An inspirational romantic comedy

by Awe Struck Ebooks

Available in electronic book

"This novel,('What You See Is What You Get'), is good enough to read four times. We're looking at a major writing talent here." Jacqueline Lichtenberg, SIMEGEN REVIEWS--Keeper Shelf

In reading this book, I was amazed at the amount of emotion which radiated from each page. With such well-developed characters that complimented each other to the fullest potential, I knew there was no way fate would allow them to be separated. This book has been on my wish list for several months. I'm happy to say it has met and exceeded all my expectations. Not only has it found a place in my heart, but also a place on my keeper's shelf. Suzie Housely -- MyShelf.com

Excerpt

"Is Songstress online yet Ace?" Bulldog yelled from the weight room. "Ask her if she has a sister or a cousin for me, will ya?" 

"Kiss me sweet fly boy," Grizzly Bear crooned, taunting. "Take me in your strong arms. Never let me go!" He leaned around the corner, batting short stubby eyelashes, rolling his eyes. 

Zack tossed a dirty sock at him, grinning. He hit the target right on getting a dirty look for his excellent aim.

"Hey Bulldog! What would Julie say about you having a girlfriend? Put your wife online for Heaven's sake!" Zack yelled. He rolled his eyes heavenward.

"I don't have the money for an online service! Do you think I'm rich or something? On pilot's pay and five kids?" Bulldog's voice grew closer. He stuck his head around the corner, a white towel draped over his shoulders, his dark hair soaked with perspiration.

"Cheapskate!" Zack flashed an annoyed grin.

"Wonderful." he muttered sarcastically, pounding the keys. "Conan just blew out my right wing. I'm a gonner!"

"Give it up. Don't you get tired of playing jet pilot after you do the real thing all day?" Bulldog quirked a silvery eyebrow at him.

"Never! I'll rule the universe yet! Me and Songstress will cast a spell on them if necessary. But I'm saving that for last. Conan and MrSpock won't get the best of the greatest fighter pilot in the galaxy!" Zack promised.

"I'm starting to worry about you, Ace! Maybe you should take some time stateside. Aren't you due for a little leave?" Bulldog perched on the edge of a military issue metal swivel stool with paint chips flaking off. Zack’s little cubical barely fit the two men, neither of who were overly bulky. This was home away from home – which wasn’t saying much - but when Songbird was online, it was Heaven.

Zack whirled in his swivel chair, quirking an eyebrow. He leaned back as far as the chair would let him, crossing his hands behind his head. "Are you serious boss?" He waved a hand toward the computer terminal. "This is all just in fun. A game. What else am I supposed to do on this iceberg?"

"Even the girl? Songstress?" Bulldog wiped perspiration off his brow. His eyes narrowed like a hawk's watching Zack closely. Some of that same perspiration had made rivulets down his fatigue green t-shirt.

Zack leaned back in his chair, oblivious to the fact Conan had just blown his jet to smithereens. He tapped his fingers on the computer desk in no particular rhythm. "No. The girl's something special. Very special."

"Zachary, old man. Don't tell me you've fallen for someone you've never seen? Someone that might not even be a woman?" Bulldog chuckled mirthlessly. "What if you're cybering with a fat old hacker?"

"Songstress is no man, if that's what you mean." Zack stretched to his full height, grabbed Bulldog's towel in a swift calculated move and snapped it against his hairy leg. "I think I can tell how a woman thinks and talks."

"Ouch! I can send you to the brig for attacking a superior officer." Bulldog grinned.

"Right!" Zack chuckled. "And you'll be laughed right out of the Air Force for bringing up such wimpy charges and wasting the tax payer’s money."

"Join me in a little weight training? You're getting soft vegetating in front of that computer screen. Songstress isn't due on yet, is she?" Bulldog inclined his head toward Zack's computer.

Zack glanced over his shoulder at the ticking clock on the cement block wall. Six p.m. "Not for another hour or so," Zack mumbled. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to workout for a few." He flexed his arms. “Don’t want to get flabby like you.“

"Give someone else a chance online for awhile anyway. You're not the only one with needs. Some of the other guys want a turn." Bulldog put a companionable arm around Zack's shoulders, edging him away from the computer. He inclined his head as if beckoning to somebody.

Zack turned to see what or whom Bulldog nodded at, but spied nothing. His screen saver eclipsed his techno wars game. Who cared? He'd already crashed and burned. Tonight wasn't the night he'd save the universe. Maybe tomorrow night.

"Tell them to get their own computer then. Pay for their own service." Zack waved off Bulldog's bantering. He thought he heard a footfall and turned again. He saw nothing. But his senses screamed something not quite right brewed behind his back.

"Spot me on the barbell for a moment, will ya Ace? Add a 30 pounder to that end, would you?" Bulldog zeroed in on his favorite part of their mini gym.

