Author Archives: Dana Griffin

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About Dana Griffin

Dana Griffin has been flying professionally for over thirty years, the last twenty for a major U.S. airline. Right up with his love of flying, is his passion for books. The four he has written, The Cover-Up, Coerced, Calamity, and Blamed are stand-alone airline thrillers. But, the reader would enjoy seeing how the two main characters grow and should read them in the order listed here. He lives in Kentucky with his wife, and two four legged children some people call dogs. When not flying, writing, or chasing after his grandchildren, he and his wife love to travel in their fifth wheel camper, hike, and remodel homes.

Interviewed by Douglas Wickard

I’m interviewed by the author of the thrillers, A Perfect Husband, A Perfect Setup, and Encounter, Douglas Wickard. Your can read the interview at: http://douglaswickard.blogspot.com/2014/02/up-close-personal-with-dana-griffin.html?showComment=1392926078037#c8264938390262789836

He asks me about the creative process and where my stories come from. We discuss my two books. Look for an interview of one of his protagonists here in the near future.

Thank you for the fun interview, Douglas.

Fantastical Reading Event, Day Four

A new author is featured on the eight day M. E. Lorde’s Fantastical Reading Event.

ImageToday’s author is Elyse Salpeter, author of thriller novels. Unfortunately I haven’t read the book sponsored here, yet. But I have read another of her novels, Flying to the Light, a young adult thriller. The plot of that story surprised me since Elyse is a mother. She put children into situations that had this adult squirming to get involved in the story and help the characters out. Children shouldn’t have to go through the  trauma and difficulties Elyse puts her characters through. The pace of her stories is fast, making this reader forget he should be getting ready to catch flight, or get some much needed sleep.

I have no doubt The Hunt for Xanadu is as enjoyable read as Flying to the Light. I look forward to reading it. You can learn more about Elyse, or follow her here:

Twitter: @elysesalpeter

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/elysesalpeter

Website: http://elysesalpeter.wordpress.com/

ImageThe Hunt for Xanadu-

Link http://ow.ly/sDBf7

Author Elyse Salpeter-

FANTASY/THRILLER

Twenty-two year old Kelsey Porter has dedicated her life to avenging the death of her parents, murdered in their quest to find the mystical land of Xanadu. Before she can locate the murderers, she has to discover their motives for the brutal crime and finds herself at the epicenter of a Buddhist mystery as old as time. With the help of her companion, Detective Desmond Gisborne, she hunts the killers across the globe and discovers a darkness in her spiritual past that tests the very limits of her soul. Soon she realizes that it is not she who is doing the hunting, but the one being hunted. Kelsey must find a way to survive, while ancient demons attempt to destroy her.

Fantastical Reading Event

Starting today, February 1st until February 8th, these writers are being presented on M. E. Lorde’s Fantastical Reading Event.

ImageThe author being sponsored today is Elise Stokes, author of three young adult superhero series, Cassidy Jones. I’ve read all three of her novels, Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula, Cassidy Jones and Vulcan’s Gift, and Cassidy Jones and the Seventh Attendant, and can’t wait for the fourth one to be released this year, Cassidy Jones and the Luminous. Although listed as young adult, any age reader would enjoy the antics Cassidy and her genius best friend Emery get into. Reading these books will deepen your smile and worry lines. There are some very tender scenes that’ll make you want to give Cassidy a hug. I hope you enjoy her books as much as I do.

Below is her bio, an excerpt from book one, and some reviews.>

Cassidy Jones Series

Elise Stokes cassidy jonesCassidy Jones and The Secret Formula

Elise Stokes lives with her husband and four children. She was an elementary school teacher before becoming a full-time mom. With a daughter in middle school and two in high school, Elise’s understanding of the challenges facing girls in that age range inspired her to create a series that will motivate girls to value individualism, courage, integrity, and intelligence. The stories in Cassidy Jones Adventures are fun and relatable, and a bit edgy without taking the reader uncomfortably out of bounds. Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula, Cassidy Jones and Vulcan’s Gift, and Cassidy Jones and the Seventh Attendant are the first three books in the series. Book Four, Cassidy Jones and the Luminous, will be released in 2014.

DescriptionCassidy Jones and The Secret Formula
One Girl. One Accident. One Incredible Superhero.  
     

Cassidy Jones is your typical fourteen-year-old– that is, until a seemingly harmless accident in the laboratory of a world-renowned geneticist turns her world upside down. 
Discovering incredible strength, speed, and enhanced physical senses that defy logic, Cassidy embarks on an action-packed adventure that has her fighting for answers…and for her very life.

Excerpt-

Chapter Nine: A New Friend

Summary: Cassidy takes Emery into her confidence.

