The first book in our Sam Travis Adventure Series is now available, and we’ve already begun the second!
Early readers are buzzing:
“This is a fun, entertaining, shocking and thought-provoking read.”
As Lethal Game appears in all online retail outlets and library ordering services over the coming week or so, you’ll find this fun new book on Amazon NOW.
Some people are dumb, okay? And Sam Travis knows this better than most. In his neck of the woods in the gorgeous Western Massachusetts mountains called the Berkshires, he might see headlines like, “Hunters should take care to target only legal game, not bald eagles or German shepherds.”
Really, people?
In this new book, this guy Sam tends to tangle with unscrupulous characters as well as civilians who just make dumb mistakes. Some are downright stupid-funny.
But when somebody kills Sam’s long-time partner, an older game warden who was Sam’s mentor and partner, the gloves come off. “There’ll be hell to pay!” he says, and he means it.
Let there be no doubt: through the course of this book, the feces do strike the reciprocal mass… at velocity!
2. The New Relevant Fiction Podcast – Episode 1
You’ll also want to catch the debut episode of my new podcast, “Relevant Fiction: Stories with a Conscience,” to meet the real-life incarnation of Sam Travis, my partner in this outdoor adventure series, Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired).
You’ll learn what being an undercover operative is truly like in this episode, and why illegal harvesting of wildlife is a global enterprise involving some of the most unscrupulous characters on the planet.You’ll also better understand why such a criminal enterprise is not only dangerous, but an unconscionable crime against nature.
In this first episode, I’m excited to interview Tom Kasprzak, a.k.a. LT, retired from the Massachusetts Environmental Police Force. His stories will curl your toes until they cramp. And then some. Lethal Game is a novel, but it’s based on a few of Tom’s more cringeworthy true-life experiences. And he made damn sure I portrayed them in authentic clarity. He provides the stories, I provide the storytelling. You won’t want to miss this first episode of the Relevant Fiction podcast.
You will receive a link to the first episode of this new podcast by subscribing (it’s free) at GKJurrens.com, if you haven’t already done so, and you’ll be the very first to grab your free episode!
Coming soon to wherever you get your podcasts (as soon as I recover my voice to finish recording and producing)!
In future episodes, I’ll explore socially relevant issues in some of my other books, as well as those of other authors. The common theme: social relevancy.
Check out the new group HERE. Its genesis sprung from the new podcast above. My intent? This would be a fun forum to engage in further discussion after each podcast, which I hope will be thought-provoking. But it’s already becoming a nice safe place to express any opinion relative to fiction, except for hard-core politics. Serenity is fragile, is it not?
We’d love to see you contribute your own wits to this community, intended for anyone who’s interested in fiction that not only entertains, but presents itself as relevant to our lives outside of fiction. Maybe. You determine that. Fun to discuss.
And, oh, I can’t do this alone, my friends.
That’s it! So, until next time, and wherever…
Let’s roll!
Gene
And below… I only snap pictures of bumper stickers I like. So, here ya go:
You’ll think I’m crazy! Maybe I am. But don’t tell my blushing bride!
ALL of my books are FREE the entire month of July on Smashwords
(eBook editions)!
Keep reading, and I’ll show you how to score your own copies of all eleven books….
In this issue:
New Novel News (of course)
Reminder: Hot New Adventure Coming in Four Weeks
Time for a Memoir?
Travel & New State of Residence?
Audiobooks Next?
Crazy Book Sale (is it a sale when they’re FREE?)
Whenever we visit the home of the world-famous Mayo Clinic, also our home town, we take care of as much of our medical business as possible. At our age, that takes some time and attention.
We’ve been enjoying family and friends while here in Rochester, Minnesota, as we are blessed to do so for a while almost every summer. We do love this part of the country… in the summer!
1. New Novel Progress
Well, what do you expect? I’m an author. I write books. If I’m not producing new books, I’m not bringing home the bacon. Interesting turn of phrase for a vegan, right?
In my last newsletter, I mentioned the second book in my Literati Mystery series, “Secret Swords,” and that I was toying with a different title: “Dancing With Death.” I asked for feedback. Some said, “The new title is much better, but not the series name. The word, ‘Literati’ doesn’t sing to me.”
Hey, you speak, I listen. This series is now “Aubrey Greigh Mysteries.” Unless I receive more feedback to the contrary, here’s what I envision for this new book (coming Fall 2023). Let me know any further thoughts, please. I even re-issued a new edition of Voodoo Vendettawith an updated cover for consistency.
2. Reminder: A Hot New Outdoor Adventure Coming In Four Weeks….
This first Sam Travis Adventure is available for PREORDER NOW!
That means that you can buy it today at a reduced pre-publication price of $3.99 (USD) and Amazon will deliver its Kindle edition to any or all of your smart devices automatically on August 1st.
I am thrilled at the reaction from early readers/critics of this engaging and sometimes humorous adventure tale based on the real-life law enforcement experiences of my new friend, Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired) from the Massachusetts Environmental Police. Has he got stories!
New news: LT and I are already working on the second Sam Travis Adventure. We envision the title to be Lethal Trail. I have no draft artwork of the cover to share with you yet, but we’re excited about the book’s premise (look for it before Christmas, with a little luck):
Something is happening in Sam Travis’s backyard, but with no clue as to what that might be. Yet.
Since 1974, thirteen people have disappeared while hiking or camping on the Appalachian National Scenic Trail—called the AT by locals and hikers. Some of these fell prey to foul play. Several hikers have disappeared within the previous year alone, and three of those were last heard from on the ninety miles of the trail that passes through the Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts.
