check my short story collection out...

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/juniper%e2%80%99s-daughter-war-is-obsolete-%e2%80%93-futility-and-hope/18921760?productTrackingContext=author_spotlight_3115061_ with a new story on Amelia Earhart...

FOUND

FOUND

I am so happy to have found you again! At this moment I think we are fine

and have no worries. You are in my head, you see, I went to the library and saw your words online. I imagined your voice in my head sounding the same as it did long ago but time has no meaning here, just pure emotions as sharp as crystal, as easily shattered.

Damn this bad weather, you should be here with me in my arms and my life,

permanently. When will you stand before me and speak to me face to face?

To meet you would be so very special, I do wonder how we would get on,

here in reality.

Look into my eyes – I’ll share my soul with you and hold you close.

All I can offer you is my life, my company, my love. Is that enough?

I have no car, no house. A girl?

Soon I will read your words. I feel sad that you’re bored in your new English home.

I party like hell in my goth clubs and see my bands. Wish you was here to share

these moments with me, to show you some fun, a gig or a club, my life.

One day I’ll have a girl, will it be you? My girl on my wall has been my love for 13

years but you are real. I imagine she was you staring out at me from a storm-torn sky. Yet you are a real girl, woman. Come here to me and hold me tight and dare

to understand me, tell me about you.

Draw me a picture, write me a poem, share my life as I endure my loneliness and think of you ***** ***** ******.

SEXY LIL X did the yanks use x planes in secret cia wars??

SEXY LIL X 

“She was just fuel, an engine, airframe and two guns. A real close range killer. Like my first wife.” CIA X plane pilot who flew the X-5 in combat. 

   I went back into the small quiet pub several times over the next few weeks hoping to see Bubba and hear more of his amazing stories but he wasn’t there. I was so disappointed. I knew if was too good to be true, his story was probably made up and he must have had no follow up. Then a month after I first saw him he was there just like the first time. My excitement jumped to the roof and I couldn’t believe it! He was here, would he want to continue his tale of flying and battle I wondered? Nodding to me from the bar he invited me to join him; I smiled and greeted Bubba, asking him what he was drinking. It didn’t matter he had a half drunk pint; it was a good trade off, a beer for a wicked story.

   We got our greetings and how are you’s out of the way. This time we went and sat over in the corner by the log fire. This way it was more private, for the boozer was getting packed and I think Bubba was a bit uneasy about talking when the pub was full of strangers. Anyhow he continued: “Well Nick, when I met you last month I told you a bit about my secret flying career flying secret missions in specialised jets. I told you about my hectic days in my Douglas X-3 Stiletto and how we modified her and our other jets for battle. She was damaged in a close battle where we sadly lost one of our buddies, Bert. In that fight we learnt a number of harsh lessons, they were – to be more aggressive and to attack even if out numbered and in a bad situation; to not be separated from the support of our wingmen under any circumstances, this is how we lost Bert and how I was damaged; finally, we understood that we could beat any enemy who flew any aircraft, no matter how fast or agile, if we were better pilots. When I flew my Bell X-5 for three weeks I put these lessons to the test.”

   “Yes I remember every bit of your first story. It was very interesting; I’m looking forward to the next bit!” I ventured eager for his next bit of his amazing escapade.

   “I bet you are!” he laughed finishing his beer and taking a drink of his second one I got him.

   “You can say that again! How did your X-3 handle when compared to the X-5, was it a better jet?” I asked Bert, not taking my eyes off him.

   He looked into space and thought deeply before answering, “It’s not as simple as which jet was the better. For example, the X-3 was much faster in level flight and could touch almost a thousand miles per hour in a steep dive with both burners on. She rolled like the devil too but couldn’t turn well with her small wings. Compared to the X-5 she was a bus when you take into account her manoeuvre capability.”

   “They sound like two totally different machines,” I commented.

   “Yes you’re right, they were. Imagine a sports car compared to a pick up truck and you get the idea. The X-5 could out turn and out fly any jet ever built but she was slow and couldn’t run away if she had to, she had to fight to the end. And doing all those tight gut-wrenching manoeuvres took it out of you, I can tell you! For three weeks while my dear X-3 was being fixed I flew the X-5 and had three major fights in her. One was a real bitch I can tell you. Before I do though, I’ll tell you about the Bell X-5, she goes way back how far you won’t believe!” Bert laughed finishing his beer.

   “Sounds good,” I replied.

   “Want a beer Nick?” he asked getting his cash ready to pay.

   “Yes mate thanks,” I agreed downing my own drink. A new pint was placed in front of me.

   “You know about World War2?” he asked me and I nodded, “Well the Nazi’s were fighting for their lives. They made a number of advanced jet aircraft with swept wings and high speed capability. Our prop planes were totally outclassed and we risked losing the war. If their jets had been around a year earlier we would have lost but Hitler screwed it all up. Their most dangerous and advanced fighter was built by Messerschmitt. And it wasn’t their 262 which gave our fighters and bombers such a hard time, no it was a prototype called the P1101. A very advanced little thing with swept wings that could be moved to different positions on the ground, we call this variable geometry now – the ability to change shape. Today planes can do this in flight to get maximum performance and efficiency, back then the P1101 had to be adjusted on the ground. There was a single jet engine with an air intake in the nose and a jet exhaust under the mid fuselage. The tail plane was all swept for high-speed flight and the pilot sat high up over the nose. The German jet would have carried four big cannons to kill our bombers who were hitting Germany. It never flew before the end of the war and was captured by the Americans and taken back to the States. Here Bell Aircraft Company worked on it and in time developed a superior refined version called the X-5. She was tested, flown and gave valuable data in the fifties on swing-wings and their use at various speed. What was important was that she could move her wings in flight, whereas the German one’s wings were only adjustable on the ground. After testing the jet was passed over to us for our secret operations and modified with twin cannon mounted under the nose. This kept the weight down and still gave good hitting power. In a dogfight she was unbeatable, this was proven when the chase plane lost mock fights when she was being tested. You had to watch you didn’t stall with the wings swept to sixty degrees though because then she was a killer and would spin viciously, one test pilot was killed and his X-5 lost in one incident. I learnt from that and I never once came close to dying, I was a better pilot. I could read my airplane. Anyhow one thing led to another and I ended up flying her in South East Asia.”