We sat on opposite benches, our knees a foot apart. Emery watched me curiously while I considered how to start. I resorted to small talk. 

“Uh, Emery, so where do you live?”

“We rent a condo near Wallingford,” he answered patiently, making no attempt to elaborate. 

“Oh.” I touched my forehead. “Were you born in Seattle?”

“No, Washington, D.C.” Placing his forearms on his knees, he leaned forward. “How did you hurt your forehead?”

I dropped my hand. “Funny. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

Intently looking at my face, he waited for me to continue.

I touched my nose. “Before yesterday, I had freckles. They were light, but they were there.”

Narrowing his eyes on my nose, he attempted to decipher.

Taking a deep breath, I continued, “Sorry, that didn’t make any sense. Let me put it this way—I had freckles when I went to your mom’s lab with my dad.”

His expression became so intense, frightening almost, that I hesitated. My feelings about him were conflicted. He made me uneasy. Everything about him was so foreign.

Emery’s voice took on a soothing tone. “I understand that you injured your head in my mom’s lab. Please, tell me how. You can trust me. I want to help you.”

I searched his eyes. It was difficult to penetrate through the blackness, adding to my unease. “I don’t think you can.”

Impulsively, or maybe intentionally, he grabbed my hand, holding it between his. “Please, tell me,” he repeated.

I took another deep, tortured breath. “Your mom had something cooking in beakers on that Bunsen burner near the coffeemaker. While Dad interviewed her, I sat on a stool next to them. The stool collapsed and I fell, knocking everything over onto the table. When the liquids ran together, they formed this white cloud, and I breathed it in. It’s difficult to explain exactly what happened. My whole body felt like it was on fire, melting from the inside, and then everything went black. I guess I passed out or something. Afterward, I was…changed.”

“What do you mean by ‘changed’?” he asked, slowly and calmly, squeezing my hand.

Pulling my hand from his grip, I lifted it to my fore-head. “When I passed out, I hit my head on the edge of the counter. My forehead split, or at least, that’s what Dad and Ben said, and with all the blood, I don’t think they were wrong.” My fingers trembled against the gauze. “The doctor at the ER said it was only a surface wound. He thought Dad and Ben had been fooled by the blood, thinking it was worse than it really was. Heput a bandage over it and this gauze.”

Emery’s gaze fixed on my unsteady fingers, watching as I pinched the surgical tape and hesitantly pulled the gauze away, exposing my forehead. His eyes filled with disbelief.

“How did this happen, Emery?”

Shaking his head, his gaze dropped to his hands in his lap.

Quiet minutes ticked by. With each passing one, I sank deeper into despair. When I couldn’t take the silence anymore, I pleaded, “Please, Emery, say something.”

“Be patient. I’m thinking.”

“Well, think out loud.”

Smiling slightly cock-eyed, he said, “Trust me, you don’t want me to do that.”

Does he think this is a joke? Furious, I slapped the gauze on my forehead. “Trust you? Apparently that was a mistake.” Abruptly, I stood up, causing the swing to sway.

Emery commanded calmly.

Glaring, I sat. I had nowhere else to go.

“Trusting me is the right thing to do. Aside from my mom, I’m the only other person who understands anything of depth about Formula 10X.”

“Formula 10X?” I said with hope. “That’s what was in the beakers?” 

“Yes, or at least, a variation of it. I don’t know for certain, because she kept her latest experimentation with the formula undisclosed.”

“Why would she keep it a secret from you?” I asked, truly interested. 

He smiled to himself. “That’s the way she is. I assume she wanted to prove out her new theories before bringing me back in.”

Strange, I thought. He says this like he didn’t ask her about it. Why wouldn’t he ask? “Well, she did it. It works. I’m living proof she succeeded.”

“No, I don’t think she did,” he disagreed, sounding regretful. “How the formula has affected you would not have been her intention.” Pausing, he looked thoughtful. “However, it’s premature for me to come to that conclusion until I know precisely how you’ve been affected, or changed, as you put it. Tell me everything.”

“Everything” poured out at once. I ended my twenty-seven-hour saga with this: “At the police station, I thought you’d figured it all out. The way you looked at me all intense, it seemed like you guessed everything that was going on.”

Shaking his head, Emery smiled. “Though I admit I did find your behavior odd, I wouldn’t have guessed this in a million years.”

Despite the situation, I laughed. He found my behavior odd? I also thought the “million years” was an exaggeration. I had a feeling Emery wasn’t in the dark about anything for long. “Okay, now you know everything. What do you think?” Silence was his only response as he studied my face. His scrutiny reminded me of his mother’s—clinical, detached—like he observed me under a microscope. This was disturbing, to say the least. 

