A teaser from my upcoming pro-wrestling themed short story “Hells Go to Hell” The roar of […]
Small Things, my best-selling debut dark fantasy novel, is on sale for the next several hours […]
Authors’ Cave Grand Launch Festival Blog Train Welcome to the Authors’ Cave Blog Train! You are cordially […]
Carthage, Illinois
As a lot of you know, I grew up in the “real” Carthage, Illinois, the same small […]
Subscribe to Joe's Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. (No spamming, I promise)

Join 2,358 other subscribers
From Joe's writing

Fred Ruskin sat by himself at a table in the back of the Peacock, the seediest bar that Carthage had to offer. Tonight he didn’t care who saw him drinking. The twang of Merle Haggard singing ‘Things Aren’t Funny Anymore’ drifted across the room from the old jukebox in the corner. ‘Ain’t that the truth,’ mumbled Ruskin, raising his glass in a silent toast to the music.

— Small Things, Chapter 21