Friday, November 29, 2013
Get it Free! 'Incident at Cactus Junction
The first of my holiday offerings, Incident at Cactus Junction, the Kindle version, is free December 1 - 5. Start your holiday book shopping with this bargain now! http://www.amazon.com/Buffalo-Soldier-Incident-Cactus-Junction-ebook/dp/B009C91HO8/
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Kindle Books: Holiday Book Specials
Looking for stocking stuffers for those favorite people on your holiday gift list – or just want to give yourself a treat? Books are great gifts, because they keep on giving year round. And, e-Books are even greater because they’re so portable. I’m offering a holiday special for my readers. During the weeks leading up to Christmas, five of my Kindle titles will be available either FREE or at a greatly reduced price. Make a note of the dates and get your shopping done early.
Get it FREE December 1 - 5!
Discounted December 3 - 9, beginning at $0.99 or 81% off regular price!
FREE December 11 - 15!
Saturday, November 23, 2013
WIP: Chapter 1 of Buffalo Soldier: Yosemite
 |
| English: A photograph of Yosemite National Park ranger Shelton Johnson in the uniform of a "Buffalo Soldier" as part of a living history re-enactment. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) |
 |
| An Afro-American Corporal, in the 9th Cavalry. Snow covers the ground 1890. (Photo credit: Wikipedia) |
As a special holiday treat for fans of the Buffalo Soldier series, I’m offering a
sneak peek at chapter one of the latest work in progress; Buffalo Soldier: Yosemite, a fictional account of the role played
by the Buffalo Soldiers of the U.S. Ninth Cavalry in the development of the
National Parks system, which is scheduled to be completed by the end of the
year.
1.
They came riding through a sharp cut in
the mountains, where the trail started to dip down toward the broad, flat
plains below. After more than two months, most of it spent in the saddle, they
were weary and looking forward to getting home.
The lower they got on the trail the higher
the temperature rose. The great coats they’d had to wear at the higher
altitudes to protect from the bitter January cold were starting to feel heavy.
“Detachment, halt,” Sergeant Ben Carter
said, loudly enough so that Corporal Tom Holman, who was riding point, could
hear. Ben noticed that his breath fogged less than it had when they started
riding earlier that morning, and he was starting to feel sweat forming under
his armpits. “Let’s take off the coats, and tie ‘em to the back of the
saddles.”
The nine cavalrymen riding behind him
wasted no time shucking the heavy coats.
“Dang, I didn’t think you was ever gone
let us take them things off,” Sergeant George Toussaint, Ben’s second in
command, said. “I was sweatin’ like a blue tick dog in a Louisiana swamp in
that thing.”
Toussaint rode up alongside Ben. The wide
smile on his broad, brown face belied his words. Ben noted that the normally
phlegmatic trooper had been smiling and happy for almost the entire mission. In
fact, everyone in the unit had been considerably happier since they’d been
moved from their job of escorting work details and sent off to scout a route
from Fort Union to Yosemite. Despite the long days in the saddle, the rugged
terrain ranging from high mountain to scorching desert, and weather that was
freezing cold in the mountains and hot enough to fry bacon in the desert, Ben
and his men had been in fairly good spirits for the entire time.
“Yeah,” he said. “I was starting to feel a
bit hot myself. I don’t reckon we’ll need ‘em for the rest of the trip.”
As they came down out of the Sangre de
Cristo Mountains, north and northeast of Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico
Territory, they could see the plains off to the east that seemed to go on
forever. Ben knew that Fort Union, home to two troops of the Ninth United
States Cavalry, was just over the horizon - about thirty miles more, and they
would be home.
Up ahead, he saw that Holman had tied his
coat behind him and was waiting for his signal to move out again. He waved.
When Holman’s horse was turned, Ben
signaled the rest of the detachment to move out. In a clatter of hooves, ten
riders and five pack horses resumed their trek down off the mountain.
Over two months on the trail had been
taxing, but Ben was satisfied that they had accomplished their assigned mission
of mapping out a route from Fort Union to Yosemite that could be traveled by a
wagon carrying surveying equipment and driven by civilians with little experience
on the frontier. He had also, he felt, accomplished the mission he set for
himself.
