Steve Ryan spent months hiking and biking the beautiful Southwest Sonoran Desert, suffering more flat tires than he can count in his search for Saguaros that had something to “say”. Sassy Saguaros features the photographs he took of the most interesting subjects–based on their looks and personalities–and the hilarious captions he added (Steve is also a part-time comedian).
These desert dwellers–which often weigh several tons and can live up to 200 years–are brought to life in the wonderful, wacky world of Sassy Saguaros. Get ready to laugh out loud and see how “human” this giant cactus can be!
I was never willing to settle for any Saguaro that wasn’t so unique that any person wouldn’t have to say “Wow, I’ve never seen a Saguaro that looks anything like that”. I never considered any Saguaro that I could assign a usual description to. The Saguaro had to be totally unique and unlike anything anybody has ever seen to make the book. I never looked at a cactus and said to myself, “Ok, think of a funny caption”. Quite to the contrary, every Saguaro featured in my book was selected because when I first saw it, the caption raced through my mind automatically and made me laugh out loud, even while alone in the desert. Yes, they had to be that funny. My goal was always to locate Saguaros that were “one of a kind” and uniquely expressive as to the caption I assigned to it.
About The Author
Steve Ryan, explorer and photographer, has lived in the Sonoran Desert for over 40 years. Steve is now retired and devoted to sharing the beauty-and “sass”-of the famous Saguaro cactus.
Steve Ryan spent years hiking and biking the beautiful Southwest Sonoran Desert, suffering more flat tires than he can count in his search for Saguaros that had something to say. Sassy Saguaros features the photographs he took of the most interesting subjects-based on their looks and personalities-and the hilarious captions he added. These desert dwellers-which often weigh several tons and can live up to 200 years-are brought to life in the wonderful, wacky world of Sassy Saguaros. Get ready to laugh out loud and see how “human” this giant cactus can be!
A bizarre and hilarious look at surviving societal collapse…
When Armageddon hits you can’t always pick your post-apocalyptic companions, That’s the dilemma facing major-league scout Riley Knight, who finds himself stranded with a collection of borderline crazies at a remote diner when a gigantic solar storm plunges the world into the dark ages.
Cut off from the rest of the electricity-deprived world, the group, whose grip on sanity is tenuous, and whose coping skills leave much to be desired, are forced to rely on each other with laughingly absurd results. As their situation rapidly deteriorates, the distant town of Jericho becomes their only hope for survival. Only the road to Jericho is fraught with peril that only the bravest of them may survive. Worse, Jericho may not be the safe haven they desperately seek. How will they survive this new bizarre and frightening world where everyone’s a nut in a place that’s getting nuttier by the day is anyone’s guess.
Praise for Surviving Crazy:
“A downright hilarious look at ‘the end of civilization as we know it’… A funny book in the ‘slap him in the head style of comedy’ but this goes deeper.” — Readers Favorite 5 Stars!
“An exceptional and original novel that holds the reader’s fully entertained attention from beginning to end. An impressive and deftly crafted novel populated with memorable characters and unexpected plot twists and turns” — Midwest Book Review
“With a long, character-building fuse and a whip-smart pen behind the imagery-rich writing, this novel hums with tension and possibility from the start… Surviving Crazy is a head-scratching read that will make you laugh out loud and stay up late to see how it all plays out.”— Self-Publishing Review
“I thoroughly enjoyed this goofy, comic novel, and laughed out loud through much of it. The characters are wildly drawn, and the satire is sharp and pointed…The ending is surprising, ironic, and perfect.” — Readers’ Favorite
“A colorful burst of comedy and satire.” — RedCity Review
“An ingenious, humorous novel…a thoroughly engrossing,rib-tickling-funny read that lovers of both SF and literary fiction won’t wantto miss.”…The Prairies Book Review
“Anentirely new perspective on end-time scenarios. Readers should hold onto theirhats in this fast-paced story. It is bursting with troublesome yet loveablecharacters who fill this tale with hyperbole, danger, and amazing camaraderie” — US Review of Books
It was at that point in his near-death experience when Shephard said he saw the light appear in front of him, a bright embraceable warm radiance accompanied by a soothing voice calling him into it.
Shephard however wasn’t ready to comply just yet and began to resist. “I was yelling at the voice that I wasn’t going anywhere until it did something about that jackass Floyd Monroe. I mean I was livid. I wanted some action.”
The voice tried coaxing Shephard into the light by promising him that it only wanted to talk for a brief moment before it sent him back into his body. Then Shephard could take care of Floyd anyway he wanted. It sounded like a reasonable compromise and so Shephard headed off into the light.
