Adventure Magazine Covers and Short Stories

Each of these Adventures started with my morning cup of coffee and Its telltale Coffee Ring footprint, so I thought my Adventure Book Cover and Logo should represent that connecon.

Ad·ven·ture : noun

An unusual and excing, typically hazardous, experience or acvity.

Recommendaon:

If you're looking for a thrilling and acon-packed adventure story, then look no further than The Series-1 Adventure Magazine Cover Collecon. Each story in this collecon is wrien in the style of Ernest Hemingway, and captures the excitement and danger of the early 20th century.

Whether you're a fan of Hemingway's classic works or simply looking for a great adventure story, you'll find plenty to love in this collecon. From the vivid descripons of exoc locales to the heart-pounding acon scenes, these stories will keep you on the edge of your seat from start to finish.

But what really sets this collecon apart is the stunning cover illustraons that accompany each story. These illustraons capture the spirit of the era and the excitement of the stories themselves, transporng readers to a me when the world was full of adventure and anything was possible.

In the tradion of adventure storytelling that defined the early 20th century, The Series-1 Adventure Magazine Cover Collecon brings to life a series of 100 thrilling short stories in the style of Ernest Hemingway. These stories will transport readers back to a me when the world was filled with danger and excitement, and when men and women pushed themselves to their limits in search of adventure.

Each of the stories in this collecon is accompanied by a stunning cover illustraon from an original ‘Adventue Magazine’ in which they first appeared, capturing the spirit of the era and the excitement of the stories themselves. From the jungles of South America to the deserts of the Sahara, and from the depths of the ocean to the heights of the Himalayas, these tales will keep readers on the edge of their seats and leave them wanng more.

Whether you're a longme fan of adventure ficon or a newcomer to the genre, The Series-1 Adventure Magazine Cover Collecon is a must-read for anyone who loves a good tale of danger and daring.

I am certain you will at least find them entertaining.

Edward Rogers - COFFEE RING ADVENTURES 2023

#1 - Winner Takes All

The sun beat down on the sandy beach, casng shadows against the sand. Two pirates stood facing each other, their eyes locked in a deadly stare. The chest of gold coins lay between them, gleaming in the aernoon sun.

Their knives glinted in the light as they circled each other, looking for an opening. The air was thick with tension, and the only sound was the distant cry of seagulls.

One pirate lunged forward, his knife flashing through the air. The other pirate dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade. They connued to dance around each other, their movements quick and precise.

As the fight wore on, the sun began to dip lower in the sky. The pirates grew more and more exhausted, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Blood trickled down their arms and legs, staining the sand beneath their feet.

Finally, with a swi and deadly strike, one of the pirates landed a blow on the other. The defeated pirate fell to the ground, clutching his chest as blood poured out between his fingers.

The victor stood over him, breathing heavily. He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down at the chest of gold coins. With a smile on his face, he lied the lid and gazed upon his treasure.

But as he reached in to take a handful of coins, he heard a faint whisper behind him. He turned around to see the defeated pirate, his knife raised high. With a snarl, he lunged forward, ready to take revenge.

The victor spun around, his own knife flashing in the air. In a blur of moon, they clashed once again. But this me, the victor was ready. He landed blow aer blow on the defeated pirate, unl finally, he fell to the ground, his body limp and lifeless.

The victor stood over the two bodies, panng heavily. He looked down at the chest of gold coins, now covered in blood. And for a moment, he felt a pang of regret.

But then he shrugged it off and lied the chest onto his shoulder. He turned and walked away from the beach, disappearing into the distance with his hard-won treasure.

The sailor was wrapped ght in the rigging, his body a tangled mess as the broken yard dragged him and the ship down into the depths of the sea. The other sailors scrambled to save their mate, but me was running out.

The captain called for his sharpest knife and ordered two brave men to cut the tangled mess away from the sailor before it was too late. With steady hands, they sliced through the thick ropes and freed their comrade from the deadly embrace of the rigging.

