We don’t live in a vacuum. We live in a blender!
Circumstances of Childhood.
By John W. Howell
Shipping on October 1st. Priced at $0.99 for the introduction.
This is a different story for John. It is in the Family Life genre and tells the story of brotherly love, riches to rags, redemption and a little paranormal thrown in. Normally John writes thrillers but this time he has stepped into a different place. This book was written with love for the story and the hope it will be an enjoyable read.
Here is the blurb:
When a former pro football star and broadcaster, now a Wall Street maven is accused of insider trading, will he be able to prove his innocence and expose those who are guilty?
Greg and his boyhood pal dreamed of big success in professional football and then later in business. Greg was the only one to live the dream. Now the founder of an investment fund Greg is faced with a routine audit finding by the SEC. The audit points to irregularities and all the tracks lead to Greg. The justice department hits him with an indictment of 23 counts of fraud, money laundering, and insider trading. His firm goes bust, and Greg is on his own.
His best friend knows he is innocent but has been ordered under penalty of eternal damnation not to help.
If you enjoy stories of inspiration, riches to rags, redemption, brotherly love, and a little of the paranormal, Circumstance of Childhood will keep you riveted.
Here is an excerpt.
I look down at my drink and wonder what will happen tomorrow. My daughter Constance wants to come and visit. She lives in New York, and before all hell broke loose, we didn’t see each other often. I missed her so much, and it seemed as if I had to beg her even to talk on the phone. Now, it’s like she wants to be here every weekend. It’s only an hour’s flight by the shuttle or three by train, so she can come when she wants. I just can’t figure out why she got so clingy. I have my troubles, but it doesn’t have anything to do with her. No use in asking her husband either. Though a nice enough guy, I always wonder if he has someplace important to go when I visit. He never sits still and stays busy on the phone or at the computer. He makes a good living, but it seems a person could take an hour to sit and talk. I’d looked forward to some kind of relationship when he and Constance got married. It’ll never happen with him.
When I take another pull at my drink, I notice the burn feels less. It happens every time. First sip initiation, I call it. It’s like the first puff of a cigarette, hits hard then, after, nothing. I decide to let Constance pretty much have the agenda tomorrow. She and I have not had a chance to talk about anything deep for a while. It could just be that she blames me for her mother running off with that guy with the house on the Hudson. He has a title, and the old gal couldn’t resist, but I think the daughter always felt I should have done something. Her mother’s sleeping with another guy and what the hell can I do about that?
I’ll just go with the flow. If she wants to go out, we will. If she wants to stay in, we can do that too. I better think about getting some food in the house. Of course, we can always order take out. I need to move on to my drink and let this go. Tomorrow will be what it is. I remember the day she was born. I looked down at her in my arms and promised I would do anything for her. I love her more than life itself, and I hope we can somehow get to the root of whatever’s wrong. She sounded strange on the phone this morning, and I feel helpless to do anything about it. I hope she opens up when she gets here.
For some reason, I feel tired. Perhaps I’ll go ahead and finish my drink. Maybe I’ll just go home and forget the burger. First, though, I’ll just shut my eyes for a minute. My hands feel good when I put my head down.
“Hey, Greg,” Jerry says. I barely hear him. “What’s the matter? You taking a nap? Greg?” I can feel him shake me, but I have no interest in waking up. His voice gets further away, and I think he says, “Oh, my God, Sophie, call 911, quick.” Now the room goes silent.
John began his writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive business career. His specialty is thriller fiction novels, but John also writes poetry and short stories. His first book, My GRL, introduces the exciting adventures of the book’s central character, John J. Cannon. The second Cannon novel, His Revenge, continues the adventure, while the final book in the trilogy, Our Justice, launched in September 2016. The latest Circumstances of Childhood a family life story is available as of October 1st, 2017. All books are available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle editions.
John lives in Port Aransas, Texas with his wife and their spoiled rescue pets.
John’s other books:
My GRL, His Revenge and Our Justice
Available on Amazon at https://www.amazon.com/author/johnwhowell
I’m taking my bumblebee for a walk
He likes to drink you see
Floral syrup is his brew
He gets it all for free!
I’m taking my Robin for a walk
He flies from tree to tree
It’s hard for me to keep abreast
When Robin’s on a spree
I’m taking my butterfly for a walk
He likes to drink each day
Nectar is his beverage
A sip and he’s on his way
I love to walk with all my friends
They have so much to say
If only I could understand
Then maybe they would stay
My dear friend over at Healing Your Heart, Mark Lanesbury, revisited his very first blog and suggested that it might be fun for me to do so as well. He believed that it “would be a fun way to look at your Blog growth and transformation!” I like Mark and I enjoy his blog so I thought I would comply. Can you imagine my horror when I saw this?
Groundhog Day 2 2 13
I am sitting here looking at a blank page and I don’t know what to say. This is my first blog and I want to say something monumental and pithy and life affirming. And all I can think to say is hello. Perhaps it’s a tad banal but I mean well. I’m hoping that I will enjoy writing this blog and I hope that you will enjoy reading it. Together this could be one hell of a ride, so welcome. Welcome to my blog.
I have changed nothing. Talk about banal! Ok, ok, I was a newby and totally out of my depth. I believe I have grown and my writing has matured to a point where I am proud of what I write. (Mostly. I am a little embarrassed by some of my quips but the humour factor outweighs the morality code. Sorry Mom!)
I have also grown immeasurably simply by reading others’ blogs. I have gained insight into myself as well as the world we inhabit. Most of my quips are triggered by comments I make to others. I enjoy the process so very much. I have gained a confidence that has helped me to share of my self, which I believe benefits my writing. When I am not physically putting pen to paper (metaphorically speaking) then I am thinking about writing (literally speaking).
And it makes me smile. I look at a tree and see a poem. I argue with a bureaucrat and I have the foundation for a post. I am having a ball! (The kind I play with!) Hopefully I will be able to continue for a very long while. Oh and some of the people who ‘liked’ my words four years go are still with me. Yeah!
See Marks words at: healingyourheartfromwithin.wordpress.com I highly recommend it.
A cold dreary mist
The day becomes night
With a soft ghostly call.
Sound becomes muted
A whisper seems loud
In a gossamer shroud.
Walk softly, walk light
You’re way is not clear
Keep close to your breast
All those you hold dear.
The fog holds a secret
A truth yet unknown
To hear it takes courage
The strength to be shown.
A soft gentle mist
soon tickles the air
It’s a warm friendly touch
No need to beware.
Which one will it be
To fear or embrace
The fog makes a choice
To touch with its grace.