   “What were the battles like when you fought in your X-5?” I asked.

  “There were three times when I engaged enemy jets. Each time the Vietnamese flew Mig 17 fighters, at the time the best Mig built for close combat. They were very similar to our X-5 in looks, speed and agility, with a danger for spinning. Much later an American Mig 17 would be lost with her pilot in a tragic accident. Back to my fights. I only damaged a single Mig on two occasions. Now if bigger guns were fitted I would have had definite kills. The third battle was a dead cert and a confirmed kill, I will never forget that one little incident, oh no!” the older man quietly said. He was leading up to a very important emotional episode.

   “In America we never had female pilots until the eighties. Vietnam had at least one young female pilot and maybe more when we fought against their air force in the early sixties. I met one in combat and shot her down. She gave me the most difficult and trying fight I ever had in an aircraft. I’ll never forget her.”

   “What do you mean? You fought a woman pilot flying a jet and killed her?” I gasped, almost going into shock.

   “Yes…yes I did. She almost got me you know? She was their best pilot and equal or even better to myself and my wingmen,” Bubba told me never taking his riveting gaze from me. I involuntarily looked away.

   “How did you know she was a woman pilot? And not men like the rest?” I eventually asked after a minute’s awkward silence.

   “How did I know?” he repeated my question. “The way she flew for a start. Her manoeuvres were fluid and followed one another with no breaks or wasted energy. Not even I can fly like that and I knew how tight a Mig 17 Fresco could turn. Or I thought I did till I saw her fly one and turn even tighter. She out turned me, teaching me a lesson that almost shot me down, that’s how I knew. And then we all heard her on the radio chattering away in Vietnamese. We knew we were up against someone special then. We actually wanted to damage her jet and force her down so a CIA helicopter could capture her. This didn’t quite work out though…”

   “Why what went wrong? Was she too good?”

   “Yes she was. She shot down Bret with heavy cannon fire after he had got her wingman. She was real pissed off I can tell you. His jet exploded and we thought he was dead but I saw his chute floating down to earth. I got on the radio to the CIA chopper to go and rescue him; meanwhile I had to keep the Vietnamese bitch from shooting Bret in his chute. She dove on him but my other wingman and I followed her and he fired a missile without locking on. It flew wide but it broke up her attack on Brett. Hell, the bitch had shot him down once, we was damned if we was going to let her do it again,” the ex pilot explained, smiling grimly. He got up and ordered two more beers.

   I shouted over and offered to pay. He waived my offer away and gave the bar girl a twenty and told her to keep the change. Bert returned with two pints of warm beer. I eagerly finished my other drink and took the new pint.

   “What happened then, didn’t the missile shot scare her off? What did you do?”

   “No it just distracted her from nailing my buddy in his chute. I closed the distance to guns range but my X-5 was slow and she pushed her nose down and out distanced me. I fired a shot from beyond max range hoping to scare her. It didn’t work. My wingman had little fuel so he fired his missile at her from above at her; it was decoyed by the sun reflecting on a small lake and missed. I ordered my wingman to return to base. Foolishly I followed her trying to gain on her. I could be heading for a trap but I didn’t care, I wanted her ass and her jet.”

   “How did you get her?” I asked. I watched him show me with his hands as he spoke. It was like a dance. A deadly dance.

   “I didn’t. She came to get me. I think she thought I was an easy kill. She poured on the power and lit her burner and zoomed up in a huge loop coming up and over, then down onto me. I climbed and waited to dodge her heavy cannon fire which outranged my twin 20mm guns on my X-5 by a large margin. She fired and I rolled off my track and then reversed course, aiming for her. She missed and could still get a second shot off. I fired again and hit her, only damaging her. She fired. I wasn’t where she thought I whould be. I snap rolled using up all my airspeed dodging her fire. I turned tightly just above the stall with my wings fully forward, she zoomed past almost supersonic. She tried to lose speed to come and get me. I turned and fired again but missed. She was way past me. My ammo was going now so my last shot had to get her. She slowed and turned to me, I changed course slightly and turned into her attack but she held fire. I out turned her due to my slow airspeed, she followed me and managed to get on my tail. I increased speed so to not stall and turned tighter, I almost blacked out due to the g-force. I didn’t wear a g-suit coz I couldn’t feel my jet, which almost cost me my life there and then. I nearly blacked out. I saw her tracer fire shoot past two separate lines of shells. She had two different size cannon types. Her guns were meant to shoot bombers down and a single hit could kill me. I did another turn but I knew our turn radius was almost the same size. If this continued she would come round and get me within the next turn. I did a flick roll out of the turn and almost entered a high-speed stall and spin. In an X-5 that could be fatal but I knew my jet and she didn’t let me down. I dove down to the jungle and levelled off above the trees. She came down to chase me. It was then I heard her chatter over the radio and I knew she was a woman, this explained her tighter than average turns in her Mig. She had more G tolerance,” Bubba explained, almost a lecture.

   I was confused on this G tolerance business and I kept quiet. Whirling images clouded my mind. In reality I’d never know what it was like.

   “My fuel was nearly at bingo level, time to RTB. I used one last trick to get her. I climbed up in a power climb and looped down on top of her. She was only starting to pull up when I nearly overstressed my bird and got her good and square in my gun sight; my last forty rounds of twenty millimetre nailed her. Her jet exploded and went straight into the trees; she never got out or stood a chance. And I had my fourth kill, with one more I’d be an ace!”  Bubba grinned drinking the rest of his beer.

