My life is made up of small vignettes where now I only remember the funny, the interesting stuff, and have pretty much forgotten the standing in wet shoes in the snow, the job interviews that I blew, the car not starting and the entire computer network crashing after I just touch, ever so lightly, the WRONG KEY.
My formative years were spent on my knees in the corridors of some of the most prestigious schools in suburban Chicago. The nuns tried to break my spirit on a daily basis but I persevered. High school was when I started working on cars, which I still do. Modern chemistry has allowed me to purge my fingernails of the grease from my first Fiat—finally. I studied engineering in college, then I left for the Marine Corp Reserves.
I worked on making screws and ladders. When things were still made in America, I made 'em. And, the government gave me two patents for it. I also owned and operated a woodshop and a gift shop sequentially.
I stood in front of high school students for years. Unfortunately, I believe, I have profited much more from it than they.
In the name of economy, I bought cars that needed work. The terminally ill were saved from the salvage yard just before their last breath. I helped them recapture their youth and usefulness. Some day, I will own a car of this century.
Places I've lived: state with most governors in prison (Illinois), state closest to the Arctic Circle (Minnesota), and now paradise (Florida).
For the unknowing, Naples FL is paradise. Several of my friends who have died and gone to heaven have said: "Hey, this ain't as good as Naples. I wanna go back." If you forget the balmy temp, there are still the lovely palm trees and flowers that scent and cover every inch of this leisure land. I couldn't have found a nicer place to settle.
I'm having a fun filled life with a wonderful wife (my neighbor's) (just kidding) and grown son and daughter-in-law. My son and I still have a good relationship. Just the other day we traded noogies.
I am editing a new mystery about a dog, and a volume of short stories and things.
My story, Next Time We Steal The Carillon, will be coming out in paperback around the holidays.
Pass me my Piňa Colada please.
Where to find Louie Flann online
by Louie Flann
Bigdog sniffs his way down the sidewalk, spotting a friendly face at last—Maureen. She is an animal behaviorist who trains dogs to communicate and he really needs to communicate. After several months’ internship with Maureen, he “tells” that he has witnessed a murder. Would he be able to testify in court? Would it be legal? Would the jury believe him? Would you believe him?
Next Time We Steal The Carillon
by Louie Flann
College life and crime detection are seen through the eyes of our student investigators. These contemporary temporary sleuths live through a cozy mystery set at a Midwestern college during the 1990s. And yes, they are not taking it seriously.
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