Bulldog lowered himself to the red mat on the floor, rolled onto his back and gripped the long bar. Clenching his teeth, grunting with extreme effort, he pushed upward pumping the heavy iron.

Zack watched his muscles ripple, struggling. Perspiration trickled down his brow. His knuckles turned almost as white as his sideburns.

Grunting, Bulldog lowered the weight.

Zack grabbed the bar from above, taking it from Bulldog's hands, laying it on the matt above Bulldog's head.

"Not too shabby, old man. My turn to show you how it's done. Move over and spot me." Zack flexed his hands and pumped his arms in preparation.

"Move over guys. Ace is gonna show us how it's supposed to be done," Bulldog said with a grin.

Cobra and Grizzly Bear chuckled from their vantage point where they leaned against the wall.

"Add another thirty pounds there, will you?" Zack requested, stacking a thirty pound weight on the end nearest him.

Bulldog furrowed his brow together. "This isn't a contest Ace. You go hurting yourself and Uncle Sam's out a fighter pilot for awhile. It's not going to look very good on your service record."

Zack smiled, sure of himself. "I'm sure I won't get hurt. I do this all the time."

"Since when? I've never seen you." Bulldog arranged himself in the spotter position.

"I'm in here a lot more than you know." Zack patted his firm stomach. "How do you think I keep in prime condition? Not eating all those chocolate chip cookies."

"If everyone had your ego, no one would challenge Uncle Sam." Bulldog laughed.

"Not ego. Confidence." Zack lifted the weights high over his head, holding it as long as he could. "Practice," he panted, lowering the weight.

"Not too shabby, Ace. Not shabby at all. Let's work on the biceps for a few. Join me," Bulldog ordered. "Unless you want to see Erika for the umpteenth time."

Zack chuckled. "I think I'll wait for the new batch of tapes. Besides, I prefer real women over television fantasies."

"Did you hear that guys? Blasphemy! He doesn't want to watch Erika again." Bulldog was an unmerciful tease.

"Be my guest. Ogle Erika. It's time for my rendevous with Songstress," Zack murmured rising from his seat. "Throw me a towel, will ya, Cobra?"

"Sure thing, Ace." Cobra tossed a towel in his face laughing outright, mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes, more green than brown.

"Thanks! I'll remember that!" Zack wiped perspiration from his brow then dropped the towel over his shoulder.

"Just give our love to Songstress. See if she has a sister or a cousin for us, will ya? A guy doesn't forget his buddies, remember?" Cobra asked.

"I couldn't forget you guys if I tried!" Zack tweaked them with the end of his towel. He stopped by on the way to the fridge and grabbed a diet Spritzy Soda. Popping the ring top, it fizzed, a little of the cola bubbling over the rim.

Tipping it to his parched lips, he downed a swig. "Ahhh! That hit the spot." He wiped the cold can to his heated cheeks and forehead, closing his eyes at the delicious coolness.

Sauntering to his computer, his towel draped around his shoulders, he stopped abruptly, can to his lips.

Black Jack sat in his chair typing on his computer.

Zack inched forward, silent as an Indian brave, reading over his shoulder. Dread twisted his stomach. They wouldn't, would they?

Of course they would, the lying sneaks! He'd been expecting this sooner or later. It was inevitable knowing this bunch of jokers.

"I love you so much Songstress. I want to make love to you all day long, sweep you off your feet, whisk you away and marry you!" Black Jack pounded on the keyboard, so intense on his fun that he didn't hear Zack creep up on him.

"Is this a proposal, fly boy?" Songstress typed back.

Zack gulped, groaning inwardly. This was a nightmare. They had him married off already.

"You can bank on it, sweetheart. I'll fly in on my jet fighter plane and whisk you off to Las Vegas for a quickie wedding. We'll get an Elvis impersonator to marry us..."

Zack's first instinct was to yell in his ear, make him jump to the ceiling. But he went with his second impulse.

He put his hands around Black Jack's neck and squeezed ever so gently. Whispering menacingly in his ear, he promised, "You ever mess with my woman or my relationship again, you'll wake up dead."

Black Jack jumped, shrieking, "I'm sorry Ace. The guys put me up to it."

Lascivious male laughter echoed behind him. He whirled around on the ball of his foot, his towel flying. He raked unsteady fingers through his still slightly damp hair. "I oughtta strangle each and every one of you! Get your own girls and leave me and mine alone!"

"Fat chance, sweet fly boy! It's more fun to tease you than watch Erika or lift weights."

"Dance with me under the moonlight, sweet fly boy! Climb my cyber balcony!" Cobra spoke in falsetto, batting his eyelashes, grinning from ear to ear. He turned to Grizzly Bear crooning, "Dance with me?"