What happened next according to Shephard was his face-to-face meeting with God, or who he presumed to be God. “He kind of looked like Mr. Feathers.”
Mr. Feathers was Plucky Rooster’s national mascot, a giant red rooster famous for his straw hat and bib overalls.
Riley’s look of disbelief was shared by Shephard. “I know. I was expecting God to look different too. Something along the lines of a bearded, silvery-haired guy in a white robe. Naturally, I began to think I was getting conned.”
About The Author
Frank Crimi is a writer and the author of Surviving Crazy. His other books include Raining Frogs & Heart Attacks. Frank is married with two sons and two grandchildren.
Trouble Has Million Dollar Gams is a collection of comedic short stories as seen from the sepia toned view of Detective Joseph Quincy Kingly.
Do you crave SUSPENSE
Do you seek ACTION
Do you love a MYSTERY
Do you long for ROMANCE
Do you yearn for VIOLENCE
Do you have a lust for GORE
Do you just want to LAUGH?
Detective Joseph Quincy Kingly brings it all in shovels.
Except for the gore. And there’s not much romance. Some mystery. A little violence here and there. The suspense is the time between picking up this book and reading it. So………………………………………….don’t let the suspense continue.
About the Author
Rory Joe Heynemann was born and raised in Western Australia. After studying Creative Writing at Curtin University, Rory moved to the Gold Coast, Queensland, where he resides in Surfers Paradise.
Hope Allison McKinley died. Or, at least everyone thought she did. When she suddenly wakes up in the middle of her own funeral – to the shock of all her loved ones – that is just the beginning of her problems.
Reawakened, Hope now sees what everyone really thought of her. The casket is cheap, the flowers suck, and she’s wearing an outfit she wouldn’t be caught dead in! It’s her worst nightmare come true and all hell is about to break loose.
In Woke Up Dead, Hope is faced with the enormous task of putting her death behind her and rebuilding her life. Having to overcome being a YouTube sensation and being shunned by her family, she slowly comes to realize that this is going to be a long, difficult, frustrating road.
If you ever wondered what would happen if you Woke Up Dead, let Hope Allison McKinley walk you through the trials and tribulations in a story that will have you dying to read more.
About the Author
I hate the idea of being kept in a box. I have always had a creative flair and delight in quilting, writing, and occasionally dusting off my flute. Over the past decade, I’ve served my clients and community as a family law attorney. I genuinely love serving, but being devoted to others can often leave one feeling drained and unfulfilled.
In 2019, a mind shift happened. I decided to unchain myself from my desk and nurture my need to create. I stopped living the life others expected of me and started chasing my dreams. In September of 2019, my first book, Woke Up Dead, will be available for purchase. It is an amusing, tongue-in-cheek novella about a young woman who wakes up at her own funeral, to the shock of those in attendance, and soon finds that getting back to life as normal is nearly impossible.
In my spare time, you can find me traveling, creating, attending concerts, and drinking my sorrows away after the latest Buffalo Bills loss. I also attend as many P!nk experiences as I possibly can. (She does not do concerts … she creates bucket list experiences …).
If you want to be the first to know what I’ll do next, please follow me on social media and sign up for my mailing list and nadiagilkes.com
attorney Cullen Molloy attends his fortieth high school reunion, he doesn’t
expect to be defending childhood friends against charges of murder…
a small town on the high plains of Eastern New Mexico, life and culture are
shaped by the farm roads defining the 640-acre sections of land homesteaders
claimed at the turn of the Twentieth Century. Cullen and Shelby Blaine explore
first love along these section roads during the 1960’s, forging a life-long
As junior high school band nerds, Cullen
and Shelby fall under the protection of football player and loner, Buddy Boyd.
During their sophomore year of high school, Buddy is charged with killing a
classmate and is confined to a youth correctional facility. When he returns to
town facing the prospect of imprisonment as an adult, Cullen becomes Buddy’s
The case haunts the three friends into
adulthood, and it isn’t until their fortieth reunion, that they’re forced to
revisit that horrible night. When a new killing takes place, Cullen, Shelby and
Buddy find themselves reliving the nightmare.
Murder is an easy thing to hide along
old country section roads.
ambitious, evocative small-town tale located somewhere between Peyton Place and
The Last Picture Show.” –Kirkus Review
“I’ll ride with Buddy,” Shelby whispered. “Do you mind? It’ll give us a chance to talk.”
“No, I think that’s a good idea.” Cullen lifted his eyebrows, which Shelby dismissed with a wave.
Buddy stood a little apart from them at the Enterprise counter. They’d been through the greeting rituals. A hug for Shelby, which she returned with a kiss to his cheek. A polite, interested handshake with Lori.
