It seems like no one wants to face challenges or work for their dreams, anymore--they just seem to want everything handed to them. That made me wonder, what would have happened if Americans shared that attitude back at the time of the Revolution?

The Boston Tea Party:

“We’re being taxed on that tea without representation! We should dress up as Indians, sneak about the ship, and throw all those crates of tea overboard!”

“Are you kidding? Do you have any idea how much it costs to rent an Indian costume? And that war paint is terrible on my complexion. Besides, those tomahawks are dangerous, and don’t you think it’s insulting to our Native American friends? Why don’t we just write a letter, instead?”

 


The Battle of Lexington and Concord:

“Paul Revere, ride out and warn the Minutemen the British are coming!”

“I’m kind of busy doing engravings right now; are you sure they’re coming?”

“There’s a lantern in the church steeple!”

“I can’t remember if it’s one if by land and two if by sea, or the other way around. I’d hate to make a mistake; can’t you get Samuel Adams to do it?”

“But you’ve got the fastest horse!”

“Upkeep is a killer. She throws a shoe every other day, and it’s a pain taking care of all that leather, and she only gets about three miles to the bale. If I’m going to keep doing this, I’m really going to need some kind of financial assistance.”

 


The Battle of Bunker Hill:

“As long as the ammunition holds out, we can fight the British off for days!”

“Um, about that, sir: We’re out of ammunition.”

“What?”

“Well, the New Jersey guys were supposed to bring some, but they forgot; and the Virginia boys were willing to sell us some, but they wouldn’t take our Massachusetts money; and the Rhode Island guys say theirs all got wet on the way over, because hey--island.”

“But--"

“The New York fellas didn’t think their bullets would be compatible, and the guys from the Carolinas didn’t show up at all. We had supplies still left at Lexington, but Paul Revere wouldn’t lend us his horse.”

“Oh, never mind. I just found out we’re on the wrong hill, anyway. Let’s call it a day and sample some of that beer Sam Adams is so proud of.”

 

Independence Day soldier ad.jpg
Not historically accurate: It should have 50 Continental soldiers and about a thousand British.
 





George Washington:

“George, the Congress wants you to take over the army and beat the British.”

“Say what?”

“Now, I know they’ve got a large, well trained, disciplined, and well supplied army of experienced soldiers, and you’ve got farmers and merchants who’ve never shot at anything bigger than a turkey, but--"

“If you’re trying to convince me, you need to take lessons.”

 


John Paul Jones:

“As you know, Captain Jones, we’re fighting the most powerful navy in the world, and our navy consists of two barrels we borrowed from Sam Adams. Still, we’d like you to take a ship out there and give ‘em a good fight!”

“No way. Sam Adams doesn’t have enough beer in all of Boston to get me that drunk. I’m changing my name to John Paul Smith.”

 


Trenton:

“Dear Diary: We were supposed to cross the Delaware and attack the Hessians today, but we couldn’t get anybody to lend us boats. Then our feet got cold, and besides, we were a little hung over from all that beer Sam Adams sent over on Christmas. Besides, Hessians aren’t even British – what did the Germans ever do to us?”

 
 

Independence Day flag.JPG
There's been a flag on the play.
 




Valley Forge:

“To the Continental Congress: We are suffering under one of the worst winters in history, and we lack clothing, housing, firewood, food, and medical supplies. This is the greatest challenge my army has ever faced.

“I’m going back to Virginia. It’s warm there, and Martha makes a great stew.

“Sincerely, George Washington.”

 


And finally, the Declaration of Independence:

“Um, guys, I really don’t feel up to writing this.”

“But Tom, you’re our best writer!”

“Yeah, but … you want me to put all our causes and reasoning, and justify the first revolution of a British colony ever, in one little document? That would be hard.”

“But you’ve got that neat portable desk, and the copy machine you invented, and a really cool quill pen.”

“My wrist has been hurting. I think I’m getting carpel tunnel.”

“Look, this is important. We’re dedicating our lives, fortunes and sacred honor to this fight.”

“Yeah, about that. Is that such a good idea? I can let go of a little sacred honor, but that life and fortune stuff … I mean, my name would be on this thing.”

“If it makes you feel better, we’ll get John Hancock to sign his name in great big letters, so he’ll be the one they arrest.”

“Hey --!”

“Sorry, John, you wanted to be President of Congress. Come on now, Tom. Do it in
rhyme. We’ll call it the rappin’ revolution, it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t know … don’t you think people will be bothered that a slave owner wrote a declaration of freedom?”

“We’ll call it a declaration of independence. Semantics, Tom! It’s all in the wording.”

“Well, all right … but I’m not paying for all that ink.”

 

Independence Day fireworks.jpg
All the photos I've taken of fireworks, and only one came out.


You're free to find our books here:

·        Amazon:  
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

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·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

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·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

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·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf



Remember: the documents that made us free are worth nothing if no one reads them.

 

 History Press finally matched our upcoming book with its cover! It might not seem like a big deal, but it was a bit unnerving to see Haunted Noble County, Indiana up for preorder everywhere, but without a cover to ... well, cover it.

 


 But wait--there's more. I decided to Google the book so I could give you all the links to it, and discovered Google is now giving AI overviews to anything you search. I can't say I'm thrilled. I'd much rather dig the info up by myself, but I bow to our future computer overlords so, just for fun, here's what artificial intelligence had to say about the book:

 

 


AI Overview
 
"Noble County, Indiana, has its share of ghost stories and haunted locations, including Albion's Rose Hill Cemetery, the Cromwell Library, and the Strand Theatre in Kendallville, according to a local author. A book titled "Haunted Noble County, Indiana" by Mark R. Hunter and Emily Jane Hunter details these and other spooky tales. 
 

 

Specific Haunted Locations:
 

 


 Okay, so a couple of notes. First of all, there is no Haunted Noble County Facebook group. I already have three FB pages: My main one, my author page, and the one for Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights that I never merged into the Mark R. Hunter author page. Plus the page I run for the Albion Fire Department. I never even considered creating a group.

Hm. Maybe a group for all our books?

Second, "theatre"? Is the AI British? That's where "1984" came from, after all.

 Third, "another high hill"? It found all those other details, but couldn't be bothered to identify Diamond Lake Hill? Also, the poem takes place on Sand Hill.

 

Diamond Lake hill, also known as Diamond Hill. See? I found it.


 

Well, any publicity is good publicity, I suppose. Anyway, you can now see the cover and preorder the book at places including:


 

Haunted Noble County, Indiana – Arcadia Publishing

Haunted Noble County, Indiana (Haunted America): Hunter, Mark R., Hunter, Emily Jane: 9781467156066: Amazon.com: Books

Haunted Noble County, Indiana by Mark R. Hunter, Emily Jane Hunter, Paperback | Barnes & Noble®

Haunted Noble County, Indiana - (Haunted America) by Mark R Hunter & Emily Jane Hunter (Paperback) : Target

Haunted Noble County, Indiana - Hunter, Mark R; Hunter, Emily Jane - Dussmann - Das Kulturkaufhaus  (Is this ... German?)

Haunted Noble County, Indiana Book By Mark R Hunter,emily Jane Hunter, (Paperback) | Indigo  (Wait, the cover's not on this one yet.)

Haunted Noble County, Indiana (Haunted America) | Port Book and News

Haunted Noble County, Indiana - Mark R. Hunter, Emily Jane Hunter - häftad (9781467156066) | Adlibris Bokhandel

Results for "Haunted Noble County, Indiana" | Bookmarks | Non-Profit and Independent Bookstore

Haunted Noble County, Indiana / Najlacnejšie knihy (I have no idea where this one's located, but they've decided Emily wrote the book solo.)