My brow furrowed. “Stop staring at me like that. I know I’m a freak.”

“Cassidy, you are not a freak,” he contradicted, his expression softening. “Don’t ever say or think that. I certainly don’t view you that way. I’m only astounded by how you’ve been affected. From a scientific perspective, it’s impossible.”

“It can’t be.” My eyes welled. “Look at me.”

Alert to the coming despair, Emery placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean we won’t find a solution. I promise you, we will.”

Emery spoke with such earnest confidence that I couldn’t help but believe him. Nodding agreement, I dabbed my wet eyes with my sleeve.

It a human recipient by choosing genes that represent different strengths of the nonhuman and infusing those genes into the weakened cells and tissues of the human. For example, a human who is crippled would perhaps be infused with puma genes, since they are known for their agility and strength. The goal is not to make the human like the puma, but to restore the human’s function and health within a normal range.”

“Well, why am I like a puma, then?”

“I don’t know exactly. Obviously, by your intense physical reaction when initially exposed, something in the formula overloaded your nervous system. Maybe 10X affected you so extremely because you’re a young, healthy girl who received the formula in its entirety. What I mean is, you would have never been a 10X candidate, since you suffer none of the disabilities and ailments an appropriate candidate would. Also, the recipient would have been administered the formula in small doses, tailored to their needs. Your exposure was radical, and now you’re experiencing the full potent affects of 10X. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “I think so. It’s like a glass half filled with water, slowly having more added until it reaches the rim. I was already a full glass, and 10X was an entire pitcher poured into me at once.” Dread brewed inside me as I continued. “And now that the water has spilled, there’s no way to tell where it will go or what will happen to it.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Emery said, dismally looking at the woods. For several seconds he didn’t speak, lost in thought.

During those quiet seconds, I stared at the ground, not thinking, only waiting. When I felt his eyes on my face, I looked up. His expression was determined.

“None of this makes sense, but obviously, it isn’t impossible. As you pointed out, you’re living proof. Since it isn’t impossible, there is an answer and solution. Tell me again, in detail, what you experienced when the liquids converged.”

Quickly, I explained again. Finishing the account, I held my breath expectantly.

Smiling slightly, he shrugged. “I have nothing.”

My breath rushed out in an offended gust. “What? Do you think this is a game or something?”

“No,” he quickly clarified. “I’m sorry, Cassidy, that came across as glib. I truly have nothing, and it frustrates me. I understand the compounds turned to a gas, but I have no idea why. And I have no idea what they formed or why your nervous system reacted so violently when you inhaled the gas. There has to be an unknown, a catalyst that pushed everything over the edge. What that catalyst is, again, I haven’t a clue…Cassidy, are you listening to me?”

Actually, I wasn’t. A black cat near the path leading to the woods had caught my eye. Low to the ground, it focused intensely on something in the tall grass. I recognized what it was doing because I had done it myself. The cat was hunting, stalking its prey. After commando-crawling toward its victim, it sank low in the grass, anticipating the kill. Opportunity arrived. Black fur gracefully glided through the air. The cat easily landed on the unfortunate victim: a brown field mouse.

I watched the cat excitedly toss the mouse in the air, remorselessly tormenting its victim. Dread slid through my stomach. “Emery, you mentioned pumas. Do you think there was cat DNA in that stuff I sucked in?”

Turning back to him, I saw that he had been watching the cat, too. He replied, “She experimented with feline DNA.”

I took this as a yes. Oh, geez.

“There is another thing I’ve noticed different about me,” I began hesitantly. Emery looked back at me, and I could feel my cheeks warm under his gaze. I really didn’t want to bring this up, but thought I should after what he witnessed at the sports field. “I don’t usually have meltdowns. I’m not one of those emotional girls… at least, I wasn’t…I have no idea why I started bawling like that.”

His response wasn’t hesitant at all. “The changes you’ve experienced are not only physical, but chemical, so it stands to reason you will be more prone to mood swings and extreme reactions. And it will be more difficult—how should I say it?—to shove feelings down.”

I stared at him in surprise. He had pegged me. I was the queen of shoving down unwanted feelings. “If you’re right, Emery, poor me—poor everyone.”

To this, he only smiled, and then said, “It’s about time you showed me what you can do.” Glancing across the sprawling lawn, his eyes settled on a couple lying together on the grass. They were far enough away that their facial features were indistinguishable. “Tell me about them.”

Rising to the challenge, I adjusted the couple until they appeared a few feet away. On their stomachs, they turned their heads in so they were nose to nose.

“Okay, the guy has shoulder-length, brown—”

Emery interrupted, squinting his eyes. “You’ll have to do better than that. Even I can see his hair.”

