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Russell Heath

Russell Heath

Heath hitchhiked to Alaska in his teens. He's climbed mountains, snow-shoed frozen rivers, and shared campfires with friendly whiskey jacks. He writes with a deep love of the north country.

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If Rinn's Crossing hits 500 pre-orders by Sunday 16 December 2018 5 A.M. UTC, then it will be pitched to 7 traditional publishers when the campaign ends. If Rinn's Crossing hits 250 pre-orders by Sunday 16 December 2018 5 A.M. UTC, then it will be pitched to 42 independent publishers when the campaign ends. If Rinn's Crossing hits 100 pre-orders by Sunday 16 December 2018 5 A.M. UTC, then it will be pitched to 36 hybrid publishers when the campaign ends. If Rinn's Crossing hits 50 pre-orders by Sunday 16 December 2018 5 A.M. UTC, then it will be pitched to 29 service publishers when the campaign ends. If Rinn's Crossing hits 500 pre-orders by Sunday 16 December 2018 5 A.M. UTC, then it will be pitched to 114 publishers when the campaign ends.
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Rinn's Crossing

A Novel

Three friends, once united by their love of Alaska and a good fight, betray each other as the epic forces ripping apart Alaska force them to choose sides.

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Thriller #1 in Thriller
Steuben, Maine
132,000 words
100% complete
4 publishers interested


One Alaskan night, Rinn van Ness commits a minor felony.  He sabotages a Native Corporation logging a remote bay where he and the woman he left but still loves once lived. Kit Olinsky, Rinn’s former love, is arrested for the crime and a murder she didn’t commit. Kit is the environmental activist charged with stopping a timber bill offered as red meat to legislators in return for their votes for a constitutional amendment. The amendment would protect the very heart of the Native Alaska way of life. Dan Martin, Alaska Native, CEO of the Native Corporation driven to near bankruptcy by Rinn’s minor felony was once Rinn’s best friend. Now Kit’s secret lover, Dan struggles not to betray his love in his fight for the amendment—an amendment promised Natives when Alaska became a state. Senator Billy Macon, bloodied once by Kit, manipulates Alaska’s grimy politics with vindictive mastery on his drive to the governor’s mansion. Unseen, like a lone wolf, Rinn comes down from the mountains to hunt for the murderer never suspecting that the stakes are far higher than a lonely prison cell.


Plot 1: Jacob Haecox is murdered. Kit is charged with the crime. Rinn must get the murder charges against Kit, a woman he still loves, dropped without going to prison for his minor felony—a night of ecotage against Tlikquan’s logging operation. He plants evidence to clear her. Barrett, a rogue detective, discovers it was planted and suspects Rinn. On the run from the cop and a shadowy Native tracking him with a deeply serrated fish knife, Rinn uncovers evidence implicating Dan in the murder. He breaks into Dan’s house to confront him—and finds Kit in his bed.

Plot 2: Kit, a lobbyist, out on bail for Jacob’s murder, has to stop a rapacious timber bill pushed by the most powerful man in the Alaska state senate. To stop it, she must kill a constitutional amendment protecting the core of Native life. She can’t win, but Rinn, leveraging her lost love, forces her deep into the muck of Alaska politics. She struggles to manipulate one man who loves her and another who loathes  her in order to delay the vote—for one more day.

Plot 3: Kit lost Rinn by having a child—Rinn didn’t want kids. She longs for him, but, after years of waiting, falls in love with Dan. Fighting each other politically, they are forced to keep their love secret. Then Rinn returns and again she is seduced by his wildness. But Kit has a secret and, if she tells him—he will run again.

Plot 4: Dan made an unholy political bargain so that his tribe could receive lands as other Native tribes had. Now CEO of Tlikquan, he is forced to fight for bills, including the one Kit needs to stop, that were cynically designed to buy off legislators who oppose the amendment. Desperately, he fights for the amendment; for Tlickquan, the company he built; and for Kit. As each slips away from him, Kit accuses him of the murder. He denies it, but realizes who did kill Jacob Haecox—a person closer to him than any other.

