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The next day they rode their new mountain bikes

to the cemetery to place fresh flowers

by the headstones of Douglas and Barbara Dawson

and Grandma Florence Jackson.

I won!” Caralyn shouted as she slid

to a stop on the gravel road.

She jumped off her bike and laid it gently in the grass.

Only because I let you,” Tucker replied.

He held her hand as they walked directly to the gravesite.

You’re not afraid anymore, are you, Carrie?

He thought as he looked into her eyes.

He looked up at the cloudless blue sky.

He waited a few seconds as he thought

he heard the whistle of a long gone train.

He smiled. It sounds like a cheerful train today.

I see a Cardinal on Grandma’s stone,” Caralyn said.

Tucker turned to look,

but the bird had flown away.

The third book set in Stockton Woods

continues to examine the lives of the

people who call this Midwestern town home,

but with the complications of life

after the death of a loved one.

The “Emmy’s Story” series begins when Emmy is

four-years-old and quickly progresses to focus

on her teen years and beyond.

In this book, “Life Goes On: Emmy’s Story, Part 19,”

Emmy’s fortieth birthday celebration

is interrupted by news from her sister.

Mr. Robertson used his binoculars and then pointed.

“There’s the barn, and I can see the herd a few miles up the valley.”

Tobias Tawney, the ranch foreman,

spotted the herd of close to two hundred animals.

“They haven’t moved far from their position last week.”

The pilot, Lyle Claypool, set the craft down in a clearing

on the opposite side of the barn and outbuildings

from the herd of Scottish Highland cattle.

Mr. Robertson ducked and stayed low until past the blades.

He walked quickly around the buildings and

used his binoculars to check his herd of prized animals.

“Let’s check the line cabin now. I want to make sure it’s well stocked.”

They returned to the chopper and Claypool set down

within a hundred yards of the rustic cabin.

“I’ll keep it idling for now.”

“Someone has been busy chopping wood,” Mr. Robertson said.

He opened the door and they stepped inside.

The light through the windows on either side of the

one-room cabin created a haze of dust particles.

Mr. Robertson smiled as he noticed the shelves were stocked with

pork and beans and large cans of Dinfield Miller beef stew.

“The winter crew knows how to eat well,” Tobias said.

“I am rather fond of it myself,” Mr. Robertson said.

Suddenly, he hunched over and grabbed his arm.

“What is it, boss?”

“Chest pain,” he muttered. “Hurts like a mother.”

Have you heard anything about this?” Emmy asked

carrying her laptop into the family room.

“About what?” Kenny asked. He poked the logs in the fireplace

and watched the orange flames.

“I was watching Greg Benton, and he’s talking about some virus

from China that’s showing up here in the states.”

Emmy held out her laptop. “Do you know anything about it?”

“I read something about people in China getting sick.”

“Apparently they’re dying, and now it’s spreading all over the globe.

“Does this illness have a name?” Kenny asked closing the fireplace doors.

Emmy listened for a moment. “He’s calling it the Corona Virus.”

“Like the typewriter,” Kenny said with a grin.

“Ha! Ha! This guy’s making it seem pretty serious.

Lots of people in China have died.”

“Thank you for helping,” Emmy said.

“I’m feeling tired. Would you mind if I take a little nap?”

“Go ahead, Mom.” Kevin said. “We’ll be quiet so you can sleep.

Should we wake you up if Uncle James comes over?”

“Yes, please do that.”

She went upstairs and didn’t wake up until a few minutes after six.

She came downstairs and found everyone, including Father James,

sitting in the breakfast nook eating the leftovers.

“Why didn’t anyone wake me?” she asked.

“I tried,” Kenny said. “I talked to you and rubbed your… arm,

but you just moaned and turned over.

I thought you needed to sleep more than see us.”

“I feel a lot better now.”

Kevin tapped Father James on the arm.

We think Mom has the corona.”

The “Emmy’s Story” series begins when Emmy is

four-years-old and quickly progresses to focus

on her teen years and beyond.

In this book, “God Is In Control: Emmy’s Story, Part 18,”

Emmy deals with the difficulties of a world wide pandemic.

Other recently released books.

You were so quiet tonight, Tuck. I was afraid you were mad at me.”

I wasn’t mad at you, Carrie. I didn’t know if you would like my present.”

You always get me the perfect gift. How could I not love it?”

She looked into his eyes and smiled.

He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy birthday, Tarry.”

He hadn’t called her Tarry since they were little kids.

He turned to leave, and she followed him to the door.

She leaned against it after he left.

He hurried to the elevator because he didn’t want anyone to see him crying.

“Shoot! Why didn’t I tell him to stay?”

She opened the door and sprinted after him, but it was too late.

The elevator door closed.

“Open! Come on open!” She stabbed the button repeatedly.

When it didn’t, she ran back to her room and wept for several minutes.

I hope I didn’t ruin this dress.”

She took it off and hung it back in the closet.

She had just closed the closet door when the phone rang.

She bounded to her desk, yanked her cell phone

from her purse and answered before the second ring.

Oh, Bubby, I’m sorry,” she cried.

Who’s Bubby?” Jeremiah asked.

Someone special,” she answered.

The second book set in Stockton Woods

continues to examine the lives of the

people who call this Midwestern town home,

but with the complications of life in college.

Doug, can you see where you’re going in this rain?”

Barbara Dawson peered through the windshield.

It’s not that bad. I’ve driven this road a million times.

Douglas Dawson patted her hand to reassure her.

Did you enjoy yourself tonight, Barb?

I know you’re disappointed Jim and Sarah couldn’t come.”

I still had a good time,” she answered.

The lightning flashed again.

Followed immediately by a thunderous boom.

Doug’s night vision momentarily vanished.

That was close! I could feel the wheel shake.”

Maybe we should pull over,”

We can’t. There isn’t any shoulder.”

More lightning sizzled through the humid air,

and the thunder clapped simultaneously.

I don’t feel good about this. I’ve never liked this hill.”

We’ll be home soon.”

Once again the lightning exploded.

The thunder reverberated and shook the small car.

That was too close for comfort.” Douglas pointed.

Are those headlights on the…”

Welcome to Stockton Woods. This book introduces us

to the characters who live… and die…

in this small Midwestern town.



Kenneth Lee McGee is the pen name of Ken McGee. Ken was born in a small town in Southern Illinois in 1952. Both parents taught in the local schools. The family moved to the suburbs of Chicago in the early sixties. McGee enjoyed writing at an early age, but the talent remained dormant and undeveloped for over forty years. He married his high school sweetheart in 1973, worked for a grocery retailer for over thirty years and then retired. He enjoyed sports as a youth and that continued into adulthood. He played basketball in various leagues until he realized he couldn’t compete with the younger players. He found the sport of cycling, joined a local bike club and even joined a racing team. Along the way he and his wife raised a son and daughter.

A few years later, he found his true role. He became a grandfather. Now that he had the time, he resumed writing. He wrote short stories about lost lonely lions, kitty cats who could speak, and puppies who didn’t know their own strength for his granddaughter. Over the years more grandchildren were born. McGee decided to write a story about two kids growing up in the fictional city of South Hampshire. The book turned into the Emmy’s Story series and even the spin-off Annie Mercer O’Dell books. He continues to write under the name Kenneth Lee McGee and credits WriteOn Joliet for teaching him the skills to become a better author. McGee and his wife of forty-five years live in the Plainfield, Illinois, area, are active in their local church and spend many hours indulging their grandchildren.


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