“Well, can you see he has a silver hoop through the right side of his bushy, black unibrow? And there’s a mole smack in the middle of his left cheek.” I grimaced. “Geez, he should have that removed. Okay, his girlfriend has multiple piercings. She looks like a pincushion. There are three small hoops through her left eyebrow. One. Two. Three. No, four diamond studs on the left side of her nose. Gross. A gold hoop hanging between her nostrils—”

With a look of distaste, Emery cut in. “You’ve convinced me with vision. All right, they appear to be talking. Can you hear what they’re saying?”

“No prob.” I smiled confidently, weeding through surrounding noise. After a moment, I tuned into the man’s husky whispers. “Okay, got them. He’s saying—” My jaw dropped. Immediately, I severed the connection, but not before turning bright red.

Emery laughed hysterically.

Still blushing, I watched him sternly. Every time he looked at me, he laughed harder. Child prodigy or not, ultimately, boys will be boys.

Taking a deep breath, he suddenly composed himself. “Sorry, Cassidy, but your expression was hysterical. You’ve convinced me that you heard them.” He grinned.

In response, I scowled.

“Again, I apologize,” he repeated with an amused grin. “All right, let’s move on to another test.” Scanning the park, his gaze settled behind me. “Don’t turn around. Behind you, that toddler is now eating something.”

Closing my eyes, I sniffed the air. There were so many competing scents. “Is it sweet?” I asked.

“Yes, it is.”

Nodding, I took in a deep breath. Distinguishing scents, I pinpointed a sweet, edible one close by. Opening my eyes, I grinned. “My, you’re tricky, Emery. First of all, that isn’t called eating. That’s called drinking, and he’s drinking apple juice.”

Emery gave me an impressed look. “I can’t see the juice box from here, so I’ll take your word for it.” Grabbing my hands, he stood up, pulling me to my feet. “Now, let’s test strength.”

 “Are you asking me to toss you off here or break your fingers?” I teased, slightly squeezing them.

Grinning, he pulled his hands away. “Definitely not the fingers, and I think tossing me from this swing is too public, though I admit it would be a good show.” He nodded to the woods. “We’ll find something more discreet in there.”

While following the path through the woods, Emery’s eyes roamed for that something discreet. About a hundred feet in, he suggested, “Let’s get off this main path. Over there.” He pointed to a thinly trodden trail cutting through thick growth.

 Following Emery, we pushed our way through the growth. Obviously, no one had come down this overgrown trail in a while. I got the brunt of the overgrowth as the branches Emery pushed forward sprung back at me. After getting slapped in the face with one, I was prepared to demand that I lead, when Emery said, “Yes, this will work.”

Stepping into a clearing, he pointed to a fallen tree twenty feet ahead.

Smiling, I decided to show him leaping before strength. “Stand back,” I warned, pushing him aside. Then, running forward, I leaped for the target. Leading with my right foot, my body glided easily through the air. The exhilaration I had felt while speeding around the school track returned, and that strange, pent-up feeling released. For whatever reason, this very unnatural thing felt as natural as walking to me, and incredibly freeing, as if I had been meant for this.

My right foot touched the top of the massive trunk,and my left pulled in next to it. The landing had been perfect, steady and strong, without even a hint of balance loss. Pivoting on the trunk to face Emery, I smiled smugly.

Walking toward me, he exclaimed, “That was incredible. You move like a cat.”

His praise wiped the smile off my face. “Cat,” I grumbled to myself. “What’s up with the cat theme?” With a sigh, I hopped down next to him. “I suppose you want me to move this.” I patted the thick tree trunk.

Emery examined the area around the tree. “It appears safe. I don’t see any danger if you disturb it. First, make sure there isn’t anyone nearby.”

My ears quickly searched. “All clear,” I announced, moving up to the trunk.

Emery stepped back, his face shining with anticipation.

Resting my palms against the trunk, I prepared to move the giant tree. Pulling in a breath, I pushed. The tree was heavy, but with exertion, the giant’s resistance gave way. I rolled the trunk up out of the indented ground. From underneath, something scurried up the trunk near my left hand. Squealing, I jumped back. The thick trunk rolled back into its resting place.

 Emery grinned. “It was only a lizard.”

 “I hate lizards.” I shuddered. “The nasty thing almost ran over my hand.”

“Ironic. You can push fifteen hundred pounds, and you’re scared of a little lizard.”

I gasped. “One thousand five hundred pounds?”

Surveying the tree, he nodded thoughtfully. “At least.”

The information stunned me. “Okay, then. What do you want me to do next?”