Haunted Noble County, Indiana - 三民網路書店  (Um ....?)

Haunted Noble County, Indiana │ 誠品線上 - 閱讀與生活的無盡想像  (More um ...?)

https://www.thriftbooks.com/w/haunted-noble-county-indiana_mark-r-hunter_emily-jane-hunter/54876559

Haunted Noble County, Indiana (Haunted America) (Paperback) | Forever Books 

I kept finding more and it was getting ridiculous, so I gave up. Sometimes I found some of our other books, including some of our self-published ones in places they should never have gotten to, but who am I to complain? 

I assume that, like our book Images of America: Albion and Noble County, the new one will be available in e-book and hardcover. At the moment an audio book isn't in the cards, but don't you want to see the photos? Sure you do.

 


I'm rerunning my blog about hot weather from several years ago because, honestly, it's too hot to write.

  

We had an unusually cool spring, but we noticed a problem during the first heat wave of the year: Our big window air conditioner blew air just fine, but that air wasn't conditioned.

I don't know when the problem actually begun. These things are always found at the worst possible time, like when your furnace breaks down during a blizzard, or your sewer backs up during colonoscopy prep.

And I can't complain, because the air conditioner came with the house--which I bought 35 years ago. In fact, we did an internet search for the model, Sears Coldspot, and learned they stopped making it in the 70s. Our air conditioner survived over forty Indiana summers, and that's remarkable.

I was still in my teens when that thing was made! I wish I'd held up nearly as well.
 

 
One final indignity: The box for the new air conditioner ended up on the old air conditioner.


My house doesn't have central air, or central anything. I suppose we could pump cold water through the hot water radiators and cool the house that way, but ... say, maybe that's something to try. Although the furnace is also over forty years old, so best leave well enough alone.

The air conditioner was set into a window, at one corner of the house, but the thing was huge. It was powerful enough to cool the entire downstairs, as long as you set up three fans to blow the air from room to room, in a windy circle that ended with the kitchen air being pumped right back to the conditioner. If you set it up just right, walking through a room can feel like being Jim Cantore reporting for The Weather Channel.

The upstairs is on its own. We bought a small unit for the bedroom, and left the smaller room upstairs to swelter in the summer. In the winter, the smaller room is used as a backup fridge. Old house problems.

When the downstairs air conditioner, which had its own electrical shutoff and a special plug, stopped cooling the house, Emily went outside and laid her hand against the side of it. Then she came back inside and placed her hand in a stream of cold water until the burning stopped.

 
At least a fire would have taken care of that ugly wallpaper.


Yes, there was definitely something wrong, of the "play Taps at its grave" variety.

Anyone who knows my history will not be surprised to learn I saved up for the next big home repair job. After that, it was a simple process of taking the old air conditioner out and replacing it.

It's usually when the word "simple" appears that we run into trouble.

The old unit had been permanently installed in that #@%& window. It had been screwed, hammered, molded, glued, foam-sprayed, and caulked into place. It was as if in addition to stopping air leaks, they wanted to stop burglaries, alien invasions, and Godzilla.

Eventually we freed it, using two screwdrivers, a hammer, chisel, crowbar, power saw, and two sticks of dynamite. (Luckily it was close enough to Independence Day that nobody noticed the noise.) Preparing to install the new air conditioner, I tried to raise the window further.

The window wouldn't raise. It wouldn't raise because it had been installed at the same time as the air conditioner, and was fitted to its exact specifications.

The new unit did not, of course, meet those specifications. But you knew that.

 
That wrapping on top of the new air conditioner contains ... a remote control. Unless both my legs are broken, I have no idea when I'd use it.


Keep in mind that Emily and I were doing this work on a day when the temperature was 88 degrees (at 6 p.m.) and the humidity was 107%. How this is possible I don't know, but after an hour we looked like we'd stepped into a shower fully clothed. Oddly enough, the dog didn't seem at all bothered by this--if anything, he seemed happy to have a new window to look out of.

When we finished, I left the pried out metal, the hunks of insulation and piles of screws, the broken drill bits, right where they fell, and simply taped over the areas the new unit didn't cover. Then I tried to plug it in.

Which wouldn't work. The new unit didn't have a special plug.

Some things you should check first. Luckily, there was a more normal plug a few feet on the other side; we turned the new unit on and went out to get a pizza while it was working.

No way were we cooking inside that house. I mean, any more than we already had.


·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

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Remember, read with the fan in front of you, so the pages don't blow away.

A small town needs certain things to stay alive. A post office; a gas station; apparently a dollar store, considering they're springing up like Marvel movies. The one strange guy who walks around at night talking/singing to himself. One or two people who loudly complain about everything.

And a grocery store. My home town of Albion lost its grocery store, which isn't a huge deal compared to bigger problems, like the constant threat of the reality TV. Still, ghost towns across the country attest to what happens when a community's base disappears.

Most of us didn't know until after the store closed that the family that ran it for forty-some years were not the same people who owned the building. I didn't, even though I worked there when they took over from the former business owner.

 

I'm the cute one. Okay--I'm the one in the center.
 

 

Rumors ran rampant about what would happen to the former grocery store building. It was originally built by Vikings who wandered into the area around 1021 AD, so many thought the owners might tear it down, replacing it with, say, an airport. The site's right next to the railroad tracks, so no one would even notice the extra noise.

One rumor was that it would become one of those Dollar General Markets, a mini-grocery store where you could also buy everything from clothes to dolls to doll clothes. But there are already two dollar stores in town, built directly beside each other because that makes sense. Granted, they're on the other side of town from the old grocery store, but there's not that much town.

And then: Construction crews moved in and started overhauling the old building, top to bottom.

 

 

It's being done by Amish workers, the best builders in this part of the galactic arm. If you gave them a blueprint they could build a starship, even if their faith prevented them from piloting it.

So what will the new building be?

Nobody knows.

Oh, there are rumors, but for some reason no one involved is willing to tell. It's their choice, of course: It's private property. Still, it's quite the mystery: If you were going to open a business, wouldn't you want people to know what it will be? It's just ... strange.

So I declared on social media that it was going to be a Galactic Empire shooting range. Those storm troopers, they really need the practice. 

 

Maybe if they tried to, I don't know, aim.

 

 I quickly realized this is exactly why the new occupancy is so secret: Because it's secret. So I came up with some possibilities. If you know but can't say, blink your left eye three times.

* Nuclear waste transfer depot. This is where the waste is transferred from truck to train. I mean, the tracks are right there. We might not like the idea now, but I'm sure in no time we'll all be just glowing.

Vice-Presidential Museum. Indiana has produced the second largest number of  U.S. Vice Presidents. Only New York has more, and they've been around for three decades longer. Part of S.R. 9, which runs through Albion, is officially The Highway of the Vice Presidents, as it connects some of their former homes. We're Number Two! 

* Big box store in a little box. Groceries upstairs, clothes in the basement, everything else on the roof. If you catch someone trying to shoplift a power tool, just shove them over the side. This one needs thought: I'll workshop it. 

Experimental indoor farm.  Many towns don't allow farm animals because of the noise, and the smell. If the workers install soundproofing and a filtering system, we may be looking at the future of agriculture. Worried about cows contributing to climate change? No problem: Now all the animal farts are captured, and used to power the indoor field sunlamps.

You know, that started as a joke, but I think I might be on to something.

* CIA regional office. That explains everything. I mean, everything except why it would be in Albion. All I know is, ever since I started writing this there's been a black SUV with tinted windows parked across the street.

Secret archeology site. Who knows what's under the ground there? A mastodon? Prehistoric giant skeletons? Godzilla's smaller cousin, Joezilla? There's a reason why Dr. Jones goes by "Indiana".