Plot 5: Rinn, the mountain man, wants to come in from the wild—but he doesn't know how and it’s the most frightening thing he has ever done.


There are four major audiences for Rinn’s Crossing. 

First: Almost two million people travel to Alaska each year. Most by cruise ship. The cruise ships all have book stores on board and they deliver their passengers to the down towns of Alaska towns and villages that also have bookstores. Alaska literature—especially genre—is eagerly consumed. Because the millions of tourists are new each year, Alaska-themed books have a tremendously long shelf-life. 

Second: Alaska is an adventure. People who have visited there have a more vibrant connection to it than they do other places they may have visited. There are now tens of millions of Americans who have visited Alaska. And there are also people who dream of going to Alaska, who haven’t yet. Both populations would be interested in a deeply Alaskan story.

Third: Rinn’s Crossing is a mystery and a thriller—and it is a ripping read. It will appeal who people who enjoy good genre reading. 

Fourth: People who like deeply crafted, well-written, and intellectually engaging books. This is the audience for whom I wrote Rinn’s Crossing. The story’s plots are intricate, engrossing, and plot-hole-free; the characters complex, varied, and struggling with real-world issues; the prose is finely honed, beautiful at times and driving at other times; and the novel is drenched in Alaska—Alaska is not a backdrop, it is a character. This book is for people who like literary-quality prose and characters but who also want to be hurtled through a story. 


In his teens, Russell Heath hitchhiked to Alaska and lived in a cabin on the banks of the Tanana River; in his twenties, he lived in Italy and then traveled overland across the Sahara, through the jungles and over the savannas of Africa and into southern Asia; in his thirties, he sailed alone around the world in a 25-foot wooden boat; in his forties, he wrote novels; and in his fifties he bicycled the spine of the Rockies from Alaska to Mexico. He’s worked on the Alaska Pipeline, as an environmental lobbyist in the Alaska Legislature, and run a storied environmental organization fighting to protect Alaska’s coastal rainforests. Several years ago, he moved to New York City to dig deep into leadership development and coaching. He now coaches business and non-profit leaders intent on making big things happen in the world. He lives in a remote cabin on the rocky coast of Maine, chopping wood and hauling water.


I am prepared to mount a multi-front campaign to market Rinn’s Crossing. 

Lists: I have extensive networks of personal and professional contacts in Alaska, New York City, and Maine, which can be accessed via email, Facebook, and LinkedIn. Unduplicated list is approximately 2000 people. 

Kirkus Reviews, Publisher’s Weekly, etc.: Novel professionally reviewed.

Website: Pre-publication, put up a Rinn’s Crossing website. On publication, generate traffic to it via Facebook and Twitter campaigns. 

Book blogs and newspaper reviews: Research blogs, radio, and newspapers and send them pre-publication copies for review. 

Competitions: Research award competitions and submit pre-publication copies. 

Social media: Establish a Rinn’s Crossing Facebook page and generate a network with other mystery, thriller, Alaska authors and readers. On publication, I will post frequently on both the Rinn’s Crossing page and my personal page. Also on Facebook, I will run periodic advertisements offering discounted prices. 

Genre book stores: Prior to publication, generate a nation-wide list of genre book stores and, on-publication, send them marketing information and follow up with phone calls. 

Promote to leading librarians as well as doing targeted outreach to the Alaskan library system.  As one of the few sales channels where sales are made nonreturnable, getting Rinn's Crossing on to the radar of librarians and the admins who buy for libraries is a great sales channel.  

Research both Thrillerfest and Bouchercon to determine how best to utilize their large networks.  Campaign to get on a panel at the conventions.

write and place pieces about the themes of the book – politics, environment, Alaska, in key media outlets in the lead up to publication.

