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I just know you’ve all been waiting for the good news, and here it is: my editor says Hot Pursuit is going to press later in May. That’s like any week now! When I get a precise date, I’ll let you know, but it is definitely getting close. This book is a sequel to Cold Pursuit, but (so I’ve been told) even more fun. It is set in Jackson Hole (just over the pass from Heaven on Earth)(but Jackson is pretty darn gorgeous in its own right).

Speaking of the town just into Idaho (where a couple of scenes also take place), my great-grandfather homesteaded that area. In those days it took two days in the winter to travel over the pass to Jackson. Now traffic slows on the icy roads and it takes 45 minutes. Unless you’re from the area, then it takes 30. My grandpa and my dad grew up there. It’s a place where legends begin.

When my grandpa was a young boy, he thought he’d figured out how to fly. Before I go any further, I suppose it’s only fair to warn you that this story grows with each telling and I take after my dad when it comes to embellishing. But the basic truth is there.

Now Grandpa knew wings were needed and well, chickens had wings. So he grabbed two big ones from his papa’s chicken yard, and holding them by the feet, climbed up a ladder to the ridge of the barn. (I’m not absolutely sure about the barn part, but if it was the chicken coop, there’s no way I’m adding that to the story.)Free Range

barnThere, with that narrow peak between his feet, I wonder if he considered that, though chickens fly, (at least 3-4 feet) you never look up and say, “Oh, look, a flock of chickens flying by.” Did he consider there was a reason they were so easy to catch? At any rate, after a deep breath, with a chicken in each hand, he jumped.

I have a lot of my Grandpa in me.