When the Secret Service Agents threw me hard on my back in the middle of the highway I thought they were going to shoot me. They had not yet drawn their weapons, but I saw them reaching for their shoulder holsters inside their suit coats.

I probably should not have rushed the heavily armored limousine transporting President Gerald Ford and Egyptian President Anwar Sadat, as they pulled into the Deerwood Country Club in Jacksonville, Florida, for a peace summit in November of 1975. But I had an important letter that I needed delivered to President Ford, requesting that he release thousands of Top Secret documents to me.

He had ignored my previous letters to the White House, so when I heard of his visit to my hometown, I thought it would be a good idea to rush his limousine, shove my hand through the window, and personally fork over my letter to the President of the United States.

Well, boys and girls, just so you know, do not try this at home. The Secret Service materialized from thin air and slammed me to the pavement on Beach Boulevard. Ouch.

About five thousand firm hands pawed over my entire body, searching for an arsenal of deadly-force weapons that I was intending to unleash on the President of the United States. However, when they discovered I was unarmed, they simply took the manila envelope from my hands and opened it.

"HEY!' I yelled boldly for a man in my humbled position. "THOSE ARE TOP SECRET DOCUMENTS FOR THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!" The agents had not expected THAT response. They looked puzzled.

The papers were indeed top secret, sort of. At least that is what they said on the upper left-side of the faded old copies. The twenty-five documents had actually been made available to the public in 1945, and a little line had been scratched through the words TOP SECRET. The White House had sent them to me, while thanking me for loving the President.

The agent who held my "secret papers" was talking into a headset and microphone. "They look real," he said to someone in charge. They gently lifted me off my back from the pavement and said, "Don't ever do that again. It is a good way to get shot."

I tried to grab my documents from him, as I said, "I'll go give these to the President." But a firm hand shoved me in the chest and pushed me back. And I thought we had just become best friends.

"No. I will give them to the President."

In January, 1976, as Gerald Ford left the White House for the last time, a freight truck pulled up to my apartment door and dropped off thousands of declassified documents. They were the real deal about the sinking of the U.S.S. Indianapolis, on July 28, 1945. The very same ship talked about in the blockbuster movie, "JAWS."

The Indianapolis had been the Flagship for the entire Allied Fleet whenever she was at sea, and its sinking had been so controversial that the Court of Inquiry had been classified secret and never revealed to the public, since it involved derelict of duty by several top admirals, and even the Secretary of the Navy. The encyclopedia "History of the United States Navy" said, "It will never be made available to the public."

They were wrong. They had been released. And I was the first person to ever see them.

I had been employed by the Saturday Evening Post Company right out of college, working for one of their small subsidiary magazines. Wanting something bigger to advance my career, I was on the prowl for a best selling book. Suddenly, that book fell into my hands from the President of the United States. Every major publisher in America wanted to make a bid for the rights to publish it, and Paramount movies even called and told me, "Don't sign with anyone until we have the last bid." But I would never complete the book.

Two years into the project, something out of this world happened to me.

I heard Jesus say to me, plain as day, "Do not write that (Indianapolis).Write this."

He then supernaturally pulled me from my body and escorted me to a spiritual world of angels at war. He told me, "Write what you see."

Thus began a series of out-of-body journeys with the Lord that lasted over four decades. He always told me, "Write what you see." The impending result was a trilogy of books that I called my "War of the Angels" works.

I understood that my writing career was finished, when War of the Angels became more than just books. It was a movement. I created a popular website www.waroftheangels.com, which became a "supernatural" message board visited by millions per month, with multitudes who testified of similar encounters.

Now after forty years in a spiritual wilderness, the Lord has returned me to my career as an author. He held my face in both hands and said, "Well done." I am now free to write what I wish, and resume where I left off when he called me.

Welcome to my Official Website. Hope you enjoy my current and future books. I plan to launch a new book every three months. Check the "News" tab for information when books are planned for release. Happy reading. The Lord is good.

Now where was I forty years ago? Oh yeah, I remember.

"It was a dark and stormy night."