Email: Launch a monthly, year-long campaign to my list. 

Amazon: Keep a list of all people that I know have purchased the book and periodically remind them to post a review on Amazon (and Goodreads). Once the book has enough reviews, run periodic ad campaigns on Amazon—including reduced price campaigns for the Kindle version.

Speaking: In the spring of 2018, I am initiating a speaking tour (not related to Rinn’s Crossing). I will have books for sale at the events. 

Alaska: The best place to sell the novel—I will organize a bookstore speaking tour early in the tourist season. In Alaska, I can easily generate earned media coverage on radio and in print. 


There are now many writers writing Alaska themed mysteries, adventure stories, and stories of living in the bush. I break the competition into two categories:

Genre: Three popular Alaska mystery writers are Sue Henry, Dana Stabenow, and John Straley. These are good fun reads. However, the works of all three are lightly plotted, formulaic, and rife with inanities (Straley’s books can only be read as farces). Characters are flat, even by genre standards. Critically, each of these authors use Alaska as a stereotyped prop and don’t give the reader any sense of its culture or the challenge of living in the state. They are also full of Alaska inaccuracies—which is odd, given that all three are Alaskan. 

Literary: Two acclaimed novels illustrate the literary talent Alaska is nurturing. The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey and Ordinary Wolves by Seth Kantner. The first is a fable whose power is drawn from the relationship between a husband and wife when a fantastical girl arrives at their homestead. The second is a work of extraordinary “Alaskaness.” Few books so convey what it means to live in the Alaska bush. The story is heart-breaking and bleak—Alaska is being destroyed, one wolf at a time. 

Rinn’s Crossing could not have happened anywhere else—it is marinated in Alaska. Unlike the popular mysteries, the plot is complex, tightly plotted, character driven, and the ending, unlike many mysteries, emotionally and logically follows from the events preceding it. Although written well, Rinn’s Crossing engages at a more visceral level than do Alaska’s literary masterpieces. 


Ralph, his numbers guy, opened Macon’s office door and stuck his head in. “Kit Olinsky would like to talk to you,” he said.

There was a round of laughter.

“Later,” Macon said.

“Probably wants a job with the Macon administration,” Mike Stafford, the senate majority leader, said.

The senate president, the majority leader, and his co-chair of finance sat around his coffee table in their shirtsleeves killing time. They were men he’d worked with for years. They’d climbed up the hierarchy of Alaska politics together. They’d done good work for the state: built roads, schools, kept the state fiscally sound. They’d be good allies when he was governor.

Ralph poked his head in again. “These tree-huggers are damn pushy.” He handed Macon a folded business card. Macon unfolded it. On its printed side, it said, in green ink: Kit Olinsky, Executive Director. Alaska Environmental Lobby. He turned it over. In a neat, precise hand written in black ink was: Mark Baker.

Macon stared at the name long enough for the other men in the office to notice and fall silent.

“Gentlemen,” he said. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

“She’d be hot on the third floor if you could do something about her tits.”


“Tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“My office, men,” said the senate president. “Where we can stiffen these Cokes.”

They filed out. Macon rose and moved to sit behind his desk. Ralph showed Olinsky in, shutting the door behind her. He watched her walk into the room. Her eyes were bloodshot and threaded with stress. It must be the murder charge getting to her. She should be having the time of her life jacking the Alaska Legislature around.

She pulled several sheets of paper out of a folder and laid them on his desk. He glanced at them and then looked back up at her. “What does this have to do with me?” he asked. Sensor Security had assured him there would be no way to connect him to Baker if Baker were caught.

“Do you want to play games, senator?” she said. “Or do you want to make a deal?”

“You have nothing to make a deal with,” he said.

“No deal, and I post Baker’s files on our website.”

“If my name is associated with them, you and the Environmental Lobby will be sued for slander.”

