T-38 Talon

After some test readers commented on my novel Awol 21, I have been writing a new final chapter.  I was stuck for a month, couldn’t write the first sentence, until today.  Now I know what that final chapter is, and it’s perfect.  I have aquired the right to use the cover art work, and should have this project wrapped up and for sale in two weeks.

If you are or ever were a military aviator, you will enjoy this unique story.  If not, you might not understand everything, but the life the story portrays is authentic, and you will enjoy the ride.   Coming to you soon, via Amazon, Kindle, and Nook.

We called her the white rocket, and for many of us, she was our first true love.  She was sleek, sexy, and fast.  When you climbed the ladder into her cockpit, wearing a flight suit, g-suit, parachute, and helmet, and strapped into her, you were tense with apprehension, sweaty with fear, brain buzzing with procedures, excited with anticipation.  We also privately called her a bitch and a whore, because she could kill you, too. When you rolled her over on her back and pulled her nose down and shoved her throttles into afterburner, you’d be supersonic in a couple of seconds.  As we said, she flew like a bat out of hell.