   “That must have been a close fight, she almost got you on the turn but you reversed the fight and looped up to get her. Just like a game of chess!” I smiled, now understanding the basics of a dogfight. It was move and countermove. Just like chess or any tactical game.

   “Exactly young man! I’ll have a pint if you’re going!” the grizzled old vet said. Who was I to refuse? What an earth would he tell me next, that he had saved the world from World war 3?   

ICE FLY

ICE FLY

How many pilots died and old aircraft lost when they flew over jagged snowy peaks in the remotest corners of the world? Doing a dangerous job knowing the risks and trusting in fate and luck to bring the through. Some never made it, there planes impacting vertical mountain sides in sickening crashes. Bodies lost forever, frozen in the time of death. Icily cold and otherworldly remote.

From the Andes to Himalayas, Alps to the Rockies. If you screw up or your engine stops, you’re going to crash and suffer. Survive and you’re screwed, twenty thousand feet above sea level with no chance of rescue, just a slow cold death.

Of the ones who live and beat death in the mountains, they have stories to hold their grand kids in awe. Did you really fly a C-46 over the Hump, risking Jap fighters and Mother Nature? Sure did son, it was a walk in the park. Of the ones who didn’t make it, they remain forever on coldly beautiful mountains holding up the roof of the world.

Maybe their ghost will remain there forever, in rapture of the beauty of icy mountains, forgetting how they died.

read live in the sandbar manchester feb22 i also read Old Flame by Trish Reid of His Latest Flame.

ODE TO JULIANNE poem

ODE TO JULIANNE

I know a singer, she is such an angel and a Gothic princess, timeless.

From the legendary mid-80s Goth underground scene to today, her great music still captures witches and summer and forbidden love.

Never have such fragile words combined with such heavenly music, surreal in its beauty, real it its concept.

After four stunning albums the Eves called it a day but the tradition continued with

Mice and Jules et Jim; now time moves on and we have All About Eve back again.

What was once a blue ocean is now a crystal clear lake, musical perfection.

To be lucky to know Julianne is one of life’s joys and I’m one of the few to be more than just a fan of this great band.

ENGLISH GOTH 

   Diane was no ordinary English lady. She was a Goth, one with the night, who loved what she was into. It was her life and nothing comes close, not even guys who she frequently met in her young 24 years. She lived in the historical English town of Langford in the north of England. It wasn’t a big place, just large enough so people didn’t know your business. Diane was a private gal with red and black hair that was visually oh so beautiful, like her looks.

   Working in the local printing factory making blueprints for missiles, a topic that bored her, Diane was well off. The cash was good, allowing her to go out and be footloose and fancy-free. That suited her. On Monday Diane went to the Right Drunkard club that had dance night, if you liked gothic music from England’s past. Bands like the Cult, the Mission, All About Eve, the Sisters of Mercy, Ghost Dance and many more. Diane was into 80s Goth music but born at the wrong time to see her bands live, when they were young and vibrant. In the club she met Liam. He had seen every band that Diane loved in his 42 years.

   She wore a stunning short black number that was a sensual dress made of flowing layered sequined fabric adorned with cool black flowers. It showed off her shapely bare legs well above the knee, especially when she sat down. Choosing a table on the balcony bar that overlooked the dance floor on the lower level, she got a good view of guys and gals dancing and jiving to the best 80s alternative music in the world. A heavy pulsating rhythm bumped out of the speakers. Diane found herself nodding her head slowly to it and singing along to a song that spoke of a failed romance and of loneliness and death. Yet the song’s music was uplifting and a heady rush.

   Lifting her Bloody Mary drink to her lips and taking a generous mouthful, the alcohol rushed into her body warming her up. She would finish her drink and go dancing. The joy of the music overtook her as it did the other dancers who loved it, having the time of their lives. She downed her drink and got up to join them, making her way down the dark winding stairs to the dance floor. When she got there the record changed to a heavier slower song with a loud bass line and screaming guitar and loud vocals. Diane danced around, waving her arms and smiling like a cat with the cream as some people left the floor. This song wasn’t for them. It was for Diane. She danced into a lad who turned to look at her and smile. She gently held his arm before he moved out of reach and brought him towards her. The rhythm of the music gave them all a life of their own. Facing the boy, who was only eighteen, Diane pulled him towards her so they were touching. Smiling mischievously she kissed him slowly her tongue passing his delicate pale lips probing inside to meet his tongue that brushed hers. He closed his eyes and melted into Diane, she supported his weight and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment as the song pounded on in a slow mesmerising rhythm. The song wound down and the couple kissed in their close embrace. A new faster guitar driven track came over the speakers, DJ spun the discs. The boy pulled away withdrawing his tongue from Diane’s ending the coupling, to go and find his friends. She turned and slowly walked in a wavy line over the dance floor in the other direction, to the lower bar to buy a drink, still tasting the teenager on her warm moist lips. Looking up and down the bar she made eye contact with the barman and ordered a Screwdriver (double vodka, fresh orange juice and ice in a half pint glass). Paying and thanking him she walked around the club, which was rapidly filling up with happy young customers.

   Diane walked round the club checking the talent out, wanting to score. It had been 3 long weeks since she had bin naughty and made love to anyone. Tonight she wanted it more than ever, with a nice man who was like her - a Goth. One of the dark ones who lived in a twilight world of long shadows and poignant powerful music. It was then she saw him; standing by a stone pillar watching people dance to the music. Unaware that he himself was being watched, the hunter becoming the hunted. Diane walked over taking sips of her strong drink, feeling the alcohol go to her head and warm her insides up. She wasn’t shy but being out on her own brought a few momentary nerves. Being single and a bit forward gave no worries. Would that soon change? Her mind taunted her. Here we go! Next to the man who was still watching the dance floor, Diane stopped and introduced herself. “Hi there how are you? I’m Diane.”