“We’re not guessing, senator.” She stood before his desk in a white blouse. A pendant, a whale’s flukes in silver, hung from a chain around her neck. Her blue skirt flared over her hips before disappearing out of sight behind his desk. “We have your phone records.” She looked at him with a certainty in her expression that told Macon that she had what she needed to connect him to Baker.

“Kill the subsistence amendment in the house tomorrow,” she said. “And Baker’s files are yours.”

Macon held her eyes, his face giving nothing away. It might be doable—cut loose a single vote and the amendment would fail. But it would be the end of him. The senate leadership had seen Olinsky walk into his office. They could connect the dots. They’d cut his balls off if he blew up the special session, the story would get into the papers, and he’d have everyone in the state laughing at him: Billy Macon manipulated by sexy environmental lobbyist.

It’d end his race for governor.

Macon knew this instantly, instinctively. He looked into her red-shot eyes and saw there the smug gleam of triumph. She knew it too.

He stood and walked around his desk. She didn’t step back. He took her elbow and squeezed. She didn’t flinch, but she wasn’t strong enough to resist him, and he walked her backwards toward the sofa and forced her to sit. He stood in front of her, too close for her to stand, her head level with his groin.

“This is blackmail,” he said.

“Thank you for providing the material.”

Her insolence charged him. He restrained himself, keeping his voice cold.

“If you do this, you will be hurt. Not your issues, not your organization. You, your body, will be hurt.”

Fear flickered into her eyes. Flickered out. “You sound like a cliché, senator.”

He sat, sitting on the coffee table, his right knee between her legs, and put his hands on her knees, his thumbs on her thighs, pointing toward her sex. What did this girl know about heat?

He leaned into her. “You have a boy, don’t you?” Fear flickered in, stayed. He slid his hands an inch up her legs, bunching her skirt. Her thighs flexed as she pushed herself back into the cushions.

“Are you understanding me?” he said.

He didn’t see it coming. She slammed both palms into his chin. His head snapped back, his hands releasing her thighs. She leaped onto the sofa, but he swung his arm and caught her hand as she jumped over the sofa’s arm, and yanked her back. She fell backwards, landing hard in its cushions. Her skirt flipped up and he saw her black thatch under the panty hose, and he flashed with rage at what he couldn’t have.

She flicked her skirt down, struggled to her elbows in the soft cushions, and he leaned his hand against her chest until she collapsed back into the sofa, fear alive in her eyes, breathing harsh. She opened her mouth to scream and he slapped the heel of his hand over it. He sat hard next to her, like a doctor with a patient, pinning her hands under his hip and against the back of the sofa.

“You people…” he breathed.

Her eyes were fixed on his, ragged breaths rasping in and out of her nose.

A knuckle rapped the door. “Senator?”

“Later,” he said, hearing the pant of his breath in it. 

“You will give me those files,” he said.

She stared at him, and he saw the fear go out of her eyes. What was he going to do to her—with his staff in the outer office?

He leaned into the hand covering her mouth, pushing her head deeper into the cushions. “I came here broke,” he said. “With no fancy education, no rich parents—and I made it. On my own, no one helped me.” It was his story, and he’d been telling it to himself since he’d arrived in Alaska. It’d conditioned and shaped him and his politics and his love for this state. He knew it sounded trite, but every word was true.

“This is what Alaska used to be, the last place where a man could come and make a life for himself with nothing but his hands and his brains. This state’s rich with timber, gold, oil, gas—God’s gifts that could give hundreds of good jobs to average hardworking people so that they can have decent lives. But you people.” He struggled with this, so angry did it make him. “You people have turned this state into a no-touch fantasy land for over-privileged Sponge Bobs from California.”

He stopped. It was senseless to try and convince these people.

“Why aren’t they up here trying to make a living?” He took his hand away.

“Let me go,” she said.

“Who did you ever help? Who did you ever put to work—in an honest job?”

“Let me go.”

