I grew up in Southeast Missouri. It was a simple time of three TV channels, flirting with girls, and avoiding the cops while trying to get someone to buy you a bottle of Boones Farm.

Tired of flipping burgers for cash, I headed to the Big City (St. Louis) and joined the US Coast Guard. Lovingly known as: Uncle Sam's Confused Group, puddle pirates, Coasties, and the runner-up Navy.

After loafing there for a little over 30 years as a CWO ship's engineer, my dear old Uncle Sam sent me packing.

I decided I had been depriving the reading public of my wit and talent long enough and so my first book, Corvus Ascending, was written.

Also, my wife told me to find something to do and stop bothering her.

Corvus Ascending by Dale Sale

Wisecracking star-sailor Gus Johansson's beach bum retirement suddenly goes from boring to blazing when he pulls a 1400-year-old robot and a sentient spaceship from the sea. Soon, Gus and his crew of misfits are in the fight of their lives against an old enemy. The vengeful Captain Harrison "Hazy" Grey is convinced he can finally get his Admiral's flag by capturing that ship; and he doesn't care who he has to kill to do it.



  • "the characters are diverse, distinctive and unconventional but such are the personalities of every entertaining story of science fiction. CORVUS ASCENDING begins slowly but accelerates at 'warp speed'."

    – TheReadingCafe.com


“This day is totally fucked!” Chief Warrant Bosun Guster Johansson swore to himself as he put his Anvil class assault dropship into a steep dive. The controls were glitchy, and they bucked wildly when he hit the towering thunderhead over the extraction zone. “Warning, external environmental conditions are exceeding operational parameters. Initiating pilot restrictions,” a calm feminine voice sounded in his ear. Gus shouted, “Annie, override all operational restrictions. Command code Gusty Joe.” “Operational restrictions removed. Command code override logged.” A panicked voice sounded over the comms, “Joe, you coming? We are getting our ass handed to us down here! Too much lightening to move, pinned down. The whole landing is FUBAR.” Gus said, “Hang on, Marine! I’m dropping in hot. I’ll have you back to base in time for evening milk and cookies.” The storm had appeared out of nowhere just after the patrol dropped. The ship they landed in was out of commission from a direct lightning strike. “I want you moving when I hit the LZ. No time for souvenirs.” “Rodger that, just open the door and keep the engines running,” the comms rang out. Sweat poured off Gus’s forehead as he fought for control. His haptic feedback gloves were slipping despite a death grip on the controls. The forward view was fogging, and rain beat a furious tattoo against the glass. A silver Mjolnir medallion swung on a chain from a switch. Time slowed, and the medallion blurred. A nagging feeling grew between his shoulder blades. The old Bosun could barely see the landing zone and was relying on the heads-up-helmet overlay to guide him in. Gus shook his head and flared the ship at the last minute above the patrol’s position, then punched the landing ramp release. Lightning was popping all around and the thunder was deafening through his helmet. The squad leaped from their positions and ran hard. When the last of them were exposed a tremendous blue bolt fell from the sky and danced from one Marine to the next. Puppet jerking as they screamed. Then it flared at Gus…