Paul Moore was born in the Missouri Ozarks, raised in St. Louis, and eventually settled in the sand of central Florida. He calls each of these places home.
His inner mix of hillbilly river rat, lowlands daydreamer, sand road hermit, and reader of nineteenth-century history writers form the base of a non-elite education. These roots allow imagination to turn historic events into serendipitous thoughts. Those thoughts organize into stories, and stories become novels.
With the remedial help of a good critique group, and the birth of publishing companies that read a manuscript without asking first, “What are your credentials?”, he’s found a voice to share those stories.
Is it true that heroes are made, not born?
Otis McKinney, Dr. Henry Milton, an embattled Panamanian tribe, a failed baseball prospect, a dedicated cab driver, and the Asmudi family walk into a club … It sounds like the first line of a joke. This club is no joke. They’re playing for all the marbles.
This time, the enemy is human.
On a trip to spread his Grampy’s ashes in the Amazon, John Lockjaw Smith finds love, and a renewed sense of purpose, in the person of Willa Vernon, a lady haunted by her past association with a group of eugenic maniacs.
If you woke up one day and realized you had memories from more than seventy lives, fluid in every language you’d ever spoken, and recalled all the texts you’d ever read, would you wonder why?
Dr. Henry Milton has what looks like an easy assignment: he has twenty-four hours to evaluate the John Doe and refer him for processing. But John Doe has a timetable of his own.