   “Hello dark princess of the night, nice to meet you. I’m fine,” replied the tall dark stranger, turning to look at the gothic beauty standing before him, who blushed ever so slightly. This he noticed and smiled reassuringly so she wouldn’t turn and run away in embarrassment.

   “And nice to meet you…” Diane left a pause because the man hadn’t introduced himself. “I’ve not seen you here before,” she finished.

   “Oh, I’m Liam. Sorry, I’m always doing that! And yes, I’ve just moved to town just two weeks ago. I missed last months Goth night here due to that. I must say, I’m enjoying it!”  Liam replied loudly. He opened his arms and motioned to the dance floor that was full of people. “It’s a good club isn’t it? I’ve been into this music for many years, probably before you were born!”  he laughed.

   Diane went even redder. Thinking to herself, was she doing the right thing making an approach to an older man? It was too late now! She managed a smile. “Wow, that long? You don’t know my age. I could be a young looking thirty five.”

   “Well my dear Diane, age is only a number and I don’t mind how old you are coz you look stunning and are a real gothic queen, really you are. I can tell you like this music and aren’t one of the hangers on or someone who just looks the part in here, checking this place out.”

   “No, I love this music. All of the 80s Goth music, some metal and much more besides. I have many of the albums and saw what bands I could when they reformed a few years ago. Have you been to any gigs then?”

   “Oh yea Diane, I’ve been to many gigs. I’ve lost count how many, must be over a thousand gigs over my years. Both big bands and small bands that just did one show before splitting up. Maybe I should write a book on it one day…” Liam reminisced, looking into space no doubt remembering those heady times.

   “Hey, do you wanna dance or are you gonna stand there all night? Come on!” Diane insisted, grabbing Liam’s hand as he still thought about the old days and gigs and more. He followed her through the crush of people dancing and swaying this way and that on the packed floor while a new track came on. A stomping drum machine pulsated and a wicked guitar riff kicked out of the speakers. When the vocals started – a woman with a stunningly soaring voice – the crowd went crazy, a life force of energy flowed and they buzzed at every minute of it.

   Liam was pushed into Diane in the crush so they danced chest to chest when more people filled the dance floor as the song sang on in a heavenly rush. Dancers moved every way, hardly able to move their arms. They danced and jostled Diane so she was nearly carried away from Liam. She let out a yell in surprise. Liam held out his hands and steadied Diane, holding her around her waist and by her left elbow so she wouldn’t be stolen from him by the crowd.

   He smiled and she looked right into his eyes. She knew right then that his intentions were honourable and genuine. Diane returned his smile and gently placed her right hand on his neck to bring his head down; she kissed him once on the lips. As friends or had a line been crossed?

   The song, an industrial one still throbbed from the speakers, it must be an extended remix of the original track. What fun. Hundreds of people moved on the dance floor, in heaven. How could it ever be better than this? For two people who had just met, it was even better. Something was happening magical and fantastic. Right there and then, a spell cast so powerful it would never be broken. Out of nothing came something.

   Another song by a different band came on as the DJ faded the previous one out, the crowd of dancers slackened somewhat but neither Diane nor Liam wanted to break the spell that bewitched them both. It was a special moment that came only once in a human lifetime, they wanted to enjoy it and let it never end. Diane gently placed her head against Liam’s solid chest, her red and black hair looking wild under the flashing lights against his 1988 Fields of the Nephilim tour t-shirt. He brought an arm up to embrace Diane, to hold her close and he bowed his head to kiss the top of her head. In his heart Liam knew this was it. After two marriages, including one where his wife was wickedly taken away from him by cancer, he knew he had found his soulmate. Never again would he be alone. After this dance Liam would ask Diane to be his pagan bride. Would she spend the rest of her life with him? Would she?

   As Diane gently swooned against Liam’s chest she felt complete, something had happened. She didn’t know what and didn’t dare wonder how long it would last. Diane wouldn’t leave his side, not to go to the bar or to look for a younger man, wanting to be here no matter what it took or what her mother or her jealous so called friends would say. Other than her music, few things in her young life meant anything to her like this man who had gently taken her heart. Liam meant the world to her. How was it possible? It wasn’t was it? Was it a gothic fairy tale that would end when she opened her eyes or when the clock struck midnight? She never wanted it to end, it occurred to her the songs were right, well some of them. Love wasn’t dead and there was hope… 

my plane poem book is here...

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/aeroplane-related-poems-by-nick-armbrister/18891618?productTrackingContext=author_spotlight_3115061_ my plane poem book is here...

more early poems

GLITTERING LIKE STARS

I see the stars shining in the sky like so many diamonds cast upon black velvet;

they twinkle like blinking eyes catching the light on a warm spring evening.

Aren’t they a sight to behold? So close you can touch them but a hundred lifetimes away.

I sometimes wonder, are we alone or is there a God up there amongst the aliens?

Now the dawn appears, the sun chasing away the stars, bright golden colours cascading across the heavens.

Day has arrived and stars have no place now the sun banishes them to their darkness.

FACTORY LIFE

Here I am working in a factory, a humdrum place full of so many dreary people who chip away day after day to earn their keep till they’re dead.

You’re nothing but a number in the sanitised world of Park Cakes, putting cherries on cakes doing the same thing day after day doing your fuckin’ nut in.

But I ain’t complainin’ as I’m a lazy bones

paid all this money for doing sweet fuck all!

DESPAIR

The day started off just like summer with blue sky horizon to horizon and a steady sun rising – it’s almost a joy to be at work as days like this are so rare.