After an extended period of garrison duty,
the men of the detachment had lost their edge. During the mapping mission, Ben
had them perform tactical drills at every opportunity. From setting up camp at
night, and breaking camp each morning, mounting sentries at every stop, and on
a few occasions in isolated areas away from settlements, doing rifle, pistol,
and saber drills until they could do them with their eyes closed. There had
been complaining the first few times, and they were clearly rusty, but as the
old skills came back, and their performance smoother and by reflex, they began
to enjoy it. Being outside in the open air, with starry skies over their head at
night, was what they needed to feel like soldiers again. He could see it in the
way they rode. Their heads held high, shoulders squared, and backs straight.
These were once again the men he felt confident going into battle with.
They hadn’t even minded that their mission
caused them to be in the field over the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. They’d
shot several quail and a small deer and cooked them over an open fire to
supplement the rations they carried. The fresh meat, along with several jugs of
apple cider they’d bought at a settlement in California they’d passed through,
made the meals around their campfire every bit as festive as it would have been
had they been at Fort Union. Even George Toussaint, taciturn by nature, joined
in the singing around the fire, surprising everyone with his beautiful baritone
voice.
He breathed deeply of the air, fresh and
crisp. He enjoyed the feeling of the sun bathing his face and hands, and the
sight of the animals coming out to take advantage of the warming air as the sun
burned off the night chill.
As Ben looked ahead, something about what
he saw bothered him, but it took a few seconds for his brain to process what he
was seeing.
Off in the distance, he could see Holman’s
horse idly grazing. But, there was no sign of the trooper. Ben senses’ went on
alert. He raised his hand, halting the column.
Toussaint quickly rode up beside him.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
Ben pointed. “I see Tom’s horse, but I don’t
see him,” he said tensely.
He quickly went through possible scenarios
in his mind. He hadn’t heard gunfire, and there wasn’t enough cover in front of
them for an Indian with a bow to hide, so it couldn’t be a hostile attack.
Holman was a good horseman who wouldn’t just fall off his horse, and it he’d gotten off for some reason, Ben
should be able to see him. A standing man was visible for miles on the flat
terrain.
“You want me to go up and check?”
Toussaint asked.
“No, you stay here with the unit. I’ll
take Malachi with me.”
Ben called Private Malachi Davis forward.
Davis was the best shot in the unit. If firepower was needed, Ben felt
confident with the youngster at his side. He pulled his horse around and kicked
it forward toward Holman’s grazing mount. Davis followed close behind.
As they got closer, Ben saw a dark shape
on the ground. At first, he feared it might be a dead body, but then he saw it
move. Closer still and they heard the moans. It was Holman, writhing on the
ground. They halted their horses and both men vaulted from the saddle.
“Keep a share lookout, Malachi,” Ben said,
kneeling next to Holman. “Tom, what happened?”
The corporal’s dark face was contorted in
pain. “O-o-ow!” he
cried. “My
horse was spooked by a snake, and throwed me. I think I done broke my leg.” He
pointed to his left leg which was at a strange angle from his body.
Ben felt gingerly along Holman’s leg,
staring at his hip. As he reached a point about eight inches above the knee, he
felt a sharp bump, and Holman screamed in agony. Ben quickly removed his hand.
“Yeah, it appears broken all right,” he
said. “Malachi, go get the others. We’ll have to make camp here until I can figure
out what to do.” He laid a hand on the injured trooper’s shoulder. “You just
lay back and rest, Tom. We’re gonna have to set that broken leg somehow.”
Holman’s brow was covered with beads of
sweat. He spoke through clenched jaws. “It hurt somethin’ awful, Ben,” he said.
“I don’t think I can ride.”
“Don’t worry; we’re not too far from the
fort. I’ll send somebody to get a wagon.”
Ben rose and walked over to retrieve
Holman’s horse, which he tethered to a small bush next to his own. He began
gathering twigs for a fire, glancing constantly at his friend, who still moaned
occasionally. He had just finished stacking the wood near Holman, and was about
to light it when the rest of the detachment rode up.
Toussaint rushed over to him. “Malachi
told me what happened,” he said. “What we gone do?”
“We’ll set up camp here. We need to try
and set that broken leg, too.” Ben issued rapid fire orders. “Send Hezekiah on
to the fort to get a wagon to transport Tom.”
