Stranded in 1929, a time traveler struggles to convince a sleepy country that America must prepare to defend itself against its friends, the Japanese, in 1941. Eighty years in the past, Ben Ryan must start again. He learns to live and love, and he plans for a future nobody wants to hear about. Then he meets Howard Hughes, who believes him and forms a consortium comprised of fellow industrialists. They prepare in every way they can without the backing of the US government. The Japanese learn of their efforts, and move up their plans to attack Pearl Harbor in December 1939, two years earlier than the original history. The consortium learns this, but they're still short of planes, supplies, and pilots. Is their hard work all for nothing? The race is on.
About the Author: J.M. Surra grew up near Chatham, NY, amidst a unique assortment of area writers, musicians, and regular folks. He lived just a stone's-throw from the Woodstock area in one direction, and West Stockbridge in the other. The location attracted a concentration of colorful and even bizarre characters, ranging from a bit unusual to the unapologetically flamboyant. The local treasure-trove of personalities was, for lack of a better word, hippie-based. Though the flow of thought was encouraged around these types, J.M. vividly remembers his young friends refusing to play with him once, claiming he "always told such big stories." He came by that honestly. His steel-worker grandfather told him of Scotland and taught him to speak with a proper Scottish brogue (which, despite what his friends think, he never mastered). His Dad told him of how he flew a disabled bomber back to base, and flew it all the way onto the ground, and how badly he was hurt in the crash (his injuries from that plane crash are revisited onto a character in Angels and their Hourglasses). The local VietNam vets told far different, dark and disturbing war stories, and other locals of diverse origins had their own tales to tell. J.M. was hooked, and wrote stories throughout High School. He loves to play the guitar, and for a long time he wanted to write songs. He says, "I couldn't write a line short enough to fit into a song. It was maddening. It took some time to recognize my storytelling gene. My mind overflows with epic-length stories. There always seems to be another one waiting to come out." In the Mid-80s, J.M. moved to Maine, and again surrounded himself with a colorful cast of characters. He discovered a state filled with a more earthy breed of honest, hard-working people with a seemingly endless supply of dry yet humorous quips, usually spoken in the native downeast accent, "Ya cahn't get theyah from heeyah.." or "Ayuh", (Mainer for "Yeah" or "Yep"). He fell in love with Maine and its people, and lived there happily for 25 years. Time flies when you're having fun. Due to the devastated Maine economy, J.M. has become a Texas transplant, but he still has a home in Maine. Whenever he can steal some time he zips back home to write, hike the Appalachian Trail, take in the vistas, and visit dear friends.