He stood and watched as she got off the sofa and smoothed her skirt, tucking in her blouse, capturing loose strands of hair and clipping them back into her hair piece. Her hands shook and her face was pale. Her lips thinned with anger.

“I want those files,” he said.

“You said it yourself, senator.” Her voice didn’t have enough air in it. “You made it on your own. Nobody helped you. I don’t see why I should be the first.” There was victory in her face, though she tried to hide it. “Your Abe Lincoln story is a lie. You only made it by breaking the law.” She looked at Baker’s papers lying on his desk.

“You self-righteous cunt.” He stepped toward her, and fear flashed back into her face before she controlled it. “Who the hell was it who plugged up my office so I couldn’t get any work done? Who jerked-off the legislative process? Who crapped all over the public’s will? My bill would’ve passed fair and square if you hadn’t played dirty.”

“I didn’t break any law,” she said.

“That’s the nihilistic hairsplitting you greenies have used to turn this state into a train wreck. You fucked with the public process because you weren’t getting your way. I wasn’t going to let it happen twice.”

She stared at him as if it’d never occurred to her that she was anything but a virtuous, hand-over-her-heart, American. It sickened him.

“Get out of here,” he said.


Kit stepped into the outer office and felt the eyes of Macon’s staff lance into her. She closed the door behind her, wondering what they’d heard, what they’d guessed, hoping that the humiliation she felt couldn’t be seen in her face. She said to the man who’d taken her card in, “I think your boss could use a drink.”

“He doesn’t drink,” he said.

“Even Kool-Aid would help.” She walked out into the Senate Finance Committee room, her heels echoing in the deserted chamber, her pace quickening when she entered the hallway, hurrying until she stumbled into the ladies’ room. She locked herself in a stall and collapsed on the toilet, her face in her hands, and felt the trembling that she’d had under control in the office overwhelm her. It was inconceivable that he’d been born into this world naked, helpless, and loved by a mother.

She sucked in air, trying to staunch the acid of fear that spread out from her belly. She sobbed once, stifled the next, breathed in ragged gasps, and let her body shake.

“Honey, are you OK?” a voice asked.

Kit started, then looked under the wall of the stall. A pair of fleshy calves rising out of beaten flats stood just outside.

“Yeah, cramps,” Kit said, her voice thin and gaspy.

“Oh, don’t I know it,” the woman said. “Forty years of cramps, five of hot flashes, and every one of those years you’re just getting warmed up when he gets his business done, rolls off you, and goes to sleep.” She laughed. “I hope you have kids, it’s the only thing that makes it worthwhile.”

She reached her hand under the stall and held out a small bottle of Aleve. “Here, honey.” She rattled the bottle.

“Thanks.” Kit took the bottle and the feet stepped away. A second later, the door opened and closed. She took two tablets, swallowing them dry, not because she needed them, but because they’d been given to her.

She left the stall, cleaned herself up in front of the mirror, and, when she’d finished, leaned on the sink to look into her eyes. Would he kill the amendment? Or would he play chicken—daring her to release the files? If she released them after the vote, it’d be obvious to anyone that she’d tried to manipulate the vote by blackmailing him. It’s what he’d accuse her of, and she’d have no defense. The press would be vicious. Her friends in the legislature would run from her. Patricia and her board would disown her. It would be unholy.

She dropped her head and looked into the sink. Fuck it. Fuck him.  She wasn’t backing down.

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The author hasn't added any updates, yet.

  • Christopher Anderson on Nov. 16, 2018, 4:04 a.m.

    For two years of being late to my appointments, three years of missed appointments altogether, and a year plus of a fascinating (and selfishly thrilling) different perspective on your work. I've admired your joie de vivre since i was 7 years old. Thank you.

  • Charles Dockery on Nov. 16, 2018, 5:26 a.m.

    Semper Fi

  • Cynthia Adams on Nov. 16, 2018, 11:46 a.m.

