Jack of Harts

One of the hardest parts of getting back into the writing gig has been… getting back into the writing. The muse that always has ideas doesn’t drive me like they it did before. Which sometimes makes it hard to write. So I’ve been looking around at various short story submission sites looking for story prompts for their open calls. I find one I like, and I start working on writing a story that covers that idea. It’s a good way to get the creative juices working again. Right now I’m working on writing a short story concerning a contested troop landing in the New New York system. When the New England Federation gets rid of people who do not promote the common peace, New New York is where they send them. Then the aliens attacked. The poor… poor… aliens…

Since I started writing Jack of Harts, I have contracted artists to bring my ideas to life. Some have been one and done, mostly due to budgetary issues, while I still work with others over a decade later. I’ve proudly watched both Alderfek and Stephen Huda go on to bigger and better things over the years. Alderfek creates a series of spaceship gaming miniatures, and Stephen creates designs and art published by multiple gaming companies. Alderfek created multiple concept designs for me when I was writing my first novel, and I contracted Stephen to take one of those designs and create an amazing cover for that book. Forge of War. It still looks amazing over decade later. Truly timeless art. Here is that piece. The art is all him. You can blame me for the text.

We found hyperspace in 2105 and the Great Space Race began. Alliances, nations, corporations, and religions reached out for the stars and humanity spread beyond the Solar System. We learned the answer to one of the oldest questions of all time in 2205. Are we alone? They brought medicines with them that nearly wiped out diseases, and extended the human lifespan into the centuries. They helped us study advanced technologies, and we expanded our colonies hundreds of lightyears from Earth. It was a golden age that many thought would never end.

Jack grew up in a world at peace, his only interests, partying and girls. But then an alien sneak attack killed millions of Americans, and wiped out almost everything and everybody Jack knew. He volunteered to serve and kick the alien scum back to the other side of the galaxy. But the Marines wanted more than people looking for revenge, and cybernetic partners demanded a far higher commitment. If Jack wanted to earn his commission as a Marine Corps fighter pilot, he had to grow up. He had to let himself be forged into something stronger than he’d ever wanted to be. He had to live up to the name of his squadron.

The Republic of Texas Marine Corps Fighter Attack Squadron 112. The Cowboys.

Jack generated by JuggernautXL 5 at dezgo.com