As a kid, I was heavily into comic books and superheroes. Spiderman and Wolverine were my favorites. I loved Spiderman for his relatable nature and Wolverine because, well, he was just bad to the bone. And those adamantium claws were pretty cool. I worshiped them; I wanted to be them. In fact, I told a teacher once that I wanted to be the best bank robber ever.
Can you believe that?
What does this all boil down to? I wanted to be significant. I wanted to make a difference. I’m still chasing that lofty goal. That’s all right. Maybe I’ll get there. Someday.
I went to Bowling Green State University, got my degree in telecommunications, then effectively snubbed my nose at all the pretentiousness, figuratively crumbled up my diploma, threw it in the waste can, and worked for a grocery store for twenty years.
I married a wonderful wife and have two kids now. I also became a Christian, and faith is a big part of my life. Now, I’m not into comic books any more, but I try to catch all the Marvel Movies. And you want to know a secret? I do have power, like the kind I used to dream about as a kid. I can’t fly or stop a speeding locomotive, no, but I have the power of Christ in me. And that’s the best power to have
And writing fiction, spreading God’s love, even if it’s just impacting a few lives in meaningful ways, is making a difference. Raising my kids to be God-fearing, respectful, law-abiding citizens, is leaving my mark upon the world. Wouldn’t you agree?
My first book, Convergence, was a labor of love. I’m currently working on another book about aliens in a small Colorado town.
I will read almost anything, except romance and erotica.
Taken in by an aunt bent on ridding herself of this unexpected burden, Baby Teegarten plots her escape using the only means at her disposal: a voice that brings church ladies to righteous tears, and makes both angels and devils take notice. "I'm going to New York City to sing jazz," she brags to anybody who'll listen. But the Big Apple--well, it's an awful long way from that dry patch of earth she'd always called home.
So when the smoky stages of New Orleans speakeasies give a whistle, offering all sorts of shortcuts, Emily Ann soon learns it's the whorehouses and opium dens that can sidetrack a girl and dim a spotlight...and knowing the wrong people can snuff it out.
Jazz Baby just wants to sing--not fight to stay alive. More info →