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Excerpt of Kyle's Army at bottom of "About Author " page.
This instruction manual will help you write your own novel. It has step by step instructions with sample pages to help you along the way. 



This short story begins at the end of the novel "Excursion".   
In the early morning hours of January 25, 1995 the country of Norway launched an American made missile carrying a satellite to study the effects of the Aurora Borealis known as the Northern Lights. Major countries including Russia were notified of the launch. The message never reached proper channels in the Russian military, and a full scale launch of its nuclear arsenal was released. The American President had no other choice but to respond with a full retaliatory strike. The end of the world was decided by a glitch in Russia’s linguistic translation computer. The American public was not informed that their lives were going to end within a half an hour.
  Just as the United States launched its missiles, NORAD (North American Aerospace Defense Command) while monitoring the Russian missiles trajectory, detected a vertically focused heat signature emanating from a location in the Bermuda triangle. It was a beam of white energy and when it reached the upper atmosphere, it encircled the globe with a blue and red glow that caused the moon to illuminate bright red. The Russian war-heads entering over all major cities in the United States fell harmlessly, one killing an escaped convict who had just left the scene of a deadly accident on the George Washington Bridge in New York. Seven minutes later the U.S. missiles did the same, crashing to the ground all over Russia. Two minutes later, thousands of white flashing balls of light the size of basketballs flew into the air from the same area in the Bermuda Triangle. They encircled the entire Earth in a geometrical pattern and began emanating an EMP (Electro Magnetic Pulse) in waves, temporarily disabling all satellites in orbit and forcing planes to land. An hour later the pulses became one continuous cycle focusing downward to the surface stopping everything that ran on electricity. The world was forced back into the nineteenth century in less than two hours after it was almost destroyed.     
  The President was given the all clear to leave the fallout shelter deep under the White House. It was completely dark as his Chief of Staff briefed him as to what happened prior to the blackout.
  One secret service man who took the point, guided the President, his family, and key members of his cabinet up the dark stairway with a pocket cigarette lighter. “Sir, NORAD indicated the source emanated about fifty miles southwest of the Bermuda islands.”
  “What caused the blackout?” asked the President as they continued walking up the endless stairway.
  “Several orbs from that same location in the Triangle, took up geometrical positions in a low Earth orbit. We think it’s a high frequency EMP burst that’s constantly bombarding the surface. Nothing electrical is working.”
  “When we reach my office,” ordered the President. “I want some form of communication established. Send out couriers to our top scientist including NASA and have them find a solution.”
  “Yes Sir.”
  Five years had past and a solution was never found. The world was working powerless once again, and chaos fell upon cities and small towns. Food shortages were everywhere because of inoperative transportation and the equipment including refrigerators to preserve perishable foods. Plowing fields was done by animals once again and it was only for survival.
  Washington DC was in ruins as the city was abandoned and the government dissolved. The people of America believed the world would have been better off if the bombs had exploded. 
  The scenario determined by the military after a nuclear war had come true except for no radiation and destroyed cities. Man was predicted to live savagely, killing and raping, acquiring property by force, and even committing cannibalism, resulted from starvation. Darwin’s theory had somewhat come true about how only the strong would survive. He didn’t predict it with the interference of aliens that eliminated all forms electricity.
  England had maintained order throughout most of the country since it was small and prior to the incident, not allowing its citizens to have guns. The British military had planned and maintained a multitude of food warehouses. They learned from the famine of World War II that people cannot work hungry. This enabled them to ration and create a workforce of farmers to feed the public, restarting a way of life before electricity.
  The United States government hadn’t given up on the country. Their top scientists were ordered to a secret underground base. They developed a way to block the EMP pulse, and create a new form of electrical transference through a thin metallic crystal the size of human hair. 
  In 1998 a secret underground base in Utah had seventy percent of its electrical power restored, running off special concealed surface pipes heated by the sun’s rays to power a crudely designed steam generated turbine. The new form of wiring took a year to manufacture and was installed throughout key sections of the base, mainly in the production science labs. 
  The scientist knew the orbs in orbit were supplied powered from the same area in the Bermuda Triangle. What they didn’t know was who or what was controlling them. 
  Pilots Kyle Jameson and Joe Madison were trapped at the base when the EMP first hit. They were to fly the FBI to New York, to contain a mutant form of canines that lived and bred in a sealed section of an old train subway. Both men were sitting in a temporary well lit cafeteria set up on level 5. The main cafeteria on level 2 was too close to the surface. All electrical equipment on levels 1 and 2 didn’t work. The science labs located on level 5 and 6, all focused on finding a way to stop the pulse.  
  “I am tired of eating cold MRE’s (Meals Ready to Eat). My clogged behind can’t take it anymore,” Joe said almost angry.
  “Tomorrow night we’re having a hot meal,’ said Kyle. “I heard it’s only for one night a week.”
  “If they let me build a fire…I could probably down this crap.”
  “Joe, you do know a lot of people are starving in this country?”
  “I know…I shouldn’t be complaining.”
  “I heard a mission is being planned if the special package arrives.”
  “Let me guess?” asked Joe. “It’s coming in by mule.”
  “Horse, I think.”
  “That could take months.”
  “It’s coming from Salt Lake City.”
  “What is it?”
  “One of the Russian warheads.”
  “We’re in Utah, and a nuclear warhead is being muled in from Salt Lake City,” stated Joe. “We are then going to horseback ride it to Florida. Catch a sail boat…and then drop it on whatever is controlling the orbiting orbs.”
  “I only know…that the warhead is going to be operational after we rewire it.”
  “I bet you the commander has decided to leave this world in a blaze of glory…and take us all with him,” Joe said simulating with his hands an explosion.