For the next couple of hours, Emery sought out all kinds of challenges, from moving boulders and leaping into trees, to distinguishing sounds and scents. He even had me describe in detail what tree bark looked like microscopically.

Something else took place during this time. My unease around Emery disappeared. In fact, it amazed me just how comfortable I felt around him. Though he was my age, he had none of the uncertainties we teens are usually plagued with. For the most part, I walked on eggshells around girls my age. Saying or doing the wrong thing could trigger an instant “girl war.” Even though my friends weren’t petty, instinctively, I was careful. The boys weren’t as sensitive but were every bit as gossipy. So in general, I watched my back, never letting my guard down. It was exhausting. With Emery, I believed I could be myself, say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, and he wouldn’t hold it against me. He really was a breath of fresh air.

After testing senses, strength, and agility, Emery announced, “It’s time for speed. Let’s see how fast you can go through these woods.”

Back at the main path, we parted ways. The plan was for Emery to go to one entrance and me to the other. After listening to be sure the coast was clear, I would tune in to him where he would be looping a countdown out loud. From my end of the path, I tuned in to the woods. All I heard was Emery’s looping countdown. Positioning myself to run, I listened.

“. . . Three, two, one—”

I took off at a mind-boggling speed. Within seconds, I stood before Emery. Wide-eyed, he stared at me like he’d seen a ghost.

“Unbelievable,” he uttered above a whisper.

 His reaction made me edgy. “How fast do you think I ran?” I asked, attempting to sound casual.

 “My guess would be forty miles per hour. Imagine how fast you would be on a solid, straight surface. I’ve never witnessed anything like this.” His mouth pulled down in the corners.

With an anxious feeling in my gut, I studied him. His face held no expression, as if he wore a mask to hide real emotions. The more I looked at him, the more I believed the emotion he hid was fear. If he’s terrified of me, everyone will be, I anguished.

 “What do you want me to do now?”  I said sheepishly.

 “Nothing,” he answered, distracted. “Let’s head out.” He motioned for me to walk ahead.

 With Emery following silently behind, I walked in a daze. I assumed he had me walk ahead to keep an eye on me.I am the most dangerous thing out here ,I bitterly told myself. I’d make me walk ahead, too, and—

Something scratchy brushed my cheek, interrupting the thought. Reflex kicked in, and before a second passed, I was crouched on a tree branch, looking down at Emery. Smirking, he waved a dry tree branch in his hand.

 “What’s the big deal?” I snapped, hopping down.

Tossing the branch, he stated, untroubled, “I assumed you would react that way when startled. We’ll have to work on those involuntary reflexes.” With a grin, he added, “We can’t have you jumping up in trees in public.”

Glaring hard, I grumbled, “Nice. Real nice.” With my shoulder, I shoved past him, stomping down the path.

 “I couldn’t have taken you off-guard if I warned you beforehand,” he called after me. “For your protection, I needed to know how you would handle it.”

 I spun around. “For my protection? Don’t you mean for yours or for the innocent public’s?”

He grinned with understanding. “Oh, you think I’m afraid.” Walking toward me, he continued, “Cassidy, I’m fascinated, hardly afraid. Not of you, at least. I am concerned about you being exposed, though.” He stopped in front of me.

Glancing up at him, I asked, “So you think I should keep this a secret?”

Alarm washed over his face. Abruptly, he grabbed my upper arms. “Cassidy, you can tell no one about this. Absolutely no one.” Bending close to me, he searched my eyes. “Do you understand? No one can know. Not your parents, not anyone. Keeping this a secret is not only for your safety, it’s for your family’s safety, too.”

My eyes widened. “Why would my family be in danger?”

“Think, Cassidy. Whoever has my mom will want you. You are Formula 10X, and they would view you as a nonentity, something to be acquired. Your personal value and rights would mean absolutely nothing to them. You would become a lab rat. Imagine what they would do to you.”

I tried not to.

“If they become aware of your existence, they’ll do anything to get you. People like this have no boundaries. Everyone and everything becomes free game for them to get what they want. That includes Nate, Chazz—”

“Stop,” I interrupted, shaking my head to dislodge the terrifying images. “I get it. I won’t tell anyone.”

After quick scrutiny, Emery released my arms. Calm replaced the alarm on his face. I believed this expression was his standard mask. For a moment, I studied the mask that showed no signs of strain or worry. As far as facades go, it was a solid one, but I wasn’t fooled. I knew the turmoil that had to be going on underneath.

“Emery, I’m sorry about your mom,” I said for the first time.

Tightening his lips, he nodded acknowledgment.

“Do you know who has her?”

He stared off into the woods. “No, but I know she’s alive.”

