wildly flowing hair was a good look for her, and here’s what she did: She popped into a handstand right there in the Oval Office, shook out her hair, and said, “How’s that?” What a woman. I guess her muscles had recovered.
Ray gave me a man hug, and we compared injuries. His forehead stitches were like mine and he’d cracked some ribs. When the chutes had deployed, three of the lines snagged in the Canadarm remnant. That’s why two parachutes failed to open. The diver delayed giving the thumbs-up because the violent splashdown had knocked Ray unconscious and there was a lot of blood in the cockpit. The engineers had packed that thing full of padding, like one of those high-school science projects in which students try to keep an egg in a box from breaking, but it wasn’t quite enough for the violent landing.
Everyone thanked me, saying that Ray and Catherine wouldn’t be alive today had I not located the evil ray gun.
Aw, shucks.
President Obama thanked Mary for letting the government borrow me.
“And, Jake,” he said. “I have a special present for you.” He wore a huge smile. He reached behind his historic desk and pulled out a framed photograph with a bow on it.
The White House photographer had caught my moment of infamy in the Situation Room perfectly. Several faces shared a look of horror as my hotel breakfast flew in an arc toward President Obama. His eyes were wide, and he’d jerked his head back. His arms pushed against the table in what would be a futile attempt to avoid the incoming fusillade.
I clapped a hand over my eyes. “No, no. This won’t get out on the internet, right?”
Obama laughed. “No, Jake, I have personally classified this photograph as top secret.”
Mary held it out in front of her and smiled at me. “Our son or daughter will love this.”
I frowned and blinked at her for a few seconds. “You mean …”
Mary nodded.
Look out, world. More Corbys on the way.
REQUEST FOR REVIEWS, NEWSLETTER SIGN-UP
Thank you for reading my book. I had great fun writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
I have a small favor to ask. Could you take a minute and write a short review of this book on Amazon? I don’t spend much on advertising, and this is one of the few ways that I can let others know about my books. I read all my reviews and enjoy getting feedback about my writing.
Please click here to write a review of The Antiterrorist
Feel free, as well, to send me an email at [email protected] . I will personally respond to all the emails I receive, unless I become as popular as Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, in which case someone from my staff will reply to you.
Finally, please subscribe to my newsletter , and I’ll notify you whenever I come out with a new release. I won’t share your email address with anyone else, and you can unsubscribe at any time. Also, I’ll occasionally use it to alert you to free books that I’ve enjoyed.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I learned so much from my critique partners on CritiqueCircle.com. Special thanks to Amaruska, Bizmuth, Lauraeve, Ratrilyn, Sjrichards, Huzcotoq, Jeff Tanyard, De-paine, Bgood, Rxd01, Jaramsli, and others.
Thanks also to Lena Macy, Gail Summerville, Carol Macy, Calen Nakash, and others who helped me review my work.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Al Macy writes because he has stories to tell. In school he was the class clown and always the first volunteer for show and tell. His teachers would say “Al has a lot of imagination.” Then they'd roll their eyes.
But he put his storytelling on the back burner until he retired and wrote a blog about his efforts to improve his piano sight-reading. That's when his love of storytelling burbled up to the surface, along with quirky words like “burble.”
He had even more fun writing his second book, Drive, Ride, Repeat , but was bummed by non-fiction's need to stick to “the truth” (yucko). From then on it was
Ray gave me a man hug, and we compared injuries. His forehead stitches were like mine and he’d cracked some ribs. When the chutes had deployed, three of the lines snagged in the Canadarm remnant. That’s why two parachutes failed to open. The diver delayed giving the thumbs-up because the violent splashdown had knocked Ray unconscious and there was a lot of blood in the cockpit. The engineers had packed that thing full of padding, like one of those high-school science projects in which students try to keep an egg in a box from breaking, but it wasn’t quite enough for the violent landing.
Everyone thanked me, saying that Ray and Catherine wouldn’t be alive today had I not located the evil ray gun.
Aw, shucks.
President Obama thanked Mary for letting the government borrow me.
“And, Jake,” he said. “I have a special present for you.” He wore a huge smile. He reached behind his historic desk and pulled out a framed photograph with a bow on it.
The White House photographer had caught my moment of infamy in the Situation Room perfectly. Several faces shared a look of horror as my hotel breakfast flew in an arc toward President Obama. His eyes were wide, and he’d jerked his head back. His arms pushed against the table in what would be a futile attempt to avoid the incoming fusillade.
I clapped a hand over my eyes. “No, no. This won’t get out on the internet, right?”
Obama laughed. “No, Jake, I have personally classified this photograph as top secret.”
Mary held it out in front of her and smiled at me. “Our son or daughter will love this.”
I frowned and blinked at her for a few seconds. “You mean …”
Mary nodded.
Look out, world. More Corbys on the way.
REQUEST FOR REVIEWS, NEWSLETTER SIGN-UP
Thank you for reading my book. I had great fun writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
I have a small favor to ask. Could you take a minute and write a short review of this book on Amazon? I don’t spend much on advertising, and this is one of the few ways that I can let others know about my books. I read all my reviews and enjoy getting feedback about my writing.
Please click here to write a review of The Antiterrorist
Feel free, as well, to send me an email at [email protected] . I will personally respond to all the emails I receive, unless I become as popular as Stephen King or J.K. Rowling, in which case someone from my staff will reply to you.
Finally, please subscribe to my newsletter , and I’ll notify you whenever I come out with a new release. I won’t share your email address with anyone else, and you can unsubscribe at any time. Also, I’ll occasionally use it to alert you to free books that I’ve enjoyed.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I learned so much from my critique partners on CritiqueCircle.com. Special thanks to Amaruska, Bizmuth, Lauraeve, Ratrilyn, Sjrichards, Huzcotoq, Jeff Tanyard, De-paine, Bgood, Rxd01, Jaramsli, and others.
Thanks also to Lena Macy, Gail Summerville, Carol Macy, Calen Nakash, and others who helped me review my work.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Al Macy writes because he has stories to tell. In school he was the class clown and always the first volunteer for show and tell. His teachers would say “Al has a lot of imagination.” Then they'd roll their eyes.
But he put his storytelling on the back burner until he retired and wrote a blog about his efforts to improve his piano sight-reading. That's when his love of storytelling burbled up to the surface, along with quirky words like “burble.”
He had even more fun writing his second book, Drive, Ride, Repeat , but was bummed by non-fiction's need to stick to “the truth” (yucko). From then on it was
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