A happy treat for the holidays

I was celebrating Christmas with my in laws on Sunday when one of my mother-in-law's good friends called her and told her that my book was in the Louisville Courier Journal.  I was surprised, to say the very least.  I hadn't heard anything about it.  I watched as my family dug into the paper to pull out the Arts section.  There was the article, Favorite Reads From Local Book Connoisseurs.  And there was my book, the Parrot Told Me, placed in the same list as Sue Monk Kidd and other esteemed authors.  I just stared at it.  I was so excited, so thrilled to learn that my book had inspired such a wonderful review.  It is such an honor to be given this place on the list, and I am so grateful to all that have supported me, most especially Karen Eldridge.  This was one Christmas gift that I will treasure throughout the year!


Favorite Reads From Local Book Connoisseurs

Writing for Fun

I started writing my story, Talitha, when I was a young mother living in J-Town, on the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky.  Close by my house was a street named Talitha, and although I never knew why, I really liked that name.  I adopted it as the name of a haunted house and started to craft the story.  Fast forward years later.  I have started serious editing of my original novel, beefing up the characters, pouring over the plot, and bringing it more up to date.  And although that may sound kind of boring, I have surprised myself how much I have enjoyed reading the story.  Its October, Halloween is coming, and spooky is in the air.  What better time to read a scary story!  Especially one that you can make as scary as you want it, pull out and put in bits, change characters, challenge characters, and like a grand puppet master, make them all bow to your evil whims.....
Oh, sorry, got a little carried away there.
But in truth, writing can be very fun.  It's like writing a movie in your mind, one that you can start, stop, and alter at any moment.
Take a moment, write a story, and share!
Boo!

So if you met the devil himself. ....

Welcome fabulous author Tony Acree and his best selling book the Hand of God!

http://www.amazon.com/The-Hand-Victor-McCain-Series-ebook/dp/B00GBFZIMS/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1401670199&sr=8-2&keywords=tony+acree

It was 6 p.m. when the Devil walked into my office and had a seat. Now when I say the Devil, I’m not talking figuratively. Lord knows that having spent the last five years as a bounty hunter, I’ve come face to face with every form of evil that walks on this scum-ridden planet: murderers, rapists, even a couple of freakin’ child molesters. So I have more than a passing acquaintance with evil, of both the male and female varieties. But no, in this case, I’m talking in the literal sense. You know, as in Satan, Lucifer, Beelzebub, the goddamned Father of all goddamned Lies. That Devil. You’re probably wondering if he was all red, with horns, a pointed tail and pitchfork. Sorry to disappoint you, but he wasn’t. He looked like any other well-dressed bastard in a snazzy suit and shoes to match. OK, he did have a red tie, but I couldn’t see any tail coming out his ass. He was around six feet tall, blond hair and icy blue eyes. Guess we know where Hitler got his ideas for all that superior race crap. And I bet you’re also wondering just how the hell I knew it was the Fallen Angel himself. I guess it was the same way Moses knew that the burning bush was really God and not just a couple of his buddies lighting the damned thing on fire and then pretending to be God while hiding behind the closest rock laughing. Let’s put it this way, if the Devil walked through your door one day, you won't have any doubts either. Take my word for it. Anyway, I'd had a good week and was just getting ready to leave and lock the place up, looking forward to taking the weekend off from chasing bad guys and heading down to Molly Malone’s, when the

door opened and in waltzed Satan, just as pretty as you please. He pulled up a chair near my desk and sat down flashing a row of pearly whites the Kardashian family would be proud of.

“Victor, you know who I am?” he said, eyebrows all arched and superior, although it was more of a proclamation than a question.

I nodded back and calmly opened the top right drawer of my desk and grabbed my Glock 9 millimeter I keep there in case of emergencies. I figured if this didn't qualify for an emergency then nothing would.

“You know that won’t do you any good,” he said.

He was right. Somehow I knew that. After all, for more than a couple of millennium at a bare minimum, people have wanted to kick Satan’s backside with no success. I just knew it wouldn’t do me any good.

But I pulled the gun out and shot the son-of-a-bitch right between the eyes anyway. Blamo!

A perfect gun powdered entry wound appeared smack dab between his eyes. But I could see no blood and no head explosion out the back, just a big hole and an annoyed look on Satan’s formerly pristine mug. Now you would think that a guy, after being shot in the head, would exhibit some sort of adverse effects, but not this time. And folks, that’s just wrong.

Check out this thriller to see what happens next!