“Please forgive me, Emery.” The words wanted to stick in my throat. It was wrong to ask, but I had to. “But how do you know?”

Looking back at me, he stated matter-of-factly, “She’s too valuable to kill. They abducted her because she has something they want. The fact that I’m here talking with you means she must be cooperating to some degree. It’s unfortunate.”

It took me a moment to decode his meaning. “You don’t want her to cooperate, even if it means she’s protecting you? What is it they want from her?”

His smile was a mix of sadness and resentment. “I’ve already told you. They want you. Formula 10X. It is incredibly lucrative, and yes, I want her not to cooperate, no matter the sacrifice. In the wrong hands, 10X is detrimental to the world. Visualize an army of you.”

“But they don’t know about me.”

“And I plan to keep them ignorant.”

Staring up at him, I let his words sink in.He plans to protect me. I’m not alone. With this realization, I threw my arms around his neck, like he was a life preserver. “Thank you,” I said in one grateful breath, tightening my arms.

Grabbing my biceps, he attempted to loosen the hold. “A little tight,” he choked.

“Oh.” Blushing, I released him.

Rubbing his neck, he smiled with ease. “You have quite a grip.” Noting that my cheek shade deepened, he continued, “Please, don’t feel embarrassed. I understand how scared you are. I promise you, though, everything will be all right. You will be all right.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, believing every word.

As he continued to smile, a curious glint appeared in his black eyes. “My mom will shed light on the situation when we get her back,” he said in a casual tone.

Knitting my brow, I rewound his previous statements to figure out what I had missed.

Reading my expression, his smile broadened. “Oh, I didn’t I tell you, did I? You and I are going to find her.”

Reviews-
“Brimful of danger, secrets, a bit of romance and fun, this debut author’s entertaining plot and well-drawn characters not only is all it promises to be, but will leave readers looking for more..” — Gail Welborn, Examiner
“Elise Stokes ranks up there with other YA masterminds!” — Kitty Bullard, Great Minds Think Aloud
“Can I vote now for a movie on this series? With the adventure, the mystery and Cassidy’s super powers, Elise Stokes has delivered everything that a young reader could hope for.” –Stephanie Laymon, Five Alarm Book Reviews

Amazon geo links-

Cassidy Jones and The Secret Formula – http://ow.ly/sDyhv

Cassidy Jones Vulcan’s Gift – http://ow.ly/sDy9K

Cassidy Jones and the Seventh Attendant – http://ow.ly/sDyqI

Contact the Author: Facebook: http://on.fb.me/LGpLhM Facebook: http://on.fb.me/LyQ71E Twitter @CassidyJonesAdv Website: http://cassidyjonesadventures.com/

 

Reading and Reflections on Life

The International Space StationI recently finished astronaut Chris Hadfield’s book titled, An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth. If interested, see my book review below. It was an engaging read and reawakened my fascination with space and the space program.

Like Hadfield, I too watched Neil Armstrong’s walk on the moon and thought there had to be nothing cooler in the world. The dreamer in me fantasized about becoming an astronaut. As I grew into my teens it was a dream that I knew would never be fulfilled. There were too many obstacles I’d never overcome.

At that time, only military test pilots became astronauts. I’ve worn glasses since I was ten. The military did not train individuals to be pilots unless they had perfect eye sight, hearing, and no other physical limitations. Strike one.

Later, NASA accepted candidates to become astronauts who had PhDs that could benefit the space program in some way. I was a disillusioned young man at that time and didn’t finish college. I could not see the purpose of what I termed, “the bullshit courses,” that had nothing to do with one’s major. Now that I’m older and hopefully wiser, I see the practical aspect of those courses and regret I didn’t finished college. Regardless, at the time I began flying lessons which I consumed myself with. College got shoved aside while I concentrated on becoming an airline pilot. Strike two.

Over the years of doing self-reflection, and after reading Hadfield’s book, I also realize I wouldn’t have made a good astronaut. Other than being with my wife, I prefer my time alone. That’s a good characteristic for an author, but not one for an astronaut who will be cooped up with three to six others on the International Space Station. Although I feel I work well with the other pilots I fly with, there are times I’ll let a first officer’s personality bug me. I can put these differences aside for a four day trip. How well would I do on a six month mission in space? Strike three.

But, my fascination with space and astronauts, and my passion for crafting engaging thrillers can work together. I have several threads of ideas rumbling around in my head for stories I’d love to write that revolve around the space program. To make them believable, they’ll take extensive research. The thought of sitting down with an astronaut and discussing their career, training, fears, and how they balance career and family, or visiting the training facilities at the Johnson Space Center have me squirming in my seat.

