The working title is Pinue, but there's another title hidden within the story and I'm slowly unearthing it.
The first draft has been written, and I'm working on the rewrite and edits before it's sent to my beta readers. After they're done with it I'll go through the manuscript again with the beta readers comments in mind before the story is sent to my editor. If you'd like to volunteer as a beta reader drop me a line at rschiver@gmail.com and we'll talk. I've got several more works in the pipeline that I intend to release this year.
For this release I enlisted the aid of an artist to create the cover image and recently received an update she was gracious enough to let me share. Her work is amazing. Here's the link to her Facebook page so you can check out her work. Dee Rezzed.
This is the concept I sent her.
It's rather obvious I'm no artist.
This was the first drawing she sent me.
Not much to see at this stage.
Another update followed and it was
obvious she understood what I wanted.
The latest update.
You can see the image coming together.
She tells me there's still a good bit of work to
be done, but it's really looking good.
Current Synopsis
The year is 1945 and the noose is tightening on a dwindling Japanese empire. During a bombing run over Tokyo, Japanese gunners score a solid hit on The Painted Lady, an American B-29 super fortress. Forced to crash land in the pacific ocean the crew makes its way to what they hope is a deserted island that turns out to be occupied by a forgotten Japanese garrison, and an alien creature that has developed a taste for human flesh.
Captain Bob Davidson tapped the glass of the temperature gauge for engine three, not surprisingly the needle remained buried in the red. He didn’t need the gauge to know the engine was overheating, he could see the dull red glow of the cylinder heads beneath the shredded cowling. Streamers of black smoke leaked from jagged holes, whisked away by the incessant wind of their flight.
The Japanese gunners had scored a lucky hit, knocking out engines two and four, and damaging engine three, as they passed over the Japanese mainland releasing their load of incendiary bombs over the predominantly wooden structures of Tokyo. It was an aspect of the war many of the bomber crews felt uncomfortable with, the killing of civilians, but these same civilians provided manpower to the manufacturing plants that supplied the Japanese military.
A necessary evil was how the upper brass referred to it. Like the bombing raids of their brethren with the Eighth air force over Germany. The war had escalated to the point that civilians were now viable targets.
Engines one and three had been struggling for the past few hours to keep the ninety thousand pound aircraft aloft. A struggle they were slowly loosing as the needle of the altimeter dial moved in a counter clockwise direction, noting the dwindling distance between the bottom of the aircraft and the vastness of the south pacific ocean below that lay sparkling in the noon day sun like a bed of jewels spread out to welcome them.
Engine three would soon seize, leaving them with a single engine that would be unable to keep the B-29 aloft. Even with the throttles set at full, and the yoke pulled all the way back into his gut, it was too much weight for the amount of lift they provided. In the end gravity would overcome the physics of flight, and they would find themselves at the mercy of an unforgiving host. The endless pacific ocean where many an airman had disappeared, never to be found again. Unless they happened upon one of the uninhabited islands that dotted the ocean.
“I’m about to lose three,” he shouted into the mike connecting him with the rest of the crew, “have you plotted our location?”
“Not yet,” came the reply.
They had to transmit their position if they hoped to be picked up. Bob knew from the way the aircraft had been drifting to the left after they departed Japanese controlled airspace, that with only two engines, they were unable to maintain a proper heading. The prevailing winds were sending them on a more easterly course, towards a vast expanse of empty ocean known as the B29 graveyard. Where battle damaged bombers eventually plunged to the earth after their crews abandoned them over the designated recovery area that was now more than a hundred miles behind them.
The Japanese gunners had scored a lucky hit, knocking out engines two and four, and damaging engine three, as they passed over the Japanese mainland releasing their load of incendiary bombs over the predominantly wooden structures of Tokyo. It was an aspect of the war many of the bomber crews felt uncomfortable with, the killing of civilians, but these same civilians provided manpower to the manufacturing plants that supplied the Japanese military.
A necessary evil was how the upper brass referred to it. Like the bombing raids of their brethren with the Eighth air force over Germany. The war had escalated to the point that civilians were now viable targets.
Engines one and three had been struggling for the past few hours to keep the ninety thousand pound aircraft aloft. A struggle they were slowly loosing as the needle of the altimeter dial moved in a counter clockwise direction, noting the dwindling distance between the bottom of the aircraft and the vastness of the south pacific ocean below that lay sparkling in the noon day sun like a bed of jewels spread out to welcome them.
Engine three would soon seize, leaving them with a single engine that would be unable to keep the B-29 aloft. Even with the throttles set at full, and the yoke pulled all the way back into his gut, it was too much weight for the amount of lift they provided. In the end gravity would overcome the physics of flight, and they would find themselves at the mercy of an unforgiving host. The endless pacific ocean where many an airman had disappeared, never to be found again. Unless they happened upon one of the uninhabited islands that dotted the ocean.
“I’m about to lose three,” he shouted into the mike connecting him with the rest of the crew, “have you plotted our location?”
“Not yet,” came the reply.
They had to transmit their position if they hoped to be picked up. Bob knew from the way the aircraft had been drifting to the left after they departed Japanese controlled airspace, that with only two engines, they were unable to maintain a proper heading. The prevailing winds were sending them on a more easterly course, towards a vast expanse of empty ocean known as the B29 graveyard. Where battle damaged bombers eventually plunged to the earth after their crews abandoned them over the designated recovery area that was now more than a hundred miles behind them.
So what do you think?
