Tennessee Justice

About the Book

This is about good people that are done wrong by evil people. But the evil people get what they have coming usually without a Judge or Jury. Karen was driving on a narrow country road. It was late in the fall. It was a cold rain. Soon it was raining harder and she slowed to forty. There wasn’t much traffic on that road so she was OK. Then one came up behind her fast making it hard to see. She wished that one was in front of her instead of behind. Her wish was about to come true however because the driver started around her in a blind curve. Then what was not supposed to happen did. They met a car. As she looked to the left, all she could see was green, a very particular color, a light florescent green, so bright in the evening rain. As the driver floored the dually, trying to get around, she heard it real plain. A hot rod diesel. The driver took her out rather than hit the oncoming car head on. She went down a bank and centered a big oak tree. She ended up down where nobody could see her. She stayed most of the night not knowing weather she will bleed to death or freeze to death. Either way she was going to die. Then two paramedics came just in time before she passes out for the second time. She awoke to find herself on the floor of the ambulance. Then she began to wonder about these paramedics. She remembered smelling beer on one of them. Now she is on the floor They didn’t even strap me to the gurney. Soon she realized there was no gurney, this was no ambulance but a work van. She was laying among power tools, saws, drills and the like. She had to get out of that van, whenever they stop for gas or something . . . . But they didn’t stop. She was with them what ever and where ever.

About the Author

Marvin Hobson has been a mechanic all his life but friends know him as a tree surgeon. He played guitar and sang while still in school. He was fortunate enough to go to the Nashville Auto-Diesel college, where else but Nashville where everybody has a guitar and lived in a boarding house where everybody there had guitars too. They would go to the Grand Ole Opry nearly every Saturday night. Then home to jam until daylight. After college he did Hootenannies every weekend and ran a garage during the week. After Nashville, he figured he knew as much about music as fixing cars. After running a garage a while and people going to pay him Saturday and not telling him which Saturday, he realized he was not making much money. In fact he is still waiting on some of those Saturdays. So he got a job at Vulcan which he said was the best job he ever had. He worked there until Uncle Sam sent for him. They drafted back then and one went whether a body wanted to go or not. Speaking of a body, that’s the way some came back. That’s not the way one wants to come back from the war. After the war, the tree business was good and one could make money easy in about anything then. So he became a tree surgeon. Later he took two units of Machine Shop and two units of Auto Body at Surrey Community College. When he got so he couldn’t do psychical work any more, he kept on writing. He continued to write songs even tho he didn’t sing any more. Then at the advice of an instructor, he took a course in Creative Writing under Stratford and finally he started writing books.