Jed shares this with us about his writing:
I have written several short stories and online articles, as well as four novels. I also had a poem and short story published by a
literary magazine. I definitely prefer prose to express myself, to tell stories. Three of my novels make up the War for Profit Trilogy,
of which First Enlistment is the beginning. I’ve studied literature and writing and have earned a degree in English with a minor in Professional Writing from Cameron University, giving me the tools needed to tell a story in a way readers can enjoy.
makes my stories hard to put down; I certainly hope so.
The main reason I chose to start writing was because I ran out of
things I wanted to read. The military science fiction genre is slim,
narrow, and limited. An average reader could chew through it in a
couple of years and be left with nothing more to enjoy. I complained
about it and my friends who said, “What are you doing about it besides
So I learned to write and then wrote some stories and I hope, wrote them well.
Please, enjoy my stories.
Sevin’s decision became clear. The lead tank destroyer
blinked off the screen. Then tank zero one blinked off the screen. The
last tank destroyer turned east and ran at top speed along the river
bank. Galen checked his auxiliary status screen. Sevin had been in the
tank alone, driving it with the commander’s override controls. His
status was black. Dead.
“Jones, can we go any faster?”
“This is it, Chief. We got a problem with the left final drive and the
track tension is a little sloppy on that side. The computer won’t let
us roll any faster.”
Galen studied the situation map. He checked the estimated speed of the
enemy vehicle. It would catch up to them before they reached the
perimeter of the main body. But three zero was the only operational
tank left on the situation map. The task of stopping the tank
destroyer was Galen’s.
“Stop, driver. Pivot a half-left and pull a half a klick up into the draw.”
Jones did as instructed.
“Okay, whoop it around and back up into the trees. Get us in real good.”
The Hornet was parked facing the river, dense crab apple trees and
higher ground on three sides. Galen had a nice view down to the river,
and was high enough to see the river bank where it met the water. He’d
have a clear shot at the MS-100’s left flank.
“Tad, charge seven.”
The MS-100 came at full speed. It was tilted to the right, its right
track splashing in the river’s water. Galen waited, waited until he
was sure of a good hit. He fired the laser cannon, scoring a hit at
the base of the hull between the road wheels. A hot glob of metal
splayed the inside of the vehicle. The laser bolt was strong enough to
continue through the right side of the hull and explode river water
into a geyser of steam. The MS-100 veered right and drove into the
river, a dead driver at its controls. It continued to shove itself
into the river until its piston engine became drowned with river
water. Its symbol disappeared from the situation map.
The Hornet’s main power was off for fifteen seconds, and then came
back on line. Galen spoke into his hand mike, “Jones, we can join the
main body now. But take it easy, there’s no hurry.”
Tad gripped Galen’s shoulder, “Nice shot.”
“I do my best. Did you see Sevin’s work?”
“Yeah. He did well. Too bad he didn’t make it.”
“He knew he wouldn’t make it. But he had to do it. He knew we’d be dog
meat if he didn’t do it.”
“I think so.” Tad looked up.
“He knew he wouldn’t make it,” said Galen, in a voice too low for
anyone else to hear. “He knew.”