And finally:

Nuclear missile silo. Look on the bright side: If WWIII breaks out, we'll be the first to know.

 

I still like our little town.

 

 

Our books, many of them about small town life, area here: 

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

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Remember: Even small town book writers need big city support.

 

  I don’t talk much about politics, but just to show I’ve always paid attention, I uncovered this piece from way back in 2012. I think you’ll find me on the cutting edge of activism:

 

News has come that New York City Mayor Bloomberg wants to ban supersized sugary drinks, as a way to combat malnutrition.

He also signed a proclamation for NYC Donut Day.

Sometimes it just writes itself.

(Oh, another note of irony: I brought up several internet articles to familiarize myself with the Bloomberg Big Belly Ban, and the very first one was preceded by one of those annoying internet ads – for Ben and Jerry’s ice cream.)

The BBBB would apply to any bottled soda or fountain drink over 16 ounces that contains more than 25 calories per eight ounces, which is pretty much all of them. They’d be outlawed at restaurants, sports venues, street vendors, and – brace yourselves – movie theaters. Gasp! Next they’ll be taking my large buttered popcorn.

But those goobers won’t get it without a fight.

No word on whether the 17 ounce Big Gulp will be available in government offices, but grocery stores and convenience stores would be exempt. Apparently large soft drinks sold there are not dangerous.

The good news is, banning things that are bad for us is always effective, and always, always works. Just ask the people who pushed Prohibition.

Well, they can have my Slurpee when they pry it from my cold, sticky hands.

If they criminalize supersized Cokes, only criminals will be truly refreshed.

Family reunions are a great place to exercise my right to choose.

When Bloomberg came for cigarettes, nobody spoke (because they were busy coughing). When he came for trans fats, nobody stood up (because they were too heavy to get to their feet). Now they come for sugary drinks, and who will stand up for Mr. Pibbs? Has the medical field even debated this? Did anyone ask Dr. Pepper?

Give me Mountain Dew, or give me death! And not Diet Mountain Dew, either. It tastes like artificially sweetened sheep dip.

The Founding Fathers would be horrified. The whole reason they settled in the New World is because the British wouldn’t let us sweeten our tea.

“One lump or two?”

“How dare they alter our national beverage? Off with their heads!”

Then we formed an independent country, so we could have southern style sweet tea. Thomas Jefferson wrote that right into the Declaration of Independence, along with a clause about fried chicken and gravy. Both were removed by a rather grumpy New York delegate named Samuel Chase, whose wife had just put him on a diet.

Say, do you suppose that’s it? Maybe Bloomberg’s just steamed because his wife has him eating fish and asparagus.

The Founding Fathers really would be horrified, as this kind of nanny state thinking is exactly what the Constitution was meant to prevent. It demonstrates that their written guide for the country is more relevant now than ever, despite the food stains.

Rumor has it the Founding Fathers fueled their revolutionary ardor with God’s snack: S’Mores.

Benjamin Franklin would be especially upset, as he’s been known to upturn an extra-large mug of mead himself, from time to time. Franklin, who famously said wine is proof that God loves us, and wants to see us happy, would have loved one of those fountain drinks that you need to haul around in a cart. Ben Franklin would have punched Bloomberg right in the nose. Well, maybe not … Ben would probably have slept with Bloomberg’s wife. He was into all sorts of excesses.

I’m not so sure about Thomas Jefferson’s reaction. He believed in personal freedoms (unless you were one of his slaves), but also had a huge vegetable garden that he took great pride in. He grew over 250 varieties of more than 70 different vegetable species, in a garden 1,000 feet long. His children hated him.

Once, Jefferson sent John Adams a sampling of twenty different types of lettuce. Adams wrote back: “Tom, would you relax and have a friggin’ donut? I’ll bet you can’t find twenty different varieties of donuts.” (This was before Krispy Kreme.)

Still, they would have agreed that no mayor of York, old or new, had the right to come over and tell them how many lumps they could put in their tea. Should you stop drinking huge sugary drinks? Of course. Should we bow to a government telling us we have to? Hell, no.

We can’t have true freedom without independence. A nanny state, by definition, is a lack of independence. I may disapprove of what you eat, but I will defend to the early death your right to pork rinds.

Yes, there have to be some limits in an orderly society, but we must draw a jittery line in the sand, with one of those big soda straws. Our voices, strengthened by a sugar rush, should shout out that we can be convinced to be healthier, but not be force fed. And, to paraphrase Franklin Delano Roosevelt, we would rather die on our Frostie than live on our salads.

Now. If you’ll excuse me, it’s time for a little non-violent protest. Supersize me.

Is this a great country, or what?





Find a snack you can eat while web surfing, so you can find us here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

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·        Audible: 
https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf
 Note: If you like happy endings ... you might not want to read to the end of this post.


In a previous blog I detailed my failed attempt to sell a novel to the romance industry's biggest book publisher. The synopsis: They liked my query, asked for the entire manuscript, then disappeared into a publishing black hole from which even emails couldn't escape.

I wish all my snynopsis were that easy. Snynopsis's? Synopsi?

I submitted to a specific line of books within the publisher, but that line's requirements have changed so much my story would no longer be a fit for them, anyway. So, I was free to submit Fire On Mist Creek to a different publisher.

Or to a different line within the same publisher.

No, I'm not insane, hear me out. First, here's the blurb I wrote for the story:


Thanks to insomnia, volunteer firefighter Alice Delaney is Night Watch for the little town of Mist Creek, Kentucky—the entire Night Watch, unless you count the firehouse dog. That’s a break for former Chicago firefighter Reed Carter, who she finds in a broken-down pickup truck near town. Soon after that he returns the favor, by helping her rescue the occupant of a burning house.

 

Both are on the run from their respective demons, but Reed may have found his salvation in the form of a little town in crisis, and a woman dealing with loss. Alice isn’t so sure: Newly promoted to Mist Creek Fire Captain, she’s dealing with a financial crunch and an arsonist. She’s not ready for a relationship with an action junkie who could be taken away from her. Not again.

 

 

I had to research firefighting, of course.

 

 

It's a work of staggering genius. Not the book, the blurb: I boiled that down from 60,000 words! Blurbs and synopsi ... sss, are the bane of book writers.

On a related note, the novel was 60,000 words. The Big Publisher had another line that would be absolutely perfect for this book, assuming they didn't change the line's requirements before I got it to them. There was only one small glitch: That line wants stories in the 70,000 word range. Maybe not exactly, but a 10,000 word difference is a deal killer.

Now, there are other publishers I could submit Fire On Mist Creek to. Still, I wanted to work with this publisher, I said stubbornly, in a rather whiny voice. But add 10,000 words to a story I thought was finished?

I found my answer in another dumb thing I did, which is where I find many of my answers. During the almost five years waiting to hear back after they requested my manuscript, I wrote other books. I wasn't just pacing in the back yard. Imagine all the dead grass.

 

Hundreds of books! Thousands of books! Okay, eleven.

 

 

Two of those books are set in that same small town, Mist Creek. Okay, one starts out elsewhere and ends up in Mist Creek. The point is, if I couldn't find a publisher that's interested in all the books, I may have wasted a lot of writing time.

But in my haste, I found the answer to my length problem. Many characters from Fire on Mist Creek show up in the other two novels, but a lot of characters from those two books didn't even exist when I wrote the first one.

And that's when I felt a great swell of inspiration, or maybe more stupidity.

If it's going to be a series, more of the people from the other books should be introduced in the first. In fact, it would be easy, because some of those later people are involved Mist Creek's emergency services. They'd naturally be around each other, anyway. In the other two books there's only one other new arrival; the other characters are already town residents.

