It has been said that the veil which separates the past from the present is not as immutable as one might think. Some have equated time as a spiral. But what if we could jump from spiral to spiral? A more terrifying thought: what if it accidentally happened? Cherries in Winter, was inspired by two events that actually occurred- one at the turn of the last century, and one in the 1930's. These are only two amongst many documented cases. This story could be categorized as a love story between two centuries, two worlds - but with a twist. When an F-22 Raptor fighter pilot in 2016 is on a routine training mission with three other Raptors, he suddenly finds himself slammed by an unknown energy cloud. And when he regains control of his jet- he finds himself alone in the sky! All attempts at communication prove futile. But when his plane's main computer inexplicably begins to seriously malfunction, he must land. And when he does, he realizes with horror that something is very wrong- as he touches down on a Royal Flying Corps airfield- in 1916! And the shattering paradox of a massive 21st century fighter next to tiny WW I biplanes, is the least of his problems. It is wartime. The dangers of the enemy becoming aware of an F-22 would be incalculable. How do you hide it? Keep it secret? But then the unthinkable happens: while desperately trying to lay low, and find a way home- he falls in love. Now he must keep his true identity from her, he must make certain the Germans do not become aware of him, he must be careful not to do anything that might jeopardize the natural course of history, he must find a way back to 2016, plus now he must contemplate the impossible: how to return to the 21st century with the woman he loves- without her ageing 100 years!
About the Author: I was born in New York City during Millard Fillmore's administration. At least, I feel like that sometimes. My Dad was a decorated ace in the Royal Air Force during the Battle of Britain, having received the Distinguished Flying Cross. I think that's where I got my love of aviation from. My Mom was a saint. Period. I soloed on Halloween, 1968, from the old Burnside-Ott Aviation Training Center at Opa-Locka Airport in Florida, graduating from North Miami Senior High that same year. I remember it was a beautiful little Cessna 150. Okay- it wasn't a Lear Jet. We can't have everything. Blue sky is blue sky. I graduated from Northern Arizona University, in Flagstaff, in 1974, having received a Bachelor's degree in writing and a Master's in history. Flagstaff is the home of Lowell Observatory, where Percival Lowell did so much to further our understanding of Mars at the turn of the last century, and where Clyde Tombaugh discovered Pluto in 1930. It's also the home of the U.S. Geological Survey, who were the 1st to process the pictures of Mars, sent from the old Mariner missions in the 60's. I did awful in High School because I hated it. I did great in college because I loved it. No brainer. Now I know why Northern Arizona is called God's country. Visit it sometime! I've climbed down to the bottom of the magnificent Grand Canyon (and yes, out again - obviously) and still feel the aches and pains some 40 years later. I started writing seriously around 1978. Prior to that I suppose I wasn't serious - shopping lists, addressing letters, hastily scribbled recipes, threatening notes to other car owners to get out of my parking space - things like that. Since then, I've written THE HEALER, plus 7 novels of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, and numerous short stories. I've always been attracted to the weird and unexplainable. I suppose it all began when I first looked into a mirror. I'm a great believer in UFO's, and detest the conspiracy of silence concerning them. I believe the future of space commercialization lies in private enterprise. As such, I also believe that Mars should be our top priority. And what will we find when we get there? Remnants of an ancient civilization. And - of course - the infamous Face on Mars. I did my Master's thesis on THE LOST CONTINENT OF ATLANTIS. I was going to write on THE SCIENTIFIC PROOF OF SANTA CLAUS, but I was afraid of getting a lump of coal in my stocking that Christmas.