Legendary Adventures of Doc Copper

by Darek Isaacs

Genres: YA Action & Adventure

Synopsis

Doc and his team are the youngest ever to compete in the prestigious Quad Continental desert race. No one knew they'd soon be fighting for survival—and maybe for something even greater. This adrenaline-pumping debut novel with a generous dose of laughs is perfect for boys ages 11–15, or anyone ready to dive into a page-turning adventure.

Teenage racing sensation Doc Copper and his spirited Bell Buckle Gang are tapped to represent the United States in the legendary Quad Continental desert race. Armed with little more than raw talent, grit, and youthful exuberance, they face seasoned competitors, unforgiving terrain, and dangers that push them beyond the limits of endurance.

From scorching sands and treacherous canyons to lawless border towns and unexpected adversaries—including the wild and fearsome stallion known as Fire Face—every mile tests their courage and resolve. What begins as a quest for a championship soon becomes a fight for survival.

When disaster strikes and the dream of victory hangs by a thread, Doc discovers that true strength isn’t found in chasing glory, but in racing for something far greater than himself.

This laugh-out-loud, heart-pounding adventure delivers high-octane thrills, unforgettable characters, and a timeless story of perseverance, friendship, and the will to never give up.

Release date: June 2, 2026

Publisher: Good Books

Print pages: 400

Sample

A fierce wind swept across the Baja, whipping up sand as thousands of cheering spectators squinted against the pebble-laden gust, eagerly awaiting the start of the legendary race.

But Doc Copper was impervious to the desert elements. The thirteen-year-old embraced the wind, stinging sand, and the promise of unforgiving desert heat that waited for him. He longed for the agony of thirst, the threat of the unknown, and the danger of unmitigated speed. When he was in its throes, it meant he was doing the very thing he was born to do: racing.

But this time, it was more than just a race.

He stared ahead at the vast, barren Baja desert that stretched as far as the eye could see. Somewhere out there was the battle of his life and a chance for racing glory. His big, dark brown eyes popped with intensity and teetered on the tip of insanity as his body flowed with high octane adrenaline. He felt the engine pulse beneath him as the pistons fired in perfect sync. The heat from the engine began to steam up his leg, but it was the right kind of pain.

Doc pressed his chest against the bars. He pulled the clutch, shifted the high-strung racing machine into first gear, and pushed the engine within a millimeter of the redline. The engine roared, almost lurching forward, primed for the popping of the clutch.

He tilted his head, and yelled out, “This is going to be legendary!”

Mac Irons, his navigator, responded with his customary, blunt, and choppy way, “Yep.”

Mac’s intense anticipation pushed beads of sweat down his brow and cheeks, and they began to soak into the padding of his helmet.

Doc glanced to his right and left, seeing nothing but enemies flanking them. “The entire planet’s coming after us,” he said.

Mac grunted back, “Yep.”

“Let ’em come,” Doc replied.

“Now you’re speaking my language,” Mac replied.

Ethan Oxidant, the British racer to Doc and Mac’s left, yelled over the roar of the engines, and as loud as it was, nothing could drown out Ethan’s narcissistic scorn. “Hey, Doc, nice ride. I’m a little surprised it still runs.”

Doc knew exactly what Ethan meant, and his scoffing did nothing but add more fury to the raging fire. “Hold that thought,” Doc yelled back, and then pointed to the desert. “We’ll pick this up out there.”

Mac spoke into his helmet’s headset, “That punk would make a nun pull a switch blade.”

The Australian team held down the spot to Doc’s right, and the Aussie driver lifted his helmet just enough to spit on Doc’s front tire. “Let me guess,” the Aussie said, “you want to make this race great again?”

Mac threatened with his fist. “How ‘bout I make your face great again?”

Doc and Mac never wanted to war so bad, and Mac yelled into the madness, “Doc, if you don’t crush these guys, I’m going to let Fire Face kick you in the face.”

Doc rifled back, “If I don’t crush these guys, I’ll let him kick me in the face.”

A young girl walked out into the sandy, cacti-riddled starting line. She began waving a flag in front of the greatest junior off-road racers the world had ever assembled.

“Mac,” Doc said, “have you ever heard of American Exceptionalism?”

“Yep,” Mac cracked his neck.

Doc grinned, “Here comes exhibit A.”

“Roger that,” Mac quipped back.

Another strong gust kicked up the desert silt. Doc pushed in his goggles, making sure the seal was tight.

The girl was waving that flag high above her head, and then Doc saw the slightest pause in her motion. “HANG ON!” he screamed.

The flag dropped.

Chaos.

* * *

One Year Earlier

Fireworks popped, cracked, and left a smoky haze in the rafters of the indoor arena at the national sixteen and under ATV championships.

“Yeah!” Doc Copper cheered as he let loose of the handlebars of his beloved Honda racing ATV, which he had named The Drakon. He thrust his arms up high as he soared fifteen feet in the air while crossing the finish line.

Doc skidded upon landing, and then busted out his customary donut celebration, kicking dirt into the first rows of the cheering fans.

As he spun his ATV to a stop and stood up on his pegs, he saluted Old Glory, which hung proudly in the rafters. That made the crowd love the boy even more.

He patted his four-wheeler like it was a faithful friend and then found his mom and dad in the crowd and gave them a big thumbs up.

His dad, Dean Copper, the famed steeplechase racehorse trainer, reached fatherhood utopia as he saw his boy achieving both of their dreams. But his mother, Rachel, succumbed to utter mortification. Not because their only son had just become the youngest national champion ever in the sixteen and under division at merely twelve years old, but because he was a fearless daredevil, with all the giftedness of a natural born racer to go with it.

Dean didn’t need a cypher to understand the puzzle on Rachel’s face, and he tried to remind her that this was the path she had chosen for Doc. “Hey, remember what you wanted?”

“Remember? Remember what?” she asked.

Dean had to yell above the crowd noise. “You said you didn’t want him racing horses.”

Indignant, Rachel stared her husband in the eyes. “How is this any better?”

Dean pointed to the jumbotron. “Look.”

The big screen zoomed in on Doc and The Drakon. The announcer roared, “Doc Copper! Your new national champion!”

The crowd erupted with cheers that overpowered the thumping victory music that shook the arena. Confetti showered down, and strobe lights flickered to the point of disorientation.

Doc gazed upward through the clouds of confetti to see himself on the big screen. He smiled as the camera circled around. He made sure to show off the back of his classic, brown leather motorcycle jacket. It had a standing collar with dual, off-white stripes adorning the sleeves. Stitched into the back of the shoulders was the custom embroidered logo that read, “Copper Racing.”

That day, Doc Copper was submerged in the euphoric ecstasy of the overindulgent star-hungry craze in America. And then he saw the smiling girl with the three-foot-tall trophy walking his way, and he didn’t know if he’d ever be the same again.