Over 4,000 of America's bravest and best, gave their lives in the Iraq war, between 2003 - 2009. Thousands more, lost limbs and came home half the person they were, when they left. Still thousands more, suffer from PTSD, to this day. Johnny Condon, a photojournalist was embedded in 59th Marine Corps. An infantry battalion, which fought out of Northern Iraq. Their mission was to search and destroy Al Qaeda and make and establish relationships, with the good Muslims of that country. Johnny was good at his job. Too good. It became such a part of him and his life, that he did the equivalent of three tours. He couldn't help himself. The jarheads became a part of his life and became as family. Although a civilian, working for the Times, he was treated by them as another jarhead and as a veteran - because he'd served three tours. The last tour, according to Johnny was the toughest. One of his marine buddies "bought it", (Marine lingo for catching a bullet), right before his eyes. The Marines in the squad yelled at Johnny to put down his Nikon; and pick up the fallen Marine's assault weapon - and lay down a fusillade of covering fire, so they could overcome the enemy. He did! The results of that instant action would play in his mind for the rest of his life, because he "killed a human being." The story opens with Johnny returning home to New York, on a mission. Michael York, the fallen Marine, asked Johnny the week before he was killed - to hand deliver a letter to his wife in Kansas, if anything happened to him. Johnny agreed to do so. Suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - because of the war, all he could do his first day back was get drunk. The emotional pain of what he experienced the previous three years, threatened his job and his life. So how did he handle it? He had to medicate the pain away. And the only things that seemed to work for him, was Black Jack Daniels, bourbon whiskey and sex. Lots of both. Come inside and see what it's really like to suffer from PTSD.
About the Author: About the author M.L. Harris became interested in writing at an early age, after reading the works of Mark Twain; and 'The Odyssey' by Homer. But he put that dream on the back shelf, in order to pursue sports in high school and college. He received a football scholarship to a small college in Mexico. One day at practice, Harris took his helmet off and started walking to the locker room. The coach yelled: "hey Harris, get back here. Practice isn't over until I say it's over." He kept walking. The coach followed him inside, to see Harris taking off his practice uniform. He said, "son what in the hell do you think you're doing. Get back out there on the practice field." Harris looked at the coach and shook his head. "No coach! I'm done! I've been playing organized football since the fourth grade. I made a deal with myself, that when it was no longer fun, I'd quit. So today I quit!" The coach looked at him with a puzzled look. "But you have a scholarship, are you going to walk away from that?" Harris nodded and said, "I guess so coach." His football career ended that day. The same year, at the same college, he wrote his first book, a novella, which no longer exists. The manuscript was burned by him, because his fiancée thought the main character, who had sex with a blond - was him. "Never mind!" He said, as he shrugged his shoulders. "I'll write another one." He kept his promise. He's written and published thirteen novels and two fiction. When asked what writing meant to him he said, "writing to me is like being married and having a mistress. One has to get a job to pay the bills. Because writing doesn't pay the bills until you build a sizeable readership. That job represents the marriage. Writing is the mistress. It's more exciting to be with the mistress." Harris lives near Tampa, Florida and can be reached at: mlharris.author@gmail.com Follow him on Twitter & Facebook at @mlharrisauthor