Grizzly Bear put his hairy arms around Cobra, leaned his head against his shoulder and batted his stubby eyelashes at Cobra. They waltzed in their stockinged feet.

"Very funny, guys!" Zack chuckled. “You’re just so hilarious. Or are you that hard up?“

"Jealous, Ace?" Grizzly Bear turned to him, holding out his hand. "I'll save the next dance for you!" He threw an exagerrated smooch to him which Zack ducked.

Bulldog sauntered to a position next to Zack. "What's goin' on in here, men?" Bulldog lifted an enquiring eyebrow. "Why wasn't I invited to the dance?"

"I'll save the next dance for you, Colonel." Grizzly Bear turned to Zack, he widened his eyes like a puppy dog. "Maybe I can squeeze you in for the next dance, Ace."

"What am I? Chopped Liver?" Cobra lifted his eyebrows lasciviously. He twirled a makebelieve handlebar mustache like a Vaudevillan villain.

"You're just jealous!" Zack grumbled.

Black Jack remained quiet, still looking peeked from his near death experience. He must have realized from his deathly quiet tone of voice that no one messed with Zack Kane and got away with it. No one.

"Out of my seat, Black Jack! Let me repair the damage before her daddy escorts me down the aisle with a shotgun!" Zack mumbled. Impatient, he grabbed the back of his chair, tilted it forward, dumping Black Jack on the cold cement floor.

"Take it easy lover boy! I was moving!" Black Jack grumbled, rubbing his tush where he'd landed heavily.

"Get moving and don't look back. Y'all give me some privacy tonight. This is not a group activity or the Senior Prom!" Zack growled.

"Ol‘ Ace is being anti social again.“ Grizzly Bear made a grab for Serena's picture displayed prominently on Zack's locker. "We'll just have to drool over the pin up."

"Touch it and die!" Zack growled ominously, slamming the locker closed. No one messed with his lady.

Grizzly Bear pulled his hand back just in time before he had a stump. "He's getting touchy. He must really like this chick."

"Can I be best man at your wedding sweet flyboy?" Cobra drawled and bent on one knee as if proposing and put his head on Zack's knee. Big puppy dog eyes implored Zack. "Puh-lease!"

Zack shoved him gently off his knee. "I've already been married. Why would I want to try it again? It's not all it's cracked up to be." A little voice in the back of his mind argued with him. Marriage to someone like Serena could be Heaven, given half a chance. She was nothing like Carolyn. She’d never lie to him.

He shook himself. After Carolyn ultimate betrayal, he‘d sworn off marriage. Not women, not their sweet charms, but marriage, fidelity, trust. Or at least he thought he had till he met the Songstress. Now he wasn’t so sure.

"Get outta here, men! Leave the lovesick puppy alone to cyber in peace!" Bulldog defended him, if you could call that a defense. Zack scowled.

The men shuffled away, protesting, rolling their eyes. Their snickers filled the otherwise quiet dorm.

Zack turned back to the computer.

"Zack?" Serena typed.

"Zack are you there?" Songstress asked.

"Did I say something wrong???????? Zack, did you get booted???????" Serena asked again.

Zack bent over his keyboard, striking keys as fast as he could with two fingers. "You didn't do anything wrong sweet Serena. But that wasn't me you were talking to."

"No? Who was that? <>," Serena admitted.

He could imagine a lovely blush creep into her alabaster cheeks making her cornflower yellow hair look almost white. How charming she must look.

" That was Black Jack. The other guys kept me preoccupied while he was talking to you." Zack leaned back in his chair, tipping the Spritzy Soda to his lips. He smacked his lips, wishing he had more of those delicious chocolate chip cookies of hers to go with his drink.

"How can I be sure you're you? ROFLOL," Serena asked.

"Look in your crystal ball, Songstress," Zack replied, laughing.

"I’m clean out of crystal balls." After she answered there was a long silence from her end.

"Serena?" he typed. "Are you there?" He watched the screen intently for her answer, a lump in his throat.

"Sorry, had to let dogs outside right away before my carpet turned yellow. LOL. Are you really a flyboy? A jet fighter pilot????" Serena asked.

Zack breathed a sigh of relief. "Yesiree! I'm really a jet fighter pilot, keeping your friendly skies friendly. An Officer and a Gentleman.“ He felt as if he'd just spewed an ad for American Airlines or whichever of the giants promised Fly Our Friendly Skies. Right! They didn't have real live Migs on their tails during a routine mission. They could afford to be sugar coated friendly. One of these days when his stint for Uncle Sam came to an end, he'd get himself a cushy pilot's job for one of the biggies and rake in the big bucks and not have to worry about feeling like the Red Barron with Snoopy on his tail.

"One of our boys in blue!" Serena exclaimed.