Gasping for air, the sailor was pulled back onto the ship, his body bruised and baered from the struggle. But he was alive, and the ship was saved.

As the crew worked to repair the damage and make their way back to port, the sailor lay below deck, his thoughts lingering on the fragility of life and the courage of his shipmates.

For in that moment, he had witnessed the true measure of a sailor's bravery – the willingness to risk everything for the sake of another, even if it meant facing death head-on. And though he had been saved, he knew that the memory of that harrowing experience would stay with him forever, a reminder of the dangers that lay ahead on every voyage into the vast and unpredictable sea.

- He Pegged The Model Ship

The pirate sat on the deck of his ship, his knife in hand, carefully carving away at the wooden peg that served as his leg. He worked methodically, shaving off small pieces of wood and seng them aside in a pile.

As he whiled, he hummed a tune to himself, a sea shanty he had learned long ago on another ship. He felt the warmth of the sun on his face and the salt spray of the ocean on his skin, and he felt content.

The other pirates on the ship watched him with amusement, some of them laughing and making crude jokes. But the pirate paid them no mind. He was focused on his work, on creang something beauful out of the rough wood of his peg leg.

Finally, aer several hours of carving, the pirate had created a small model sailing ship. It was a masterpiece of crasmanship, with ny ropes and rigging and delicate sails. The other pirates gathered around to admire it, their raucous laughter silenced by the beauty of the ny ship.

The pirate smiled, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. He had created something out of nothing, something that would bring joy and wonder to those around him.

And as he looked down at his peg leg, now whiled down to a stub, he knew that he would do it all over again. For there was nothing that brought him more pleasure than the act of creaon, of using his hands and his mind to make something new and beauful in the world.

The cowboy crouched behind a rocky outcropping, his revolver gripped ghtly in his calloused hand. The band of outlaws had caught up with him, and there was no turning back now. But even in the midst of a gunfight, the cowboy remained calm and collected.

With pracced ease, he pulled out a small n of tobacco and a paper. He rolled a cigaree with one hand, never taking his eyes off the outlaws who were advancing toward him. The tobacco fell from the n and scaered across the ground as the cowboy's fingers worked dely.

As the outlaws drew nearer, the cowboy struck a match and lit his cigaree. The smoke curled around his face as he took a deep drag, savoring the taste of the tobacco. He knew that this might be his last cigaree, but he refused to let the outlaws see him sweat.

The outlaws opened fire, their bullets whistling past the cowboy's head. He took cover behind the rocky outcropping and returned fire, his revolver barking in the sll air. The cigaree hung from his lips, forgoen for the moment.

The gunfight raged on, the sound of gunfire echoing through the rocky canyon. But even in the midst of the chaos, the cowboy remained cool and collected. He finished his cigaree and tossed the bu aside, then connued firing at the outlaws.

Finally, the outlaws were defeated. They lay dead or dying on the ground, their guns sll smoking. The cowboy stood up from behind the outcropping, his revolver sll in hand. He looked around at the carnage, then turned and walked away, his spurs jingling with every step.

#5 - Signaling Seaplane To Send Rescue

The sailor stood on the deck of the sinking ship, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of rescue. In the distance, he spoed a small seaplane circling overhead.

He knew he had to signal the plane, but the ship was rocking violently in the choppy sea. Undaunted, the sailor grabbed a rope and ed himself to the mast, bracing himself against the relentless waves.

With his free hand, he waved a red cloth, hoping to catch the aenon of the pilot. The wind whipped the fabric around his arm, but he held steady, determined to make his presence known.

The plane drew closer, and the sailor could see the pilot's face peering down at him. He gestured francally, poinng to the rapidly sinking vessel and signaling for help.

The pilot nodded, then flew off to summon assistance. The sailor watched him go, feeling a surge of relief knowing that his message had been received.