Since the story is set before the others, I could put them in without having to refer to the other two books and confuse everyone. Sure, I'm confused, but if I could straighten myself out everyone else will be fine. Even as I mused over the idea, new scenes came to me that would enrich the story and also play into the main plot.

(Update, because I didn't post this right away: So that's what I did. The rewrite is finished, and the new story sent!)*

 

 

I have an office, and I'm ready to write! Once I find my laptop.

 

 

told you it's genius. It's such a great idea, I'm pretty sure aliens showed up one night and inserted it into my, um, body. That would explain the tiny piece of metal in my chest. Even if I end up with another publisher, the book will be better. Hold my beer, I'm writing!

(Okay, I don't drink beer, but leave my tea alone--it's still hot, just like my typing fingers.)


*Okay, here's the bad news. All this was in the past: I submitted the book to Harlequin Heartwarming on April 6. The Publisher Who I Just Named, aware of how long they strung me along last time, sent me on a response on May 16, a blistering speed for a traditional publisher.

It was a form rejection. So, we move on.


You can find the books that did somehow make it to publication here:

 

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 

 

 

Remember, writers need all the support they can get.

 

 

 Is it just me, or has Mother Nature been, this year ... grouchy?

Surly? Cross? Cantankerous?

Yeah, I thought so, too. Maybe we brought it on ourselves, the way everyone has been storming at each other. That makes this a perfect time for a ... song.

Hey, we all need a peaceful moment. It's been a particularly awful weather year; for some more than others, but mostly for everyone. The other day I had to stop picking up wind-blown branches because of frostbite. (I shut off our furnace exactly two days before the--wait for it--polar vortex reached us.)

It's not a great song, but I'm not a great song writer. I heard the music in my head while writing the words (It has a country vibe). But I can't play it for you because I can't write music, and it probably won't work as well as a poem. Maybe it's for the best, though, because I'm also not a great music writer. Or ... any music writer. What the heck, I'll throw in a few photos from the storm outbreak, too. Once it got cold, my hands wouldn't stop shaking enough to get a good picture.

See those little black spots in the sky? Birds. Really dumb vultures, I think, battling a headwind.



I should hold a contest: If I sell fifty books by the end of June, I'll post a video of me singing this. But that might lead to negative sales. "For Heaven's sake, don't sing! I'm sending your books back to you."

I call it: Springing Out of Springdom.

(I'm not a great title writer, either.)





I like to ride in the countryside
just to take in spring.
The flower blossoms, birds at play
and all the greening things.

But this year I've come to realize
something that's made me sad.
We won't get a spring this year
'cause we've all been too bad.

Yeah, we've all been too bad this year,
we just can't get along.
We fight and fuss and disagree
Even as the days get long.

Mother Nature said "Screw you!"
"I'll just evaporate."
So winter just won't end this year;
she left us to our fate.

So now the temp's below average
just like all our moods.
Plants are brown and grass is dead,
let's face it--we're all screwed.

Our tulips won't come up this year,
They're underneath a drift.
The robins are hitchhiking south,
their frozen wings won't lift.




Yes, we've all been too bad this year,
we don't deserve the spring.
Mosquitoes can't come out in this,
it's frostbite that'll sting.

Mother Nature said "Stuff it!"
and left us all to freeze.
so winter just won't end this year,
no flowers, birds, or bees.

So let's all try to get along,
we just don't have to fight.
At this rate our nice summer
will become a year long night.

It's not that we all must be friends,
but hatred hurts our souls.
If we don't make up by Christmas
At least we can heat with coals.

True, we've all been too bad this year,
and spring will never come
if we don't get our butts in gear
and stop being so dumb.

Mother nature said "I'm done!"
and winter's staying strong.
So dig back out your salt and plows ...
or try to get along.







As long as the internet hasn't blown away, we can be found all over:

 

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 

 

Remember: Books can be taken with you into a storm shelter.


  (Note: This is the OFFICIAL announcement. You can tell by the officious way I typed it. Ignore the previous mentions.)


 As you've almost certainly already heard, we have a "new" book out, plus a really new book up for preorder. Considering what a crappy year it's been so far, I'd say that's reason to celebrate.

At least a little "yahoo!" and a chocolate cake.

After getting the rights back from the original publisher, we've been trying to independently publish The Notorious Ian Grant for ... well, the first thing that stopped it was COVID. No, that was late 2023 for Emily and me, wasn't it? I don't remember what the first thing was, but the theme continued: illness, injury, death--generally, the 2020s.

So when I got this preview copy in the mail, it felt like reaching the peak of Mount Everest:

Your thumb may vary.


Not quite the summit, because Emily had to make some corrections, then get it up and running as an e-book. It'll be on Kindle Direct Publishing for 90 days, then go into wider distribution for those of you who would like to get it elsewhere. The print version went up just a few days ago. But the old version is also still listed, so for our improved edition, go here:

Meanwhile its "parent" book, Storm Chaser, is getting a price reduction in both ebook and print, as part of my cunning plan to get people hooked on the first book so they have to get the rest. You can find Storm Chaser here:

And from there you can click on the author's name (me, I'm the author) for the related books in the Storm Chaser series, Storm Squalls and The No-Campfire Girls, and our other books.

Another meanwhile, a few weeks ago I was surfing the internet and stumbled across ...

Okay, fine, I was Googling myself. And no, I don't have a Wikipedia page. Anyway, I discovered Haunted Noble County, Indiana, which I talked about a lot last year, is up for preorder on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Other places, too. This being traditional publishing, the official cover isn't up yet, although last week I finally got a look at it.




A week after that I got an email from my publisher, letting us know Haunted Noble County, Indiana, would be officially published on August 12th of this year. They still haven't told us it's up for preorder. I mentioned it's traditionally published, right?

You can preorder it on our Amazon page, or here:


Haunted Noble County, Indiana by Mark R. Hunter; Emily Jane Hunter
(Where the heck is Books a Million?)

I think it all boils down to Arcadia Publishing, which History Press is part of, having a very good distribution system.

More information--naturally--as the year goes on, assuming there are no illnesses, injuries, or accidents.




 

 

 You can track down us or, more importantly, our books, here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 

 

 

 Remember: You can't judge a book by its cover until it gets a cover.


 I wrote this several years ago, so no, don't go looking for Fred.

 

 


Some of you may have seen a shoe perched majestically at the top of the hill in my front yard. If not, I’m enclosing a picture as an introduction. We named it Fred. Say hello to the people, Fred.
 
(He can't speak, even though he has a tongue.)

Yes, I know what you’re thinking. “You named a shoe?” Well, why not? We always name the strays that end up hanging around our house. Last fall we named the mice that set up housekeeping there, even as I tracked them down and did a Dirty Harry on their rodent rears.

One day I got home and Fred was simply – there. I live on a main street, and lots of young people (read: litterers) go by, so a certain amount of trash is expected. My neighbors have been doing renovations, and whenever a stiff wind pops up some of their waiting to be disposed of debris will take up shop around my house. Just a few days ago I found the remains of a light bulb scattered across my porch. Who knows about that? Maybe somebody had an earth-shattering idea.

But a shoe?
 
I have a theory about how that shoe could have gotten blown into my yard.



That’s not an object easily blown around, especially to land at the top of an embankment. No, it had to have been thrown there. If so, it was an exceptionally artistic throw, as the shoe landed upright, proudly showing to passers-by that it was high-strung.

I’m generally annoyed at litter, but in this case I confess to being rather bemused. So bemused, in fact, that I left the footwear there, wondering if the owner might show up to claim it. Maybe it was tossed there by some clownish “friend” who thought it would be funny to see his buddy stumping around in one shoe. What a heel.

