Harold Reginald Peat
1 Published Story
Harold Reginald Peat's Book and Story
Private Peat
Young Adult Harold Reginald Peat (July 12, 1893 – 1960) was a Canadian soldier and author. Born in Jamaica, and emigrated to Toronto with his mother, Peat was educated privately and at boarding school in Kingston, Jamaica. He served as a private in the 3rd Battalion of the First Canadian Contingent during WWI. He was hit by an explosive bullet and lost his right arm. While recuperating in a hospital, he became pen-mate with Louisa Watson Small, a British writer. Louisa Watson Small was born in Keady, Armagh, Ireland and educated at Queens College, Belfast and the University of London. In August 1916 they married. Louisa helped Harold write Private Peat (1917), a memoir of his experiences during World War I and after. He described himself as an ardent Prohibitionist but in the book he said he did not think the rum ration controversially issued to Canadian troops was dangerous. The book was on the New York Times bestseller list in 1918 and 1919. (Excerpt from Wikipedia) You might like
Obsession (Tonight we are young)
bebeeizrael Her nipples tuck at the slim silk as she bounced close to him.
Wrong move!!
He didn't try to move back, he just stood still as he felt something growing rapidly in his zipper area. He swore softly as she angrily tuck her stray hair behind her ears breathing heavily.
"Are you fucking listening?" She yelled, "Oh! You gat to be kidding me, you break into my apartment, went to my kitchen, maybe went through my stuff, and now! YOU.ARE. FUCKING. LOOKING. LIKE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL I'M SAYING!".
Williams didn't flinch, he moved closer swiftly, it almost look supernatural. If they had a third party the person would have vouch Melissa was the person who moved.
Weird!
Seconds ago she was a few meters away yelling at him, but there she stood, wrapped in his strong arms. For what felt like an eternity she didn't want to move, there was no possible reason why she felt safe and super wet but she still prefer to be a bitch for a second or more.
It wasn't until Williams smashed his lips on hers in a devouring kiss! He smiled on her lips as she flinched and struggled to pull out but he held her firm, kissing her passionately, kissing her as he had never kissed before. Brave Tom; Or, The Battle That Won
Edward Sylvester Ellis On a certain summer day, a few years ago, the little village of Briggsville, in Pennsylvania, was thrown into a state of excitement, the like of which was never known since the fearful night, a hundred years before, when a band of red men descended like a cyclone upon the little hamlet with its block-house, and left barely a dozen settlers alive to tell the story of the visitation to their descendants. Tom Gordon lived a mile from Briggsville with his widowed mother and his Aunt Cynthia, a sister to his father, who had died five years before. The boy had no brother or sister; and as he was bright, truthful, good-tempered, quick of perception, and obedient, it can be well understood that he was the pride and hope of his mother and aunt, whose circumstances were of the humblest nature. He attended the village school, where he was the most popular and promising of the threescore pupils under the care of the crabbed Mr. Jenkins. He was as active of body as mind, and took the lead among boys of his own age in athletic sports and feats of dexterity.