The big sergeant whirled and began
carrying out Ben’s orders. Ben motioned for Corporal Samuel Hightower join him
next to Holman.
“Yeah, Ben,” Hightower said. “What you
need?”
“We need to set this broken leg,” Ben
said. His face was creased with worry. “I’m not sure I know how to do it
properly. I was hopin’ maybe you’d learned how when you and your ma lived with
the Indians.”
Hightower nodded. “I reckon I might be
able to. I need four pieces of wood, as straight as possible, and about the
length of his leg from crotch to the ground, and some twine.”
“I can do that,” Ben said. He hurried off,
scanning the surrounding terrain for something matching Hightower’s request.
He found two pieces of the length
Hightower wanted, so the corporal used four shorter pieces to make up for the
missing lengths. They cut strips from Holman’s saddle bag to secure the wood to
his injured leg. Ben had to hold him down as Hightower affixed the makeshift
splint. When they were done, Holman lay back, his face and upper body slick
with sweat, his chest heaving. He looked up at his two friends, his eyes
clouded with pain.
“How you feelin’, pardner?” Hightower
asked.
“Like I done been stomped by a Brahma
bull, is how,” Holman replied. “Did you have to be so rough puttin’ this here
splint on?”
“I needed to cinch it up tight so them
broke bones don’t move around. I done seen a bad splint let the bones move and
they cut a vein. That happen, you’d bleed to death.”
Holman winced. “Oh, in that case, I
forgive you.”
“Hey, Tom, we got some vittles goin’, you
feel up to eatin’?” Ben said.
Holman smiled weakly. “I done broke my
leg, not my belly. ‘Course I feel like eatin’.”
Ben had him lie back and rest, his saddle
as a pillow and wool blankets below him and covering him, while the men set
about erecting tents and getting their supper of beans, beef, and biscuits
done.
The sun was below the peaks behind them,
casting long dark shadows over the plain, by the time Private Hezekiah Layton
returned from the fort, accompanied by the post doctor and a wagon driven by a
husky corporal.
The doctor examined Holman’s leg, while
the corporal untied the wagon’s two horses and put them in with the detachment’s
animals who had been tethered in an area twenty feet downwind of the circle of
tents they’d erected.
When he’d finished his examination, the
doctor, a gaunt captain with lank brown hair and watery blue eyes, stood and
turned to Ben. “That’s a pretty bad fracture he’s got,” he said. “Can’t do much
but try and keep him comfortable, though, ‘till we get back to the fort
hospital. You did a pretty good job of settin’ it, sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir,” Ben said. “But, it was
Corporal Hightower that did that.” Ben looked around. “I notice you and the
driver didn’t bring tents. You can use mine, and I’ll bunk with one of the
others. The driver can do the same.”
The captain laughed. “Reckon I wasn’t
thinkin’ too clearly. I appreciate that, sergeant. Reckon we’ll need to borrow mess
kits as well.”
Ben shrugged. That the officer hadn’t
thought to equip himself for an overnight stay didn’t surprise him, but he was
a bit disappointed in the corporal. Troopers of the Ninth were supposed to be
field ready at all times – his men now were. This one, though, had obviously
been in garrison too long.
“No problem, sir,” he said. “We have
extras in the supplies. Brought ‘em along in case we had any lost or damaged.”
That, Ben thought, was what it really
meant to be a cavalry trooper.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Red Card for the Red Line
If Washington’s Metropolitan Area Transit Authority
(WMATA) was a soccer team, the Red
Line that runs between Shady Grove and Glenmont would be a player not
pulling his weight. The Red Line, part of the oldest line in the 37 year-old combined
subway/surface rail system, has been plagued with problems for the past several
years, including excessive delays, breakdowns, and accidents.
When mishaps cause the system to have to single
track – which seems to happen almost every day – riders during rush hour can
experience delays of two to four hours, stations as crowded as a Tokyo subway station
and frustration levels that are off the chart. Add to this the design flaws in
the system, such as platform tiles of a material that becomes as slick as ice
when it gets wet, escalators and elevators that stop working at the most
inopportune time, and turnstiles that malfunction frequently, and you have a
set of irritants that force many commuters back into their cars and onto the
crowded streets and the Beltway.