In the meantime, I can read more about the fascinating career astronauts have and the many ways the space program advances life on earth. I’ve read several great novels I enjoyed years ago I’ll be reading again even though I remember the characters and plots very well.

The first was a novel titled, Gravity, by an author that became one of my favorites: Tess Gerritsen. This book came out a decade or more ago and has nothing to do with the recent movie by Alfonso Cuaron. I enjoyed that book so much I’ve downloaded it onto my iPad and will read it again soon.

Stephen Harrigan also wrote a novel titled, Challenger Park, about a female astronaut, which I’ll be reading again.

After reading Hadfield’s book, I realize how well these two novels had been researched; setting the bar for the investigation I’ll have to do.

What about you? Any dreams or aspirations you may never fulfill, but are at peace with?

An Astronaut’s Guide To Life On Earth, by Chris Hadfield

Lovers of the space program, individuals who fantasize about becoming an astronaut, or non-fiction readers who enjoy a well written tale of someone’s unique life experience will enjoy this well written book.

My wife heard Mr. Hadfield speak on NPR and bought me the book as a Christmas gift. I finished the book in just a couple of sittings, showing me how well my wife knows me.

Mr. Hadfield takes the reader on the journey of becoming an astronaut, his preparation for three journeys into space over a twenty-one year career ending with being the commander of the International Space Station, and how his training affected his life on earth. If I had a problem with the story, it was the first part of the title was misleading. Mr. Hadfield does show how the training and mental outlook needed to fly into space safely altered his thinking; there is not a lot of references to how this changed his earthbound existence outside the space program. It would be easy to come to the conclusions the reflection on his life in the course of writing the book made him realize how his life had been altered through his career as an astronaut.

He becomes preachy at times pointing out that hard work and determination got him into space. Several times I began skimming over paragraphs when he began another anecdote about how much he studied, and disciplined himself to succeed as an astronaut.

It is easy to overlook these difficulties I had with the book when Mr. Hadfield described the fascinating details of training and his journeys into space. It amazed me how difficult an astronaut’s life is on their families. Astronauts travel extensively for training and are seldom home. It is a wonder more aren’t divorced. The fact that Hadfield, who admits he’s an over-achiever, came through the program with an intact marriage, and three children who still speak to him is amazing. Mr. Hadfield shows the steps he took to include his family in his life leaving this reviewer with no doubt he was a loving husband and father, and possible now regrets the toll his life took on his family. The fact Mr. Hadfield didn’t gloss over this aspect influenced this reviewer what I was reading was a truthful account.

I really enjoyed how Mr. Hadfield humanized his fellow astronauts. It seems there are some who exhibit the swagger and arrogance of this elite group. Luckily, those seem a small minority. The majority is humble individuals who strive to play well with others, and prop each other up for group success. Numerous times Mr. Hadfield references his success was a result of thousands of individual working behind the scenes of the space program is a testament to that thinking.

The book renewed my above average interest in the space program and I highly recommend it.

The Cover-Up, First Chapter

Monday, June 14 2:07 p.m.

Chapter One

Monday, June 14 2:07 p.m.

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Chunks of rubber as large as garbage can lids flew from the tire of the main landing gear of the Omega Airline 737.

LaGuardia Airport air traffic controller Sanchez Lopez’s heart pounded as he watched the aircraft continue to accelerate for another thousand feet. Then, slots in the sides of the two jet engines opened and the nose of the airplane dipped, indicating the crew rejected the takeoff.

Sanchez looked to his right. United Airlines Flight 549 crossed the end of runway three-one and began its flare to slow its descent rate for landing. Runway four, which the Omega aircraft barreled down, intersected runway three-one. There was the potential for a collision, or the runway being contaminated from the debris from Omega’s tire. He keyed his microphone. “United 549, go around. Aircraft on the runway.”

Omega continued through the intersection and raced toward the end of the pavement. It appeared to be going too fast to stop on the remaining runway. The last two thousand feet was built out over Flushing Bay, with a twenty-foot drop to the water.

Sanchez curled his toes as if pressing on the brakes of the aircraft, willing it to stop. Eventually, his training kicked in. He raised his voice to get the attention of the other six controllers. “Omega 918 is going off the end of the runway.”

The other controllers pivoted their heads to the end of runway four.

Sanchez confirmed visually that United 549 was in a climb, retracting its landing gear, before he spoke into his boom microphone. “United 549, fly heading three four zero. Climb and maintain five thousand feet.”

He glanced back in time to see Omega slide off the end of runway four.

“Shit!” Sanchez braced himself against the counter as if he were in the airplane.

