Thank you to Authors’ Lounge for helping me in promoting my book.  I wrote my first fiction novel in 2011 after months of contemplation, late nights at the computer, and frenzied emails back and forth to my then editor at a small publisher in Austin, Texas.  I have always loved writing and spent my high school years preparing to earn a journalism degree.  

I was an editor for the school newspaper and had every intention of continuing a career in the field of journalism.  Fast forward a few years and I had taken a detour.  My love for law enforcement won out and I became a police officer in the town in which I was raised.  I married my high school sweetheart and we had a daughter shortly after.  I spent a decade in law enforcement as a patrol officer, a field training officer and a background investigator. 

In 2000, well after the Y2K scare had faded, I left law enforcement for a chance to own and operate a business.  My daughter grew up, went to college and moved out and my wife and I moved from our home State of Texas to the mountains of Colorado. 

I was in the midst of writing my first novel during this move.  The small publisher in Austin filed for bankruptcy after sending me my final, edited manuscript that was only weeks away from being printed in hardback.  I was heartbroken on hearing the news.  Thankfully, I had retained all rights to my book so I was able to get it published with only minor irritation.  It turned out to be a wonderful, exciting, and absolutely aggravating experience that I wouldn’t trade for the world.  My book is a fictional account of a man named Colton Wylde.  He’s an entrepreneur and small business owner in a small town who is confronted with an extraordinary situation.  In true American tradition, he stands up for his friends, his freedom and his country.

  The Last Countrymen, Chapter 2.  “Colton sipped a glass of sweet tea and ate a dinner roll while waiting for Congressman Billings.  Sam walked in and sat down, ordered a glass of tea, a cheeseburger with mustard, pickles, lettuce and onions and a large side of fries.

 “What’s up Sam? asked Colton.  “You have my attention with the way you set this up.”  Sam shrugged and said, “Maybe it was a little over-the-top, but I needed to talk to you alone.  I’d like to hear your honest opinion on an urgent matter.”  “Go ahead,” replied Colton.

“Okay.  Colton, you know I’ve always done my best to do what’s right and put the best interest of our country, state and district at the forefront of any legislation I’ve supported.  And you know I’m a strong believer in our Constitution and our Bill of Rights, right?  Well, I have information that I think you and some friends of yours will find very disturbing and downright unlawful.  There’s been a secret bill, a petition of sorts, circulating around DC that’s asking for signatures of those in office who would at least entertain the idea of a secret ‘Constitutional Convention.’  The letter cites deficiencies in our outdated document that need to be corrected.  It states that freedom of religion may cultivate terrorism; that regionalism will lead to a healthier, more stable economic block in North America and that US policies  on individual freedoms, such as freedom of speech and the right to keep and bear arms, should be revisited to bring our ‘rogue’ nation in line with the rest of the civilized world.”

Colton and his friends begin planning for the upcoming coupe while attempting to keep a low profile so as not to raise suspicion.   In other parts of the country, life has gotten tough.  The government has cracked down on resisters; making examples of anyone they deem a threat, each night on the news.  Families, especially those who live in rural settings, have become the enemy for daring to hang on to their guns and way of life.

The Last Countrymen, Chapter 6.  The shooting stopped and the silence returned with a deafening howl.  The smell of dust, gunpowder, sheetrock and blood permeated the air in the now-quiet house.  A four man team swept the remainder of the home.  When they came to a shut door at the end of a hall on the right, the team made entry.  In the room, they found the body of a woman lying on top of a pile of bedsheets in the corner beside the bed.  Agent Yates checked the woman’s pulse but found none.  As he started to stand up he felt movement beneath the woman’s body.  He rolled her aside and came face-to-face with a   sobbing blonde haired, blue eyed little girl with blood running down her face, neck and nightgown.  She had so much blood on her that he initially believed she had been shot in the mayhem that had just taken place.  He immediately called for an ambulance and his supervisor.  The void in the pit of his stomach turned to a gut-wrenching illness.  Without warning, his dinner escaped out of his throat and landed right next to the little girl’s dead mother.  He puked again and again, until he had nothing left and his throat was burning.  After a short while, paramedics came into the room and took the little girl away.  She stared at him with the look of intense pain and bewilderment as they carried her off in a stretcher.

 The agent sat silently next to the woman’s body and began to shake as if he were having a seizure.  He screamed and cried like an out-of-control schoolgirl.  He tried to silence his grief, but could not.  He could not make any sense of what had just happened.  He had witnessed much worse overseas in combat, but somehow this was different.  He had been lucky up to this point; he had been spared any gunplay in his weapons-confiscation raids until today.  Now his worst fears had been realized:  He’d participated in the murder of innocent American civilians.

Thank you for stopping by and checking out my novel.  I am looking forward to the next one.

Don Peterson Jr.

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