The Red Line handles about 150,000 rider trips a
day, making it one of the busiest of the system’s soon to be six lines (the
Silver Line to Dulles Airport is set to open sometime in 2014). If its problems
cause people to jettison mass transit commutes, and go back to the highways,
think of what that will mean to area traffic and pollution. That’s another 100K
cars or so on roads that are already overcrowded, and tons more greenhouse
gasses emitted into the atmosphere.
Come on Metro; fans are sitting in the stands
cheering for you to get your star player in shape and back onto the field.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
HR BlogVOCATE: The Awful Truth: What LinkedIn Has Taught Me About...
HR BlogVOCATE: The Awful Truth: What LinkedIn Has Taught Me About...: I’m a fairly active participant on LinkedIn, and I enjoy hanging out there, promoting my blog, being directed to other pe...
Monday, November 18, 2013
DIPLO DENIZEN: The American Diplomatic Spoils System, Part III: M...
DIPLO DENIZEN: The American Diplomatic Spoils System, Part III: M...: To: Bradley Bell Executive Producer, CBS The Bold and the Beautiful Dear Mr. Bell: I hereby submit my application to join...
My Top 5 Trips in 2013
This year, 2013, which is almost over, is the first full year since my retirement from government service. Having spent 50 years traveling for the government, I’ve become addicted to packing and spending a fair amount of time in hotels around the world. I feared that being retired would put a huge crimp in one of my favorite pastimes, but so far, I’ve been pleased to discover that, even in retirement, there are many travel opportunities.
Despite an accident in July, when I fell and broke my right hip, resulting in six weeks of limited mobility when the doctors thought it was just a bruise, and another twelve weeks of being confined to my house when they found a small fracture that required surgery, I’ve still accumulated a lot of travel miles. With a month and a half left in the year, my travel will be restricted to subway trips from my home in suburbia to downtown Washington, DC, but I still had five great journeys that have made 2013 a memorable year.
Arizona and New Mexico
In March, I was invited to Davis-Monthan Air Force Base in Tucson, Arizona to participate in the Air Force’s major personnel recover exercise, Angel Thunder. Unlike past exercises, I didn’t get to do any helicopter trips, but did do several road trips between Tucson and Playas, New Mexico, with a side trip to historic Tombstone, Arizona.
Cameroon
The Canada-based magazine Afrique Expansion invited me to join a media delegation traveling to Cameroon in May to cover Cameroon’s national day celebrations. In addition, we did road trips around the capital Yaounde and then drove to the port city of Douala. Included were visits to a tourist village and an ape sanctuary.
Dearborn, Michigan
After returning to the U.S. from Cameroon, I left home the next day for Dearborn, MI, where I was the grand marshal for the city’s Memorial Day parade. Great visits to the Ford Museum and Ford Village, which included a ride on a turn-of-the century carousel.
Chautauqua Institution, New York
Chautauqua Institution, in western New York, is home to the country’s oldest public book club. Despite a broken hip (which hadn’t been diagnosed at the time) I drove up to participate in the institution’s activities. A historic site, and a great place to spend a week in the summer.
Suffolk, Virginia
After my hip fracture was diagnosed and I had surgery, I was housebound for more than ten weeks. My doctor, however, cleared me to drive and move around on crutches just in time for me to travel to Virginia’s east coast to work with a team of defense consultants in Suffolk, VA during the second week in November.
In addition to some great scenery, which I photographed madly, each trip was a culinary delight. From eating some rather exotic dishes in Cameroon to mouth-watering barbecue in Suffolk, I partook of local delights at each venue. For the rest of 2013, I plan to rest up and get ready for 2014.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
HR BlogVOCATE: What’s Wrong with Saying “I Don’t Know”?
HR BlogVOCATE: What’s Wrong with Saying “I Don’t Know”?: I read an article the other day that advised employees to never tell a boss, “I don’t know.” Instead, the authors advised, th...
Friday, November 15, 2013
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Monday, November 11, 2013
A Salute to Those Who Serve
Whether they’re sitting watch in the rugged terrain
of Afghanistan, at a radar screen on a ship in some distant ocean, behind a
desk at a post in the U.S., or on their back porch remembering their service,
our veterans have never failed to answer the call when their services were
needed. They’ve come from farms, small towns, and towering cities; farmers and
factory workers, men and women, all colors and religions – and, when necessary,
they’ve paid the ultimate sacrifice.
