John Harold McCoy

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I live in St. Petersburg, Florida. I love it here. There are dolphins in the bay and parrots in the palm trees. There are miles of beautiful gulf beaches teaming with luscious young snow bunnies, and cool, dark bars where you can guzzle margarita's while hiding from the mid-day sun.
I write, read, eat, drink and sleep... and kick George (ill-tempered mutt) for crapping in the house. The four wives have all run off somewhere so I don't have to take out the garbage till I'm good and ready, and the kids find me boring and stay away - till they need something.
I'm quite happy.
When I was 10, or so, I spent a few summers with my grand parents on their small farm just a few miles from Bramwell, West Virginia. In the town, across the street from what I remember as a big scary looking house made of stone, was a drug store. There were candy jars on the soda fountain counter and comic books on a whirling rack. The strawberry sodas from the fountain were the best in the world - I thought.
A few doors down the street from the drugstore was the Bramwell Theater - the only movie theater for many miles around.
That little town, in its little valley, was the inspiration for this book. I like to think the characters I've created truly haunt Bramwell Valley, or at least my hazy memory of it. They fit so well there.