But no one claimed the poor little orphan, so I felt I had to name him, and picked Fred out of thin air. How do I know it’s a male shoe? How many girls do you know who would throw away a perfectly good shoe? I rest my case.
 
Some girls even pick shoes right off of dead people.



Later I told my daughter that Fred could stay until lawn mowing time, and she informed me in turn that I could simply mow around it. How, she asked, could I just boot Fred? I thought she was going to sock me. (Get it?) Her passion left me tongue-tied. (Get that one?) I appreciated her sole-searching, but couldn’t build Fred his own closet -- not on my shoestring budget. (Okay, that’s enough.)

For now, Fred stays. Maybe his other half will show up, and they’ll get off on the right foot with some other owner. Hm. Come to think of it, I wonder if they’re elevens?
 
 
Oh! I just made this connection. Brought to you by: Fred Toenges Footwear.*


Pay for my future footwear here:
 

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 
 
*Not really, but if they want to talk about a sponsorship ....
 



Oh, did you make it to the bottom? Then you get first look:

 
Haunted Noble County cover.png
 I got an email the other day about a new book that's out:

 

Thanks for letting me know! I do know the author, but I didn't know I followed me.

Other than covering it in the newsletter, I haven't even made a public announcement that the newly rereleased The Notorious Ian Grant is out, yet. Maybe next week, if the print version is ready.

Then, the other other day, I was perusing the internet when I stumbled across this:
 


If you look closely you'll see Hoosier Hysterical is for sale used, on eBay. The print edition goes for ten bucks new; I went over to eBay and some of the used copies were priced at almost twice what they are new. I saw a "new" copy available--from Germany--for $24.88 ... PLUS shipping.

It just goes to show, you gotta shop around.

Or you could just follow our buy links:

 
 
I'm okay with our already-sold books being passed around--it's nice to gain readers. On the other hand, if you go to our links and buy new, we get a little of the money. I'm okay with that, too. (And no, I had nothing to do with any of these ads ... I mean, as far as I know.)


Facebook Wal-Mart Coming Attractions.jpg


 Our editor just sent the edits back for Haunted Noble County, Indiana, along with a VERY tight deadline for getting them done. So you won't be hearing much from us for a week or so.

That being the case, I'm interrupting your regular blog so you can check out the news over on our newsletter, which you'll find here:

The Notorious Ian Grant released, Haunted Noble County on preorder, Storm Chaser price cut! 

Long story short: Haunted Noble County, Indiana is up for preorder now with an August 12 release date; we cut the ebook price for Storm Chaser from $1.50 to 99 cents; and we're rolling out the rerelease of Storm Chaser's sequel, The Notorious Ian Grant. It's out as an ebook, and will hopefully be available on print and audio soon.

Okay, it wasn't that short. But there are more details in the newsletter. I'm off to edit--wish my chronic back pain away, please.

Ian Grant Cover Small.jpg



Support your local author! And editor. If you have time.

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter
·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914
·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember, a lot of work goes into making a good book, so keep buying.

 

We got a new radio system in our dispatch center, and the guy training us on it claimed we could use it at home, on a laptop.

This is a great idea in theory: It would save me gas, and clothes would be cheaper if all I had to buy was pajamas. Of course, video 911 is coming, and callers might not be comfortable with my Star Trek onesie.

Actually, callers might not like seeing me no matter what clothes I'm wearing.

"You got what stuck WHERE?"

This is my thirtieth year celebrating Public Safety Telecommunications Week, which is in April between the snow storms, brush fires, and tornadoes. Since the title's so long, I started calling it PSTW, which is kind of ironic because PSTW sounds a lot like PTSD. Everyone who's dispatched longer than seven years gets to know both. It's science.

Here's the strange thing: I'm burned out on this job. Once too often I've picked up the 911 line only to hear hysterical screaming. Once too often I was the last person someone ever talked to. Once too often the name of a victim or suspect ended up being someone I knew.

Yet it's still the best full time job I ever had.

 

I actually do wear a cape, but only at home when no one is watching. But yay, cookie! Better keep it away from the dog.
 

Maybe it's because we're actually doing something important. That's a weird thing to define when it comes to jobs, because the best paying ones often are the least important. When a family member is having a heart attack, you don't call your favorite sportsball player for an ambulance. For that matter, when your water pipe bursts you don't look up the number for Beyonce, or Reba McEntire. (Actually, Reba could probably help.)

But that's the way it goes, and at least I've never been stalked by a 911 groupie.

 

I know the artist!
 

 

If you've considered being a dispatcher, I'd encourage it. It's way more important than being a security guard at the Oscars. Also, you have to be bad at it to lose your job--the demand for dispatchers just continues to go up.

Still, it can be just a bit stressful. When I'm talking to new people, I like to give them a few tips they don't get in formal training:

No matter what the caller says when you pick up the line, never reply with "You gotta be kidding me."

Always know if you have a live mic. Always.

Try to avoid cursing in dispatch--see above about live mics.

Well ... at least try not to curse too much.

If you have to scream in the bathroom, turn the water on first.

 

 

Yes, you are a first responder. When 911 rings, you're the first to respond to whatever the problem is. All the others have the advantage of knowing that problem, because you find out.

Hold your temper if your 911 caller starts with, "This isn't actually an emergency ..." Deal with it if the business line rings and it is an emergency. So it goes.

If you have to bang your head against a wall, choose a different place each time, to avoid damage to the concrete.

And finally: If the melatonin gives you nightmares, try sleepytime tea. Sleep is precious.

On a related note, that idea of dispatching on a laptop from home? No. I already have dreams in which I come downstairs and find the dispatch center has been moved to my living room, and I'm the only dispatcher. Besides, I like my Star Trek onesie, and Star Wars pajama bottoms just wouldn't be the same.

 



 



Buy some books, just in case of an emergency:


·        Amazon:  
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf



The odds of having to dial 911 are much lower when you're home reading.
ozma914: (Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights)
( Apr. 11th, 2025 07:18 am)

We're close to the anniversary of one of the most famous disasters in American history. No, I’m not talking about the birth of Kanye West. I’m speaking of the Great San Francisco Earthquake and Fire, which struck at 5:13 a.m. on April 18, 1906.

Which was way too early to be waked up that way, or any way.

We seem to be in the age of disasters, so it might be worth remembering that bad things have been happening to good people for a long time, not just since the Kardashians went on the air. One thing that remains the same is human nature: No one wants to think about disasters until they happen, and then their primary mission is to avoid responsibility. This is followed by a building period of forgetfulness, and then the cycle begins anew.

"Gesundheit."


Just as the Great Chicago Fire was accompanied by forest fires that killed thousands in the Midwest, and Hurricane Katrina devastated areas far from New Orleans, the 1906 quake shook up much more than San Francisco. In fact, it was felt from Oregon to Los Angeles, and as far east as Nevada. Two minor earthquakes even hit Las Angeles at about noon that day, probably caused by the earlier shaking. A line of trees two hundred feet wide were smashed along the fault line; small towns along the way were flattened, and any building actually built on the fault found itself at fault.

At least 3,000 people died, and a half million dollars in damage resulted – 1906 dollars. It was … well, it was a disaster.

Many people don’t know that most of San Francisco was not flattened by the earthquake; it was destroyed by the fire that followed.

A rattled homeowner, glad to be alive, got hungry after the earthquake and decided to cook up some ham and eggs, without bothering to check on whether their home’s chimney had been damaged. The resulting blaze, called the “Ham and Egg” fire (naturally), later joined up with other fires to destroy most of the city. Whether that resident actually got to eat the ham and eggs wasn’t reported.

"Pass the orange juice."


So, where the heck was the fire department?