Then, a fourteen-year-old girl is kidnapped, beaten and abused. She turns up on her own, bruised and bloody, after hiking down one of Sam’s mountains to a parking lot near the Massachusetts stretch of the AT.
Sam has a reputation for finding people—alive or dead—and for wilderness tracking. In other words, a recovery expert. He’s called in to consult with the Massachusetts State Police and the FBI. It is critical they find where the girl was held. Amnesia is blocking her memory.
Similar cases in four other states on or near the AT lead authorities to suspect some or all might be connected. But the kidnapped girl who was left for dead is the only victim found alive. She is the key to tracking and apprehending one or more serial rapists, or more likely serial killers who seem to be on a multi-state spree. And they are escalating.
Sam and his team are called in to work with the girl, and to participate in three searches spanning a period of two months and three states. The trick is to distinguish those hikers who disappeared because they succumbed to weather, disorientation, malnutrition, exposure, dehydration, wildlife attacks, OR from victims of foul play. That is challenging if no body is found after someone is reported missing, often weeks or months later.
But then a hiker is discovered in a shallow grave. His belongings are missing, and there is evidence of sharp force trauma—he was stabbed. A homicide is declared. These investigations now take a different turn with a sense of urgency. Travis and his unusual team are called in once more.
End-to-end, the AT reaches 2,193 miles. It takes at least three months to “through hike” from northern Georgia to Maine, though most folks take longer than that. More than three million people hike a portion of the trail each year. Almost a thousand through-hikers walk its entire wilderness length annually.
Changes in elevation are equivalent to Mt. Everest’s sixteen times over. It’s been called the most dangerous and longest hiking trail in the world.
Injuries and fatalities occur, but the intentional human-on-human disappearances? That’s where Sam, his quirky team of trackers, informants, and investigators help solve those crimes and catch the criminals—a juicy, and sometimes comedic recipe for adventure and intrigue.
3. Time for a Memoir?
A friend who is a New York Times best-selling author once told me, “Geno, you’re never gonna make any of the best-seller lists if you keep hopping genres. You write historical crime fiction, fictional autobiographies (fictional memoirs?), murder mysteries, now outdoor adventures, and you dabble in futuristic paranormal romantic mysteries. Plus, some non-fiction…. What the hell?”
I told him, “I don’t care. I write what’s in my heart.” He didn’t say it, but I could feel his thoughts bludgeoning me: “Oh, you’re one of those!” He strictly writes for commercial success, and I’m very happy for him.
So, he tossed me a challenge: “Okay, smart guy, I challenge you to write a really solid book that nobody will buy!” Game on. I wrote a book of poetry for people who hate poetry (The Poetic Detective). And it’s selling! Not a lot. But that’s okay.
Now, why not write a (non-fiction) memoir targeting readers who hate memoirs? “They” can’t stop me! In truth, who cares? Well, I’m hoping you will. How’s this for a working title: “Confessions of a Pathological Believer –In Science, Superstition, and Emotional Addiction.”
Am I crazy? I hope so! Most good authors are. Confessionsshould be an interesting read when I get around to finishing the damn thing. I’m hoping it will be available by mid-2024.
4. Travel & New State of Residence?
We’re hanging out here in Southeast Minnesota for another six weeks or so. Then, we’re off to the Black Hills of South Dakota (we love that area). But this time, we also plan to establish South Dakota as our state of domicile.
Now that we don’t plan to spend much time in Florida anymore (we’ll miss our friends, but not hurricanes!), we need a new official state of residence. What to do?
This means we’ll officially become SD residents from a legal perspective. Why? Like Florida, no state income tax. Unlike Florida, however, where we’d have to physically reside for six months of every year (no longer our plan), we only have to be in-state once every five years (to renew our drivers’ license)!
We’ll register our RV and cars there (then, we can get new plates by mail each year), and register to vote (they honor absentee ballots, and the mail forwarding service we’ll use (Dakota Post) forwards absentee ballots, unlike our other service in Florida.
Yup, SD is by far THE friendliest state in the union for full-time RVers like us. Gotta think differently lacking a real estate address nowadays.
5. Audiobook Editions?
I’m finally returning to creating audiobook editions of my manuscripts. As a DIY project, this is an aggressive undertaking. So much to learn. But I enjoy that.
Why create audiobook editions? I’ve asked so many folks, “Do you read books?” only to hear “Only ‘Books on Tape'” from some. Of course, they mean audiobooks. That means I’m missing a market. Like the old lottery player’s motto, “You can’t win if you don’t play.”
Being a control freak, and a cheap one at that, I can’t justify paying a professional voice artist four figures to narrate each of my books. Plus, many of the folks who enjoy audiobooks have said they prefer listening to an author narrating their own work.
I promise that producing and performing one’s own audiobooks is not for the faint of heart. At least three reasons:
A good deal of technology (hardware) and technical (software/audio) knowledge must be mastered to avoid rejection by audiobook distribution channels,
Requires an investment in hardware (an ultra-quiet “recording booth,” a quality microphone, an interface between the mike and my computer) and software (a digital audio workstation, a.k.a. DAW),
New skills must be mastered that most might take for granted – that of a voice-over artist.
To the first point, audio computer file requirements and what each contains are exacting. I won’t bore you with the details.
Second, eliminating echoes, outside and ambient room noises require soundproofing a space within which to record (a “booth”). My Behringer phantom-powered pro microphone is crazy sensitive. I need that to record quality sound.