Take a moment today to reflect on the freedoms that
we as Americans all too often take for granted, and the price in blood that our
veterans have paid to purchase those freedoms. We might have to endure some
economic hardship, but compared to much of the rest of the world, we have it
easy. And, it’s largely due to the men and women who have been willing to put
their lives on hold, and go into harm’s way.
They don’t ask much; only that we not forget. Show
your respect and gratitude to our veterans. They deserve it – they’ve earned
it.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Marza - the Film by Regan Young
Former U.S. Marine Regan Young has made an evocative film about his time in Afghanistan. He needs but $5,000 to finish production and release it. Check it out at Kickstarter.com and consider supporting this artistic and worthwhile endeavor.
Friday, November 8, 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
What's in a Name?
An interesting and thought-provoking article on the controversial issue of using Native American names for American sports teams. http://www.globalethics.org/newsline/2013/11/04/red-man/comment-page-1/#comment-55533
Friday, November 1, 2013
What Ambassadors Really Do: NSA's Alexander Got it Wrong
In an October 31, 2013 meeting of the Baltimore
Council on Foreign Relations, General Keith Alexander, Commander of U.S.
Cyber Command and Director of the National Security Agency (NSA) got into an
interesting exchange with Maryland State Senator James Carew Rosapepe (D), who
served as an ambassador during the Clinton administration, when Rosapepe
challenged him on the ‘national security justification’ for the NSA’s
surveillance against ‘democratically elected leaders and private companies.’
Alexander’s response
was facile, and drew laughs from many present. I reprint here what appeared on
The Guardian’s news site:
“We all joke that everyone is spying on everyone,”
he (Rosapepe) said. “But that is not a national security justification.”
Alexander replied, “That is a great question, in
fact as an ambassador you have part of the answer. Because we the intelligence
agencies don’t come up with the requirements. The policymakers come up with the
requirements. One of those groups would have been, let me think, hold on, oh,
ambassadors.”
You have to credit Alexander with being quick with a
quip, but, had he thought to engage his brain before starting his mouth, he
might have realized just how off base his remark was. Instead, he merely
demonstrated that even some of our senior officials are ignorant when it comes
to the role played by ambassadors in developing our foreign policy. Instead of
clarifying the issue, he only muddied the water further, and in this case, not
with anything approaching the truth.
To put that comment in perspective, let me state that
I’m speaking from the perspective of someone who served as an ambassador twice,
as a senior Department of Defense official for three years, and spent more than
15 years of my 20-year army career involved in intelligence and
counterintelligence.
Item one: ambassadors do not establish intelligence
requirements. And, I would challenge the good general to show concrete evidence
of an NSA requirement that came directly from a serving ambassador.
Intelligence requirements are established by committees in Washington. They are
sent to the field for ambassadors to comment on. And, here I’m not naïve enough
to think that we were told everything. I’m quite sure there were times it was
determined that even as ambassador, I had no ‘need-to-know’ what a particular
agency was up to in my country of assignment, the president’s letter to me
giving me authority over U.S. agencies notwithstanding. Having been a military
intelligence officer, I now that this is just the way the world of intelligence
works.
Item two: An ambassador who asked intelligence
officials at his embassy to spy on the head of government to whom he’s
accredited would be taking a grave risk. His or her job is to maintain
bilateral relations (even when we have disagreements with the government), and
should such an operation be discovered, whatever short-term gain it achieved
would be outweighed by the long-term negative consequences.
Sure, we would like to know leadership intentions,
but there are other ways to determine them that don’t risk provoking an
unnecessary crisis or causing a break in the relationship, especially with an
ally.
Was Alexander joking, or was he serious? If he was
joking, it was in extremely poor taste. If he was serious, one has to wonder
just how much he really knows about how Washington works. At any rate,
malicious statements like this must not go unchallenged. As Secretary of State John
Kerry said recently from London, NSA’s programs have gone ‘too far.’ Too
much of what they’re doing is on ‘automatic pilot’ and being done because they
have the capability to do it. Just because we can do something, though, doesn’t mean we should do it.
