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Where Witch Birds Fly Paperback – December 30, 2006
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About the Author
Eugene Harkins is a lawyer and a Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Rutgers College with a B. A. in Latin American Civilization. He holds a J.D. from Rutgers School of Law and an Advanced degree in International, Foreign and Comparative law from New York University. He began his legal career with the State Department, then joined Gulf Oil Company Latin America as a staff attorney. He then became head of the international law department of a Miami law firm. Later, he returned to corporate practice as General Counsel of Texaco Latin America/West Africa. He has worked and traveled in some sixty-five countries, and is multicultural and multilingual (Spanish, Portuguese and Russia).
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The wind and rain pelted the DC10 as it continued its rapid descent. Richard White felt a sharp pain in both ears and swallowed hard. He fidgeted in his window seat then checked his watch5:25. "What time are we due?" he asked, turning to his seatmate. "Half past five," responded the balding, thin-lipped man. His name was Youssef Abboud. He was the Managing Director of a local bankall of which Richard had learned when theyd introduced themselves and exchanged business cards in London. Two deafeningly loud thunderclaps exploded all around them, and a fiery flash of lightning shot through the first-class cabin. Richard peered out the window, looking for some sign of the ground below. But there was nothing but swirling dark storm clouds and the heaviest rain hed ever seen. "Dat was too close fo comfort," said a fat black man sitting across the aisle, nervously mopping his brow with a checkered handkerchief. "We soon be on di ground," said his seatmate, a nattily-dressed little black man with a gold Rolex watch. Earlier in the flight, the banker had told Richard that the man was none other than the Minister of Finance. The storm raged, and the jumbo jet shuddered like a childs kite on a blustery day. Richard felt his heart skipping a beat, then another and another in rapid succession. He grimaced. It felt like his chest was about to explode. Both his cardiologist and his analyst had told him not to worry. It was purely psychosomatic, theyd assured him. Theyd further explained that what he felt wasnt skipped beats but rather extra beatsextra systolic beats to be exact. And a hell of a lot of good that did him now, he thought, as he began to tremble. He wondered whether his fellow passengers were also frightened, and glanced around the first-class cabin. The pretty English woman one row back definitely looked scared. The bearded man in front, an Israeli diamond dealer whom hed met before take-off, appeared shaken as he shifted nervously in his seat and gazed out the window. The two black men across the aisle gesticulated and chattered nervously. Only the banker appeared calm. The thunder boomed and the lightning flashed. The cabin filled with a sickening smell reminiscent of singed hair. Suddenly, the rain turned to hail, pummeling the outer skin of
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A marvelous story, well researched and well written. I enjoyed it most thoroughly. It drew me in, giving me a feeling of being a part of the narrative and for me that has always been the hallmark of a good story.
I look forward to reading his next novel.