Plus, the DAW I use (recording studio software) must be able to record precise acoustical results and analyze them to ensure I don’t flunk #1 above without spending hundreds of dollars per hour renting studio time. Plus, did I mention I live in a bus?
And third, I am humbled by what it takes to effectively narrate a quality audiobook. I had no idea! Narrators don’t just “read the book aloud” as someone records their voice. They perform the book! Huge difference!
Soooo, if you’re interested, I thought I’d share with you an audio draft of one chapter fromVoodoo Vendetta(chapter 8). I have yet to scrub it for technical requirements, and while I never like the recorded sound of my own voice, I’m told that listeners just have to “not hate it.” We’ll see, right? If you have an opinion after listening to this 5-minute clip, shoot me an email at gjurrens@yahoo.com. Thanks in advance:
Listen to Chapter 8 of Voodoo Vendetta (not in context – sample of sound quality & performance):
6. Crazy Book Sale – They’re ALL FREE IN JULY!
Yup, that ain’t just hype. My entire set of eleven published works (so far) are free the entire month of July–all eBook editions on Smashwords, that is (an Amazon alternative).
Here’s how to score my entire collection at no cost:
Sign into smashwords.com or sign up for a new account (it’s free)
Search for “jurrens” at the top of the window
Click on “buy” for any or all of my books.
Don’t forget to scroll down to see all eleven books
Checkout
Choose payment method
Optional: Subscribe to receive notifications of my new releases.
Proceed to checkout
Easy. All I ask in return is a paragraph or three in reaction to each book you read (even if you don't finish it). Send your thoughts to gjurrens@yahoo.com. Tell me what you enjoyed or hated. Either way, I'll be grateful.
Remember, “the difference between ordeal and adventure is attitude!”
In this issue – with attitude:
The Big Show
Cold Wrinkles
Hot New Adventure Book This Summer
Cool New Mystery This Fall
Take what you like… leave the rest. Thanks for being here!
After a crazy winter, March came thundering at us like a ravenous lion. We asked for a lot of it. Much we did not. But we now hurtle toward our fate with our eyes wide open, eagerly anticipating the next twist. We’re putting ourselves out there.
It’s our time to suck the juice from fickle fruit—bitter or sweet, and that damn lion is still thundering toward us.
Bring it on, you mangy cat!
1. The Big Show
After packing our most treasured relics from lives already well-lived, and after selling our last remaining piece of real estate, we aimed our forty-three-foot eight-wheel home northward. We left SW Florida in our rearview mirror and headed for central Georgia with adrenaline-fueled excitement coursing through our veins.
What happens when you cluster a mob of RVs in one place where lots of people with similar interests hunker down together? For most, that means fun and excitement.
During the week of March 15th, we set up our rolling home on the Georgia State Fairgrounds along with some two-thousand-one-hundred other RVs. That’s probably over four thousand folks who lust for life on the road, as do Kay and I.
Enter the 106th Family Motor Coach Association (FMCA) International Convention, and Perry, Georgia was hopping.
Seventy-seven folks attended my seminars on Inspired Creative Writing & Publishing. They received what I had to say very favorably.
In fact, FMCA has already asked me to present again next March at their Tucson convention. Let’s go!
I also spent ten hours over four days selling my books—I sold seventy-five. What that means to my lovely bride of fifty-four years—this month—is that we now haul just two cartons of inventory around North America instead of six, at least until I receive another print run for my next round of seminars and book sales in Minnesota this summer.
So to all of you who attended my seminars and/or bought my books in Perry, Miss Kay and I thank you.
2. Cold Wrinkles
No, y’all, I’m not now whining about early spring temperatures, which were frigid, at least to us—we’ve long-since been “Floridated.” Rather, the freezer in our big old French-door residential fridge in the bus kicked the proverbial bucket.
They figure it was a compressor gone bad. But because this was a twin compressor unit—deluxe at its birth, circa 2010—the fridge continued to work fine. Just no freezer.
Built like a brick, the venerable old Samsung was a teenager—thirteen years old. What’s that in dog years? High time for an upgrade to something that works, top to bottom, even under the frequent earthquake conditions (a.k.a. crappy roads that shake our guts and our equipment).
Now, this might amuse you. We spent several days at the Newmar factory service center in northern Indiana (where this bus was built seventeen years ago), so they know what they’re doing. Quite the amazing facility.
Said they needed to take out a ten-foot row of cabinets over the driver’s side living room windows and remove a picture window, so four strong men outside could hoist the new twenty-cubic-foot three-door Whirlpool fridge/freezer up and in to two strong men inside! After they disassembled and hauled out “old busted” and hoisted in “new hotness,” that is. No big deal. For them. Just a SMOM (Small Matter Of Money)!
Yeah, it was time. And it happened, with less than a 1/32″ clearance!
The plan worked—the first time. Almost like they knew exactly what they were doing.
Now, since this was an unplanned remove/replace, the team ran out of time.
So we planned to return to Newmar after Spartan Motors serviced our chassis (everything below “the house” like the engine, drive train, suspension, air brakes, etc.).
We then drove to Ontario to visit some friends, then down to Cleveland to visit my dear sister, Yvonne. And back to Spartan in southern Michigan to pick up the coach.
Then we returned to Newmar in Nappanee to allow the boys to finish trimming out the fridge and install our new slide toppers. Those are heavy fabric awnings that cover our slide-out rooms when extended.
Piece a cake!
