One piece of paper stops your foreclosure. Then you get an honest cash offer.
No lowballs. Nobody offering you 60 cents on the dollar and calling it a favor.
You pay nothing. Not for the paper, not for the offer, not to me. Ever.
It starts with one honest conversation. No cost, no obligation, and nothing to sign.
Hi, I'm Chris Curry.
Licensed real estate broker since 1998. I've worked with 3,952 families. And I started fighting banks in 2008 — not as a strategy, but because one of them was coming after my own house.
Nobody was there for me that year. No one told me there were rules. No one told me what the paperwork could do, or how fast the clock actually moved, or that the people mailing me postcards were counting on me being too scared to do the math.
I lost that house.
I wish somebody had been there for me in 2008. That's the entire reason this page exists.
So here's what I do now, and it's two things:
One — I stop the foreclosure. One piece of paper, filed correctly and on time, forces your servicer to stop and review your file before they can sell your house. I build it for you. It costs you nothing.
Two — I get you an honest cash offer. Not one guy with a number. Several cash buyers, competing for your house. You pay nothing, you owe nothing, and if you don't like the number, you walk away and keep the paperwork.
Both of them start the same way: with one honest conversation. Not a pitch, not a script, not a pressure call. You tell me what's actually happening. I tell you the truth about your options, including the ones where I make nothing.
Dear Friend,
Let me tell you about two men who lived eleven houses apart on the same street.
I'll call them I Don't Know Bob and Make One Call Jack. You'll see why.
Same floor plan. Same builder. Both bought in 2017.
Both worked for the same contractor. Both got cut the same October.
Both fell four payments behind. Both got the notice with the sale date on it the same week.
Both had $210,750 of equity. I'm not rounding that.
Both got 19 postcards, 82 phone calls, and 93 text messages in 17 days.
Both had one investor's cash offer sitting on the kitchen counter. Same number on both.
Both were awake at 4:47 in the morning, scrolling in the bathroom so the light wouldn't wake their wife.
Jack made one phone call. Bob said I don't know.
That's the only difference. Everything after this is what it cost.
Six months later
Bob lost over two hundred thousand dollars — and he never made a single bad decision.
That's the part people get wrong about him. Bob wasn't careless. Bob was careful.
The offer on his counter was $249,000 on a house worth $415,000. He sat down with a legal pad and worked it out and said no.
He was right to say no. That offer was reaching for $166,000 of his money and calling itself a favor.
Then somebody offered him a conversation. Free. No obligation. And Bob said the two words that cost him everything:
I don't know.
I don't know if it's a scam. I don't know if I should tell her yet. I don't know if I have time. I don't know, let me think about it.
Every one of those sounded like the grown-up thing to say. Every one of them burned days off a clock he couldn't afford. And every day that clock ran, his options got smaller and the lowball got closer to being the only thing left.
The notice ran in the paper for five straight weeks with his address in it. The house went to auction. Nobody bid past what the bank was owed.
The $210,750 didn't get stolen by anybody in particular. It just stopped existing.
Bob never said yes to a bad deal. He just never said yes to a conversation.
Jack walked away with $192,000. Forty-one days from that call to the check.
Same house. Same bank. Same $249,000 offer sitting on his counter too.
The difference is Jack picked up the phone, and it cost him nothing to find out.
We had an honest conversation. Not a pitch. Fifteen minutes. I asked what he owed, what he thought the house was worth, and what the notice actually said. He asked me how I get paid. I told him.
Nothing was signed. Nothing was owed. He could have hung up and kept everything I'd told him.
Then I stopped the foreclosure. One piece of paper. The sale date came off the calendar.
That bought the only thing that matters in this business: time. And in this business, time is money — literally, in dollars, as you're about to see.
Then, instead of one investor with one take-it-or-leave-it number, I put Jack's house in front of several cash buyers who had to compete for it.
Winning offer: $396,250. Cash. No repairs, no showings, no strangers walking his kitchen.
He paid no commission and no closing costs, because the buyer covered both. So the check was the whole number: $192,000.
His kids finished the semester at the same school.
The same house, three ways.
Same address. Same debt. Same week. Here's the arithmetic.
Two columns in that table do all the work.
The middle one is the offer sitting in your kitchen right now. Roughly 60% of what your house is worth — and that's not an accusation, that's just the business. Most investors buying foreclosures work off about that number, because that's what makes the deal profitable for them. Nothing illegal. Nothing even hidden. It's printed right on the paper, along with no commission, no fees, we pay all closing costs.
All of that is true. And it still costs you $147,250.
The right-hand one isn't magic. It's arithmetic. One buyer names a number that's good for him. Several buyers bidding against each other name a number that's good for you. I don't set that price. I can't. The competition sets it, and my only job is to make sure the room is full.
About these numbers, because I'd rather over-explain than round: the $192,000 net and the 41 days are from a real closing. The purchase price, payoff, and closing costs shown above are a representative case built to match that outcome — your house, your loan, and your county will produce different figures. Bring me yours and I'll run this exact table on your actual numbers, free.
Before you believe a word of that — go check me.
I'm asking you to trust me with the biggest financial decision of your life. So years ago I put something in the public record on purpose, so you'd never have to take my word for anything.
In 2014, a bank forgave an entire mortgage I owed on a rental property. One hundred percent. Free and clear. That's a different event from losing my family's home — that happened years earlier, and I've never pretended otherwise.
Eight minutes on a government website confirms every word of that.
Everybody in this business says trust me. I'm the only one handing you the file number.
It all starts with one honest conversation.
Fifteen minutes. I look at what you owe, what the house is worth, and how many days you actually have left. You ask me anything, including how I get paid. Nothing is signed. Nothing is owed.
Stop My Foreclosure — Get An Honest Cash OfferIs this even for you?
I don't want to waste your time, and you don't have any to waste.
This is for you if —
This is not for you if —
Every day costs you money. Here's the exchange rate.
This isn't a motivational line. It's arithmetic, and it runs in one direction.
The foreclosure notice is filed with your county. The clock starts whether you look at it or not.
Federal law only forces your servicer to stop and review if the paperwork is in at least 37 days before the sale. Miss it by one day and it's gone.
Whatever your county has on the calendar. After this, nobody can help you.
Time is what a competition needs. With weeks, I can put several buyers in a room and let them push your number up. With days, I can't — and the only offer still standing is the lowball, which is exactly what it was built for.
The postcards aren't waiting for you to say yes. They're waiting for you to run out of time.
Bob had time. He had more time than he thought. What he didn't have was fifteen minutes for a phone call.
Look up your own filing on your county's website. Count the days yourself. I'll wait.
