When his wife left him, Sam Martin decided that New York was too crowded and full of bad memories, so he decided to move out west. He bought a huge but inexpensive farm, near a small town called Gateway in Wyoming. Gateway was not on any map, so he knew that he would find the solitude that he desperately needed. Upon his arrival, he noted that the small town was stuck in the 1930’s, not to mention a few other quirks that mystified him. Coming from a farming background, he relished the opportunity to sow his own fields and live an uncomplicated farm life for the rest of his days.
A strange black rock jutted out from the middle of the field. It had writing upon it, so he thought that it might be a strange monument to a past farmer of these fields. One night, while admiring the splendor of what he’d accomplished the previous day, he noticed people hovering around the black rock. They stood upon it and then vanished within it. He ran to the rock, but no one was there. Many other oddities occurred to Sam—the town didn’t have a cemetery; there were no modern appliances, modern cars or electricity. Sam navigates these mysteries to find the answers he needs and to determine, whether or not, he owned the Gateway to heaven or hell.
“Oh, he’s a nice guy all right, but he’s different from you and me. Everyone in town is different from you and me, including Loryn.” “What are you talking about, Rusty?” “Something is preventing me from telling you what I know. I’m afraid that I won’t be around much longer. They found out that, my memory is intact, and that they haven’t fully assimilated me into their society. These fields are evil. People leave here, and where they go, I haven’t a clue.” “I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Rusty, do you know a George Johnson?” Shocked at the question, Rusty tried to make a hasty retreat. “I have to go, Sam. No more questions. They are telling me to leave.” “Leave? Who’s telling you to leave?” He grabbed Rusty’s coat and yelled at him, demanding that he tell him who told him to leave. “Tell me, dammit!” Sam felt a stinging pain in his hands as he grabbed Rusty’s coat and the pain persisted well after he let go. “Are you doing this, Rusty?” he probed as he grabbed his hands. Rusty straightened his coat. “Nope, not me. You ask too many questions, and I offered too much information. If I don’t see you again, good-bye.”
A prolific writer, Gary D. Henry is an award-winning author who has penned twenty novels and touts several works-in-progress. Specializing in the field of horror and mystery, Henry is not shy about blending other genres into the mix. Averaging two to four releases a year, Henry's first publication came in September 2009 with the release of The Westward Journey of the Nebraskan Wind. Since then, several of his books have gone on to win awards, such as: Opulence Among Us, Honorable Mention at the 2012 Los Angeles Book Festival—DIY award; Legacy of the Unsung, First Place in the 2011 Halloween Book Festival—Time Travel Category; Falling Waters, Honorable Mention in the both the 2012 Paris Book Festival Award—General Fiction Category and the 2012 Beach Book Festival Award in New York; and the Abel Conspiracy, Honorable Mention in both the 2012 San Francisco Book Festival Award—General Fiction Category and the 2012 The Halloween Book Festival Award—General Fiction Category. Recently, Henry has dipped his pen in the genre of short stories after being compelled to write a story about Alzheimer's Disease, which claimed the life of his father Ray Henry.
Previously, Henry's career spans twenty-three years in the environmental field and an additional twenty years as a government defense contractor, where he continues to work and where he discovered his knack for writing. As a technical writer for many years, he has written countless reports regarding testing procedures and testing results presented to government agencies for review and acceptance.
Among Henry's writing habits is the playing of old movies in the background, which nudges his subconscious so the words can flow. He is single and lives in Sterling, Virginia, where he has lived most of his life.
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Marta Moran Bishop, writes in a number of genres. Some of them are almost prophetic, some will take us back into the past or into our childhood.