Now, let’s talk about slides—you know, mechanical room expanders. Also called slide-outs or slide-out rooms. We have four. Without four slide-outs the bus is very cramped and not as livable.
Two opposing slides in the bedroom make that a cozy space with plenty of room to walk around the king bed. Likewise, two opposing slides in the living room really open that space up. Very comfy.
On the other hand, when any of those four motorized slides don’t behave, well, think of losing about twenty percent of the dimensions of the room where you spend the most time.
Yup, our passenger’s side living room slide decided to grow temperamental on us in recent months. Well, we were in the right place.
They replaced the brake on that slide’s motor (which wanted to stay locked and not allow the motor to move the slide), and… mischief managed. We’re back in business! SMOM.
One more wrinkle that surprised us.
We’re vegetarians with a bad freezer whose fridge could have failed at any moment. That meant we resorted to provisioning with canned beans of all types as a major source of our protein.
Canned goods are heavy. We challenged the strength of every full extension drawer in our “pantry.”
Within the first two weeks of our new full-time RV lifestyle, three of four drawers in our pantry collapsed.
Remember, when we roll the house down the road at 65 or 75 MPH, we’re seriously wiggling the needle on the ole Richter scale.
Fortunately, it was a small matter for the Newmar techs to fortify our drawers so they wouldn’t drop our heavy larder all over the floor! Thank you, Newmar techs! (SMOM redux).
We took a road trip in the Jeep to Niagara Falls, Ontario. Illuminating.
While the bus was getting her yearly physical at Spartan Motors in Southern Michigan, we took a road trip in the Jeep to Niagara Falls, Ontario. Illuminating. More casinos and wineries in one place than we’ve ever seen (no wineries in Vegas).
Oh, and our first view of the falls from 733 feet above ground level (the observation deck of the Skylon Tower) took our breath away.
We then said goodbye to our Canadian friends and headed to Cleveland to spend a wonderful weekend with family there. Delightful. Got word our bus was done at the Spartan chassis service center (annual maintenance), and returned to Newmar in northern Indiana to finish up there installing parts that had to be re-ordered.
And here we sit. Again. Comfortably.
3. Hot New Adventure Book Coming This Summer….
A reminder….
This next book will be available August 1st. A skilled team of pre-publication readers have been buzzing with enthusiasm about this first book of this new series.
I am thrilled at the reaction from these early readers/critics to the first book of an engaging and sometimes humorous adventure series based on the real-life law enforcement experiences of my new friend, Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired) from the Massachusetts Environmental Police. Has he got stories!
The good news? LETHAL GAME CAN BE PRE-ORDERED IF YOU CLICK RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW!That means that you can buy it today at a reduced pre-publication price of $3.99 (USD) and Amazon will deliver the Kindle edition to any or all of your smart devices automatically the moment it becomes available.
If you don’t own a Kindle device, no problem. Follow the link above to the book’s Amazon page. Directly under the price of the book, click on “Read with Our FREE App.”Download that app and you’ll be able to read any Kindle book on all of your smart devices (phone, tablet, computer….).
I offer you an excerpt of this new book here:
Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege
A Sam Travis Adventure
Saturday Morning,
October 1st
Glenville, Massachusetts
* * *
These woods always reminded Frank Murdock of Christmas. The pine and hemlock trees that loomed over the log cabin stained its brownish exterior to somewhere between a weathered gray and the black of neglect. But it always smelled like Christmas.
Out front, a sign nailed to a post announced,
Frank swung open the cabin’s screen door. It banged against its stops as he stepped out onto the porch and filled his lungs. Sometimes he felt stronger than he himself expected. The truth? He had grown too darn old and tired for the job. But he’d admit that to no one out loud, not even to himself.
He slapped away the cobwebs from the top corner of the screen door. They weren’t there last night. A few clung to the sergeant’s stripes on his right shoulder. Those stripes were less faded than the rest of his forest-green uniform. He scratched at the third-day stubble on his jowled neck.
The grizzled game service veteran hobbled side-to-side out to his Bronco, a clone of the one that his partner, the promising young Sam Travis drove, though rustier. But for the sweet fart of fate, he’d have lost one or more of that truck’s Swiss cheese fenders behind him in a ditch on a country road.
His left knee gave him trouble most of the time. Today was one of those days. Not the only thing that irritated him, though.
These dents and all this grime? Past adventures, eh? If we get some budget, maybe the boss springs for a new fleet of Broncs… yeah, sure thing—come a hell a Sundays!
Frank grabbed the handle, swung open the driver’s door with a screech from its pair of rust-dry hinges, and hoisted his creaky carcass up into the driver’s seat. His eyes had grown bloodshot from filling out forms for the last hour.
Blasted paperwork…two more years and I’m gone… gone… gone….
Twisted the ignition key.
Bam!
The Bronco sputtered and stalled. Murdock slammed his fist against the wheel. The muscles in his jaw rippled. Didn’t mean to grind every single natural tooth left in his mouth. Probably chipped at least one, or worse. He was sure to put the dentist’s youngest boy through his freshman year at Holyoke Community College.
Twisted the ignition key again. More sputtering.
Fire up, you son-of-a-bitch!
Finally, the engine took pity on the old woods cop. After a quick J-turn, Murdock drove past the cabin in a cloud of dust with sparks shooting from the exhaust pipe—actually, from the hole in the pipe in front of the rusted muffler. One more backfire, and the Bronco disappeared, leaving a pall of blue smoke in its trail.