Well, Station #4 wasn’t there anymore: A hotel collapsed on it. The Chief of the San Francisco Fire Department, Dennis T. Sullivan, threw himself out of bed and dashed through the door of his quarters, which was located at the top of another firehouse on Bush Street. (No relation to G.W.)

Unfortunately, the dome of a theater next door had just brought down the rest of the Chief’s fire station, and he dashed into mid-air. He died later that week, leaving the SFFD without its leader.

But Chief Sullivan had built a good department, and the men and equipment still standing dashed into action. Sullivan had recommended the building of a special water system, which could provide water from San Francisco Bay in case an earthquake sheared through regular water mains.

Unfortunately, the City Council refused to fund the system. The regular mains were, indeed, shattered, leaving most of the city dry. U.S. Navy personnel, always ready to help, laid a long fire hose from the bay and put it into action. But the tactics of operating a fire hose aren’t as easy as they appear, and the hapless sailors were outmaneuvered by the flames. They had to retreat, leaving the hose behind.

Steam fire engines generated almost as much smoke as the fires.


That morning a telegraph station in San Diego sent reports of the disaster to the ship “U.S.S. Chicago”, which immediately steamed for San Francisco. It was the first time a wireless transmission was ever used during a disaster. Later the fire alarm and telegraph offices in the city had to be abandoned to the approaching flames, making communications more difficult. It became impossible to coordinate firefighting efforts.

By that time word had gotten out, and Secretary of War Taft ordered all available relief supplies and military units to San Francisco. He later became president, so Taft must have done an okay job.

Less helpful individuals began looting the city, and the Mayor declared open season on such lowlifes. Several were shot; none were missed.

Eventually, with the assistance of volunteers, firefighters, military personnel, and demolition of buildings to create fire breaks, the blaze was controlled. It was time to take stock, and to determine what to do to prevent such a calamity in the future.

No need, according to Father Ricard of the University of Santa Clara, who wrote to a newspaper: “Never mind foreboders of evil: They do not know what they are talking about … those who venture out with predictions of future earthquakes when the main shock has taken place ought to be arrested as disturbers of the peace.”

In other words, don't worry – it won't happen again.

San Francisco City Hall has looked better.


What have we learned from this?

Well, be careful before running through doorways after an earthquake, of course. Good communications are vital. You can’t put out a fire without water. Shooting looters is worth a bullet. Courage alone doesn’t make up for a lack of training and preparation. Don’t cook breakfast until after you’ve started your brain up in the morning.

Finally, and most importantly: Hiding from reality doesn’t prevent anything except being prepared. If somebody tells you “It won’t happen here”, hit them. Preferably in the mouth, so they don’t keep spouting nonsense.

Because it could happen tomorrow.



Some of our books cover fires and disasters, and others are just escapism:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf


R
emember: In a disaster books might be the only entertainment left.
 As part of some Big Stuff coming down the pike, we've reduced the ebook price of Storm Chaser to .99 cents. That's just one cup of coffee, if you're still in the 20th century! I guess you'd have to buy several to match the cost of a Starbucks grande moff vanilla triple entente Xstream latte.
For now it's in the Kindle Store here:
You can also get it on audiobook for .99 cents if you're a member, or even zero if you're a member of Audible:
(Remember, the audiobook is done by virtual voice. If you don't like that, you might like to pass, or donate money for me to pay for a narrator.)

78909-10.jpg

The black funnel of an approaching tornado makes all other troubles seem small. But when Indiana State Trooper Chance Hamlin "rescues" Allie Craine from a twister, his troubles are just beginning. Allie, a disaster photographer, rescues him when he drives into the storm's path.
Chance doesn't like being rescued. He also doesn't like photographers, and he definitely doesn't like being stuck with Allie when she wants to stay in calm, peaceful, Indiana.
Too bad his family, friends, and even coworkers think she’s great. Suspicious of Allie’s motives, he decides to drive her away out of sheer boredom—but that’s not so easy when someone begins causing fires and other catastrophes around the area. That someone might be Allie, who has plans of her own ...



You can read our books here:


·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf



Reading about storms is way more fun than experiencing them.
ozma914: Haunted Noble County Indiana (Default)
( Apr. 3rd, 2025 04:04 am)
 I was eleven, and home alone while my brother visited with the neighbors. I didn't mind at all: I was what today would be called an introvert. I had my plastic Thompson machine gun and my khaki shirt with the sergeant stripes on it, and I was ready to shoot bad guys.

I was busy killing Nazis when everything became perfectly still. Not a bird chirp, not a breath of wind. The light around me turned a strange green. Kind of like the olive-colored kitchen appliances that used to be so popular, and please don't build those again.

Everything seemed to almost glow from within. It was enough to make me forget Sgt. Rock and just stand there, gazing upward.

And that was it. The light turned normal again, and I headed into the barn to back up The Haunted Tank. We lived out in the country where we couldn't hear sirens, the TV was turned off, and portable alert devices were things I saw on Star Trek.

It was part of the 1974 Super Outbreak, one of the worst tornado outbreaks in history. 148 tornadoes rampaged across 13 states, killing 330 people. The one that came so close to me was an EF3, and it killed three people, injuring 38 more.

Somehow, I didn't find out until years later that a tornado has passed two miles from where I stood. 

The March 30 storm damaged the roofs of two Noble County Highway buildings, less than a mile from our home.


Maybe not knowing is why I became fascinated with the sky, but never developed a fear of storms. I'm one of those morons who would be out in the back yard, scanning the sky, while sane folks huddled in the basement.

Being a volunteer firefighter and storm spotter gave me an excuse, but didn't make me any smarter.

 


What hit us in Albion this time was a straight-line wind event. The only confirmed tornado in Noble County on June 30 was an EF-1 that took out several buildings on a path north of Churubusco, and west of LaOtto. Its path is the green line on this map. Straight line winds can be just as damaging, of course, but don't get the press of a photogenic twister.

 

Either way, having the tornado sirens go off while you're standing in the shower is definitely attention grabbing.

I dressed in the basement, and the worst of it seemed to be over when I dashed through the rain to work. But it wasn't, for me: I work in the Noble County 911 center. There are normally two or three of us there. I arrived half an hour early and found one of my shift partners already there. Including a trainee, there were five of us, then six, and we were overwhelmed.

Our power went out twice; our radio system stopped working once; our business phone lines stayed down all night, leaving us with one backup cell phone. (Honestly, we used our own a lot.) Meanwhile, every fire department and every on-duty officer in the county raced from place to place, checking on damage and downed utility lines, clearing trees, and keeping their eyes on the skies. Between 4:40 and 8 p.m. we entered 76 calls, almost all for storm damage.

No injuries. The very definition of it could be worse.

I actually took this a few days earlier, but you get the idea.


In bordering LaGrange County the storm flipped an Amish buggy, killing one man. Meanwhile, not far to the north, an ice storm flattened northern lower Michigan. On the other end of the storm system ... a blizzard.

As I write this, we've just had still another tornado warning, thankfully short lived, and a tornado outbreak to the south and west of us ... and east, now that I've had time to check the weather channels.

I told someone over winter that I had a feeling this would be a bad weather year. Wish I remembered who, so I could say I told you so. But I'd rather be wrong.

This is another photo I took a few days earlier, right after a thunderstorm. I like this better.



You can read our books here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf



Lately it's been much better to stay inside and read.


Do you remember those memes from years back, when you put your name in and it gave silly answers to your life, future, who would rescue you in the zombie apocalypse, stuff like that?

No? Well, in social media time it was a century ago, so whatever. Anyway, I re-found this one recently: a purported list of outrageous facts about ... me. I generated it back about, oh ... well, it's not important how long ago, never mind.

