Bill, a recovering Viet Nam Vet, tries to find his place in the civilian world by traveling across country on his motorcycle. He ends up settling in beautiful Rocheport, Missouri, right on the Katy Trail. A woman, Elizabeth, comes to the same small, rural, river town to escape . . . . . 

Love Blooms in Rocheport


This anthology of murders in Nodaway County, by authors Don Nothstine and Susan Cronk, includes ten synopses of murders of particular interest between 1872 and 1931. Also included is a brief history of the "squirrel cage" rotary jail which was constructed and used in Maryville, Missouri during this time frame. Enjoy!


Dr. Zebulon McKee, Doc to those who know him well and look up to him not only as their doctor but also a leader of the community, is a former civil war medical officer whose battlefield experience, compounded by unresolved conflict with his deceased father, leads to tragedy.  Though a hero to most in northwest Missouri, Doc couldn't resist heavy-handed control of the family some thought ultimately murdered him. Even in death, however, it is he who continues to drive the actions of his family, which eventually leads to unintended consequences and an ending that is impossible to forget.

This fictionalized account of a true story of murder, secrets, and greed will have you hanging on every word as the story unfolds through courtroom drama and family tragedy to its immutable conclusion.

Coming Attractions!

Died Innocent

by Don Nothstine


Published by 

WHAT?  Could Don Nothstine be writing a romance?  . . . and about senior citizens, no less! . . . STAYED TUNED!

A fun story!

Carol Wong, President of Don's California fan club, says . . . "Traveling, like most things in life, goes better with a good book!"

I’ll never forget the day I answered a beckoning from the tiny cemetery plot on a distant hillside.  After years of not heeding its call, there was something different that unseasonably warm, summer afternoon.  Maybe curiosity finally exceeded life’s more common demands . . . maybe that day, I simply had more time.  Or, just maybe, what for years had been summoning me, finally refused to be ignored . . .