Murdock bumped along a remote dirt road that was more of a game trail than an actual thoroughfare. His chunky trail tires kicked out gravel. Clotted chunks of mud had caked inside all four wheel wells before the first freeze. Stayed all dried up in there, now, like gray concrete.
Intermittent static issued from his dash radio. Then, the sultry tones of their female dispatcher offered a welcome respite from the noise that the radio’s antiquated squelch could not defeat. Murdock had been warned about his playful flirting. Like he had a shot!
“Unit twenty-one… unit twenty-one… please respond to a shooting complaint near the abandoned hotel at Wolf Hollow.”
Shit. Means another hike to the top of that wretched ridge.
He tried not to sound pissed at that silky voice washing over him from his radio’s speaker. Or too sarcastic. What was her name, again? “Unit twenty-one received. Thanks a lot!”
“Sorry, Frank. You’re the only officer in that district. Complainant states she’s heard shots fired there for over a week now.”
“Received and en route.”
A week-old complaint. Typical.
Murdock pointed his Bronc up into the hills on the winding road toward Wolf Hollow. Clouds of dust swirled behind, but a fair amount of it filled his Bronc, too. Swiss cheese wheel wells’ll encourage that.
Coming around a curve too fast, he slammed on his brakes. Dust engulfed him and the Bronc. Almost got jammed up on a fallen tree and half a dozen boulders.
Great. A landslide. Just what I need.
Murdock snatched the microphone from its hook on the dash. “Unit twenty-one on portable at Wolf Hollow.”
“Received, twenty-one.”
This trail’s a cuss-ed mess!
Still muttering to himself, he climbed out of the cruiser, surveying the steep incline. Spotted the head of a foot trail he knew led to the abandoned hotel up top.
Murdock chose his steps with care. Didn’t need a twisted ankle. Small rocks tumbled around his feet as he walked, rolling down the steep trail behind him, clattering in complaint.
Frank stopped for a moment on the incline to do a quick three-sixty. A panoramic view of the countryside from the ridge reminded him why he chose this line of work. Breathtaking. He loved his Western Massachusetts mountains.
The wind had picked up. Or more likely, it hadn’t, but felt like it up on the ridge. Leaves rustled as they took to the air, skittering across his path.
And there it was—the abandoned hotel. Not much left other than its foundation, a concrete slab, and two camouflaged tents pitched there, all organized like it was a professional operation of some sort. He could guess.
He approached the campsite, now on full alert, and still managed to step right into a still-steaming pile of dog crap.
Shit!
He dragged his soiled boot over a pile of dead leaves that had accumulated up against a rotten log. Still shaking his boot every other step, Frank continued on into the campsite.
Off to his right hung camo pants drying on a clothesline. There was a wire run for dogs, and the remains of a fire. Just a bed of ashes within an impromptu rock circle.
Murdock soft-stepped up to a tent that was zippered shut like the other one. He unzipped it, bottom up, for a peek inside. Halfway up, he stooped, pushed aside the flaps, and faced a barking, snarling whirlwind of teeth, fur and blazing eyes, inches away.
He flew butt behind heels onto his ass, stunned by the attack.
Gee-ZEUS!
The dog choked against his now ribbon-tight chain to get at him from inside that tent.
The hound relented, but continued to snarl in frustration as Murdock got to his feet. Then he noticed drops of blood glistening on dried leaves near where he had stumbled back. He stooped to run a finger over it.
Still stooping, he sniffed—the drop smelled coppery. Eyeballed it up close. Rubbed it in a circular motion between his right thumb and forefinger. Yup. Blood.
After his third three-sixty scan since entering the camp, he followed the intermittent blood trail. He often bragged he could track anything, anywhere, anytime. And he had.
The trail led him to a clearing surrounded by… camouflaged netting? And a game pole constructed of two straight hardwood tree limbs driven into the ground ten feet apart. Someone had strung a rope between the poles eight feet off the ground. Guy ropes outboard of the poles ensured they would support tremendous weight.
He saw four dead bears hanging by their necks. They’d cut off their paws at the wrists and stripped their hides down from their necks to reveal incisions deep into abdominal flesh. Still raw and bloody. And steaming.
What the fuck? A crew of pro poachers!
* * *
The end of a rifle barrel poked out of the bushes just twenty yards away, brushing a limb and its dried leaves. The crosshairs of a scope centered on Murdock’s back. A finger tightened, and….
* * *
Murdock spun around, reacting to a sound any normal sixty-two-year-old pair of ears would have missed. At that moment, a bullet struck Frank three inches above and four inches to the left of his chest’s center. He sprawled backwards.
* * *
The poacher walked toward the fallen game warden. Leaves crunched beneath his boots in the now deadly silent forest.
Murdock’s voice wheezed, “Help. Please.”
A raspy laugh echoed in the silence. The poacher’s response to Murdock’s plea with the rifle pointed at his forehead? A blast that shattered the forest’s silence.
The man with the mean eyes kicked the uniformed piece of meat at his feet as he drew in the sweet scent of cordite.
4. Cool New Mystery This Fall….
Also, look for the second book in my Literati Mystery series this Fall, Secret Swords (working title & draft cover art). I’m experimenting with an alternate title and cover: Dancing With Death.Which do you prefer? Let me know!
Synopsis (draft):
Someone is murdering Windy City movie stars a few summers from now. But a larger story launches from Denmark before carving its bloody path into the American Midwest.
Studio executives & politicians demand answers as the investigation flounders.
