1.)   Quickly, give us the title and genre of your book and a 30-word or less tagline:

My novel is entitled TURNING BACK THE CLOCK; the genre is sports sci-fi

“Two Red Sox fans go back in time to stop the sale of Babe Ruth to the Yankees.”

2.)   Who is your favorite character and why?

In this novel, I like the protagonist, Greg Patterson. Greg is very driven, very intelligent and very rich. He wants to make sure the Red Sox don’t trade Babe Ruth to the Yankees, and he’ll do anything and spend any amount of money to reach his means.

3.)   If you could change ONE thing about your novel, what would it be?  Why?

Probably the cover. It’s a very plain, red cover with the title. If I had the talents with which to change the cover, I would.

4.)   Give us one interesting fun fact about your book or series:

I wrote this book in five weeks. :)

5.)   How can we contact you or find out more about your books?

http://www.johnfitchv.com/ is my web site. I also blog on LiveJournal, and I can be found daily on Kindleboards.com.

6.)   What can we expect from you in the future? 

LOTS! I’ll release my next fantasy novel this fall, my next sports novel this winter, and a YA novel next summer. Loads coming from my desk, I assure you.

7.)   And now, before you go, how about a snippet from your book that is meant to intrigue and tantalize us:

“Are you going to let your eggs get cold? We have about 45 minutes to eat before Frazee gets to the park,” Brandon said, and after a few seconds of not getting a reply, he reached over and thumped Greg on the forehead.

“Sorry,” Greg apologized as his attention came back to where it should have been. “I was distracted.”

“You’re in love,” Brandon returned quickly, “and don’t deny it.”

Greg didn’t say anything at first, but the slight flush in his cheeks gave him away. He started to eat, keeping his eyes on his plate. Brandon started to eat too, but kept looking at his friend until he confessed.

When they were finished, Greg paid the $2.25 for both of them, and as he took the change from Tanya, she blushed as her hand touched his. They both pulled their hands away as if burned, but as Greg looked into her green eyes, he knew it was more like lightning had pierced both of them.

Once back into the frigid, December air, Brandon fixed a stare at his friend as he tried to draw a response from earlier. But Greg wasn’t budging.

At the next corner, Greg looked around and tried to find a street sign that would tell them where they were. Then he looked up the street and saw a familiar façade that he had first laid eyes on in 1986 at the age of eight, when his father had taken him to his first Red Sox game. He quickly became a fan of the building’s quirks and the team that called it home for 74 years. At that point, Greg had never thought to join any groups that wanted to save the stadium; he was there to enjoy a professional baseball game and cared not for the talk of a new ballpark for the Boston American League franchise.

It was Fenway Park, and they were standing on the corner of Boylston and Jersey Streets. A car was pulling up to the front of the building, and a portly gentleman with a black overcoat was slowly getting out of the back of the automobile. Greg wasn’t completely sure, but he had a feeling he knew who that was.

With a nod, the two friends made the turn and walked toward the old ballpark.

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