Home aboutmarc thefamily Marc's Books bookreviews Sample Reads Conntacts

marckuhn.com

Freebies!  Everybody likes freebies.  Here are three sample reads from my books.                   Hope you like them!

Excerpt from:  DEAD LETTER

Donald D’Angelo drove his new Ford Tempo around the block  several times hoping someone would finally pull out and give up  a parking space.  This was the one thing he hated most about  coming to his parents’ house in South Philly—trying to find a  parking space.  The blocks of old row homes ran one after the  other, interrupted occasionally by a corner storefront, a church  or a school.  The D’Angelo house was in the middle of the  block, but still close enough to Pat’s and Gino’s cheesesteak stands that the aroma of fried thin beef, onions and melted provolone cheese was a long-accepted part of the environment. The streets here are narrow, lined on one or both sides by bumper-to-bumper parked automobiles.  Most of the streets are one-way, making a repeated circular route looking for a parking space all the more difficult to navigate.  Donald D’Angelo had already watched two cars pull away from the curb, but each time the car in front of him quickly maneuvered itself into the vacant slot.  Not surprisingly, seasoned South Philadelphia drivers were professionals at parallel parking and had no problem maneuvering into an open space no matter how tight.  In South Philly, parallel parking was a skill learned at an early age and one that easily identified native sons from outsiders who had no concept of how to move a car sideways and wedge it snugly between two others.

Excerpt from:  THE 11TH YEAR OF CHRISTOPHER ARTHUR McDANIELS

     …“Hey, McDaniels,” Stephen yells, “How’d you like to play

 baseball today.  We’re a player short for right field. How

‘bout it?”

     Now, let’s back up a minute.  This is another one of those

times when you need some background information to

understand the impact of what’s going on here.  First of all,

Stephen Anderson is just about the best little league

baseball player in the universe.  I mean, no kidding, twenty

years from now I’ll be watching him on TV playing for the

Yankees and I’ll tell everyone that I knew him when he was just a kid.  Now, Stephen Anderson is exactly the kind of kid who never ever would even think of asking me to play baseball unless he was like totally desperate and the world was about to blow up to oblivion and beyond for him to actually ask me to play baseball—and be on his team!  Stuff like this just doesn’t happen, at least to me.  I’m like in shock.

   “I’m taking my sister for a walk in her stroller,” I tell him.  Brilliant!  Like he doesn’t already see this.

  “We’re just playing a short game, five innings.  Why don’t you park her by the fence and you can still keep an eye on her.”

  “Okay, that sounds like a plan,” I say, “but I don’t have a glove.”  

“No problem, you can use my new one.  It isn’t broken in yet, but you can still use it.”  

The thing is, the condition of the glove is meaningless.  For me, I could have a dump truck on my hand and I’d still miss any ball coming at me. I’m thinkin’ this day is just getting weirder and weirder.   Stephen Anderson wants me to play baseball…on his team…and he’s even going to let me use one of his gloves.  This could be my ticket out of nerdsville.”  

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Now, Stephen Anderson is exactly the kind of kid who never ever would even think of asking me to play baseball unless he was like totally desperate and the world was about to blow up to oblivion and beyond for him to actually ask me to play baseball—and be on his team!  Stuff like this just doesn’t happen, at least to me.  I’m like in shock.

“I’m taking my sister for a walk in her stroller,” I tell him.  Brilliant!  Like he doesn’t already see this.

“We’re just playing a short game, five innings.  Why don’t you park her by the fence and you can still keep an eye on her.”

“Okay, that sounds like a plan,” I say, “but I don’t have a glove.”  

“No problem, you can use my new one.  It isn’t broken in yet, but you can still use it.”  

The thing is, the condition of the glove is meaningless.  For me, I could have a dump truck on my hand and I’d still miss any ball coming at me.  I’m thinkin’ this day is just getting weirder and weirder.   Stephen Anderson wants me to play baseball…on his team…and he’s even going to let me use one of his gloves. This could be my ticket out of nerdsville.  



(Click cover to purchase)

Click on Cover to Purchase

Home aboutmarc thefamily Marc's Books bookreviews Sample Reads Conntacts

Never leave a bug in a jar in your room at night.

It could lead to sleepless hours full of fright.

I once put a beetle in a jar by my bed.

He buzzed around so loud I thought he was

inside my head.

I worried he would get lost in there and never

get out.

This kept me frantic all night just tossing about.

My buddy Benjamin had a praying mantis bottled up one night

He dreamed it got out and crawled in his bed and started to bite.

Bugs don’t like being kept in jars or boxes, or cans for that matter.

In the middle of the night all you can hear is their pitter patter.

They’ll keep you awake wondering if they’ll cause you any harm

And you’ll swear you keep feeling them crawling up your arm.

Nope, if you want to sleep soundly knowing everything’s all right

Never leave a bug in a jar in your room at night.


ht.

I once put a beetle in a jar by my bed.

He buzzed around so loud I thought he was

inside my head.

I worried he would get lost in there and never

get out.

This kept me frantic all night just tossing about.

My buddy Benjamin had a praying mantis bottled up one night

He dreamed it got out and crawled in his bed and started to bite.

Bugs don’t like being kept in jars or boxes, or cans for that matter.

In the middle of the night all you can hear is their pitter patter.

They’ll keep you awake wondering if they’ll cause you any harm

And you’ll swear you keep feeling them crawling up your arm.

Nope, if you want to sleep soundly knowing everything’s all right

Never leave a bug in a jar in your room at night.


Excerpt from NEVER  GOOSE A MOOSE

…and a bunch of other things you should never do!

Click on illustration to Purchase