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Gary McPherson
Goodreads Author
Born
in Sacramento, The United States
Genre
Influences
Member Since
March 2018
URL
https://www.goodreads.com/gmacwriter
More books by Gary McPherson…
New Paranormal Thriller
I just finished writing my first Kindle Vella. The experience was fun in that I did not use my normal process. I gave myself a six-episode cushion, posted the first three, and then wrote as I went along. I kept my releases to once a week, which is still ongoing.
My schedule gave me plenty of time to write, so I was not worried about life getting in the way. The experience was a lot of fun, especial Read more of this blog post »
My schedule gave me plenty of time to write, so I was not worried about life getting in the way. The experience was a lot of fun, especial Read more of this blog post »
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“He puts his hands up against the wall above his head like he’s gonna be frisked by the police. He appears to be lookin’ down at his sticks and berries and I’m thinkin’ that fella is gonna wet himself. Nothin’ is happenin’ and I’m beginin’ to wonder if he has a medical problem. All of a sudden, he starts singin’. Except, he ain’t singin’ words, or hummin a tune. He’s just sort of starts singing a tune like cowboys do in movies when they are alone on the prairie. Next thing I know, I hear his water works start up. Now at this point I think it must be his way with dealin’ of relievin’ himself at the urinal, except this fella keeps singin’ while lookin’ down at himself.”
― Country Boy
― Country Boy
“John’s laugh made Harold’s blood run cold. “Yes, you do. You saw him cowering on the floor in fear. You wanted him dead. Inside that big chest of yours beats the heart of a murderer. In fact, you’re going to kill again.”
― Harold and the Angel of Death
― Harold and the Angel of Death
“Now, I lived that city life for a lot of years. It’s hard livin’ on account of people focusin’ more on workin’ themselves to death than enjoyin’ the privilege of breathin’. I moved into the concrete jungle on account of there bein’ money to be made. Unfortunately, a lot of money has to be spent for the privilege of livin’ the city life. After all, somebody must pay for them skyscrapers, asphalt, and concrete.”
― Humor Deeper Than A Holler
― Humor Deeper Than A Holler
“John’s laugh made Harold’s blood run cold. “Yes, you do. You saw him cowering on the floor in fear. You wanted him dead. Inside that big chest of yours beats the heart of a murderer. In fact, you’re going to kill again.”
― Harold and the Angel of Death
― Harold and the Angel of Death
“Now, I lived that city life for a lot of years. It’s hard livin’ on account of people focusin’ more on workin’ themselves to death than enjoyin’ the privilege of breathin’. I moved into the concrete jungle on account of there bein’ money to be made. Unfortunately, a lot of money has to be spent for the privilege of livin’ the city life. After all, somebody must pay for them skyscrapers, asphalt, and concrete.”
― Humor Deeper Than A Holler
― Humor Deeper Than A Holler
“He puts his hands up against the wall above his head like he’s gonna be frisked by the police. He appears to be lookin’ down at his sticks and berries and I’m thinkin’ that fella is gonna wet himself. Nothin’ is happenin’ and I’m beginin’ to wonder if he has a medical problem. All of a sudden, he starts singin’. Except, he ain’t singin’ words, or hummin a tune. He’s just sort of starts singing a tune like cowboys do in movies when they are alone on the prairie. Next thing I know, I hear his water works start up. Now at this point I think it must be his way with dealin’ of relievin’ himself at the urinal, except this fella keeps singin’ while lookin’ down at himself.”
― Country Boy
― Country Boy
“Have I really aged this much in fifty-eight years?”
His thick locks that had once been jet black were
now mostly gray. Deep wrinkles had formed between
his dark brown eyes from hours of thinking. Although
weighing two hundred and ten pounds was not huge for
a man six feet tall, he recalled a time when he was
twenty pounds lighter. He sighed and finished his
morning routine. It seemed so meaningless. What could
he do with his day? Still, he had to hide his personal
pain for the sake of Harold and Barbara. He may not be
much of a psychiatrist, but he could still be a supportive
friend. Joshua headed to the kitchen to make coffee.”
― Joshua and the Shadow of Death
His thick locks that had once been jet black were
now mostly gray. Deep wrinkles had formed between
his dark brown eyes from hours of thinking. Although
weighing two hundred and ten pounds was not huge for
a man six feet tall, he recalled a time when he was
twenty pounds lighter. He sighed and finished his
morning routine. It seemed so meaningless. What could
he do with his day? Still, he had to hide his personal
pain for the sake of Harold and Barbara. He may not be
much of a psychiatrist, but he could still be a supportive
friend. Joshua headed to the kitchen to make coffee.”
― Joshua and the Shadow of Death
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