The Shang Pirate Legacy: The 21st Century “Battle For Boss” of the 18th Century Pirate Triad of The Historical Chinese Junk Ning Po [Paperback]

Jerry Ardolino (Author)

Editorial Reviews

Review

THE SHANG PIRATE LEGACY...Jerry Ardolino knows violence first hand and writes it well. You'll find this an exciting read. -- Jerry Ahern - Gun World Magazine

Jerry Ardolino...articulate...intense...His new novel, The Shang Pirate Legacy is a crime thriller that ranges from Oriental antiquity to the 21st century. -- Las Vegas Weekly

About the Author

Jerry Ardolino, author of the fact-based fiction: THE SHANG PIRATE LEGACY also writes non-fiction, true crime. His first book: EXTREME COP: CHICAGO PD was shown and quoted in the editorial section of PLAYBOY and has received numerous reviews and publicity. THE SHANG PIRATE LEGACY is Jerry s first fictional novel.




Jerry is well-qualified to write a novel about triad gangs, violence and global crime and as you will see herein: he is a true renaissance man and possesses something every writer of fiction needs: first-hand knowledge and experiences in many facets of different ways of life.




Jerry is an Ex-Chicago Police Officer who served approximately 5 years in the Chicago Police Department. He had the wildest, most violent career in the history of that which means, he s the wildest, most violent cop in the history of the world.




Jerry graduated the Chicago Police Academy in 1973, attended Chicago City College on a U.S. Department of Justice grant studying Behavioral Science and Law and graduated the nationally recognized combined Police



Science/Criminology Program of the Chicago Police Training Division and Northwestern University. And there is a lot more to this author than knowing how to handle blue steel, rough-up tough criminals, fast-swing a baton and a wheel a fast squad car. While on the department he became an arms and munitions dealer as well as a police and military leathergoods manufacturer. His business grew to large proportions in the first six months and he made the decision to leave the department. He branched off into the western leather business shortly thereafter and in the 1980s formed a separate company dealing in antiques, rare books, antique, swords, and continuing a tradition: fine jewelry. He is a recipient of the prestigious GIA Diamonds Certificate

Product Details

• Paperback: 316 pages
• Publisher: Xlibris Corporation (October 11, 2007)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1425776213
• ISBN-13: 978-1425776213
• Product Dimensions: 9 x 6 x 0.7 inches
• Shipping Weight: 1.2 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 1.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (1 customer review)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #2,894,283 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

1.0 out of 5 stars Rather than offering my own review..., February 1, 2012

By 

AndMyDog (Oakland, CA, USA) - See all my reviews

This review is from: The Shang Pirate Legacy: The 21st Century “Battle For Boss” of the 18th Century Pirate Triad of The Historical Chinese Junk Ning Po (Paperback)

I'm going to provide some excerpts from the first chapter, and let potential buyers make their own choice as to whether this is a book they want to add to their libraries or not.
All language choices and punctuation are verbatim:

The old man's eyes were looking upward as he blinked them almost prayerfully, trying to get rid of the tears of sweat that filled them and the terror that filled the inside of his body. He blinked them again, trying to trail more sweat from his brow, around his eyelids and down weathered cheeks that had been aged from decades of the cold winds and hot rains that sweep across the rivers of China. The terror outside his body had left for a few seconds but now it was back.

The old man's blinking slowed as he saw it return, standing a few feet in front of him. His neck muscles tightened and he started sweating more heavily as he looked at that terror: the handsome, dark, young Asian man with the matrix of scars cut into the left side of his face. The scars, a square grid of complex slashings, showing starkly white against deeply-tanned skin, stretched taut over chiseled cheekbones.

The young Asian, flashed a cruel smile at the old man showing perfect, white teeth that contrasted with the gleaming blackness of his roughly-spiked crew cut which, matched the darkness of his eyes. But the eyes only matched the black of his hair not the gleam. His eyes showed only deadness; two black-fire marbles, menacing and piercing into the old man with their steady stare.

The old man breathed deeply and glanced down at the desk he was seated in front of and straining to lean over; bound at the wrists by coarse, sisal rope to a low straight-backed wooden chair. He surveyed every inch of the desk that was in his field of view; ornately-carved, solid ivory with its worn, red leather top. And as the sweat drizzled off each cheek, he tried to see all of the drops as they hit the stained leather, missing a few as they did, but hearing the hit surprisingly loud and sharp.

The old man took a deep breath again and coughed up a devilish-looking substance, spitting it on the floor. The taste in his mouth: bitter and strong from the stench-ridden air and sea breeze that was pushing into the large room that the two men were in. And then he looked up again, not blinking anymore but wearing a wide-eyed stare; looking at the face of Teng Tai Fu---which in Chinese means "Flying Dragon Typhoon"---the terror known throughout China, the Pacific Rim and in Chinatowns around the world as "Tommy Ten" the acting lao da or "gangster leader" of the Yellow Dragon Ning Po triad: the oldest, most feared and most powerful triad in the world.

[...]

In Mandarin, Tommy asked the old man, "Where did the crate go?"

The old man's eyes drifted away from the Komodo's black eyes and focused on Tommy's even blacker eyes, which somehow seemed more deadly and reptilian than the great lizard's.

The old man answered in English, "I do not know!"

Tommy Teng leaned forward and from under the desk, produced a sword of the dao type---slightly curved and razor sharp---slamming it down horizontally in front of him. And then in English, Tommy asked, as he leaned in close to the old man through what was still a slight smile, "Where is it, old man? I want to know if it left Hong Kong and if so, how it left Hong Kong and when and at which seaport or airport it is to arrive at."

"Honestly, I do not know. I was only given to---paper written in English with---with---address. I only speak some English---understand---some English. I do not to read English---good. I give paper at Pearl Flower Shipping Company on Hong Kong---they prepare crate to shipment. It is gone," answered the old man as he looked at Tommy's face, so close to his that the old man thought he could almost feel a force of some kind emanating from the scarred, handsome mask of evil flesh. The scars were telling the old man something. He focused on Tommy's scars and realized they weren't random cuts; they were Chinese calligraphy characters. His eyes narrowed as he began to read them.

Tommy stopped smiling. He knew the old man was telling the truth. He stood up and swung his arm in a backhand motion with lightening speed as he said in almost a whisper, "You're gone!"

The sword flashed for less than a second in a wide downward arc from Tommy's left to his right following through after slicing through the old man's neck and splitting his spinal cord. Tommy watched the head fell off and to the deceased old man's left, the result of the tremendous force with which the slightly angular cutting blow had been delivered. He looked at the headless body still seated in the chair become a slow-trickling blood fountain; the neck oozing the thickening fluid on to the shoulders for a few seconds. Tommy's eyes narrowed as he looked down at the head and he smirked noticing the look of terror in the severed head's eyes; the look that told Tommy that the lightening flash had been seen by the old man and the entrance of that blade's edge into his neck had been felt.