Don't try this at home: Tybee Isaldn H-Bomb!
Today I get to welcome author Michael Houtchen with his debut thriller, the Tybee Island H-Bomb! Suspense, thrills, mystery great characters, and even some humor awaits you in the book, and here on my blog... the author himself! So, Hi Michael, and welcome to my blog.
They showed me a nice official "author bio" when I invited you here, and I... er... I would love to know more. Is it cheating to ask you to explain before my readers read your bio?I've included it lower down this blogpost, so they can find it in the "about the author" section below.
And now, please tell... Over to you, Michael.
In my first Bio, I wrote I once
hung myself. It was a tease, but it did happen. Since the Bio came out, I’ve been asked about
the hanging. So, here’s the story. I hope you’re not disappointed.
Disclaimer: Don’t try this at
home. I am a professional. (Yeah, right.)
When I was around twelve years
old, I learned how to tie a hangman’s knot.
It’s the typical knot you see in all the western movies. By the way, if it’s a true hangman’s knot, it
will have thirteen wraps or loops. Fun
fact: the gallows will have thirteen steps.
Okay, that wasn’t funny. I would
say, for the condemned, thirteen is unlucky.
So, I asked myself, “Self, what
are we going to do with this beautiful hangman’s noose?”
I replied, “Duh, we’re going to
play hangman of course.”
“But how?” my other-self asked.
“We’ll use the crossbar on the swing.”
Earlier that year, under a scrawny
locust tree, dad had built a wooden frame to hold a two-person swing. It had two 4x4 vertical poles and a 4x4 horizontal
crossbar from which hung the swing.
Standing on said swing, I looped the hangman’s noose around the middle
of the crossbar. I then placed the noose
over my head and around my neck. To make
it more realistic, I placed my hands behind my back, like they were tied.
That was as far as the fun went.
For within a heartbeat, the swing
swung out from beneath me, and the noose tighten around my neck. Without thinking, I reached up and grabbed
the crossbar, pulling myself up long enough to get the swing back under my
feet. Lucky for me, I had tied the noose
close to the horizontal bar. Can you
imagine what would have happened if I had tied the noose lower, and I couldn’t have
been able to grab the crossbar? Okay,
that’s just too scary to think about.
The only damage done was to my pride
and a rope burn that ran under my chin from ear to ear. For two weeks, I walked around with my chin
tucked close to my chest hoping no one would notice the burn. That was over fifty years ago, and I don’t
remember anyone asking why I was walking with my chin on my chest. I bet my mom knew why, moms know these
things, but she never asked. I believe
she didn’t want to embarrass me.
So, how does any of this lead to the
novel, Tybee Island H-Bomb? No clue.
I will say this, I’ve had an interesting life. My wife and I like to travel. We've been to Europe and Australia. We cruised all around the Caribbean. Our last cruise was along the east coast from
New York City up to Nova Scotia. I
wanted to stop by Oak Island, but it was closed for the season. If you’re not familiar with Oak Island,
Google: The Curse of Oak Island.
Stephanie and I have been to most
of the states. So, it shouldn’t be a
surprise, at some point we ended up on Tybee Island, just outside Savannah,
Georgia. We love the island so much,
we’ve been there seven or eight times, and we’re heading back there this coming
summer. I hope to set up a book signing.
About the author, Michael Houtchen:Kentucky has always been my home. I was born in Owensboro and raised in Daviess County. Life was simple back then. I grew up with outhouses, hand-pumps, and coal stoves. If you wanted hot water, you heated it on the stove. Both of my parents have passed on. I have a half-brother, Danny, but most of our younger lives he lived with his father, so we didn’t get to see each other often. Looking back, sadly, it was like being an only child. My closest friends were the cows, chickens, pigs, goats, sheep, turkeys, geese, ducks, and horses my dad kept on our small farm. I hope I didn’t leave anyone out. Farm animals can be so jealous. Our grocery store – mason jars of mom’s canned vegetables and the occasional trip into town to the IGA.
My dad was a woodsman. You could give him a shotgun, a box of shells and a book of matches, and he could disappear into the forest for weeks. I used to hunt with him, but I was never the woodsman. I can’t tell you how many deer, squirrels, rabbits, raccoons and ground hogs I’ve eaten.
My wife, Stephanie, and I have five kids (three boys and two girls) and eight grandchildren (five boys and three girls). All but one son live here in town. You should see Christmas day at our house.
I’ve had several jobs during my lifetime. When I was thirteen, I had a summer job. I was a soda-jerk at the Utica Junior High School playground. The school is now defunct. It is not my fault the school went defunct. As an adult, I started out as a janitor. Loved the work, but not the pay. Mapping came next. In other words, I was a draftsman who created maps from surveys. I did that for over twenty years. Mapping fulltime and going to Brescia College (It’s now a University) at night, I got a BS in Computer Science. Career change. I was a Computer Analyst for over twenty years.
There came a day when I realized I was the dinosaur of Computer Science. Technology had passed me by. So, I up and retired. That was in 2014, and I haven’t missed working a day. Truth be known, I do miss the people I worked with. Notice, I’ve said nothing about writing. I could tell you a pretty good story, but putting it on paper was another thing. Stephanie, my wife, asked, “And why not?” I had no answer.
I should keep this short, so, I will tease you with two important events that happened in my life; two events that I haven’t already discussed. When we meet each other, don’t hesitate to ask me about them.
Monday, September 6, 1965, was a Labor Day, and I was out of school. On that day, I came in contact with a high voltage powerline. Seven thousand two hundred volts entered my hand and exited my head and my feet.
That’s not a typo. It was seven thousand two hundred volts. I was given up for dead for three days. There is a “rest of the story” as Paul Harvey used to say. Ask me about it when we meet.
The second event: September 17, 2017, I was ordained a Permanent Deacon in the Catholic Church. It keeps me busy these days. If you’re not sure what a Permanent Deacon does, Goggle “Permanent Deacon of the Catholic Church.”
There you have it. My life story summed up in 1000 words or less. It sounds like a writing contest doesn’t it. There’s so much I left out. I could tell you about riding the rails, or the time I hung myself. But, those will have to wait until we meet.
I do wish I could real-meet you instead of just e-meeting. My brother is a Catholic priest, so I know what a permanent deacon does, but I'd love to know how it combines with being an author. As to the Comp Sci dinosaur... been there, done that!
Where to find the author:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Michael-Houtchen-1425826841052699/
The government lost a hydrogen bomb around Tybee Island, Georgia, in 1958, or is that an old wives’ tale?
If it is only a tale, then why are three young men trying to find it, in hopes of selling it to make a dirty bomb?
Before the week is out, six friends from Kentucky will get caught up in kidnapping, murder, and treason, while trying to save one of their own and perhaps the citizens of Tybee Island and Savannah, Georgia.
Where to find Tybee Island H-Bomb
Kindle Version: https://www.amazon.com/Tybee-Island-H-Bomb-Michael-Houtchen-ebook/dp/B07V6T7BWC/
Amazon Print Version: https://www.amazon.com/Tybee-Island-H-Bomb-Michael-Houtchen/dp/1948042789/
Barnes and Noble Link: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/tybee-island-h-bomb-michael-houtchen/1132868604?ean=9781948042789
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