Final Approach
John J. Nance
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JOHN J. NANCE
A wild ride in the night sky. Capt. Sully Sullenberger, author of #1 New York Times bestseller Sully
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Praise for the Writing of John J. Nance
King of the modern-day aviation thriller. Publishers Weekly
Nance is a wonderful storyteller. Chicago Tribune
Final Approach
A taut high-tech mystery that could have been written only by an airline industry insider. New York Timesbestselling author Stephen Coonts
Scorpion Strike
Gripping. Seattle Post-Intelligencer
Phoenix Rising
Harrowing Nance delivers suspense and smooth writing. A classy job. The New York Times Book Review
Pandoras Clock
A ticking time bomb of suspense. Chicago Tribune
A combination of The Hot Zone and Speed. USA Today
Medusas Child
So compelling its tough to look away. People
The Last Hostage
A thrilling ride [Will] keep even the most experienced thriller addicts strapped into their seats for the whole flight. People
Blackout
A high tension, white knuckle thriller Joltingly scary. New York Post
Turbulence
Mesmerizing in-flight details [and] a compelling cast of realistic characters once again prove John J. Nance the king of the modern-day aviation thriller. Publishers Weekly
Skyhook
Readers are in for death-defying plane rides, lively dialogue, and realistic characters who survive crises with courage and humor. Associated Press
On Shaky Ground: Americas Earthquake Alert
Gripping! Breathlessly unrolls a succession of disasters. If you want a literary equivalent of the quake experience, On Shaky Ground is the book for you. San Francisco Examiner & Chronicle
To My Mother, Margrette Nance Lynch,
Who laid the foundation,
and
To my Aunt, Martha Nance Kanowsky,
My first editor.
Friday, October 12
A lightning flash blinded Dr. Mark Weiss momentarily through the rain-smeared windshield, illuminating his wife Kimberly in the passenger seat of the familys station wagon as she turned in his direction. A rumble of thunder followed in rapid succession.
Honey, we dont have a choice. Dad may not Kim stopped, choking on the recognition that her fathers heart attack several hours before on a Dallas golf course had left him at deaths door.
I know, but I still wish we could wait. This is a lousy night to be traveling anywhere. Mark found her hand and squeezed it gently.
For nearly an hour the nighttime thunderstorm had whipped the Missouri countryside, swelling the streams and threatening to block their path to Kansas Citys International Airport, a delay they couldnt afford: the last flight to Dallas was already preparing for departure.
Mark felt the gusting winds competing with him for control as he maneuvered along the crown of the rain-slicked rural road, his concentration divided by the nagging worry over the last-minute reservations hed made on Flight 170 for Kim and the boys. He hated the thought of them flying alone. They always seemed so vulnerable.
Kim squeezed his hand in return, a flicker of a smile crossing her face. She knew he had to stay for his Saturday meeting.
Mark was very good at helping others overcome all sorts of fears and phobias in his practice as a clinical psychologist, yet Kim knew how quickly he turned into a basket case of anxiety when his family flew anywhere without him. Working with airline people had made it worse. For two years he had treated the traumatized employees of a major East Coast airline sliding toward bankruptcy. Kim knew the plight of those people was on his mind. Tomorrows meeting was an attempt to renew the foundation grant which had kept the program going.
I should be able to join you in Dallas tomorrow by six, he said simply.
Kim studied her husband of seven years as she reached into the backseat to collar six-year-old Aaron, who had hit the breaking point listening to the marathon wailing of his four-year-old brother.
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