Dee
S. Knight hasn’t led a dull life, she’s led a lucky one. For instance, she was
lucky enough to grow up in a military household where she got used to seeing
lots of handsome men in uniform. Thus, at thirteen she was prepared when she
met her future husband. He also grew up in a military family and then attended
a military high school and college. Another handsome man in uniform—Yes! Lucky
Dee!
For
the past forty+ years, as long-distance truckers, teachers, computer trainers
and consultants, Dee and her hubby have experienced many of their dreams and
happily lived the adventure they call their life. Wanderlust strikes often, but
fortunately they consider anywhere they’re together, home.
Only a Good Man Will Do: Seriously ambitious
man seeks woman to encourage his goals, support his (hopeful) position as
Headmaster of Westover Academy, and be purer than Caesar's wife. Good luck with
that!
Coming Home to finally being able to write about
Vietnam
Are
you a member of my generation? No, not Generation-X. I mean Generation-OTD
(Older Than Dirt). If so, the Vietnam War was a definitive event in your life.
The news bombarded you with it each night, you heard it debated in classrooms
and saw anti-war protests—or maybe participated in them. I grew up in a
military family, so I had a perspective of the war and politics that many of my
friends in school didn’t, but the war infected my life, just the same. You
couldn’t have lived in the US during the 1960s and 70s without that being the
case.
Because
Vietnam was such a huge part—though a hard, painful part—of my teen
years, I wanted both to put them behind me and to write about them in equal
parts. After long delays, I finally wrote two stories with Vietnam as the
backdrop. One is a novel, Burning Bridges (under the name Anne
Krist because it’s non-erotic, and in the process of being republished) and the
other is a paranormal novella, Coming
Home. Neither are statements on the war itself, just on how it affected
families, careers and lives.
Coming Home is a fictional account of a young
man’s Christmas leave during his tour of duty in Vietnam. Tom Stabler goes back
to his home, a Nebraska farm, and the world has shifted. His soul is troubled;
he’s seen things and done things he doesn’t know how to process. His parents
seem older, the house smaller. Then he is reunited with the girl he left
behind, and with her he finds peace. I think the cover says it all!
I
grounded Coming Home in Vietnam,
but Tom Stabler’s story is not unique, though it is more intense. On a smaller
scale, remember the first time you went back to your childhood home after being
away at college? Didn’t everything seem different? Lives changed, neighbors
came or went, and you weren’t there to experience it. You felt out of place,
slightly disoriented. Now you understand a bit about Tom and the idea behind Coming Home.
What
do you think? Have you ever had this feeling?
Unfortunately,
Coming Home was published by Whispers and went out of print with their closing.
But very soon I am providing a place on the Nomad Authors website for short
stories and novellas that will be available to subscribers to my newsletter, Aussie
to Yank. Please sign up (on NomadAUthors.co or by sending me an email) and
then please enjoy Coming Home.
Excerpt:
In this
excerpt, Private Tom Stabler is home from Vietnam for Christmas leave. His
childhood sweetheart is Susan Swenson, the girl who has arrived unexpectedly in
the middle of the night. Tom has just come outside to see her.
She was
leaning against the big elm tree in the front yard, hands tucked in her coat
pockets, her face toward the horizon where the North Star perched low in the
sky. Straightening and turning to face him as he approached, she smiled again,
so dazzlingly the heavens dimmed in comparison. Tom swore he wouldn't care if
they didn’t speak or touch or anything, if she would just keep smiling.
“Hi,
Susan.”
“Hey, Tom.
Welcome home.”
Had her
voice always been this deep, this smooth? His insides melted just listening to
her. At the same, God! Instant hard-on. He shifted his stance and hoped Susan
couldn't tell. “Thanks.”
Suddenly,
she seemed shy, ducking her head to examine her shoes, scuffing the frost
covered grass. He'd grown another couple of inches in the Army, and his lean
body was strong and quick. He liked the contrast in their height and size,
enjoyed the confidence he could protect her like a warrior, or tuck her gently
against his chest where her ear would be over his heart. His heart which
threatened to burst through his chest, being this close to the object of his
dreams.
“I’m
surprised to see you. It’s early, you know?” It’s early, you know?
Hadn’t he learned anything about how to talk to a woman after nearly two years
in the Army? Granted, for the last few months he hadn't had much opportunity to
practice romantic lines, but Christ. Fortunately, Susan didn’t seem to notice
his lapse in seductive conversation.
She
nodded. “I filled in for a friend at the hospital, so she could get an early
start on the holiday. We only have off until the day after Christmas, and she
lives in Oklahoma. I’d planned to sleep in, do a little work, and drive up
early this afternoon, but I was in a hurry.” She gave a funny, kind of half
smile. Like she had a secret and would split at the seams if she couldn’t tell
someone.
Tom
laughed softly, his breath freezing in the morning air. He waved his hands
toward the pasture land, over the fence, and beyond the tree where they stood.
“Missed the damned old cows so much you just couldn’t wait until later, huh? Or
was it the empty corn fields of your dad’s you were in a hurry for?”
Cocking
her head, she said, “Neither, smart aleck.”
He jammed
his hands in his pocket. Shit! It was colder than a witch's tit out here. Susan
must be freezing. “Well, then, why did you rush back to the middle of
nowhere before daylight?”
Stepping
forward, she rose on tiptoes and crooked her finger. Smiling, he bent to her.
She whispered in his ear, “To see you, silly. I couldn’t wait to see
you.” She pecked his cheek then stood back. Her cheeks blushed as pink as a
prairie dawn.
Sucking in
his breath nearly froze his tonsils. He gazed down into eyes he knew to be the
bluest blue. … His fists clenched in his pockets, lest he pull her to him and
take her on the hood of her car—the only warm place not inside his parents’
house.
“Oh,
look!” She’d turned back toward the north, and he followed her direction just
in time to see the death of a star. She looked up at him. The quick smile on
her face sounded in her voice, too. “Did you make a wish?”
“Nah,
that’s kid stuff. Or girl stuff,” he teased. Yeah, girl stuff. Susan
stuff he wanted so badly he could taste it. He needed her goodness and
sweetness and the passion he was certain she held just for him. And he wanted
something else, too, something he couldn’t quite name but which he knew she
could give him.
He kicked
the thought aside. The last thing he wanted was to psychoanalyze this moment.
Suddenly,
her smile faded, and she reached up to hold his cheek in her palm. “It’s not
silly, Tommy. You’re here because I wished for you, you know. I wished for you
to come home so hard I knew it would happen, and here you are.”
The
intensity of her words struck his heart at the same time a shiver ran up his
spine. He covered her hand with his own. “Yes, here I am.”
Time
stopped. The wind died away. Not a blade of grass moved, nor a cow nor a car on
the road a quarter mile away. The stars twinkled, but that was okay—just then
they owned the stars.
“And here I am,” she
whispered.
Author links:
Website: https://nomadauthors.com
Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN
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