At first, Chicago Police Captain Lois Granger believes this is just another nasty serial homicide case complicated by the wild imagination of her pain-in-the-neck suspended Detective McQuillan, a.k.a. McQ, and celebrity Scottish author, a self-styled amateur sleuth, Sir Aubrey Greigh. But later, she’ll risk all herself to unmask a horrifying secret.
Greigh recruits Chance McQuillan, on compulsory leave, to covertly investigate a series of murders as a civilian. Later, they labor to thwart a plot to incite international mayhem & mass murder with an alphabet soup of agencies. The cost of failure? Unthinkable.
Then, tough-as-nails police commissioner, Jack Roberts gets a call from Interpol. From that moment, everything changes. But not for the better.
Yup, we’re definitely blitzin’ over here in the bus!
So, until next time… and wherever you and I are, my friend…
Let’s roll!
Gene
P.S. The gear to tow a car behind the bus and two bicycles above all the tow gear? Nothin’ to it, right?
Feelin’ shiny in the motorhome’s “spare room” (inside my noise-cancelling headphones)!
2023 is off and running…. So are we! So much has happened since late December. Allow me to share three exciting new ingredients we’ve added to our personal recipe!
In this issue:
A New Collaboration
A New Phase
A New Chapter
I can’t believe we’re leaving this gorgeous place along with our old and new friends. But we have horizons to cross, strangers to meet, new friends to embrace. And no parting is forever. Keep reading.
Life surprises us with its constantly evolving recipe with joy, intrigue, drama, tragedy and comedy. Events that blend together—some fiery and passionate, others that calm and sooth.
And sometimes, our lives are inundated with an avalanche of events—whether we choose them or they just happen. That can feel overwhelming.
Regardless, we each decide whether to savor or recoil from the taste. And whether we should use that recipe again, given the choice.
Most of us think we know the combination of ingredients that will cause smiles to appear or tears to flow.
Maybe we do.
With each new ingredient, we experiment to see how it will affect the recipe. Then, there are circumstances thrust upon us by fate, or kismet, or a universe with a cosmic sense of unfathomable humor.
So, let’s talk about our three new ingredients—Kay’s and mine! Exciting, chilling and spicy.
Besides, I’ve beaten this wretched recipe metaphor to death by now. Don’t you agree?
Moving on….
1. Feature: A New Collaboration
I am excited to announce that I have forged a new collaboration. No, Kay and I are still together. This is different. And a delightful surprise.
One of my readers offered me a screenplay to read that he wrote thirty+ years ago. I read it, and was impressed.
Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired) was an Environmental Police Officer in Massachusetts for thirty-two years.
I’m now embarking on a unique new adventure series based on Tom’s action-packed career. He is a tremendous resource of authentic story material, and we’ve hit it off.
I thought I’d share with you a synopsis of the first book in this new Sam Travis Adventure Series, “Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege“….
A Massachusetts state game warden’s body turns up under a pile of brush in the deep woods. They find a decapitated bear carcass on top of him. It’s paws are missing, too.
Captain Larry Jamison’s personal life is a mess. But he is compelled to investigate the murder of one of his own.
Officer Sam Travis, the victim’s longtime partner, wants vengeance. They both may just be in over their heads to find out what these poachers are after. And why.
These environmental police officers soon discover they have stumbled into something far more insidious than they could have imagined. But that doesn’t stop them from risking everything.
I hope to have this published by August.
I’m grateful for what early readers(pre-publication reviewers) are already saying about “Lethal Game:”
“Thanks for a great read! Your characters are painted vividly, and draw the reader in.“
“The pace is quick and smooth and makes it nearly impossible to stop reading.“
“Lethal Game is awesome! The baby bear scenes are heartrending!”
Allow me to introduce my featured guest for this post, the real-life version of Sam Travis, Environmental Police Officer (EPO)Lieutenant Tom Kasprzak (retired). Tom is the real deal, folks. Here’s why:
My new friend, Tom (a.k.a. LT)
“LT” spent thirty-two years as an EPO for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.
Before graduating in 1977 from the Massachusetts State Police academy, Tom earned the coveted “top gun” award for superior marksmanship.
He began his EPO career as a field officer in various assignments involving both inland and marine enforcement in places like Cape Cod, Boston Harbor and others.
After transferring to the Berkshire Mountains in Western Massachusetts with skills honed from 7+ years of varied case involvement and courtroom testimony, he forged close relationships with local and state police.
Upon being promoted to lieutenant, he led a region of officers in search and rescue operations involving plane crashes, boating fatalities, narcotics, and the investigation and apprehension of various firearm violators.
Beginning in 1986, LT engaged in undercover or supervised undercover operations focused on endangered wildlife.
During that time, he worked with other local, state, and federal agencies on issues ranging from the environment to anti-terrorism.
Tom was selected to train in no fewer than three extended tours at the prestigious Federal Law Enforcement Training Center (FLETC, pronounced “flet-SEE”) in Glynco, Georgia, where federal law enforcement agencies train.
Those intensive and immersive training tours honed his skills for inter-agency undercover operations, marine operations, and advanced operational readiness. He also trained for, and was an Incident Commander in several cases.
During his colorful career, Tom worked with the Massachusetts State Police air wing on helicopter operations, their dive team, apprehension team, marine law enforcement, and environmental police operations.
Tom spent his last seven years assigned to the State Police STOP (apprehension) team headquarters in Chicopee, Massachusetts, along with all the members of the region he supervised.