"You got it. Look at my picture. What you see is what you get!" Zack answered, opening his locker to glance at Serena's beautiful face. How I long to wrap myself in that glorious long blond hair of yours, gaze deeply into your china blue eyes. How did he get so lucky on the roll of the dice? Why did a girl that looked like Christie Brinkley--all blonde, tanned and long-legged--spend her nights playing Multi Techno Battle Wars and cybering online with him?

"Are you looking at me, Ser-e-na? <>." He decided to stop wondering why she wasted her time on him and thank his lucky stars she'd stumbled into his gin joint. One day, when he got leave or as soon as he was sent state-side, he'd find his beautiful blonde honey and give her her just rewards.

"I'm looking, handsome flyboy! Believe me, I'm looking. <>. Hold me close darling Zack? Dance with me under the moonlight tonight? Turn on Hotel California," Serena rasped. He imagined a sweet, husky voice full of longing and desire and his insides melted.

Zack reached for his CDs, shuffled through them and took out his Eagles greatest hits volume two collection. He slipped it into his CD player and turned on Hotel California. "It's on Songstress. Come into my arms. Lean your head on my shoulder. Hold me tight." Zack put his fingers to his lips, deposited a kiss on them, then placed it to the lips on Serena's picture.

Marriage might be heaven to an angel like his Songstress. She was beautiful, bright, and funny. What more could a guy ask?

He tried to shake the image, but he couldn't. Why had Bulldog and Black Jack put that dangerous idea in his mind? Sabotaging friends didn't seem very friendly in his book. Persuading a guy to think marriage seemed like the worst kind of sabotage.

Looking around him at the stark, cement walled barracks in the middle of nowhere, Zack grimaced. What was so great about this set up that marriage looked so dangerous?

Nothing!  This place reeked loneliness, boredom, stagnation.

Marriage to his soulmate would be Heaven. He knew the idea would plague him no matter how hard he tried to erase it from his mind and his heart...

"Lift your sweet lips to mine, Ser-e-na. Kiss me! Never let me go!" Zack meant every word with all his heart. He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

Laughter taunted him from behind. His eyelids opened instantly, he swiveled around in his chair.

The laughter silenced immediately. Thick tension hung in the air. Empty space greeted him. He looked around his small cubby perplexed. Then he spied it.

A mirror.

One little mirror angled toward a larger mirror where the guys read his every word, watched his every move, read Serena's every heartfelt word unabashedly.

"This is war!" he lifted his voice to the air. "You'll be sorry you were ever born when I finish with you miserable..."

"Promises, promises." Cobra chuckled. "We're really scared," he drawled in his thick Texas accent.

They all knew he was a bunch of hot air and macho innuendo. He leaned back in his chair steaming. Now he couldn't even chat to his girl in private.

He needed release, real release. Shooting down migs just didn't satisfy him completely anymore. He needed a soft, beautiful woman in his arms, pliant to his every whim and fantasy. A beautiful woman like his Songstress.

Taking off his shoe, he flung it at the mirror. Glass cracked ominously.

Seven years bad luck. Good thing he wasn't superstitious!

"Bullseye!" he muttered.

"Do you believe he just did that?" Voices echoed in unison.

"The guy's a gonner," Black Jack mumbled. "He's lovesick alright." Cobra chuckled.

"Leave the Captain alone, men." Bulldog stomped into Zack’s cubicle, clapping him resoundingly on the shoulders. "Enough's enough. Hit the showers. Twenty minutes to lights out."

Zack turned staring into Serena's smiling blue eyes, wishing for a normal life where he didn’t have someone telling him when to shower, when to hit the sack. "I'm a gonner alright," he mumbled unhappily. "What am I to do about it?"

The picture smiled at him blandly, no answers forthcoming.

"Don't want to leave you my Ser-e-na, but Bulldog's flicking the lights. Shower time!" Zack typed against his will. He felt like a prisoner in a POW camp.

"Sweet dreams flyboy! Dream of me."

"Wish you were with me!" The image of her beautiful face and hair floated before his eyes.

Bulldog flicked the lights again. "Fifteen minutes left! Tell your girlfriend goodnight and get your butt in the showers, loverboy! If you don’t get in there, we’re not letting you stink up the joint. You can go find an igloo to bed down in."

"I gotta go sweet Serena! BULLDOG's barking. Meet me tomorrow night with a yellow rose in your teeth, your long blond hair flowing down the balcony?" Zack hoped, needed for her to meet him. "Dream of me, Ser-e-na. Till tomorrow. {S Goodbye}," Zack said. His computer gargled, all tinny and scratchy.

"{S Goodbye}," Serena's farewell sounded identical, like a robot.

Songstress blocked her Instant Messaging. She must be designing more web pages or making more wav files.

His fingers ached to touch her in the flesh, to know her sweet, sweet charms.

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