But it wasn’t to be, as the rain clouds come to dirty the sky with their grey ominous presence –

they fill me with despair and the day has gone to the dogs.

As the temperature drops I know it will rain, a portent of the day to come as it rapidly goes downhill in the hell that is Park cakes.

I wish the hours away and hope the day will end, quickly and without pain or anger.

AWAY

I see the long summer shadows scrawl across the ground just like you out of my life.

Can I ever forgive myself for hurting you, the one who was dearest to me?

Why did my actions deceive me in my darkest hour? I stared hell in the face and I paid the price – the price was you not now being my wife. Maybe in time the pain will go and your anger will fade but our marriage was wrecked by our arguing and my stupid actions.

CATACLYSM WORLD

Mother Nature screams in utter rage, a voice as loud as thunder and death and one Man can’t hear himself; yet he knows something is wrong – this is because he has ruined and taken and not given a damn, raping the world, His world and not caring one bit.

So She is concerned and now She acts in the only way that will get results – 

devastatingly so.

A new start is needed and the now will begin to end, soon.

A slight tug on the path of an asteroid from the path of a gas giant brings it onto the path of our world.

Mother nature is acting though man is blind to this – it will be months before His telescopes pick it up.

Upon impact five billion people will perish

in a blast of flame and debris and death and pain;

few survivors pray for their God but he doesn’t listen.

Mother Nature has taken Her revenge and now Man is gone,

only ashes remain of Him and His civilization.

In a million years a new world will have risen out of the ashes, free of Man.

After destruction comes the peace.

ANGELICA STRIKES

She smiles so seductively and cunningly, waiting to strike.

If you dare upset her you do so at your peril as she will use her

power against you without warning.

She sees everything that we all do and all we can hope to achieve.

Even your deepest thoughts and emotions are hers at one sudden glance.

If you are lucky she will take your soul while you sleep.

If you are caught awake you will end up a zombie staring at the sky

with empty, lost eyes.

TRAGIC LOSS

Heat haze shimmers over the sea which is coloured steel blue,

the beech is long and sloping with smooth sand leading to the sea.

Happily the two young children run and play in the warm sun,

everything seems so idyllic as they enjoy themselves.

Into the sea they go, running and splashing amongst the waves

which sparkle in the sun.

Suddenly the young girl is gone.

Her younger brother panics, too, before he goes beneath the waves.

Such a long way away both parents look to the sea so

calm and beautiful. Not seeing their children they both panic, knowing

already what has tragically happened.

JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER - FRAGMENTED WHOLE/BLACK LENSE

JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER - FRAGMENTED WHOLE/BLACK LENSE

http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3Lmx1bHUuY29tL3Byb2R1Y3QvcGFwZXJiYWNrL2p1bmlwZXIlZTIlODAlOTlzLWRhdWdodGVyLS0tZnJhZ21lbnRlZC13aG9sZWJsYWNrLWxlbnNlLzE4ODYxNjkzP3Byb2R1Y3RUcmFja2luZ0NvbnRleHQ9YXV0aG9yX3Nwb3RsaWdodF8zMTE1MDYx_

JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER - FRAGMENTED WHOLE/BLACK LENSE

Ebook short description

This is Nick Armbrister's new book, featuring short stories and poetry on a variety of topics, in his Juniper's Daughter series. Juniper's Daughter is a witch with a difference. With stories like Barren, about a woman banished to a remote island, and poetry on many topics, both light and dark, this book is Nick's first release of 2012. He is working on a new poetry collection for future release.

Extended description

This is Nick Armbrister's new book, featuring short stories and poetry on a variety of topics, in his Juniper's Daughter series. Juniper's Daughter is a witch with a difference; no flying broom here but a silver flying saucer! She stars in his other novels and her job is to fight evil and save the world. Will she win?

Stories like Barren, about a woman banished to a remote island and Fragmented Whole, where a holiday goes badly wrong for three streetwise women are here. Poetry on many topics, both light (like Damp, a trip outdoors on a rainy day), and dark (like I Become Nothing, a soul searching poem on war) are featured. This book is Nick's first release of 2012 and is in two parts in one volume; poetry and short stories.

He is working on a new poetry collection for future release.

CIRCLE GAL

Gal in the circle can go anywhere. Will she go to me and not be like the rest? She can go under the sea in her invisible magic sphere that protects her from harm. With the ability to camouflage it, she can hide in plain sight or appear as a normal girl. Her name is every name but I call her Juniper's Daughter. A wise witch without a broom. She uses a flying disc stolen from the aliens to fly about, fixing the broken world.

FLY

Where are you in the sky in relation to me? Looping round in a great curve coming to get me, down the other side. Do you see me in my green and yellow stunt plane? I see you in your oh so pretty wooden airplane moving like an angel. We fly and maneuver like swirling dervishes as the ground replaces the blue, unreal three dimensional actions. God must have let us do it. Nothing feels like it. Only flight.

SLEEPING MONSTER – JUNIPER'S DAUGHTER IN TROUBLE

She was in trouble and running for her life through the forest. She was mortal now, so very human and frail, as fragile as a spring flower under threat from an immense frost. The frost dragon was chasing Juniper's Daughter through the forest, a night terror threatening to suck the very lifeblood from the witch. A slow horrible awful human death with no rebirth, for she had made a pact with her number one enemy, Satan, and bargained her soul away for a mere mortal man, to save him from the gallows. To save his life so she could be with him for one short human lifetime, together.

Her Mother Juniper had gone crazy and tried to kill her daughter with lightning from the sky and small meteors from space. Slightly wounded and very scared, the former witch knew her Mother had failed. The woman who was once Juniper's Daughter lived and ran for her life, her Mother abandoned her only child who had cast her lot in with the Devil. For the sake of a mere mortal man who was condemned to death for stealing a chicken, such was the way in medieval Saxony. Would my Mother really kill me, wondered the panicked girl? Would she?