His undercover assignments brought dozens of individuals to justice who violated state and federal laws. He was also a Deputy National Marine Fisheries agent as well as a U.S Deputy Fish and Wildlife agent at the same time.
His largest case—Operation Berkshire—closed one of the country’s largest illegal commercial wildlife trafficking operations involving twenty-nine individuals, six states and two foreign countries.
The exploits of Tom and his fellow officers from his home state and others led to new exploits in crusading against illegal wildlife commercialization.
National Geographic produced a special called “Wildlife Wars: Bears Under Siege” that featured Tom and his fellow undercover operatives after they closed Operation Berkshire.
Tom taught new recruits at the State Police Academy courses in courtroom procedures, officer ethics and undercover operations.
He also delivered endangered species lectures to schools, colleges, municipal police departments, as well as to other state and federal agencies including US Coast Guard District One in Boston with whom he was specifically trained in LNG (Liquid Natural Gas) tanker escort anti-terrorism protocols in Boston Harbor.
He made a name for himself during dozens of successful missing persons, body recovery cases, undercover operations, anti-terrorism and crime scene investigations.
Tom and his life partner, Karen, now split their time between Western Massachusetts and Southwestern Florida.
I am excited and honored to tell just a few of Tom’s stories (maybe they’re “fictional biographies”?) in this fresh new series where adventure thrusts itself upon an officer of the law in the weirdest, sometimes comedic and often life-threatening ways imaginable.
Look for “Lethal Game – Bears Under Siege,” the first Sam Travis Adventure, late summer 2023. Learn first when it will be available righthere.
Exciting!
Note: This series will comprise medium-length novels based on the true adventures of LT, his fellow officers, and the criminals who were dumb enough to cross paths with these ambitious but light-hearted cops who often operated undercover. My objective: These will be fun reads that you will find unusual, hair-raising and often funny as hell.
2. A New Phase
On a very personal note…
Congratulate me!
I survived my first cardiac event just before Christmas, four days after my last newsletter published.
Huzzah! Part of the ol’ aging process. And an unexpected new ingredient in my own life’s recipe.
This experience also grew to be meaningful to me in an unexpected way.
So, here we go. My life is an open book. That’s why I write, I guess.
Pay attention if your ticker is as old as mine, or if you’re just morbidly curious!
On the afternoon of Thursday, December 22nd, I started to feel… “wonky” (light-headed, a pounding in my temples, and in my throat). No chest pains, though. Getting horizontal became my priority.
My Apple Watch said my heart rate rocketed from 50 BPM (beats per minute) to 165 an instant later. Then, back to 85, then to 140. And so it went for an hour or so.
My feeble brain just couldn’t process what was happening to the rest of my body. Unknown territory, y’all, at least to me and my old Series 2 Apple Watch. The newer (younger?) ones are smarter.
Yes, I thought I’d never get the chance to finish my next book(s), and I wondered how Kay, my family and friends could possibly go on without me (you DO know me, right?).
No, they didn’t shock me, but I did sell a few books to the ambulance crew en route to the Cape Coral Hospital.
But I’m now at the same age my father died from his third heart attack—I seem to remember he was smiling on the way out. But then, hey! I’m still here, Dad! God bless genetics.
Within minutes after Kay called 9-1-1, our bedroom here in our Florida home filled with EMTs from the Cape Coral Fire Department just down the road. The ambulance gang arrived minutes later to join the party.
Now, I won’t lie to you. This “event” scared the crap out of me. I laid on my bed with my pulse racing from wide open throttle—way past the red line—then, to dead slow.
Yup, it was my heart. I mentally recounted the hugging goodbyes I’d never deliver.
Chilling.
With an IV dripping into my left arm from a pole attached to the ambo’s gurney, I dropped back into what’s known as normal sinus rhythm (what it should be) before they even hoisted my strapped-in petard into the ambulance.
Shaved, hooked up, grateful….
At the ER, they slid me through every machine and ran every test known to modern medicine over the next several hours.
Guess what? Some of you know what “atrial fibrillation” is, right? It’s caused by a micro-voltage signal imbalance in the top of the heart, or some such sciency thingy.
My heart got confused and I slipped into “arrhythmia,” or an irregular heart rhythm. But it found its way home before long.
From all the lab work, a stress test and other tests like an EKG, echocardiogram (ultra-sound of the heart), and a nuclear something-or-other, two cardiologists agreed that I am in really good shape despite this “irregularity” (ok, I could stand to lose 6 or 9 pounds that snuck back inside my sweatshirt, somehow), and that being a physically active vegetarian was likely the most remarkable difference between my dad and me at 73.
Even though Dad and I both share the same genetics, our lifestyles could not have been more different. I am grateful for his example. He did what he had to do. I learned from that.
Honestly, the worst part of this little adventure? They kept shaving patches of hair off my chest at the hospital with the dullest blade in the western hemisphere so they could attach probes with adhesive patches held in place with crazy glue, or its facsimile. No, wait… the worst was ripping off those damn patches!
Now, I’ve learned, just about everybody my age I know is already a member of the a-fib club. No big deal, they all say.
I experienced only one additional a-fib episode on January 3rd, and none since. Happy New Year!
They tell me the biggest danger from a-fib is the risk of blood pooling in the heart and clotting. That could migrate and cause a stroke.
So, my blood needs to be just a little thinner—not much—than before, to reduce the risk of stroke if I should slip into a-fib again. I’m very low risk of falling prey to a villainous stroke.