    Eager to read it Russell!

  • Alan Kane on Nov. 16, 2018, 2 p.m.

    When you are famous, remember us. Keep smiling!

  • dwayne shaw on Nov. 17, 2018, 1:35 a.m.

    good luck man. look forward to reading it.
    someday i will set foot (and set a hook) in AK

  • Brian Lowe on Nov. 17, 2018, 4:42 a.m.

    I wish you every success with your book - I have ordered 2 copies - Brian (aged 105)

  • G Edward Walsh on Nov. 17, 2018, 8:52 a.m.

    Look forward to reading this. Thanks!

  • Kathi Wineman on Nov. 17, 2018, 6:52 p.m.

    Thanks for the teaser! I'm in. Bizarre here with fires/smoke and still the sun is heavenly. Go figure. I miss the north terribly. Congrats on your engagement! Maybe July '19 is time for the next trip east. ox

  • kevin DOYLE on Nov. 18, 2018, 4:50 p.m.

    Eager to read this, Russell! Best of luck with it. Warm regards, K

  • Christine Dowler Evron on Nov. 18, 2018, 5:45 p.m.

    We'd like a famous author at the 50th reunion. Start making plans now. 😉

  • Polly Selin on Nov. 19, 2018, 3:52 a.m.

    can't wait to read your next book!!!

  • Alex Wilson on Nov. 19, 2018, 4:53 p.m.

    Good luck in finding a publisher!

  • Hallie Weiss on Nov. 19, 2018, 8:08 p.m.


  • Kim Heacox on Nov. 20, 2018, 1:52 a.m.

    Hey buddy, Melanie and I just ordered two hard copies of this puppy. We're excited to read it, and to follow what happens with your crowdsourcing campaign. I'll write you more in an email. All best, - Kim

  • David Secord on Nov. 20, 2018, 9:52 p.m.

    Looking forward to reading, and to our paths crossing again soon, Russell! Best regards from Salt Spring Island. Dave Secord

  • Gesele Scully on Nov. 21, 2018, 11:59 p.m.

    Fingers crossed for you! Happy Thanksgiving

  • Gretchen Bishop on Nov. 22, 2018, 11:28 p.m.

    Good luck Russel! Looking forward to reading it!

  • Jeff Beckley on Nov. 23, 2018, 1:12 a.m.

    Sorry I didn't get to this earlier Russell. I may be ordering more before your campaign is over. Happy Thanksgiving to YOU and your fiance! Love Jeff

  • Bernard Wostmann on Nov. 23, 2018, 2:18 a.m.

    Good to hear from you Russel. Looking forward to reading the book!

  • Robert Lindekugel on Nov. 23, 2018, 5:50 p.m.

    Howdy Russell! I look forward to reading Rinn's Crossing. Cheers!

  • Robert Doll on Nov. 24, 2018, 1:08 a.m.

    Russell, best wishes for this campaign. I'll write separately. Bob

  • Halli MacNab on Nov. 24, 2018, 2:02 a.m.

    Go Russell go! Here's to our untamed spaces!

  • Toby Wheeler on Nov. 24, 2018, 1:54 p.m.

    Good luck on this one Russell. Great to see a bit of what you are up to via website. Im hanging in Bishkek again this winter; where the air is foul but the mts are close. Not exactly thriving; nice to see that you appear to be. Will be back in AK in May. And what did one vulture say to the other vulture: Carrion.
    ciao toby

  • Emily Kane on Nov. 25, 2018, 2:47 a.m.

    Hi Russell! I look forward to reading both your books. Thanks for sending Broken Angels along too. I'm doing well and loving living in Juneau :)
    Hugs Emily

  • Ben Alexander on Nov. 25, 2018, 10:49 p.m.

    way to go Russell! i want to read this puppy. Ben

  • Liz Cheng on Nov. 26, 2018, 4:24 a.m.