The ice dragon made another pass, sending freezing air and ice thundering down into the trees, missing the vulnerable girl by yards. Soon she would be hit, this she knew; it was her predicament now. Events from before led to this moment. How could she forget them?

***

A storm appeared before the man could be hung; torrential rain flooded the town square forcing the executioner and population to flee to higher ground, leaving the thief on the gallows. Juniper's Daughter caused the storm to save her love; against her Mother's wishes, for the man wasn't innocent, he was a criminal with a dark past of black arts and murder. Crimes he got away due to Satan backing him. He thought the theft of a single thin chicken to feed his starving stomach would go unpunished and noticed, for the first time in his life he was wrong. Satan was about to cause an earthquake to topple the gallows and free the man but something stopped him seconds before the ground shook. A freak storm not of his doing – Juniper's Daughter was here!

Clouds coiled in the blue sky darkening it, rain fell down in torrents drenching the crowd who wanted to see a hanging, good medieval entertainment. With the man now free and in the arms of the witch, Satan flung a lightning bolt down hitting the witch and burning her badly. She was on the edge of death with the former captive holding her head in his hands, enemy and witch crazily brought together in a surreal situation.

EXTRACTS

Heart Of The Country Short Story Collection extract and book link

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Heart-Country-Short-Story-Collection/dp/1447850246/ref=sr_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1328650458&sr=1-11

Heart Of The Country Short Story Collection by Nick Armbrister

SECOND CHANCE

Lisa and Norman met in the war. There story is a unique one and very much their own, one story amongst millions in a world at war. This is what happened to them and how they met.

In a time of war, Norman had done his basic training as an infantryman in the Manchester regiment. This unit was the closest to his small town of Ashton. He joined up and did his bit when his eighteenth birthday came by; still a boy not knowing how to shave or what a woman was. He was young, keen and very inexperienced. A green soldier, who wanted to learn and serve his country, like his mates had done. He was only a kid.

Rifle drill was Norman’s favourite topic, how to load and fire an old Lee Enfield rifle. Handling and stripping the weapon soon became second nature to the young man. He got the knack like his older brother had with many a loose woman, he knew the score and became competent. With women, Norman was the opposite of his brother, being shy, inexperienced and woefully useless. Norman’s brother served in the Royal Navy.

Walking down the parade ground on a quiet Tuesday morning, Norman grumbled to himself. I can handle my rifle with no trouble, strip and assemble it as fast as anyone in my squad, even at night. I can fire accurately at a target five hundred yards away. I’m a good soldier, surely better than any German is. So why do I feel bad? Why am I so bloody depressed? Is it that nice young girl I saw in town the other month when I was in the pub with my buddies? I know she was looking at them and not me. Why would she ever want to look at me? I mean... I’m nothing am I? Just a bloody soldier.

Suddenly it started to rain, this darkened his mood. He spat and swore, glaring down at the black tarmac parade ground. “Bloody rain. Why do I have to do guard duty on a Tuesday morning when my mates are learning about the Bren gun? It’s just me and my rifle out in this bloody rain!”

Norman carried on marching, pacing up and down doing his stint guarding the base. Orders were orders and his turn in the Bren gun class was the following week. He was an intelligent lad and knew he’d get the hang of the powerful weapon. His impatience made him curse the rain, his boss and having to wait for the Bren gun class. Then he thought about the girl again and he cursed again. He aimed a green spittle of phlegm and sent it flying. Bloody rain, bloody guard duty, bloody girl won’t want to date me. Bloody everything!

Up and down he marched, rifle on his shoulder. The rain increased in ferocity.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lisa was doing her nurses training. She wanted to serve her country but military roles available to her, were very limited because she was a woman. It was either serving tea or scones at the NAAFI (Navy, Army, Air Force Institute) to men in uniform, working in a grimy dangerous munitions factory or becoming a nurse. She chose the last option and joined on her seventeenth birthday.

With her schooling behind her, Lisa knew what she wanted to do. She was a quick learner but struggled with the varied role of being a nurse though confident in her responsibility. In time she hoped to be qualified and able to make fast life and death decisions. Time would tell but one small distraction troubled her.

I wonder who that quiet shy lad was I saw when we were in the pub. He seemed to notice me and I think he likes me. He looks so dishy! Lisa thought, her eyes becoming misty. She allowed herself to swoon for a while.

The bossy Matron brought the girl back to reality. Classes on how to give wounded soldiers a bed bath were in ten minutes and Matron was demanding everyone be clued up and alert.

Blast it! I’ve got to get ready for this. I hope I see that nice lad again when we’re in town again! I’ll ask him out. I don’t care who sees me, I don’t!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Guard duty over, Norman relaxed in his barrack block with his mates. As usual, the topic was bints and who had slept with the most women. Norman kept out of this talk and as usual, this gave the more seasoned worldly-wise men a chance to take the mickey and put him down. It wasn’t his fault he was a virgin!

“Hey Norman, is it true that you’re a virgin?”

“Do you want to shag my mother Nornam? She likes younger men!”

“Do you know how to do it?”

“Have you even kissed a girl?”

They taunted him mercilessly but he ignored them, though he wanted to cry. Not being a fighter or even tough, Norman sat there in silence reading a dog eared Bren gun manual. He didn’t want to use his close quarter hand to hand fighting training, not against his mates even though they took the piss out of him. Give me a Bren gun and I’ll show them, he angrily thought. He took their petty jokes.

“You won’t find out about birds in that book Norman. Here’s a rude magazine for you,” shouted one of the lads, throwing a tatty stained mag of dubious subject matter.

Norman never even glanced up at the lad or over to the rude magazine, which was open on the floor. A curvy brunette smiled from the page, her assets were on show and it was obvious she wasn’t shy.

