Challenge (Paperback)

Bonny and Lauren face the greatest challenge of their lives as they try to rescue their man Daniel from an impossible predicament. His helicopter has crashed behind enemy lines, he is injured and cannot move. If the Argentine secret police get hold of him he will be tortured and may die. If they do nothing, he will surely die. They must act alone. They set out on an impulsive and dangerous mission to bring back the man whom they both love. Daniel is husband to Bonny and unknown to him, father to the baby she carries. Lauren too carries a secret that might threaten her relationship with Bonny, but she dare not reveal it; not until Daniel is safely home. All three face formidable challenges.

What sort of writer am I? Take DH Lawrence's sensuality and sensitivity, mix in a big dollop of John Steinbeck's earthy humor and truth, spice with a dash of Joyce's inventiveness and bawdyness. Sprinkle in a spot of Becket's radical originality. Cook in a slow simmering cauldron over an Irish peat fire given extra heat by the Scots/Irish hard burning coal and dish up in a new bowl of non-conformist Belfast manufacture. That's me. Modest too. I know these are big names to live up to but I try. Bio - how boring? Once upon a time, long a go, in a strangely beautiful green land, there was an industrial city. Forged from ships and linen, it sat uncomfortably in an otherwise rural land. It came to dominate and it grew a breed of men hard in their certainties and fears. No surrender types full of non-conformist rebellion. Militaristic people; troublesome to their neighbours and English masters. Into that cultural cauldron I was born unplanned and unwanted like so many post war children. Duty and doing the right thing kept the parents who made us, miserabley together. I quickly found escape in literature, comics and the part work: Knowledge. Library's and the countryside became my church and my priests were Steinbeck, Conrad, Hemingway and Joyce. School was torture for the hyper intelligent boy and Dyslexia was: "You're thick and stupid boy." The troubles erupted and tribal sectarian violence ripped and tore. I stayed untill I could bear it no longer, then left to see the world and wander. I never went back to my dark home city but came south to Cork where I felt easy and only a little foreign. My soul mate found, I searched for release from the agonies of all the wrong jobs and found it in novels. Twelve so far and more bubbling in me waiting.