Goran Tells The Story
​'Goran K King' is a refreshingly literate voice in a room often echoing with the mediocre. His writing flows with knowing ease, and his images are both new and entertaining; 'I’d rather french-kiss a rattlesnake,' 'coke bottle lenses'. The humor is never forced, and his characters move the narrative forward with splendid dialogue and wonderful activity. Underscoring the apparent simplicity is an informed ability to capture the reader's imagination... and to hold it. This is an impressive addition to the genre.”
Author Mark McKirdy
At winter's end, Casey was sure that his transgression of Halloween past was all but forgotten by everyone… except, perhaps, Dammit on whom the transgression was perpetrated. Now, choosing an adversary, intentionally, of Dammit’s magnitude in itself is evidence of indulging in a really bad case of the stupids. But to call out his name prior to launching the blockbuster that rocked the neighborhood? Well... You decide. Join Casey and Tim in an adventurous summer of discovery and wonder as they are brushed by puberty, occasioned by a case of the stupids as young boys tend to be, and constantly indulging in curiosities that lead to all manner of circumstances, both pleasurable and tragic...
For the next hour, the boys crawled around in the dark whispering in gruff voices as menfolk do while pursuing such manly stuff as trout fishing bait.
Casey considered himself one of the menfolk because he found his first armpit hair last night by the lamp at the top of the staircase. That was darn near unheard of for a thirteen-year-old, even if he was near six feet tall. Well… five foot eight was close. Casey shot down the stairs and strutted around with his chest so puffed up he could barely see over it. Mr. Chips jumped up and down, yapping and barking out his excitement. Why, everyone in the family had to stop what they were doing just to admire it.
“That can’t be a hair,” his brother PJ said. “Let me see.” Of course, being a year older than Casey and as bald-pitted as a six-year-old girl, PJ tried to snatch it out.
Grammy pushed her spectacles from the tip of her nose with a gentle but crooked index finger. “Land sakes alive, young’un. Next thing ya know, you’ll be strapping a razor with the best of ‘em.” She held the back of her hand to her face to conceal her amusement.
Casey’s big sister, Shelly, smirked. “You’re nasty, Casey Raymond. You might spare us any future outcroppings.”
Casey’s little sister Patty was also disgusted, much to his delight.
If that was disgusting, it’s just as well they weren’t in the pasture with the Casey and Tim tonight...
​CHAPTER TWO: Orphans in a tree… A closer look told the gruesome story. Several bullet holes shattered the entrance to the racoon nest...
When he got to the ledge, Casey wasn’t surprised to find the swing rope hanging straight down and out of reach. It pointed to the evidence of an earlier encounter.
By the time Casey heard PJ clear his throat, it was too late. He turned just in time to see a cow pie on a direct collision course with his face.
No time to duck. SPLAT!
Casey staggered to the cliff’s edge and windmilled his arms, trying vainly to regain his balance.
He heard PJ say, “You can flap your wings all ya want. Doubt you’ll ever get off the ground.” PJ leaned against the granite wall with his shoulder while inspecting his cuticles looking quite innocent.
Down… Down… Down Casey fell as though the ten feet were an eternity.
​CHAPTER FOUR: Sometimes Avoiding Certain Death Stinks…
​CHAPTER SIX: A Crypt, Open Graves, and a Wide-Eyed PJ …
​CHAPTER NINE: A Bad Case of the Stupids… Casey’s shaking hand reached for the whiskey bottle. It looked harmless enough, glittering in the campfire’s glow. Its green glass and bright yellow label adorned with a clipper ship made him wish he could climb inside and sail to some distant land…
​CHAPTER ELEVEN: Bo Jennings and his magic fiddle… a scrawny old man with a face full of white hair in a tan shirt and brown overalls gave the appearance of a dandelion gone to seed...
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Although the lantern emanated enough light for Casey to see in front of him, the lantern failed to illuminate the vastness of the inner cavern. Casey saw no walls, no ceiling or floor, nothing but darkness. He put his hand over the edge to pull himself a few inches closer, but his hand clutched something, and he pulled it free. It was a boot. Did he see a flash of denim...