Seeing that their taunts weren’t fazing Norman, the other soldiers left him be. He read the manual on the Bren gun but his thoughts were elsewhere, on a certain girl.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

HORNET RESURRECTION

HORNET RESURRECTION

Lady of the sky, flying so high up into the blue,

all silver, a cloud’s silver lining. Now nothing

but a ghost, image on an old photo, in memories.

My aching dream to resurrect the lady of the skies

and let her exist again. I know I will fail.

I am a mere man. Lady of the sky, where are you now?

Lady of the lake, under fresh water waiting to be found.

Lady of the desert, sand blasted bare all alone.

Lady of the mountain, high and desolate,

captured by a mountain peak. Lady of the ice sheet,

frozen in time and in an icy grace preserved.

Where can I find you? I’ll do a magic spell to find you,

make you real. Take to the skies again, not just in my mind.

You are the most beautiful airplane and the best of them all—

de Haviland Hornet.

FOREVER POND surreal poem

FOREVER POND

Gonna jump into the pond in my garden

down towards forever.

I see it crystal clear shimmering

like the very air on a winter’s day.

Love hearts stuck onto fragile flesh

mark my passage but yours is time,

stands time, as water flows and light sparkles

as distance is unwanted, direction is unknown.

On my way to you, wonder idly,

are you as fiery as Italian girl

in northern mill town over 50 years ago?

Set this water aflame

burn hydrogen atoms

in chemical nuclear fire by one glance.

Pull me down, surface lost, not known where

so I end up by your side together

in my forever pond caught in time

of no days, a year for our timeless love.

TAKE IT IN YOUR STRIDE A SERIES OF EROTIC ADULT STORIES is out now

TAKE IT IN YOUR STRIDE A SERIES OF EROTIC ADULT STORIES is out now

http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3Lmx1bHUuY29tL3Byb2R1Y3QvZWJvb2svdGFrZS1pdC1pbi15b3VyLXN0cmlkZS1hLXNlcmllcy1vZi1lcm90aWMtYWR1bHQtc3Rvcmllcy8xODQwMTAwMD9wcm9kdWN0VHJhY2tpbmdDb250ZXh0PWF1dGhvcl9zcG90bGlnaHRfMzExNTA2MQ==_

TAKE IT IN YOUR STRIDE A SERIES OF EROTIC ADULT STORIES

By Nick Armbrister

This collection features Nick's adult erotic stories for over 18s only. A series of short works about a variety of people making love in many different situations. From the Ian and Abby series to the Pussy Pounder collection, there's a bit of everything here for openminded people. Also gay/lesbian themes. Written 2009-2011

i have a web site on webs.com

http://nickarmbristerwriter.webs.com/

COLLAGES early poem late 1990s

COLLAGES

Some of the weirdest shapes I’ve seen are hanging in the sky, a portent of things to come or so say the dark masters.

Are they here to protect us or to destroy us, to fill our lives with evil?

Iridescent colours cast their hue making shadows dance across the land.

In all the towns and cities the culturists plan their revenge to rid their domain of the dark masters, yet they can’t see them or touch them but they know they’re there and exist.

You could call this a battle between good and evil, of light and dark, trying to control the cosmos and to bring the colours to heel. They are fading now these shapes and collages in the sky, so I’ll rest now till the Gods call me again.

link to my new book ebook version

http://www.lulu.com/product/ebook/juniper%e2%80%99s-daughter---fragmented-wholeblack-lense/18861786?productTrackingContext=author_spotlight_3115061_

This is Nick Armbrister's new book, featuring short stories and poetry on a variety of topics, in his Juniper's Daughter series. Juniper's Daughter is a witch with a difference; no flying broom here but a silver flying saucer! She stars in his other novels and her job is to fight evil and save the world. Will she win? Stories like Barren, about a woman banished to a remote island and Fragmented Whole, where a holiday goes badly wrong for three streetwise women, are here. Poetry on many topics, both light (like Damp, a trip outdoors on a rainy day), and dark (like I Become Nothing, a soul searching poem on war) are featured. This book is Nick's first release of 2012 and is in two parts in one volume; poetry and short stories. He is working on a new poetry collection for future release.

im myspace...

my long established site--- www.myspace.com/nickspoetrybooks

my new 1--- www.myspace.com/journeyanew777

ive got poems, stories and book news in my blogs and lots more stuff like links and pics. check it out.

unwritten new book info and bit...

my new book of poems will be a powerful 1. 1 bit will be about world war3, with the full use of modern weapons. 2nd bit will be about juniper's daughter and the 3rd bit is normal topic poems.

1 bit will be about world war3 RED FOX 27936 - BLACK SQUIRREL --- FULL NUCLEAR WEAPONS RELEASE

BLACK SQUIRREL

God damn F-35s¹ caught me napping! Rolling upside down from fifty three thousand feet and diving straight down, I must lose them. Or die. High altitude wasn’t enough. Their AESA² radar defeated my stealth and they found me. I dodged their Mach 4³ AMRAAM⁴ missiles by doing steep S-turns; big yellow flowers of High Explosive reached out for me and missed. I swear I saw red hot chunks of titanium shrapnel zip past! Jamming the hell out their radar, only partly worked. I wondered could they track the slipstream from my warplane? No, how was that possible? But flight was once impossible, two centuries ago.

Wish I was able to climb to ninety thousand feet and avoid the damn F-35s but my bird won’t go that high. Not without a bigger wing and a spacesuit for me. Diving down we go earthwards. I admit my big thrill isn’t battling the enemy jets hunting me, nor the destruction my single nuclear bomb will cause. It’s simply rolling upside down and feeling pure fucking joy, as my pink (yes, you heard right. Is that a problem? Pastel colours match the sky, not matt black) warplane follows my moves and goes inverted, straight down. Away to freedom, I dream. My Radar Warning Receiver⁵ picks up enemy radars. My jammer jams their arses. For awhile.