Larger pictures on the 
"About  Author" page at the bottom
Paintings By Michael Jones

Paperbacks are cheaper if you can find Michael and request copies from him. 

At the customs desk, Jaree was pulled to the side and questioned repeatedly about a discrepancy in his passport. He was then escorted to a secluded room as his family was allowed to enter the country. The room was dim with a table and two chairs on each side of it. He quietly sat in one of the chairs for ten minutes, and then heard a female’s scratchy voice through the right-side wall. It was a seventy-year old Arab woman telling customs, she didn’t put the Israeli made Jericho 941, Desert Eagle pistol up her vagina. 
  “I’m too old,” she said with a crackling voice. “Why would I put that thing up there?”
  “Maybe to hi-jack a plane,” said a man’s voice. 
  “I’m traveling alone…to visit my son in Washington DC,” she said nervously. “Who’s going to pull it out…I can’t.”
  “Tel Aviv has x-ray machines too,” said another voice Jaree thought was a customs agent, “So how did you get it pass Israeli security?”
  “I bet you…those bastards shoved it up there?”
  “We’re not playing games,” shouted the other agent. Jaree began to smile. “You better stop the lies old woman…you know how it got up there.” The other agent then whispered into his partner ear.
  “Have the Feds take her downtown and book her for conspiracy to commit a terrorist act.”
  “The gun is still up there,” said the other agent almost gagging. “I’m not getting it out…I had a big lunch.” The other agent made a cell phone call.
  “The chief said, either lube up your left hand or take her to the hospital under police escort.”
  “I’ll take her to Grady Hospital,” said the agent helping the old handcuffed Muslim woman out of the chair. “They can handle shocking shit like this.” Jaree giggled and then heard a different set of footsteps heading toward his room door. He became extremely nervous as the door slowly swung open. A tall white male in a black suit walked in while looking carefully at Jaree’s passport.
  “Are you Jaree Steva Nabim?” asked the agent.
  “Yes…I mean no,” Jaree said nervously. “My name is…who are you?”
  “I’m Agent Fuller from the FBI…is it yes or is it no?”
  “My middle name is not Steva…it’s Steven.”
  “You were born in India…so why would you have the name of a European white male?”
  “It was the name of a British soldier that saved my grandfather’s life against the Nazi’s in Burma,” Jaree said nervously. “My grandfather’s dying wish was…that every child in our lineage, have his name.”  
  Agent Fuller then handed him his passport and turned to leave. “Thanks for clearing that up…you’re free to go. Your wife and kids are waiting for you at baggage claim.”
  Jaree reached baggage claim ten minutes later and ran to his wife, giving her a long hug. She became worried and then asked. “Did they stick a hand up your ass?”
Mumbai Spy
Michael K. Jones
             Author and Painter