title: The Lost Sunset: A Story Of Love
author: F. G. Mansour
description: A light that continues to brighten, F. G. Mansour is a young poet and philosopher whose writing career began at the age of sixteen. Being shy and a reluctant reader, his life changed with the opening of one book, which set the course of the journey that has allowed you to open this book. Raised in Fountain Valley, California, Mansour is the youngest of two children and a devoted family man. At the age of eighteen, he finished writing his first book, an arrangement of original poetry about living an inspired life. He is currently a student at UC Berkeley and plans to attend law school soon. With the goal of writing prose that inspires others, F. G. Mansour's original work will be spinning the hearts of a whole new generation to live a whole new life. Through his writing and public speaking, he is already an agent for positive change; his life and words are a force that are sure to make you contemplate your concept of truth, examine your awareness of self, and extract dormant emotions, granting you the permission and possibility to love more and love fully.
zlib_text: **TWELVE CHINAMEN**
  
   **AND A WOMAN**
  
   **JAMES HADLEY CHASE**
  
  Only one man could satisfy Glorie Leadler's craving for love and affection.
  And though this golden-haired bit of feminine dynamite could have had a dozen
  men at her feet for the asking, it was a solitary Oriental who made her heart
  beat fast. When jealous rivals tore that midnight love from Glorie's arms, her
  over-heated emotions burst forth in a volcano of love-stricken vengeance that
  rocked Florida and left a mark on many men's souls.
  
  The characters of this novel are entirely fictional and any resemblance to
  actual persons or situations is accidental.
  
    
    
  
  **I**
  
    
    
  FENNER opened one eye as Paula Dolan put some elegant curves and her fluffy
  head round his office door. He regarded her vaguely, and then settled himself
  more comfortably. His large feet rested on the snowy blotting-pad, and the
  swiveled desk chair inclined perilously at an angle of 45°. He said sleepily,
  “Run away, Dizzy, I'll play with you later. Rig