Part of Series
“You know how when people show up at an emergency room, they’re admitted based on severity? Someone with the sniffles gets told to wait in the corner while a bullet wound gets rushed into surgery?” Tilting my head back in understanding, I replied, “I take it rainbow fentanyl is a bullet wound?” “Rainbow fentanyl is a shotgun blast to the chest.” When Hawk Tate went to bed the night before, he took the massive winter squall raging along the western front of the Rocky Mountain range as a sign the winter tour of Yellowstone Park scheduled for the next morning wasn’t meant to be. What he had no way of knowing was that while he was safe in his bed, a small plane was passing high overhead. A vessel en route from Seattle to Denver, with no choice but to try and push through. A doomed effort, forcing them down into the most remote part of the park with cargo that many parties will do anything to recover. Including kidnapping Hawk and his partner and demanding they take them to the crash site. Heavily outnumbered, and working under a dwindling timeframe, Hawk is forced to lead a race deep into the most isolated wilderness in the continental United States. A fight for survival, pitting him not just against the crew holding them captive, but the raw savagery of the elements. A battle against both man and nature, requiring every bit of experience amassed in both his time as a guide and as a DEA agent long before...
Author
I originally hail from the midwest, growing up in the heart of farm country, and still consider it, along with West Tennessee, my co-home. Between the two, I have a firm belief that football is the greatest of all past-times, sweet tea is really the only acceptable beverage for any occasion, there is not an event on earth that either gym shorts or boots can't be worn to, and that Dairy Queen is the best restaurant on the planet. Further, southern accents are a highly likeable feature on most everybody, English bulldogs sit atop the critter hierarchy, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with a Saturday night spent catfishing at the lake. Since leaving the midwest I've been to college in New England, grad school in the Rockies, and lived in over a dozen different cities ranging from DC to Honolulu along the way. Each and every one of these experiences has shaped who I am at this point, a fact I hope is expressed in my writing. I have developed enormous affinity for locales and people of every size and shape, and even if I never figure out a way to properly convey them on paper, I am very much grateful for their presence in my life. To sum it up, I asked a very good friend recently how they would describe me for something like this. Their response: "Plagued by realism and trained by experiences/education to be a pessimist, you somehow remain above all else an active dreamer." While I can't say those are the exact words I would choose, I can't say they're wrong. I travel, live in different places, try new foods, meet all kinds of different people, and above all else stay curious to a fault. Here's hoping it continues to provide us all with some pretty good stories...