 

About 100 people choke to death on Mark Hunter each year.     (Hey, watch it with the dirty jokes.)

Mark Hunter can use only about ten percent of his brain!     (Thinking hard is, like ... hard.)

Mark Hunter once lost a Dolly Parton lookalike contest.     (So sue me, I own only so many pillows.)

The only planet that rotates on its side is Mark Hunter!     (Maybe so, but at least I don't have a ring like Uranus.)

Mark Hunter can only be destroyed by intense heat, and is impermeable even to acid.     (Thank goodness no one has thought to try heated acid.)

99 percent of the pumpkins sold in the US end up as Mark Hunter.     (That, or Uranus.)

During World War II, Americans tried to train Mark Hunter to drop bombs!     (Then they found out about my notorious sense of direction.)

Long ago, the people of Nicaragua believed that if they threw Mark Hunter into a volcano it would stop erupting.     (Obviously they never heard about the intense heat thing.)

Baskin Robbins once made Mark Hunter flavored ice cream!     (It tasted like desperation and low self-esteem.)

Moles are able to tunnel through 300 feet of Mark Hunter in a day.     (The only way to stop them is to rotate on my side.)


See, wasn't that fun? I tried another one to see where I was on the political spectrum, but ... that wasn't fun at all.

 

 Another fun fact: Mark Hunter's beard is Velcro to cat fur. 



The fact is, you can get our books and read more about us here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
·        Barnes & Noble:  
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
·        Goodreads:  
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
·        Blog: 
https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
·        Website: 
http://www.markrhunter.com/
·        Instagram: 
https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
·        Facebook: 
https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
·        Linkedin: 
https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
·        Twitter: 
https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
·        Youtube: 
https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
·        Substack:  
https://substack.com/@markrhunter
·        Tumblr:  
https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
·        Smashwords:  
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914
·        Audible:  
https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember, every time you read a book, you learn something new. Sometimes it's even something useful.


  Okay, so, let's say--hypothetically--that I was getting ready to work on a sequel to Hoosier Hysterical: How the West Became the Midwest, Without Moving at All.


If you've read Hoosier Hysterical ("and why not?" he said sternly), you know it's a humor book about Indiana history and trivia. People seem to like it, but my first though on a sequel was, "What do I do next?" I covered history. I covered a lot of trivia, too, although not all by any means.

So eventually the idea I came up with was a book about two things: The people who came here and/or started here and made their fame elsewhere, and the special little places that make the Hoosier State so ... weird.

You can bet Emily and I are going to visit the Uranus Fudge Factory in Richmond, for instance. I predict the puns will hit the fan.



So here's what I need from you. I mean, other than book reviews, word of mouth, and sales. I need you to tell me what little, out of the way attraction and/or person of note you'd like us to cover in our book, which I called Hoosier Hysterical-er until Emily told me no.

I can't guarantee we'll fit them all in, and I can't guarantee we'll be able to visit all of them, but we'll surely try. (If we end up with enough material, it might be divided into two books.) We'll also try not to repeat ourselves, so if we already covered something in detail in the first book, it's not likely to show up in the second.

So what do you want to hear about? The world's largest ball of paint? Orville Redenbacher? Orville Wright, and/or his brother? Elvis' hair? There's more than corn in Indiana.

Although there's corn, too. Just ask Orville Redenbacher.



Almost all of our books are related to Indiana, and you can find them here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
·        Barnes & Noble:  
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
·        Goodreads:  
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
·        Blog: 
https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
·        Website: 
http://www.markrhunter.com/
·        Instagram: 
https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
·        Facebook: 
https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
·        Linkedin: 
https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
·        Twitter: 
https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
·        Youtube: 
https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
·        Substack:  
https://substack.com/@markrhunter
·        Tumblr:  
https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
·        Smashwords:  
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914
·        Audible:  
https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf


 

Remember: Books about Indiana are as sweet as sugar cream pie, but without the calories. Unless you eat them. Don't eat them.

 

  Some time ago, I was ghosted by one of the biggest publishers in the business.

Or maybe not. What do I know?

I submitted a romantic comedy novel to a publisher that has a name similar to one of Batman's villains. There, that won't give it away.

 

Some people differ on how author-friendly the publisher is, but ever since I started writing romance, I've wanted to write for them. That would be sometime in the early 90s. Before that I was writing science fiction and action/adventure, which I still am, and there I'm still having the same publishing luck.

But by then I had a track record of published novels. I also had a great story with a good title, "Fire On Mist Creek". Or a good story with a great title. I think it's a great title. Is it? It doesn't matter, because Harl--the publisher usually changes the name before publication, anyway.

(And they'd also change my name to a more feminine one, which I don't have a problem with. Maxine Hunter? No? Okay.)

I sent off a query letter, an outline, and the first few chapters of the story in--wait for it--2018. ("Wait for it" is practically the theme of this story.)

Just two months later, which is five hours in publishing time, an editor wrote back and requested a full manuscript! This is a Big Deal. The average traditional publisher receives so many queries that if they aren't occasionally rejected by the dump truck load, they collapse the building.

Then I heard nothing.

For years.

 

"And this is when I stopped hearing from them."

 

 

I sent a "nudge" a year later, and another one two years after that. Nudges are when desperate writers, who at this point want ANY news, gently ask for such news while groveling as much as possible. After the second nudge, I finally got a reply.

They'd lost my manuscript.

So they asked for it again, in early 2021, and I was happy to oblige. A little over a year later, I sent another nudge. And another. I don't feel like going back to count, but I sent several.

I went back to count: It was four. No one wants to annoy an editor, but I started including other people from that particular line, assistant editors and such. By the time I gave up, I'd shotgunned about six different people in my pleas, which had turned from "Like me!" into "At least put me out of my misery!"

When a writer is waiting to hear back on a book submission, the best thing they can do is work on another book. This I did, but there was a thriller-level twist: As I plotted it out, I realized it could easily fit into the Mist Creek world I'd developed. I a huge fan of series. Serieses. Seriez? Serii? Anyway, my Storm Chaser series is a series. That's why I call it a series. So I wove this one into the Mist Creek community.

Then, the next year, my wintertime depression was hitting me pretty good, so I decided to cheer myself up by writing a Christmas romance. Set in Mist Creek. So I did.

So now, with the first book having not sold, I have a series. Most romance publishers love a good series, but they prefer to approve the books individually.

By then I learned something that Harl--the publisher had done that rendered the entire question a moo point.

 

Maybe it's moot. Anyway, they had changed the requirements for that particular line. Not only did my manuscript no longer fit the description of what they wanted, but it was now 10,000 words too short. They were now also no longer accepting unagented submissions, which is what mine was.

So, I sent them--all of them--an email withdrawing my manuscript. It had been five years.

Was I ghosted? Was it some horrible mishap in which they changed their email provider and mine all got lost in the shuffle? Was it me being male, instead of female? Did I accidentally send my correspondence to a publisher in another dimension, and we'd gone out of phase?

Beats me, and boy, did I feel beaten. But, giving the benefit of the doubt, my withdrawal email was nice and polite, as I tried to keep all my emails. It pays to be nice, and maybe someday they'll answer it.

Besides ... they have other lines open for submission.




You can read our books, romantic or not, here:


·        Amazon:  
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
·        Barnes & Noble:  
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
·        Goodreads:  
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
·        Blog: 
https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
·        Website: 
http://www.markrhunter.com/
·        Instagram: 
https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
·        Facebook: 
https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
·        Linkedin: 
https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
·        Twitter: 
https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
·        Youtube: 
https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
·        Substack:  
https://substack.com/@markrhunter
·        Tumblr:  
https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
·        Smashwords:  
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914
·        Audible:  
https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

Remember, every time you buy a book from a local author, Big Publishing quakes in its leather-bound boots.

