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Standing in the blood of the man who tried to kill him, the boy, almost a man, froze, horrified at what he had done. The head, separated from the body, lay face down in the forest undergrowth. Blood flowed from the open neck onto the mat of decaying leaves. There had been no time. There had been no time to think. No time to plan. Only one would walk away from that confrontation in the woods. The boy had gotten the better of this man who had killed many before him.
When the woman, dressed to blend into the forest, emerged from behind the trees to admire his handiwork, pointing her crossbow
…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
Standing in the blood of the man who tried to kill him, the boy, almost a man, froze, horrified at what he had done. The head, separated from the body, lay face down in the forest undergrowth. Blood flowed from the open neck onto the mat of decaying leaves. There had been no time. There had been no time to think. No time to plan. Only one would walk away from that confrontation in the woods. The boy had gotten the better of this man who had killed many before him.
When the woman, dressed to blend into the forest, emerged from behind the trees to admire his handiwork, pointing her crossbow at him, he thought he might have killed for naught. Little did any of the handful of people standing in the forest that day know the changes that this one death would put in motion.


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Autorenporträt
Writing has always gotten me in trouble. Still does.

I have been a fan of science and speculative fiction since I found it in the young people's section of the library. In grade school, I devoured works by Heinlein, Norton, Asimov, and Huxley among others. By the time I had finished high school, I had read every science fiction book in the town's library.

When I was in high school I wrote short stories instead of paying attention in math class. This did not help my math grade and would have serious consequences a few years later.

In college, I could be counted on for the divergent opinion. This was after my failed math forced a complete redirection of my life plan. A disastrous Freshman year at Brandeis University, forced a reevaluation of reading materials. Switching majors to theater brought exposure to Shaw, Strindberg, Ibsen, Stoppard, Pinter, Shakespeare, and a host of young would-be playwrights. As a technical theater major, I found that the quantity of material to which I was exposed often surpassed the quality. Too busy to do any writing of his own, I devoted his time to supporting the efforts of others.

The Vietnam War brought a tour of duty in South Carolina and the opportunity to begin graduate work at the University of South Carolina. While in the Air Force, my anti-war sentiments did not become an issue, because I kept them secret. I did no writing except for my graduate school classes which I took while still in service. Even here, I was ever the contrarian, unwilling or unable to go where the others went. Fortunately, as a design major, my writing was of less concern than my draftsmanship. The war ended and with less than a month to go on my MA, and no job opportunities in sight, I left school lacking only my thesis and took a paying job at Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus World in Haines City Florida Master's degrees in the theater were not worth much in the aftermath of the Vietnam War.

Fortunately, through a series of unlikely coincidences, I landed a job as technical director of the then brand new Tupperware Convention Center. At the time, it was the only full-time convention center in Central Florida. I would stay there for twenty years earning an MBA along the way although my work schedule left little time for either reading or writing except for articles in technical journals.

My sudden departure from Tupperware provided the time to return to reading and writing...