But a-fibs will happen again, especially since it was someone’s bright idea that I continue to age. Seriously, folks? Now, I take a baby aspirin once a day.
That’s it.
I can do that.
But this is a new phase in my (our) life. I think of myself differently. How could I not? Every little “funny feeling” has me second-guessing whether my heart is acting up. Again. Whether it’s fiction or fact.
I am prone to high drama. My index finger shoots to my neck to check the beat. I think, Seems regular. Is this a minor chest pain, and is it significant—another early indicator of the second shoe dropping? Or is it just a sore muscle to consider as part of my pain management regimen?
Thank the gods for 8-Hour Tylenol Arthritis. And so far, the beat goes on.
It’s been said the heart is a rather important component of the human anatomy. But that’s just an Internet rumor, mind you.
A certain freedom then blanketed my worrying heart and mind. Everyone says a-fib ain’t a big deal. And even if my time now is short (now that I’ve achieved ‘middle age’ at 73 – yeah, right), let’s just get going! We’re doing the right stuff, so let’s just do more of it. Or… not!
Out of character (finally)!
I’ve already been blessed with a more interesting and fulfilling life than maybe 95% of the people on the planet. Screw it! This is already a high-scoring game, right? And I’m ahead! Thanks, Dad. He always said, “life is a whisper. Listen to it.”
I do acknowledge current events have temporarily delayed my audiobook endeavors. My microphone is calling my name. But so is the road. I shall heed the call, ladies and germs.
So, be forewarned. I’m taking my own advice. I wrote a verse a while ago and published it in one of my literary experiments last summer. The book is calledThe Poetic Detective. Here are the final six lines of a poem from that book I call, “Wide Open Throttle”
… Eat the fruit, ditch decorum, reach for glory, it’s okay.
We are here for a reason, as a beacon not to worry
about crap we can’t control, about fear that consumes
our best cherries, our great hearts. With others, commune.
As captains with courage we pilot our own ship.
Life is short, so go long, do what’s right, let her rip!
3. A New Chapter
Having uttered these words of full-throttle bravado (you decide whether they ring true for you), we’re just now starting a new chapter in our lives, Kay and me. And yes, “top speed” means something different than it once did. That’s so very okay.
My old friend, Sheriff Steve B, asked if we are, indeed, soon to be homeless. Talk about an exciting new ingredient in our recipe for life. Too spicy? Time will tell.
Our only home (<300 square feet) for the foreseeable future. We’ve spent more than half our time in this old bus over the last 7+ years, already.
Let me say this about that.
So, to what new chapter am I referring? We sold our condo. By Friday, March 10th,Kay and I will own no real estate anywhere in the known universe. Or anywhere else(wink).
Now, here’s the spice. After two months of planning, packing, working with our realtors, a reputable moving company and moving/storage insurance, our move plan fell apart one day prior to the move date.
Spicy, eh?
Remember the old saw about a battle plan is perfect—until the first shot is fired?
Yup. Reset. Plan A for selling the place continues smoothly on track. But Plan B is required for moving and storage of the goods we just couldn’t part with. No problem. We’re getting it done. But… really spicy. Yup, I’m regularly checking my pulse.
After twenty-one delightful years, we are indeed selling our wonderful home that is sorely under-utilized—our only remaining piece of real estate, our condo in Paradise on the gulf coast of Florida. If you’d find a 3D virtual tour amusing, click here. I did a screen grab from the realtor’s website before the listing disappears.
This is a new ingredient for Kay and me since we bought our first house over half a century ago—in 1973. We’ll once again hit the big slab (the Interstates) in our trusty old bus, but this time, with no sticks ‘n bricks (or steel-reinforced concrete) bunker to fall back on. Like the itinerant vagabonds our souls tell us we still can and should be, while we’re still able.
Now, when someone now asks for our home address, or even more ridiculously, our permanent address, after snickering with childish delight, we truly will respond, “wherever we decide to park the bus tonight. But mañana? All bets are off!”
This raises a few interesting questions of many yet to be asked:
What will be our state of residence for purposes of paying (or not paying) state income tax?
Will we be able to retain our Florida residency (no state income tax) if we no longer own a house here?
Where will we register to vote?
Where will we license our motorhome and our toad (that is, the Jeep we tow behind the bus)?
Blah de blah….
Looking forward. It’s not like we’ll be roughing it, other than no garage, of course.
Now, our friends who have been “full-timers” for years will coach us through this new chapter as we write it. But we’ve always had that safety net, “the house” with its very own address.
The only “permanent” address we’ll have now is that of our mail forwarding service. And it truly is amazing how many entities in our life expect us to have a “permanent address!”
Exciting, and different. A new chapter! A new ingredient in our recipe. And yes, I AM the master of the mixed metaphor!
Looking aft from the cockpit
The galley (a.k.a. the kitchen), at least the passenger side of it
Oh, hey!
If you happen to find yourself in Perry, Georgia mid March 2023, I’ll be presenting a couple of my creative writing seminars at the mammoth Family Motor Coach Association’s International Convention.
I’ll also be teaching this topic and others on writing, publishing, the anatomy of the murder mystery genre, etc, in Rochester, Minnesota this summer starting in early June.
That’s all for now.
Look for “Lethal Game” late this Summer in all online storefronts, library services and reader subscriber services worldwide.
So, until next time… and wherever you and I are, my friend…
Happy 2023 to you and yours!
Grateful for a few more trips around the sun,
Gene
Feelin’ shiny in the motorhome’s “spare room” (inside my noise-cancelling headphones)!