I’m a former soldier (admittedly only 12 years of uniformed service and 4.5 years of “civilian” service as a contractor – as if any of us are ever really “civilians” again). In any case, I’ve gone through the school of hard knocks; I’ve had several failed relationships and I’ll wholly accept the blame, rightly or wrongly. After years of professional and self-abuse (including being aggressively worked over by a documented narcissist in one of my relationships) I find myself single again, facing the prospect of a significantly shortened life expectancy, and yet still trying to decide what I should do when I grow up. I’ve just undergone the amputation of my right leg below the knee, and yet I’m still pushing myself forward to my next challenge. The hospital therapists have already threatened a few times to strap me down before I run off without them (good luck). I’ve only recently become interested in writing and this, as well as several other books about to be released, have all been written by my hospital bed when not flirting with the nurses.