THE HOT RAINS OF SUMATRA

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A New Adventure  by Master Story Teller Thomas Emmon Pisano

"THIS THING IS REALLY GOOD!"

"YOUR BEST SO FAR!"

"A BREATHTAKING STORY"

 HERE IS AN EXCERPT FROM THIS NEW E-BOOK

“They are in trouble down in the engine room, I told the chief to enlist as many of the crew as possible to do whatever it takes to get the job done, that if they didn’t get power back to the engines we would surely sink and be lost.”

            That was not far from the truth; in fact I had been feeling the fear of sinking all through this ordeal. The motion of the ship was very erratic and the Dolphin was being shaken and the winds were swirling all around us. As I looked out the windows I saw something that made me cringe. The bow of the Dolphin was rising up out of the sea and riding a wave which was heading directly into the ship. We were now almost perpendicular to the sea, the wave was going to founder us, and the deck cargo of wood had broken free. As the logs became free they began to crash into things, becoming like projectiles. We fell to the sea and landed on our side, both masts cracked and the sea entered the bridge by bursting the windows out of the little house. We were now in the water and in the worst storm ever created by God. 

            That was the last time I ever saw my exec or anyone else from the crew. I could not breathe; I was under water and submerged for a least thirty seconds.  When I surfaced I was in the sea being pushed under water by the vicious wind and stinging rain ripped at my eyes. The one thing I found was that there was no storm below the water; all was calm.  But on the surface all hell was breaking loose.

            I was a dead man, at the mercy of a raging sea.  As I bobbed around and fought to keep from drowning I felt something around my ankle; I dove under water to find what had bound my leg. It was a piece of line, a half inch piece of hemp. I pulled it up, ten feet of the stuff I had found. The storm was worse, but what was happening to me couldn’t get any worse. I was in the worst place a man had ever been on the sea, shipwrecked in the middle of a typhoon. I saw something moving in the water ahead of me. I tied the rope around my waist and swam for the object that was twenty yards away, some debris.

            I reached for the dark shadow of debris floating in front of me; it was one of those damn logs, just bobbing along in the sea. I hugged the thing and clung to it while the storm increased in intensity. I had to keep my eyes closed most of the time, the stinging from the rain and sea burned my eyes. I called out, “Hello, is any one out there?”

            I could hear nothing except the roar of the storm...

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AN EXCERPT FROM LAST PLAY AT COYOTE HOLES

CHAPTER ONE:   The Desolate Horizon

Blazing! Wild, untamed, the wind and earth fight, the endless dance of struggle and survival. We see the cycle of life in an exploding sunset.

The Mohave, hot, scorched, and barren, the searing, dry sun beating down on the land all the day and half the night.  A teaming buzzing land with more insects than brains, cruel, and ready to eat the eyes out of your head. Neither man nor beast is safe from the half dozen different flies, which swarm this arid land.  Survival of the fittest is commonplace here on the desert floor, a relentless fight for life.

The sunsets are spectacular...

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