Chapter 1
Tires squealed as the candy-apple red GTO slid through another curve.
John Barton lazily held the steering wheel, bellowing along with Geddy Lee, who sang about a different sort of car but the exact same sort of drive.
John grinned as he checked for gleaming alloy air cars in his rear-view mirror.
He loved nothing more than driving his ’69 monster on twisty mountain roads, and his Appalachian homeland was simply perfect for it.
Wind flew in the open windows, blowing through his blond curls, trying to sneak past his studded leather jacket. The sweet aroma of hot metal combined with the loamy autumn air, filling his senses. The engine roared as it gobbled its way through another gallon of hi-test.
Every nerve was awake. The car spoke to him through the seat, through his hands
