Jason Jack Miller
Jason Jack Miller knows it's silly to hold onto the Bohemian ideals of literature, music, and love above all else. But he doesn't care.
His own adventures paddling wild mountain rivers and playing Nirvana covers for less-than-enthusiastic crowds inspired his novels THE DEVIL AND PRESTON BLACK, HELLBENDER, and THE REVELATIONS OF PRESTON BLACK, published by Raw Dog Screaming Press as part of his MURDER BALLADS AND WHISKEY series. He is a creative writing adjunct at Seton Hill University, where he also mentors in the school's prestigious Writing Popular Fiction MFA program. Jason is a member of the Authors Guild and International Thriller Writers. He lives just outside of Pittsburgh with his wife, Heidi, and a cat. His blog is http://jasonjackmiller.blogspot.com. Tweet him @jasonjackmiller.
“Henry,that's how you get rid of fleas. You keep them from laying eggs. You go to war with them.”
“Nothing else in the whole wide world matters as much as avenging your sister.”
“Yeah, but a hellbender never dies. You ever see a dead one?”
“May your glass always be full, may there always be a roof over your head, and may you dirty sinners be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows you're dead.”
“It's Coke, my man. You really think I'm going to let you pour any more alcohol into your body tonight?”
“Music lets you write your own checks. Don't ever forget that.”
“We're all Hitler inside. We're all Christ inside. I'm not keen on the idea, but it's true, isn't it? We've all got a little bit of the devil in us.”
“I'm sure you have drawers overflowing with panties the ladies throw at the stage. We saw you guys play down at Mon Brewing a few times. Way to keep the Nineties alive.”
“Preston Black couldn't sleep the whole night through, Preston Black couldn't sleep the whole night through. He'd lay in bed 'til the morning came, but the devil'd visit him just the same. Preston Black couldn't sleep the whole night through.”
“You are not a handgun. More like a pellet gun. Maybe even a slingshot.”
“Here's how I'll tell you what I think—if you see white smoke then you know I picked a new pope. And if I'm drinking a Snapple then you know I don't give a shit.”