Despite the danger, the sailor remained ed to the mast unl the rescue ship arrived. He knew that he had done his duty, and that his bravery had saved countless lives.

As he was hoisted onto the rescue vessel, the sailor smiled grimly to himself. He had faced death head-on and emerged victorious, just as he knew he would.

Submariner Raises His Fist In Defiance Of The Destroyer

The submariner peered through the periscope, his eyes fixed on the enemy destroyer. It was a game of cat and mouse, and he was determined to come out on top. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he ploed his next move.

The destroyer was fast, and it was difficult to get a clean shot. But the submariner was paent. He knew that one wrong move could mean the end of his mission.

For hours, the two vessels danced around each other, neither one willing to make the first move. But the submariner was determined. He vowed to plant a torpedo in her side and bring down the destroyer.

As the sun began to set, the submariner spoed an opening. The destroyer had let its guard down, and he had a clear shot. He didn't hesitate. With a steady hand, he launched the torpedo.

For a moment, the world stood sll as the torpedo hurtled toward its target. And then, with a thunderous roar, the destroyer exploded.

The submariner watched in awe as the wreckage sank beneath the waves. He had done it. He had defeated the enemy and completed his mission.

But even as he basked in his victory, he knew that there would be other bales to fight. The war was far from over, and he was just a small part of a much larger conflict.

As he guided his submarine back to safety, the submariner couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. He had done his duty, and he had done it well. And as long as there were enemies to fight, he would be ready to answer the call.

Race to the Treasure And A Fight Of Your Life

The sun beat down on the calm waters of the Caribbean Sea as two salvage diving companies prepared to descend. One team, clad in white suits, represented the wealthy investors who had commissioned the search. The other, in green suits, were the scrappy upstarts trying to make a name for themselves.

Both teams had heard rumors of a sunken treasure ship in these waters, and each was determined to claim the spoils.

The divers descended, their helmets providing a steady stream of oxygen as they explored the ocean floor. It wasn't long before they stumbled upon a treasure trove of gold coins, glinng in the sunlight.

The white-suited divers began to celebrate, but their joy was short-lived. Suddenly, the green-suited divers pulled out a knife and a life-and-death fight broke out.

The two teams grappled in the water, their helmets clanging together as they fought for the treasure. The green-suited diver was desperate to claim the gold for his team, while the white-suited divers fought to keep it out of their hands.

In the end, it was the white-suited diver that emerged victorious. He had the strength to overpower the scrappy green-suited diver. But as he swam away with their treasure, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. he had won the gold, but at what cost?

The fight had taken a toll on both teams, and the underwater world around them had been disrupted by their struggle. It was a reminder that even in the deep, calm waters of the sea, there was always a potenal for violence and chaos.

As the white-suited diver surfaced and removed his helmet, he exchanged nervous glances with the crew. They had won the bale, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had lost something far more valuable in the process.

- Feathers Flying Out Of The Ring

The sun was seng over the city of New Orleans as two men, Jim and Bill, entered the dimly lit basement of an old building. The smell of cigaree smoke and sweat filled their nostrils as they made their way to the center of the room where a large ring was set up.

Each man carried a small cage containing their prized rooster. Jim's rooster was a large, muscular bird with bright red feathers and a fierce expression. Bill's bird was smaller, but quicker and more agile, with dark, iridescent feathers that seemed to shi in the dim light.

The two men eyed each other warily as they set their cages down on opposite sides of the ring. They had come to gamble on a cock fight, a brutal and illegal sport that was nevertheless popular in certain circles.

The crowd gathered around the ring, murmuring and shoung as the roosters were released from their cages. The birds immediately began circling each other, feathers puffed up and beaks clacking in challenge.

Jim and Bill watched intently as the birds clashed, feathers flying and claws slashing. Each man shouted encouragement to his bird, urging it on to victory.

