Arctic Storm Rising

In Memoriam

Once again, this novel is dedicated to my son, Hunter Dale Brown. My fondest memories of him are when I gave him his first bath in my kitchen sink when he was about a week old, with his mom looking on in terror; his high school graduation party on the shores of Lake Tahoe; his Eagle Scout court of honor; and collaborating on my novel Strike Force when he was just nine years old, tossing ideas back and forth as I drove him home from school.

Like his old man, Hunter was quiet, a little shy, and fiercely loyal to those who got to know him. He was a hard worker, the go-to IT guy, a great teacher, and the best son Diane and I could have ever wished for.

Life is nothing but the soul’s never-ending journey through time and space, and I’m happy that Hunter’s came into our lives. We love and miss you, big guy. Enjoy the rest of your journey.