The airplane was airborne for two hundred feet, then smashed through the first set of approach-light stanchions. Parts of the engine cowling ripped away as if from an explosion. The plane continued forward, its nose canted down, for another two hundred feet before it collided with the second stanchion. The tail of the aircraft rose before slamming down, sending out a shower of water.

The 737’s left wing sat on the stanchion. The right one lay in the water, canting the aircraft thirty degrees. Its nose looked as if a wrecking ball had smacked it.

Book Review of James R. Paddock, Before Anne After

Lovers of time travel stories (me) will enjoy this book. The stories plot is engaging leaving the reader to speed through the story wondering if the stories dilemma will be resolved, and how.

Although the story progressed forward in a moderate succession, I wished it had been better edited. Parts of the story dragged without much forward progression. The paradox of time travel is discussed in great detail three times. I had the feeling the author didn’t trust the reader to get it the first time. There are several scenes that didn’t really add much to the story that I felt the author put in for the fun of putting the character into a situation they wouldn’t be in if they weren’t a time traveler.

There was also a long involved back story near the end that I skimmed through. At that point I knew all I needed of this character. I didn’t need an after-the-fact explanation of him.

That being said, I put off stuff and went to bed early so I could read more of the story. If my issues with the story had been resolved, I wouldn’t have a problem giving a five star rating instead of four. The teaser of the following novel will have me reading it soon.

Coerced, Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

COERCED - 1 - FULL RES

Air traffic controller Jacob Crispen looked to the west, out of the windows of New Orleans International Airport’s control tower and observed the black line of clouds two miles away. They continued their march eastward toward the airport. Every few seconds, lightning shot out.

An Omega Airlines flight was three miles from the airport and approaching from the east. If it didn’t land in the next few minutes, the storm would close the airport and they would have to either hold until the storm passed, or fly to their alternate airport.

Omega was several thousand feet higher than other flights would normally be on their straight in final to runway two-eight. It seemed impossible they would lose their excess altitude and make a normal landing.

Crispen considered giving Omega the option of flying a three-sixty-degree turn to give them additional time to lose altitude, but that would have them landing after the storm hit. “Omega 1194, winds two one zero at fifteen, gusting to twenty-five. You’re still cleared to land.” His foot tapped a steady beat.

“Omega 1194,” one of the two pilots radioed back.

The 737’s wings rocked. They were two miles from landing, but their altitude readout on Crispen’s radar showed them at two thousand feet. Most aircraft would be at eight hundred feet. He couldn’t believe they were continuing the approach.

“Omega 1194, wind one eight zero at twenty gusting to thirty.” Crosswind gusts in excess of twenty-five knots made landing difficult.

The plane continued toward the airport.

The wind howled as it rounded the control tower windows. Crispen considered evacuating the tower and seeking the safety of the offices at ground level in case the wind toppled the tower, or blew out its windows. After Omega landed, or aborted their approach, he’d scramble down the stairs.

Omega was a mile from the airport and a thousand feet above it. They should be less than five hundred feet above the ground. The plane’s wings continued to rock. The wall of rain from the thunderstorm was half a mile away. “Omega 1194, wind one seven zero at two two. We just had a gust of forty.” Crispen stood and stepped from foot to foot.

The flight crossed the end of the runway two hundred feet in the air. Most aircraft would’ve been at fifty feet. It continued descending, the wings rolling left and right.

“Go around. Go around,” Crispen said without keying the microphone. He could only order the flight to do so if the runway wasn’t clear of traffic.

Over halfway down the runway and twenty feet off the ground, Omega’s nose aligned with the runway. The aircraft descended fast, hitting the runway with a massive jolt. It bounced ten feet into the air and hovered while continuing on its path, before dropping to the concrete once more.

Do they have enough runway to stop?

The spoilers on top of the wings lifted, and the slots in the side of the engine opened, signaling the pilots had selected reverse thrust.

The aircraft swerved back and forth.

Crispen’s mouth gaped when Omega went off the right side of the runway. Pieces of smashed runway edge lights flew into the air.

The thunderstorm swallowed Omega in the heavy rain. Visibility dropped, making it difficult for Crispen to observe Omega’s roll out.

Without taking his gaze off the ghost-like shape of the plane continuing down the side of the runway, he lifted the phone with a trembling hand and speed dialed a number.

“Fire and Rescue,” a male voice said.

“This is the tower.” Crispen’s voice was louder than necessary. “Omega Airlines 737 went off the side of the runway and may need assistance.”

“Location, damage, and souls onboard?”

“They just came to a stop at the west end of runway two-eight. Aircraft appears intact. Souls onboard unknown.”

“We’re rolling.”

He hung up. “Omega 1194, tower. Rescue equipment is on their way. Do you require assistance?”

No one answered.