For a me, the fight was evenly matched, with neither bird gaining a clear advantage. But as the minutes cked by, it became clear that Jim's rooster was ring. Its movements became sluggish and its aacks less aggressive.

Bill's rooster, on the other hand, seemed to be gaining strength and momentum. It darted in and out, pecking at its opponent's eyes and throat with lightning speed.

In the end, it was Bill's rooster that emerged victorious, its beak dripping with blood as it strued triumphantly around the ring. Jim's rooster lay sll and lifeless, its bright red feathers stained with gore.

The two men exchanged glances, each recognizing the other's disappointment and anger. They wordlessly gathered up their cages and made their way out of the basement, back into the bustling streets of New Orleans.

As they walked, neither man spoke, each lost in his own thoughts of what might have been. But despite their disappointment, they both knew they would be back again, drawn by the thrill of the fight and the chance to gamble on their beloved roosters once more.

The sailor sat in the dimly lit tavern, nursing a pint of ale and staring down at the intricate taoo on his chest. The lines of the clipper ship were sharp and precise, a testament to the skill of the taoo arst. The ship was surrounded by waves and the words "Homeward Bound" were wrien in bold, block leers underneath.

He had goen the taoo when he was just a young lad, fresh off the farm and eager to see the world. He had signed on to work aboard a clipper ship, drawn by the promise of adventure and the chance to make a name for himself.

The work had been hard, but he had learned quickly. He had climbed the ranks from a lowly deckhand to a trusted member of the crew. And as he had worked his way up, he had added to his taoo, each symbol and image represenng a new challenge overcome and a new lesson learned.

Now, years later, he sat alone in the tavern, the weight of his experiences heavy on his shoulders. He had seen the world, and it had been both beauful and cruel. He had faced down storms and pirates, baled seasickness and homesickness, and had come out the other side a different man.

But no maer where his adventures had taken him, his heart had always been set on one thing: home. He longed to see the rolling hills of his hometown again, to smell the fresh earth and feel the sun on his face. And so, he had wrien those two simple words beneath the ship on his chest: "Homeward Bound."

He took another sip of ale, feeling the warmth spread through his body. The tavern was quiet, save for the gentle hum of conversaon from the few other patrons. But in his mind, the sound of the waves crashing against the ship's hull was ever-present.

The sailor finished his pint, stood up, and le the tavern. He walked down to the dock, his steps slow and measured. As he looked out over the water, he felt a familiar ache in his chest. It was me to go home.

He boarded a ship, feeling the familiar pull of adventure and the call of the sea. But as the ship set sail, he knew that his heart was set on one thing and one thing only: to be homeward bound, to see the hills and feel the sun on his face once again.

The two ironworkers, Bill and Tom, were working high up on the Ben Franklin Bridge, overseeing the progress of their project. Bill was a seasoned veteran, with years of experience in his trade, while Tom was a younger man, sll learning the ropes.

One day, as they were checking the progress of their work, they got into a heated argument about how things were going. Bill was not sasfied with the pace of their work, and he blamed Tom for his lack of experience. Tom, on the other hand, felt that Bill was being too demanding, and that he was doing the best he could under the circumstances.

The argument escalated quickly, and soon the two men were shoung at each other, their voices echoing across the bridge. They exchanged insults and accusaons, each trying to prove his point.

At one point, Bill lunged at Tom, and they grappled for a few moments, their hard hats and tools falling to the ground. They struggled and fought, their muscles straining, unl finally they separated, both panng and sweang.

For a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other, their faces flushed with anger and exeron. Then Bill spoke, his voice low and gruff.

"I'm sorry, Tom. I didn't mean to get so worked up. We're both in this together, and we need to work as a team."

Tom nodded, sll catching his breath. "I understand, Bill. But we need to find a way to communicate beer, to make sure we're on the same page."

They both stood there for a few more moments, their eyes locked, unl finally they picked up their hard hats and went back to work, side by side, determined to finish the job they had started.