    Best of luck. If you end up self-publishing, feel free to just send me an e-version. L

  • David Holt on Nov. 26, 2018, 4:48 a.m.

    Listening to Dylan's Nobel lecture. Talking about Moby Dick. Keep writing.

  • jeffrey Sauer on Nov. 27, 2018, 1:02 a.m.

    dude good to hear from you. 2 books ordered no missing covers right? sounds like cabin life AOK. Saw John Straley at a reading here couple weeks ago. best of luck Jeff

  • brita bishop on Nov. 27, 2018, 4:14 a.m.

    Good Luck Russell!

  • tim bristol on Nov. 27, 2018, 8:22 p.m.

    Keep Writing Russell!

  • Edwin Brush on Nov. 28, 2018, 6:53 p.m.

    Best wishes for a successful launch

  • Rodney Mueller on Nov. 28, 2018, 10:28 p.m.

    Keep Going!!! :)

  • David Audet on Nov. 29, 2018, 4:56 a.m.

    Are any of the characters based on my exciting Juneau personna??

  • Deborah Kapchan on Nov. 29, 2018, 12:26 p.m.


  • Chiye Azuma on Nov. 29, 2018, 11:25 p.m.

    Congratulations Russell! Looking forward to reading the book. hugs, Chiye

  • Leah Worrell on Nov. 30, 2018, 3:17 a.m.

    Best of luck Russell, what an exciting project! All the best, Leah

  • Anissa Berry on Dec. 1, 2018, 6:53 p.m.

    Hi Russell
    Looking forward to reading another gripping novel. I liked the first one
    Hope u are doing well. It sounds like you’ve been having winter in Maine not like us Alaskans

  • ROBERT CARBER on Dec. 1, 2018, 8:29 p.m.

    Have fun with it Russell, We are looking forward to it.
    butch and nancy

  • Morris Lambdin on Dec. 1, 2018, 8:37 p.m.

    It's gonna get shared to a bunch of AK friends today and Facebook too. Good luck.

  • V ance Sanders on Dec. 1, 2018, 8:39 p.m.

    I just ordered my 5 copies, Russell. I can't wait t read it, give it to my children as gifts, and to Bart and Julie Koehler. My very best, amigo.

  • zevi kramer on Dec. 2, 2018, 6:38 p.m.

    Russell is the real thing. It is my honor and privilege pre-order his new jam.

  • Linnea Todd on Dec. 3, 2018, 6:12 a.m.

    I wept during your Explorer's Club talk. When I read this book, will I weep then? Or are you going to have to read it aloud to me? -Nea

  • Mia Costello on Dec. 5, 2018, 2:56 a.m.

    I look forward to reading it!

  • Barbara Goodhue on Dec. 5, 2018, 10:11 a.m.

    Good Luck Russell with the campaign. Looking forward to reading Rinns Crossing xx

  • Jill Patterson on Dec. 5, 2018, 2:22 p.m.

    Best of luck on your new book, looking forward to reading Rinn's Crossing. Happy holiday to you and your family. Jill Patterson

  • Naomi Jacobs on Dec. 7, 2018, 5:20 p.m.

    good luck with the project!

  • olga yakovlev on Dec. 9, 2018, 4:16 a.m.

    Congrats on this amazing feat!! Can't wait to read it. And soo thrilled for you! Xo && miss you

  • Pamela Garcia on Dec. 9, 2018, 4:36 p.m.

    Steve and I wish you the best of luck and are looking forward to reading your book.

  • Carol Castle on Dec. 10, 2018, 12:28 a.m.

    Hope you are safe after the earthquake!

  • Steve Seley on Dec. 10, 2018, 12:41 a.m.

    Good luck on hitting the goal. When you hit Ketchikan next call we can get together.

  • Nathaniel Sawyer on Dec. 10, 2018, 1:48 a.m.

    Hello Russell, Best of luck with reaching your goal. I can't wait to read it!

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