On a recent trip to my brother in Ohio, he casually mentioned he had recently encountered Bigfoot--right there on his farm.
"What? Where?" I demanded.
"Along a trail in the back woods. He even left foot prints where he crossed."
This I had to see. Off we went in the farm ATV, but alas, a thorough examination revealed no foot prints in the path, only sucking mud.
Suddenly, my brother stopped, rigid and silent, and pointed. There, behind a screen of trees, something large was looking back.
Was it Sasquatch? Hell, no. Just a big carved statue. My brother had fooled his gullible little brother good.
That's the problem with being a writer. Too much imagination, not enough common sense.
Right now I'm working on Next Exit, Dansville, a psychological suspense thriller. A murderer attempts to flee the scene of his crime, but no matter how far he runs, he can't escape the deed he has done.
Coming "soon." Like in a year or so. I wish I could write faster, but I want every book to be an exciting reader experience.
Meanwhile, I bring you these newsletter tidbits so you can get to know me.
BTW, that's me and my joker brother, above.