Cullen and Lori left them and began an hour-long drive through the agricultural blight of West Texas.
“So, what’s the deal with Buddy?” Lori asked. “I know you worked together a long time ago, but you really haven’t talked much about him.”
They drove along a paved road—an impossibly straight line heading north. Deep green alfalfa fields alternated with stubby rows of cotton and weedy, untilled soil bank every few miles forming a pattern replicating itself off into a horizontal infinity. Heat waves shimmered along the pavement. From the soil bank, dust and debris climbed columns of rising, swirling air.
At the age of five, Cullen came to believe these thermal dust devils were pathways for souls fleeing to heaven. He believed this because on the summer day his grandmother was buried at a rural cemetery with brown grass and a few gnarled, wind-battered elms, one of these dust devils sprang from an uncultivated field across the road and as it grew—sucking dirt and paper and tumbleweeds along—passed over the mounded red earth marking the new grave. A spurt of dust leaped from the mound, painting a segment of the great undulating pillar a pale rosy shade. This pink apparition climbed as the thermal moved across the cemetery, finally disappearing into a hot, whitish-blue, eastern New Mexico sky.
Dust devils always made Cullen think of the people he loved who were no longer alive. His mother and father rested with his grandmother at that same cemetery.
Cullen had a ready description when his friends asked him about his home town. Arthur, New Mexico, along with hardscrabble oil patch towns like Hobbs, Artesia, Midland and Odessa, was located on a high plane called Llano Estacado which, Cullen originally speculated, was Spanish for something like really windy dry flat place.
Occupying Eastern New Mexico and Northwest Texas, the region is characterized by hot blustery summers and even colder blustery winters. The wet part of the Llano received barely twenty inches of rain during a good year. “Arthur,” Cullen would note, “is in the dry part.”
Bleak as they might be, the Hobbses, Odessas and Artesias of the world were at least plopped down atop semi-vast underground puddles of oil. Not Arthur. Not a drop. If tumbleweeds had been a cash crop, though, the homesteaders would have prospered.
Arthur and Arthur County were named for Chester A. Arthur, America’s twenty-first president. Researching a junior high school history assignment, the most compelling facts Cullen found about him were that Arthur was America’s fifth fattest president and owned eighty pairs of pants.
The community of eight thousand—at an elevation of four thousand feet above sea level—had nothing geographical, like a river or a canyon or an oasis, to warrant its location.
Arthur just was.
The flat monotony spread in every direction. “Given a clear day,” Cullen was fond of saying, “you could climb a six-foot stepladder and see the earth curve.”
He often puzzled over the pioneers’ judgment. Certainly, more attractive locations waited further west. He supposed the settlers might have been tired and stopped to rest, thinking they would wait for a good rain to replenish their water supplies before they moved on. And when the livestock had all died of thirst, they were stuck.
Still, despite this hardship, there grew a civilization defined geographically by dirt roads that formed the borders of all those perfectly square six hundred and forty-acre sections of land claimed by early twentieth century homesteaders.
As Cullen composed his answer to Lori’s query about Buddy, he thought of those section roads, and all the ways straight lines and straight laces had twisted the paths of this small group of friends.
“I told you about Christy Hammond, didn’t I?” Cullen answered. “The girl who was shot to death our sophomore year?”
Lori gave a little gasp. “That was Buddy? Oh, no. And he went to jail?”
“Juvenile detention. He pled guilty to manslaughter. They kept him until his eighteenth birthday. They took him away in November of 1966. He came back May of 1969.”
“At least he got to come back.”
Cullen gave a rueful laugh and shook his head.
“No, that was part of the punishment. A lot of people thought he should have been charged with murder. They thought he should have been sent away for life. When the judge didn’t agree, half the town was furious at the injustice of it all. Christy’s uncle is a lawyer. He convinced juvenile court authorities to make Buddy finish high school here as a condition of his release.”
“But why would they—”
“It was their last shot at punishing him,” Cullen said. “They had a few weeks to give him hell when they knew he couldn’t fight back.”
Murphey is a native of eastern New Mexico and spent almost thirty years as an
award-winning newspaper journalist in the Southwest and Pacific Northwest.
Following his retirement from the newspaper business, he and his wife Nancy
entered in a seventeen-year partnership with the late Dave Henderson, all-star
centerfielder for the Oakland Athletics, Boston Red Sox and Seattle Mariners.
Their company produces the A’s and Mariners adult baseball Fantasy Camps. They
also have a partnership with the Roy Hobbs adult baseball organization in Fort
Myers, Florida. They love baseball, fiction, cats and sailing. They split their
time between Spokane, Washington, and Phoenix, Arizona. Mike enjoys life as a
writer and old-man baseball player.