Written by M W Arnold
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Today I welcome author M W Arnold to my blog, and would like to thank him for providing an extract from his latest military romance, Wild Blue Yonder.
Wild Blue Yonder is currently on a blog tour organised by Rachel of Rachel's Random Resources. Why not follow the tour with these bloggers?
Wild Blue Yonder is currently on a blog tour organised by Rachel of Rachel's Random Resources. Why not follow the tour with these bloggers?
The blurb:
Wild Blue YonderAir Transport Auxiliary pilot Doris Winter is accused of stealing a valuable item from a famous Hollywood movie star, now a captain in the US Army Air Corps, after a dance at the air base in England where he's stationed. Gathering her close friends together, she's determined to clear her name.
Ruth's POW son suffers a life-changing injury just as her own cottage takes damage in an air raid and Penny's estranged little sister unexpectedly turns up, having run away from school. Together with the ongoing thefts of items of clothing and surprise personal revelations, these all threaten to hamper their investigation.
In spite of the worsening war situation, they must band together to rise above their troubles and prove love and friendship is worth fighting for.
Military Romance
WWII
Enjoy this short extract from Wild Blue Yonder
Air Transport Auxiliary (and American) pilot, Third Officer Doris Winter, has faked an emergency so she can land her Mosquito bomber at RAF Polebrook, hoping to investigate the charges brought against her. This is an operational USAAF B17 bomber base and she is about to find herself right in the middle of a life-threatening situation.
Doris, her face as grim as that of everyone around her, from the lowest-ranked corpsman to the adjutant who’d led her outside from the hangar only a very short while ago, watched as Jim Fredericks brought a pair of binoculars to his eyes. His face was ghost white.
“What is it?” Doris asked, her anxiety showing as she grabbed his arm. Looking in the same direction, she squinted but could still barely make out the shape of the incoming B17 bomber.
“Here.” Major Fredericks passed her the binoculars as he was given a walkie-talkie.
Muttering her thanks, Doris put them to her eyes and focused on the stricken plane. Almost at once, she wished she hadn’t. “For cripes’ sake!” she uttered as it came into view. “How the hell’s it still flying!”
In no way was it a question. Unable to help herself, Doris zoomed in and could quite clearly see the damage the aircraft had taken. The top half of the fin had been shot away, a good portion of the port wing seemed also to have disappeared, and one of its port engines was feathered and leaving a trail of thick, black smoke, as was the outer on the other side, though it was at least still turning. Only one of the main undercarriage wheels was down. The tailwheel also looked like it had been shot away, and the bomb bay doors were still open.
Taking the binoculars from her eyes, she wiped her brow clear of the sweat that had broken out as she took stock of the damage. Shaking her head in disbelief, she again muttered, “How in hell’s the pilot keeping her in the air!”
Unable to stop herself, she was about to put them back to her eyes when Jim Fredericks tapped her on the shoulder. “Sorry, Doris, but I’m going to need those back.”
Completely understanding, she held them out to him. Before he could put them back up to his eyes, she asked him if he could tell her anything else about it.
Many sights in her life had saddened her, but never had Doris seen the face he now turned upon her. Doris could only think of one expression to describe what she could see: complete and utter despair.
He glanced around before answering probably, she surmised, to make sure no one who didn’t need to know overheard what he was about to say. Taking her by the elbow, Fredericks led her until they were a little away from the crowd. Once satisfied, he told her, “You’ve seen the state it’s in?” Doris nodded. “It’s worse. Not only can’t they get the other undercarriage leg down, but they have a bomb hung up.”
“Bloody hell!” Doris swore. “They can’t get the wheel down or get rid of the bomb?” She felt very silly asking the questions, but they came out of their own accord.
Fredericks shook his head, his lips pursed in grim determination. “Believe me, they’ve tried everything.”
“Well, why don’t they bail out?” Doris demanded, fighting down the instinct to panic.
If anything, her companion’s face lost more color. “The members of the crew still alive are too badly wounded to survive bailing out,” he told her bluntly.
Doris took a few precious seconds to process what she’d been told, seconds during which the B17 droned its painful way ever closer to its destiny.
| Author Bio – M W Arnold |
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 Mick is a hopeless romantic who was born in England and spent fifteen years roaming around the world in the pay of HM Queen Elizabeth II in the Royal Air Force before putting down roots and realizing how much he missed the travel. He’s replaced it somewhat with his writing, including reviewing books and supporting fellow saga and romance authors in promoting their novels. He’s the proud keeper of two cats bent on world domination, is mad on the music of the Beach Boys, and enjoys the theatre and humoring his Manchester United-supporting wife. Finally, and most importantly, Mick is a full member of the Romantic Novelists Association. Wild Blue Yonder is the second novel in his Broken Wings series and he is very proud to be a part of the Vintage Rose Garden at The Wild Rose Press. |
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| @mick859 | |
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