The same thing goes for what we say. Just because
Alexander could say what he said, and
without offering any specifics to support it, doesn’t mean he should have said it. In fact, he most
definitely should not have said it,
and he owes a statement of apology to every man and woman who has served this
country as an ambassador.
Spellbound Winter Book Tour
SUPERNATURAL PET
QUIZ
Today bestselling author, Sherry Soule has some exciting news to share
with us! All
the previously published books in the Spellbound
series have been rewritten and republished with more epic romance and
suspenseful thrills. The new versions also include exclusive bonus material and
brand new scenes. Even additional scenes from charming, bad-boy, Trent
Donovan’s point-of-view! To help promote the new editions, she is doing this
awesome book promo to share the update with fellow booklovers.
Must
heroes need a sidekick, and if fate smiles upon you, then you’ll have a
paranormal pet watching your back. But which one best suits YOU?
After
taking this quiz, please be sure to
share your results in the comments below.
What size pet would you prefer?
a)
Small
b)
Medium
c)
Large
d)
Gigantic
Do you mind a pet that might shed?
a)
Loose fur? I’m cool with that
b)
Rough scales are acceptable
c)
Transparent coat? No biggie
d)
Shedding pelt—ain’t a problem
How would you like your pet to greet
people at the door?
a)
Rub their ankles and purr
b)
Spitting and growling
c)
Bark and sniff hand
d)
Snarling and howling
How much protection would you like to
have?
a)
Minimum – docile and fluffy
b)
Moderate – Vicious yet cuddly
c)
Extreme - Invisible but deadly
d)
Tremendous - Bite anyone who messes
with me
What
would you like to feed your new pet?
a)
Tuna and bowl of milk
b)
Human emotions—fear, anger, lust, vengeance
c)
Nothing
d)
Chew on skeleton bones—they make a
tasty snack
Where will your pet sleep?
a)
On my lap
b)
Hiding in the shadows
c)
Never sleeps
d)
Curled up in a cozy cave
What type of toys would your pet like most?
a)
Mice and squeaky toys
b)
Stuffed dinosaurs or dragons
c)
Chase balls and fetch newspapers
d)
None. Does not play well with others
If
you answered...
Mostly
a's: Your pet is a magical cat!
Witches have used familiars for years to help increase the power of their
spells. Cute and helpful!
Mostly
b's: Your pet would be a Shade!
These affectionate demonic creatures are a cross between a puppy and a dragon.
Small but fierce!
Mostly
c's: Your supernatural pet is a ghost
dog! These creatures are often dubbed hellhounds, too, and they are vicious
animals. Muscular and opaque!
Mostly
d's: Your pet is a ferocious lycan!
These were-creatures make impressive guard dogs. Clever and scary!
Places you can
cyberstalk Sherry Soule:
[INSERT
BOOK COVER]
Deadly
Witchcraft. Ghostly Threats. Doomed Romance.
They say every town has its secrets, but that
doesn’t even begin to describe Fallen Oaks. The townsfolk are a superstitious
lot and the mystical disappearance of a local teen has everyone murmuring about
a centuries old witch’s curse.
When sixteen-year-old Shiloh Trudell takes a summer
job at Craven Manor, she discovers a ghost with an agenda. That’s where she
meets the new town hottie, Trent Donovan, and immediately becomes enchanted by his
charms.
Finally, Shiloh’s met someone who is supercute and
totally into her, but Trent is immersed in the cunning deception that surrounds
the mysterious Craven Manor. So much so that he may lose sight of what is truly
important to him. And she can’t decide whether she wants to shake him or kiss
him. Yet neither one of them can deny the immediate, passionate connection
growing between them.
But underlying everything is the fear that Trent
may be the next victim on a supernatural hit list, and Shiloh is the only
person with the power to save him…
With cryptic messages from a pesky wraith, Shiloh will finally begin to understand the
mysterious significance of the strange mark branded on her wrist and decide
how much she’s willing to sacrifice to protect the other teenagers in town.
Unfortunately, for Shiloh, not all ghosts want help
crossing over. Some want vengeance.
Ready for some thrills and
chills?
BUY BEAUTIFULLY BROKEN (Part One):
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