the standard way of communication. Garth understood orders. He had been with the SS. Albert waited, squinting. The change in the Daimler’s rhythm stirred Dawn. She mumbled something, then burrowed deeper into the pillow. She disliked annoyances that affected sleep, and Albert had quickly rejected the notion to shake her awake. He no longer felt a compelling need to share with her. More and more experiences, thoughts, were private. They hung together now by inertia, although it was too cruel an idea for him to impart directly. Not yet. He had been feeling vaguely annoyed for a long time now, the impending reunion only increasing his agitation. All those long memories to be confronted. That Teutonic obsession. “There,” he pointed, as if it were a child’s discovery. He felt an odd ripple in his heartbeat, a familiar clutch in his throat. Garth nodded and he could see the lips curl faintly on the old retainer’s face, a shadow of a smile. Poking above the mist, he saw the watchtower of the citadel, stabbing intothe sun’s orange shower, deflecting rays on the ancient stone surface. Above the watchtower, plumed on its metallic staff, he could see the rippling banner, a field of white on which were emblazoned the markings of the Teutonic Order. They were still miles from the castle. But what was seen could raise the adrenalin, involve the living blood. Never mind that it was all a contrivance now. Never mind that the citadel with its bastions, ramparts, allures, baileys and barbicans, was only a prop for tourists to stimulate historical fantasies. Never mind that it was, after all, merely a hotel. “Damn, it’s beautiful,” he mumbled. Despite himself, he could not resist the historical magnetism. It was built nine hundred years ago by the Knights of the Teutonic Order, a von Kassel among them. A hundred years later the Knights moved eastward, bringing their version of a zealous God with them, determined that the primitive innocents in their acquisitive path would submit their minds, and lands, to the Knights’ enlightenment. They did, not quite graciously, and they gave the Germans their “Ostland.”