 

 I know it may seem like I already posted a version of this a few years ago, but ... maybe it just blew by again.

severe weather cow.webp
Cow.




            I complain about winter weather a lot, so maybe it's time to complain about something else:
 
            Spring weather.
 
            Yes, spring arrived, kind of, at least temporarily. We had snow over the weekend, grass fires today, and the promise of thunderstorms in Indiana this week. The weather people are talking about a bomb cyclone west of us that could drop the barometric pressure so low it equals a category 2 hurricane. Right now that same area is under a red flag fire warning.
 
            Also, notice the winter storm warnings in California.
 
            In a Hoosier spring we often have a traditional ice storm during basketball playoffs. It's actually possible to have an ice/fire tornado, if the conditions are right. I mean, wrong.
 
            So it comes as no surprise that the Governor was delayed by snow drifts on his way to declare March 9 through 15 Severe Weather Preparedness Week. I’d have done it myself if security hadn’t kicked me out of his office.
 
            As part of the celebration … er … observation, the State of Indiana educates, conducts alert system tests, and otherwise tries to keep people from getting killed. Honestly, nothing brings down a wonderful spring day like death.
 
 
Severe weather evening.jpg
 
            I thought I'd help out despite the Governor's restraining order, so let me explain what watch and warning levels and storm terms are:
 
            A Watch means you can stay at your cookout, gaze at the blue sky and make fun of the weatherman right up until the first wind gust blows away your “kiss the cook” hat.
 
            A Warning means that if you haven’t sought shelter, you will die.
 
            A Funnel Cloud should not be mistaken for a funnel cake, which generally kills only one person at a time. Funnel clouds are just tornadoes that haven’t touched the ground; maybe they will, maybe they won’t. If you want to gamble, go to Vegas. Just to make it more fun, sometimes tornadoes reach the ground and start tearing things up even though the bottom part is still invisible. You could be looking at a “funnel cloud” right up until the moment your mobile home changes zip codes.
 
Severe weather funnel cloud.jpg
A funnel cloud in Dekalb County, Indiana. No, I wasn't going to get any closer.

 
 
            A Tornado is really, really bad.
 
            Straight Line Winds can cause as much damage as tornadoes, but aren’t associated with rotation. You can often tell the damage path of these winds by the people standing in the debris, insisting it was a tornado.
 
            A Squall Line is what happens when I forget my wedding anniversary.
 
            Thunderstorms are storms that produce thunder. See what I did, there?
 
            Lighting kills more people than tornadoes, but of course tornadoes are more fun … um … attention grabbing. Tornadoes are like people (okay, men) who get drunk and try to jump motorcycles over sheds using homemade ramps: They’re senseless, spectacular, injury rates are high, and nothing good results except to remind people they’re bad.
 
            Just the same, lightning is also no fun, and can strike miles from where you think the storm is. Of people struck by lightning, 70% suffered serious long-term effects, 10% are permanently killed, and 20% don’t admit being hurt, or didn’t hear the question.
 
            The average forward speed of a tornado is 30 mph, but they can travel up to 70 mph … or remain motionless, which is really unfortunate if you happen to be under one at the time.
 
            The average width of the funnel on the ground is about 100 yards. And, like a flatulent Godzilla, that doesn’t include the wind damage around it. Some can get over a mile wide. (Tornadoes, I mean, not gassy Godzillas.) If you think about it, trying to outrun a 70 mph, mile wide tornado in a car is about as smart as trying to jump a shed from a homemade ramp after your tenth beer.
 
            Tornadoes are most likely from April to June, which means pretty much nothing these days. The last time I took an airplane flight it was delayed by a tornado—in November.
 
So, when do you need to prepare for severe weather? Anytime. Remember, no matter what the season, it only takes a few beers to start building a ramp.
 
 
 
 
Severe weather morning.jpg
 

 
You can read our storm related books, and the other ones, here:


·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter
·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914
·        Audible:  https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 
Remember, every time you buy a book, Godzilla rolls over and goes back to sleep. Save Tokyo.
 
 By now you're all sick of 2025 being as bad as 2024, and maybe you're thinking of just cancelling the rest of the 2020s. Low ratings, right? They cancelled Firefly.

But my wife and I are of defiant stock, and we accepted an invitation to go out for a fun-filled Robert Burns Night. I don't generally like driving at night, because that's when the depressed deer come out to throw themselves in front of cars, with the final cry of "I can't take another winter outdoors!"

Still, Robert Burns Night is like Christmas in Scotland, and according to the DNA test I'm 29% Scottish. (And 2% Cameroon, which is in Africa but sounds Scottish.) Burns is Scotland's National Poet, and I'm all for celebrating writers.


You've probably heard, at least once every year, one song Burns had a hand in: Auld Lang Syne. My personal favorite of his is his poem, "To a Louse".

So we made toasts, piped in the haggis, and of course ate neeps and tatties, which I hope aren't related to haggis. It wasn't completely Scottish, because we didn't drink alcohol, and the haggis was meatloaf. Haggis is illegal in the United States due to its sheep lungs, which is actually the least objectionable ingredient.

We celebrated late into the night (okay, for two hours), got to see our old doggie friend Watson and visit with his Scottish humans, and on the way home hit a deer.

 

 
 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Q13iEaHkqc


If you look carefully, you can see her little white tail bounding away to the right, without a care in the world outside of a sore rump.

 

 Stupid deer.

And that's why I'm in so much pain as I write this. Not because of a lack of haggis, but because by the point of impact I'd slowed from 60 mph to 30, from standing on the brake while simultaneously pulling back on the steering wheel as hard as I could with both hands, while two of my most important body openings slammed shut and Emily yelled "Ghdeiirreee!"

 Well, that's what it sounded like to me.

It's basically the same reaction I have whenever the dentist fires up that little drill, and all my stressed muscles hurt after that, too. 

I've always loved the acceleration on our Ford Escape, and now I also admire its brakes. 

The steering wheel is no longer perfectly round, and there are some marks in the dash that resemble Emily's fingers, but otherwise we came out okay. The only impact damage to the car was a cracked piece of plastic on the front grill, and some deer hair left behind.

 

We didn't even have to clean the seats, thanks to the aforementioned puckering effect.

This is only the second deer I've ever hit, despite some extremely close calls, so it could have been worse. Emily wanted to track the deer down and bring it home as steaks, but I talked her out of it. It was probably just some teenage deer on a dare, anyway.

I'm fairly sure Robert Burns was in no way involved, unless the deer were also having a Burns Night and went all in with the whiskey (and haggis).

"Now, Bambi, I think you've had enough."

"No, seriously, hold my whiskey and watch me scare this driver!"

Anyway, I'm now composing a poem about how great our car is, based on one of Burns' poems:

"My love is like a ruby red rose."

Because the Escape is ruby red, you see. Okay, I'll workshop it. Maybe it can come out in 2030.




You can read our books here:

·        Amazon:  

https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

 

·        Barnes & Noble:  

 

 

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

 

·        Goodreads:  

 

 

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

 

·        Blog: 

 

 

https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

 

·        Website: 

 

 

http://www.markrhunter.com/

 

·        Instagram: 

 

 

https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

 

·        Facebook: 

 

 

https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

 

·        Linkedin: 

 

 

https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

 

·        Twitter: 

 

 

https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

 

·        Youtube: 

 

 

https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

 

·        Substack:  

 

 

https://substack.com/@markrhunter

 

·        Tumblr:  

 

 

https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

 

·        Smashwords:  

 

 

https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

 

·        Audible:  

 

 

https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

 

 

 

 

 

Remember: Deer can’t read, and have to live outside. Coincidence?

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