Following the footsteps of Horatio Hornblower and Jack Aubrey, whose ripping adventures capture thousands of new readers each year, comes the heir apparent to the mantle of Forester and O'Brian: Dewey Lambdin, and his acclaimed Alan Lewrie series.
In this latest adventure Lewrie is promoted for his quick action in the Battle of Cape St. Vincent, but before he's even had a chance to settle into his new role, a mutiny rages through the fleet, and the sudden reappearance of an old enemy has Lewrie fighting not just for his command, but for his life.
"A rip-roaring sea yarn brimming with riveting action and lusty diversions." - Booklist
About the Author
Dewey Lambdin is the author of eight previous Alan Lewrie novels. A member of the U.S. Naval Institute and a Friend of the National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, England, he lives in Nashville, Tennessee.
Read an Excerpt
Off Jester's lee bow, down to the Sou'east, there were about eight or nine Spanish ships of the line, with accompanying frigates, and coming up slowly to merge with another pack. And that pack, Good God! Seventeen, at the last, tall-sided, ugly brutes there were; two-decker 68's, 74's and 80-gunners; some of them 3-deckers, and one monstrous 4-decker flying more admiral's flags than sail-canvas, it seemed. And so stuffed with guns that every time she lit off a broadside, it looked like a mountain blowing up!
"I can make out, sir..." Lt. Ralph Knolles attempted to say, as he took off his hat and swiped both forearms of his coat at his hair and brows. A bad sign, that; usually, one nervous hand over his blonde locks was sufficient sign of nervousness.
"Aye, Mister Knolles?" Commander Alan Lewrie replied, sounding almost calm in comparison.
"Beyond, sir." Knolles pointed towards the Spanish fleet. "It may not be a convoy. About eight or nine more rather large ships over yonder...to the West-Nor'west. Do they all assemble, sir...Well!"
"Two-deckers, d'ye think, sir? Lewrie frowned, stepping to the starboard side of his quarterdeck, leaning on the bulwarks, and raising his telescope for a look-see.
"Cah-rrisstt!" Was Lewrie's sudden, un-captainly comment. And a rather loud comment it was, too.
In his telescope's ocular, he'd just discovered the fore-end of a ship of the line which wasn't crossing right-to-left, sailing obediently in the battle-line. He was looking at the beak-head and figure-head, the cutwater and frothing bow-wave below an out-thrust bowsprit and jib-boom of a warship - pointing right at him!
Table of Contents
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
OK, as far as the novel itself, it's very good - couldn't put it down, really, though the very beginning, Chapter One, seemed a bit abrupt. Any fan of the series will be more than entertained. Turns out there's a reason for that early abruptness. The text for the prolog comes at the very END of the book in the afterward! Came upon it and thought I was maybe reading a teaser for the next book in the series before realizing what I was stumbling into. So out of curiosity I immediately downloaded the next book in the series, AND IT'S THE SAME THING! In this case, though, the prolog text seems to be missing entirely, or at least I couldn't find it after a quick search. We're still trying to figure out how to produce ebooks, aren't we!
Killick appears to be correct; the 19-page "prologue" appears immediately following the afterward at page 367. There's really no excuse for this on the publisher's part...simply sloppy work with little to no attention to a simple detail such as putting the pages in sequential order. Disappointing. I'll continue slogging through the series, even so, as I enjoy the period setting and (generally) have liked the author's other work. On the weird off chance that Mr. Lambdin ever cruises by here: please, for the love of God, sir, stop writing foreign accented English in phonetic pidgeon. I can only take so much stuff like, "He egsblains vhy de big ships vit rich gargoes do not appear...", before I start skipping whole sections of dialogue. All his foreign characters remind me of Fabio hawking margerine: "I conned beleev id snot bawtter". Gee, maybe I can be a professional writer too...
This is Horatio Hornblower meets Harry Flashman. Going to get more of these