Speeding down to earth, vertically, I shove the single throttle to maximum. My bird accelerates like the Devil is after her. He may as well be; F-35s are his chariot and guided missiles his reach.  G-force grips me like my ex wife’s sister. A forbidden touch of need and longing. I know I could close my eyes and dive straight down, going supersonic now. Slight buffet as we pass the sound barrier. Straight down from 53k, right into the ground. And for a few seconds, I do close my eyes. Would my single nuclear weapon detonate when I flew into the earth? Would it? Maybe I should do it, commit suicide. No more pain... a dark seductive temptation.

I open my eyes. Numbers appear on my Helmet Mounted Sight⁶, always changing. And on my computer screen and Head Up Display⁷. Seven hundred and seventy knows, soon passing eight hundred, in the thin upper air. Which thickens as I dive lower and slows me, a little. I look out of my gold plated cockpit canopy. A distant sun sparkle, no two, on far off airplanes, shows my enemy is there, visible. Real, not just a blip on my radar screen, if it was on. My set can pick up F-35s, like they can me. Who are we kidding in this high tech chess duel? Only ourselves in the huge blue vista of the sky. Come and get me, you fuckers!

Suddenly, I wish my ex wife was with me. Why do I think of her at this exact moment? Because I’m in dire peril and actually enjoying it? She always was a mad bitch, which was why I made love to her sister. And let her catch us. I have a death wish! Yes, if she was here, in my front cockpit with a disabled ejection seat and tied up, I’d drop my single one megaton nuke and fly us into it. What fun! Laser! Laser! Laser! screams the warning voice. Damn! F-35s have come down and zapped me with their ranging lasers. Can’t jam a laser. I reduce power to idle and corkscrew my warbird. It works! 20mm gunfire sparkles past ahead. A hundred metre miss. Too close!

Stick to my balls and pull till my eyes pop out of my Frankenstein skull. To a Satanic God in Heaven we fly some crazy arc in the sky. With a slow engine, on idle, I feel g-force crush me into my seat. Must be eight or nine. G-suit gives me tolerance, an extra two g. I pull back even more, damn I love my bird! Russia makes good planes. Upwards I go, still with a touch of my earlier speed. Radar online, pick up two F-35s a mile apart and coming downwards to get me. Lock them up, click, select missile, click, launch, click, click and two Bright Stars launch. Speed finally slowing, making me an easy gun target. No need. Two missile hits, two kills!

Reverse my turn, on idle throttle. In effect a stall turn. So damn slow! What a beautiful flying machine. Blue sky turning to a dark green richly coloured earth. Throttle to cruise and tree top height. Behind me, two F-35 jets disintegrate and fall earthwards. So fucking what if I killed two men? They had family. So did I. Till they bombed my hometown and stole my second wife. By flying like Waldo Pepper and being as evil as Stalin, I’ll get them. Revenge keeps me warm, like Ffionna’s embrace. Hell, I miss that girl, my girl. Snap out of it Nik or you die. Emotion in battle will kill you. Check my jet over, my route, my weapon, my fuel. For her. My dead wife.

F-35 pilots fought like demons. They had top jets and hit me good and square. Four shrapnel holes in my wings and a slow fuel leak. Time to jettison my drop tanks; they’re empty. Everything else is fine, except one thing. The four holes in my jet increase my radar cross section and they can see me on their scopes. Got to be even more cunning. Fly dog leg courses, nice and slow. Come in from the east, where they won’t expect me. Be a real cunt! As they were, using a B-4 batwing bomber to kill my wife at St Petersburg. It’s not her fault she was a biological weapon scientist. She was my WIFE! My FUCKING wife. You KILLED her!

Target coming up. Numbers counting down, fuel burn and loss will come before target destination. Only one thing to do; full throttle and zoom climb! Here we go, speed increasing, height climbing, up we go. Now they see us on their radar horizon in my damaged jet. Ah, I see our target, all laid out like on my training flight. I did two of those and was never picked up. I thought I’d get away with this. I was wrong. Bomb armed, engine sputtering now. Nose down to use our speed and height. Here we go. No need to drop the bomb, it detonates on height above ground. Fifteen hundred feet over Manchester. I’m so sorry, really, I am. Zero.

DETONATION...

Notes

1. The Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II is a family of single-seat, single-engine, 5^th generation multi role fighters.

2. Active Electronically Scanned Array (AESA), also known as active phased array radar is a type of phased array radar.

3. Mach 4, supersonic. 760 mph at sea level. Multiply by four for Mach 4. Speed varies with height.

4.  AMRAAM The AIM-120 Advanced Medium-Range Air-to-Air Missile, or AMRAAM (pronounced "am-ram"), is a modern beyond visual range air to air missile (AAM) capable of all-weather day-and-night operations.

5. Radar Warning Receiver (RWR) systems detect the radio emissions of radar systems.

 6. A Helmet Mounted Sight (HMS) is a device used in some modern aircraft, especially combat aircraft. HMSs project information similar to that of head-up displays (HUD) on an aircrew’s visor or reticule, thereby allowing him to obtain situational awareness and/or cue weapons systems to the direction his head is pointing.

7. A head-Up Display (HUD) is any transparent display that presents data without requiring users to look away from their usual viewpoints. The origin of the name stems from a pilot being able to view information with the head positioned "up" and looking forward, instead of angled down looking at lower instruments.

Author’s note. The attacking warplane is an Aeroprogress T-720 Kahlia Akasha turboprop powered multi-role warplane. Top speed is over 600 mph with a 4,500 shp turboprop engine. She is built in Russia and can carry all weapons including nuclear.