Book Blitz: Engines of Liberty by Graham Bradley

Graham Bradley is a truck driver by trade, but has been
writing since age eight, thanks to the encouragement of a childhood teacher,
Mrs. Peplowski.
Likewise, his grandmother made him promise to
“do something” with his knack for drawing, so he illustrates as well.

He is fluent in Spanish, and knows the proper
method of ironing a dress shirt. Despite spending less than 6 hours of his
entire life in Indianapolis, the Colts are his team.

He lives in Henderson, Nevada, with his wife and
sons.

 

Connect with the Author here: 

REBEL HEART
In 1776, the American rebels were thwarted by British magic. The leaders were executed, but the surviving soldiers went into hiding and kept the revolution alive. By 1984 they have developed better weapons and machinery to even the odds. Now all these “technomancers” need is an army for their arsenal, and their newest recruit is 15 year-old Calvin Adler of Baltimore. The problem is, he’s got a pretty strong will, and might give the technomancers at bit of trouble in training… 

SUICIDE RUN
Calvin learns that the technomancers aren’t all good guys like he’d thought, and soon runs afoul of the worst of them. Now, with a bomb in his chest and a lot of ground to cover, he has a little over a week to save his life, or else become another casualty in the revolution. Meanwhile, an old enemy comes back stronger than ever, with ambition to spare…
 

PATRIOT’S GAME
Calvin is on the brink of death. The army is scattered, the commodore is dead, and the British mages know about the technomancers’ secret weapon. Just as all hope seems lost, Calvin and his friends find out the mages have a weakness, one that could end the war overnight and liberate the colonials.
But it will take a miracle to reach it…
 

 

 

 

Snippet:
 
(Calvin is trapped in a burning house, surrounded by
mages.)
 
Think, think, think!
Sweat.
Cloth. Layers. Damn it all, the jacket wouldn’t cover him forever. Water! Was
there any water in the kitchen?
The
wash basin! Mother kept a barrel full of water in the kitchen and emptied it
once a week. It would be dirty. But it would also be water.
Wool
would soak up water like a sponge, if he could remove his coat. It clung to
him, having absorbed his sweat. Maybe he could tip the barrel over himself? Too
heavy, he might waste it.
Think! Come ON!
The
tablecloth! It was heavier, thicker than his coat, and likewise made of wool.
It was the one family heirloom that his parents had brought from Europa before
getting married in Meryka. Calvin grabbed a handful of the cloth, balled it up
and dunked it in the barrel.
Hotter.
Smokier. Harder to breathe…
When
he could stand it no longer, he tugged the heavy cloth out and draped it over
himself. The steam and smoke smothered what little air there was left. Now or
never, do or die.
Gritting
his teeth, he raised himself to a crouch and aimed at what he hoped was the
remains of the back wall; it was impossible to see or make sense of his
surroundings. He looked straight ahead and ran for it, and when he sensed that
he was going to hit something, he
shifted and put his shoulder into it, bracing for the worst.
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