Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series [1-3] - John Ellsworth - [EPUB][N27]seeders: 0
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Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series [1-3] - John Ellsworth - [EPUB][N27] (Size: 1.28 MB)
DescriptionLegal Thriller: Michael Gresham: A Courtroom Drama (Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series Book 1) by John Ellsworth English | EPUB | ISBN-10: 1530499011 | ISBN-13: 978-1530499014 January 20, 2016 | CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform   Thrillers & Suspense, Legal CONTENTS 51 Chapters Excerpt: FBI Special Agent Nathan Fordyce takes the witness stand, smiles at the judge and then frowns at me. I step up to the lectern. Fordyce’s eyes never move off of me. I am the lawyer who can speak black into white and night into day—Michael Gresham, consummate wordsmith. The other side of the equation is that Fordyce is the shooter you would want on your side in a firefight. His role is to send my client off to die with a needle in his skinny black arm. My role is to convince the jury that my client’s confession was coerced and that my client’s low IQ made it impossible for him to orchestrate the murder in the manner they claim. My heart goes out to this young client and his predicament. I can and will prove his diminished capacity during the course of the next several days while the jury listens and prepares to vote. "Mr. Gresham," the judge says with a note of impatience, "please proceed with your examination." It is the second time he has addressed me. Michael Gresham: Secrets Girls Keep (Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series) (Volume 2) by John Ellsworth English | EPUB | ISBN-10: 1530499127 | ISBN-13: 978-1530499120 March 9, 2016 | CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform   Thrillers, Legal CONTENTS 53 Chapters Excerpt: Outside of Grand Jury Room 204 in Chicago, in the nook just beyond the elevators, is a black leather bench where I practice law. That's how much the federal judiciary thinks of me and other defense lawyers who, it is foreseeable, would wait outside the grand jury room in order to help our clients formulate their answers to questions posited by the U.S. Attorney. The U.S. Attorneys get offices in this court building with windows that look down on the mere mortals below, a lordly view. We defense attorneys, by contrast, are given a public bench--one to share among us--maybe leather, probably naugahyde. Which is how criminal defendants and their attorneys are treated by the justice system. The worst of the worst, the crummiest of the crummiest, always second-rate for second-rate citizens. Even the cops get their own office. But am I bitter? You're damn right I am. Here's another thing as long as I'm making my case. I feel I am representing my client in the most half-assed way possible. He's under subpoena so he has to be inside the grand jury room with the grand jury. But I'm defense counsel so I'm not allowed to enter that sanctum. However, he has the right to come out into the hall and discuss questions and formulate answers with me. Which we're doing, one question at a time--which is also his right. Then he goes back inside and tells them what I think. How, you might wonder, would this be any different than me, Michael Gresham, being inside the grand jury room with him? The answer is that the identification of the grand jury is secret. If I were allowed inside, the rationale goes, the grand jury's anonymity might be compromised. So here I sit, tearing up the New York Times crossword, trying to flash on a four-letter word that means forlorn. Down? Might it be down? Surely it’s not that simple. It's from New York, after all, for the love of God. Michael Gresham: The Law Partners (Michael Gresham Legal Thriller Series Book 3) by John Ellsworth English | EPUB | ASIN: B01DRBA2RY May 7, 2016 | CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform  Thrillers, Legal CONTENTS 46 Chapters Excerpt: Johnny Washington hit the pipe and the crack bugs went crazy. He caught a glimpse of ragged fingernails flying to the skin on his arms. The nails flailed at the imaginary devils. He then shook like a wet dog. But the crack bugs were persistent. He set to raking his arms harder from his perch on the upturned milk crate. The day was bright and sunny on the streets of South Chicago, but here, in the alley behind the Quik Stop, time stood still and heavy shadows came tumbling from the clouds that seemed to hang everywhere. He didn't know it was all a crack dream--the bugs, the clouds, the feelings of pure heaven. He just took another hit. 50 Cent's syllables pounded up over the Quik Stop, floating in the air over Johnny's head, begging to be injected into the veins of the empty black teenager whose inner life was composed solely of feelings, rhyme without meaning. Sharing Widget |